It hit Maggie once she recognized the familiar cramp that it was real, that the child she'd been expecting was really dead, as was her relationship with Gavin. The familiar blood reminding her of the time she bled out her child.
She'd been fond of Gavin – even loved him like a puppy-dog sort of way – but she'd never felt like he was fully committed, like he'd really go to bat for her. He'd felt too young, too inexperienced, too infatuated – but then, also, too skittish, too non-committal. And the dissolution of her pregnancy meant there was nothing keeping her with him, that she could leave. She liked Gavin – but not in a rest-of-her-life sort of way. She had this feeling that there was something missing. He was loving, but not passionate, and Maggie needed that wildness, that urgent desire to keep her sated.
Maggie was losing her mind a little though, without him, with reality creeping in.
Sydney wasn't affectionate – physically or verbally, so Maggie took note when Sydney all-too-casually rested her hand on Maggie's. Her advice earlier in the day hadn't been helpful, but this – Maggie knew Sydney must have dealt with a lot of miscarriages and was probably better equipped to deal with that fallout than a shrink – or the situation with David Zarb.
The way Sydney had dealt with David had been… unorthodox, Maggie thought to herself with a chuckle. But it showed who she was, how she dealt with things; with practicality and a bit too much fervour, but Sydney seemed to deal with Maggie a little differently than most things.
"Is it something I do alone?" Maggie asked, looking down at Sydney's hand covering her own, kind of hoping Sydney would offer to walk her through it, that she'd be able to finally say something comforting, although what she'd said about the hopes and dreams for the future had made sense, it still wasn't comforting.
"You can do it however you want, or you can not do it at all. Like I said, it's up to you." With that Sydney gave Maggie's hand a squeeze and stood up, gathered her ipad and went back to her office. She'd started hanging out in the doctor's longue just to keep an eye on Maggie, just to make sure her 'hormones' didn't make her do anything she would regret. Or so she told herself. It's not like she had any other reason to watch her resident.
In the same way that Dr Hamza sterilised his hands after a high five or any skin contact, Sydney usually brushed her hand on her thigh or her side, to wipe away that clammy skin feel of humanity. But Maggie's hand wasn't clammy but instead was warm and welcoming of Sydney's own hand and Sydney, for the first time in a very long time, didn't feel the need to wipe her hand on her coat. Instead she balled it into a fist, put it in her pocket as if she could tuck away the memory of how Maggie's hand had felt in her, thinking about the way Maggie had just… accepted the touch, raised her thumb to hold Sydney's hand with her own, absently brushing her thumb over Sydney's knuckles. Thinking about the warmth Maggie exuded, even from her hands, and again when Sydney had brushed against her to leave.
Sydney shut the door to her office, shook her head, took out her phone and sat at her desk.
"Hi, Herschel? I'm just calling back; our parents seem very keen on us going ahead with this. 7 will be fine. I'll see you then." Sydney hung up, sighed, and looked at her still-tingling left hand.
That night, after Maggie had showered and cooked dinner, watched some aimless talk show on the television in her ratty new apartment that she thankfully had to herself, she gathered up the few things she had started compiling for her baby, and a small box someone had given her as a child.
She wrote about what she'd hoped the future would look like with this child, this unborn, miscarried child she'd been so looking forward to not because it was Gavin's but because it was hers. She admitted that as a resident it would have been so difficult to carry to term and sit the boards, and return to the OR with an infant growing at home without her watching every precious moment. Perhaps it was too soon, but it didn't make her grieve any less.
She sealed the letter, closed the box, and thought of Sydney. She thought of Sydney's hand, so small on her own. She wondered what Sydney was doing, and if Sydney would have done this with her if Maggie had asked her to, frank commentary like 'those booties are far too big for a newborn, Maggie,' but a hand that reached for Maggie's own when she blew out the candle.
Dr Kalfas had inspired Maggie, and disappointed her. Her new boss was also inspiring, and awkward, and methodical, and Maggie really, really hoped her new mentor would be much more diligent and ethical than the last one. Maggie touched her mouth, remembering Kalfas' impropriety. At least there was no chance of that happening again. Maggie tapped her lips thoughtfully, stretched, blew out the candle and went to bed alone, relishing the extra room in her bed.
Author's note:
Interlude: Season 3, episode 3
Short, but hopefully sweet. I think Maggie was the catalyst for Sydney dating Herschel, and I'm not sure if Maggie started thinking about Sydney here or later, but it's a slow burn.