Alacat
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"You wouldn’t want to repeat your R2 year again because of this.”
“I may need a rain check.”
Two sentences end up sending Trinity spiraling in the middle of her 4th of July shift. When she has a panic attack Trinity finds support in an unlikely place and is reminded that leaning on people isn't weakness. If only it were that simple.
Or: Trinity Santos has lived her life in survival mode for so long she's forgotten what it feels like to actually live.
Bookmarked by Alacat
13 Mar 2026
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“I know you mentioned a raincheck,” Santos begins, and then she gets a little lost.
(She has the next words ready.
She’s been practicing them in her head for the last few minutes.
Still, they’re caught in her throat like a sip of water going down the wrong pipe.)
But Garcia is patient.
So unbelievably fucking patient.
"But I don’t—want to be alone,” Santos admits with a slight grimace, trying to sound chill and casual even though this isn’t chill and casual at all. But her voice comes out audibly strained because that was just enough of a lie to make her squeeze her eyes shut and bite her bottom lip way too hard. “I probably shouldn’t be alone tonight,” she corrects with what little air is left in her lungs.
“Okay,” Garcia says, simple and gentle and effortless, and nods toward the passenger side. “Get in.”
Bookmarked by Alacat
27 Feb 2026
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What Santos knows about Garcia: how she likes her coffee, the pattern of moles on her back, how she sounds when she comes. What Santos doesn't know: her hobbies, if she has siblings, her parents' names. Santos hasn't met any of Garcia's friends. It's possible that none of them know of her existence. When Santos tries to imagine Garcia's place, she can see Garcia's black Hokas on the doormat, but she can't fill in any of the picture frames on the walls.
Or: Trinity Santos's turbulent love affair with the concept of Yolanda Garcia's townhouse.
Series
- Part 2 of extra extra verse
Bookmarked by Alacat
08 Feb 2026
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“Look… I’m offering,” Santos doubles down. “I can drive you home. It’s really not a big deal. No problema.”
That earns a breathless, barely-there laugh from Garcia for some reason, and after a visible deep breath in and out she shifts onto her back to look at Santos, and her cheeks are wet.
“Shit,” Santos mutters,”how long have you been stuck in here?”
“Not long enough, apparently.” Garcia hesitates again before wincing through a wave of pain. “It’ll pass. I’ll be fine.”
But Santos just gives her a look. “Seriously, what's the point of lying to me when you could just let me help?”
Garcia sort of rolls her eyes, but they’re bloodshot and too glassy and the next blink releases a tear that she quickly swipes away.
(They haven't spoken since the Langdon incident, and now Garcia's having a migraine attack, and it turns out they didn't completely destroy whatever This is.)
Bookmarked by Alacat
20 Jan 2026
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Summary
Five weeks into her intern year at the PTMC, Trinity twists her ankle while running after a patient. What follows is perhaps, somehow, the wildest experience of her whole entire life, which will eventually be widely known as “the rather quick and dirty process of how Trinity Santos and Yolanda Garcia started hooking up.”
Bookmarked by Alacat
10 Jan 2026