Squueaakkk
Squeeaakkkk
Squeak.
Carina’s hands were idly at her sides, as she pivoted on her heels, stepping away from the trashcan and the lid closing with a soft thud as her dirty scrub cover and cap plunk to the bottom.
Her shoes squeaked against the linoleum, bouncing off her temples under the muddy and incoherent buzz that lingered. People were saying things, around her, near her, to her. She couldn’t hear them, as it was all underwater. Everything felt out of focus and fuzzy as she made her squeaking way down the hallway toward the lounge in the NICU. She knew it would be a few before baby one and two would have their home, but she felt an obligation to stay nearby.
The anxiety of her whole team sat on her, weighed on her. The surgery had been grueling, absolutely depleting Carina more than she would like to admit. She felt the dissociative catatonia slips its sweet, devilish fingers over her throat as she plunked down on a couch in the lounge, turning it to face the window. Going on hour fifty-two of a grueling journey with her new Mama to twins had forced her to sit, and Carina wasn’t entirely sure she could get up.
She could hear Amelia’s vague rambles next to her, something about Christmas, and plans and expectations. Everybody needed everything from her, and she couldn’t seem to give it.
Why so many needs from me?
Leave me alone
“Carina, are you okay?” Amelia says, rounding in front of her figure, her face slightly jarred and twisted, clearly uncomfortable with worry.
Carina looks down at her legs, willing them to move, to wiggle, to do anything. She needed to stand, to check on her twins, her mama. To get home to her family and kiss her loves.
I’m fine. I just need to walk. I can’t- oh god I can’t walk.
But… the babies… Twin B needed help… It was all so fast…
Amelia’s face twists once more, studying Carina’s figure with an intensely furrowed brow, trying to follow her fragmented Italian as Carina stared still forward, the catatonia and lifeless cadence of speech beginning to shoot a shiver up Amelia’s spine.
I should.. Have… been… better…
Her chest begins to heave, stuck in a silent panic, begging and willing her lead filled legs to move and the world to stop being garbled and Amelia’s prods to cease. She willed for anything, for Baby B to be okay, for her team to get them stable.
But mostly, she needed her fucking legs to move, and they couldn’t. They were broken.
Need.. Maya.. I need… Liam
Amelia’s face immediately catches recognition of the names amidst the broken Italian Carina was spitting, watching in fervent worry as Carina pulls her phone out, checking the text from Maya, a sweet photo of their baby Liam, bouncing around the living room in his Christmas onesie.
Carina immediately bursts into sobs, her eyes still coldly and terrifyingly forward, unable to oscillate properly between her family and her duty to the hospital, but to remain frozen in between. Amelia nods to herself, deciding to bring it back up. This OB was officially headed for collapse, and needed one swift, blonde and blurry remedy-
Stat!
~
The house glows softly under the warm twinkle of Christmas lights, the faint hum of holiday music floating through the air. Frost paints the corners of the windows, and the scent of pine and cinnamon lingers like a gentle hug. Peggy and Dayna lounge comfortably in the living room, their laughter mingling with Liam’s squeals of joy as he scoots around the room in his bouncy car.
Maya Bishop sinks into the couch with a sigh, cracking the top on a beer and letting the exhaustion of a long shift begin to fade. Her muscles ache, her feet throb, but the sight of Liam wearing his little Santa cap for the fleeting three seconds it stayed on his bald head was enough to make her smile. The blurry photo she managed to snap before he ripped it off is already a cherished treasure.
She takes a sip of her beer, watching Liam pause in his scooting to grin at her with that gummy, scrunchy-nosed smile that always melts her. It’s perfect—a quiet Christmas Eve playdate with Peggy and Dayna, the perfect way to unwind before vacation.
But perfection shatters in an instant.
“Firefighter Barbie, your wife is broken. I need you to come to the hospital, like, now.” Amelia’s voice rattles through the phone.
Maya’s eyes bulge out of her skull, lurching forward and slamming the beer onto the coffee table, her posture now upright and on high alert. Her breathing was ticking up, with the panic of Carina being in danger. “What?! Why? What-”
“Your wife is broken.”
The words hit her like a punch to the gut. Her breath catches, her body stills, but only for a moment. “What?!” she stammers, already grabbing her shoes. “What do you mean, broken? What happened?”
Her voice rises, frantic and desperate, her eyes darting between the phone, her keys, and the trio of Peggy, Dayna, and Liam. Peggy and Dayna stand now, their expressions mirroring her worry. Liam’s squealing laughter came to a halt the second he heard the panic in his Mom’s voice, immediately on alert for his Mama through the phone.
“What happened, Amelia?” Maya demands, tugging her coat on with shaking hands. “Is she okay? Is the baby okay?”
Maya knew that Carina had been working with a painstaking Mama and her twin boys all day, bleeding in from the days prior. It was a nightmare all around from what Carina had described. And if her wife was broken, then something for sure went to shit. And Carina’s biggest fear, the thing that clipped her at the knees and wrecked her for weeks, was losing a mama or a baby. Her wife had an impeccable record, one to be celebrated, but it made the tragedies and the unthinkables just that more devastating.
It seemed like the more their family developed, since the trying for a baby became adopting a baby and trying with Maya’s baby tools, Carina had grown more and more weary, cautious and distraught around her job. The hypervigilance was not aiding to her already fragile and morning sickness-riddled frame.
Add in a pregnancy that was kicking her ass, and you’ve got a recipe for disaster. She was sick every morning, still, with stress and nausea and her hormones had never once settled down, though Maya suspected that was just her wife, unrelated to pregnancy but she wouldn’t dare be stupid enough to mention it.
She mentioned taking a break approximately once.
It resulted in a scolding and death glare so furious Maya about peed her pants. Maybe that was the shots, and the lingering hormones Maya had been off talking, either way she gulped down and mumbled a swift I’m sorry, never to mention it again.
Carina was pregnant enough to take the leave Teddy was demanding of her, but Carina was Carina, and this was the last patient she took before she knew she would be taking leave, she herself about to pop out a Christmas Capricorn miracle of their own.
Maya fumbles with her coat, her shoes, the phone, her keys. Dayna lands at her side, pulling the phone away from her ear and flipping it on speaker so Maya could get dressed. Amelia’s voice is rushed but measured. “She’s exhausted, Maya. She’s okay. Just… Just get here. Only you can fix this.”
Maya’s chest tightens, her hand gripping the doorframe as she freezes for a split second, overwhelmed by too many thoughts colliding at once. But Dayna is already moving toward her, calm and steady.
“Maya,” Dayna says softly, placing a hand on her elbow. “Go. Run. You’re faster than any car stuck in traffic. It’s a mess out there. We’ll get Rose and Liam down for the night and stay here until you’re back. He’ll be fine. We’ve got him.”
Maya blinks, her blurry eyes locking on Dayna’s calm, reassuring face. She nods sharply, pressing a quick, desperate kiss to Liam’s head before she tears out the door.
The cold wind bites her cheeks, but she doesn’t feel it. Her legs pump beneath her, each stride fueled by fear and adrenaline. The world around her is a blur of lights and snowflakes as she sprints toward Grey-Sloan Memorial, her thoughts singular and urgent: Carina.
Maya Bishop has never run faster in her life.
Her legs pump against the asphalt as her heart hammers in her chest, the cold December air biting against her cheeks. Christmas traffic be damned; nothing will keep her from Carina. Amelia’s words replay in her head like a broken record: “Your wife is broken.”
The image it conjures—Carina, stuck in her scrubs, silent, catatonic, stuck after the loss of a patient—spurs Maya faster, the weight of her panic propelling her forward. She barely registers the honks of irritated drivers or the uneven cracks in the sidewalk. The hospital looms ahead, glowing and intimidating, and Maya doesn’t slow until she bursts through the doors, her breath ragged.
“Firefighter Barbie reporting for duty,” Amelia smirks tiredly as Maya screeches to a halt in the maternity wing.
“Where is she?” Maya pants, hands braced on her knees.
Amelia’s grin softens into something gentler. “In the lounge on the NICU floor. She’s okay, just… overloaded. Stuck in Italian. No subtitles.”
Maya’s breath catches in her throat. Stuck in Italian? She moves past Amelia without another word, weaving through the halls until she finds Carina sitting stiffly in a chair, her pregnant belly round beneath the faded scrubs, her hands resting atop it. Her eyes are glassy, her lips trembling with words Maya doesn’t understand.
“Amore,” Maya says softly, her voice cracking as she kneels in front of her wife. “What hurts, my love?”
Carina’s gaze flickers to Maya, the words spilling out in rapid Italian. Maya catches enough to piece it together:
one of the twins… cord wrapped… rushed… fear.
I don’t know.. Safe… I can’t
Tears cascade down Carina’s cheeks as she presses her hands protectively against her belly. Maya’s heart shatters at the sight.
“Oh, my love.” Maya reaches for her hands, pressing them firmly on her own. “We’ll call Jo for updates. Right now, I’m taking you home.”
Carina protests weakly, mumbling about game night and charts, but Maya scoops her up effortlessly. Maya grumbles, stopping her march and looking down at Carina’s bump and back up to her, a silent lecture to let Maya hold her, to let her take control right now. Carina nods her head weakly, mumbling something about ruining the evening. Maya hushes her with a kiss to her temple. Carina barely reacts, too exhausted to argue, though she does manage a soft, teasing dig.
They pass Amelia on their way out, mouthing a silent Thank you her direction before exiting the warm hospital and into the bitter cold. Carina shivers against Maya’s chest, tucking in further.
“You’re sweaty,” Carina mutters in Italian, her head lolling against Maya’s shoulder.
“I ran,” Maya replies simply. “You call, I run.”
“You only ran here so you could drive the Porsche.”
Maya huffs, her lips twitching despite the heaviness in her chest. “Are you doubting my ability to outrun traffic?”
Carina snorts softly, resting her head against Maya’s shoulder. “Never. But I am doubting your ability to hide your boner for the Porsche.”
“Well,” Maya deadpans, “it is half the reason I married you.” Maya smiles as they reach the car, the cold air seemingly breaking her out of her state of catatonia and back into the English language for a bit.
Carina rolls her eyes, the faintest hint of a smile gracing her lips. It’s enough to ease the tightness in Maya’s chest. She kisses Carina’s temple before buckling her into the passenger seat, her hand lingering on the curve of her belly.
“Nugget, I’m gonna need you to be firmer when Mama is stubborn okay? Tell her to sit, to rest?” Maya whispers to her belly, “You’re my eyes out here when I’m around. And it’s me and you bub, I’m outnumbered by her and Liam, okay?” She says completely serious, pecking a soft smooch to Carina’s belly.
“Stupido.” Carina chuckles as Maya rounds the car, “Nooooo, my name’s Maya!”
Their giggles fade to comfortable silence as they drive home in traffic, Carina fading in and out against the window of the Porsche, barely able to keep her head up.
~
The house is quiet when they arrive, the soft glow of the Christmas tree illuminating the living room. Peggy is sitting on the couch, a half-empty mug of tea in her hands, watching the flickering lights. She looks up as Maya carries Carina inside, her face softening with relief.
"Liam’s down," Peggy whispers, rising to meet them. "Dayna took Rose home, so I stayed."
Carina, still cradled in Maya’s arms, stirs. “I want to see him,” she mumbles in Italian, her exhaustion making her words heavier.
Peggy shakes her head gently. “He’s sound asleep, Carina. You don’t want to wake him, trust me. He needs his rest, and so do you.”
Carina frowns, guilt flashing across her face. “I ruined Christmas Eve,” she says, her voice breaking slightly.
Maya shifts her grip, settling Carina on the couch for a moment. “You didn’t ruin anything,” she replies firmly, brushing a kiss against her forehead. “We’ll reschedule. Game night isn’t going anywhere.”
“I don’t want to ruin game night,” Carina insists, her Italian spilling out faster now. “I’ll shower, and I’ll come down. It’s fine.”
Maya crouches in front of her, gently taking her hands. “Babe, you’re exhausted,” she says softly, a teasing smile tugging at her lips as she giggles. “And I don’t think Peggy and Dana understand Italian.”
Peggy chuckles lightly from the doorway. “We’ll do this again soon,” she assures Carina, her voice kind but firm. “Right now, you need rest. Maya’s got you.”
Carina doesn’t argue this time, leaning into Maya as she helps her upstairs. Maya retrieves the baby monitor from Peggy before bidding her a warm goodnight. Maya plops Carina on the toilet, turning the bath on scalding hot, Carina’s favorite temperature. Maya’s heart twinges as she sees Carina’s head resting in her hands, shoulder shaking slightly with silent tears.
Maya returns, kneeling to softly slip off Carina’s shoes, then her socks. She presses a kiss to each ankle before guiding her to stand, slowly undressing her with careful hands and whispered reassurances.
“You’re so good to me,” Carina murmurs, her voice thick with emotion.
“Always,” Maya replies simply, kissing her shoulder before helping her into the warm, bubble-filled bath.
Carina sighs deeply as the water envelopes her, the tension in her back and shoulders beginning to ease. She leans her head back, watching Maya move about the room with a quiet efficiency.
Maya steps out to check on Liam, peeking into his room to see him sound asleep, his tiny body curled up under a soft blanket, his little sleep frown so absolutely Carina it made her crack up a little. A smile breaks across her face, and she lingers for a moment before returning to the bathroom.
She groans slightly as she slips in the tub behind Carina, her own muscles worn and weathered from the onslaught of overtime at the station. She wraps herself around Carina, hands lingering on her belly as she mumbles into Carina’s shoulder blade with squished cheeks, unable to get their bodies literally any closer.
“Pizza’s on the way,” Maya announces, her cheek resting against Carina’s damp hair.
Carina tilts her head back, her eyes glistening. “Marry me?”
Maya chuckles, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I would. Over and over.”
“Te amo, Bambina,” Carina whispers.
“Sempre,” Maya replies, squeezing her tighter.
Carina begins to cry softly, her tears falling into the bathwater. Maya shifts to look at her, worry flashing in her eyes. “Why are you crying, amore?”
“I miss Liam,” Carina says, her voice cracking.
Maya chuckles, turning her head slightly and looking at Carina from the side, “Babe, he’s next door. It’s okay. We’ll rinse off and kiss him goodnight.”
Carina sniffles, nodding, but the tears don’t stop.
“Shhh. You’re thinking too loud. Just let go.” Maya’s heart clenches at the vulnerability in Carina’s voice. She snakes her arms around Carina, sliding her hands under her belly to take its weight off her back. “Here,” she says softly. “Let me help.”
Carina cries harder, her body relaxing into Maya’s hold. “We’ve got a big day tomorrow. We need to rest and relax.”
Carina turns her face slightly, questioning Maya.
“Yep, we do.” Maya says through a bright and excited smile. “Banana pancakes, a walk to the bakery, opening our gifts and I’ll give you a foot massage while you chart from home.”
Their soft, tender moment is quickly cut off by Carina’s frown, followed shortly by an angry jab to Maya’s ribs.
“Owww! What is that for?” Maya cries out, rubbing a hand over the contact point.
“Why are you mad at me? I just offered you banana pancakes. It’s like illegal to be mad at me for that.” Maya plays, smiling when Carina steams in front of her.
“You’re too good to me,” she growls, her voice trembling. “And I have all these crazy bones in me, and I’m bloated and huge and emotional, and you ran to save me, and I don’t deserve you-”
Carina’s rant is very quickly cut off by the doorbell, Maya rolling her eyes as Carina remains angry, watching Maya get dressed in a robe. Maya gently lifts Carina’s arms to rinse her before stepping out to grab the pizza. She returns with the box and a playful grin.
“Can we just eat it here?” Carina asks, her eyes red but hopeful, her mood completely changed with the offering of greasy pizza.
“Naked? Pizza? Your beautiful, beautiful body against mine, this belly, those stretch marks?” Maya teases, slipping out of her bathrobe and glancing to the sky.
“Have I died and gone to heaven?”
Carina rolls her eyes, splashing her with bubbles. “You’re ridiculous.”
Maya leans down, her grin softening as she kisses Carina gently, shoving a piece of pizza into her face, and ripping a bite off for herself.
She chuckles through a mouthful of pizza,
“Every day is heaven with you.”
~