Chapter Text
The next morning Maya stood in front of the bathroom mirror looking into her own helpless eyes. She hated what she saw. She wished that she could see what Carina saw in her. The way her wife looked at her made her feel like everything would be okay, even if it was just for a moment.
But her mind said otherwise. Her mind was filled with self-doubt and self-loathing. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was broken beyond repair, that the trauma had irreversibly damaged her. Maya's hands trembled as she reached for her pain medication, hoping that it would provide some relief from the physical pain at the very least.
She preferred the physical pain. She knew how to cope with it and how long it would take to go away. But the emotional pain, the darkness that consumed her, was a different story. It was unpredictable, suffocating, and seemed to have no end in sight. Maya felt like she was drowning in it, unable to find a way out.
Maybe this psychologist would be helpful. Diane had been. She had to try to be positive. The other options were not something she could afford to think about. Not again.
“Bambina, are you ready?” Carina called as she knocked on the door.
Maya took a deep breath, trying to compose herself before opening the door. She didn't want Carina to see the turmoil inside her, the darkness that threatened to consume her every thought. She put on a brave face and opened the door, forcing a smile.
"Yeah, I'm ready," Maya replied, her voice sounding more confident than she felt.
Together with Lucia they made their way to Carina’s Porsche. Thankfully, it appeared that the media had backed off as they made it to the vehicle without being stopped. That gave Maya a small bit of comfort.
Twenty minutes later they were arriving at the psychologists office. When Carina parked they decided to stay in the car for a few minutes while Maya collected her thoughts.
She knew what therapy was like with Diane, especially that first session she had so long ago. She remembered how exhausted she felt after. Now she felt like this was going to be so much worse.
Maya was terrified to relive her captivity with someone new. She had repeated it only once so far, to Sanders and Carina, and that seemed like something she had to do at the time. She had a reason to tell it: to capture Sanchez which translated into protecting her family. Since they were safe now with Sanchez locked up, speaking it out loud again seemed daunting.
“Do you want me to go in with you?” Carina asked as the hour approached for Maya to head inside.
Maya shook her head. “No, it’s okay. Lucia is asleep and I don’t want to disrupt her.”
Carina nodded understandingly, though her concern still lingered. “I’m just going down the street to the grocery store while you’re in there. I’ll be back by the time you’re out.”
“Thank you,” Maya responded meekly. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Bambina.”
With a final kiss and promise that she will be here when she gets out, Carina left as Maya walked into the office where she approached the receptionist's desk and checked in.
Maya took a seat in the waiting area. The room felt suffocating, filled with the words she was about to share. She glanced around, trying to distract herself from the anxiety that threatened to consume her. She closed her eyes, taking deep breaths in an attempt to ground herself.
Finally, her name was called, and Maya stood up, her legs feeling weak beneath her. She followed the psychologist into a small, cozy office, adorned with calming colors and soft lighting. The psychologist, Dr. Dylan, greeted her with a warm smile.
"Good morning, Maya," Dr. Dylan said kindly. "Please have a seat. How are you feeling today?"
“I’m feeling okay,” she lied. It was just how she had been responding lately, even though she knew it wasn’t true. It had not been true for a long time.
Dr. Dylan studied Maya's face for a moment, sensing the underlying tension beneath her words. "Maya, it's okay to not be okay," she said gently. "I’ve spoken to Agent Sanders. I know some of what you have been through. So, I’m going to ask again. How are you?"
Maya hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to answer. She had become so accustomed to putting on a brave face, pretending that everything was okay so everyone around her would be okay.
But sitting in that office, with Dr. Dylan's kind eyes looking at her, Maya felt a small bit of hope. Maybe, just maybe, she could allow herself to be vulnerable, to let someone in and share the weight of her pain.
"I...I'm not okay," Maya finally admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. Tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill over. "I feel broken, like I'll never be whole again."
Dr. Dylan nodded empathetically. "It's completely normal to feel that way after experiencing trauma," she reassured Maya. "But I want you to know that healing is possible. It may not be easy, and it may take time. So, tell me what brings you here to me?”
“You said you spoke to Sanders…”
“I did. But I want to hear your side. I want to hear what you went through, not second hand information.”
“I-I was kidnapped nine months ago. They, uh, they forced me to commit arsons across the country. I was beaten and abused. My family was threatened and used against me so I wouldn’t fight back. Everyone thought I was dead until an undercover agent helped me escape.”
Dr. Dylan listened attentively. “That certainly seems like a lot for anyone to go through.”
“It’s not even all of it,” Maya whispered. “I missed the birth of my daughter. I wasn’t there for my wife during the good times or the bad. My time with Sanchez…it was...it was hell. I felt like I lost myself in that darkness, like I was no longer in control of my own life. But now, even though I'm safe now, I can't escape the memories. They haunt me every day, and I can't shake the feeling that I'm still trapped in that nightmare. And now I’m spreading that darkness to my wife and daughter.”
Dr. Dylan leaned forward. "Maya, I want you to know that what you're feeling is completely understandable. Trauma has a way of affecting every aspect of our lives, and it's not your fault. You didn't choose to go through this, and it's not your responsibility to protect your wife and daughter from the darkness you're experiencing. They love you and want to support you through this."
Maya nodded, tears streaming down her face. "I know they love me, but I can't help but feel like I'm burdening them with my pain."
Dr. Dylan reached out and handed Maya a tissue. "It's common for survivors of trauma to feel that way. But you have to remember, love is not a burden. And I doubt very much that your wife thinks of it like that.”
Maya took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "I just...I don't know how to move forward. How to let go of everything and find some semblance of normalcy again. Every time I close my eyes, every time my wife touches me, I’m just reminded of everything.”
"Healing takes time, Maya. It's a process, and it's different for everyone. I think what you went through was incredibly traumatic and it makes sense that you are still having trouble readjusting. There’s nothing wrong with that. It's important to remember that there are strategies and therapies that can help you navigate through this.”
“I just don't know where to start."
Dr. Dylan smiled reassuringly. "We'll start by creating a safe space for you to explore your emotions and experiences. Together, we'll work on developing coping mechanisms and strategies to manage your fears. It won't be easy, and at times it may get hard, but we can get you through this."
Maya nodded, feeling a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, with Dr. Dylan's guidance, she could find a way to navigate through the darkness and reclaim her life.
"Thank you," Maya whispered. "I'm willing to try. I want to heal for Carina and Lucia. They deserve it.”
“But also for you, Maya. It all starts with you.”
A knock at the door disrupted the doctor.
“I’m sorry to intrude,” said the receptionist, “but there’s a situation out here.”
The doctor looked confused for a moment but politely apologized and excused herself from the blonde as she followed the receptionist out.
Maya sat in the office, her heart pounding with worry. She wondered what could be happening outside that required the doctor's attention. Her mind raced with worst-case scenarios, fearing that something terrible had occurred.
Minutes passed, and the silence in the room only heightened Maya's anxiety. She desperately wanted to know what was going on, but she also didn't want to intrude or make the situation worse. She felt torn between staying put and going out to investigate.
Finally, the door swung open, and but instead of the doctor she was met by someone she felt like she had seen before.
“You’re Maya Bishop?” The man asked.
Maya didn’t answer. She sat there confused, eyes wide with surprise.
“What was it like living in captivity, having everyone think you were dead while you were being tortured?” He questioned. It was then that she realized he was from the media. She had seen him waiting outside of the hospital when she was released.
Panic surged through her veins, and she felt her body freeze in fear. The memories of her captivity flooded back, and she could feel the darkness closing in on her.
"I...I can't," Maya stammered, her voice barely audible. "Please, just leave me alone."
The reporter smirked, clearly enjoying the discomfort he was causing thinking he would get something good. "Come on, Maya, the public deserves to know what you went through. It's a compelling story, don't you think?"
Maya's hands trembled as she clutched the armrests of the chair. She felt trapped, cornered by the prying eyes and invasive questions. She desperately wanted to escape, to find safety away from the media circus that had surrounded her life.
"Please," Maya pleaded as she stood up and began to race out of the room.
Maya's heart pounded in her chest as she sprinted down the hallway, desperate to escape the reporter's relentless pursuit. She could hear his footsteps behind her, his voice echoing through the corridor as he continued to shout questions at her.
Tears streamed down Maya's face as she pushed open the emergency exit door, the cool air hitting her skin as she stepped outside. She glanced around, searching for a place to hide, to find peace from the chaos that had consumed her life.
What she was met with instead was a slew of different reporters, all waiting for her. Maya's heart dropped as she realized there was no escape. The reporters closed in on her, their cameras flashing and microphones thrust in her face. Panic overwhelmed her, and she felt her body go numb.
"Maya, can you tell us about your time in captivity?"
"How did you manage to escape?"
"Are you seeking justice for what you went through?"
“How is your family coping with learning you were alive this whole time?”
The questions bombarded her from all directions, each one reopening wounds she had been desperately trying to heal. Maya's mind raced, searching for a way to protect herself, to shield herself from the prying eyes and invasive questions. But there was nothing she could do. She was surrounded.
But then, a familiar voice cut through the chaotic orchestra. It was Carina, pushing her way through the crowd, her eyes filled with anger.
"Back off!" Carina shouted, her voice commanding and fierce. "Get away from her!"
The reporters hesitated for a moment, taken aback by Carina's sudden appearance and harsh tone. She reached down for Maya, who barely registered her savior.
Carina pulled Maya close, shielding her from the reporters' prying eyes. She wrapped her arms protectively around Maya, creating a barrier between her and the mess surrounding them as she led them through the crowd.
Carina's grip on Maya was firm yet gentle, guiding her through the sea of reporters. As they made their way through the crowd, Carina's voice rang out, forceful and commanding. "No more questions! You’re going to back the fuck off and leave her be!"
The reporters seemed momentarily stunned by Carina's assertiveness, their cameras and microphones lowering briefly, giving the wives a chance to get away.
Carina led Maya to her waiting car, where Vic waited in the drivers with Lucia in the back. The car door closed, enveloping them in a momentary bubble of safety.
“Maya? Bambina, can you hear me?” Carina asked as she noticed the blank stare that remained on her wife’s face.
Maya’s face, however, showed no sign of changing. Wherever she was, it was not with them.