Work Text:
It starts with the ringing in her ears.
The sensation drifts in and out periodically, like an itch she can't quite scratch away. It's nothing she isn't used to, really. Ever since the garage incident, Maya's dealt with regular fluctuations in her hearing. It's nothing severe, and it doesn't affect her on most calls, but she knows she has to monitor it. Some days are better than others, but today her head feels like it's about to explode. She's not sure if it's stress, the ringing, a lack of sleep, or a combination of all three, but she forces herself out of bed anyways. She'll push through, just like she always does. Work gives her something to distract herself with, something to focus on and throw herself into when she doesn't have all the answers.
Maya does know one thing, though: she needs to run. She can't leave the station while she's still working, so she'll go to the gym. Nobody's ever in there this early, anyways.
Her plan is halted by the sound of the alarms, requesting the ladder, engine, and aid car. The brief moment of silence Maya had is quickly swept away by the sounds of her team rushing to get dressed and into the barn. She follows. She'll work out later, after her shift is over.
The chaos is familiar, something she can count on. As she puts on her turnouts, she can vaguely hear Miller and Hughes bickering about breakfast foods while Herrera and Gibson finish final preparations. Maya gets into the passenger's side of the ladder next to Montgomery.
As he drives to the scene, Maya finds herself becoming increasingly restless, as she so often is. She'd like to blame it on adrenaline, and maybe some of it is, but she knows it's just pent-up energy she hasn't yet had the opportunity to release. She considers going for a mental run, something she often does to stop herself from getting overly worked-up, but she's too alert, her head is too loud, and she doesn't have the time. She'll just have to deal with it.
Maya quickly realizes she's been bouncing her leg this entire time, tapping her fingers like she's anticipating something bad. But she's snapped out of her thoughts by a voice from right beside her. Travis.
"-aptain. Maya. Bishop!" She must not have caught him saying her name at first, must have gotten distracted.
"Yeah, what?" She says, trying to sound attentive, certainly not annoyed, guilty, or pressured, but judging by his response, she's not sure how well she succeeded in doing so.
"I was just asking if you're okay. You seem kind of out of it," he says.
Maya feels bad for her minor snap at him now. He was just checking in. She's his captain, after all. The last thing her team needs is for her to be distracted in the field, Montgomery least of all. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks," she responds, softening her tone this time. He nods.
After that exchange, Maya forces herself to stay put for the rest of the ride and pay attention to what's ahead of her. It's dumb, really. She knows her friends don't mind her restlessness, as long as she isn't putting herself or anyone else in danger. She knows they aren't bothered by her fidgeting. Gibson and Hughes tease her about it sometimes, but they all know it helps her concentrate. Still, the voice in the back of her head reminds her of what she's always telling herself: Sit still. Act normal. Focus. Eyes forward.
She wonders if her father ever used it to his advantage. He'd always wanted a gold medal child, and he was going to get one either way, but Maya was an energetic kid. Yeah, he'd scold her sometimes for being hyper, for the mood swings, for the impulsivity, but he'd managed to take her attention (or lack thereof) and channel it all into running. But it surely had to have helped to have a student who was constantly ready to put 110% effort into everything she did.
Once they reach the scene, the rest of the world disappears. Now that she's in her element, Maya can just do her job and push everything else to the back of her mind. She can ignore the tightness in her chest and the ringing in her ears for a little while.
It ended up being a standard call. An apartment fire, but Maya delegated roles easily: evacuation, aid, attack, and more. No fatalities, just some injuries that were treated on site, some taken to Grey-Sloan for further help.
As soon as it's done, as soon as the rush is gone, the discomfort starts to take over Maya again. She continues to pace around outside for a bit before getting back in the truck. The team isn't very loud, but with everything else going on inside Maya's head, they might as well be. She stays silent, which isn't a surprise to anyone, but it means she has to think. Think about things she doesn't want to, when all she really wants is to work, or exercise, or sleep.
She doesn't understand. It was a good call. Everyone's alright. She didn't make any life-ending decisions today.
So why is the only thing she can feel right now her clothes sticking to her body? Maya's more than used to sweating through her uniform, especially on a hot day with a big fire like this one. But it's like every small thing that usually only bothers her a little bit has intensified in addition to how bad she's already feeling, and she can't think about anything else. She feels like her heart is beating through her chest with a strong urge to get out, and the only thing keeping her from crumbling right here and now in front of everybody else is her need to preserve her dignity.
The rest of the short ride back is a bit of a blur that Maya can't say she was fully present for. She spends it trying to get herself to relax and seem normal, answering "fine" when asked again if she's okay. By the time they pull into the barn, she's drained and her head is still pounding, but she thinks she can keep it together for the last hour and a half of her shift.
She doesn't bother changing her clothes just yet, knowing it would be more trouble than it's worth to have to put them back on in the event that there's another call. Instead, she unbuttons her uniform shirt, simultaneously thankful and annoyed that she chose to wear an extra layer today, and follows the rest of the team to the beanery.
Maya doesn't get herself any food like the rest of her friends do. She knows that she won't be able to eat anything right now even if she tries and that she'll hate herself for it. But she knows she'll hate herself even more later if she tries to go about the rest of her day on an empty stomach, so she makes a protein shake instead and forces herself to have some of it. The lights in the room start to irritate her, but she does her best to ignore them and seem invested in whatever everybody else is talking about. Her leg starts bouncing and her fingers start tapping again, but she can't find the energy to hide it anymore.
"Hey, Bishop. We're all headed to Joe's in a bit, after we're off the clock. You in?" Warren offers. A few months ago, Maya would have wanted nothing more than for her team to treat her like a friend again, but the idea of having to put on a front any longer than she had to, at a loud bar no less, was incredibly unappealing. She just wants to go home.
"No, uh, you guys go ahead, I'm okay. I've got some—some stuff to catch up on," she stumbles, lying and hating how fragile her voice sounds.
Warren's eyes linger on her for an extra second, and just when she thinks he's about to let it go, he asks the question that Maya can't seem to avoid today, no matter how hard she tries. "Are you sure you're okay? You just look a little bit on edge. I mean, I'm sure the captain stuff has to be stressful and all..."
The second he asks it, it's like a switch flips inside of her. She doesn't catch what he says next as it fades into the background. Doesn't reply that she's fine, that everything's alright. She just zones out, and the same feeling she had earlier returns. The impulse to run, to get out of here.
The last thing she hears is her name being said once more. She can't tell who said it, because she's already gotten up and sprinted out of the room. She doesn't know where her feet are taking her, doesn't even think she's fully conscious of her surroundings, but she stops once she's inside her office and collapses on the floor. She forgets to lock the door and close the shutters, meaning the only thing standing between her and the rest of the world is a glass door. Anybody could walk by and see her unraveling, but the loudest thought in her head right now is make it stop.
In here, it's quiet. It provides some small semblance of relief from everything going on in the rest of the station, but it isn't enough to stop, or even delay, the inevitable.
She finds herself behind her desk, curled into a shaking ball. A whine escapes her throat, and she starts crying. It's all too much, and yet, she's not even fully sure what it was that set her off. There was no reason for her to react this badly. She can hardly even remember the last time she cried this hard. Her team is just worried about her. They shouldn't be, but they are.
She tangles a trembling hand in her greasy, sweaty, now untied hair. She can't breathe, and everything feels horrible, but she doesn't know how or when it's going to end. Every ounce of her being wants to scream, but she doesn't. She can't. She holds it back, excruciatingly.
Instead, she hits. She forces the heel of the palm of her free hand into the side of her head, trying to quiet her thoughts. Pain. It's the only coping mechanism she has, the only thing she knows. The pain is familiar, it's grounding, but it doesn't help, not right away at least. She sits there for several minutes, sobbing, hitting, just trying to hold on, until she hears someone. It's faint, muffled like she's underwater, but through it all she can still tell who it is. Andy. If she wasn't actively breaking down right now, she'd be kind of impressed that her best friend still knows her tells and her habits after all these years. Andy's voice fades in and out through the volume of Maya's thoughts, but she can still make out the lieutenant's words.
"Maya. Maya, you're safe, it's alright. Is it okay if I touch you?" she asks. Maya's not sure how close Andy is to her, but she still pulls away instinctively. Her skin feels like it's on fire right now, and she can barely stand the feeling of her clothes on it, let alone another person's hands.
She manages to choke out a weak "no" between heavy breaths, and she thinks it's just about the longest verbal response she can muster at the moment.
"No? That's okay. It's your call, yeah? You're gonna be fine, it'll be over soon." Andy reassures her. "But I need you to stop hitting before you hurt yourself."
She can't, though. The hitting is painful, sure, but it's distracting too. Distracting from the overwhelm, the unbearable feeling that's been building inside Maya since she woke up.
But on top of that, she's beyond embarrassed. Ashamed. Deep down, she knows that it isn't the same thing, that it isn't intentional, but Andy's words still give Maya a flash of her father scolding her, telling her to stop whining, to pull herself together and to act like a winner. The realization only makes her feel worse, but it's enough for her to slowly, momentarily allow her hand to still, letting it rest on the side of her head in a fist before starting to scratch lightly at the sides of her neck and upper arms, reminded of how uncomfortable her shirt currently is.
"You want that off?" Andy asks. "Want me to help you?" When Maya nods to both, she hears a shifting beside her as her friend moves closer. She has to uncurl herself slightly, but Andy is gentle and does her best not to startle Maya as she guides her out of her uniform shirt, leaving her in just her SFD T-shirt. She finds that since Andy showed up, the lights in the room have been turned off and the shutters closed, something she greatly appreciates. Despite her inability to care much about it now, Maya knows how mortified her future self would be if anybody else had seen her. She can count on one hand the number of times Andy has. Once when they were in the Academy, once as probies, once in front of the rest of the team, and now.
After that brief moment, Maya retreats back into her tight fetal position, and the two of them sit there for a little while as she starts to calm down more. While she's fortunate enough to be able to say this isn't a frequent occurrence, it's still far easier to have someone she trusts there when it comes around, though it's rare given the list of people isn't long. She and Andy have had their differences, and they haven't always seen eye to eye, but they've somehow always managed to find their way back to each other.
This episode is admittedly a lot worse than usual, but most other times she'll be hiding out somewhere, in a closet, in her bunk, anywhere she can be alone, where she'll just let whatever's happening run its course. If she's still working, she'll usually drag herself up afterwards and white-knuckle her way through the rest of her shift without saying a word, but otherwise, she'll pass out from the exhaustion. She supposes that's what happened this time too, because she doesn't remember much of what's next until she finds herself waking up.
When she does, she's in her room, the one connected to her office. She's lying in bed under the weight of a blanket, and despite the darkness, she quickly figures out it's around midday. Her head still hurts a bit, and she's generally just a little blurry, but for the first time today she's not overflowing with stress and can finally breathe. Andy is lying on the floor beside the bed with a pillow, awake but appearing tired, presumably having been asleep as well. Maya feels a slight twinge of guilt seeing her there.
"Hey," Andy said softly, sitting up. "You feeling okay?" It's a big question, one Maya's not sure how to answer, nor is she sure she has the words for it. She can't really say she's fine, but she's not in fight-or-flight mode anymore either. She kind of just wants to move on and pretend nothing happened.
She twists her hands together before settling on a response. "Better," is all she says. It's not a lie. "Did you sleep on the floor?" She can't help but ask the obvious question.
Andy sits up and stretches. "Yeah, um, you were really tired. And you didn't wanna be touched, but I didn't want you to be all alone," she says. Maya just nods, still feeling a little bad but not saying more. "I talked to Carina," Andy continues. "She's working right now, but she's worried about you."
Maya gets up out of bed, her body aching dully. Truthfully, she isn't completely sure of how to navigate this whole thing with her girlfriend. She knows Carina will be kind and understanding, but she's put off talking about it, and that boundary has so far been respected. It's easier, and it lets her feel normal. She touches the side of her head, and it must have been the one she was hitting, because it's a bit sensitive to the touch. She shuts her eyes and takes a deep breath.
Despite everything, there's still a part of her that wants to work right now. That needs to be doing something. Andy seemed to have caught on to that quickly, because she says, "Give yourself a break, Maya. I know you feel like the world will stop turning if things don't get done, but it's not all on you. I don't want you to overwhelm yourself again."
"I'm fine," she deflects. She just had a bad moment. That's all it was, and it shouldn't mean she can't keep living her life.
"Are you sure? Because you just woke up, and you're already pacing and fidgeting the way you do when you get stressed," Andy counters. Her tone's not mean in any way. In fact, Maya would even say it's kind. Gentle, but concerned, the way most people would expect their best friend to be. Still, the shame hits her like a truck, and she averts her eyes, not even realizing what she was doing until it was pointed out. She sits back down on the bed. "We don't have to talk about it, Maya. Not now, not... ever, if you really don't want to. I just want you to take care of yourself," she says, standing up and moving closer to the door. "I'm gonna give you some space, but I'm always here for you."
Maya contemplates for a second. She doesn't argue with anything Andy says. She knows she has a problem with shutting down and not letting people in, and she's trying to get better. It's the only way she'll be able to trust people, and the only way they'll be able to trust her. She's lucky she's even managed a relationship.
"Andy," she looks up and sees the other woman stop for a moment before leaving the room. "Thanks. For... for earlier. I'm, uh, I'm here for you too," Maya finishes. She knows it sounds awkward and probably not the most sincere right now, but she's never been the best at communicating things with words, at least not without actions to accompany them.
Andy smiles and nods. "I know you are," she says before leaving.
Maya figures letting her walls down doesn't have to suck all the time.