Archive of Our Own

The first bruise Carina noticed was when she was eight. She had burst into the kitchen, clutching her forearm. “Mamma!”

Lucia looked up from the pasta she was kneading, setting the dough aside without a second thought as Carina climbed onto a stool in the kitchen. “What happened, amore?”

“I don’t know! I didn’t do anything, but it itched!”

The older DeLuca gently took the little arm into her hands, a purple bruise bloomed just below the elbow. Nothing else to see. “When did you fall?”

“I didn’t!” Carina frowned, almost more upset at the fact she hadn’t even done anything than the mystery bruise that had briefly itched.

Her Mamma let her fingertips brush over the bruise before pushing down slightly. But where she expected it to hurt, nothing happened. Her brows furrowed in confusion. “It doesn’t hurt, Mamma.”

“Seems like a lucky bruise to me, bambina. It might have happened without you noticing.”

“...Maybe.” She didn’t put up too much of a fight, but she did stare at the bruise for a long time, almost as if that would help her know how it got there.

A month later, it happened again. Although this time it was a scrape across the back of her hand. Carina had been reading on the couch, one moment her skin was clear, the next, a thin red line appeared. It itched barely long enough for her to notice.

“Mamma,” She said, not looking away from it.

Lucia was beside her in an instant. “Did you scratch yourself?”

She shook her head, still not looking away. “I didn’t.”

The thing was, the line hadn’t bled. It existed, and it was red, sure, but it didn’t hurt, and it didn’t bleed.

Lucia looked at every finger, every fingernail and even all the edges of her book, but nothing hinted at an injury. 

She shook her head, unsure how her daughter had ended up in this situation.

Because this could only mean one thing.

“Don’t draw on your skin again, per favore.”

By the time Carina turned ten, the mystery was almost routine. A bruise would appear at least twice a month, and, once in a while, a scratch would follow.

It was never painful, but it was always strange. It always happened out of nowhere, accompanied by a brief, almost impossible itch.

Her mother had stopped telling herself she’d probably bumped into something or drew on herself, because even she could admit a pen line wasn’t going to be responsible for the scars that followed.

They’d been to the doctors and every time, everything came back clear. So with the exception of getting random injuries that didn’t seem to belong to the girl, Carina was completely healthy.

So instead, Lucia started searching. Libraries, bookshops and even asking some of the elderly women who seemed to know everything.

Except this.

Still, Lucia kept looking.

When Carina was twelve, she found her mother sitting at the kitchen table long after midnight, staring intensely at a weathered book. “You should be asleep,” Lucia murmured without looking up.

Ignoring the comment, Carina padded closer. “What are you reading?”

Lucia didn’t reply for a moment, until she turned the book so her daughter could see the illustration. 

Two figures, a golden thread wound around their wrists that connected them across the page. “I think…” Her mamma smiled, though her eyes were glistering. “I might have found an answer.”

The old book called it soul-bound. Rare enough that even the author knew little about it. It was a bond between souls, something that seemed almost at random, simply two souls that had found each other.

Most people had never heard of them and would continue to know nothing about it. Very little was known because so few bonded pairs had ever documented their experience.

Their injuries left echoes upon one another. Bruises, cuts, burns and scars. There wouldn’t be any pain, only the marks and the itch. 

With time, it was entirely possible to notice the difference between existing injuries as well, your own feeling slightly different than your bonded marks.

Though, distance was something that could help with this. If you and the other half of the soul-bound were close, the itch would be clearer, and even distinguishing marks from your own injuries would become easier.

And though their souls are bonded, it didn’t mean the two would be destined for romance together.

Even if it usually ended that way.

Though, the book did warn of one possible exception to the no pain, if one of the people soul-bound stood on the edge of death, the other would feel enough pain to know.

But Lucia had closed the book before Carina could read the page herself. 

She wasn’t ready for that part yet.

From then on, every new mark carried meaning.

Sure, she still found it hard to believe, because who could believe their soul was bonded to another. But every new mark would leave Carina, and Lucia, curious.

They hadn’t told Andrea, he was still too young to understand. But her papà sneered, insisting the girl was just stupid and forgetting how she got injured.

After that, Lucia made sure to smile at every new mark. “Your bonded soul must have had an adventurous day.”

When a scratch bloomed across Carina’s knee, she wondered what had happened.

Her bond was something the girl liked to imagine about. Were they her age? A boy or a girl? Did they like books? Would they speak Italian? Would they recognize each other?

Every mark was supposed to be a new clue, but she wasn’t getting anywhere closer to knowing who was on the other side of the bond.

As the years passed, the stories changed. The childhood bruises never disappeared entirely, there were still mornings where Carina would wake up with a fresh mark blooming on her skin, a reminder that somewhere, her bonded soul was still moving through the world.

But they became less frequent, the little accidents of childhood gave away to something else. Instead, long, narrow scrapes would appear along her shins or deep bruises littering her legs. Once, she woke up to a painful-looking mark across her ankle, and spent an entire morning trying to figure out what could’ve caused it.

Her mother had joked that maybe they did a fighting sport. Carina wasn’t sure what to think, but she knew that she wanted the other soul to be okay, preferably not by fighting, though if they were chasing something they liked, maybe that would be fine.

Even if it made her look like she’d lost several fights with the pavement.

One time, it happened right before Carina was supposed to be in family photos for her cousin's wedding, marked legs in full view. She wasn’t sure if she would forgive her bonded half for that.

Of course, she did forgive them, she always did. Because at the same time, every mark meant they were alive. Someone she had never met, but spent her entire life quietly caring about.

Nobody could have known that, thousands of kilometers away, a young Maya Bishop was finishing another brutal training session. Her lungs burned and her entire body, especially her legs, were begging her to stop.

But stopping had never been an option.

Her father watched from the sidelines, already talking about tomorrow’s expectations before she had even finished today’s workout.

He had tried to get her into hurdling, but no matter how hard she tried, she hit the hurdle more often than she didn’t

With a sigh he accepted his daughter would be focusing on long distance running.

So she ran, every session, Maya pushed herself until failure. And bit by bit, another piece of her life quietly appeared on Carina’s side.

Maya learned not to question the marks. The first time she wondered about it was after a training session when she was thirteen. She sat on the floor of her bedroom, stretching out her legs while her muscles slowly stopped burning.

That was when she noticed the bruise, a dark mark spreading across her shin.

She frowned as she ran her fingers over it. "Huh."

She didn't remember hitting it, and it didn’t even hurt as she touched it.

She looked back through the day. The entire training, but nothing made sense.

"Maya?" Lane's voice came from the doorway.

She looked up. "Yes?"

He glanced between her and the bruise her fingers were still brushing over. "What did you do?"

"I-” She hesitated for a second. “I don't know."

His expression shifted, definitely not into concern, no it was something closer to annoyance. "You train every day."

Maya looked back down at her leg. "I know."

"So?"

There were a hundred ways it could have happened. A hundred moments she could have forgotten. She closed her eyes for a second and shook her head. "Guess I just didn't notice."

Lane nodded like that was the end of it, because to him, it was. And eventually, it became the end of it for Maya too.

The marks continued.

A scratch across her arm after a long run. A bruise on her shoulder after strength training. Or a thin red line across her ankle that she couldn't remember getting.

Every time, she noticed and paused. But every time, there was an explanation. Training, bumping into furniture, falling when she got distracted, or, as her dad reminded her, she simply wouldn’t notice when she got it.

Nothing unusual.

Nothing worth worrying about.

By the time Maya joined the academy, the bruises became bigger and the scratches became deeper.

At the same time, the injuries became easier to explain. A training exercise gone wrong or just a bad day.

Everyone around her had marks because everyone got hurt, that was just part of it.

Once she graduated and joined nineteen, it became impossible to keep track of the cuts and bruises. The burns were easier, it was almost impossible not to notice when you got burned.

She could come home after a twenty-four-hour shift with injuries she barely remembered getting.

The first few times, she still wondered. A bruise or scratch appeared when she was certain she hadn't hit anything. That strange, brief itch.

But then the calls kept coming and injuries kept happening.

She pushed herself harder in training, she knew she was fast, she knew she was good. But if she kept getting injured, she must not be doing something good enough.

With every mystery injury, the simplest explanation was always the same.

She was a firefighter.

Of course she got hurt.

Over time Carina noticed that the injuries changed.

The first few were easy to explain, the marks didn’t insinuate anything too painful. But Carina was a doctor now, and she was a lot better at knowing what injury could belong to the mark.

A burn appeared across her arm, once again it didn’t hurt, and after the three second itch, she could hardly feel it. But the burn seemed bad, and she couldn’t help but worry.

Carina stared at it for a long time. "What are you doing?" She whispered.

She could feel the difference by now, between her own injuries and the other bonded-soul. The difference was subtle, but it was there. There was a slight disconnect between her and the bonded-soul marks.

Another time there was the shoulder injury.

That one scared her.

Between the location and severity, Carina had been sitting on the edge of her bed that night with the old book open beside her, trying to convince herself that concern was unnecessary.

People got injured.

People survived.

The bond had existed for decades.

They were still here.

But she knew too much, she knew what injuries meant and she knew what kind of force created certain scars. And she knew her bonded soul was repeatedly putting themselves in situations where they could get hurt.

Over time, she started keeping notes. She was worried.

A burn at 3 P.M.? Possible workplace injury. But what kind of job is that?

A deep cut at 4 A.M.? Unknown.

Shoulder wound at 11 P.M.? Also unknown.

Another cut across her side at 9 A.M.? She was starting to question the bonded-souls working hours.

The mystery that had once felt magical slowly became frightening. She didn't know who they were or how they were. She didn't know if every new mark meant they were okay...

Or if it meant they had barely escaped something worse.

The realization came slowly. At first, she considered the obvious. A professional fighter.

But athletes didn't usually come with burns. Or… well… most of the kind of injuries she was seeing now.

Then maybe something else. 

She considered construction, the military, a dangerous hobby or even a criminal.

The thought made her immediately dismiss it.

No.

The marks seemed as logical as her shifts when she did OBGYN and ER shifts.

Shifts.

The other person must be working different shifts too.

Were they a first responder?

Seattle was supposed to be a new beginning.

Carina had left Italy behind with a suitcase full of clothes, a head full of memories, and the old book carefully packed between her belongings.

And more luggage she and Gabriella were convinced she couldn’t leave behind.

For years, she had imagined what it would feel like when the distance finally changed. When the bond finally became clearer, she had never expected anything dramatic. Not a voice in her head. No impossible pull leading her through the streets.

Just...

Something.

And she got it, almost immediately. The first mark after arriving in Seattle appeared before she had even finished unpacking.

A thin red line across her forearm and Carina froze in the middle of her apartment.

Her fingers brushed over the mark, her heart beating a little faster. Closer, they had to be closer. At first, Carina was excited, the old book had said proximity strengthened the bond and she had spent years wondering what that meant.

Now she finally understood, the sensation was clearer. The connection felt less like a distant echo and more like someone standing just out of sight.

Someone she might actually find.

Someone she might actually meet.

Maya barely sat down before she was being handed a beer. She was the last of the team to show up at Joes, but it hadn’t been hard to find the group.

She was desperately trying to ignore an itch on her arm while being halfway through listening to Travis explain why a movie from twenty years ago was "objectively better cinema" when Vic suddenly frowned. "Wait."

Maya turned her head to look at her. "What?"

"What happened there?" Vic pointed at the blonde’s arm and blue eyes immediately looked down at the bruise that was spreading across her arm.

She blinked. "Huh."

"That's a concerning response."

Maya turned her arm a bit to look at it properly. It was a strange one, it seemed like it must’ve hurt. Except...

She didn't remember getting it.

"When did you do that?" Andy asked.

Maya frowned harder. "I don't know."

Vic raised an eyebrow. "You don't know?"

"I mean..." Maya glanced around the table. "I haven't moved in like twenty minutes."

"Exactly."

Maya poked the bruise carefully. "Maybe it happened earlier."

"Earlier when?"

"On shift."

Vic looked unconvinced. "Maya."

"What?"

"You don't remember getting hit?"

"No."

"And you're just okay with that?"

The blonde shrugged. "I work at a fire station, Vic."

That was usually enough of an explanation, it made perfect sense. She had spent years collecting injuries she didn't remember. Cuts from calls. Bruises from training. Scrapes from climbing into places she probably shouldn't have been climbing into.

One more mystery bruise wasn't exactly unusual. "Probably hit it on something."

Vic opened her mouth, clearly ready to argue but then she closed it, because unfortunately, Maya had a point. "You're impossible."

The blonde smirked. "So I've been told."

The conversation moved on and within minutes, Maya wasn't thinking about the bruise anymore.

Just before the bruise was discovered, the door to Joe’s had opened again and Carina stepped inside with Jo and Teddy, immediately grateful for the warmth and noise of the bar after the long day. She had spent enough hours surrounded by hospital walls. So tonight, she wanted something normal. Something easy.

"Drinks first," Teddy announced.

Carina laughed and stepped further into the bar, following them toward a table until- “Ow.”

She stopped to look at the heavy wooden door that had caught her arm as it swung shut behind her. Carina looked down, a red mark that she was certain would end up bruising was clearly visible on her arm. “Of course.” She sighed.

Jo looked back. "What?"

She simply held up her arm.

“Ouch.” Teddy winced.

Carina smiled despite herself. "Definitely."

She had never told Jo or Teddy about being soul-bound.

Not yet. And it wasn’t because she didn’t trust them, it was more that she had only known them for a short while, and frankly, there was no easy way to bring it up.

How did one casually say: Hi, I have spent my entire life sharing injuries with a stranger because our souls are apparently connected?

It sounded impossible.

Even to her.

Before she could say more, Teddy stood back up. "I'll get the drinks."

Jo leaned back in the booth and Carina let her eyes wander while they waited. She knew some of the faces around the bar. Not personally, but enough.

She knew Ben from Miranda, and it made it easy to spot Ben Warren's team. She had seen them around Grey Sloan, firefighters passing through the hospital.

Her gaze moved across the group and stopped for a second. The blonde. Carina didn’t know her name, or anything else about her, but she was… well. She was attractive. The brunette looked away again, though her head moved before her eyes followed.

"Interesting."

Carina glanced back at Jo. "What?"

Jo had a knowing smile. "Nothing."

"There was definitely something."

"You were looking."

"I was observing."

"Observing one of the firefighters?"

Carina sighed. "I have eyes."

But before Jo could say anything else, Teddy returned with the drinks, catching only the end of the conversation. "What did I miss?"

"Carina was staring at a firefighter."

"I was not staring."

Teddy looked over. "Blonde?"

Carina gave her a look. "That predictable?"

Teddy laughed. "It’s not my fault you usually leave Joes with a blonde."

"The woman from last week was a brunette!" Carina tried to look offended, but there was no point arguing. Instead of taking the bite, Teddy bit the side of her cheek to stop herself from laughing. "She is pretty."

Carina picked up her drink. "She is."

Jo and Teddy exchanged a look and Carina immediately pointed at them. "Do not."

They both laughed.

"I am here to enjoy an evening with my friends," Carina said.

"And?"

"And I have an early shift tomorrow."

Jo raised her eyebrows. "So?"

"So I need actual sleep."

Teddy smiled. "Not..."

Carina sighed dramatically. "Not sesso, unfortunately."

The three of them burst into laughter.

And as the evening continued, she didn’t think about the hospital or the stranger whose injuries she had carried for years. And she certainly didn't think about the beautiful firefighter sitting only a few tables away.

Not yet anyway.

But maybe she would ask her out next time.

The marks were familiar. They were proof that somewhere, somehow, her bonded soul was still moving through the world.

Still alive.

The pain however, was different. She knew that before she even understood what was happening.

She was halfway through reviewing a patient's chart in the ER when it felt like the world tilted. Her hand froze around the tablet. A sharp pressure tightened across her chest, but worse was the stabbing pain in her abdomen.

For one terrifying second, she forgot how to breathe.

Carina looked around the room, she could hear the monitors beeping and people speaking, she could see the nurses moving between rooms. Everything was normal, except she wasn’t.

She gripped the edge of the counter, forcing herself to take a breath and another wave hit.

Pain.

Not hers, she knew that. She knew her body.

This was different.

This was someone else's.

Someone else's panic, someone else's body struggling.

And with that realization she could’ve sworn her stomach dropped. "No." The word barely left her mouth.

Because there was only one reason. Only one reason the old book had described this, only one reason she would feel like this.

If the bond cries out, listen.

The words from the old pages suddenly felt far too real.

When one soul stands at the edge of losing itself, the other will know.

Carina had read that sentence hundreds of times, as a teenager, student, and even now still as a doctor. She had always thought there was something beautiful about it.

A little tragic, and maybe even a little romantic.

Now, standing in the middle of Grey Sloan, she hated every word of it.

Because she knew what it meant, her bonded soul was hurt.

Badly.

Another burst of pain forced her to close her eyes as she tried to take a deep breath. This was bad, she knew that. And as soon as the wave passed, she straightened immediately.

Letting the doctor in her take over, the panic was still there, it was just forced somewhere deeper. She needed to move. She needed information.

She needed to know.

Because somewhere close, someone she'd never met was fighting to stay alive. Because every mark she'd carried had a face she didn't know, and after years of wondering whether she'd meet them someday...

She was terrified that someday might be too late.

Carina had spent years worrying about scratches, burns, bruises and scars. But never had she truly believed she would feel the warning. The thing her mother had protected her from when she was young. The reason Lucia had closed the book before letting her read further.

What felt like two hours but could only have been twenty minutes later, the brunette was frustrated. She had spent the first ten minutes in the bathroom, looking at all the new injuries on her abdomen and arms.

The last ten had been spent back in the ER, watching as the news reported several scenes, but none were reporting any injuries.

Useless.

The bond had always been clearer in Seattle, the one time she’d left the city she had immediately noticed a decrease, but this was different. This time the distance between them felt almost nonexistent.

Not two seconds later, the emergency doors opened and the noise immediately followed as a stretcher was rushed inside.

Carina turned, at first she saw the uniform. Firefighter.

Then the injuries, and she was crossing the space immediately, staying far enough back to stay out of the way, but close enough to see the injuries. The moment she got a good look, everything else disappeared.

Because she knew, piece by piece, that these injuries matched her marks. 

Her eyes continued to track over the patient, the woman. The blonde hair, the familiar face.

The woman from Joe’s.

Carina’s breath caught. No. There’s no way.

She’d spent years learning the shape of this person’s life without ever knowing what they looked like. This stranger, whose injuries appeared on Carina’s skin and whose scars she carried.

The stranger she had spent years hoping she would get to meet. And now she was here, practically close enough to touch, but instead, she was fighting for their life.

Carina had lost track of how many injuries she’s seen over the years. She’d seen trauma that made the most experienced doctors go quiet for a moment.

She knew how to separate emotion from medicine, she knew how to focus.

But this? This stopped her. Because this was a face she knew, not just a body that matched her marks, her bond. This was about the blonde firefighter she’d noticed across the bar, the woman she thought was attractive. She’d agreed with her friends that she was pretty.

Never had she imagined it would be the same person whose life had been marked across her skin for decades.

Somewhere beneath the panic and the noise of the trauma bay, the years rearranged themselves. The scrape on her shin when she was young. The marks before family photos. The scar on her ankle and the one on her shoulder. The burns.

All of the different marks that had terrified her, the ones that had made her sit awake at night wondering if her bonded soul was safe.

All of them belonged to this woman.

This firefighter.

And she didn’t even know her fucking name.

Hours later, when the firefighter, Maya, was finally out of surgery, Carina stood outside the room, just looking through the glass.

The woman inside was unconscious, but she was alive and breathing on her own. She was safe, at least for now.

Carina pressed her fingers against the scar on her own arm, one she’d gotten years ago, another one that didn’t belong to her. "You really are impossible," she whispered. Her voice cracked slightly.

After all these years, the marks, worry and unanswered questions she had finally found her. It didn’t feel as relieving as she had expected it to. It only made the fear worse, not only did she now know exactly who she was at risk of losing, she also knew that her bonded half willingly risked her life.

Maya woke up slowly, and the first thing she noticed was that it was dark outside. She’d been awake a few times before during the day, a very relieved Vic had been sitting next to her until she’d been asked to leave till visiting hours started tomorrow.

A quiet movement caught her attention, and her eyes stayed on the woman sitting beside the bed. Based on the scrubs she was wearing, she had to be working in the hospital. But that didn’t clear up anything as to why she would be sitting here.

Maya frowned slightly and the woman noticed immediately. "You're awake." Her voice was warm.

Maya swallowed, her throat dry. "Who are you?"

The woman smiled softly. "I'm Carina."

Maya waited for recognition to set in. The name didn’t mean anything to her, and while the woman was attractive, ridiculously so, she couldn’t remember hooking up with her either. Though she would’ve tried if it wasn’t for the fact that she was in a hospital bed.

"I'm sorry," Maya said slowly. "Have we met?"

Carina hesitated. "No." A pause. "Not exactly."

Maya's eyebrows pulled together. That wasn’t the answer she expected.

Carina leaned forward slightly. "I'm a doctor here, but…"

She stopped.

For the first time since Maya had opened her eyes, Carina looked uncertain. Maya knew uncertainty, she saw it in people all the time, but she didn't expect to see it on the face of the person who had been sitting beside her. "But?"

Carina looked down at her hands. She hadn’t thought this part through. For all she knew, Maya wasn’t even aware she was part of a soul-bond. And how do you even start this conversation? “Hi, our souls are bonded together, and I get marks for all your injuries.”? No. There was no way.

She looked back up at Maya. “Have you…” She hesitated, reforming the words in her head. “Have you ever had random marks that you can’t explain? Bruises and cuts that shouldn’t be there, but also don’t hurt?”

Maya stared at her, her mouth opening slightly. How did she know? Was there something wrong with her? "That sounds ominous."

A small smile appeared on Carina's face. "It’s not that bad."

For a moment the brunette paused, biting her lip. She had to tell her, but she was well aware Maya might not believe her. "This is going to sound strange, but I have spent my entire life knowing that there was someone connected to me."

Maya's expression didn't falter, but she could see the confusion in the blue eyes.

"I know that sounds strange."

"It does."

"I understand." Carina nodded. "I would probably say the same thing."

That made Maya pause, there was something about Carina’s tone… it didn’t sound like she was trying to convince her, almost more like she was genuinely trying to explain something.

"There is a rare type of bond."

Maya's eyes narrowed slightly. "Bond?"

"Yes."

"Like..."

She gestured vaguely. "Soulmate?"

Carina's mouth twitched. "Not exactly."

That caught Maya off guard, between random injuries, connectedness, and bond she was sure Carina was about to try and tell her soulmates are real, and that definitely couldn’t be true. "Not exactly?"

"The old texts call it a soul-bond."

Maya stared at her. Maybe that wasn’t much better.

Silence stretched between them.

"Okay."

Carina blinked. "Okay?"

"I'm deciding whether pain medication is making this conversation weird, it’s the drugs right? Do you know what they’re giving me?"

Despite herself, Carina laughed softly. "It’s not the drugs, but- I do get your reaction."

"You do?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I spent years reading about this and still struggled to believe it somedays."

Maya looked away as a strange feeling settled in her chest. There was a part of her that believed Carina. Not the freaky magic bond thing, that had to be impossible. But the sincerity made her want to believe it.

The fact that this woman looked almost as scared as Maya felt. She took a breath before asking her next question, even though she wasn’t sure she wanted the answer to it. "What does this have to do with me?"

Carina was quiet for a moment. "I think..." She swallowed. "I think you are the person I've been connected to."

Maya stared. For several seconds, she didn't speak, because there was no way. She wasn’t stupid, she’d realized that that was what Carina was trying to tell her. But thinking and being told are two very different things.

Carina shot her another small smile as she reached down into her bag that was resting beside the chair.

She paused for a moment, fingers brushing over the zipper. She didn’t carry the book with her. That would be impractical, ridiculous even. 

A notebook was logical to carry, walking around with an old book, that had seen its better days, that happened to explain soul-bonds would only raise questions.

So all she did was pull out a well-worn notebook as a flicker of disappointment crossed her face. “If I’d known I was going to meet you today,” she admitted quietly, “I would’ve brought the book.”

Maya watched her carefully while her thumb absentmindedly traced over the cover. “But… I didn’t.” She said, a small smile returning to her face. “I can show it to you another day, if you’d like.”

There was a hint of hope in the words, a hope that there would be another day.

“For now…” She held up the notebook. “I copied everything here.”

“Why?” Maya frowned.

Carina blinked. “I…” She glanced down at the notebook. “Well, I don’t exactly carry the original around, and I always have a notebook with me, so-”

“No.” The blonde interrupted, shaking her head. “I mean, why copy it at all?”

The brunette’s expression softened, a quiet laugh escaping her. “I suppose it became a habit.”

She opened the notebook carefully, revealing pages filled with neat handwriting. “Ever since we found the book, I’ve copied it into every notebook I’ve owned.”

“We?”

A fond smile spread across Carina’s face. “My mamma. She spent years trying to figure out why I kept getting bruises and scratches that weren’t mine.”

Maya’s eyes drifted to the pages. “And… it says…”

Carina nodded. “It says soul-bounded people exist.”

The firefighter let out a quiet breath. "Right."

Carina looked at her and Maya shifted slightly, immediately regretting the movement when pain pulled through her side. "This is a lot." Her voice softened. "I woke up in a hospital after almost dying, and a woman I've never met is telling me that magic is real and that we're connected."

Carina nodded slowly. "I didn’t say magic but- something like that. It does sound impossible, I know."

"Because it is."

A small smile tugged at Carina's mouth. "That is what I thought too."

Maya looked at her. "You did?"

"When I was young, I thought it was wonderful." Carina ran her fingers lightly over the edge of the book. "Then I got older. I learned more about medicine. About the human body. About all the things that have explanations."

She looked back at Maya. "But this never had one."

But the blonde didn't answer, because realistically, that was the part that bothered her. Carina wasn't acting like someone who had lost touch with reality. She was calm and certain and for some reason, that was almost more unsettling.

"So you think every random bruise I've ever gotten..."

"Wasn't random."

Maya looked away. She didn't like that. Not because she didn't believe it, because she did. Well… a little maybe. And that was almost worse. 

"No." The word came out quieter than she expected.

Carina tilted her head. "No?"

"I don't..." The blonde searched for the right words. "I don't know how to believe that."

Carina's expression softened. "You don't have to."

That surprised her. "I don't?"

"No." Carina closed the book gently. "I spent years knowing something was there. You spent years not knowing anything. I would not expect you to understand in a day."

Maya studied her. "You really believe this."

"Yes."

"Why?"

Carina looked down at the marks on Maya's arms, all the scars and injuries she recognized instantly from her own skin. “I’ve spent years of my life carrying pieces of your life without knowing your name, and if I had any doubt before, I can see all my scars on you, and we can both see some of the marks I have for your new injuries.

Maya went quiet, she didn’t actually have a rebuttal for that, but that didn’t mean that this wasn’t ridiculous. Maybe it was just some crazy coincidence.

Before she could answer though, Carina reached for the book again and a page caught against her finger. It was a sharp movement and a small hiss. "Ow."

Maya looked over immediately as Carina pulled her hand back, a tiny cut appearing across her fingertip. 

For a second, neither of them moved, until Maya gasped. Not because of the cut, but because she could see the thin red line appearing across her own finger, and could feel the itch disappearing after a couple of seconds.

Right in front of her.

Except for the machines, the room went silent as the firefighter stared, then slowly looked from her hand to Carina’s.

The same mark, in the same spot, at the same moment. Carina didn't say anything, she was well aware she didn’t have to.

Maya swallowed. "That..." Her voice was quiet. "That wasn't there before."

"No."

"And you didn’t see it before either..."

"No."

Maya looked back down. The mark didn't hurt, it wasn’t bleeding.

This had to be impossible. This can’t be real.

The brunette watched her carefully. "Does that help?"

Maya stared at the mark for another few seconds. "...A little."

Carina smiled softly, a tiny bit of relief crossing her face.

Then Maya looked up at her again. "Your hand."

"What?" Carina blinked.

"Your hand."

"It's just a small cut."

"You just cut yourself."

Carina looked amused. "I am aware."

"Then go fix it."

The amusement turned into a small laugh. "Maya."

"I'm serious."

"You just got confronted about the impossible soul-bond, but your first concern is a paper cut?"

Maya frowned. "That I can understand, this soul thing… not so much."

Carina stared at her, trying to hide a smile but failing to do so.

The firefighter watched as Carina stood, took care of the small cut and put a bandaid over it before coming back. “Better?” She said with a slight smirk.

“Better.” She echoed, a smile tugging on her lips.

Maybe there really was something connecting them. But she absolutely wasn't ready to understand what that meant yet.

Carina came back the next day, and though Maya shouldn't have been surprised, she still was. After everything that had happened, the impossible explanation and the even more impossible proof, she really should’ve expected it.

Still, when she woke up from a nap and saw Carina sitting in the chair beside her bed, a book open in her lap, she blinked. "You came back."

Carina looked up. "Yes."

It was a good thing though, because Maya had questions.

A lot of questions.

"So the marks just appear?"

"Yes."

"They don't hurt?"

"Usually no."

"Usually?"

Carina hesitated and the blonde noticed it immediately. "Usually?"

"The book says there is an exception."

Maya immediately frowned. "What exception?"

Carina closed the book. "When one bonded person is in serious danger."

Maya went quiet, because she instantly knew what Carina must mean. “You felt this.” She said, looking down at herself while she gestured to her abdomen.

Carina nodded. "Yes."

"Because of me."

"In a way, sì."

Maya didn't know what to say to that. She knew what it was like to run into active fires. She knew what it was like to be in pain. But now the idea of a stranger feeling her pain wasn't just strange anymore. It was downright terrifying.

On the third day, Maya had read the book over a dozen times and she was still confused. "I have questions."

Carina smiled. "I expected that."

"How do we know this isn't some weird medical thing?"

Carina raised an eyebrow. "A medical thing?"

"Some kind of neurological response. Shared hallucination. Something."

Carina smiled sadly. "I have researched this for years."

Maya stared. "That is somehow both reassuring and terrifying."

Carina laughed. "Sì, that’s fair."

"No, seriously." Maya’s gaze shifted to the window. "You spent how many years researching this?"

"Since I was a child."

"Because of me?"

Carina's expression softened. "Because of the person connected to me."

Maya gaze stayed trained outside. That wasn’t a much better answer, but it was still easier to accept.

By day four, Maya still didn't fully believe it. She wasn't there yet. But she had stopped arguing with Carina over it. And she was asking less questions that could possibly explain this in a way that would make it disappear.

Instead, she shifted to a new line of questions.

"What was the first mark you remember?"

"A bruise when I was eight."

"Eight?"

"Yes."

Maya frowned. "How long have you known?"

Carina smiled faintly. "About the bond?"

"About me."

That made the brunette pause for a second. "I didn't know you."

Maya nodded. "But you knew that there was someone."

"Yes." The answer was quiet. "Though it took me a while to realize you could be a firefighter."

Maya looked at her with wide eyes. "You knew that?"

Carina smiled. "I wasn’t sure."

Maya looked down as a small, almost embarrassed smile appeared. 

One afternoon, Maya finally asked the question that had been sitting in the back of her mind. "Do you ever get tired of it?"

Carina’s gaze moved back to her from where she’d been looking out the window. "Of what?"

"Waiting."

She looked at her hands, neither of them rushing to fill the silence. 

"Sometimes."

Maya waited.

"But mostly..." Carina smiled softly. "Mostly, I was just happy you were alive."

Maya didn't know how to respond to that, she had expected a lot of answers, but not this one. This woman looked at her like every scar and every injury had only ever meant one thing.

That she had survived.

She didn’t want to believe it. Not fate, not the bond. She absolutely wasn’t ready to accept that the universe had connected her to someone. 

There was one thing she could accept she was ready for though. When Carina walked into the room now, Maya no longer wondered why. She just smiled.

By the time Maya was cleared to leave the hospital, she had gotten used to Carina being there, which was strange on its own. Currently though, Carina stood at the end of the bed, checking over the discharge instructions one more time.

The room stayed quiet until Maya cleared her throat. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

Maya hesitated, something that was unusual enough on its own. She wasn't someone who struggled to speak, but this felt different. "Can I have your number?"

Carina blinked, but a small smile was already appearing on her face. "You finally believe me?"

Maya immediately shook her head. "No."

Carina laughed softly, though the smile faltered a little. "That was fast."

The firefighter looked down. "But..." She paused, searching for the right words. "I don't know what I believe yet. But I want to know more."

The smile on Carina's face softened. It was okay that the blonde didn’t fully believe it yet, she knew it was a lot to take in. But regardless of that, she was choosing to stay. "Okay."

Maya looked up. "Okay?"

"Okay." Carina reached for her phone. "I think that is a very good start."

Maya typed her number in and handed her phone back. “So…”

“So..?” Carina echoed, putting her phone in her pocket.

Maya rubbed the back of her neck, suddenly looking far less confident. “Before my friends show up and take this as their time to question the ‘mysterious doctor’, maybe we can get a coffee soon?”

Carina looked at her, she had half expected another question about the bond, even though they talked about a lot of non-bond-related things too. But this was something she’d be foolish to turn down. "I’d like that, I’ll bring some over to yours unless you want to wait until you’re properly healed?"

The blonde laughed. “If you leave that decision up to me I’ll be back at work next week.

“So I’ll ignore your opinion entirely.” She said, raising an eyebrow.

“Coffee at mine it is.” The blonde said, still laughing.

“I’ll bring coffee.”

“And the book?” Maya asked hesitantly.

Carina’s smile softened immediately. “And the book.”

A year later, Maya still managed to forget that Carina knew her better than anyone else.

She had barely stepped through the front door when Carina looked up from the kitchen. "Don't."

Maya froze with one hand still on the door. "What?"

Brown eyes narrowed and Maya immediately knew she was in trouble. She should’ve expected this really, but there was still a part of her that thought she could get away with it.

"You got injured."

Maya sighed. "It is nothing."

Carina didn’t bother with a reply, just stared at her with her arms crossed until the blonde would inevitably say something else. 

"It was small." She said, quietly closing the door and placing her keys on the hook.

"You’re still injured.” Carina replied, she unfolded her arms and her shoulders sagged slightly before walking over to the blonde who couldn't help the smile that appeared.

There it was.

The exact same expression Carina had given her a million times as she had tried to explain a soul-bond to her. Patient and certain.

And also completely unimpressed by Maya's attempts to avoid the obvious. "You know that's a little unfair."

She raised her eyebrows. "How?"

"Because you are using the fact that you know me against me."

"No." Carina walked closer. "It’s not my fault I know when you’re injured."

Maya opened her mouth before closing it again because unfortunately she didn’t have an argument against that.

Carina smiled. "Exactly."

Maya shook her head. "You enjoy this."

"A little bit.” She said with a smirk, pinching her fingers together.

"The good thing is, I'm okay."

"I know." Carina reached for her hand. "But okay does not mean you get to pretend nothing happened, sì?"

Maya squeezed her fingers.

"So..." she began, her voice carefully casual.

Carina immediately looked suspicious. "...What?"

The firefighter stepped closer until barely any space remained between them. "Yes, I may have forgotten to mention I got hurt… again."

"You absolutely forgot to mention you got hurt."

"But," Maya continued, a teasing smile tugging at her lips, "I'm willing to make it up to you."

"Oh?" Carina tilted her head. "And how exactly were you planning on doing that?"

Maya leaned in just enough to brush a kiss against the corner of Carina's mouth. "I can think of a few ideas."

Carina hummed thoughtfully, pretending to consider it. "I am listening."

"I'll cook dinner."

"Mmhm."

"I'll do the dishes."

"Very generous."

"And..." The blonde’s grin widened. "I suppose I could convince my incredibly attractive girlfriend to come to bed with me afterwards."

Carina laughed, the sound warm and bright as she rested her forehead against Maya's. "You are trying very hard to distract me."

"Is it working?"

"Only a little."

Maya stole another quick kiss. "It usually works."

"That is because I like kissing you."

"Ah yes, I had noticed that." Blue eyes were practically sparkling, and Carina couldn’t help but smile at the look on her girlfriend’s face.

It had felt surprisingly normal when they first started dating, sure the soul-bond had brought them into each other's lives, but it wasn’t why they were together. 

Coffee had turned into lunch and lunch into dinners. Eventually, dinners turned into evenings neither of them wanted to end and somewhere along the way, Carina had finally gathered the courage to ask Maya on an actual date.

Simply because she had fallen for the stubborn, kind, endlessly determined woman who made her laugh. And Maya, after pretending to think about it for all of three seconds, had said yes.

Carina brushed a thumb over the back of Maya's hand. "You still have to let me look at the wound first, I don’t like how it looks on me."

Maya sighed dramatically. "I knew there was a catch."

"There is always a catch when you come home injured."

"You're impossible." Maya smiled, leaning in for one last kiss before letting Carina take her hand toward the bathroom.

"Fine," she murmured. "Doctor first."

The brunette squeezed her hand. "Girlfriend second."

"And after that?"

A mischievous smile spread across Carina's face. "Then," she said, "we can discuss your apology."