Work Text:
Whitaker wouldn't be the first person to fall into her orbit, circle a few times, and eject to other skies.
Santos can actually feel it happening.
She knows it is her fault.
It has always been her fault, and she feels helpless to it, even as the ejecting words fall from her lips.
He has other people now, he has some measure of stability, he can decide he doesn't need her shit anymore.
He can decide he's sick of her and her abrasion, it's his prerogative
(She knows that she is starting to leave claw marks)
(She can't force him to stay)
She knows it is her fault because she helps people and then they don't need help anymore and she is alone.
(Again)
Once, Whitaker would have found an excuse to stay at the hospital while she finished charting. But not tonight. Tonight he's going to go check on Robby's place, make sure it isn't going to get burned down by fireworks.
Garcia has settled into an elliptical orbit. A push-pull, greedy when she's close and bereft when she is gone.
(Elliptical orbits eject)
(All orbits eject, eventually)
It's her fault from the outset, trying to grab at the person who gave her a moment of attention, even after she had hurt her. Even after that person said she was “trouble”.
She had flirted with her. She had cared enough to try to teach her.
(She was going to leave when she was sick of her shit)
The truth is a beautiful concept. People should care about what is true.
(But shrapnel is shrapnel)
People didn't care about the truth. They didn't care when she was a child to be harmed.
They didn't care when patients were being stolen from.
(At the end of the day she is alone with the things she has done)