Chapter Text
Maya
Holy shit! That was my first thought when we arrived at the scene. Giant flames had blasted the windows out of the hospital’s towers. Grey+Sloan Memorial Hospital was the premier hospital in Seattle, and one of our newest probies seemed particularly ecstatic to get off the rig. As soon as the engine came to a stop, I jumped out and pulled up the schematics on my tablet. Walking over to Robert Sullivan, the Battalion Chief, my direct superior, the one I had to thank and prove to that this promotion was mine and not his wife's. "Chief. 19, where do you want us?"
Usually, I would coordinate the scene, but since the incident had quickly escalated into a 3-alarm fire, that task was deferred to the highest-ranking on scene. He pinched his nose at the smell of smoke in the air before looking down at me. "Bishop, I want 19 on search and rescue. Coordinate your team to set up aid, and you'll lead the search. I need all our best people on this. They save us, it’s time we save them."
"Heard!" I quickly turned to my team, already putting on their oxygen masks, "19! Search and rescue! Herrera, Montgomery, and Warren, I need you to set up aid. Herrera, you're my eyes and ears from the outside." I walked over and grabbed my mask from inside the engine. "Hughes, Miller, Gibson, on me, we are going in!” I directed, taking the three seconds to get my mask on before moving inside.
We entered through the hospital's ER doors, since it was the least compromised and offered the best routes throughout the rest of the hospital. The squawk of Andy came into my mask. "Captain, copy. Triage is set. 23 is on standby, joining search and rescue soon."
Typical 23 joining the charge with their fashionably late response time. My station was the fastest and the best, I prided myself on it. Eyes forward, Bishop. No one will be left behind on my watch. "19!"
"19!" I heard my team behind me as we started up the stairs. Going level to level, Hughes and Gibson cleared the 2nd level. I went in with Miller on the 3rd. "Cap. 4 civilians coming out now." Andy's voice was direct and to the point. She was my best friend, and somehow I've never felt more distant from her.
There was a time I would have pushed Andy ahead of myself because it was what I believed friends did, but it seemed we both had different ideas on what it meant to have female solidarity. It was hard, but she would have to learn that what’s yours is earned and can’t be stolen. "Copy Lieutenant! Gibson and Hughes meet us up on 3, it's Maternity, and it's not looking too good," I said as I checked the pulse of a security guard. I couldn’t feel anything through my glove, so I took it off to check again. His pulse was barely there, very thready. "Sir! Can you hear me?!"
I turned him on his back and checked his pulse again. It hadn’t gotten any better with the change of position. Tapping his face to see if consciousness would strike him. By the look of his 3rd degree burns, even if he did, it wouldn't last long. His eyes shot open, and he immediately started struggling to breathe. "Hi! I'm Captain Maya Bishop. Can you tell me your name?"
"It hurts!" he groaned out in pain, reaching towards the burns on his chest. His eyes widened as if he were remembering something. "She's trapped!" he screamed, instantly looking around to understand where he was.
"Who!? Where!? Sir, tell me your name." There was someone else. The question was where. I looked at Miller, shaking his head, trying to tell me the man’s fate wasn’t looking too good. I scowled at him, telling him we had to help him anyway.
"J- Jones, Michael Jones— and a doctor! Aaah," he grimaced and squeezed my hand hard. "She— she got almost everyone off the floor, but on her way back to get a baby, the floor above us gave out." I shut my eyes. This was horrible. But it also told me that the wing's structure was no longer stable, and that search and rescue needed to cease.
"Chief, this is Bishop. The structure is no longer stable. 4 collapsed on 3." I waited to hear back from Sullivan to receive the order I knew was coming. Still, my mind was trying to figure out where else this doctor could be. Her family still deserved to bury someone, even if it was too late. A body is better than no body— I know I’d want to see one to know it’s real.
"Copy Bishop pull out, get on fire attack. We are at about 40 percent containment. Hopefully, we can preserve the rest of the structure." I let him know I heard him and looked at Miller before echoing to my team to pull out and imitate a fire attack on the east front.
"Wait, you h-have to-to help her," he grumbled, pulling at my arm with every ounce of strength that he had left, before he started coughing up blood. I shook my head, not understanding, "She-she's alive! I managed to pull her into a room before the fire came! Please do what I could-could-couldn't."
He was choking on his own blood, but by the time I got him on his side to clear his airway, he had already let go of my arm. He was gone. I looked at Dean, who seemed to read my expression immediately. He was immediately against my idea, "Oh no! Captain, you heard the Chief!"
"Miller, you can go, or you can stay. You have Pru to think about after all. I can’t go. Not when there is someone else on this floor who can still be saved." I stood up, holding my ground on this decision as I looked at my firefighter, who seemed equally as firm on his. “Then grab Michael and go, Miller. That’s a direct order!”
"We don't leave each other behind! You want to be a cowboy, fine! But I've got your six," he affirmed, holding onto his axe. I pulled mine out as we linked our ropes to move through the smoke more effectively without losing one another. Eventually, we arrived at the pile of rubble where the floor had collapsed. The fire had died out for lack of oxygen, leaving behind a thick grey smoke that made it impossible to see anything.
"Hello!? Seattle FD, is anyone here? If you can hear me yell or make noise!" I yelled, but heard nothing. In a leap of faith, I closed my eyes to see if I could hear any noise. I yelled again, and this time I heard a faint yell followed by a pounding noise coming from a room down the hall, away from the wreckage. My eyes shot open, "Keep making that noise, we are coming to you!"
“What noise!?” Dean asked. Before I could answer, my walkie squawked.
"Bishop, come in. Where the hell are you?" It was Hughes on the radio, with the sounds of water spraying in the background. I sighed.
"There's a civilian alive, who we couldn’t leave behind. We’re on our way out," I announced, feeling the tug on my rope. Yes, it was a lie, but one I knew would buy me time. Miller tugged on the rope again, forcing my eyes up to scowl at me. Miller knew we would not hear the end of it from Vic when we told her the truth.
“I hear something, let’s check it out. If it turns out to be nothing, then you get out of your next assigned desk duty,” I said in an attempt to compromise. He sighed through the mask, but I could hear the tone in his breath. Before he could fight me on it again, I heard the noise again. I spun around and walked carefully along the wall towards the noise.
The clanking got more intense as we moved closer. I wanted to turn around and be smug, but I was more concerned with just getting the hell out of here. We finally found the room, but the door was practically welded shut from the fire's heat. Miller threw his weight against it, but it was of no use.
Not knowing what came over me, but the sound of that bang was going to haunt me if we couldn’t get in there. Bang, bang, bang… bang bang, bang… It continued after my first kick. When it started to become more staggered, something shifted inside me.
In a burst of adrenaline, I kicked open the door and nearly fell in the process. My hip was on fire, but it didn’t matter. I had found the source of the noise coming from the other side of the hospital bed. When I looked down, a puddle of blood was making a trail towards the bathroom. I saw a faint bloody hand banging the end of a metal rod against the floor. The arm was getting weaker with every clang. The once-powerful screams now faint whispers, speaking in a language I didn’t recognize.
Against his support, I detached my rope from Miller and ran over, instantly stunned by who I found. Never in a million years did I think I would come face-to-face with my biggest regret. Though now she sat pale, despite her tanned complexion. Her long chestnut-brown locks were secured in a dismantled bun. Holding a rumpled-up sheet with her blistered and bruised hand over her mouth to keep from inhaling the smoke, but I knew they were covering a set of perfect, dark, rosy lips.
I quickly looked over and assessed her, finding a shredded sheet being used as a tourniquet. It was tightly wrapped around her right leg, soaked in her own blood, giving a hint of the possible laceration of a vein or artery. She had ingenuity, I had to give her that, but damn, this was not looking good. She was hurt and bad.
When I looked at the piece of metal, it was half-stained in blood. It must have been what had impaled her. She’d taken it out to call for help, left out of options. Her eyelids fluttered open, and when they met mine, I was stuck. I don’t know how she was about to react, but then the rod fell out of her hand, and her head went limp.
My blood immediately went cold, "Oh no, you don’t. I am getting you out of here!"
I lifted her head, trying to have her regain consciousness. Those brown eyes found mine again, and she gave me a brief nod before her eyes tried to close again. That was the consent I needed to pick her up and get her to safety. Carefully, I put an arm under her legs and under her arm before I lifted. Her head fell weakly into my neck, and her grip was feeble.
I was not about to let her fall, not this time. I’ve got you. "Connect my rope, Miller, and lead the way," I instructed, adjusting my grip to ensure I had a full range of motion in my hips so I could navigate back through the mess of a hospital. My right hip was still on fire, but I was going to use it to push me through the last leg of this trip.
"Captain, let me carry her." I shook my head, semi-offended that he thought I couldn't, I'd bring it up later. He was getting too comfortable questioning my decisions, even though he knew better than to argue with my instructions. My glare must have given him a stern enough warning as he clicked my rope into place.
We moved through the ash-covered floor and towards the stairwell. Carefully moving down so as not to drop her. Her eyes open and shut in intervals. The soft voice peaked into my ear, and her breath sent shivers down my spine, "B positive." I looked at her through my mask, confused. "My blood type is B positive."
I nodded so she understood that I had heard her. The doctor slumped in my arms, turning into pure dead weight as she finally passed out when we managed to exit the building. I quickly made my way over to Hughes and Montgomerry, already rushing my way as I set her down, finally able to take off my helmet and mask.
Travis and Vic instantly got to work assessing her, "This is Dr. Carina DeLuca, her blood type is B positive. Right upper leg impalement with severe smoke inhalation and distributed burns of unknown degree. Lost consciousness about 30 seconds ago." I coughed after my brief, finally able to take actual air into my lungs after the marathon I'd just run.
"We got her captain! Transporting her straight to Seattle Pres," They shifted her onto a spinal board and transported her to a gurney. My urge was to follow them. "We got her, Cap!" Vic’s words reminded me of my place. I watched as they took her away, a similar feeling I had when Carina left the bar the night I rejected her offer to buy me a drink. I had watched her walk away, and I never regretted not accepting a drink as much as I did that night.
I put my helmet back on and ran back towards the rest of my team. Andy was coordinating in my absence, for which I thanked her, then proceeded to give her instructions. I appreciated that she maintained her professionalism in light of our estrangement since my unforeseen promotion—unforeseen by everyone on my team. Despite their beliefs, this was something I’d worked hard for and, until recently, found every encouragement to do so by people far more qualified to assess me than Andy. Who seemed almost appalled by the thought that I could be capable of being captain.
That wasn’t the concern right now. Now we had one job: to preserve the hospital and put out the fire. It took almost all night, but the fire eventually went out without catastrophically or irreparably destroying the hospital. The team celebrated on the way back, particularly Warren, who shared so many memories in that hospital.
He told us this was the hospital's second fire and that he was now anxious to see how Carina was doing because she was his friend's sister. "I'll come with you," I said, inserting myself into the conversation I had stayed out of until that point, because all I could think of was how close she was to dying.
"Are you sure, Cap? I can give you updates once I hear—" I cut him off, and it probably wasn't awfully reassuring, but he asked the question taunting me for months. Are you sure?
"Yes! I'm going. Once we get back, wipe down, and I'll have B shift do the engines. You have all earned a rest. Good work 19," I praised, going back to the tablet on my lap where I was inputting tonight's events. It was strange, every time I tried to recall a part of the occurrence, brown eyes filled my thoughts. They clouded my thoughts and scattered my recollection. It was the strangest thing ever.
"19!" Gibson chanted.
***
Seattle Presbyterian had me a little turned around. I can’t remember a time I’ve been past their ambulance bay, and it was more muted in color than Grey+Sloan. I know I am just reading too much into everything because I am slightly more nervous than I am hopefully showing.
My wet hair was tied back, and I had my bomber jacket hugged tight to my chest. I was fighting the limp as I walked through the hospital with Warren. Having broken down the door, I must have hurt my hip more than I thought. Thankfully, having a doctor under my purview had its perks, especially one married to the hospital's chief. The mention of Dr. Miranda Bailey's name was enough to grant us safe passage through the halls.
We passed room after room, but I kept my eyes in front of me. I just needed to make sure she was okay, and then I would join the team for day drinking as tradition had it. This was a means to an end, just to let me sleep at night knowing she was alive and well.
Warren picked up the pace as we rounded another corner, and I watched him open his arms to hug a tall, tanned man. He resembled the woman I couldn't seem to get out of my mind. Except he didn't have her chocolate-brown eyes, they were more of a grey-green and slightly lighter in complexion. It was the bone structure that was the dead giveaway.
"Andrew, this is Captain Maya Bishop, Capt, this is Dr. Andrew DeLuca. He's Carina's brother, and DeLuca, she carried Carina out of the hospital." he talked me up, and I shrank myself under his choice of words.
Andrew must have felt the breach of personal space was needed because the next thing I knew, he was hugging me. Overtaken by whatever emotion. The hug was warm, and I patted his back, trying to return the comforting gesture. "Thank you! Thank you, I don't know what I'd do without her,” he said, the vibration of his tenor rippling through my jacket.
"I was just doing my job, Dr. DeLuca. I'm just glad I could help get your sister out of that chaos. A security guard actually let me know she was stuck in a room. So Michael Jones is the real reason I was able to get to her," I explained, more than I should have. Andrew smiled at me warmly.
"I'm going to ask if she's up for visitors, okay? I'll be right back." I watched him disappear into the room, the blinds closed. Hearing words I didn't recognize. They got louder before they stopped completely, and he came back out of the room holding the back of his neck. "She's— she's not feeling too great at the moment. Maybe tomorrow would be better," he mentioned, trying to ease the blow of rejection.
In any other circumstance, I would have relented, but there was something in me that needed to get into that room and be certain with my own eyes that she was alive. Given that the last time I had seen her, she was more there than here. "I just want to say a quick hello. I won't be more than 3 seconds," I assured him, and I could feel Ben looking at me with that suspicious Dad eye.
It wasn’t going to change my mind. I was not leaving until I saw her. Until I saw her breathing with color in her face. Andrew nodded and went back into the room to ask her again. The more I stood there listening to them go back and forth, the more I fought myself from just going in and breaching her privacy.
Nonetheless, I waited for Andrew, no matter how much it made my head spin. I cracked my knuckles nervously, wondering why she was so against seeing me for three seconds. I know my first impression was bad, but I hoped the whole carrying her out of the building would let me at least get to her door.
Ben walked up to me, “I think it would just be better to come when she is more inclined to be a guest. She just went through a crazy surgery, Cap.” Of course, I knew he was right, but I needed to see her. As selfish as it was, I needed to see her.
Just as I thought Ben would start dragging me away, Andrew came back out. "She said, only 3 seconds."
Immediate relief filled me, and I smiled as calmly as I could before moving past them. I shuffled into the room, and there she was, lying in her hospital bed, right leg raised in a sling and protected by a brace. With bandages on both her hands and arms from the burns she must have sustained. Her long brown hair waved down the sides of her face, kept away by a head wrap covering the stitches. I wanted to ask whether she also had brain surgery, as the concussion had been very bad.
"You are using your 3 seconds to just stand there and stare at me?" I squirmed, turning to meet her eyes, already looking at me. I somehow felt naked, but simultaneously felt pulled into taking a step forward.
"Sorry. Hi, I'm—"
"I know who you are. You have the bluest eyes I've ever seen— not very forgettable, I'm afraid." She said the words so straightforwardly, it almost didn't sound like a compliment. She played with the green hospital blanket over her uninjured leg. “Did you come to check out the wreckage or just to see if I’m alive?”
"No— Yes! I mean, I came to make sure you were doing okay,” I wrung my hands, feeling shy. “And at the risk of wasting my last second, I was hoping to talk to you for a little longer, if that’s okay?" Was I begging? What about this woman was so drawing to me that I urged for more time. I was expecting something different, not that I was expecting her to thank me incessantly and ask for another chance, but I wasn't expecting this cold of a reaction.
"I don't see what else needs to be said. If you came here for a thank you, then— Grazie mille, Captain Bishop, for all your help, but I'd really like to get some rest, my head is pounding." She lay her head back on her pillow, spreading her thick brown hair. It had touches of auburn under the hospital light. My fingers itched to touch it.
"Are you sure?" The words left my mouth, and I wanted the floor to swallow me up to hide the blood that rushed to my face. My eyes shot open from where I had them shut tightly when I heard a giggle.
She was shaking her head back and forth, biting her lip to contain her laugh, "You are persistent. Yes, Captain Bishop, I am sure today. My body went through a lot, and I’m afraid I don’t have much energy for a longer conversation. You do understand, yes?"
It was obvious she still wasn’t happy with me, but she wasn’t exactly against the idea of talking to me again. “Tomorrow then?”
Carina chuckled, “Don’t feel under any obligation to do so.” I took the laugh as a win. If she didn’t want to see me again, she would say so.
"I'll come back then! What's your coffee order?" I nearly jumped from the excitement, but immediately kicked myself for appearing too eager.
"Shhh, lower your voice," she whispered and pointed to her head, but slightly grinning, "Concussion symptoms. It's a double espresso, but Maya, if you return with crap coffee, I will be sure."
I took that note in my head: double espresso, and it better be good, or your luck is over. "Heard— Oops, sorry!" I lowered my voice, but the sight of her smiling was enough to tell me she wasn't mad. "Get some rest, I'll see you after my next shift."
"Ciao, Captain, tell my annoying little brother I want those mozzarella sticks on the way out," she ordered, a pointed finger in the air.
It was asinine that she had a body like that and ate mozzarella sticks. I shifted a little at the memory of her body pressed against mine, and I turned to leave quickly. "Hey, DeLuca, she says she wants her Mozzarella Sticks,"
"STAT!" We heard from inside the room, followed by a breath 'ow,' and it made me smile. Then we all laughed as we all walked together towards the elevators on a mission.
I needed to make things right and apologize to Carina for the way I behaved at the bar. Trying to convince myself that this feeling was just because I didn't have her before. She wouldn't be easy, but I was never one to back down from a challenge.