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Some days end when I need a few friends (Now and again I could never hope to keep them)

Summary:

Everyone keeps leaving Trinity. Will anyone stop her from leaving too?

~or Trinity has been having a rough few weeks, has a shitty shift, gets a collection of crap news. But it'll all be fine right?

Notes:

Someone hug Santos asap. Or at least give her one proper compliment.

Work Text:

People leave. It's one of the more certain things in Trinity’s life. It's, laughably so, one of the few things she can count on. Scarily so, much more than the sun rising.

Alice left. With just a note to say her farewell. Her dad, a heart attack with no explanation. The one good friend she made in med school dropped out, saying she just couldn't handle it anymore, financially and mentally. 

People she cares about leave her. So, she likes to think it doesn't hurt her anymore when it keeps happening. That the abandonment pain in her heart is more a calloused scarred wound by now. She can deal with people leaving a lot easier than she used to. 

But when three people, who she has begrudgingly grown close to, all announce their leave on the exact same day, the scar reopens as an ugly injury.

 

She knew Robby was leaving. Hell, the man had talked about it enough. She’d never say it to his face but it seemed to be a lot of projection, as if trying to amp himself up for his own vacation. To try and make himself excited for it. It was… a questionable decision. Men in their mid fifties that take three month long ‘sabbaticals’ never really screamed mentally stable but Robby had long since banned anyone from saying it was a mid life crisis (or at least to his face). 

It had shocked Trinity, the bond she had formed with the attending. She didn't gel well with male authority figures, gymnastics had caused her weariness of them ever since. She especially hadn’t expected it after ‘the shift from hell’ everyone in the Pitt had dubbed her first day there. It was an accurate title. She still hadn’t had a shift quite like it. No such incidents like the Langdon sized situation. 

Trinity truly didn’t want to report Langdon. He was the golden boy, the senior resident who could do no wrong. She wasn’t looking for a reason, the reason was shoved in her face. Part of her wished the man wasn’t so obvious to her, so she could just look past it like everyone else had. She didn’t want to be trouble, the intern that cried wolf as Donnie had put it, but then Robby had said she had a responsibility to tell him if there was anything that might affect his ER. And if she was wrong, then maybe she’d be ostracised or recommended to transfer and work at a different hospital, but if she was right. If she was right and something happened because she was too scared to tell anyone, just like she had been too scared to tell anyone what was going on with her and Alice, it would eat at her for life. Just like Alice did.

So she told him. And she had been right. And then Langdon disappeared. The official reason was he has taken some time off to work on himself and his family. But things rarely stayed secret at the Pitt. Princess had seen an enraged Robby throwing Langdon out. No one knew the real reason, other than the three involved, but it meant people knew it wasn’t completely voluntary. 

But, unlike what Trinity thought would happen after, Robby didn't avoid her. She’d expected, after giving Robby no reason but to send his favourite resident away, that Robby would keep their relationship strictly professional. He’d be her boss that there would be this awkward and avoidant tension with and she’d just have to suffer through it.

The curveball came when that's exactly what didn’t happen. Well, for the first day or two at least it did. Then Trinity found her footing in the Pitt. Proved she wasn't some overzealous intern, who only thought about herself. She got stuff right way more than she got things wrong. She advocated for her patients. She quipped up with a few dark humour jokes that only a select few would laugh at. One being Robby.

He made an effort to check on her after particularly hard cases, offered advice and encouragement, and most surprisingly just chatted to her about his life during down time moments, and listened on the rare occasion she shared stuff back. 

Then a few weeks ago, just when things were looking up for Trinity, life had been going smoother than ever, he notified the Pitt he was taking a three month absence. It wasn’t like the news would be the complete end of the world for Trinity, it was just three months. But Robby was a rare breed of guy that seemed to genuinely care, and not just because he had to. And Trinity knew she wouldn’t be lucky to get the same thing with whatever replacement they brought on for him. 

She was half right. Dr Al-Hashimi initially was not giving Trinity great vibes. She was smart obviously, she knew what she was doing. No bullshit type of woman. Kind of cool actually. Bit of a rule stickler but Trinity was fine with rules for the most part.

Then she had to go and say Trinity would have to repeat her second year if she didn't pick up the pace with her charting. Or at least that's what it sounded like she was saying. Normally it was fine to just chart when you had the time, or after your shift, but now Trinity felt like she had to devote every second into her charting. It was making her a worse doctor, she realised a little too late into the shift, cutting time talking to patients so she could scurry off to finish the last bit of her previous patients chart. 

And then they went analog and it made charting a million times worse. She already had a heavy caseload, with it being her R2 year, having to take on the responsibility of not just her patients but the interns and the med students too. At least when she had the computers it had spell check, but lord knows her dyslexia beats her ass at the best of times, writing everything by hand meant she had to spend extra care and time over her words. The headache that was festering in her head grew and grew, until it was almost blinding by the end of her shift.

 

Then there was Whitaker. Huckleberry. Against her will, he had weaseled his way by her side. Admittedly, she could only blame herself. She didn’t have to offer up the spare room in her apartment, but he looked at her, with those big, sad, mormon like eyes and she suddenly had no choice. 

Suddenly, after so many years of it being just Trinity’s life, it became Trinity and Dennis’s life. He was a pretty decent roommate, was rarely loud, and freakishly clean. But more than that he was kind. Sometimes infuriatingly so. He wasn’t imposing with his kindness, just present, with a disturbing amount of insight. He just seemed to know those days when work was too much, and he just seemed to know the right fix. Whether it was opening two beers for them and just shooting the shit, or watching crap tv, or a surprisingly therapeutic ice cream and cry sess, he was there. A comfort, a rock. Trinity had tried to resist it, but truly what would have been the point. 

Their bond grew much closer than Trinity would have ever thought. And maybe, Trinity thought, it was because he was eerily similar to her younger brother back home. It was a relief to fly to the other side of the country, her home town in LA had been a shadow over her life, clouding her childhood, so when she got accepted to the University of Pennsylvania, she jumped to accept. The only downside was it meant leaving her brothers. She was the eldest of them. Her mother, especially after losing her husband, was pretty lacking in the parental department, so it meant Trinity was looking after them more often than not. Her mom got better as Trinity got older, at least towards her brothers, but Trinity always felt responsible.

So, when Trinity did go to college, leaving her brothers behind, it felt like losing part of herself. And sure they kept in contact, but it was never the same. And as much as she didn’t like to admit it, Dennis filled that gap. Seamlessly. Trinity would even go as far to say Whitaker was her closest friend. Which she’s sure would surprise the both of them.

Which is why it tore something in her, when he had jogged to her side, dopey smile on his face. Told her she didn’t need to worry about him annoying her anymore, at least until Robby was gone. Told her that Robby had offered to let him housesit while he was gone. He doesn’t know, she had thought. He doesn’t know that he is the reason she gets up slightly easier in the morning, knowing there is already a cup of coffee brewing for her, perks of him being an early riser. He doesn’t know she enjoys their time spent together, be it cooking or grocery shopping or just chatting shit. He doesn’t know his presence in their apartment makes it feel less desolate, less like a place she has to be and more a place she wants to be. He doesn't know she needs him. 

That's what kills the most, she reflects. That he is probably one of two people who knows so much about her, and yet it doesn’t even scratch the surface. It’s not like he is going to be completely gone, she knows this. It’s just three months and then he’ll be back. Besides, lately he's been spending more time at Amy’s farm than home. But she knows more than most that distance changes things.

What if he finds out he prefers living alone in those three months? What if he decides with all this extra money he is saving up from not paying rent he can afford a place of his own? It’s embarrassing how much she wants that to not be. But she can’t exactly blame him. Trinity knows she isn't an easy person to be close to.

She's all barb, thorned to the core. She’s sarcastic in a way most people can't be bothered to tolerate. She’s abrasive, aggressive, and unsympathetic. Or at least this is according to what people have fed back to her. She can take criticism very well, you don’t get to D1 gymnastic level without being able to brush off harsh words, but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting. 

And yet, Dennis has never called her any of that. When she herself had tried to warn him, he had shrugged it off, stating he knows cows meaner than her. Which didn’t exactly feel like a compliment but what does she know about farm life? Perhaps though she was wrong though, because there he is, excited to be out of her hair. 

Was she pushing too hard with the Amy thing? She had been told a million times by the Nebraska native to drop it, let him handle it but something about it just didn’t sit right with Trinity. It’s not that she thinks Amy is a bad person, she’s actually the complete opposite, it’s just that she doesn’t want to see Huckleberry get hurt. 

 

Finally Yolanda. Their relationship (if you could even call it that) was one many people would have given up on months ago. Trinity didn’t really need or care about stability though. And Yolanda never gave it. 

It started a month after the first shift, when Trinity worked up the courage to ask Garcia to go have those cocktails. It just escalated from there. Trinity worked really hard at toeing the line between casual and serious. She didn’t want to get too invested, and then be hung out to dry. Especially when she found herself falling for Garcia more and more. 

But then Yolanda’s apartment was undergoing renovations, and the surgeon was complaining about the friend's apartment she was staying in, telling Trinity it added an extra hour on her commute to work. That the downstairs neighbours loved to blast heavy metal music whenever Yolanda tried to sleep. And the offer had just slipped out. Without her meaning it to. They were both either ever at each other's apartments, so it didn’t really take much convincing. 

Consequently, Yolanda started to move some of her things into Trinity’s apartment. They shared morning and nightly routines when they had similar shifts. They took turns cooking meals for each other. They had honest to god, mind blowing sex. To many others, it may look like a full fledged months-long relationship. Alas, twasn’t.

It all began a mere 24 hours ago. Yolanda came from the bedroom to the kitchen, speaking on the phone in fast Spanish with a wide grin on her face. She smiled and nodded to Trinity, who was nearly done plating the chicken pancit she had prepared for the both of them (with an extra portion already tupperweared away for Whitaker).

“Who was that?” Trinity asked even though she already knew. It was the same smile Garcia had on her face anytime she called her family. 

“My mom. Her and my dad are coming to town for a few days. Thank you.” Yolanda told her as she started on dinner.

“Oh, where are they staying?” Trinity asked, couldn't be at Yolanda's apartment.

The smile still hadn't faded yet as she finished her bite of noodles, “A hotel nearby, close enough to here.” Alarm bells started ringing in Trinity’s head.

“Okay, cool.” She says non committedly. She can feel a conversation coming.

“I’m going to see them next week when they arrive. You should come.” Yolanda slips the last part casually. But its implications are anything but.  

“Isn’t that… I don't know, a little much?” Trinity asks gently. She’s never been very good with anyone's parents, all deeming her unfit for their child. No doubt what sounds like parents sent by god himself would think the same.

“A little much? How do you mean?” Garcia starts, the clip in her voice already showing. Trinity sighs, she knew this would become something.

“Well it's just, that's a little serious no?” Trinity says between mouthfuls, trying to keep her voice as even as possible.

Yolanda puts her chopsticks down. Shit. “No? I’m not asking you to ask them for my hand, just come with me to see them.” She says, the tone in her voice getting more perturbed with every passing word.

Even the small implication of marriage sends Trinity a little queasy. “I… I don’t know. I’m not sure I’m up for that.” Trinity replied, trying to keep this as civil as possible. She didn't have the strength to argue. 

A sharp scoff from across the table. Trinity doesn’t dare make eye contact. “You- you don’t have to. But it would be nice Trinity. They want to meet you.”

That makes Trinity snap her head up to the surgeon, to make sure she understood that last part. “You’ve told them about me?” 

“Well, yes. Of course. What’s the problem?” Yolanda snaps, and Trinity can just about make out the vein starting to pop out in Garcia’s neck whenever she gets agitated.

“Don’t you think you should have told me that? I mean it’s not like we tell anyone else about what we are doing. Whitaker only knows because he literally walked in on us.” Trinity replies, her meal now forgotten as well. 

Yolanda squints at her, as if studying, then sits back and sighs herself. “You haven't told anyone about us?” She asks almost disbelievingly so.

“No. I- Why would I-” She starts trying to choose her words casually. “It’s not like we’re dating. I thought we were just keeping things casual, right?” Trinity asks now confused herself. Had Yolanda told others about them?

Before Garcia, Trinity had never been in a real relationship. She never dated in school, her mother forbade it. Then in college she was either too busy, or too messed up to get herself caught up in dating. She had a few hookups, she wasn't a complete loser, but nothing proper, nothing tangible. So it really shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone that she clearly has no idea how to navigate these situations.

A second scoff. Never a good sign. “Yeah, sure Trinity.” Yolanda spits out and is suddenly interested in her noodles. She is distant the rest of the night, and to a point cold. It’s terrible and feels wrong and Trinity wants nothing more to fix it, even though she has no idea what will. 

Though when they woke up, Yolanda seemed fine, a little closed off but mostly back to her normal self. Drove her and Whitaker to work. Their parting was a little strained but Trinity just chalked that up to lingering tension from last night.

She didn’t know why she felt the reason to check on their plan for the evening, but something about the way Garcia was avoiding eye contact in the trauma room made her want to confirm it was just in her head. 

It wasn’t. 

‘Might need a raincheck’? What does that even mean? 

Then she tells her she definitely has plans elsewhere in the most elusive way. When they had already made plans to watch the fireworks together ages ago. Who does she even have plans with? The way she had said it implied she wouldn't be back that night, so where was she staying? And why wouldn’t she say exactly what she was doing instead?

Trinity wasn’t even given that long to spiral though because then Garcia entered the elevator, looked at Trinity’s clearly disappointed face and had said “We’re just keeping things casual, right?”

And honestly, fuck Garcia. So it had bothered the surgeon. Trinity knew as much but it sucks to have her own words thrown back in her face.

This day could not be any more tiring. Between the never having enough time to chart, the amount of hard hitting paediatric cases, that always were tougher than the others for Santos, going analog, Langdon coming back, then the waterslide victims. It was a tough shift. One only rivalled by perhaps Pittfest. 

She was in the middle of a trauma case. Pulled in with Langdon. Cold glares from Garcia. Safe to say she wasn't on top form. She was distracted, slower than usual. Enough for the people in the room to notice. Enough for Dr Al-Hashimi to dismiss her, telling her to take a breather. 

So she stormed over to the stairwell, like a child being put in time out. Ran her hands over her hair. Did actually take some deep breaths. Getting back to a somewhat socially acceptable normal. Then,

“That can't happen again.” The voice from behind her spoke. Trinity didn’t want to turn around. Didn't want to see the annoyed expression from the older woman. 

“It won't.” She replied tersely. 

“I know shit went down between you both before, but you can't let that affect your work. It's unprofessional.”

It was Trinity’s turn to scoff. “Yeah sure whatever.”

A pause. Trinity fought the battle in her head and turned around. The surgeon was closer than she expected. “Langdon’s a good doctor. He’s here to stay. Put on your big girl panties and work it out.”

The very last thing Trinity needed right now was to be patronised, especially from the woman across from her. “Was he a good doctor when he was stealing drugs from patients?” She bites back. It’s really not what she should have said, a low blow, but fuck it. Things are already going to shit. 

An unimpressed look meets her, “Actually, despite that, yes. He’s got good instincts and he’s a valuable asset. You’re going to have to learn to work with him if you want to stay here.”

‘If I want to stay here?’ Trinity gawks. Now, actually fuck her. “That’s not your decision to make.”

“No, but if you keep it up, people are going to notice. And who do you think they are more likely to keep, the senior resident, or the R2?” This didn’t even feel warranted anymore. It just felt mean, and Trinity was the expert on that. 

“Oh I don't know, maybe the one who doesn’t steal from their workplace. Screw you Garcia, I’ve got patients.” Trinity tries to exit before she says something she’ll regret.

“Just something to think about. Enjoy the fireworks.” Garcia calls out to her as Trinity leaves. And now she really is seething. She tries to dive into her patients, letting the chaos distract her. And it works for a bit. But the minute she's not moving, not suturing, not presenting, she thinks of Garcia’s words. Her attitude. And it riles her up again.

 

She’s still at the Pitt four hours after her shift. After all the hell the day had brought, it took her four extra hours to catch up on her charting. The last of the day shift had filtered out around two hours ago. Her hand throbbed, and the pen in her hand didn’t feel real anymore. Her eyes stung, a mixture of exhaustion and fighting off tears. 

She would not cry. Trinity Santos does not cry. Trinity Santos didn’t even cry at her best friend's funeral, she was not going to cry just because of a bad day at work. 

Screw it. Her charts weren’t going anywhere. Unfortunately so. She pushed her chair back, apologising immediately to the nurse she hit with the back of it.

Enters the stairwell. In a dissociated state, climbs the nine floors, having just enough sense to make space for any doctors rushing past her. Pushes open the door that shouldn't open. Was supposed to be fixed with a lock ages ago, but had slipped through the cracks. How fitting?

The cool summer night air hits her face in a way that feels refreshing. The air lingered of sulphur, most of the more impressive firework shows already over. It was easy to see, on this roof, any soldiering parties, still releasing some late into the night.

She liked the science of fireworks. How you would see them before you could hear them. How their very purpose to be destroyed, be broken, be viewed. They were beautiful. As a kid, the noise would scare her. As an adult, they were a nice break to her never ending silence. 

She made her way to her spot. Past the guard rail. A step distance away from the ledge. She wouldn’t. Certainly not here. She knew too many people here. Her hand instinctively runs over the lines on her thigh. Wincing at a few of the newer ones. 

She could. If she really wanted to. If she wanted to be selfish. It’s not like she would be around to face the consequences. Everyone else had left her, why would it be so wrong for her to do the same? 

It would mean breaking the promise she made at Alice’s funeral, that she wouldn’t join her. But Alice broke her promise first so maybe it would finally make them even.

It’s only one step. That's all it would take. It’s all she would need. 

“I’m going to have to get a reserved sign. Everyone keeps stealing my spot.” A gruff friendly voice announces behind her.

It’s pure luck she has half the sense to jump backwards against the guard rail in surprise as opposed to forward. She hadn’t heard him come up. 

“Wh-what?” She turns around, a little frazzled. How long had she been up here?

Jack Abbot points to where Trinity is standing “It’s my spot.” He says with a smile.

Trinity likes Abbot. Likes most of the night shift crew. She would have transferred over to the night shift, but the cooler cases come during the day. She picks up a few night shifts when she can but none of them stimulate her just as much. She likes the freedom of the night shift though. There’s no ego. Not as much protocol. The mentality is get shit done, one that flows perfectly in Santos’s brain waves. It’s just admittedly quite boring sometimes. 

“Sorry.” She apologises bashfully even though she's not sure exactly why. It’s not like it actually is his spot. 

“It’s alright. I’ve actually started to stand on the other side of the rail recently. And they say therapy doesn’t work.” He gives her a knowing look, and she's suddenly not enjoying being perceived by this man. 

“Not as good of a view from the other side of the rail.” She jokes back. Easier to keep it light.

“Well that's all down to perspective. I’m more of a horizon guy myself.” He leans on the rail beside her. 

There’s a beat of silence where Trinity doesn’t know what to say, and Abbot just won't fill it. So they look out. And Trinity feels caught. She’s not sure why, it’s not like he could know what she was thinking. Although, given the look he was giving her, maybe he did.

“Tough day?” Abbot finally shatters the awkward silence.

Trinity leans the back of her head against the rail, enjoying the cool metal pushing into her skull. “You could say that.” She breathes out. She likes the guy but she isn't about to confess all her woes to him.

“I used to come up here a ton. On hard days. Sometimes on fine days. Thoughts become a lot more central up here. Less clouded ironically.” He muses and Santos is trying to find the point behind his words. “They get louder too sometimes. The wrong kind of thoughts. It's really a blessing and a curse this place.” And Trinity isn't sure if he means the roof or the building as a whole.

“You don’t come up much anymore?” Trinity asks, evading the deeper part of that conversation. She hadn’t ever crossed paths with Abbot up here, or anyone for that matter. She assumed she was the only one who knew about it. 

“Nah. I made a promise to a friend. Said we’d stop finding each other up here as often as we did. There’s better places to see the horizon than here anyways.” He smiles at her. Another moment of silence “We miss you on the night shift.” He adds

Trinity actually smiles. Whether he means it or not, it’s nice to feel wanted for once. “Yeah me too. I like it, it's just- well it’s not as busy.”

Abbot laughs, “You worked the nights during new years eve didn’t you? That wasn’t busy enough for you?”

“Holiday’s are always busy.” Trinity laughs back. “But.. I’ll think about it.” 

“Good good, I’ve been trying to pawn you off Robby for ages but he won't give you up. You must be pretty good then if he wants to keep you.” He says conspiratorially and Trinity hates how she’s so easily warmed by the compliment. The man on the other side on the rail shivers. “Ooh I’m getting too old to be up here this long. I’m gonna head down, join me?” He asks and Trinity could decline. Like it would actually be so easy to say she was going to stay up here a few more minutes. But it’s the way he’s looking at her like he understands what her head is telling her. It’s the way he hesitates as he walks back, looking at her expectantly, hopefully. 

So Trinity decides she can leave. She can leave this roof. Ducks under the rail, not before sparing a last glance down towards Pittsburg, letting it stay small for a moment. 

She takes the stairs down with Abbot. It’s a bit of a longer way down than the one she was intending, but she makes it regardless. Regardless of all those leaving her, she decides to stay.