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Trinity would be hard-pressed to remember the last time she gave a single, solitary shit about Christmas.
It had to be when she was young. When Santa still arrived every year like clockwork, bringing with him scant gifts but at least the promise of real magic. Back in the days where dad came home every night (long before he stopped coming home altogether), and mom hadn't succumbed to the bottle entirely.
Back before-
Well. It's been a while since she's given a shit about any kind of holiday magic beyond the magic that is a sizeable bonus on her paycheck. Time and a half for the privilege of pretending December 25th is a day just like any other at Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center's Emergency Department was more than a worthy exchange in her book.
She just... doesn't really see the appeal anymore.
Mel, though. Mel likes Christmas.
Trinity had asked her, on one of those rare and beautiful nights where, for once, they weren't needed by work or Becca or even Dennis for a handful of hours. They were curled together in bed at Mel's apartment, her head on Trinity's shoulder and Trinity's gaze on the lights dangling from the windowsill. Mel had insisted they put them up on November 1st, and the tree had followed shortly after.
"Why do you like Christmas so much?" she'd whispered into the quiet, nothing but the sound of their breathing and the traffic in the street down below.
"I don't know," Mel had said, after a beat, silence stretching between them long enough that Trinity knew she was really thinking over her answer. "I just do."
It's not a particularly good answer, but Trinity knows Mel well enough to know that if she did have a better one, she'd offer it up. No, she just likes Christmas. Like she likes purple and she likes wearing her hair in a braid. So, Trinity hums, and turns her attention to pressing Mel into the mattress with lips and warm fingers and the weight of her body.
Becca likes Christmas. Becca really likes Christmas. It isn't just Elf that she forces Mel to watch all throughout the year, but a constant rotation of holiday films. Since she and Mel started dating, even Trinity has been roped into the occasional Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer or Muppet Christmas Carol rewatch. (Christmas movies aren't quite as charming in July as they are in December. Go figure.)
The group home is stifling on Christmas Eve, heater cranked high despite the press of a couple-dozen additional bodies that don't usually occupy the space. But, Becca had insisted on inviting Trinity along to the annual Christmas recital, and it was an invitation she couldn't refuse.
Mostly because the way that the King sisters beam at each other across the room makes her heart skip a beat. Loosening her scarf and a rendition of Jingle Bells that's a little off-key is a price she's more than willing to pay.
Afterward, there are cookies and hot chocolate, and then the tough conversation. They've had it a half-dozen times since Thanksgiving, but Becca still has a hard time understanding it. Too outside of her worldview, Mel had explained. Changes are hard for her.
"What do you mean I'm not coming home with you?" She says, voice just a little too loud. Becca's eyes are wide and disbelieving, and Trinity's hand finds the small of Mel's back in silent support.
Most of the residents have cleared out already, led out into the cold by their families for the trek home before Santa Claus arrives. There are just a handful of residents with family members that can't accommodate them at home on this night, who have to stay here with the caretakers (who no doubt have families of their own at home) and Becca is one of them.
"I know this is hard to understand," Mel says, patiently. Trinity has heard her explain each of those half-dozen times, yet she still manages to keep any trace of annoyance out of her voice.
"It doesn't help anyone if you try to tell her you've already explained," Mel had told Trinity once. "It doesn't magically make her remember, and it's just more frustrating for everyone involved."
"But I have to work, and so does Trinity," Mel continues, and Trinity gives her a pressed-lip smile. "I'll pick you up right after my shift and then you and I will do presents at home."
"But what about Santa?" Becca insists, agitated. "How will he know where I am?"
"He knows," Trinity jumps in. "Trust me. The big guy always knows."
Her eyes are wide and wet, but she finally nods. "Alright. As long as you promise."
"We promise."
Their fingers brush as Mel passes over the thermos of coffee they're sharing, her breath fogging the air. It's early Christmas morning, and the streets are quiet. An ambulance passes them by, lights flashing but no sirens.
"Did Becca have a good night?" Trinity murmurs. She'd seen Mel checking her phone as they'd gotten ready for work. It's only ever the caretakers that text her that early in the morning.
Mel shrugs. "They played some games after everyone left, but she didn't really want to participate," Trinity knows Becca well enough to know that's unusual. "But they're making pancakes for breakfast, and they've got some presents to pass around. It should be fun."
Trinity nods. "That's good."
Mel nods too, and the little jingle bells that she'd tied into her braid that morning sound off cheerily.
The Christmas spirit, at least, has descended upon PTMC. It must have been a slow night, because there are wreaths and lights decking the waiting room and the hub where there hadn't been the day before. Dana greets them with hugs and "Merry Christmases," and Trinity watches Mel brighten at least a little.
"Coffee and donuts in the break room," Dana tells them. "And don't forget to check under the tree- I think Santa brought you each a little something."
"Thanks, Dana," they say in unison.
They don't get a chance to, though - there's a trauma inbound within two minutes. Trinity hides her grimace and gets to work.
If Trinity was worried that Mel's holiday spirit would fade, she was mistaken. Within an hour, Mel is cheerier than ever. She bounces between rooms, wishing patients Happy Holidays, sneaking kids candy canes and their parents dark chocolates. From time to time, she can hear her moving around the ED - bells bouncing with every step she takes, and it makes her smile.
Despite the occasion, or maybe because of it, spirits are high in the ED that day.
"Morning, Louis," Trinity smiles as she helps him into the gurney. His breath smells like peppermint schnapps today. "Feeling festive today?"
"Don't you know it," he grins, that wide, guileless grin, and Trinity has no choice but to smile back.
"My sister and I love Christmas, too," Trinity hears Mel saying when she walks past a patient room that afternoon.
There's a little boy in there, waiting with his grandmother for her head CT. Black ice, a slip and fall at the base of the stairs leading to her row house. Nothing traumatic, but certainly scary. The boy's been inconsolable the entire time they've been there.
Trinity peeks in the window and finds that the tears have stopped, at least for the moment. What's left behind are shiny, wet tear tracks down both of his cheeks. He's fiddling with the bells at the end of Mel's braid. She's smiling at him, that soft, patient one that does something funny to Trinity's insides.
"What did you ask Santa to bring you?"
One of the perks of being an attending, Trinity has learned, is that holidays are for the peons. Robby, nor any of the other attending physicians, are anywhere to be seen. It means it's up to the senior residents - in this instance, Langdon - to keep the ED running in his absence.
The holiday cheer has clearly skipped Dr. Frank Langdon. From the moment he got in this morning, his expression has been nothing short of thunderous. Trinity's doing her best to avoid him. Even if the circumstances of her first day at The Pitt are water under the bridge at this point, she still knows better than to get in his way when he's in one of his moods.
Still, there's not much she can do to stay out of his way when - by early afternoon - the board is cleared. All of their boarders are pretty much tucked in for the night, and even the phone has been silent for hours. No traumas inbound.
Mel and Trinity find themselves hovering around Dana's station, picking at a plate of cookies she'd snuck out of the breakroom. Nearby, Langdon frowns, leaning against the desk and staring up at the board like he's waiting for a new patient to magically appear. Even chairs is unusually quiet. The most serious case they've seen in an hour is a finger lac from a recent groom trying to impress his new father-in-law with his ham carving skills.
"Raspberry or peach?" Mel murmurs, holding up a selection of thumbprint cookies for Trinity's inspection. She takes the raspberry.
Langdon exhales, long and frustrated. Trinity and Mel exchange a look before turning to stare at him.
"Fine," he says, aggrieved, like they've been hounding him about this for hours. "I'm going to regret this. Get out of here before I change my mind."
Mel blinks.
"What?"
"Go home," Langdon repeats, waving his hand dismissively in their general direction. "No reason for all of us to be stuck here when there's nothing going on."
Trinity blinks at him. Then blinks again.
"Okay," she says, slowly, and pushes herself to her feet.
Together, they skirt around their Senior Resident and make their way to the row of lockers.
"Merry Christmas, ladies," Dana calls after them, and Trinity can hear the smile in her voice.
As soon they're bundled up once more, pushing their way out of the hospital into the frigid, early-evening air, Mel is pulling out her phone. She's halfway through dialing when she pauses.
"Are you-" there's an odd sort of hesitation in her voice, her gaze, when she looks at Trinity. It doesn't fit her features. "Do you still want to come over?"
The question is a surprise, drawing her to a stop. Their hands - fingers entwined - stretch between them before Mel takes a half-step back toward her to keep their grip from breaking. "What?"
"Do you still want to come over?" Trinity doesn't think it's just the cold making her cheeks pink. "My place. With Becca."
She says the last like she has to clarify, and understanding finally dawns. Trinity pushes down the urge to feel offended.
"Of course," she tilts her head at her girlfriend. "Why wouldn't I?"
Now it's Mel's turn to frown, and she drops her gaze somewhere near Trinity's feet. "Because," she shrugs. "Spending the night watching Christmas movies with me and my sister isn't- it's not the most exciting way to spend your Christmas."
Oh. Trinity laughs.
"As opposed to what?" She tips her head, trying to catch Mel's gaze. "Spending the night on my couch with my cats? Facetiming Dennis?"
Mel's cheeks flame even brighter. She shrugs.
"I know you don't like Elf."
Trinity laughs.
"Baby," she uses her grip to tug at Mel's hand, pulling her closer. "You don't like Elf either."
She finally looks at her, and Trinity can see the timid hope in her gaze. She wonders what she did to make her question this, what she may have said to make Mel think that spending her Christmas with her and Becca wasn't the only thing in the world she'd like to be doing tonight.
But then again, maybe it isn't what Trinity did. Maybe it was what someone did before her. She still remembers the look MEl had given her the morning after their first date - when she'd looked at with sleep-bleary eyes, the early-morning light turning them hazel, and beamed. "You stayed."
Instead of waiting for Mel to respond, to put her gratitude into unnecessary words, Trinity kisses her. Her lips are cold, but when she snakes a hand beneath her coat and tugs her closer by the small of her back, her skin is warm. Trinity smiles.
"Come on," she murmurs. "Let's go home."
Back at home, Trinity leans back in Mel's overstuffed couch, mug of hot chocolate warming her hands, while the sisters camp on the floor. They're a vision in their matching red-and-white striped pajamas - Trinity's gift. Becca had insisted they put them on as soon as they'd been unwrapped. It's the cutest fucking thing Trinity's ever seen.
It's not a quiet affair, watching Elf with Becca. Already, Trinity can't ever imagine watching it any other way.
"The best way to spread Christmas cheer-" Will Ferrell begins on the screen.
"Is singing loud for all to hear!" all three girls finish in unison.
Becca giggles, thrilled, eyes glued to the screen. Mel turns, catching Trinity's eye, and beams.
Maybe she can get behind this whole Christmas thing.