The 2nd Day Drives you Away
There’s a certain feeling of anguish when you realize no one is there for you. None that want to be, at least. The people that spare you a few words, simply doing it out of duty to someone else.
The person who was once your best friend now sees you as an obligation. It makes you wonder if they ever even considered you their best friend in the way that you did with them. Andy was the closest thing to a true friend that Maya’s ever had, and yet Andy sees Maya as just a piece in the game of life. Sometimes a supportive asset, other times a piece in the way of her goals.
So on the 2nd day of the 5150 hold, Maya really shouldn’t be surprised when no one visits. It doesn’t matter if they are scheduled on shift; when a firefighter is down, the department gives leeway if the other members request it. So the fact that no one comes means that no one wants to. No one at Station 19 feels any real concern for Maya, at least not enough to even send a meaningless text.
Not even guilt.
Visitors in the hospital are there for one of two reasons. Genuine care and concern, or guilt. Guilt if they feel they are the reason that the person got hurt. Guilt if they left things on a bad note.
But no one visiting Maya means that no one cares nor feels guilty. She isn’t surprised by no one caring, that’s been established. But no one feels guilty? No one felt remorse for the months of harassment, of standing by when she was falling apart?
Maya knows that she is not blameless. She knows that this is all her fault. But she was prepared for the people who treated her like shit to show up and at least try to take some of the blame. To say, “Hey, I’m sorry for not seeing what was happening. I’m sorry for making it worse.”
So when none of that happens? Yeah, anguish.
Because how does one reconcile with that? She doesn’t expect Carina to come back. She doesn’t expect Ross, or Beckett, or Sullivan. But how does she reconcile with the fact that her family from the past couple years doesn't see her as such? Andy, Ben, Vic, Travis? Hell, even Jack and Theo?
Andy is the only one who at least makes some effort, and even that is abysmal. It’s the mandatory, “I tried to help but you pushed me away”. It’s the unsaid but implied, “I want to be Captain of 19, so officially I have to make sure you are alive, and that your injuries were self-inflicted so you can’t sue the department.”
It’s hard for Maya to not wish she was hurt in a fire rather than on the treadmill. If she was left behind in a fire, at least then some people would get in trouble for how she’s been neglected by her coworkers. At least then, she’d have been doing something heroic, and would have been a winner.
Maybe then she would have died.
Is that so wrong to wish for?
She would be allowed to rest in the clouds. She’d get a formal firefighter send-off. Carina could be sad for a week but then move on with someone less broken. Andy could become Captain and stop hating her. Theo could stop helping her out of guilt for Michael, Travis’ husband. Ben could stop feeling conflicted about choosing sides because he knew Carina first. Mason could live his life without being compared to her. Maya wouldn’t have had the chance to scream those awful things to Carina. Everyone’s life would become better without her in it.
Instead she’s stuck in the hospital bed, staring out the window into the clouds, with her only visitors being doctors and nurses who are legally required to take care of her. Teddy, who right now is tasking her interns on deciding if Maya needs an NG tube. Bailey comes once or twice, surely regretting ever trusting Maya to keep her husband safe.
Everyone complains that Maya brushed them off the past couple months, claiming that they tried to talk to her but she drove them away. But where are they now? Now that Maya can’t leave, can’t deny that something is wrong? If Maya drove them away, then why didn’t they push back.
Why couldn’t anyone in her life try for more than a couple failures? Trying doesn’t always have to mean pushing, yet all anyone tried was pushing, pushing, pushing until she snapped. No one just sat quietly, held her hand, and told her that it’s okay if she wasn’t ready. Maya has always been eyes forward, constantly moving, full steam ahead. And throughout her life when people were concerned, they asked her to slow down, not focusing on only the end goal. And yet the one time she needed people in her corner, they were the ones rushing her. Demanded that she immediately be better, just suddenly snap out of it as if all of this was her own choice.
To everyone around her, they didn’t want Maya to take the time and actually be better. They just wanted instant recovery. First she’s too much, now she’s not enough.