Where Are My Eyes If They're Not Forward?

27.

MASSIVE TRIGGER WARNING. I did not like writing this. Im sorry if it is too raw.

Carina.

When we get to the ER, I am ever so grateful for my status as a doctor at Grey Sloan. While a nurse tries (and fails) to triage Maya, I am able to show my ID badge quickly and take Maya to an exam room, one a little simpler than the normal trauma bays. There's just a gurney, a chair and the most basic of obs machines. I page the necessary people myself.

I sit with a chart on my lap, quickly signing Maya in, as she stands in the room wide eyed.

"Sit down Bella," I say but Maya continues to look at the gurney with fear.
"It's okay, Maya," I say but it is a lie. Nothing about this is okay.

I hold Maya's hand and she picks a spot on the wall to examine as her breath comes quickly.

"Hi guys, I'm going to take some obs quickly," Amelia says, poking her head through the door. She wasn't meant to be working, so didn't have any other responsibilities. I'm glad she chose to be here for my Maya. I kind of think she did it for me though.

"Just a pulse ox and blood pressure Maya."

My girlfriend gives no acknowledgement. Amelia gets to work. Blood pressure first- and the whirring of the machine takes some of the uncomfortable static from the room.

"Heart rate is very high," I observe, looking at the machine clipped to Maya's finger.

Amelia records the reading and frowns.
"Can you try and take some deep breaths Maya?"

I expect my girlfriend to bite back at Amelia with a snarky remark. Her defences are up. Instead, we receive a weak whimper.

"Alright," I assert, relatching myself to Maya's hand.

"She is very anxious Dr Shepherd. I don't think this can be remedied with some breathing techniques."

Amelia nods. "Psych are on there way as we speak. I'll provisionally order a low dose of PRN. Diazepam."

I nod.

"Add zolfram. Maya gets nauseated when she's scared."

There is conflict in Amelia's eyes.
"I just don't want to drug her up Dr Deluca."

I scoff, too harshly for what Amelia deserves, but I don't know how to regulate myself right now and I cannot placate more than one person at a time.

"And I don't want my girlfriend to be in pain."

Amelia smiles wryly.

As Amelia types the request into the tablet, I continue to rub soothing circles into Maya's hands and whisper quiet words of affirmation in Italian. I don't want her to think I am mad at her.  I tell her I am proud of her. That I love her. That things will get better. That pain never lasts forever.

"Miss Bishop?" We all turn to the door to meet the psychiatrist.

"Si, this is Maya." I smile at a colleague, Dr Danvers, someone I know from passing in the tunnels or in the canteen. There is a surprising overlap between psych and surgery though. A lot of trauma in both.

"You called psych?!" Maya says in a hushed whisper. Panicked. Like she doesn't want to be heard, but can't hide the fear from her voice.

"You know we had to Maya," I say, stroking her hair. "There would've been no point coming here if we didn't."

Maya tells me there was no point coming here at all. It doesn't phase me. We've had three of these arguments in the last hour or so.

"Carina take me home! Please!" She whimpers like a puppy and I want nothing more than to sweep my girl up and run away to Italy with her. That will not fix this.