The Song Remains the Same

Chapter 30

Waiting was agony, made no less painful by the fact that Nick wasn't Owen. A good man was dying in a bed while Callie could do nothing. Arizona had been her rock then, taking care of the kids and her without faltering. It took everything Callie had to do that for her – juggling work, the kids, and her girlfriend's family. She did it, though. Because Arizona Robbins was irrevocably tied to her own life, her family, her happiness, her heart.

Nick's hand was clammy but she didn't let go, holding his hand while she scanned charts on her tablet, her feet propped up on the room's spare chair. Callie looked up over the edges of her glasses when her patient's door opened, pleased by her partner's entrance.

Arizona didn't look as happy to see her, her expression dropping into a worried frown. “Shit. Was I supposed to get the kids? Because I was sure they were with you -”

Callie put her feet down and leaned forward to drop her computer and glasses on the edge of Nick's bed. He'd been sleeping since she'd arrived, had remained unconscious for longer and longer stretches. He wasn't going to hold out much longer and Arizona had gotten more and more regimented as the second week of waiting had worn on. “You didn't lose the kids,” Callie assured her, standing up in her socks. “Ellen has them today. It's Sunday,” she reminded her partner slowly when Arizona still looked confused.

“Wha-?”

“Come sit down,” Callie directed, reaching for her arm even as she rounded the end of Nick's bed.

“How's he doing? When did you get here?” asked Arizona while she sank into Callie's chair.

Callie sighed, rubbing tired eyes as she took the other chair. “I came down after my surgery.” She had Cristina Yang watching the UNOS list like a hawk, with the promise of running the recovery team as incentive. “How's your kid with the sarcoma?”

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Arizona sighed. “Ortho is consulting later but they think they can save the leg.”

The silence that fell was almost uneasy, something that didn't happen between them normally. Even in the beginning, when they'd been getting to know each other the quiet had been easy, simple, and relaxed. It was hard to talk openly with Nick withering in the bed beside them.

It couldn't keep Callie from fidgeting restlessly where she'd been relaxed before. There was a time and a place for what she wanted to say to Arizona and this was decidedly not it, but she just couldn't help herself. Leaping without looking was just part of who she was.

Right now though, Arizona needed the quiet stillness of her dying friend's bedside and Callie sat across from her in their vigil.

“Do you come in here a lot?” Arizona asked softly. She knew how often she was here, and her parents, but she'd been unaware that Callie spent much, if any, of her free time in Nick's room.

Callie watched him sleeping and didn't speak for a moment. Arizona was holding his hand now. “I know we're not close, me and him, but I didn't want him to be alone.” Owen hadn't died alone, she'd been beside him, and Teddy. But he'd been unreachable, like Nick was becoming as the days dragged on without a new heart.

“Thank you,” Arizona whispered, blinking across the space between them and letting the quiet fall again. It was less strained now, more of a peaceful silence.

Callie's phone ringing loudly, pager chiming from her discarded lab coat's pocket on the chair behind Arizona, startled them both. It made Nick jump but he didn't stir more than to mumble, his eyes moving slowly behind their lids. “This is Dr. Torres.”

Arizona was back on her feet and reaching for confirmation on Callie's pager before Callie could cover the speaker and tell her. The look on her face was enough. They had a heart.