Work Text:
“We’re just keeping it casual, right?” And the elevator doors slid closed. Yolanda could have driven a scalpel right between her ribs, and Trinity is sure it would have hurt less than the words thrown out onto the floor of the emergency department. Sure, it was better to keep things casual, especially when you work so closely, but when weeks become months, and those months almost create a full year, it’s to be expected that actual feelings would come into play, right?
Trinity had her fair share of casual hook-ups in med school. In fact, she had more than her fair share. With the sheltered life her parents built for her, paired with the broken trust that others had taken over her body, she could have practically locked herself in a chastity belt during her undergrad. However, the independence that a lucky (not lucky, well-earned) full-ride scholarship gave her in medical school allowed her experiment a lot with her sexuality, on her own terms.
Something about Yolanda was different. For one, Yolanda didn’t look at Trinity’s scars like they were broken, something that needed to be fixed. Medical students tended to fixate on that, and that was a sure-fire way to get Trinity to go ghost. The first time Trinity had gone to the surgical resident’s flat, she had been prepared for just a quick, hushed, hook-up that would never be discussed again. She didn’t even tell Dennis who she was going to see.
But Yolanda took her by surprise, preparing one of the first substantial, home-cooked meals that Trinity had had in years. When dinner led to the older woman’s bedroom and fleeting touches became tight grips, Trinity wasn’t expecting her breath to catch in her throat, sensations overwhelming her in a way she thought she had left behind. She rushed apologies through tear-brimmed eyes, pulling her shirt back over her head. Before she could duck through the threshold into the living room to grab her keys, Yolanda beckoned her back, holding her and whispering sweet nothings until she had fallen asleep.
They woke up together in the morning, and while Trinity was quick to try and explain her actions to Yolanda, she was hushed and handed a plate of buttered toast and a mug of coffee. Once she plugged her phone in on the unoccupied nightstand, she would discover a lot of worried-turned-angry texts from Dennis, but that would be brushed over later during quiet locker room conversations.
While Trinity was proud to say that she had beaten the stereotypes of moving in within the first month, she had spent many more times in Yolanda’s flat, especially on the rare occasion that both had a day off the next morning. Besides, Trinity thinks Dennis enjoys having time alone in their apartment to play house with whatever mystery man he is steadfastly refusing to introduce to her.
Their visits usually consisted of the same basics of their first night, with the occasional additions of whatever TV show Yolanda was insistent on watching that night. It had become routine. It was Trinity’s new normal, so she never thought to occupy herself with the thought of labels and statuses. They had an unspoken bond between them, and she was satisfied with just that. Until she wasn’t.
As the first few months came to a close, it became harder and harder for Trinity not to bring work home with her into Yolanda’s home. Cases of abusive fathers, men who couldn’t keep their hands to themselves, and children lost in the middle of it all plagued her sleep. She threw herself into Yolanda’s embrace, hoping she would chase away the thoughts that would never fully leave her alone.
Yolanda never asked questions, not until a wandering hand felt sterile gauze and tape instead of grooves and ridges littered on smooth skin. The hand caressing her thigh was ripped away as if it had touched a hot stove, and any arousal left in Trinity’s body was quickly rinsed clean. Trinity wasn’t sure what words, if any, were spoken between the two, but the two of them ended up sitting on the bathroom tiles as Yolanda redid her bandages with surgical precision, and a conversation ended with a pinky promise to call the other if it ever got that bad again.
And many more months passed by. Whatever they had going on became a much harder secret to keep as time passed, and by the time the information got to Princess and Perlah, there was no more fighting it. Trinity managed to avoid an awkward conversation about workplace boundaries with Robby for at least a week until she was cornered after a trauma. It was a conversation that neither of them wanted a part in, but was necessary to check some sort of box up in the ivory tower.
Dennis kept asking Trinity what was going on between her and Yolanda, and she felt the weight between them grow heavier every time she told him that it was just a casual fling. She knew he didn’t believe her, and she wasn’t even sure if she believed herself. It had all come to a head when Dennis asked her again after a long shift, and Trinity had cussed the younger man out, insulting him for relying on her so much. He packed a bag and slept on Victoria’s floor that night, much to the displeasure of her parents.
Trinity couldn’t remember the last time she had been fully, truly, alone, and any attempts to call Yolanda were either met with the same, pre-recorded voicemail message that sounded more joyful than Yolanda would ever like to admit, or slurred sentences drowned out by electronic music. The next time they saw each other was around a week after that night, and neither of them had the bravery to bring up the dry, darkening scabs that sat among valleys of skin.
It’s not like Trinity had any other plans to choose from the night of the fourth. Spending the night watching fireworks with the woman she loved cared about was at the top of her list, and she had hoped Yolanda would feel the same way. Maybe, if their shifts had both gone well, and the vibe was right, they could finally have a conversation about what they actually were.
But Yolanda needed a rain check. And Trinity was trying her absolute best to be understanding. Even as they worked side by side on hard cases, and Langdon was deadset on talking to her, and all of the nightmares she thought she had escaped for good were clawing through the edges of her brain. All she wanted was the comfort of Yolanda, but she couldn’t get that, and she wasn’t sure if she could ever again.