Work Text:
The preparations have been slow.
Carina is exactly thirty-two weeks pregnant, meaning she’s well within the third semester and only a few weeks away from the due date. They’ve picked a name (though it was a no-brainer, really. Andrea has always been the choice, even before actually sitting down and discussing), have gotten most of the furniture for the nursery and Maya has read all kind of books.
But the preparations have been slow. To be more specific, they’ve been slow for Maya. She’d already made a mental checklist the moment they’d gotten home the day Carina had told her she was pregnant, the day of the wildfire. Maya had enjoyed the magic of the perfect moment for much longer than she’d thought herself capable of, and as soon as they’d picked Liam up and gotten home, her mind had already gone on seventeen different journeys trying to get ahead of everything.
So, in Maya’s taste, preparations have been slow. Too slow. They haven’t yet decided on whether the baby is going to sleep in the nursery, or if they’re going to let them stay in their bedroom for the first month or so, considering Liam’s still not entirely fixed sleep schedule. They haven’t decided who is going to be their godparents, not to mention the fact they have absolutely no idea what their job prospects are as of now.
Maya has been considering taking some well earned time off for the baby’s first few months; after all, she has a lot of days saved up. Carina has finally gotten through some people in order to move up and take on a more important role at the Elena Bailey’s clinic (with Miranda Bailey’s blessing, of course), so that she can slowly work her way up to opening her own practice. Maya is truly so very proud of her wife.
However.
She would also be so very grateful if her wife could just sit down.
Really, at this point Maya thinks she will need time off work because of the stress of having Carina run back and forth between the hospital and the house, rather than the actual baby. It seems, to absolutely everyone’s delight but hers, Maya has turned into the hovering, stressed out, helicopter spouse, soon to be hovering, stressed out, helicopter parent.
They all find it hilarious. Maya is only mildly offended.
She technically already is that kind of parent, with the difference Liam was born in a crumbling building with the help of a kitchen knife and some wipes, so it’s almost like all that worry she couldn’t completely feel at the time, has been belatedly making its way through with Carina’s pregnancy. Liam was unexpected. They had no idea they were delivering their son, so they had absolutely no time to prepare, and everything they did after, when Liam was already in their arms, had to be quick, they didn’t have time to think too much, to consider their options.
‘Should we get the wooden bassinet?’
‘Should we repaint the nursery?’
‘Maybe we could get a Montessori bed’
Everything has been thought over at least a dozen time. With Liam, they had to be fast. Maya had done her research even then, but not the way she’d have liked to.
(See: go through two dozen websites and forums to make sure the crib they’re buying is the correct one.)
(She could only go through a few condensed forum discussions.)
With Andrea, though, they’ve had nothing but time. Maya is a patient person. She can wait. She’d thought she could.
For almost nine months, Maya has been going… well, crazy, for lack of a better word. Especially since Carina’s entered the last semester. Every time her wife wakes up in the middle of the night, Maya jumps up and asks what is it while her eyes are still closed and her brain is still half shut, but each time the answer comes quickly (‘I have to pee’). She watches Carina.
Not in a creepy way. She’s always liked looking at her, even before she was pregnant, long before they even got married, because Carina is simply breathtaking and Maya knows she’s the luckiest person in the world, but that’s not the point. While Carina does look beautiful while carrying their baby (and yes, all those things people say about pregnancy making people glow are absolutely true), she is in fact carrying their baby and that fact alone terrifies Maya to no end.
So she watches her. Just to make sure she’s alright. She immediately notices every time she’s in some sort of pain, and she now knows the exact way her frown deepens when that pain is baby related. She doesn’t go too far, so she can catch her, if she were to need help.
Maya is exhausted.
And the preparations have been too slow.
Carina has in turn been the epitome of relaxation, somehow. She’s serene, calm. It’s almost eerie. It seems the main emotion throughout the pregnancy has been content. Not to fear, Carina is still her Carina, so Maya has been on the receiving end of quite a few angry rants. In multiple languages.
On a positive note, Maya has now learned how to form simple sentences in Italian. And lots of curse words.
If Maya had to describe her and Carina, she would say their contrasting emotions and approaches compliment each other so well. They simply work. Beautifully so. This has always been true, but never like the last year and a half. This pregnancy really is the perfect example.
Carina’s calm demeanor is a balm for Maya’s generally anxious outlook.
They have, throughout the years, learned to understand each other with just a look. Maya knows what Carina is going to say by the way her left eyebrow twitches, and Carina knows what to say just by the way Maya’s breath loses its rhythmic momentum.
It’s why Maya watches her. Because she understands Carina’s body, she can read it as well as she can understand a fire, which sounds slightly ridiculous, but to Maya it makes all the sense.
She’d once stated this on one of their get-to-know-each-other-again dates. Carina had predicted the stupid joke Maya had come up with before she could even open her mouth (‘you’re both hot’), and had rolled her eyes so far back Maya almost thought they’d get stuck; but she’d also gifted her that smile Maya knows is just for her, the one that has her squinting a little while her nose crinkles.
Even then, Carina had understood. She’d never really had to explain herself to her. So, explaining to her what I know where the fire is by how the smoke moves meant had been completely useless, because Carina already knew it meant I know where you mind is by how your face changes.
Maya knows her wife like she’s her favorite song and she’s learned all the lyrics, and yet she’d listen forever. She’d trace the words onto her skin, burn the notes onto her fingernails so that everything she touches can’t help but touch her, too.
Maya knows Carina.
That’s why when she walks into their living room to find her standing in the middle of it, back towards her, her shoulders slouched and her entire body rigid, Maya instantly knows something isn’t right.
“Carina?”
She tries to keep her voice down, her tone hopefully hiding the sudden fear that has encapsulated her. If something is truly wrong, Carina will tell her. There is no reason to panic. If she panics, Carina will worry, and Maya is not about to make her very pregnant wife worry for potentially no reason.
Still, Carina doesn’t answer. She doesn’t even acknowledge her presence. Her head is turned down, but Maya can’t really see what she’s looking at. Her arms are bent at the elbow, hands most likely on or near her belly.
Once again, Maya has to bite back her concern, trying to sound as steady as she can. “Babe?”
This time Carina seems to hear her. She jumps slightly, as if she’s only just realized Maya is in the room with her. She turns her head just enough for Maya to see her wide eyes and trembling hands.
Holding a phone. Carina’s shaky hands are holding her phone, which Maya only now hears ringing.
As soon as she hears it and Maya takes in her wife’s frantic expression, the phone goes silent. It takes her exactly one second to get across the room towards Carina’s trembling form.
“Babe, what –” before she can finish her sentence, Carina holds up the phone so she can see it.
One missed call from Papà.
Shit.
When she looks up, Maya notices the way her eyes are moving everywhere and nowhere, not really stopping on anything for more than one second.
She’s spiraling.
“Hey, hey,” Maya starts, her hands cupping Carina’s cheeks as to make sure she’s directly facing her, “Look at me. Eyes only on me, remember?”
That seems to shake her out of her stupor for a moment. Carina’s eyes finally meet Maya’s as her bottom lip starts trembling once more.
Carina finally speaks, her voice almost a whisper. It’s clear she’s panicking. “What if he’s – He could be – Ah –”
Maya sees her wife’s eyes going back down to look at her phone. The screen is now black. No new notifications. No texts or voicemails.
He just called without warning. Who does he thinks he is? What exactly does he think he’s doing? Just dropping out of Carina’s life like she’s nothing, and then suddenly reappearing like he has any right to just –
“It could be another episode or – or something happened and – Ah, I don’t – What if he’s hurt?”
Maya’s heart breaks seeing her wife like this. She’s seen it before, this specific kind of desperate panic that only hits her when it comes to her family. Specifically, Maya remembers Carina’s sheer anxiety and terror as she’d called her dad to tell him about her brother.
She also remembers the blank, almost catatonic state she’d gotten into for the next few hours after the call, after Vincenzo DeLuca had hurriedly told her he already knew. The implications of him knowing and not speaking to her not lost on either of them.
Maya isn’t quick to hate. Disdain, disgust, annoyance. Yes to all of them. Rarely hate.
She hates him.
He seems to only be able to hurt Carina, even when he hasn’t even spoken to her. One missed phone call, his name on her phone screen, and her wife is back to being a scared little girl, trying her hardest to keep everyone in her family in one piece.
Holding everyone together, as she slowly falls apart. Intelligent, beautiful, mesmerizing Carina, who’s spent most of her life caring for people who couldn’t care for themselves, at the cost of hurting herself in the process.
This wonderful creature, Maya’s everything, reduced to a stuttering sobbing mess because of one man who holds too much power.
So yes, Maya hates him.
Maya’s hands fall to the sides of Carina’s neck. She instinctively feels her pulse. Quick. Erratic, even. She lowers her head a bit to chase Carina’s unsteady gaze. As soon as she catches it, she’s already lost it.
“Hey, okay. If he’s hurt, someone else will take care of him. Someone who is close to him. Someone who isn’t in another continent and very pregnant.”
Carina’s eyes finally meet her own for more than a second. She looks at her as if she’s truly just realized she’s in front of her. She opens her mouth to speak once, twice, but nothing comes out.
“I… I think I should’ve answered,” her wife says quietly, eyes once again unfocused.
Her words make her realize Carina had probably stared at her phone as it rang, unable to do anything. Paralyzed.
Maya hates him.
“No, there’s no ‘should’. You shouldn’t do anything you don’t want to,” Maya tries to keep her voice firm, calm. She wants to be able to support her wife right now, so she has to keep this growing rage inside of her. Carina needs her right now. Not her rage, not her concern. She just needs her.
“But he –”
Carina interrupts herself when a sob breaks through and shakes her whole body. Maya lowers her hands to her arms, keeping her touch consistent, but not insistent. I’m here and One word, and I’ll be gone. Maya wouldn’t leave. Not really. But she knows Carina’s needs, her particularities. She knows what too soft is, and she doesn’t want to spook her.
She gives her a moment to collect her thoughts, but Carina doesn’t speak again, so Maya decides to step in. “But he is a grown man. A grown man on the other side of the world. If he’s in trouble, clearly he has enough faculty to reach out, which means he’s okay right now.”
When Carina holds her head up, her lips pursed tightly, Maya knows that’s her tell for almost too soft. Not yet. Carina doesn’t move away, so Maya doesn’t move at all.
“Do you want to call him back?” Maya asks, her voice imperceptibly louder than usual.
Maya wants her wife to say no. No, I don’t want to call him back. No, I never want to hear from him again. No, he can fend for himself.
But Maya knows her wife. She knows her like she knows fire. She sees the way her dark eyes get a little steadier, the way her hands stop shaking, how she anxiously starts biting her lip. She’s thinking about it. Maya knows what her answer is going to be before Carina.
“I think I should…”
Maya sighs, shaking her head. “No, you shouldn’t. Do you want to?”
Carina looks up at her, her eyes holding Maya’s with a newfound tentative confidence. “I think I do,” she says a little louder, nodding slightly.
Maya feels another wave of anger wash over her. Not directed at her wife. Never. It’s directed at Vincenzo DeLuca and his frustrating debilitating existence. At the fact that he’s managed to ruin a perfectly fine day, to hurt her wife so much already in such a short time.
But Maya can’t help but also feel pride. She’s proud of her wife, of the person she is. Because she’s kind. And just. And Maya is so in love with her it hurts.
Not because she loves her. The hurt isn’t because of her love, the hurt isn’t even coming from her. It’s slithering its way across Carina’s chest, in between her eyes, deep in her stomach. Maya feels it like it’s hers.
It is hers. In sickness and in health. Carina’s sickness, and her health, they are Maya’s as well.
“Okay,” Maya says, “I’ll be here. If you’ll let me.”
Carina only nods, looking down on the phone in her hands. The screen is still black. She taps the screen to make it light up and goes to use the thumbprint lock, but it doesn’t work and her hands are shaking when she attempts to type in her password, so Maya has to step in and gently take her phone away to unlock it herself. Carina lets her and wordlessly takes it back when Maya unlocks it.
Maya sees her take a deep breath while her finger hovers the call button. When she finally taps it, Carina lets out the air she was holding and steps away from her to slowly pace around the room.
Maya lets her, aware all that energy has to go somewhere. All she wants to do is hold Carina. Keep her away from her father, and from every single thing that could harm her. Her and their babies.
Maya wishes she could hold them all close to her, all day long, every day.
Instead, Carina paces.
(It’s actually more a waddle, and sort of adorable, but Maya won’t tell her that.)
After a few long moments, when Carina is about to hang up, defeated, her eyes widen as the line finally connects.
Maya holds her breath.
“Pronto?”
Her wife has stopped walking. Her eyes are fixed on a random point on the wall, her free hand immobile on her belly. Almost like she’s making sure everything is where it’s supposed to be.
Carina frowns. She looks confused. She meets Maya’s eyes for a moment, like she’d be able to provide her with the answers she needs.
She shakes her head and puts her phone on speaker. “Papà?”
Nothing. There is no answer, not even breathing. For a moment, Maya is scared something might have actually happened to her father in law. She’s not worried about him, but if anything were to happen… it would break Carina.
They both hold their breath when they hear an unidentifiable noise.
Finally Vincenzo DeLuca’s grave voice breaks through the silence.
“Sono in autostrada,” is all he says.
Maya understands the words individually, so she assumes he’s just said I’m on the highway.
Okay?
“Okay? Papà, ma tu stai bene?”
Are you okay, Maya’s brain translates.
“Io? Adesso t’importa?”
Carina’s sharp intake of air is all she needs to see to confirm her translation is accurate. Now you care?
Before Carina can say anything, the staticky voice through the phone keeps talking, now a lot louder than before.
“Ti sembra normale che l’ho dovuto sapere così? Pensavi di dirmelo prima o poi?”
Vincenzo talks very quickly, which makes her already weak grasp of Italian a lot harder. Something about finding out.
If he’s said what Maya thinks he’s said, then he must be talking about Liam and the baby. What else could he be referring to? If that’s what’s happening right now… Maya isn’t sure she’ll be able to keep her cool.
Carina freezes for a second. “What?”
She hears Vincenzo’s loud ah!
“English, yes? Are you with your family?”
Maya does not like the way he says ‘family’. Like it’s dirty, like it’s a joke. Like it isn’t real.
“Sì,” Carina simply says.
This one word answer holds so much more weight than either of them can understand right now. Yes, I am with my family. My family does not include you.
Vincenzo doesn’t seem too frazzled by Carina’s tone. But then again, he’s never taken his daughter’s feelings and opinions into consideration.
Maya hates him.
Has she already said that? She really hates him.
“I had to find out through your uncle. He can’t keep a secret to save his life. Stupid bastard. Di quanti mesi sei?”
She sees Carina’s face turn angry so quickly it almost gives her whiplash. “It wasn’t a secret. If you wanted to know things about me, you could have called me earlier.”
“Ah! Sentila! What is the English idiom? The cup? The pot calling the iron –” he stops, muttering something, seemingly trying to remember the idiom, “Il bue che dà del cornuto all’asino.”
“E chi è il cornuto?”
Maya isn’t too sure what Carina’s just said, but it must have been pretty good, because she hears Vincenzo’s offended gasp followed by come ti permetti which Maya knows means how dare you.
Maya feels so much pride.
Cornuto. Maya’s gonna ask about this one later.
“No, tu come ti permetti? Mi chiami, mi insulti, e poi vuoi che ti rispetti? You have lost all of my respect. It’s not owed, it’s earned. Io ti rispetto, se tu mi rispetti.”
Clearly something about respect. Maya is pretty sure she understood most of this. You call me, you insult me, and you want me to respect you? I respect you, if you respect me.
Maya imagines a metaphorical mic drop.
Carina’s cheeks have turned red, and she’s started pacing (waddling) around the room, her free hand moving around wildly.
Oh, now he’s done it.
“You have not called me for years. I had to bury –” she interrupts herself, swallowing back the tears that are fighting to be let out. “I had to bury him alone. You didn’t call, you didn’t text. You could’ve been dead; I could’ve buried you too and I had no idea!”
Maya can’t stop this. She watches helplessly as her wife’s emotions get to her, as the tears finally make their way down her face, as the sobs make her stutter. Maya can’t do anything but feel it, too.
“I had to bury my brother! He is dead! And you were gone. And then I was – Do you even care? Do you hear me? You son is dead!”
Carina’s basically yelling now, but it’s really indistinguishable from a deep lament. Maya can feel her own tears breaking through as well.
They’re both extremely surprised when the long silence is broken by a sob, but it doesn’t belong to either of them. It comes from the phone, from Vincenzo.
He’s crying, too.
Feels like crocodile’s tears, if Maya has to be honest. She doesn’t want to make matters worse, so she just stays silent and keeps her thoughts to herself.
“I buried him, too,” he finally says.
Carina’s tears have stopped, but her face is streaked. Red. “No. I held his hand when he was dying. It’s different.”
“My son died; you don’t think I know? You don’t think I cried?”
“Yes, I’m sure you did in your own way, but he wasn’t – I’m your child, too.”
Carina whispers the last part, before dropping the phone on the couch, physically unable to hold it any longer. She storms out of the room; the last thing Maya sees of her is her bloodshot eyes.
Maya stands still, frozen in the middle of the room. She doesn’t know what to do. The way Carina left makes her think she might need some space, but at the same time, she doesn’t want to leave her alone for too long. Before she can choose what to do, she hears Vincenzo’s voice coming from the phone on the couch.
Carina hasn’t hung up.
“Pronto? Hello?”
Before she can truly think about her next course of action, Maya picks up the phone.
“We have never met, and I’m not sure we ever will. If it were up to me, we wouldn’t, but this is Carina’s decision, and I will respect anything she chooses.”
She takes a deep breath before she keeps talking. “I know it’s not my place, but you’ve hurt my wife, so I think it’s okay if I’m a little inopportune. I don’t know what your goal here was, if you thought you’d get back into her graces, or – I don’t know. It doesn’t matter.”
Maya pauses for a moment, giving him a few seconds in case he wants to defend himself, but he stays quiet. The only reason Maya knows he’s still listening is his occasional heavy breathing.
“You don’t deserve to know anything about her life, or about our family. You’ve lost that privilege a long time ago. And it is, you know? A privilege. Knowing her. Loving her. Being loved by her. I don’t know how anyone could have something so good and let it go the way you did. You don’t deserve her.”
She closes her eyes, her rage finally turning into something else, something softer. “I don’t deserve her, but I work hard every day for the privilege of trying to.”
There’s a long moment of silence. Maya can finally breathe a little easier, that weight on her chest now lifted. She thinks of her wife somewhere in the house, probably crying, or trying not to. Maya hopes she’s not sitting in the shower. She’ll have to lift her.
Oh, whatever. So she will. She’ll carry her all day if she must.
She hears a sigh from the other side of the line. “Se l’è scelta buona,” he says almost solemnly.
Maya only understands buona but she’s not sure about the rest. She’ll assume it’s good.
“Maya Bishop,” he says, making Maya almost jump in surprise, “You are okay.”
Maya frowns. She’s not about to thank the man.
He keeps talking. “Will you tell her I am here, now? I was gone, but I’m not anymore. Maybe I am late, but will you tell her?”
She’s almost tempted to say no, but she’s not cruel. And it wouldn’t be right. She can’t keep this from Carina. If she just hangs up and pretends he’s never told her this, and Carina never talks to him again, then she will always be part of the reason why, and she can’t do this to her.
She doesn’t like the man. He doesn’t deserve her. But Maya isn’t a god, she can’t make this decision for Carina. It’s hers and hers alone.
“I will.”
“Grazie. È stato un piacere conoscerti,” he says, but he trails off, almost hesitant, before he decides to speak again, “What are their names?”
Maya is shocked for a moment. She wasn’t expecting that, and she has no idea what to say. Should she tell him? Would that go against Carina’s wishes? What are Carina’s wishes?
Before she can make the decision on her own, Maya senses movement near her and turns around finding Carina standing near the living room door. How long has she been there?
Her eyes are red, but the stormy expression on her face is gone, instead replaced by a timid smile. She nods at her once, giving her blessing.
“Liam. And Andrea.”
There’s a beat. Vincenzo doesn’t say anything, but she hears a loud exhale. “Thank you,” he eventually says.
Maya’s eyes are trained on Carina. Her wrangling hands and her tear streaked face. Her wife points at the phone before shaking her head. Maya doesn’t have to be told twice. She hangs up and throws the phone back on the couch.
Maya is at Carina’s side before the phone can land.
She doesn’t ask, and Carina doesn’t tell her. They fall into each other like it’s a play they’ve practiced millions of times. Carina’s arms around her shoulders pull her impossibly close. As close as you can, with a watermelon shaped belly in between.
They stay in that position for some time. Maya isn’t sure how long. She would’ve stayed like this all day.
“I’m sorry for talking to him. It wasn’t my place, I didn’t –”
Maya swallows her apologies back as Carina’s soft lips on her own interrupt her. She moves her hands from her back to her hips, slowly moving them up until she finds what she was looking for. She rests her hands on her belly, sure that their baby is going to make their presence be known soon – they always kick when they kiss.
They don’t deepen the kiss. It’s actually quite chaste, especially considering how insatiable Carina has been the last few weeks. She lets Carina take the lead and she sighs when she breaks the kiss. Maya is unable to stop herself from chasing after her. In any other moment, Carina would smirk and tease her, and Maya would play into it, until they both lie on their bed naked and satisfied, but this isn’t any other moment.
It’s Carina who breaks the silence. “Thank you,” she whispers. Maya can feel her breath on her lips.
Maya shakes her head lightly, as if to say no, don’t but Carina doesn’t let her argue. She cups her face, her thumbs gently stroking back and forth as she nods. “I love you.”
Her wife’s touch has the ability to ease all of her stress. Her worries. Maya knows it’s not particularly poetic or romantic, but sometimes she feels like she’s an old mattress with loose springs. Carina’s hands are able to fix her. Just like that, all the springs are back in place, the surface is smooth and soft once more.
“I love you,” Maya says back. As soon as she speaks, a small movement underneath her hand takes all her attentions.
Maya looks down at Carina’s belly, their foreheads touching. “And you,” she whispers, caressing the spot where their baby had kicked.
Almost like a roll call, the only member of their little family that hadn’t yet made themselves be heard, starts crying. Liam’s little whines quickly turns into a full blown crying session.
Maya smiles at the timing and sighs, knowing the day has just started. “And you,” she says a little louder, addressing the little boy currently making a fuss in the other room.
She shares a look with Carina. Neither of them says anything, but Maya understands either way. We’ll talk later.
~~
Maya loses track of time at some point. It’s only ten in the morning and suddenly it’s time for lunch. She can already feel the headache coming, and she’s sure Carina is in a very similar state.
She’s sure Carina hasn’t yet fully processed what’s happened, and Maya doesn’t want to push. So they stay silent for most of the time leading to lunch, the only real interactions some requests to grab some things in high places (the very first time this has happened in their relationship, and the very first time it’s happened to Maya at all. She only feels mildly smug about it) and some fleeting touches when passing each other in the hallway.
Maya knows her wife will come to her when she’s ready. And Carina knows she can count on Maya to be by her side when she does. They have both grown, alone and together, and their relationship has never been better. Which is why these moments scare Maya so much.
She’s constantly scared something will come along, anything that they will not be able to deal with. Something that will stretch them thin, destroy them beyond repair. She was almost that something, once. More than once. Maya knows she will never willfully do anything to hurt Carina, to hurt them, and she will do anything to protect what they have, but still… she lives in constant fear of something happening, and not being able to move past it.
She knows it’s irrational. She knows it because they’ve gone through so much, and still they’ve survived. So, clearly, they are capable of it. She knows rationally that if anything were to happen, they would discuss, communicate. They would do everything necessary to make sure they get through it.
Still, the fear haunts her. The memories haunt her. Carina’s bloodshot eyes, her pursed lips, her shaky voice. The back of her head as she leaves their bedroom, their apartment, her hospital room. Maya is illogically scared of the back of her head. Of her back. The slanted curve of her shoulders when she’s not facing her. Most days, she doesn’t even think about it. She’s finally gotten better, finally able to go a week or so without any intense nightmares, or overwhelming flashbacks. They’d almost done it before, almost moved on, but then the wildfire happened.
Maya notices the irony. The aftermath of those days, the damage they’ve caused, spreading within herself as fast and as smoothly as a wildfire.
They’d gone to sleep that night, the first night back, and she’d been content. Happy. She’d held Liam and Carina as tight as possible, had revelled in the fact she’d been holding their babies. The exhaustion had eventually revealed itself, her adrenaline crashing down as soon as their front door had been locked behind them. She’d been spent, her body aching, and she’d enjoyed the long shower they’d taken together.
That night, she’d woken up sweating, an overwhelming burning sensation in her entire body; opening her eyes hadn’t made the image of the walls of fire around her leave, the smoke hadn’t dissipated, and her chest had been so tight she’d felt like she was going to die.
Almost every night for the first two months, Maya had found herself waking up, her clothes wet with sweat, and her body aching as if it had been burned. Sometimes the memory wouldn’t be a memory. Sometimes it would change. She’d see Carina there, as well. She’d reach for her, scream, but she wouldn’t hear her; the flames would get bigger, higher, and all Maya could do was going through them. She’d run and run, the fire around her and on her, engulfing her completely, and it would still be too late. Too slow. The fire always got to Carina before she could. Sometimes it would be the opposite: the fire would get her, first. Sometimes it would get them after she’d reached her. Sometimes it would get her before she could even see her.
Maya isn’t exactly sure why this, above everything else, has managed to get to her this way. Maybe it’s the fact she’d found out about Carina being pregnant that same night. Maybe it’s the knowledge she’d almost died before she could know. When she’d told Carina she was afraid of dying on the job, a part of her almost wouldn’t believe that it could happen.
Because she’s been so close to disaster so many times, and every time she’s come home. Every broken bone and burn and scratch, every trip to the E.R. and every doctor appointment, they’d all led her back home.
This time, she hadn’t even needed any medical care. She’d been fine. She had some scratches and some minor burns on her back, but she’d been fine. No immediate response needed. No emergency ambulance ride, no splints, no stitches or MRIs. And yet, this is the one she can’t shake.
Even now, even after months, Maya can’t shake it. Sometimes she still wakes up in the middle of the night, her arms burning, her hands shaking. And every night, Carina is next to her, her soft snores slowly lulling her back to sleep. Every night, the baby monitor on her nightstand shows her son sleeping without a worry in the world. Every night, she looks at her family to ground her, all of them within her reach, all of them safe and peaceful.
And every time something that is outside of their normal routine happens, Maya panics. She’s been taking less and less shifts at the station, preferring desk duty over active. She’s taken a step back from danger as well as she can, even when she’s on scene. She lets the others take the lead, only does what is strictly necessary to ensure the victims and herself are safe.
She knows she needs help, but admitting that feels like a loss. Like all of the work she’s put into getting her life back on track has been worthless, seeing as she is back to needing help to get a full night sleep.
It’s frustrating. She’s spoken with Carina, of course. Her wife knows about her panicked state and her nightmares. She’s been seeing Dr. Lewis once a month, and has managed to keep the appointments sterile, to steer the conversation away from where it really matters. Maya is sure Diane knows. She always knows. But she trusts Maya to bring it up when needed.
It surprises her, even now, how she’s morphed into someone who can be trusted to make the right choice when it comes to these things. A year ago, Diane would’ve pushed until it drove her insane. This simple fact sometimes scares her. These new expectations on her weighing her down. Her brain unhelpfully provides her with new and improved methods of sabotaging herself, and she can’t do anything about it. Sometimes she wakes up after a nightmare to see Carina sleeping next to her, and her mind tells her run, go. It takes so much energy to get it to shut up. It’s like when she’s cooking, and her brain tells her put your hand on the fire. She knows the correct name for this is impulsive thoughts and it’s not unheard of, but it still makes her feel like she’s a guest in her own mind.
Growth, this Maya knows, is not a one way trip from point A to point B. It’s not a straight line, the road isn’t easy, and sometimes swerving into traffic feels like the easiest way out.
Maya is not quick to hate, but she hates this.
~~
Lunch goes by as quietly as the rest of the day. There’s not much excitement, except those twenty minutes at lunch when Liam decides using a spoon as a catapult is decidedly funnier than using it to scoop his food.
He’s now napping in his crib, and he will be out for the next two or so hours, so Maya tells Carina to take advantage of that time and rest. Though, as she enters the living room after doing the dishes, Maya sees her wife has been working on her laptop instead of lying down like Maya had originally meant.
She’s using her baby bump to prop her laptop. Maya is very strong willed, but even she can’t resist this sight. She quickly fishes her phone from her back pocket to snap a picture. It’s so ridiculous. She’s definitely going to get this one framed.
She’s still not sure if she should ask her, or say anything at all, but she’s worried the prolonged silence will make matters worse, so Maya decides to do the best next thing, and she asks her, without asking her.
“What does cannuto mean?”
Carina looks up at her with a frown, her hands hovering the keyboard. “What?”
“Uh, cannuto? Cannato?” she tries again, sitting down by Carina’s side on the couch.
Her wife raises her eyebrows, an amused smile making its away across her face as realization strikes her.
“You mean cornuto?”
“Isn’t that what I said?”
Carina’s laugh eases Maya’s growing worry.
Maya patiently waits for a minute or two, letting Carina finish what she’s doing. When she’s done, Carina lets her move her laptop away, so she can stay in her semi-leaning position. It doesn’t look comfortable at all, but she’s not the one with a cantaloupe-sized baby in her belly, so she doesn’t comment on it.
“It means horned,” Carina finally says.
Maya blinks a few times, a little lost. “Like… horny?”
Carina’s eyes widen slightly, her lips turning into a grin. “No! Stupida,” she rushes out, hitting her lightly on the arm.
Maya smiles, proud of her success at making Carina laugh.
“Horned, as in… with horns. Like a bull.”
“Right,” she nods.
Carina shakes her head, a ghost of a smile still on her lips. “Il bue che dà del cornuto all’asino. It means, uh, it’s like saying the pot calling the kettle black. The bull calling the donkey horned.”
Maya nods, but she’s still confused. “Why did you call him horned?”
Maya had almost expected Carina to get sad, or annoyed. Instead, she snorts, a smug look in her eyes.
“What?” Maya prompts, smiling as well.
“Horned is also slang for ‘being cheated on’. I think the English word is… cuck?”
Maya’s eyes widen, and she can’t stop the small laugh that escapes her at the revelation.
Well, that’s not what she’d expected.
“Wait, did your mom…?”
Carina shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe. She never said it, but my dad was sure she did. Even before they split, he kept accusing her. I think she might have… but after. When he wouldn’t stop accusing her.”
Maya has always known Carina’s parents had always been pretty complicated, not only as individuals, but also as a couple, so this new information doesn’t shock her. Still, it must have been hellish, being a child while all of that happened. And to top it off, being a mediator, as well. Maya feels so much pride and so much anger at the same time.
Anger, for what Carina’s parents put her through. Pride, for what she’s accomplished despite it all.
Before she can say anything about it, Carina leans towards her, gently pulling on her arm. Maya complies; she moves closer to her, moving her arm around Carina, so that her wife can lay her head on her shoulder.
They stay like that for a long moment and neither of them speaks, until Carina breaks the silence. Her voice is so low, Maya isn’t sure she would’ve heard her if she weren’t so close.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
Maya moves her other arm so she can take Carina’s hand in her own. “Okay,” she responds just as quietly, squeezing her hand.
“Not right now,” she continues.
Maya nods and mutters out okay once more.
“I love you,” she says, her lips moving against her neck.
Maya doesn’t try to hide the shiver her wife’s movement elicits. Carina knows she’s desired. How a single touch from her could render Maya speechless. She doesn’t have to pretend her wife doesn’t have this effect on her.
She feels Carina’s lips move, probably smiling at her reaction.
Maya moves her head slightly to leave a kiss on Carina’s head. “I love you, too.”
Carina squeezes her hand back and nuzzles closer, if that’s even possible. Maya doesn’t move again; she’s let Carina use her as a body pillow so many times already, it’s almost second nature. Even before the pregnancy, Carina always liked to cuddle while sleeping. And literally every other moment of the day. She would always inch closer and closer to her, whether they were in public or not, standing upright or not. Holding her hand, an arm around her shoulders, her legs on her lap, fingers combing through her hair.
Maya had never really been a touchy person. She’d never actively hated it, but had never searched it either. Carina had swept into her life with disarming ease and had touched everything in her path, changing it forever. Now, she craves her wife’s touch. She suffers through the longer shifts and can’t wait to fall into her arms at the end of the day. It’s almost funny, how clingy Maya has become. Her team jokes about it and Andy and Vic (whose distance from Seattle has done nothing to stop the teasing) are seemingly unable to let the monogamy is for the weak thing go.
Well, maybe Maya is weak. She’s putty in Carina’s hands. She won’t pretend she doesn’t melt every time Liam points at her and says ma or the way the baby kicks every time she’s close. Maya may or may not be weak, but she’s certainly dedicated.
That was the last part. Or the very, very dedicated. Her friends always conveniently forget about it.
Maya looks around the room. It’s a mess. There are boxes of furniture they (Maya and possibly a very disgruntled Andy) still have to assemble, at least two clothes hampers they have to fold, and so many more things to do before the baby comes. So much to do, so much to get through. So many things to discuss.
She sighs, holding Carina a little tighter. They’ll do it all. Not right now.
Like Maya’s said, preparations have been slow.