Addison knows there's something wrong as soon as the page stops abruptly. The stairwell door opens, and her floor is silent, mourning. The suspicion solidifies as she approaches, the rest of a code team filing out. She pushes her palm to the door, pausing within the frame.
Kaira's back is to her, her usually rigid back slumped forward. Addison waits a few breaths, and then steels herself. The room is silent around them, the blinds pulled, and the door clicks softly shut before either of them speaks.
"Time of death, 11:26 am." Kaira's voice neither shakes, nor stutters. It's as though she's turned to ice. Addison approaches, and runs a hand up her spine.
They had woken wrapped around one another only a handful of hours ago. When she shuts her eyes, she can remember that first feeling of weight over her waist, fingers curled around her own. She's once again consumed by the way Kaira fits against her back, completely flush to her as she sighed softly against her neck with drowsiness.
Kaira finally sighs, as Addison's hands rub over her shoulders, pausing.
"I… had to give up on him." She rests her chin beside her hand, touching her nose to her cheek. Addison stayed silent, continuing to rub Kaira's arm. She understood, completely. The death of a child was nothing to turn their noses at, and Kaira… Was supposed to be robotic, mechanical.
"We did what we could." She finally acknowledges, closing her eyes against the urge to press her lips to Kaira's cheek, to console her in every way she physically, possibly could.
"I know the only one I was supposed to take out was-" Kaira's head tilts toward one of the brothers, and Addison ducks her nose to Kaira's shoulder, shielding her mouth from temptation. "But I just-" She's struggling for words, and it never truly gets easier. "I wanted to-"
"I do it too." She admits, softly. They're met with silence, and it settles over them as though it's a shield. "Not every time. But… Most… Times."
"Am I taking away from you? I'm sorry, I'll-" Addison smiles into her shoulder, shaking her head slightly.
"Though self- sacrifice looks good on you, I don't expect nor do I desire it." Kaira scoffs, and her back straightens slightly.
"Together then." And Addison's walking around them, wrapping her arms around both woman and infant. For a moment, when she looks up, everything's changed again. He's no longer dead. It's just the two of them, holding their infant. Together.
I love you.
It's the very first time she thinks about the words, and she's unlikely to forget this moment, for as long as they live. Because she's Addison Montgomery, she's supposed to have changed and not be falling into these habits again.
Yet as Kaira's head turns, and she has to remind herself to look away, she knows deep in the pit of her stomach it's only the first time of many she's going to think about saying it.
The second time is the same day, when they're seated outside for coffee, and Doctor Ahred comes by for a daily allotment of harassing. Addison's not sure which part of wit versus attitude brings the statement back to the forefront of her brain, yet suddenly it's there, suspended.
Third is in surgery, when Kaira's leadership through a code saves another life as she watches through the viewing window.
She's lost count by that evening, and though it's technically the next day, neither of them has slept yet when pent up emotions finally seep through, and the dam breaks. It's the reverse of the night before, with Kaira's head cradled ever so gently to Addison's breast, her arms locked tightly behind the redhead's back.
They're both there, under intense stress all day, if different, still equitable, and it's not Addison that's crying, but consoling.
It makes Kaira more beautiful to her, and she nearly cracks again.
Two days later, Addison starts her day much the same, crossing her arms as she enters the room. There's minor differences, as there are between most days.
There's one less cradle lit by monitor equipment.
Kaira's got her left leg up instead of the right one this time.
She's got two infants fast asleep on her, instead of just one.
"Don't you have a department to run?" Addison asks instead, as she reaches for a chart, lowering her glasses onto her nose.
"I'm running it. My schedules are done a month out." She tilts her head toward one stack of papers, pushed out of the way tidily. "The rotation for planned surgery, pit duty, and emergency is all set." A second stack. "Everyone's even notified. And all of my drug paperwork is caught up to date." There's a pause, and out of the corner of her eye, Addison can see her readjust one of the babies the slightest bit. "I don't think I've ever been this productive in my office. People love to walk in there at all times of day." Addison huffs.
"They do the same to me."
"Plus." Kaira continues, softer. "There's something to be said about the company." Addison looks up, catches her eye, and then her smile, and Kaira's rising. Addison replaces her chart, taking the offered infant, a hand dropping around her waist. "The babies are pretty cool, but-" Kaira pulls a strand of her hair, tucks it beneath her ear. "They've got nothing on their doctor." Addison flushes, and turns away.
"We need to go back to having meaningless sex." Because she's drowning, and Kaira's a life raft that she can't afford to lose.
"I'll raise you one, we could do both." She places the child back in his crib, as Addison moves to one of the cabinets. "Rough sex with meaning, and feelings."
"I wasn't aware we were having a debate." But Addison reaches forward, but the drawer's jammed, tilting her head to the side slightly. "Need some help?"
"Yea." She hums, and steps aside.
"Oh we're having a debate. But I've already won." Her lips twist into a smirk, and Addison has to try not to freeze. "Everyone likes human contact now and again. Even you."
"You're supposed to be the robot." She retorts.
"And the one that cried first. All I'm saying." She holds a clipboard out, and Addison takes it, forcing herself to unwillingly focus. "Is we can, I don't know, talk. Sometimes."
"Talking." She swallows. "Talking makes things messy."
"Like feelings."
"Like feelings."
"Or not using a condom." Addison chokes. "What, they're uncomfortable. For you too, clearly." She's been had, and instead of answering, she just pokes Kaira in the side of the head, gently.
"What are these for." She taps her fingers lightly over the top of her ears, where the shell of an earplug sits. Kaira raises a brow, and she shrugs. "I'm talking."
"Shits too loud. Suffered a head injury when I was a kid, sometimes it's sensitive. And it causes migraines." She tucks Addison's hair behind her ear, and the woman flushes.
"…loud?" Because all that's going through her head is the begging, nearly screaming, orgasm she's had that morning.
"Don't." Kaira's fingers brush the side of her neck, and her tone's low. "I like when you're loud." The hand moves to her spine, and Addison turns back. She wants to share, but the fear of this crumbling around her and falling apart is there, stopping her. "Addie." And the way she says the name is so soft, so gently, Addison can feel it in her chest again. "All I'm saying is I'll catch you if you fall. And I'm here when you're ready to talk. But, and don't take this the wrong way,"
It's coming. Addison can't help but thinking.
"This, between us, is anything but meaningless."