Baby Steps

It was quiet.
Too quiet.
Eerily quiet.

Maya sighed. Desk duty sucked. Desk duty at 7 o’clock at night while everyone else was out on a call really, truly, sucked. It gave her time to think and the last thing she wanted was more time to think. She thought at home in her empty apartment, she thought when she should’ve been sleeping because her brain simply refused to turn off, she thought in the shower, she thought in the grocery store and in the car and in the empty station. Her weekly therapy session had been on her lunch break today and that was more than enough thinking for one day. It left her feeling raw and exposed. As if anyone looking her way could see straight into the mess in her head. As if they could see all her failings written on her face. 

She wanted to be out on the call with her team doing what she was good at - well . . . she wanted to want to be out with her team. Everything around her was a mess, but firefighting…. firefighting didn’t change. Firefighting was good. She was good at firefighting. She wasn’t good at much else these days. Hell, she wasn’t even good at firefighting right now, but she could do it and she could do it to textbook perfection. Just as described in the numerous thick binders of procedures, codes, rules and regulations she’d read several times each. Usually. Once her physical therapist cleared her ankle. But dammit if every single file, piece of paper and equipment in this fire station wasn’t more organized and cleaner than it had ever been. It was all she could do right now which meant it got her full focus.

Diane thought her ankle was fine. Well, not fine. No one would deny that Maya had done irreparable damage to it when she ran her Olympic race on it sprained and without ever taking the time to rest and let it heal it just kept getting reinjured run after run, year after year, but Diane didn’t think it was bad enough to be causing the kind of issues it was on its own. 

It was psychosomatic. Maya rolled her eyes. In her head. (Yeah, that one stung she wouldn’t lie about that. It had taken all of her strength and focus to not immediately walk out of that therapy session.) Diane didn't come right out and say it was in her head. Of course she packaged it up with prettier words, but that was the jist of it. And that Maya wasn’t truly ready to get back to active duty yet. It wasn’t anything she was consciously doing, Diane had said, had made sure Maya understood, but she strongly believed that once Maya’s head wasn’t such a jumbled mess as Maya frequently described, that her ankle would feel a hell of a lot better.

Her feet itched to run.

Maya ignored it. As she had been for weeks now. She didn’t give into that pull. Her sessions with Diane, while excruciating more often than not, had been eye opening. She had never felt more in tune with her body, her mind…. her spirit, she figured. Whatever getting in tune with your spirit meant. She wasn’t quite sure, but she was sure she was doing it. It was amazing what one could learn when they stopped pushing everything way deep down. And absolutely petrifying. 

Right. Enough of that for right now. Time to get up and do something.

But what?

The call everyone was out on had come in a couple of hours ago, just before dinner so everyone would be hungry when they got back. Which should be soon. Travis had radioed in not long ago saying they were finishing up, so…. dinner! She could finish dinner. When everyone ran off on the call Maya had prepped some chicken breasts. Nothing hard - she just threw them in some milk and lemon juice and put them in the fridge.

It was nothing fancy and she knew everyone would be hungry enough to scarf down anything, but she wanted to impress them. It has been so long since anyone beside Diane had said she had done anything well. That she had done a good job. And yeah, maybe she hated the part of her that craved validation so badly, but what could you do? Therapy wouldn’t fix her overnight. It was a hard realization when she first had the thought that therapy may never fix her at all.

Diane had been having her try new things as a way to get out of your head and into your hands. So that she didn’t keep things bottled up. As a way not to turn to literally trying to run away from her problems. No matter how many miles she put on the treadmill or how fast she ran through the streets, she couldn’t escape her thoughts and feelings and she was learning not to try to. To own those thoughts and feelings. To sit with them. To feel them. To work through and accept them. To understand. Diane was also trying to get her to see that she could create something. To get Maya to see that she wasn’t all chaos and destruction. The therapist wasn’t as sneaky as she thought she was, but it also embraced Maya’s need for control and channeled into something positive. If she set out to make a meal, she could choose what to eat, she could choose the ingredients, she could choose how to prepare it and cook it and serve it. It was something small, yes, but it gave Maya something that she could control. 

Baby steps.

It was either cooking or journaling her feelings and yeah...she'd much rather dig her eye out with a spoon.

Plus, her arteries couldn’t survive living off of takeout. With the choice between takeout or cooking it had been takeout. With the choice between cooking or nothing it had been nothing. The first few days after she was released from the hospital, she hadn’t eaten at all. The kitchen seemed too far away from where she had parked herself on the couch in the living room and picking up her phone to order something meant being reminded of the lack of communication between her and her wife, so it was easier to just not eat. 

Thankfully the people of Station 19 had stepped up to help. Once a day someone came over and while they were over they would make a meal for them to share. Maya knew it was just to make sure she ate something, but it was what started her journey into the culinary arts. Eventually she burrowed out of her cocoon and would join whoever was over that day in the kitchen. It wasn’t like she hadn’t had the time for cooking now. It was usually Andy, Vic or Travis who came over, but she had seen everyone at some point or another. Except Captain Beckett. He had enough sense in him to stay away. Jack only came when someone else was there. Which was fine. 

Diane had her seeing a nutritionist. Maya’s relationship with food was…complicated. Her father had often used it as a punishment, so there was that she had to work on too. After a while she found she didn’t mind too much. Cooking seemed like more effort than it was worth at the end of a long shift when she was sore and exhausted and just wanted to sleep, but she had time now. She wasn’t working those kinds of shifts. Cooking filled the apartment with sound - pans sizzling, things boiling, timers going off. Maya needed that. Not that she would ever admit it to Diane, but cooking did help her get out of her head. For a time, at least. 

The fact that she had mostly been focusing on learning to cook Italian dishes was nobody's business but her own.
(She was also pretty sure she had finally learned how to make espresso. Her friends weren’t picky Italians, but they’d said it was good.)

With an eagle eye on the recipe Maya set to work combining flour, salt, pepper, Italian seasoning (which she may or may not have taken from a stash Carina had in their apartment that she homemade herself) and powdered sugar. Once the chicken was drained of the marinade it had been resting in, she coated each piece liberally with the floury mixture. Each piece got a little dip in the skillet before going in the oven. While the chicken was baking, she added the pasta to the boiling pot beside the skillet. The recipe called for linguini, but there was spaghetti in the cabinet and that was close enough.

Hungry firefighters sure wouldn't care.

With the chicken and pasta cooking she added olive oil, tomatoes and garlic to the skillet. After a few minutes she added cornstarch and once that was mixed, the chicken broth. 

Surprisingly Maya liked to cook. With the time for it, she found she truly enjoyed it. Maybe when she was back to active duty it would be different, but for now it was something to do which she desperately needed. It was weeks after her discharge before she returned to work. Diane cleared her to return to desk duty after their first therapy session, but Maya hadn't been ready. For the first time in her life, she didn't rush herself back to work. It was a solid month before she felt that she was in the right headspace. Not to fight fires or tend to medical emergencies yet - that she definitely was not ready for - but she could push paperwork around and clean and organize, treat little things that walked in. So, in her massive amounts of spare time, she was learning to cook. Might even need to buy a separate freezer. Recipes did not plan for one person and being just her at home there was a lot of extra food.

Eating was a need and cooking filled that need. It calmed the racing thoughts in her mind because it was very technical. Each step had to be paid attention to or the whole recipe could be off. To someone who knew how to cook and had been cooking for years it was a lot easier, but Maya focused on it like she had when memorizing the station’s rules books.

Cooking wasn’t one of her love languages like it was Carina’s, but it was a process. There was a beginning, a middle, an end. There were steps to follow, things to choose and while she felt like so much of her life was up in the air it was grounding. It was helpful. It was useful. She could make a meal for her team and do something productive with her time. It was comforting to slip into the order of it all. 

She grabbed another bowl and mixed the remaining cornstarch with milk and gave it a good whisk before adding it to the bubbling skillet and whisking it all together. Then she added the remaining ingredients - spinach, cream, salt and pepper. Once that was mixed she reduced the heat to simmer and added parmesan cheese. 

Just as she finished draining the pasta she heard the barn doors opened.

“Perfect timing”

The table was set with plates, utensils and glasses with the food steaming in the middle just as everyone came up the stairs.

“Holy hell what is that smell?” Travis said, making a b-line to the food.

“Maya this looks and smells amazing.” Andy said a little too softly for Maya’s liking. Since the hospital Andy had been too soft around her. As if she hadn’t gone from Maya’s best friend to her harshest critic when Maya had been promoted to Captain over her. Maya could be honest with herself and say their friendship had never repaired from that. From the looks and the touches and the soft words lately, Andy knew it too. Maybe it couldn’t be fixed, but at the very least they had to work together. At some point they would have to sit down and talk about it, but not right now.

Maya returned Vic’s grateful smile and let herself be pulled down to sit beside her. In some ways it felt good to sit here. Among her team, her friends, her family…. well at one point she considered that. She and Diane had only begun to brush the surface of all that had gone down at the station the past few years. It wasn’t their fault, Maya knew that. Or it wasn’t just their fault. They all fucked up. Herself included. She pushed everyone away, but they let her. They didn’t care. When she was Captain, they made things stupidly difficult for her. It felt like a lifetime ago, but it still hurt. When Jack was drowning Andy made sure to rally around him and didn’t stop until they got him back, but they didn’t do that for Maya. It hurt. She was tired of pretending it didn’t. 

But these were the only people she had right now. And they were trying. That mattered.

“Did Carina make this? . . Ow!”

Andy dropped her hand down below the table, shaking it out as Jack rubbed the back of his head. To his credit he did look genuinely sorry. Maya got it. She understood. Carina had become a part of this little family too.

“No,” Maya shook her head, but refused to look up. It hurt too much. To know they know what she had done to herself. To know they knew what a train wreck her marriage was, her life was. “No, I did.”

“It’s really good Maya, thank you,” Theo said with a smile.

“My compliments to the chef,” Sullivan added. 

“Umm so if you’re going to start cooking like this I’m moving back in,” Andy joked.

“Me too.” Vic said around a mouthful of food.

Maya had been back for a few shifts now and had cooked a few times. The first time she'd tried to make Carina's lasagna. Carina had showed her how a few times, but someone had changed the timer and she ended up taking it out of the oven too early. Way too early. Thankfully everyone noticed before anyone got sick and Maya put it back in the oven. It had almost been a catastrophe, but it wasn't. 

Conversation flowed after that; Jack’s little outburst ignored. It felt good. It felt good to cook for her friends even if her relationship with every single one of them was strained. It felt good to help. It felt good to be praised. It felt good to be able to talk to people without worrying about saying or doing the wrong thing. It almost felt like old times and Maya felt her shoulders relaxing. Even if they weren’t completely, at least there was one place Maya could pretend things were okay. With a smile on her face, she tucked into her meal and let the sounds flow around her.

Her peace lasted a whole seventeen minutes.

“Hello? Hi. Um…is Maya here?”

Maya’s head whipped up at the sound of a voice she hadn’t heard in years. “Mason?”

“Hey sis”

Maya looked up at her brother in shock. It had been years since she’d seen him. She'd looked. Several times, but had never been able to find him. Honestly ignorance may have been better than the sight in front of her. The sight of her brother, shaky and sweaty, his hair and clothes a mess, eyes jumping around the room like he expected something to jump out at him, with a screaming baby in his arms-

A baby??

“Can we talk?”

Maya looked down at the bundle in her arms. The baby’s skin was red and blotchy, hair completely soaked with sweat as was their tiny body that was only dressed in a (dirty) diaper and a standard hospital newborn blanket. With each suck on the bottle Maya felt little tense muscles relax.

“Mase what the hell?” This poor baby was a mess, but the most pressing need had been to get them fed. Mason couldn’t remember the last time he gave them a bottle and with the mass of brown hair soaked in sweat and plastered to its head, Maya immediately noticed the soft spot was much more sunken in than it should be. Once the bottle was finished Maya would get a clean diaper and blanket and dry the baby off. “I know we don’t have much experience with babies, but this is not okay.” Thankfully Maya was a firefighter, a paramedic, and had training to deal with this exact situation. 

“I know! I know Mai, okay? That’s why I came here!”

Maya took a breath. Mason had come here for help. He had come to a fire station - to her - for help. He had asked for help. “That’s good Mason. Thank you for bringing them here.”

“Her,” Mason corrected. “It’s a girl. Carly. Carly…uh…something Bishop” He looked up and squinted at the lights, his eyes searching. “Shit I don’t know her middle name.”

“Carly is a pretty name.” Maya smiled, trying to be as comforting as possible and not judge her brother for not knowing his own child’s name. After the year she has had she was the last person who could judge anyone right now.

“Yeah, I dunno. Her mom named her,” Mason ran a hand through his hair and sat down across from Maya. They were in the lounge. Everyone else either cleaning up from dinner or in the showers. “She’s mine,” he said. “I know you’re wondering.”

“You’re a father” It’s not that Maya hadn’t guessed as much given the baby had Mason’s hair color and his eyes and was with him. It was just that . . . her baby brother was a parent. She took a moment to really look at her brother. Since he got here her attention had been on the baby, but now that she truly took in her brother’s appearance and his movements, how his eyes keep looking everywhere and nowhere at the same time, how he keeps ringing his hands, the nonstop tapping of his foot…. Any hope she had that he wasn’t still using flew out the window. 

“Where are you living now, Mason?”

“I took her to a hotel last night. I have it for tonight too, but I can’t stay long.” 

He was still homeless. 

He was still homeless and still on drugs and had a baby…

“Um,” Maya cleared her throat,” Well congratulations!” Maybe? Maya wasn’t sure what to say, but you generally congratulate someone when they become a parent, right? Judging by the look on her brother’s face, maybe not.

“Yeah,” Mason looked away. There was no fatherly pride in his voice, no warmth or love in his eyes, no excitement. Not that Maya could blame him. They hadn’t had the best role models for parental love growing up, but Carina had got her to see that she was not her parents. That she was not her father. She could help Mason see that too.  “She was born on Monday.”

3 days ago. 

If Carly and her mother were discharged the typical two days after birth that would’ve put them coming home yesterday. At the hospital they would’ve made sure she was healthy and had eaten regularly so Maya was pretty sure Carly would be okay once they got fluid into her. Hopefully the formula would do it, but if not, they had an ambulance right downstairs that would get them to help quickly. In all her infant training it was stressed multiple times during every lesson how dangerous dehydration in newborns was which was a good part of the reason Maya was so furious with her brother. Even she knew newborns had to eat very frequently before her training.

“I went to the hospital when she was born. I met her, signed the birth certificate, but when visiting hours were over I left and didn’t go back. Two days later they were discharged from the hospital and her Mom dropped her with me, stuck a needle in her arm and OD’d. Sammi…. uh Samantha Carson. You can look it up. There’s a police report. No one’s gonna claim her body though so I’m not sure what they do with that.” 

“I’m sorry Mase”

Mason waved her off. “We weren’t that close. We had a thing,” he gestured to the baby in Maya’s arms. “Obviously, but we were never together. I knew she was pregnant, and a baby was coming, my baby was coming, but I dunno. I had shit going on. She had shit going on so before Carly was born I hadn’t seen her in like six months. . . I think that was always her plan. To drop the baby with me and OD. Luckily she waited until after Carly was born.”

There was a question on the tip of Maya’s tongue, but she didn’t want to put more on her brother when he was very clearly barely keeping it together. He had had a life changing couple of days. If she were in her shoes and after all that someone asked, what are you going to do?,  she might just lose what little bits of sanity she could see her brother clinging to. So she let the silence envelop them. 

Maya wanted her wife every second of every day, but with this baby in her arms she truly felt that she needed her wife by her side. Deep down on a cellular level.

“They’re running a paternity test anyway just to make sure."

“Who is?”

“Some social worker. Her card is in the bag,” He explained, pointing to the small plastic shopping bag he had brought with him. “She wants you to call her.”

“Who does?” Maya asked, confused, setting the bottle down and putting Carly on her shoulder to burp her. She was getting wiggly, but was still showing signs that she was hungry so Maya hoped this would help. 

“The social worker.”

Maya was even more confused. “Why would she want me to call her?"

Mason looked away, but Maya gave him time to get his thoughts together. “Mom said you’re married,”

“You talked to Mom?” Maya looked from her niece to her brother, so very confused, but continued patting Carly’s little back.

“Is he a nice guy?”

Maya chuckled, settling the baby back in her arms to finish the bottle now that she got a few good burps out of her, smiling as she immediately latched back on and started drinking like a champ. “Ah…well…What did Mom tell you?”

“Just that you got married.” Mason shrugged. There was no hurt in her brother’s voice, no care at all. Maya felt bad. Of course she did. If she had been able to find him she absolutely would have invited him to her wedding, but he did a pretty good job of staying hidden.

“I did get married, yes, but not to a guy,” If that surprised her brother he didn't show it. He wasn’t showing much tonight except the need for another fix of whatever he was on. “But my wife is the nicest person I’ve ever met. Way too good for me. Here,” she nodded toward her phone on the table between them.

Mason picked up the phone and saw the picture Maya had on her lock screen of her and Carina on their wedding day. “Damn. Respect,” he joked, putting the phone back, but when he looked back up at his sister his face was sincere. “You two look very happy.”

What a punch to the gut.

“Does she want kids?”

And another.

“Yeah, she does. We do. We’ve been trying it’s just…. taking a little longer than we anticipated. We’re taking a little break right now.” It was only with Diane that Maya had shared how all the negative pregnancy tests affected her. How trying month after month, of watching Carina take these shots that set her every emotion on edge and left horrible bruises, of losing again and again and again as they failed to get pregnant truly affected her. How she already felt that she was failing because she couldn’t physically give her wife a baby. They couldn’t make a mix of them in the warmth and safety and love of their bed. They couldn't make a mix of them at all. No, they needed science and syringes and pillows and the best sample of some random Joe they picked off the internet who looked great on paper, but could be a massive asshole in real life. It was clinical and passionless and Maya hated it. She hated it and it wasn’t until a session with Diane that those feelings came out. 

“So, great." Mason said, interrupting her spiraling thoughts. "That’s great then. You can take her.”

“Um,” Maya wasn’t sure if she didn’t want to understand or if her brain truly wasn’t catching on. “Yeah. I mean, of course Mason. Do you want to get some sleep? Newborns are hard. My wife, she's an OB and she's told me stories...." Mason wasn't interested so she shook her head and kept her thoughts to herself.  "Do you want me to take her for the night? Or a few days?”

“Maya where am I gonna take her, huh? We both know I don’t have a stable place to live. Sometimes I can get a room somewhere, but it’s never for very long.”

“Mason I would be more than happy to have you come stay with me-”

“No,” Mason said firmly. “I can make it on my own. I’m fine out there.” Maya watched as he scratched at the inside of his elbow and knew that wasn’t true. “But it’s not good for her. I'm not good for her. She can’t live like that. . .” He took a breath, looking across at his daughter with empty eyes. “I don’t just need you to watch her. I need you to keep her.”

Having finished the bottle and fallen asleep, Maya set the empty bottle down and held Carly tighter. This innocent child who didn’t ask to be here. Who had lost her mother and whose father didn’t want her either. Or maybe he did, but he was smart enough to know that the way he lived his life wasn’t safe for her. “Mason, this is a child. Your child. Not a puppy. You can’t just give her away .”

“You think I don’t know that?! I never wanted her. I never wanted to be a father. I showed up and I signed the birth certificate because I thought I could do it. I could try, because there’s no way I could be worse than our dad, right? But I can’t. Every cry makes me wanna use and so I did and I passed out and when I woke up, she was screaming. I don’t know what to do, Maya.”

The sound of her little brother in distress brought a lump to Maya’s throat. He was her baby brother. She was supposed to protect him, help him. She’d never been able to, though. It wasn't her fault. They had both been children and she had been under her father's thumb afraid to take a single step without permission. “You know Mase I didn’t want kids, either. But Carina, my wife, she does. She got me to believe that I could do it. That I could be a mom. That I could be a great mom. I can help you. Whatever you need-”

“I don’t want help, Maya!”

The loud noise woke the baby who immediately startled and started crying, turning her little body into Maya’s chest seeking out whatever comfort she could find. Maya held her close and gently bounced, softly shhhing the tiny cries.

“See, this is exactly my point. I’m not good for her. You take her. You and your wife can give her things I would never be able to.” Standing up, Mason looked around for a moment before finding his coat and quickly throwing it on. “Don’t tell her about me. Don’t raise her as her aunt. Be her mom, Maya.”

Maya could do little else but watch her brother get ready to leave. What was she supposed to say? No, this perfect innocent little life should be on the streets with you? Insist she stay with her father who just admitted to using and passing out while being her sole caretaker? She could push harder and try to get him to accept help, but where did that land her when people pushed her too hard? She nearly killed herself on the treadmill because she was just trying to run away from it all. Maya had no idea what the fuck she was going to do, but she knew her brother was right. It wasn’t safe for Carly to be with him.

“Uhh so I think you actually need to call the social worker. I talked to her earlier. She was trying to help me, but I think I’m kinda beyond help,” he said with a sad chuckle. A resigned chuckle.

Maya swallowed back her panic and nodded. “Yeah, yeah I will.”

Holy shit this was happening.
Ho-ly shit.

“And Mason?”

Mason stopped a few steps out the doorway, but didn’t turn around. “Yeah?”

“I’ll keep her safe. I promise.”

He turned back and gave his sister a sad smile. “I know you will. And for what it’s worth…your wife is right. You’ll be a great mom.”

Then he continued down the steps and out of the fire station.

Maya hated watching her brother go knowing he was going to use. Not knowing where he was going or when she would see him next, but she had been learning a lot about priorities and her priorities and how she had never quite had things in the right order. Right now she knew Carly had to be prioritized over everything else. Mason was a grown man who could make his own choices as much as those choices broke her heart. More than anyone Maya knew that he had to make his own choices. If he wanted to get help he needed to choose it. Forcing help on the Bishop children didn't go well. They had to crash and burn first.

With a deep breath Maya grabbed her phone off the coffee table and immediately called Carina. Things weren’t okay with them. It had been weeks since Carina came back to the apartment with the lame excuse of needing her shampoo (and, really?? Was that the best she could come up with? She was the one who bought it. She knew exactly where to get more so why did she need to go home for that? Was it to shove herself in Maya’s face? To show her what she couldn’t have? Or did she want to see Maya, but didn’t want to admit it? Maya really hoped it was the last one.) and Maya hadn’t seen or heard from her since. She tried. She’d sent countless texts, left voicemails, had even composed a few soul bearing handwritten letters in therapy that she sent, but none of it mattered. It had been radio silence on Carina’s end. 

Honestly Maya didn’t blame her. It was her own fault. Carina had tried. For the better part of a year, she had tried to get Maya to get help, but how could Maya explain what she had felt in those months? That every time Carina brought it up all she heard was Lane Bishop in her ear telling her what a screw-up she was? A loser. How weak she was. And that it all made her push Carina further away. 

So yes, she had pushed Carina away and she had ignored her and said a lot of things she didn’t mean and because of that her wife deserved all the time she needed. At least while she was taking some space that meant there was hope for them, right? No divorce papers had been drawn up, she hadn’t moved the rest of her things out of their apartment, she hadn’t given Maya back her key, hadn’t told Maya they were over. Until Carina looked Maya in the eye and told her that their marriage was over Maya held onto hope. Maybe it was pointless, but it was all she could do.

There was supposed to be time before she had a baby in her arms. Nine months to prepare - to read and research and make countless lists with bullet points and check marks. Not to have it thrust onto her with a five-minute conversation with her brother.

But right now there was no time for that. There was no time for freaking out. There was no time to think about the state of her marriage. Right now she had a baby in her arms she was supposedly responsible for now and it felt like the floor was disappearing under her and she needed her wife by her side. Carina would know what to do. 

But, as usual, Carina didn’t pick up. 
Which was fair.
Maya deserved that.
Carly didn’t, but Carina didn’t know about her. This little girl was only her niece, but Maya already knew she would burn the whole world to the ground to protect her. 
Were these maternal instincts? Her maternal instincts? She's not sure she thought she had them in her.

Taking deep breaths, Maya tried to focus, but dammit she was still relatively new to therapy. She’d had nowhere near the amount of time she needed to recondition her panic responses. There was a baby asleep in her arms. Possibly her baby, but at the very least she was responsible for her for the foreseeable future. And her wife didn’t want her. “What the hell am I gonna do?”