Chapter Text
There are always warning signs before something goes wrong. Not all of them are big, flashing stop signs. Some are subtle, easy to miss unless you know to look for them. And often, we don’t.
It was a Friday afternoon when the signs went from subtle to flashing.
Maya Lawson is twenty years old. It’s her first day at Mid-Wilshire Station. Too young to be an official part of the team, she’s been hired as an intern under Detectives Nyla Harper and Angela Lopez. Mostly shadowing them and helping out where needed.
Maya graduated college early just a month ago. Despite her age, she’s determined to make her mark at the station. Unfortunately for her, the mark she’s going to make isn’t the one she expects.
“Lawson!” Lopez calls from across the bullpen.
Maya, tucked away in the back corner reviewing reports, looks up. She’s felt off all day, her heart’s been racing, and she’s warmer than usual. Not feverish, exactly, just uncomfortably hot. She’s chalked it up to nerves.
She walks over to Angela, visibly nervous though trying hard to hide it.
“We’re going to a scene,” Angela says. “Harper thinks it’d be a good opportunity for you to see how we work, how everyone works.”
Maya’s eyes light up. This is what she hoped for. She doesn’t want to be a cop, but she wants to work in victim advocacy, and this internship feels like the perfect step in that direction.
On the way to the scene, she still feels off — a little dizzy, maybe dehydrated. She sips her water and tries to ignore it.
When they arrive, adrenaline takes over. It’s a small case, a robbery at a shop, but it’s her first scene. She’s excited. Nervous.
As she steps out of the car, the dizziness hits harder. She steadies herself on the door.
Nyla, from the passenger seat, notices. Maya looks pale — but they’ve only met her this morning. Maybe she’s just nervous. Nyla offers her a bottle of water. Maya smiles weakly, accepting it with a quiet “thank you.”
Nyla knows Maya’s shy, young, and smart, but she looks like a scared puppy. She and Angela had talked earlier that morning: they’d give her a chance before writing her off. Still, they’re not sure why she’s here. Maya doesn’t want to be a cop, so why intern at a precinct?
Maya’s answer had been simple — she wants to work in research and victim advocacy, and she wants real-world experience. It intrigued them, though it also made them wonder if she was here to critique them.
If they’d asked, Maya would’ve told them the truth: she just wants to learn. She’s genuinely curious about everything.
What no one notices, though, is the way her complexion keeps fading. How, when she watches Lucy and Tim joking about who spoils their dog Kojo more, she grips the counter for support.
No one’s really paying much attention to her — she’s just the intern, after all.
As the scene wraps up, Maya walks toward Angela and Nyla, listening intently as they explain the final steps of processing. But her vision is starting to blur.
“I’m sorry,” she murmurs quietly.
It’s the only warning they get before she collapses.
The room freezes as Maya Lawson hits the floor.