icarusaurus
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On her first day in the Pitt, Trinity Santos sees Dennis Whitaker and knows he’s like her. Witches tend to recognize each other, after all. Neither of them said a thing, and Trinity thought they would spend that whole rotation pretending they didn't know what they so obviously both knew.
Then she found out he was homeless and living on the 8th floor of the hospital. And offers him her spare room. Witches gotta stick together, right?
Bookmarked by icarusaurus
16 Mar 2026
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Post 2x10, Samira and Trinity have a quiet moment on the roof.
Bookmarked by icarusaurus
14 Mar 2026
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"Why don't you go shower while I get dinner started?"
Trinity's mouth opens and for a brief second, nothing comes out. It's not that she doesn't have words. She has too many words, stacked in her throat like plates she's afraid to drop—a series of things she would love to vomit at Yolanda's feet, purging them from her body so that she doesn't have to carry them around anymore. But that's not what she asked. Trinity swallows hard, choking down her desire to be difficult. Now is not the time for complaints. Instead, she forces a weary smile, and hedges, "You don't have to do that."
Bookmarked by icarusaurus
11 Mar 2026
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Trinity wants to tell him everything, wants to break down in front of him and make him understand why she is the way she is. That there was no version of Trinity that experienced what she did and didn't come out of it incapable of meaningful human connection. She knows she won't, knows she’ll never look at someone and ask them for help, because the last time she did nobody listened.
She’s really going to fucking miss him though.
“I promise, Dennis. Don't worry about me.” She says it sincerely, she means it. Trinity doesn’t need worry, Trinity doesn’t need anything.
But that doesn’t stop her from wanting.
Dennis smiles at her before walking away.
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Or, Losing both Garcia and Whittaker in the same night leaves Trinity feeling like a stranger in her own story. Moving to night shift seemed like the only option she had left. She knows she's running away, she doesn't know that she's running in circles.
Bookmarked by icarusaurus
10 Mar 2026
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Whitaker shrugs sort of helplessly and sucks in a big gulp of air like he can’t get the words out fast enough. “Normally when she gets upset, she just does everything faster and louder until she burns off whatever it is. But this time she’s—something’s really wrong.”
“And you're telling me because…?” Garcia wants to know, wants to hear him say it.
“You spend the most time with her,” he reasons. “And I know you’re not—y’know—exchanging life stories,” Whitaker acknowledges awkwardly, “but I thought you might… like, maybe she’s told you something, or—?”
“She hasn’t,” Garcia interrupts, crossing her arms and setting her posture. “We’re just sleeping together. Your roommate’s nervous breakdown, your problem.”
Now Whitaker looks properly pissed, which Garcia didn’t even know his little cherub face was capable of.
(A Santos character study within a Garcia character study.)
Bookmarked by icarusaurus
09 Mar 2026