27. Close Your Eyes and Think Of Me

Within a few days of Governor Inslee’s stay-at-home order, Grey Sloan sees a marked increase in Covid patients. It is scary how quickly the virus takes control of the hospital, dictating the who and what and when. All non-urgent surgeries are cancelled and the ICU is expanded to double its usual size. Doctors are redeployed from their specialisms to the pit, assessing and treating emergencies, and trying to get patients home as quickly as possible to free up bed capacity.

PPE is mandatory amongst staff. Surgical masks, face shields and goggles all become part of daily life. The combination is heavy and uncomfortable; it leaves red marks on their skin; and they spend all day desperate for freedom from its constraints.

The hospital creates a Covid wing away on the third floor away from the hospital’s most vulnerable patients. The sick and injured are triaged outside, swabs taken to rule out strep throat before trying to figure out if it is just the flu or coronavirus. Only the most severe are taken inside – those with soaring temperatures or difficulty breathing or with underlying conditions that put them at high risk.

Those who work on the Covid wing are given enhanced PPE, with respirator masks and long-sleeved gowns for added protection. Who knows if it is making a difference, they have already seen doctors, nurses and orderlies displaying symptoms despite all the precautions they are taking. But it is all they can do to make them feeling like they are doing something.

Access to the OBGYN ward on the fourth floor is closed off to all non-essential personnel. IVF and assisted reproductive treatment gets halted, while routine appointments are shifted online or carried out in the parking lot, unless it is absolutely necessary to come inside. Carina doesn’t like it, knowing that such precautionary measures will increase the risk that complications will get missed.

Mamas-to-be in labour are isolated in their rooms and monitored until they are in the late stages of labour. They are allowed just one person with them, a partner or parent, sometimes a doula. Birthing plans are ignored. Carina has heard that there are a few hospitals in New York that have implemented a policy that forbids anyone but medical personnel in the room, which feels cruel to her. It is not something that any mama should go through alone.

The joy that usually fills the ward is dampened. There are no visitors, no balloons, no gift baskets. Patients are discharged as soon as possible after the birth, except they are denied the happy homecoming that they usually enjoy. Some go home to unfinished nurseries. Grandparents, aunts and uncles stay away, sticking to the rules to keep their families safe. There are rumours of people stockpiling diapers and baby supplies, causing chaos at the grocery store.

The end of the ward is reserved for labouring mamas with Covid symptoms. They are isolated with no visitors, only doctors and nurses who are hidden behind their PPE. Sometimes, in the worst cases, Carina has no choice but to take the baby away from its mama as soon as it is born to prevent infection. The cries from both mama and baby as they are separated haunt her all the time.

She has one mama-to-be on a ventilator. At thirty-three weeks, she needs to keep the baby in the mama’s belly for as long as possible, but pumps her with steroids just in case of an early labour. It is one of the most challenging cases she has ever dealt with and usually it would be something she would thrive on, but the burden of every case feels heavy on her shoulders right now.

For the firefighters of Seattle, there is a sharp increase in house calls as residents stay at home and find new ways to entertain themselves. It is ridiculous how many people get stuck in their attics as they clear out old junk that has accumulated there. Stoves catch fire as people experiment with recipes with disastrous results and home bonfires spread because people don’t know how to keep them under control.

With office buildings abandoned as employees work from home, electrical faults go unnoticed and inspections get cancelled, and Maya knows that it will come back to haunt them in the future. They see more DIY mishaps and sex injuries than ever, and these are often the kinds of calls that keep things light amongst the darkness.

They see more mental health crises and the number of domestic abuse calls go up. Maya thinks of her mom, still living alone in her small apartment but who admitted to her a few days ago that Lane has been calling to check up on her. Maya heard a wistful tone in her voice and it scares her to think that her mom might be tempted to forgive him out of fear or loneliness. She had a voicemail from him herself the other day which she hasn’t bothered to listen to yet – and maybe never will. There is too much going on right now for her to go there.

People are scared and frustrated. Some lose their jobs and their homes, and more than once Maya has arrived on shift to find someone asleep just outside the entrance, looking for help. Of course, their doors are now closed to the outside world and the whole team feels guilty about not being able to do more. She sends them in the direction of a homeless shelter, even though she knows they are overrun with people desperate to get off the street.

She hasn’t heard from Mason since she saw him under the bridge in the park a couple of years ago and sometimes she wonders if he’ll turn up at the station, looking to his big sister for help. It is a pipe dream, she knows that, but she hangs on to it anyway, refusing to give up on her hope that they will reconcile one day.

For the most part, people are compliant, but social distancing disappears the moment they are faced with a crisis, and Maya spends her time trying to keep her team safe while also looking after their community.

There are, of course, those people who believe that Covid is a myth and designed to control people; or a man-made virus introduced to decrease the surplus population. Maya has to stop her eyes from rolling in her head sometimes as those idiots try to persuade her that she is a puppet of the American government. She doesn’t tell Carina about them, knowing that her girlfriend is seeing far worse than she is every day at work.

Their downtime at the station is mostly spent apart. They take turns using the beanery, and no more than two are allowed in the break room. Dean and Jack try to keep things lighthearted with their jokes and tomfoolery, but Maya can sense how worried everyone is about their families and loved ones. She hears them on the phone, the stress in their voices apparent as they remind their parents that it is not okay to pop round to their neighbours’ house for a quick catch up and that they need to remember to wear their masks when they go to the grocery store.

She misses Carina like crazy. They talk when they can, in between call outs and emergency patients, and they Facetime on their days off, but it is not the same as being in the same room; of feeling a hand on the small of her back or her breath on her neck; of smelling her perfume or hearing her laugh.

These thoughts distract her from the number of call out reports that are piling up on her desk, that she never seems to have time to do because as soon as she sits down to try to clear them, another call comes. She will close her eyes and imagine that Carina is there with her, closing the gap between their bodies with that telling smirk of hers. She can feel her hands slip around her waist and taste the coffee on her lips as she presses them against hers. Her heart will start to beat faster as she anticipates her next move, following her hand as it traces her abs and moves lower…

Engine nineteen, ladder nineteen, yard fire at 1825 South King Street.

The call disrupts Maya from her daydream and she jolts awake. She hears a commotion outside as the team race towards the barn. Maya jumps out of her chair and follows them, pulling on her turnout gear before climbing into the engine truck. Travis takes the driver’s seat and they pull out of the station. Maya scans the tablet for more details from the operator who took the call.

“Looks like another family burning waste in their back yard,” Maya says.

“Ten bucks says it’s the dad’s porn collection that he’s trying to hide from his wife,” Dean teases, causing them all to chuckle.

They turn the corner into South King Street and Travis pulls up outside the house, the ladder truck close behind them. They tumble out and the smell hits their noses straight away, wafts of thick grey smoke drifting upwards and through the air. They all reach for their masks and pull them over their faces to dim the stench.

A woman opens the side gate and beckons them into the back yard.

“Gibson, Montgomery, get the hose,” Maya says. “Miller, you’re on hydrant duty. Warren, Herrera, grab the powder extinguishers. The rest of you, with me.”

They all nod obediently, while Vic falls into step next to her.

“How many times are we gonna have to ask people not to do this before they pay attention?” she grumbles.

They can see neighbours crowding outside their homes, watching with interest – and probably annoyance too, as the smell drifts into their own back yards.

Maya leads them towards the woman who waits for them by the gate. “Ma’am, I’m Captain Maya Bishop,” she says, introducing herself. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“We’ve been clearing out our daughter’s room. The garbage trucks missed their usual pick up this week, so we thought we’d burn some of our trash because there was so much of it. Except it won’t stop burning, no matter how much water we throw on it – it’s only getting worse.”

It is a story they have heard many times over the last couple of weeks, as people burn their excess rubbish. As they enter the yard, they see a pile of trash in the centre, burning bright orange flames. The family have built it within a large circle of stones, at least attempting to contain it, except the flames rise high above them. Underneath the piles of trash bags, Maya sees a tricycle and discarded doll’s house.

“What’s in the bags?” she asks the owners.

“Old papers and magazines, some of our daughter’s baby clothes,” the woman says.

“Anything from the garage?”

“Some old paint tins and brushes, paint thinner, stuff we used to redecorate our daughter’s bedroom,” the husband answers.

Jack and Travis appear with the hose, pointing it towards the fire.

“Ready for us, Bishop?” Gibson asks.

Maya shakes her head and extends her arm to stop them from acting too quickly. “Hold the water. We need the dry powder, this is a chemical fire.” Jack and Travis lower the hose, as Maya looks over her shoulder. “Warren, Herrera, see what you can do.”

Ben and Andy step forwards and attack the fire with their extinguishers. It soon starts to work, the flames gradually dampening. A few embers float through the air, catching plants and wooden trellises, and sparking small fires. Maya gives the nod to Jack and Travis to put them out, the pressure from the hose extinguishing them quickly.

When the fire is out and they are satisfied that there is no chance of it reigniting, the team pack away the hose as Maya talks to the family about the dangers of burning a fire in their yard without the right experience or knowledge. As she walks back to the truck, she removes her mask to breathe in some fresh air. There is still a strong stench from the burning plastic and chemicals that makes her grimace. A bead of sweat falls down her cheek and she wipes it away with the sleeve of her turnout coat.

She hears someone calling out a name and turns just as a young girl runs up to her.

“Sarah!” comes a man’s cry, which the child ignores.

“Excuse me, Miss, I made this for you,” the young girl says through her cotton mask, thrusting a piece of paper into Maya’s hands.

Taken aback, Maya hesitates for a moment before accepting it. She looks down to find a messily drawn picture of a fire truck and two firefighters pointing a hose at a fire. In thick black crayon at the top of the page, the note reads ‘Thank you Seattle firefighters’. Maya can’t help but smile, a warmth spreading through her chest at the kind gesture.

She looks down at the young girl. “Your name’s Sarah?”

The girl nods.

“Thank you, Sarah. My name’s Maya, I’m the fire captain. I’m gonna show to this to my team and I know they’re going to love it,” Maya says. “Are you and your family staying at home, like the Governor asked?”

“Yes, Miss,” Sarah says. “I have to do my school work in the morning, then me and my mom have been doing crafts in the afternoon.”

“Good, I’m glad to hear it,” Maya says. From over the young girl’s head, she sees her father approaching cautiously. “Now you should go back inside and be safe, okay?”

“Okay,” Sarah says. She looks up at Maya with a hopeful look on her face. “Will you play the sirens when you leave? They’re really cool.”

Maya narrows her eyes playfully. “You think we should?”

Sarah nods enthusiastically and Maya flashes her a smile. “Okay then.”

Sarah cheers as she spins and runs back to her dad, who waves his thanks to her. Maya watches as they walk back to their house, the young girl chatting animatedly. Once they are safely back on their own front lawn, she heads back to the truck.

“Everything okay, Captain?” Warren asks, as she climbs into her seat.

“We have a fan,” Maya says as she passes him the picture. She leans over and calls out to the front seat. “Hey, Travis?”

“Yes Cap?”

“Drive slowly and sound the siren as we go,” Maya instructs him.

Travis looks curiously at her. “Really?”

She nods. Travis does as he is told and she watches from her seat as, house by house, the residents of South King Street stand on their front lawns, waving and cheering at them as they go. Behind them, the ladder truck copies, and Maya feels pride at the love that is thrown at them, glad to see her team enjoying their moment.

When they get back to the station, Maya assigns them chores and then retreats to her office, determined to catch up on paperwork. She pulls out her cell phone and notices a missed call from Carina, immediately forgetting about the outstanding reports as she calls her back.

Carina answers after the sixth ring. “Ciao bella,” she greets her, drawing a smile on Maya’s face.

“Hey, sorry I missed your call, we were out at another yard fire,” Maya apologises. “How are you?”

“I’m okay,” Carina says, although the weariness in her voice tells Maya otherwise. “I was just calling you on my way home to hear your voice.”

That usually means that she has had a rough day.

“How bad was today?”

Carina sighs, her breath shaky. “A patient with preeclampsia who didn’t come in for her last check up because she thought she wasn’t allowed to. She went into early labour – twenty-three weeks. The bambino is in the NICU but it doesn’t look good. Even if he makes it, it’s likely he’ll have severe learning disabilities.”

She has lost more babies in the last two weeks than her entire career, and she doesn’t know what to do with all the guilt and devastation she carries.

“And the mom?”

“In the ICU, but doing well,” Carina says. Her voice cracks. “This all feels too real and not real at all.”

“I know,” Maya says softly. Her arms ache to wrap her girlfriend up in an embrace and hold her until the stress falls away.

“All these babies dying, Maya, and I’m not…”

“Hey,” Maya says. “It’s not your fault. You’re doing everything you can.”

“But it’s not enough.”

“It is,” Maya says. “It is. Look, I know the losses feel bigger than the wins right now. And I don’t think that’s gonna change for a while. But don’t ever think that what you’re doing isn’t enough, because it is. In this crazy, fucked up world right now, it’s more than enough.”

Carina lets the words sink in, Maya’s voice wrapping around her like a warm cloak.

“Thank you, bella,” Carina says softly. She settles back into her couch, her feet tucked up underneath her. “How is your shift? Did you get much sleep last night?”

The A shift have been pulling a double, too many on sick leave because of Covid symptoms, and Carina knows how little she sleeps when she is at work.

“Some, in between calls,” Maya says. She barely got two hours last night and no more than thirty minutes at one time. “This afternoon’s call was more idiots burning chemical waste in their back yard.” She pauses, leaning back in her chair and swivelling gently back and forth. “I thought I saw Mason yesterday.”

Carina’s eyebrows arch in surprise. “You thought you saw him?”

“We got called to a fire at an office block downtown. There’s no-one working there at the moment because of the stay-at-home order, so a group of homeless people have been squatting, trying to stay safe. They were getting high and one of them dropped a half-lit joint in the trash can, and it caught fire. They were too stoned to know what they were doing. Someone grabbed what they thought was a bottle of water but it was some kind of cleaning product that had been left lying around – and whoosh! The whole thing got out of control quickly.”

Carina can hear her rambling and prompts her to talk about what’s on her mind.

“And you thought you saw Mason?”

She knows Maya has been keeping an eye out for him since the pandemic began, even more than usual.

“As soon as SPD turned up, they ran. Didn’t want to get caught squatting,” Maya says. “This guy ran past me, tall with blonde hair and skinny legs, just like Mase, and I thought…”

She had grabbed his arm as he had passed her and he had shrugged her off, looking over his shoulder to scowl at her. His features weren’t as soft as Mason’s, his eyes a dark brown instead of the bright blue eyes he shared with his sister – inherited from their father.

“I just hate not knowing where he is.”

“I know,” Carina says softly. It is her turn to wish that she could wrap Maya up in her arms and feel her head against her chest, breathing in the scent from the shampoo she has stolen from her.

“But,” Maya says, determined to cheer up her girlfriend and stop them both from wallowing in the sorrow of the pandemic, “a sweet kid from the house next door to this afternoon’s fire gave me a drawing as a thank you and we turned the siren on as we left. All these people came out to wave at us. It felt very self-indulgent.”

“But good?”

Maya smiles. “Yeah, it felt good. And it cheered the team up.”

“How are they all doing?” Carina asks.

“They’re okay. Worried about their families and loved ones, like everyone else,” Maya says. “How’s Andrew?”

A low growl of frustration escapes from Carina’s mouth at the mention of her little brother, making Maya smile.

“He’s still leaving his dirty towels on the bathroom floor, huh?”

“Ugh worse,” Carina says. “Yesterday I found his stinky socks stuffed down the side of my couch!”

Maya crinkles her nose, while suppressing a laugh.

“It’s not funny!” Carina says, sensing her amusement. “Why are boys so disgusting?”

“I don’t know,” Maya says, her mind turning to a memory. “We always had to be neat growing up ‘cos my dad liked a tidy house, but Mason used to collect dirty dishes in his bedroom because he was too lazy to take them downstairs after he’d finished with them.”

“Of course,” Carina mutters.

“I remember I was looking for my calculator once to do my homework because he always used to lose his, so he’d steal mine, and I reached under his bed to grab his backpack. Big mistake.” Maya shudders with revolt. “My hand landed on his old cereal dishes. It was so gross, there was mould growing on them and it stunk so bad.”

Carina grimaces. “Boys are gross.”

“Hey!” comes a jeer from the doorway as Andrew enters the room.

Carina shoots him a playful glare. “Parli del diavolo…”

Andrew grins as he flops down on the couch next to her. “Is that Maya?”

Carina nods.

“Hey Maya!” Andrew calls out to her.

Carina narrows her eyes at him. “Did you want something?”

Andrew reaches for the remote and switches on the television. “There’s a repeat of an old Brewers versus Mariners game from last year I wanted to watch.”

Carina looks at him blankly.

“Baseball,” Maya says, knowing that Carina doesn’t follow the sport. She raises her voice so that Andrew can hear her through the speaker. “Tell him he’s gonna be disappointed with how badly his team plays.”

“I heard that!” Andrew says. “Shame the Mariners haven’t won a game in the last three months!”

“Okay, you two,” Carina says, getting up from her seat and wandering over to the kitchen area to pull out a wine glass. This isn’t the first time they have sparred down the phone with each other and she finds it endearing really.

On the other end of the call, Maya sighs. “I should get back my work,” she says, haunted by the pile of unfinished reports next to her. “Maybe we can Facetime tomorrow?”

“Si. I have some new lacey underwear to show you.”

Maya smirks as she hears Andrew grumbling “I can hear you…” in the background.

“It’s a date,” Maya says, knowing she will be counting down the hours and minutes until they see each other, even if it is via a screen. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Carina says.

She hangs up, pours herself a glass of wine, and heads over to the couch, slumping down next to her brother. He looks across at her and leans forward, picking up the remote to pause the game. He has a look on his face that tells her he wants to have a serious conversation.

“Is everything okay?” Carina asks, her brow furrowing with concern.

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Andrew says. “More than fine, actually.”

Carina’s heart drops, knowing what is coming next.

“You’re ready to move home?”

Andrew nods. “I’m good, Carina. And I’m grateful for everything you’ve done. For taking care of me, for getting me the help I needed. I never would have done it without you.” He leans back against the soft cushions, shoulder-to-shoulder with his sister, and turns his head to look at her. “But it’s time for me to go home. I need my independence. And you need to live with someone who doesn’t leave his dirty socks everywhere.”

He grins cheekily, nudging her arm gently with his until he makes her smile.

“You’re sure?” Carina asks.

“I’m sure,” Andrew says. “You’ll still be able to keep an eye on me at work.”

He has been back at Grey Sloan for three days, and it feels like he has been thrown into the belly of the beast, returning as the pandemic is rapidly getting worse. Carina asks him constantly if he is coping with it and he sees how hard it has been on her. He doesn’t want to be another burden on her shoulders, knowing that she is juggling her worries about work and their Papa – who refuses to answer their calls – and their family in Italy, who are all slowly getting sick, some worse than others. Their Zio Ricardo was admitted to hospital yesterday in respiratory distress and was immediately put onto a ventilator.

“Will you be okay on your own?”

Carina shakes her head dismissively, doesn’t want him to worry about her. “I’ll be fine.”

“You know, if you want company, I’m pretty sure Maya would move in,” Andrew says.

Carina keeps insisting that it is the right thing to do for them to quarantine apart, that it is safer for both of them, but Andrew isn’t convinced by it. She told him that they had split up for a few days while he was at Bellevue, but won’t tell him why. He can’t help but wonder if Carina’s decision has been influenced by whatever happened between them. He knows his sister has a big heart and loves fiercely, but this is the first time he has seen her heart so open to another person as it is to Maya, and he thinks she is treading more cautiously because of it.

“Andrea…”

“I’m just saying – you don’t have to be alone, if you don’t want to be,” Andrew says before she has the chance to tell him again why they aren’t living together throughout the pandemic.

“Okay,” is all Carina says, and Andrew doesn’t push her any more.

He moves out the next day and the house is quiet – and cleaner – without him. It had only been a couple of weeks, but she had got used to him being there and now it is strange without him. She always makes sure to check in with him several times a day at work, until he threatens to have Bailey call security on her.

By Friday, Carina is facing a lonely weekend by herself and despite another gruelling week at work, there is a part of her that wants the day to go as slowly as possible because it is better than forty-eight hours of rearranging yet another cupboard in her house.

Just after lunch, she finishes her virtual check in with one of her patients and closes the screen, lowering the tablet on to her desk. Before she has time to rest, her pager beeps, alerting her to another emergency. She grabs her lab coat as she leaves her office, putting it on as she walks swiftly towards the elevators. She exits on the first floor, heading straight to the back doors, pausing only to pull on her PPE. Helm waits for her outside.

“What are we expecting?” Carina asks, just as the aid car comes into view.

“Home delivery gone wrong,” Taryn answers.

Carina shakes her head with frustration. Too many mamas are afraid to come to the hospital in fear of exposing themselves and their babies to Covid, so they are choosing home deliveries, sometimes without any medical help nearby in case of complications.

She notices the A19 on the side of the vehicle and looks up just as the door opens and Travis’s figure appears. She goes to smile, glad to see a friendly face, but she stops when she sees him. He is pale, shock painted all over his face. 

She steps forward to help him lower the gurney to the ground. “What happened?”

“Michaela George, thirty-two years old. Forty-one weeks pregnant, has been in labour for the last thirteen hours. Baby suffered shoulder dystocia on delivery.” If it’s possible, he grows even more white. “Husband tried to get the baby out and…”

Carina looks down at the sheet that covers the patient’s lower half, stained by patches of deep red blood. She lifts it and her stomach twists into a knot when she sees the trauma that has been caused. The baby’s head, grey and limp, hangs between the woman’s legs. She hears Taryn gasp behind her.

“She’s bleeding, Carina, and we couldn’t…,” Travis stumbles over his words, clearly distraught by what he has seen. He reads out the patient’s vital signs, his hand gripping the gurney as they start to move into the emergency room. The mama is unconscious – a small mercy, Carina thinks, that she isn’t aware of what is going on and what has to happen to save her life.

“Travis, you can’t come in,” Carina says, reminding him of their Covid protocols.

“Yeah, but…”

“Travis,” she says, softening her tone, but speaking with urgency. “You can’t.”

Travis relents and lets go of the gurney, watching as they disappear into the hospital.

“Trauma one,” Owen says.

“I might need an OR,” Carina tells him and he nods, promising to come back to her with an empty OR room number soon.

When they are safely behind closed doors, Carina orders an oxygen mask for the mama, six units of o-neg and a uterotonic, then pulls the sheet off to survey the mess. It is clear that, instead of pushing the baby back in, the husband had tried to pull him out, most likely causing a haemorrhage which is where all the blood is coming from.

“How are we going to get the baby out,” Taryn asks.

“Let’s go with suprapubic pressure,” Carina says. “Have you done it before?”

Taryn shakes her head and Carina has to suppress her frustration. She needs two pairs of hands to get the baby out as fast as possible if they are going to have any hope in saving the mama. There is no time to call anyone else, so she places the mama’s legs into stirrups, then talks Taryn through the procedure, showing her where to place her hands and how to manipulate the baby’s shoulders. Thankfully, Taryn is smart and quickly picks up on what she has to do.

They release him after a couple of minutes and his lifeless body slips out into Carina’s hands. She doesn’t have time for feelings, as a gush of blood follows, spilling onto the floor and her sneakers. She hands the baby off to a nurse then focuses all of her attention on her patient.

“Helm, I need you to do uterine massage,” Carina orders.

Taryn starts to massage the belly, as Carina examines the uterus. It is a mess and she can’t see where the bleeding is coming from.

“Dammit,” she mutters. “Let’s get her to an OR, I’m going to need to open her up. Taryn, keep massaging.”

Once Taryn has climbed on to the gurney, Carina pulls it towards the door, assisted by two nurses, where Owen directs them to OR three. A surgical team is assigned to her and they prepare the patient for surgery, as Carina scrubs her hands clean and gets gowned up.

She carries out a laparotomy and clears the placenta, before stemming the source of the bleeding. She is grateful at least that she doesn’t have to perform a hysterectomy, giving the parents another chance of having a baby, if that is what they want. She doesn’t underestimate the emotional trauma they will both go through after this and she makes a mental note to make sure someone from psychiatry comes down tomorrow to talk to the mama.

Once her patient is in recovery, Carina retreats to her office, needing a moment to breathe. It is only when she has that privacy that she lets the emotion of what she has just seen wash through her. Her body convulses as she lets out a sob, the sound reverberating around the room. She drops onto the sofa in the corner, hugging a pillow to her chest and letting her tears fall into her lap.

This shouldn’t have happened. Michaela should have felt safe to come to the hospital, to be surrounded by doctors and nurses while giving birth to her baby boy safely and with her husband by her side. She shouldn’t have felt like she had to do it on her own. Carina’s heart hurts, the anger and fear and loneliness she feels overwhelming her. She wails, not caring if anyone hears her. She needs to let it out, she can’t hold all these feelings inside.

She cries until her eyes run dry and her body aches, finally calming her breathing. The walls of the hospital feel like they are closing in on her and she can’t be here any more. She texts Helm with instructions to keep an eye on Michaela and to call her if there are any further complications, then grabs her coat and bag, heading out of her office, slipping past the nurses’ station and down the stairs to avoid any small talk in the elevator.

She bumps into Bailey on her way out – literally, almost knocking the smaller woman over as she brushes past her.

“Hey!”

About to berate whoever just shoved her, Bailey stops in her tracks when she catches sight of Carina, noticing immediately that something is off.

“DeLuca!” Bailey calls after her. “Carina!”

Carina turns a little, trying but failing to hide her face, with her red eyes and swollen cheeks giving away her distress.

“I have to go,” she says.

Bailey steps towards her. “Is it Andrew?” she says in a low voice so as not to draw any attention to their conversation.

Carina shakes her head. “No, no he’s fine,” Carina says. “Don’t tell him, please. I just… I have to go.”

“Okay,” Bailey says, not challenging her.

Carina spins and heads towards the door, keeping her face down so that she doesn’t catch anyone’s eye. Bailey watches her go, unsure what to do. She can’t let Carina go home by herself in that state, whatever caused it, but she won’t go back on her promise not to tell Andrew. Instead, she pulls out her phone and speed dials her husband.

“Ben? I need you to do something for me.”

Twenty minutes later, Carina pulls up outside her townhouse and switches off the engine, her head dropping back against the headrest as she takes a deep breath. She barely noticed the drive home, too caught up in her thoughts and feelings. She knows that all that is waiting for her is an empty house and an empty refrigerator, because she was supposed to stop by the grocery store on her way home tonight – not that she is in the mood to eat anything.

She gets out of her car and trudges up to her house, not bothering to turn on the lights as she steps inside. She drops her keys into the bowl and slips out of her shoes, heading straight upstairs to her bedroom. She gets changed into her comfiest pyjamas and crawls into bed without taking off her make up, lying on her side and curling up into a ball.

She doesn’t care that it is early, she is exhausted – like she always is at the moment – and prays for sleep to come quickly. It doesn’t. Today’s events replay in her mind, over and over again.  

The doorbell rings and she ignores it, but whoever is outside is persistent. She swears if Bailey told Andrew that she saw her so upset, she’ll give her a piece of her mind – but then she hears a familiar voice calling her name.

Maybe she is dreaming but there it is again, and intrigue gets the better of her. She drags herself out of bed and goes downstairs, quickly putting a mask over her mouth and opening the door just a little to peek outside.

“Maya! You’re here?”

Maya keeps her distance, hanging back on the porch, although her body language says that she is restraining herself from marching inside.  

“Travis told me about the patient he brought to the hospital,” she says. “He was pretty cut up about it. And then Bailey called Ben and told him that you were upset, and she was worried about you. I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“What about work?” Carina asks, knowing that Maya is not supposed to leave the station when she is on shift, especially when she is captain.

“Andy’s covering for me,” Maya says. “I can’t stay long, but I hated the thought of you coming home alone.”

“You shouldn’t be here,” Carina says. “I’ve been at the hospital all day, and you’ve been at work, and we might…”

“I don’t have to come inside,” Maya interrupts her. “Six feet apart, I promise. I just thought we could talk, that’s all.”

She shrugs off her jacket and places it on the ground, sitting down and leaning against the house. She looks up expectantly at Carina, waiting for her to do the same. Carina drops to the floor, her back against the wooden panels, the door just ajar so that they can see each other.  

“How bad was it?” Maya asks.

“The worst I’ve seen,” Carina admits. “I don’t just mean the pandemic. It was like the kind of horror story you hear about at med school and you convince yourself that it’ll never happen to you.” She shakes her head, tears pooling in her eyes.

“Did the mom make it?”

“Yeah, she did,” Carina says. “But I don’t know how she’s ever gonna get over this. And I have to tell her tomorrow what happened to her baby and she won’t even have her husband with her when I do.”

“Does it have to be you?” Maya asks. “I thought you had the weekend off.”

“I do, but I can’t ask someone else to do it. She’s my patient, it should be me,” Carina says. She tips her head backwards, knocking it against the door frame a few times.

“Hey,” Maya says gently. “It’s okay to be upset.”

“I’m not upset, Maya. I’m angry,” Carina says. “I’m angry about the pandemic, and what it’s doing to my family, and what it’s doing to my patients and my colleagues. I’m angry that all the joy has been sucked out of life and every day is just another day of masks and face shields and six feet apart when more than ever people need each other close. And when it’s not, I’m rattling around in this stupid, big house by myself. I’m angry that you’re here and you can’t come inside, and I want that more than anything right now.” She rubs her eyes with the back of her hand. “And I’m tired of feeling angry, Maya. But right now it feels like it’s never going to end.”

Maya tips her head to look at her through the gap in the doorway, desperate to break her way in and wrap her girlfriend up in a hug.

“Close your eyes.”

Carina looks at her, blinking the tears away to clear her blurred vision. “Why?”

“Just trust me and do it.”

Carina does as she is asked, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

“We’re on the couch in my apartment,” Maya says in a soft, gentle voice. “The lights are dim and you’re burning one of those pine candles that makes it smell like Christmas. We’ve got a blanket over our legs and my hand is holding yours.”

Carina feels her skin tingle as she imagines Maya’s hand wrapped around hers, her thumb running lightly over her knuckles.

“Your head’s on my shoulder and we’re listening to some Italian music that your Nonna used to play when you were a little girl. It’s warm and cosy, and we’ve shut the door on the outside world for the night. And it’s just us.”

Carina feels a calmness settle over her, all of her focus on Maya’s voice as she speaks.

“You’re telling me a story about you and Andrew getting in trouble with your mom when you were kids, and I’m telling you about some stupid joke that Dean pulled on Vic at work, and we’re laughing. And no-one and nothing can make us feel angry or upset. It’s like the nothing exists except us, in our own little bubble.”

Carina opens her eyes to see Maya looking at her. “You’re good at this.”

“Yeah, well, it’s what I do when I’ve had a bad shift,” Maya says, a little shyly. She doesn’t think of the clouds so much any more; her safe place is with Carina, it’s where she has learned to sleep and rest and love.

“Really?”

“Well, usually you’re naked,” Maya teases, feeling relieved when she hears Carina laugh.

“Thank you, Maya,” Carina says.

“Any time,” Maya says. “I mean it, if you need me, I’ll come.”

It was not long ago that Maya had stood outside the hospital and promised that she would spend every day trying to convince her that she could trust her – and Carina realises that is exactly what she has been doing, even after earning her forgiveness.

Maya’s cell phone pings and she looks down, a small frown crinkling her forehead.

“Do you have to get back to work?”

Maya shoots her an apologetic look. “Yeah. I’m sorry I can’t stay longer. Are you okay?”

Carina nods, shooting her a small smile. “I am now.”

Carina stands first, a signal to Maya that she can go back to work without feeling guilty. Maya stands too, picking up her jacket and brushing off the dust from the ground.

“Will you call me tomorrow once you’re back from work?” she asks, as she slips her hands into the arms of her jacket and pulls it over her shoulders.

Carina knows it is her way of asking her to check in after what they both know will be another emotional day for her. “I will, I promise.”

It feels strange to say goodbye without a kiss or an embrace, and they stand awkwardly for a moment, not knowing how to navigate this weird situation. Maya is the first one to almost break, lifting one foot as if she is about to step forwards.

“Six feet, Maya,” Carina says lightly, even though there is a part of her that wants to break the rules too.

“Right,” Maya says, lowering her foot again. “It’s your fault for being so damn beautiful, you know.”

Her eyes twinkle, grinning as Carina giggles.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, bella,” Carina says.

She shuffles closer to the door, watching as Maya steps off the porch and goes back to her car. Once she is gone, Carina goes back upstairs and cleans her face, tying her hair back into a loose ponytail and climbing under the sheets. A wave of exhaustion washes through her and she feels like sleep might come more easily now. She closes her eyes and imagines Maya’s body spooned against hers, an arm slung over her waist, their hands entwined, a soft snore coming from behind her. It is that thought that allows her to drift off into the first peaceful slumber she has had in weeks.