Chapter Text
Rocks. Signs. Shattered glass. Screams.
It had started off as a regular morning. That’s what drove Carina crazy. It had started off as a regular morning and by the end of the day, she was forever changed. It was an understatement to say that Carina would never be the same. Not after what she had seen.
Training day; today was the day where new trainees from all across the United States were coming to Grey-Sloan to study under the prestigious OBGYN department, which was temporarily being headed by the one and only Doctor Addison Montgomery.
Addison Montgomery... The same woman that Carina had grown to admire over the years as she made her way through the world of gynaecology, the same woman when they finally met, an embarrassing squeal escaped Carina’s lips rather than a greeting.
The same woman who teased Carina after that, the one who had become a mentor… a friend.
Carina had been excited to train a new generation of doctors. Given everything that had happened as of late, training felt new, exciting, hopeful. In a world where women were being pushed down left and right, shoved out of existence, their health care deemed unnecessary, unnatural, satanic, resilience was everything.
Standing up for what was right, continuing to live, practice and breathe in a world that protested those very things…
You’ve all chosen OB/GYN as your specialty, and now your respective states are restricting how you practice that specialty. But, we are here to make sure you get the education that you need.
No matter how hard things got, how many bricks were thrown, they would stand tall. They would be the good things in this world, they would fight against misinformation and ignorance and hate… Because that was their duty. Their duty as doctors, as Americans, as women.
They would unite, stand together and stand tall, through anything that life threw at them.
Carina had heard of the pro-lifers in America, and how much ignorance they carried. Even in Italy, studying to be an OBGYN in medical school, they reviewed the Roe versus Wade case, talking about the impact that religious propaganda had in radicalizing people, manipulating them.
She’d been horrified to learn of the price that ignorance could pay, how terrifying it must have been to be a woman back then. A woman who was cornered, and had no options. A woman who’s country, people and government had abandoned her.
A blanket ban of abortion in the U.S. would lead to a 21% increase of pregnancy-related deaths overall, Carina’s textbook had said.
It had also said that in 1999, it was reported that 78,000 women die from unsafe abortions each year. Seventy eight thousand women… who had families, hopes, dreams, lives of their own… who were backed into a corner and forced to make a choice. How because their country abandoned them, they would never feel the sun on their skin again. How their lives were seen as disposable, as nothing more than a number on a sheet, a statistic in a report.
Coming to the United States after her papa’s latest outburst, with her brother’s address in mind as well as a meeting with Chief Miranda Bailey, the one who Andrea admired so much… Carina thought of those numbers as she fiddled with a loose string on her sweater.
In 1973, the Supreme Court overturned the ban on abortions and reproductive health care. It was deemed unconstitutional for states or the government to police women’s bodies, for someone else to decide what a woman should choose to do with her own body.
Finally, they could breathe. Women were finally given the courtesy of making their own decisions about their own bodies. Them and them alone, no third party asshole who was so far removed from the situation, lacking basic compassion and understanding.
But, in 2022… The nightmare had begun once more.
Ever since the overturning of that decision which had been nearly fifty years to the day, the gynaecologists at Grey-Sloan memorial wore black, like they were going to a funeral. What was once a field full of happiness and bringing new life into this world would forever be tainted by a third party, out of reach of reality, ignorant to the facts, making evil decisions that they knew would cost dozens of lives.
And I've been to some of your states… I've seen the desperation… I've seen the pain, seen the heartbreak…
I've seen lives lost…
Yet again, the United States had turned their backs on women, abandoned their own people. They had returned to square one, the one where pregnant, desperate women would turn to unsafe measures to end their pregnancies, where they try to give themselves abortions… launch themselves down flights of stairs… coat hangers in places they shouldn’t be…
Carina was infuriated. As her marriage was turning upside down, the rug was being pulled from underneath her when the ban on abortions was reinstated. Her job went from a place of light, of life to desperation, death and horror. There weren’t enough words to describe how betrayed she felt.
A clump of cells had more rights and bodily autonomy than she did.
It was infuriating. As an OBGYN who knew the risks of continuing an unhealthy pregnancy… As a woman… She was terrified. Terrified at the possibility, at the what ifs, at all the deaths that would come because of this. But more so, her personal experiences made this all feel that much more horror-stricken.
She remembered how when she was just seventeen, control was taken from her.
On the way home from the club, Gabriella insisted on taking a taxi home, while Carina wanted to walk the four blocks to her house. Four blocks. The alcohol in her body made her stumble slightly as she hummed to herself the song playing in the club. She adjusted her dress; a skin tight, bright red dress that went down to her mid-thigh.
Carina felt good in this dress, she felt beautiful. Sexy.
Remembering the words that a girl she found cute had murmured in her ear, Carina smiled. She remembered how that girl’s lips tasted, how good her tongue felt when all of a sudden, the teenager was grabbed roughly, a hand covering her mouth to muffle her scream of terror, and the words he'd uttered.
She froze. In that moment, she froze, and control was taken from her. She cried as the man pushed her against the wall, and sexually assaulted her violently. Carina was left on the ground in an alleyway like a piece of trash as the perpetrator did what he wished, and scurried away like the rat he was. She stayed on the ground, her body still frozen in fear as she sobbed.
Hours later and having not heard from Carina, Gabriella searched the route from the club and Carina’s house with her older brother, and they had found her. They found the teenager, broken, bloody, bruised, sobbing…
While Salvatore called the paramedics, Gabriella stayed by her best friend’s side. She knelt beside Carina, in the pool of blood, and murmured to the teenager softly, not daring to touch her. Upon their arrival, the paramedics were unable to communicate with Carina due to her being in shock, and given the panic when she couldn’t stand and they tried to help, feeling their touch was so overwhelming that Carina collapsed.
Reluctantly, she went to the hospital. She’d woken up in an unfamiliar trauma room, and the second she realized she wasn’t in heaven or in a place that she recognized, she began thrashing. It was only when Gabriella physically shoved doctors out of the way, gently soothing her best friend did Carina calm.
They did a rape kit, but the man was the president of the Sicilian Manufacturing Agency, and it was clear that even with evidence, photographs and testimony, nothing of consequence would happen.
Carina had been incredibly fortunate that she hadn’t gotten pregnant. She could not have imagined what she would have done if the attack made her pregnant. It had already made her incredibly depressed and had she actually gotten pregnant… that might have pushed her over the edge. Knowing that if she had grown up in today’s day in age and that had happened to her here in America, in one of the states where abortions were banned…
It would have killed her.
Her personal experience fuelled her anger, her terror, her sadness. Her decision to go into gynaecology was one that she never regretted for a second.
It was one that brought Carina so much joy, knowing that she was helping bring new life into this world and helping mammas give birth, helping them nurture that life or helping women end a pregnancy, soothing their anxieties, their fears…
She was proud to be an OBGYN at a world renowned hospital. Carina knew that her mamma and fratello would be immensely proud of everything Carina had accomplished, and that they were with her in every step of the way.
In days like today, Carina drew strength in that fact; that they guided her, watching over her, and keeping her safe.
The pain of not having them here was unbearable. The agonizing heartbreak of not being able to ask her mamma for advice or to get one of her stupid baby brother’s hugs in this trying time was painful enough to bring Carina to her knees. But, she imagined the last conversation she and her mamma had; Carina asking if she should quit med school because of how hard things were. She didn’t know if she could do it.
“Oh, my Carina. We don’t quit, piccolina. When things get hard, you swallow your fears and be brave like a lion. You and your brother are smart, strong, resilient and nothing in this world can break you, bambina. I believe in you, Carina. You are one of the most capable people I know. Remember… you came, you saw, you conquered.”
Those words motivated her, kept her head above water. What was happening outside made Carina so angry she wanted to burst. What lawmakers didn’t understand was that abortions would always happen.
No ban would ever stop abortions… it would just stop safe ones.
This clinic kills! This clinic kills!
Their shift had been chaotic at best. Protesters had smelt Addison’s presence, their bloodhound, thirsty, evil noses finding Grey-Sloan and began gathering in numbers that continued to swell. Their stupid chants echoed through the walls, and the doctors could feel the hate.
It made the day somber, made them nervous, took the joy right out of teaching.
A rock, thrown through the glass, striking an intern, Blue, in the head, the sounds of glass shattering still ringing in Carina’s ears as her coworkers rushed into action. Carina hardly ever froze, but her body was rooted in disbelief, terror…
But little did they know that the worst would soon come.
The doctors snapped into protocol, into alertness, and Carina was cautious. She had seen the protester’s wrath, standing on a gurney as she peeked out of a window to get a look at the mob, which was swelling in population. With a mama in labour, she couldn’t afford to have a moment to cry, to text Maya that she was okay…
Maya...
They all banded together, determined to move through the hostility, refusing to let it impact the care that their patients deserved. So, they but their brave faces on, and began delivering a baby to the shouts of protesters, singing to calm the mother…
In the jungle, the mighty jungle, the lion sleeps tonight…
A song that Miranda Bailey sang to her girl, her baby Prue. A song that would forever be tainted by the horrors of training day. Carina encouraged the patient as she pushed, the woman's cries nearly drowning out the chants from outside as they continued to sing, plastering smiles on her faces.
Even in adversity, Carina made sure to show the trainees the position that their hands had to be in, coaching them through delivering.
They took notes, asked questions, the excitement clear on their faces. Carina smiled as Jo talked with the pregnant trainee, Tia, about her residency, and program back home in Alabama. They exchanged numbers, with Carina’s student promising her support to the pregnant resident if she ever needed anything.
Once the mom and baby were up in the maternity ward, their shift was ending. Carina grabbed her things, dreading going back to the hotel by herself, where she had no one to hold her, to soothe her hair, to give her reassurance that she could handle the adversity of being a gynaecologist in this day in age.
Jo talked about Luna and how she couldn’t wait to smother her daughter with kisses, and Carina made sure the façade she had plastered on her face never wavered, not once.
Whispers followed Carina around, about Doctor DeLuca’s estranged wife, the one who had a breakdown weeks prior. Carina knew that gossip traveled fast in Grey-Sloan, but hearing interns snickering about Maya hitting rock bottom during the fifty-one-fifty… that felt low.
Everyone had a front row seat to one of the most heartbreaking moments of Carina’s life, and there wasn’t a thing she could do about it.
“Do I know that you and Maya will get through this and be better off for it? Yes, yes I do…”
Maya...
Her wife was trying. Maya was seeing Diane, she was making an effort all while respecting Carina’s wishes for space. Carina knew this, and saw her wife’s tentative yet consistent steps forward. Progress was being made, yet Carina missed her wife so much that her body ached. She didn’t trust her head, her heart or anything in her not to go back home and melt in Maya’s arms.
Even the thought of her wife made Carina want to cry. Jo, sensing her mentor’s sadness, reached out and took Carina’s hand.
“Want to come home with me? That way, you won’t be alone,” she offered softly, and with a quiet sniffle, Carina nodded. She could not handle being alone in that stupid hotel room with the lumpy mattress and cold, empty bed.
Jo squeezed Carina’s hand once more as the OBGYNs gathered up, an officer ready to escort them to the parking lot.
Getting a police escort outside… What had the world come to? These women were being punished for delivering life saving care, care that had been so stigmatized that it made Carina’s head spin. She felt sick. Being an American was once one of her goals, the thing that solidified her and Maya’s relationship, and the fact that they would never be torn apart by stupid visas or government policies. Now, being an American citizen was not something she was proud of.
It meant discrimination, fear, stubbornness. Unjust deaths. The refusal to do anything about said deaths.
Shaking herself out of her funk, Carina began talking to interns and trainees about the day as they exited the doors of the hospital, feeling the fresh air on their faces. Carina saw Addison talking to the pregnant trainee as Jo was thanking both interns and trainees for their bravery when Bailey’s panicked shouts drew Carina’s attention.
“Get out of the way! Oh, my God. Oh, my God!”
A car was speeding towards Addison and the pregnant trainee. There was no time to scream, to panic, to react. In a fraction of a second, the OBGYN department at Grey-Sloan Memorial Hospital as well as the Elena Bailey Memorial Clinic would be forever changed, haunted by this day.
With no regard for human life, the car plowed into the two women. Like puppets with their strings cut, their bodies flew through the air and came crashing to the pavement. The sound of their motionless bodies hitting the pavement would be one Carina would never in a million years forget.
Carina’s shaking hand was on her mouth, horrified and in sheer disbelief as the world around her was on fast forward, as the car sped off, the protesters broke through the barricade and charged at the doctors, as the panicked physicians reacted, quickly treating their own.
Dio mio, Carina was infuriated. Terrified. Nauseated. Shaking. Confused. Crying. Her mind was swirling, her breathing quickening as she struggled to process the events that had just unfolded infront of her.
How… Why…
They were supposed to be pro-life… for life … including these women, who were on the ground, motionless. One of whom was carrying a life inside of her, one that very well now could be critically injured.
Jo yanked on Carina’s arm, directing her towards the pregnant trainee. Carina sprinted towards the unconscious woman, but her ears were ringing.
“They’re coming!” Jo was panicking, and Carina snapped herself out of her trance.
This is what she had trained for; not psychotic, ignorant protesters who disguised their hate through forcing women to carry pregnancies, but situations in which they had no plan.
Carina could work under pressure; she was a surgeon, and dealt with crises all the damn time. “Go, get her on a stretcher. I’ll make sure no one touches you,” Carina insisted, giving her student a squeeze on the shoulder. Blue and Yasuda stood alongside her, along with another nurse, Karen, and the four of them made a protective wall as the rest of the OBGYNs and doctors loaded the two injured women on stretchers to wheel them into emergency.
“What’s the plan?!” Yasuda shouted as the protesters got closer, the roar in their ears only growing.
“No one gets through. Not one of them gets through,” Carina growled.
“Hold hands, we need to create a barrier,” Karen insisted, and the four of them intertwined one of their hands, creating a chain.
“Can we hit them?!” Blue asked.
“Be my guest,” Carina snapped, and Blue clapped.
Carina stood in the face of terror, one that was hot with hate. Although her legs were trembling in terror, she refused to move.
She was infuriated that the actions of ignorance, or prejudice and misinformation had led to this; to a situation where two innocent doctors, one fighting for women’s rights in America had been critically injured. How Carina was left with no choice than to band with three of her coworkers to protect the rest of her team, allowing them to get themselves and their injured members inside safely.
She was infuriated. Her heart thumped quickly in her chest as she tensed her body for impact. She held down the angry gazes of hate as the protesters got closer and closer, fists raised.
“Together,” Karen whispered, and holding hands, they readied.
Readied for the impossible.
Dressed for battle, with helmets, yard sticks and wooden batons, the protesters came in swinging.
Carina was able to block the first swing of a fist, and the second, but not the third. The man attacking her and trying to get through her changed his tactics, using his sign, which was not cardboard or paper, but a material that Carina couldn’t identify but had sharp edges, and used it as a weapon, managing to catch Carina off guard as he brought the corner of it down over her face.
She screamed as she felt the material piercing her skin, and leaving a wake as it raked from her hairline, just barely missing her eye as it went across her eyebrow, down to above her ear. She could feel the warm blood seeping from the wound, dripping down her face as she held her arms up as the man bashed her over and over with his sign, fighting to stay upright as the crowd pushed against her.
No matter how much her face throbbed or how many bodies pressed into her, Carina didn’t falter. Not once. Because she knew what would happen if she did.
She held her own, digging her foot into the cement and holding the crowd back, along with Karen, Yasuda and Blue. The four of them, hand in hand, held the barrier while the doctors and rest of the team worked as quickly as they could to get the injured two on gurneys, and get inside.
“DeLuca!”
“Yasuda, Blue! Get in, get in!”
“Someone, help them!”
“Get in, doctors! Get inside!” the officer howled, and with pepper spray, he pressed down hard on the trigger, causing the harsh, hot, prickly spray into the air.
Shouts of panic and pain rang in her ears as Carina was then blinded by the substance, crying in pain. All of a sudden, Carina felt hands dragging her from behind, and not realizing it was her coworkers, she thrashed in their grip, fighting their help and not having her sight, she tripped over herself and crashed to the hard ground, her body feeling the impact once more.
“She’s bleeding!”
“We need help over here! Someone get gauze and a gurney!”
“Carina, can you hear me?!”
Her face was throbbing, her body shaking as Carina curled into a ball, let out a scream and promptly lost consciousness.