I've finished the first season Station 19, I'm totally in, but because of the stupid crossovers with grey anatomy I already know all the important deaths 🙃
Morning sunlight filtered through Rigo's bedroom curtains in thin, golden stripes, painting the room in a warm glow. A small Bluetooth speaker on the dresser played softly - 'we belong together' by Ritchie Valens. Rigo was pressed against her softly, singing along softly as he pressed gentle kisses against the side of her neck before brushing another across her cheek. “You're mine... and we belong together”
It had become one of y/n's little routines Rigo had become a custom too - music every morning, no matter how early the alarm. Some days it was Elvis, some days classic rock, and on quieter mornings like this, something slower. The soft melody floated through the room as Rigo gently traced patterns on her bare shoulder, his voice barely above a whisper but absolutely sincere. Y/n turned her head slightly, catching his lips with hers in a slow, sleepy kiss.
“You're my, my baby and you'll always be. I swear by everything I own You'll always, always be mine”
She smiled against Rigo's mouth as he humming the next few bars. She groaned playfully before pushing him back into the mattress. She propped herself on her arm as her hand rested against his bare chest near his heart. The sheets were tangled around their legs, the room warm and smelling faintly of them both.
“Eres tan hermosa,” Rigo murmured, slipping out effortlessly as his hand coming up to cover hers where it rested over his heart. His thumb stroked over her knuckles, his eyes soft and sleepy as he looked up at her. The song continued to play in the background, Ritchie Valens singing about forever while Rigo looked at her like he’d already found it. His fingers intertwined with hers, holding her hand against his chest as if to keep her there forever. He leaned up slightly, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips before resting his forehead against hers.
For a while neither of them spoke. The silence wasn't awkward - It was comfortable. The kind of quiet that only came after weeks of learning each other's habits and finding peace in simply being together. Finally she sighed. “what if we just say to hell with it and stay in bed all day”
Rigo laughed softly, the vibration rumbling against her palm where it rested on his chest. He tilted his head back slightly against the pillow, his dark eyes meeting hers with a lazy, tempting grin. “It’s very tempting,” He brought her knuckles to his lips. “But we can’t” he said gently.
Y/n let out a small, frustrated breath, but there was no real heat in it. Her forehead pressed against his chest. “I know”
Rigo pressed a lingering kiss to the top of her head, his hand smoothing down her tangled hair soothingly. Then he shifted, rolling them both again until she was on her back and he hovered above her, bracing himself on one arm so he didn’t press too much of his weight down.
His eyes searched her face for a moment - less teasing now, more serious. “You feeling better?”
That made her pause - just for a second. “Yeah” she nodded.
Rigo studied her face, knowing her well enough by now to catch the subtle tells. She looked peaceful, but he knew the weeks of stress were still sitting heavy under her skin.
He pressed a soft, lingering kiss to her forehead, then her nose, then her lips. “Good,” he murmured gently as his thumb brushed lightly along her cheek, steady and grounding. “I’ll try to talk to Jack” he said after a beat.
“Rigo -”
“I will,” he repeated, calmer but firm. “Not to fight him. Just… talk. This can’t keep going like this”
“Okay,” she said softly. “But don’t go in there thinking you can fix everything in one conversation”
“I’m not that optimistic,” he smiled gently, shifting his weight so he could press one more kiss to her forehead. He pulled back slightly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. He leaned down and pressed another gentle kiss to her forehead, lingering just a moment longer than necessary.
Outside, the world was already moving. Inside, for a few more seconds, neither of them let it catch up to them.
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- present time
Grey Sloan Memorial was already in motion before the ambulance doors even opened. That was the thing about trauma surgeons and firefighters - both sides recognized severity instantly, no explanation needed. Bailey was there first, eyes sharp as she took in the vitals being called out. “Penetrating abdominal trauma, hypotension, active bleeding controlled en route” Ben reported quickly.
Owen Hunt was already beside the gurney. “Move him,” he ordered. “OR one prep now!”
Rigo’s face was pale in a way none of them liked. It wasn't the usual post-fire exhaustion - this was different. Jack came in right behind the stretcher, still in turnout gear, helmet in hand, eyes locked on the gurney like he was refusing to blink. Behind him - Vic, Andy, Travis, Dean, Maya - all of Station 19 all silent. All watching. They didn’t go to the trauma bay. They went to the waiting room because right now, there was nothing else they could do.
Carina DeLuca stepped into the hallway carrying a patient file. She slowed when she recognized nearly the entire crew from Station 19 sitting together - all of them.
Her smile faded. “Maya?” Maya looked up. Carina immediately crossed the room. “What happened?”
Maya exhaled. “There was...” she paused. “it was a bad call”
Carina's eyes widened slightly. She looked back over her shoulder at the trauma bays. “Is everyone alright?” Her gaze landed on Jack, who still hadn't looked away from the OR doors. She followed his line of sight and her heart sank. “Who?”
“Rigo”
Carina exhaled slowly. She knew Rigo - y/n would always talk about him with stars in her eyes. Her and Carina both shared the weight of constantly worrying about their better half being out in the field. Maya had found out about Rigo and y/n a few days before the incident between him and Jack - Carina had accidentally let it slip one night.
“How bad?” she asked carefully, settling beside Maya, squeezing her knee.
Maya hesitated then quietly admitted. “Not good”
Carina swallowed hard. Not good. In trauma speak, that usually meant something catastrophic. She glanced at the others - Vic and Andy were practically vibrating with anxiety. Jack looked sick to his stomach.
“Where's y/n?” Carina asked, the question escaping before she could stop it. “Has anyone told her?”
Silence answered her. Maya rubbed the back of her neck. “umm, Not yet”
Carina stared at her. “Maya, she's his girlfriend. She needs to know. Right now.” The words came out harsher than intended, but Carina couldn't help it. Y/n was her best friend. She'd been through hell and back, and Carina had watched her slowly, carefully putting her heart back together with Rigo in the center of it all.
Carina nodded, standing up. “I'll get her”
Carina didn't stop and walked quickly down the familiar halls of Grey Sloan. Her stomach churned. She'd delivered bad news countless times - families, partners, friends. But this hit differently. Y/n. Her sweet, resilient best friend who'd finally, finally found someone worthy of her heart. Someone who made her glow.
Across the hospital, one floor up, y/n was finishing up a surgery in the OR. The rhythmic beeping of monitors and the focused chatter of the surgical team filled the operating room. Y/n moved with practiced precision, her gloved hands steady as she completed the final steps of the procedure.
The OR doors swung open and Carina stepped inside, holding a mask to her face. Something in Carina's eyes immediately made her pause. “Hey, what's up?”
Carina's mouth opened but no words came out. She'd rehearsed this moment a thousand times in her head - how to tell someone their world was ending. But there was no script, no perfect way. Only the brutal, necessary truth.
“Y/n...” she started, her voice breaking. The surgical team went silent, all eyes turning to them. “Can you get someone to close up?”
Y/n glanced up at carina then quickly back down at her patient, still working. “I'm almost done”
Carina's heart hammered against her ribs. She could see the focus in Y/n's eyes, the determination to finish what she started. But time wasn't a luxury they had right now. “Bella,” Carina whispered, her voice barely audible over the OR's ambient sounds. “I need you to come with me. right now”
A knot began forming in y/n's stomach. “What happened?”
Carina's mouth went dry. She couldn't say it. Not in front of all these people. Not while y/n had her hands covered in someone else's blood. “Walk with me” Carina insisted. Her mind was racing. She'd delivered bad news to families before. She knew how to handle herself.
Y/n hesitated, her hands still working. She knew Carina well enough to sense the urgency. With a final stitch, she handed the instruments to a nurse and removed her gloves then quickly cleaned up before following Carina out of the OR.
The two women walked quickly through the corridors. Neither spoke for almost a minute. Finally - “Carina”
Carina hesitated. “...Let's just - just follow”
Y/n's pulse began to climb. By the time they reached the elevators, her mind had already started racing. Jack? A bad call? No If it were Jack someone would've called - wouldn't they?
The elevator doors opened and the waiting room came into view. Y/n stopped walking when she saw station 19 - every single one of them. All except Rigo. No one was talking - it was expressionless. Hallow. Jack sat hunched forward, his elbows on his knees, staring at the floor. His turnout pants were still on, and there were dark stains across the front of his coat. Blood - too much blood. The moment he looked up and saw his sister, guilt washed over his face.
Y/n felt the air leave her lungs and a lump formed in her throat. “Where's Rigo?”
Carina hand found her back, steadying her. “He's in surgery. He was on a call with Jack - there was... an incident”
The color drained from y/n's face. Blood. Jack's clothes. The station crew's silence. None of them said stable. None of them said he'll be okay. her eyes flicked to her brother - she knew that look. “what happened?” her voice dropped - it was harder this time.
Jack stood up slowly, his movements heavy and stiff. He looked like he’d aged ten years in the last hour. He opened his mouth, but the words seemed to stick in his throat. He wiped a hand over his mouth, the dark soot and blood smearing on his skin. “there was an explosion,” he rasped, his voice barely recognizable. “I couldn't pull him back in time”
It felt like the floor had dropped out from beneath her. The air in the waiting room suddenly became suffocating, too thick to breathe. Explosion. Jack hadn't pulled him back. The blood on his gear. Y/n stared at her brother, the man who had spent her entire life protecting her, but right now, he looked broken. He squeezed his eyes shut, unable to look at her devastation.
“No,” she whispered, but it came out too quiet. The word didn't hold any weight. It didn't make any of this untrue.
She didn't wait for Jack to continue. She didn't ask questions. Her legs were already moving, carrying her past the OR doors, her hand reaching for the handle.
“Y/n- ” Jack grabbed her wrist.
“I need to see him” she said, her voice cracking.
“Y/n, you don't want to see him like that,” Jack said gently, trying to keep her from charging into the trauma bay. She could see the panic rising in her eyes, the desperation. “Please, just wait”
“I can't-” y/n choked out, her entire body starting to tremble. This wasn't a patient. This wasn't a surgery. This was the man she loved.
Her entire world was behind those doors. The man she loved, the man she was building a future with, the person who made her whole. Jack’s face had said enough. An explosion - massive trauma. Jack immediately stepped in, wrapping his arms around his sister and pulling her into his chest. “I've got you. I've got you”
She hit his chest, forcefully and uneffectively. Jack's arms tightened around her despite everything - despite the guilt he felt. He was the thing that possibly destroyed Rigo and her - staying in his arms was the only thing keeping her standing. For years it was just the two of them and despite the anger and unfair blame she felt towards her brother, she fell into the familiar rhythm of seeking his comfort.
She couldn't help but cling to him. Her hands gripped his blood-soaked coat, desperately searching for something solid, something real. She buried her face in his chest and sobbed - deep, guttural cries that came from somewhere primitive and raw.
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Y/n stood at the counter in one of Rigo’s shirts, sleeves rolled up, focused on the garlic and onions frying in the pan in front of her. The Bluetooth speaker on the counter played softly in the background. Ritchie Valens filled the space between them - that same damn song. The one Rigo had started calling theirs without ever asking permission.
Rigo padded barefoot into the kitchen, wearing only gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips. He came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his face in her neck. “Mm, smells good” he muttered against her skin, his stubble scratching gently.
She leaned back into him, one hand stirring the pan while the other came up to cover his on her waist. The shirt sleeves rolled up revealed the tattoo on her forearm. His jaw settled on her shoulder. Ritchie Valens singing 'We Belong Together' and Rigo hummed along, barely audible. There was a comfortable pause between them before he said. “dance with me”
Y/n tries to fight back the grin forming on her lips. “Rigo…”
He spun her around in one fluid motion, his hand catching hers before she could protest. His other hand slid to the small of her back, pulling her flush against his chest. The song swelled around them as he swayed, gentle and slow in the middle of their tiny kitchen.
“Come on, cariña,” he murmured, his eyes locked on hers, dark and warm. “Just one song”
She tilted her head slightly, watching him in awe. “one song” She wrapped her arms around his neck, letting herself relax into the movement.
He leaned his forehead against hers, his thumb tracing circles on her lower back as they moved together, perfectly in sync. There were no words needed, just the music and the comfortable silence between them. The scent of garlic and onions still cooked on the stove, forgotten. His lips brushed her temple, featherlight.
Then her chin tilted up and she captured his lips with her own. The kiss was soft, unhurried - a quiet conversation of its own. His lips moved against hers with practiced familiarity, yet still held that same electric current that had been there from the beginning. One of his hands tangled in her hair, holding her close as the other stayed pressed firmly against her lower back, anchoring her to him.
When the kiss deepened, it deepened quickly. It was full of passion and warmth and intimacy that only came from knowing each other so completely. His tongue traced her bottom lip before slipping inside, exploring her mouth with a leading thoroughness. His fingers tightened in her hair as she melted into him, the kiss becoming more urgent. The song changed to something with a beat, more quicker - a perfect backdrop. He walked them backwards until her hips hit the countertop, lifting her up without breaking the kiss.
Her legs wrapped instinctively around his waist, her heels digging into his lower back. The cold granite of the counter pressed against her thighs, a sharp contrast to the heat radiating from his body. His hands slid under the oversized shirt she wore, his palms rough and warm against her bare skin, pulling her impossibly closer.
He broke the kiss only to trail his lips down her neck, marking her skin with open-mouthed kisses and gentle bites. His hands squeezed her thighs possessively before sliding up to cup her ass, pulling her against the growing hardness in his sweatpants. “Fuck” he muttered against her skin.
Her head tipped back, a soft moan escaping her lips as his mouth mapped her throat with perfect, devastating precision. Her fingers threaded through his dark hair, pulling him closer, completely surrendering to the moment. The garlic and onions were burning forgotten on the stove, but neither of them cared. It was just them - always them.
Then the smoke alarm blared, finally breaking through their haze. “Holy shit”
Rigo let out a frustrated laugh, rushing to turn off the stove. He waved a towel at the smoke alarm while she opened windows, the smell of burnt food filling the kitchen. He stepped away from the stove, wiping his hand on his sweatpants. He glanced at her - her lips slightly swollen, hair a mess, still flushed from the kiss. He exhaled sharply, a muscle in jaw ticking as he fought back a smirk. “Dinner's ruined”
“And whose fault is that?” y/n raised an eyebrow.
Rigo didn’t even try to deny it. He leaned his hips back against the counter, crossing his arms over his bare chest, that signature smirk stretching across his lips. “Mine. One hundred percent mine” he admitted freely, his eyes darkening as they raked over her.
“Mhm”
He stepped back toward her slowly, like a predator closing in on its prey. “You didn't exactly protest” he murmured, his thumb brushing over her swollen bottom lip. “In fact, I think you started it”
His eyes dropped to where the shirt had ridden up on her thighs, then back to her face. “Order takeout?”
Y/n couldn't fight the laugh. “Takeout. Definitely.” She reached up, fixing his messy hair. You could see it in her eyes - completely in love. That was them. Domestic chaos, ridiculous arguments, and absolute, consuming love.
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- present time
The waiting room settled into an uneasy silence after the siblings pulled apart. Jack wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand, leaving another streak of soot across his face. He kept his eyes forward, sitting close enough to her that their shoulders touched. “I'm sorry” he said again, quieter this time.
Y/n shook her head. “We'll talk about this later” Her voice trembled, but it was steady enough. “Right now... I just need him to be okay”
Hours passed slowly. The trauma team came out twice to update them, but both times they were vague - critical condition, extensive injuries, in surgery. Each time, their faces gave away more than their words. Hours after the sun went down Owen Hunt stepped inside, still wearing surgical scrubs and his green scrub cap.
The room stood all at once. Y/n's heart dropped into her stomach as she searched Owen's exhausted face desperately. He took a slow breath. “We've stabilized him,” The entire room exhaled as one. “But... The next twenty-four hours are critical”
Y/n stepped forward. “Is he awake?”
Owen shook his head. “He lost a lot of blood... We repaired the abdominal injuries and got him on a ventilator,” He took a slow breath, looking directly at her. “we moved him to the icu”
Without another word, Y/n was already moving. She pushed past Owen, down the hall, her scrubs swishing around her legs. She didn't need directions. She's worked here for too many years - just never with him as the patient. She reached the ICU room and stopped short. Rigo lay still beneath the machines. Wires snaked across his body.
He looked smaller under the white sheets, his tan skin pale against the pillow. Tubes and wires connected him to machines that breathed for him, monitored his heart rate, regulated his blood pressure. There was a large bandage across his abdomen where they'd repaired internal injuries.
Y/n pulled a chair close and sat. Carefully, she reached for his hand. It felt warm - Thank God. “I'm here,” she whispered, wrapping both of hers around it. “I’m here, my love”
His fingers twitched beneath hers - tiny, almost imperceptible movements. The monitor beeped steadily, maintaining the rhythm of his life. His dark hair flopped over his forehead like it always did after a long night and his stubble had grown thicker. Y/n gently pushed his hair back before her fingers fell down the curve of his jaw.
Hours ticked by on the wall clock. Y/n didn't get up. Her eyes remained fixed on his hand, watching for another twitch. She counted the machine-aided breaths, the steady monitor pings. Her fingers still traced around his jaw, now with a desperate gentle-ness. Late into the night a faint groan broke from his lips. A twitch. “Rigo”
His eyelids fluttered against the bright hospital lights. His gaze shifted beneath them, trying to focus. He inhaled sharply, fighting the ventilator. His fingers curled weakly in her hand. He looked older, worn out. But the familiar dark gaze from beneath heavy, dark lashes slowly met hers - confused. His gaze flickered around the room, landing on the machines and wires.
“Shh, I've got you” she says, trying to keep him calm as she reaches for the ventilator. She worked with practiced ease, removing the tube gently and slowly. He gagged and coughed when the tube came out, his body curling forward. His hand shot to his abdomen and he groaned in pain. “Fuck” he rasped, voice raw from the tube. His eyes watered with pain but they stayed on her.
“Easy, don't move so much” y/n said softly, her thumb brushing against his cheek.
He leaned heavily into her touch, his eyes squeezing shut as a wave of agony rolled over his abdomen. His breathing was shallow and ragged. “Everything hurts” he rasped, his voice barely a whisper, sounding completely wrecked. The heart monitor spiked slightly as his pain increased. Y/n reached for the morphine pump, adjusting the drip to give him some relief. His eyes fluttered closed, his body relaxing slightly. He took deeper, slower breaths. When he opened his eyes again, they were clearer, less clouded with pain.
His gaze drifted over her face, taking in every detail. The dark circles under her eyes, the faint lines of exhaustion around her mouth. He reached up with his free hand, his fingers trembling as he gently brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. That broke her - relief hit her hard as tears flooded her eyes.
“Don't cry,” he whispered hoarsely, his thumb brushing a tear from her cheek. His voice was still rough, raw from the tube, but it was his voice. “I'm right here”
She couldn't stop the tears. They fell freely, dripping onto their joined hands. “I thought I lost you”
His expression softened, his gaze filled with warmth and tenderness. He squeezed her hand gently, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “I'm not that easy to get rid of” he murmured, attempting a weak smile. His stomach churned with pain, but he ignored it, focusing on her instead.
His hand dropped from her cheek to the edge of the bed, exhausted, fighting against the overwhelming urge to sleep. The morphine made him sleepy again, his gaze hazy and distant. He could hear voices coming. The hospital. He remembered things coming back to him in fragments. The explosion. Jack's face. Blood and smoke and noise.
“Just rest, I'll be here” y/n said softly, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss against his lips.
He turned his head slightly and his eyelashes fluttered closed before they forced them back open. “N-no, I need to say this Incase shit... Hit the fan again”
“I love you,” he whispered honestly, completely. “I love you with every broken piece of my heart, with every scar on my soul. I love you like I've been waiting my whole life for you” His voice cracked slightly as he said it, emotion thick in his throat.
Y/n choked on a sob, pressing her forehead against his, her tears mingling with his skin. “I love you too,” she whispered back fiercely. “More than anything. You’re not going anywhere, Rigo. I’m not letting you”
He smiled weakly, his eyes heavy. “Okay,” he breathed out, surrendering to exhaustion and pain medication. His hand stayed firmly gripped in hers as his breathing evened out, falling into a deep, medicated sleep. She watched his chest rise and fall, listening to the steady beep of the heart monitor. The rhythmic sound soothed her frayed nerves.
She didn't leave. She stayed glued to that chair, her hand never letting go of his. Minutes bled into hours. The ICU settled into a quiet rhythm, and for the time being, the beep of the monitor became her new heartbeat.
