Work Text:
After weeks at home, Maya was surprised to find herself wishing she could leave the station.
As she lay in her bunk, staring up at the ceiling, all she could think about was the end of shift. It had been a very long time since she’d felt that way. Months. Because for months she’d dreaded the end of shift, the idea of going home, of facing her increasingly unstable marriage and her increasingly angry wife.
That was before the fall. Before the hospital. Before Diane had shown her the way through, the way forward beyond pain and suffering.
Without its burden, without its weight, all that was left was an endless longing for Carina. Longing and determination. They were married. Carina was her wife. And Maya was going to do everything in her power to keep it that way.
Which is why she wanted her shift to be over.
But it was only 7PM and she had another twelve hours to go. She tried to refocus, tried to concentrate on the positives instead.
It felt good to be back at work, or it had felt good until the crew returned with grim faces and even grimmer news. She’d expected cold shoulders or pitying eyes. What she’d received instead was cake. A few pats on the back. For once, Jack didn’t make things weird, if anything, he made things feel like life was once more recognizable, like she was no longer seeing the world through smoke.
And she appreciated how normal it all seemed. Because life had been so far from normal for so long.
Normal
Her bed at home was cold and empty. At least the bunk was only big enough for one person, at least it didn’t have a reminder that someone was missing, that someone should have been beside her. There was no space for absence here. No impression of a body fading with each day.
Maya watched her phone and bit her lip, finding it difficult not to stand up and pace.
“Come on, come on, come on,” she whispered beneath her breath, studying the black screen as if she could summon a text message. A call. As if she could summon Carina.
She knew she had to wait. Carina told her that she would call, and Maya had to respect that. She had to respect Carina’s wishes and her decisions. She didn’t tell Maya to call her, she said she would do the calling. And Maya had to trust that. She had to.
It didn’t stop her from feeling an overwhelming desperation to send a quick text. To walk out of the station and into the car and drive towards Carina’s hotel. To leave shift for the third time in under twenty-four hours.
Because what if Carina was really sick?
What if she’d fallen and hit her head?
What if she was bleeding out on the floor and no one knew?
What if she’d developed a hernia from excessive vomiting?
What if her gallbladder inexplicably burst…
Maya frowned at the last one. She knew she was being ridiculous. But she could still feel the warmth of Carina’s body against her. The smell of her hair. How somehow, despite how sick she was, she still looked beautiful. She would always look beautiful in Maya’s eyes.
It had taken every ounce of Maya’s strength to leave her wife behind. She’d held on long after Carina told her to go, long after Jack sent a second text. She’d clung to Carina, terrified to move because the curve of Carina’s spine against her chest was everything. It was everything.
Maya breathed in through her nose. She counted to ten. She exhaled. Then she did it again. She continued until her phone vibrated, startling her in the middle of the exercise.
Carina: I am feeling a bit better. Going to try to sleep now. Thank you for coming today.
Maya’s thumbs hovered over the screen. She read Carina’s message twice, analyzing each word. Trying to decide what to do next.
Carina was feeling better, which was good.
She was going to go to bed, which was also good.
And the last part. The thank you…
Maya blinked, unsure how to respond. She felt panic rise again, she felt the pressure to get this right. But she also heard Diane’s voice in her head telling her that while she couldn’t force Carina to feel a certain way, she could gently assert herself. She also heard her explain that she would need to show Carina that she was her priority, that she was committed. That she couldn’t just tell her. And showing her meant showing up.
Maya: Glad to hear it.
Maya: It was really nice seeing you today.
Maya: I love you so much can we have six babies and move to Vermont?
Maya: <3
She hit send. She watched as the notification turned to read. And then she set the phone down knowing she wouldn’t get a response.
Breathe in.
Count to ten.
Breathe out.
~*~
In the seconds before waking, Carina felt Maya beside her. She sighed, her forehead pressed into a familiar collarbone, and then she woke up. Alone. In her hotel room.
She blinked heavily, wincing when she felt her stomach churn. Not enough to make her sick, but enough to remind her that Maya had poisoned her with lasagna. Which felt like an unfortunate metaphor for their relationship.
Something so good turning into something toxic.
That’s not fair…
That’s not true..
Carina curled into herself, pulling the sheets closer to her body. Her wife was proving to be something of a mystery. Carina couldn’t quite make sense of the small glimpses, which was partially her own fault. She’d kept her distance for weeks. It was safer that way.
Get too close and…get food poisoning, apparently.
Her thoughts drifted to the day before. To Maya walking into her office, rolling in like sunlight. Seeing her was painful. Because she looked like her. She looked like Maya. Beautiful and strong and so damn stubborn that Carina wanted to scream.
It would have been easy to cross the small distance and grab hold of her. To let Maya back in.
But maybe that wasn’t really Maya? Maybe that person with the deadly lasagna was a chameleon. Maybe she’d move back home and the not-Maya would return and Carina wouldn’t be able to recover. She wouldn’t be able to pick herself up this time. She wouldn’t survive another blow.
Carina squeezed her eyes shut, her stomach clenching, though the feeling quickly passed. She exhaled, trying to relax her muscles, trying to decide if she was well enough to eat something.
When her phone pinged, she expected it to be Bailey checking in.
It wasn’t Bailey.
Bambina: Just finished my shift. Do you need anything?
Usually, Maya went for a run after shift. Or she stayed at the station to pick up another shift, sometimes she didn’t come home at all.
But it was 7AM sharp. And Maya’s first thought was…
It was all so confusing. Carina didn’t trust herself. She didn’t trust Maya. She didn’t trust herself with Maya.
Except Carina felt miserable. She felt dizzy. She hated feeling sick and she so hated being alone.
And Maya’s arms had felt so good. Nothing had felt good in months. Nothing.
Carina: Could you bring me some Pedialyte? The cherry flavour?
Bambina: Of course. Anything else?
You. The real you. You with your perfect eyes and your big heart. Your hands and your arms and the low rasp of your voice. I just want you.
Carina: No. I’ll leave a key for you at the front desk.
Bambina: <3
Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe she was a fool, but as Carina made a quick call down to the lobby, she felt relief mix in with the doubt.
~*~
“Carina?”
Maya stood at the foot of the bed, her eyes wide with concern. But it was what she held in her arms that made Carina push herself up on one elbow and stare back in shock.
Somehow, Maya had carried Carina’s pillow, a large shopping bag, and their duvet into the room. She carefully placed it down, huffing a little as she did, and Carina was unsure whether to laugh or cry.
“What did you do?” She asked, unable to keep the smile from her face.
Maya circled the bed, her movements hesitant until Carina gave her a slight nod.
“It’s just…you’re sick and you should have your own bed,” Maya said, bashful, carefully taking the pillow under Carina’s head and replacing it with her own.
Carina sunk down into the familiar softness, inhaling. It smelled like home. It smelled like Maya. She said nothing as Maya stripped back the hotel’s blanket and draped their duvet over Carina’s body. Carina practically wiggled, her anxiety temporarily shelved as she gave into how much she had missed the familiarity of her pillow and her blanket and the smell of them.
“I picked up the Pedialyte,” Maya explained, digging into the bag, “but I brought an extra toothbrush…mouth wash, the blue kind, I know you hate the green one…and some magazines…they had the new Vogue, I don’t know if you’ve read it yet, maybe you have, but I can go get…”
“Grazie, Bambina,” Carina whispered.
Maya stood awkwardly next to the bed, playing with her hands. She was wearing jeans and her white sneakers. A blue shirt with red sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Everything about her was so frustratingly cute. From her nervousness to the way a few whisps of hair had come loose from her ponytail, she just looked so much like…Maya.
“You can sit down,” Carina slid her hand out from under the duvet and lay it on the empty side of the bed.
Maya nodded, circling the bed again. She kicked off her shoes and then sat, her body rigid and tense. Carina could almost see her thinking, trying to find words.
“I’m sorry I almost killed you with lasagna,” she finally said, biting her lip, clearly trying not to smile.
Carina rolled her eyes. “Lasagna cannot kill me. I’m Italian.”
“They’re never going to let me into Italy now, right?”
“Probably not.”
Before everything shattered, before they were this version of them, Maya would have winked at Carina and Carina would have pointed with her finger and they would have fallen together, laughing, smiles so wide that they could barely kiss, though they tried.
In the now, in this version of them, the watched each other with caution, the ghosts of their former selves flickering in memory, reflected in each other’s eyes.
“You can lie down,” Carina said, not missing the flutter of Maya’s jaw muscle. The return of her anxiety.
She didn’t say anything as she stretched out next to Carina on top of the blanket.
Her eyes were clear, the shadows gone. And her hair…Carina’s fingers twitched. Her hair looked healthy, clean. In the days leading up to Maya’s hospitalization, she’d coming home smelling like smoke and sweat. Her hair limp and greasy.
Carina wanted to reach out and touch it now, to make sure it was real, but she didn’t.
Too much. Too soon.
She could still feel the comfort of Maya’s shoulder behind her head, Maya’s arms around her. She longed for it, but she feared it as much as she needed it. She feared how quickly her thoughts drifted to fantasy: is this what she’ll be like when I’m pregnant? Holding me? Rubbing my back? Ignoring the sick and the smell and just loving me?
Loving me…
She loves me…
“Did your first shift back go okay?” Carina asked, hoping Maya didn’t notice the slight tremor in her words.
If she couldn’t touch Maya, she could listen to her voice.
Maya brushed her cheek against the pillow and set her hand between them on the bed, keeping a respectful distance.
“I did,” she said, “at least, at first I did.”
Her frown was concerning. Carina braced herself for anger, for ranting, seething, for sentences filled with “If…” and “I could have…” and “I didn’t…”
And then silence. So much silence.
Instead, Maya sighed and kept talking.
“The team was out doing the annual skills competition. I didn’t get the whole story, but apparently the lieutenant from 88 died. Vic said there was an unexpected explosion…something to do with Beckett,” Maya said, worry clear on her face. She loved her team. Even when they didn’t always love her back.
“Did you know him?” Carina asked, a familiar fear gathering in her stomach, her stomach that was already churning.
Maya shook her head. “No, but apparently he has a long-time girlfriend…and a little girl. To go out like that? In an accident? It’s just not right. It’s never right, but…I guess if it happens, it should mean something…”
Without giving it much thought, Carina lay her hand on top of Maya’s, needing to feel her. She knew that Maya had been far from danger, but Carina was the wife of a firefighter. She understood the risk. She thought about a nameless, faceless woman somewhere in Seattle, lying on a bed, staring at the empty space next to her. At the cold, untouched sheets. Alone.
Carina rubbed her thumb across Maya’s knuckles.
“I think Andy is going to do something about Beckett,” Maya continued, serious and calm, “but Jack and I were pretty much on desk duty the whole time, so we’re out of the loop.”
There was no annoyance. No envy. Carina wasn’t sure what to make of it. She wasn’t sure how to reconcile this Maya with the Maya who’d spent most of their relationship fighting tooth and nail to climb higher, to be better. To be the best.
“How’s Jack?” Carina asked instead, even though she knew he was fine. She’d seen him the week before at the clinic.
Maya smiled. “Dealing with his sister.”
“Oh?”
“She showed up today with her friend. They’d crashed their motorcycle.”
“Dio mio, Andrea had one, it always made me so nervous,” Carina said, shaking her head.
“Well, I’m guessing Andrew never drove high, right?”
Carina frowned. “They were high?”
“Edibles. Have you ever had one?”
“Once or twice,” Carina shrugged, “Gabriella said I spent six hours watching a pigeon fly from one tree to another and I did not move the entire time.”
Maya snorted. “Seriously?”
“Medical school was very stressful.”
Something flashed in Maya’s eyes, open affection, love. Carina could see it. Clear as day.
“Anyways,” Maya said, her lips upturned, “Jack tried to pull the whole big-brother routine and then I had to pull rank on her friend. It was all very exciting.”
“Sounds like it.”
Carina dragged her fingertips over the back of Maya’s hand, tracing the prominent veins. When Maya turned her wrist palm up, offering her arm to Carina, Carina bit back a smile. It was such a practiced move, one of the hundreds of subconscious ways they reached for each other.
“That’s about it. Jack drama. Beckett drama,” Maya listed, “then I almost poisoned the love of my life, all in a day’s work, I guess.”
Warmth spread through Carina’s chest, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she continued her exploration, from Maya’s wrist to her elbow, and watched her.
The look in Maya’s eyes remained. That focused, open, affectionate look, and once more Carina felt like she was gathering clues.
Maya was so present. She was calm and kind. She was funny and sweet. She’d apparently left her shift twice the day before, she’d apparently chosen to prioritize Carina even though it was her first day back at work.
Carina didn’t know what to do with the information. She didn’t want to believe what she was seeing. It didn’t correspond with what she knew. About Maya’s checklist. About her dedication to the job. About where their marriage ranked. Where she ranked.
As if sensing her inner turmoil, Maya caught Carina’s hand and held on.
“I have so many things I want to say to you,” she whispered in that little vulnerable voice that always melted Carina’s heart, “and I know you’re not ready to hear them. That’s okay. But I just want you to know that when you’re ready, I’m going to be here. No matter how long it takes. Because I love you, Carina. And until you tell me to go, until you tell me we’re done, I’m going to be here.”
Carina felt her eyes well. She felt her mind and her heart at war.
“You said we were done,” Carina confessed, watching Maya through tears.
Maya frowned and squeezed Carina’s hand. “We aren’t done.”
“I’m terrified, Maya. I’m so tired and I’m still so mad…” Carina closed her eyes, struggling to find the words. She pulled Maya’s hand to her lips and kissed her knuckles. “I’m scared you are going to disappear again. I’m scared this isn’t real.”
“Is that why you can’t come home yet?”
Carina blinked, astounded to see Maya so serene. There was no accusation, no cutting remark. Maya was giving her room to speak, to not speak. She was granting her quiet. She was granting her the space she’d asked for. But she was fighting too. Carina could see it. Maya was fighting for her.
“I don’t think I’m ready,” Carina said, sniffling. For a second, she could see how hurt Maya was by her words, but she could also see Maya accepting them too.
She nodded against the pillow, her eyes never leaving Carina’s face.
Carina didn’t think before leaning over and tucking herself below Maya’s chin. She lay her cheek against Maya’s chest, stifling a moan because it felt so good. So right. Carina dragged her nose across Maya’s sternum, sinking further into her as Maya’s arms held her close.
“I miss you,” Maya whispered against the top of Carina’s head, “and I love you and I will fight for you every single day, Carina. For us and our family.”
Family
Carina tensed, the implication of the word bringing with it both heaviness and light. Did Maya still want that? Carina didn’t have the strength to ask. Not yet.
Instead, she let Maya rub her back, she let Maya breathe her in and kiss the top of her head, she allowed herself to feel loved. Cherished. And for the first time since walking away from Maya’s hospital room, Carina didn’t question Maya’s intentions or her words. Because Maya’s fingers were in her hair and Maya’s palm lay protectively between her shoulder blades and Maya’s heart beat so steadily beneath her cheek.
Carina was nearly asleep when Maya’s phone alarm sounded, startling them both.
“Work?” Carina asked, knowing that even though Maya had the day off, she’d likely end up back at 19. Like she usually did.
Maya shifted and when Carina looked up, she found her wife blushing.
“I have an appointment with Diane,” she said, her lips lifting in the corners.
Carina found herself smiling back. “That’s good, Maya. Really good.”
“I think so too.”
Maya was hesitant to move, Carina could tell by the way her arms seemed to tighten their hold. By the slight sheen of tears in her eyes. And somehow Maya’s fear made Carina love her even more. Maya had a way of making her feel loved that Carina had never experienced before. It had been missing for so long. By the end, she wasn’t even sure if Maya liked her.
But there was no mistaking Maya’s feelings now. Maya loved her. And she was terrified to let her go.
Maybe there is no checklist?
Maybe this is real?
“I will Facetime you tonight, before I go to bed,” Carina promised, pleased to see Maya’s sadness transform into hope.
Maya looked around the room, taking in the open suitcase and the discarded room-service dishes, before finding Carina’s gaze again.
“I know you’re not ready,” she said, “but I could stay in a hotel if you wanted to…I mean, it’s your home too, and you shouldn’t have to live here… I could…or…
Carina raised her hand to Maya’s lips, lightly silencing her.
“I need to be here,” she explained, “and you need to be home. And soon, I will need to be home too.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes,” Carina said, surprised by her own conviction.
Their goodbye was filled with reluctance and longing. Maya lingered in the doorway, she fussed with Carina’s sheets, she folded a shirt left on a nearby chair, and it wasn’t until her phone pinged again that she finally left, though Carina could so clearly see her wish to stay.
To stay with me…
Carina closed her eyes, sinking into her pillow, relieved that her nausea had finally passed.
She didn’t hear the door open again. She didn’t feel Maya in the room.
But when she woke up later, she found two bottles of Pedialyte on her bedside table, and a hastily scrawled note that read drink this beside it. When she stood up and walked into the bathroom, she found a new toothbrush. And toothpaste. And mouthwash. There was a bottle of her favourite body wash and a scented vanilla candle and a small stack of magazines.
Every single object was full of purpose. Every single object told a story.
That Maya loved her. That Maya thought about her and cared about her and worried about her.
That Maya chose her.
And while Carina was nowhere near ready to fully forgive, she could sense a shift inside. A thaw. She stood in the middle of her hotel room, looking at the bed, at her pillow and her duvet, and thought about what she’d told Maya.
“Soon,” she said out loud, fear and hope and love swirling around her like dust in the air.
Soon