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When she imagined it – and she’d imagined it since the academy – Maya always hoped death would come from smoke.
Fire was so destructive.
Before...
She’d been afraid of the pain. The burn.
After...
She didn’t want Carina to see her ravaged by flame. She didn’t want Carina standing in the morgue as they pulled back a sheet, revealing a monster to forever tarnish her memory of who Maya was. What she looked like. A face that was not a face.
You look familiar...
Maya felt dizzy, her heart rate accelerating as disbelief mingled with reality.
This was it. This was the end.
Not warm in her bed, next to her wife, their bodies frail with age. Carina whose hair would forever be long, who was thin and smaller somehow, their hands intertwined between them. Hands Maya did not recognize except for the rings – the gold rings – hands weathered, arthritic, but still theirs.
Intertwined.
Intertwined.
The fire was hot and moving quickly.
It would take her hair. Her ears. Her nose.
Her eyes.
You look familiar...
Maya blinked, trying to see Andy through the haze.
“So, tell me,” Carina said, leaning back against the couch cushions. “Are you ever going to kiss me, Maya Bishop?”
Maya raised an eyebrow, not overly surprised by Carina’s boldness, but surprised by her own reaction. She was blushing, she felt butterflies. This wasn’t like her at all. Usually she was all brash confidence. Yet there was something about Carina DeLuca that turned her shy.
She still didn’t know why she hadn’t kissed Carina that first night at Joe’s. She’d certainly wanted to kiss her. They’d spent days texting back and forth. The texts had eventually turned into FaceTime calls and Maya’s eyes constantly strayed to Carina’s lips, wondering, fantasizing...
In the seconds after Pru’s birth, Maya realized that there was nothing she wanted more than to kiss Carina DeLuca. So she’d called with an invitation. And now Carina DeLuca was sitting on her couch, nursing a glass of wine, the day and evening stretching before them full of very obvious intention.
Blushing? Butterflies?
What the hell was happening?
Maya placed her own glass on the coffee table and smirked, trying desperately to hide her nerves. She swallowed hard, leaning closer, their noses brushing as Maya paused, determined to take back control.
“Do you want me to kiss you, Dr. DeLuca?” She asked, clocking the hitch in Carina’s breathing.
“Yes,” Carina said, tilting her head. “And not just on the lips.”
Maya whimpered and then cursed herself for doing it because Carina’s smirk was all victory. Not one to lose gracefully, Maya took Carina’s face in her hands, her eyes already closed.
The kiss started slowly. Soft. An exploratory press of lips against lips. Carina’s mouth was warm, her body was warm, everything about her was warm. Her eyes. Her smile. Her heart.
Maya traced Carina’s bottom lip with her tongue, a question, and then Carina surged forward, her hand curling behind Maya’s head, and when Carina’s tongue met hers, Maya knew something was wrong.
She’d never felt this way before.
A kiss was a kiss. She’d had good kisses. She’d had bad kisses. She’d had chaste, teasing kisses. She’d had sloppy, messy kisses.
She’d had kisses that turned her on.
She’d had kisses that turned her off.
But kissing Carina made her stomach bottom out.
She felt like she’d waited to kiss Carina all her life. She felt like if she stopped kissing Carina, the sun would explode. The very thought of not kissing Carina terrified her.
Maya’s heart pounded uncomfortably in her chest as she licked Carina’s tongue, as their mouths sealed, as her hands grabbed Carina’s face with sharp fingers.
Kissing Carina felt so good. It felt better than anything had ever felt before. She didn’t understand what was happening, she didn’t know why she couldn’t get her shit together and pull away, tease, pretend like her whole life hadn’t just inexplicably changed in ways she didn’t understand.
Maya dropped her hands, curling them beneath Carina’s thighs and with a strong tug, she pulled Carina into her lap, not missing the moan or the way Carina’s hand drifted to her bicep, squeezing the muscle.
Noted...
“Is this okay?” Maya whispered, setting her hands on Carina’s ass.
Carina smiled, leaning back just enough to see Maya’s eyes.
“It is,” she said. “Thank you for asking.”
Maya nodded, tightening her grip, watching as Carina’s jaw dropped just a little.
“You’re really strong,” Carina breathed.
Maya smirked now, flexing under Carina’s palms. “I am.”
“You have a bed, I assume?”
“I do. Would you like to see it?”
“I’d like to see a lot of things.”
The path to Maya’s bedroom was all grasping hands and needy mouths. They giggled against each other, Maya’s hands on Carina’s hips as she half led, half dragged her through the doorway. She was about to toss Carina on the bed when a firm hand on her chest made her collapse onto the mattress, panting as Carina still stood before her, cheeks red, chest...
Maya watched as one by one, Carina undid the buttons on her blouse revealing something satin, floral print, sheer. Her jaw dropped the more skin was revealed. Next came Carina’s trousers – legs long and lean, a matching set, more satin, more florals, the overall effect so alluring that Maya forgot words.
Her mind was static, all thoughts gone because every curve was perfection, every dip, every freckle, every single part of the woman in front of her was magnificent. And again, she wondered what the hell was happening. Where did calm, in-control, take-charge Maya go? Where was she hiding?
“Do you know CPR?” Maya managed to say, her eyes on Carina’s breasts, hidden by the lingerie but so tantalizing. She wanted to see them, she wanted to know what colour Carina’s nipples were, what shape.
Carina frowned. “What?”
What Maya wanted even more was hidden by satin panties. The thought of it...the thought of Carina’s taste, her smell. The realization that soon, so soon, Maya would know. Maya would touch...
“Because you just took my breath away,” Maya said, a slow smile growing on her face as she bit her lip.
Carina blinked and then grabbed her shirt from the floor, groaning as she shook her head.
“On second thought,” she giggled, pretending to make for the door, but Maya was up before she even took a step.
She pressed herself to Carina’s back, one hand settling low on Carina’s abdomen, just below her navel.
“I’m not letting you go,” she whispered, nibbling Carina’s ear lobe.
Carina hummed, turning in her arms, her hands playing with the hem of Maya’s t-shirt.
“Promise?” She purred, so beautiful that Maya wondered for a moment if she was real.
“Promise.”
There was no escape. The flames formed a wall around her, a ceiling, a cathedral of fire that swallowed the sky, the ground.
Maya looked desperately to her left. To her right. Hoping some miraculous exit would present itself. Instead, all she could see was piercing yellow and orange encroaching, eating, burning.
“Bishop!”
Andy’s voice was shrill, she looked terrified, and Maya understood. Because it would be terrifying to watch your best friend die. To watch your best friend burn alive.
What would she tell Carina?
Would she tell her that Maya had been brave?
And what would Carina do?
Would she cry? Would she scream?
Who would hold her after?
Who would hold her?
You look familiar...
Maya pressed her hand to her chest, her eyes stinging from smoke, from tears.
She imagined Carina’s face, her chin quivering – the way she’d furiously shake her head in denial, one finger raised towards Andy – one accusatory finger.
A closed casket draped in the American flag.
The bell.
And Carina alone with no one to hold her because no one ever held her. That was Maya’s job. Maya was the first. She was supposed to be the last.
“Andy,” Maya called out, sweat dripping into her eyes. “Tell Carina...”
“No! You’re going to tell her yourself, okay? I’m getting you out of here!”
“Andy...”
Despite Carina’s assurances that what they had belonged only to them, Maya still felt uneasy with Gabriella sleeping in their guestroom.
She knew she was being ridiculous. Immature, even.
Carina had spent the better part of her night doing a favour for Jack, of all people, and here Maya was jealous that the woman across the hall had seen Carina naked.
Had kissed her.
Touched her.
Tasted...
Maya growled, inwardly frustrated with her inability to relax.
She trusted Carina more than anything and she could tell that Gabriella was just pulling the classic best friend bit – needling Maya here and there like it was her job. And maybe it was. With Andrew gone, Carina needed someone on her team to make sure Maya was worthy, to warn her about causing Carina hurt or pain.
Except sometimes Maya didn’t feel worthy. She’d caused Carina enough hurt and pain to last a lifetime. Yet Carina still insisted that they were fantastic together. Maya wanted to believe it – she wanted to see them like Carina saw them.
Sometimes all she saw was her own shortcomings. Was her own failure.
Gabriella was so classy. She was fancy like Carina was fancy. She spoke multiple languages and she wore expensive jewellery and everything about her was so refined, so manicured.
She was the opposite of Maya. Most of Carina’s friends were the opposite of Maya.
Carina brought out something insecure in Maya. She made her feel so young, she made her feel like that shy girl on the track team with a first crush. She made her feel so afraid to lose that Maya often found herself breathless at the thought of messing this up.
Like those qualifying races for the Olympics. The ones where she had to set a certain time to beat a record. The days when Lane would look into her eyes, his voice low, threatening.
“You can’t lose.”
Maya had never experienced that particular feeling in the context of a relationship before. She always felt so confident, so in control. Dating and sex were sport and she won gold every single time.
Now, for the first time since those days on the track, Maya had something to lose. Something big. Something that would destroy her if it slipped through her fingers. Again...
A muffled sob tore Maya from her worries, Carina’s whimpering hiccups and thrashing legs enough to tell Maya that her dreams were far from peaceful. Maya propped herself up on one elbow, setting her hand on Carina’s shoulder, shaking gently.
“Carina,” she whispered, wishing she could see Carina’s face. Carina slept with her back to Maya, the little spoon.
There was no response. Only more whimpering.
Whimpering that sounded like a name.
Andrea
“Carina,” Maya tried again, shaking a little harder. “Wake up, Babe. You’re dreaming. It’s just a dream, Carina. Just a dream...”
There was a sharp gasp and then Carina startled, sitting up with no warning.
“Cazzo,” Carina hissed, panting, one hand pressed to her chest.
Maya sat up too and when she touched Carina’s shoulder again, she found it damp with sweat.
“Hey,” Maya said. “You’re okay. Deep breaths.”
She tucked a long strand of hair behind Carina’s ear, trying to see her face.
Carina was still shaking, but she managed to snag Maya’s hand, her grip strong, as if she was trying to keep herself from slipping back into the dream world.
“Sorry,” she whispered, finally turning.
“Carina...”
“Sorry, I’m...”
She was a mess. Sweaty and teary, so the opposite of her usual composed self.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Maya asked, struggling to navigate Carina’s grief.
Since the day Maya took her to scream, Carina had been sleeping through the night again. She smiled now, she even laughed occasionally. Tonight as they watched Jack and Marcus, Maya had seen the first glimpses of the old Carina, the Carina from before Andrew’s death. She didn’t look as gaunt, as haunted.
Now she looked ill.
Because grief wasn’t linear. Maya had spent hours reading about it, trying to find some way to comfort Carina who’d spent nearly a week on the kitchen floor refusing any touch. There was a very good chance she’d push Maya away, claiming “too soft,” needing space.
Or maybe she’d go to Gabriella? Maybe Gabriella could provide...
“Sorry,” Carina said again, in tears. “I woke you up and...this is disgusting...”
She plucked at her tank top, helpless, almost confused.
“You don’t have to be sorry,” Maya said, taking a risk and stroking Carina’s cheek. “Never about this, okay?”
“I woke you up.”
“It’s okay, my love. It’s always okay.”
“I thought it was blood. I...I slipped in it and it was blood and he’s...he’s gone. He’s dead.”
Maya had to stop herself from shuddering. She knew what Carina had seen in her dream. She knew because she’d seen it in reality, that horrible moment they’d walked back into Andrew’s hospital room only to find carnage.
Carina seemed still caught in the space between awake and asleep, scared and broken and unable to stop seeing her brother’s blood.
“Hey,” Maya moved slowly, crawling off the bed so she could crouch in front of Carina on the floor and take her hands. “Let’s go get cleaned up. How does that sound?”
Carina’s bottom lip wobbled, but she didn’t pull away. Instead she leaned in as Maya wrapped one arm around her back and the other beneath her knees, lifting her from the bed. Usually Carina would laugh when Maya picked her up, laugh and then bite her lip and shoot Maya a look that said she was about to get very lucky.
Now, she held on tight, quiet and frail as Maya walked into the guest bathroom. She placed Carina on the closed toilet seat and then turned to the tub, praying the sound wouldn’t wake Gabriella.
“Arms up,” Maya instructed, standing in front of Carina, hoping the bath would fill quickly.
Carina obeyed, almost childlike in her movements. She let Maya strip off her tank top and set both hands on Maya’s shoulders as she stood, letting Maya push her PJ bottoms down her legs.
“We’re going to get you all clean,” Maya said, circling Carina in her arms as they waited for the water, holding her close to ward off the chill. To ward off the ghosts too.
Once the bath was ready, Maya helped Carina climb in, guiding her with calm, quiet words. She sat down on the mat, rising to her knees so she could gather Carina’s hair and quickly tie it into a bun. Carina watched, sullen as Maya soaked a loofa and reached for Carina’s body wash, the extra bottle likely left for Gabriella.
Maya got to work scrubbing Carina’s back, washing away her dream. The sweat. The imagined blood. She hated the thought of it, the image of the stain against Carina’s tanned skin, so Maya was diligent, making sure to clean Carina chest, between her breasts, her arms. She used a cloth to wipe Carina’s face, her concentration so absolute that she didn’t notice Carina’s lips lift in the corner until Carina raised her hand and circled Maya’s wrist.
“Thank you,” she said, a little bashful. “I have been such a mess and I know none of this is sexy and...”
“Babe, you don’t need to thank me. I know I’m not exactly an expert on relationships, but I’m pretty sure this is part of my job description. And even if it’s not, I want it to be. I like taking care of you.”
“But you have to work tomorrow and I have kept you up with all this. You should go to bed, Bambina. I can get Gabri to sit up with me and cry.”
Maya frowned, trying not to feel hurt.
“Oh,” she whispered, letting the cloth drop in the water. “Do you want me to get her?”
Carina was frowning too. “I want you, Maya. But that’s selfish of me because you need to be up so early. So if you need to go to sleep, I understand.”
For the first time since Gabriella waltzed through her door, Maya no longer felt jealous. She no longer felt worry or self-doubt. She finally understood everything and it nearly shocked her.
Carina wanted her. Carina needed her.
No one had ever cared for Carina before and Carina didn’t quite know how to trust that this was really happening. That she finally had a person who was just for her. That she didn’t need to self-sooth or suffer in silence.
Different people provided different things in life.
It’s why Maya had gone to Jack’s apartment earlier that day. He was equally awkward in relationships, but he was the guy you called in the middle of the night when you’d had too much to drink and the world felt like it was ending. Andy was the one you called to help hide the body.
Maya thought about Vic and Travis, their close friendship, but also their difficult families. She thought about the support provided by parents versus the support provided by friends versus the support provided by intimate partners.
By the person you loved.
She’d never had that before. Neither had Carina.
Carina was so used to not having it that she likely subconsciously had no idea how to accept Maya’s help.
“I’m staying here with you,” Maya said, linking their fingers. “I don’t care about being tired tomorrow. All that matters to me is that you’re okay.”
Carina looked so relieved. Her tears were back, but Maya suspected they weren’t for Andrew now.
“I don’t know how to be in this world without him,” Carina confessed, sniffling. “I was older than him. I was supposed to be first and now...he is just gone. And I am still here.”
Maya kissed Carina’s forehead, slowly scooping water into her hand and letting it drip down Carina’s shoulders, wanting her to stay warm. There was no answer to Carina’s question. There was no way to tell her that eventually, she would feel better because it likely wasn’t true. Maya just wished there was some way to convey to Carina that despite her loss, there was still life too. So much life.
“You know, technically, I’ve never been in this world without you,” Maya said, smiling a little to herself.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I’m a few years younger than you. So when I was born, you were already here. I’ve never existed without you existing too.”
“I like that,” Carina said, smiling.
“I can’t replace Andrew, I...I would never want to. Or try to. But you’re not alone, Carina. Not while I’m here. And I’m going to be here for as long as you’ll let me be here.”
Carina bumped their noses, her hand wet against Maya’s cheek.
“I love you,” she said. “The words don’t seem like enough. I love you, Maya.”
What an extraordinary thing to be loved by Carina DeLuca. What a singular, miracle.
Maya curved her hand around the back of Carina’s head. “I love you.”
When the water started to cool, Maya helped Carina stand and then wrapped her in a big fluffy towel. She lifted Carina into her arms again, relieved that this time, Carina was less sullen. The tears had stopped.
In the privacy of their bedroom, Maya quickly changed the soiled sheets while Carina stepped into the ensuite and soon they were back under the covers. Both calm. Both comfortable.
“Will you?” Carina whispered, tugging gently on Maya’s shirt.
Carina was naked, insisting that Gabriella would knock if she needed something, but Maya wasn’t entirely convinced that was true. Yet, she couldn’t deny Carina anything, so she peeled off her t-shirt and lay back. Carina practically crawled on top of her, her face pressed into Maya’s neck, her thigh hitched over Maya’s thighs.
It was her favourite way to sleep. The first time she’d done it, Maya had nearly crawled out of her skin, surprised by the intensity of Carina’s hold on her, by the contact. Seconds later, she’d realized that she’d never felt more peaceful in her life. She’d never felt safer.
“I love when you sleep like this,” she confessed, stroking Carina’s hair.
They hadn’t been intimate since Andrew’s death, nor did Maya expect Carina to be anywhere near ready, but the feel of her skin, of her breasts, her heat against Maya’s hip...it was just as special. Just as healing.
“You do?” Carina whispered, her lips grazing Maya’s throat. “It’s not too much?”
“Never.”
Never.
Would Carina feel it when Maya’s heart stopped? When her lungs collapsed?
Would she feel it when Maya burned?
If Maya reached out with her mind, if she focused on Carina’s name, on Carina’s face, on her eyes, on her voice, would Carina hear her?
See her?
Would she smell the sweat and fear?
The fire grew, spreading so quickly that Maya was afraid to blink. She was afraid to breathe.
Bambina...
Carina’s fingers in her hair, soothing, stroking. Carina’s lips against her ear, Carina with her, Carina keeping her safe, Carina, Carina, Carina...
“Bishop!”
Andy’s voice cackled from Maya’s radio, which was a comfort because she could no longer see Andy through the wave of flames. Her best friend was blurry, yellow on yellow. Far away.
Maya grabbed her radio with one hand, a life-line. At least she wouldn’t be totally alone.
“Andy, there’s no way out!” Maya gasped, panic rising.
“We’re working on it, Bishop. I’m not leaving you. We’re going to get you out and back to Carina and Liam before you know it, okay?”
Liam.
Maya keeled over, a sob bursting from her throat.
Liam.
He would forget her. She would be a photograph. She would be his Mamma’s tears. She would be a story.
Carina would show him the medal. She’d take a picture of him wearing her helmet. She’d take him to 19’s spaghetti dinner and point at her picture next to Miller’s and say that was your mom.
And it wasn’t fair. It was so unfair.
She’d only been his mom for a few months. Months. A collection of days, weeks. She wanted to be his mom for the rest of her life.
And she would be. She just didn’t expect her life to end now. She didn’t expect that the rest would be just this.
You look familiar...
“Andy,” Maya sputtered, coughing, her lungs straining as smoke filled her world.
“Maya, I’m here. Hold on. We’re coming. I promise, we’re coming.”
“Teach him to roll hoses. Let him go down the pole, but make sure he doesn’t fall, okay? You have to catch him because I...I can’t, so...”
“No! Maya, listen to me...”
“Tell Carina...”
“Don’t you dare, Maya Bishop! I’m not telling her a goddamn thing, do you hear me?”
“Andy...”
Maya parked in front of Dana and Peggy’s house, unable to shake her uneasiness. The air smelled like smoke, a constant reminder of the fire. Except, somehow, Carina was the one closer to the danger while she was about to drive in the opposite direction towards Station 19. There was every chance she’d end up closer to Carina in a few hours, but she really didn’t like the idea of her possibly pregnant wife exposed to all that ash.
She glanced in the rear-view mirror, worried to find Liam red-faced with a wobbly bottom lip.
“Hey,” she cooed as she stepped out of the car and opened the back door. Maya leaned in, unbuckling the car seat and then lifting Liam to her chest. He was sniffly, his little hands immediately grabbing at her shirt and her shoulder.
“What’s going on, Probie?” She asked, brushing her lips over his temple.
He whimpered, squirming against her until his tiny face was pressed to her neck.
“Are you worried about Mamma?” Maya whispered, rubbing his back. She bounced a little, trying to soothe him.
“I’m worried about her too,” Maya said, “but we have to be brave, right Liam? La mamma torna. La mamma torna.”
She took Liam’s little hand, holding on tight.
Her shift was starting in ten minutes and the drive would be a good fifteen, except her son needed her. He was afraid, or sad, or maybe he just wanted a hug. And nothing was more important in the world.
“You need another minute?” She asked, sitting on the backseat, rubbing the sweetest cheek with her thumb. “That’s okay, Liam. I do too.”
If this was it, if this was the very end, Maya would die going to her grave filled with a strange mix of fury and gratitutde.
She would die Lieutenant Maya Bishop of the Seattle Fire Department.
Wife of Carina DeLuca.
Mother of Liam, soon to be DeLuca-Bishop.
Mother of...maybe...mother of...
Would it be a boy or a girl? Would it have her eyes? Would Carina look at their baby every day and see a constant reminder of all that was lost?
And that’s where the fury came.
She wasn’t done yet. There was so much more she wanted, so much more.
Carina’s fingers in her hair. Carina’s body on top of hers, the weight of her, from that morning.
Had it really been that morning?
“Ti amo, Bella,” Carina whispered as Maya came down from her orgasm. “You did so good, amore mio. So good for me.”
The weight of her. The curve of Carina’s back beneath Maya’s palm. The tickle of her hair. The words she spoke for Maya because she knew Maya liked to hear them. Needed to hear them.
Maya felt like a child. She wanted her wife. She didn’t want to die. She didn’t want to burn here alone. She wanted her wife. She wanted Carina. She wanted Carina.
She didn’t want to die.
Not here. Not like this.
She wanted...
She wanted...
I'm sorry, my love, I'm so sorry...
Maya closed her eyes, pushing down her panic. Pushing down her devastation.
She imagined Carina’s face because it was the last thing she wanted to see.
And then she clicked on her radio, turning once more to Andy. To the flames.
“Herrera,” she said, unable to keep her voice from trembling. “I’m scared. I..I don’t think I’m getting out of here.”
You look familiar...