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“Time for a new beginning,” Santos said looking around the room that she called hers for over a year. It had taken her longer to pack this time than the previous ones, having gathered more possessions and memories in her year in Pittsburgh than anywhere else. Hell even when she moved from New York to Boston for med school she hadn’t brough much with her. This time she had several boxes of items that weren’t just clothes and textbooks.
She wondered how many versions of herself she'd left behind in other apartments over the years. New York, Boston and now Pittsburgh. She always told herself each move was different, that there was always a good reason. College, then med school and then her residency. Always an excuse about why she needed to leave and why she never stepped foot there again. Eventually, the excuses started sounding the same.
Santos shut the door to her room before picking up the last few boxes. Her eyes lingered on the stupid dining room table that she and Whitaker found online for a cheap price. They had struggled to get the heavy table up the four stories of the apartment they lived in since the elevator never worked.
Tears gathered in her eyes as memories flashed through her mind as she ran a hand along the bare wall. Late night with Whitaker fighting over the amount of avocados he consumes and him leaving his dirty clothes everywhere, Javadi coming over to study with them and then later on just coming over to watch movies and playing video games. More recently Mel and her stumbling through the front door after another karaoke night.
Leaving the apartment Santos set down the box so she could lock up the apartment and when she lifted it back up her grip on the box shifted a few textbooks over to reveal a picture frame. It was a picture taken recently during Christmas. It was one of her, Whitaker, Javadi and Mel squeezed into frame between patients during the quick break they were allowed to have. Whitaker looking like he’d been caught mid-laugh, Mel leaning into him, Javadi trying to look serious and failing, Santos barely holding a straight face, regretting being part of it. Someone had taped a snowflake paper above them that kept threatening to fall into the shot.
Her finger traced over the frame gently before shifting the items inside to make sure it was protected properly. “Yeah,” she muttered under her breath, almost annoyed at herself. “Of course I’m taking this.”
Hopefully Huckleberry will be okay, Santos thought as she trudged down the stairs over the apartment. Maybe Crash can move in with him.
Santos sighed as she finished backing the last of her boxes into her old car, before heading back inside, handing over her apartment key over to the landlord. The man smiled at her and Santos tried to smile back but it felt strain.
This was not a happy occasion. Honestly Santos wasn’t sure how her program director managed it but she had found another Emergency Residency on the other side of the country far from Pittsburgh. It was a trauma one level hospital as well which brought relief to Santos.
The reason for her desperation to get out had to with July Fourth. It was simply the event that started the clock. It had been six months since that horrible day, and things had only gotten worse for Santos. The moment Langdon came back, it felt like any progress she'd made with her coworkers went down the drain except for Whitaker.
Once more Santos felt like an outsider looking in, watching as Langdon was welcomed back with open arms and she was pushed out. Invitations that somehow never reached her unless it was Mel or Whitaker who extended them and even then there was tension in the air whenever she joined. Santos took the hint and started declining them until eventually both of them stopped asking. Every glance felt accusatory, every whisper felt like it was about her. Maybe it wasn't, maybe she was imagining some of it. But after six months she couldn't tell the difference anymore.
Santos had let it roll off of her like she had done in the past but eventually they wore her down. A scalpel had a permanent spot in her medicine cabinet, her thigh becoming a canvas of red raised flesh as new scars appeared.
She was tired of trying to be the bigger person. In a fucked-up sense Garcia was right; Langdon was there to stay but that didn’t mean she had to be. Deep down Santos knew running wouldn’t solve anything. It hadn’t solved the pain of her best friend’s death, nor did it solve the pain of what her gymnastics coach did but it was all Santos knew how to do. She was getting embarrassingly good at leaving, better at it than staying, anyway.
Its for the best, Santos thought as she slid into the driver’s seat. I can’t learn under a man who stole drugs and put patients at harm with no consequences. She really didn’t care that Langdon was an addict, what she cared about was the fact he didn’t face any consequences. Him having to repeat his senior year wasn’t the worse that could have happened, something both of them knew.
Santos told herself that that was the only reason. That the looks, the whispers that reached her ears from the nursing staff and the new rotation of med students didn’t bother her or made her feel like the villain for running someone’s life again.
Her eyes drifted to the cardboard box sitting on the passenger seat. Nestled between textbooks and loose paperwork was a chipped blue coffee mug she should have thrown away months ago. Garcia had left it at the apartment after a night shift and somehow it had become permanent. For a second Santos could almost hear her complaining about the hospital coffee while stealing half the pot Santos had made. Before the memory could settle, Santos looked back at the road.
Her thoughts drifted to Garcia and the grip Santos had on the steering wheel tightened until her knuckles were white. The surgeon who had somehow managed to capture Santos’ heart. What started as just a one-time hookup stretched into becoming casual that then blurred the lines when Garcia started staying over or when Santos went to her place and cooked dinner. The lines they crossed when they made plans on their shared days off that didn’t end in sex and the fact they kept spare clothes at each other’s apartments.
When Santos had tried to bring up what they were Garcia had shot her down with a “we’re just casual right?” which left Santos confused. Then July Fourth told Santos where they stood with each other, that all she was good for was Garcia’s stress relief toy. She wondered if the surgeon would even cared that she was gone. They had continued hooking up after that faithful day though this time Santos made sure not to cross any boundaries. The first time she had left Garcia cornered her asking if something happened but Santos just shook her head and said that since they were casual there was no need for her to spend the night.
Over the next few months Santos could see Garcia’s frustration and confusion increase as she was pushed away but Santos didn’t care anymore. A month ago Santos finally gathered the strength to call it quits on what they were doing leaving behind a frustrated and annoyed Garcia at the coffee shop they frequently visited.
She probably already has her sights set on some new intern or resident that can warm her bed, Santos thought as she threw the car into drive. The need to escape and never return to Pittsburgh boiling inside of her.
The worse part was knowing that when Whitaker returned from his shift he was going to be confused and hurt coming home to an empty apartment. Santos could already picture her mousey roommate stepping into their shared space, tugging his dirty clothes off and leaving them on the floor, calling out to her about what they should do for dinner and watch that night.
Santos could imagine the confusion when she doesn’t answered, going to her room and knocking only for the door to open just enough for him to see the room was empty. The next thing he would do would be to call her, then when she doesn’t answer Whitaker would call everyone else hoping someone would have seen or heard from her today before he would fine the note she left him on the stupid table they never used.
Santos knew it was wrong, fuck it was shitty, even. But she'd always been better at disappointing people from a distance than watching their faces when she did it up close. But if she stayed until he got home, Santos didn’t think she would have the strength to leave then. Over a year ago she found him living on the abandoned eighth floor of the hospital and took him home after only knowing him for fifteen hours. A year of them living together, getting close until they knew things about each other that no one else knew.
Santos told herself that she would call him once she got to California, that she would let Whitaker know she was alive and okay. Though Santos already knew how that phone call was going to go. There would be lots of screaming, lots of tears, (from him not from her Santos decided), but eventually they would be okay. Santos would invite him out to California and he would come with Mel and even Javadi.
Her phone chimed and Santos saw a message in the group chat she had with Mel, Whitaker and Javadi. It was Javadi asking if they were still on for movie night and if it was okay for her to sleep at their place instead of driving home.
Santos didn’t answer, her heart clenching hard enough that it hurt. She thought about how none of them had known her plan, how she had decided three months ago that Pittsburgh wasn’t worth staying anymore. They didn’t know she had decided one night after hooking up with Garcia who once again tried to convince Santos to stay the night but also didn’t stop her from calling an Uber.
For a while her phone was silent except for the occasional text or notification but Santos knew soon it would start ringing none stop. She flipped it to silent, not wanting to be distracted, to be given the chance to be persuaded to come home.
The gas station was nearly empty when the first call came. Santos stood beside her car while the pump clicked steadily behind her. The highway stretched endlessly beyond the parking lot, disappearing into the darkness. A moment later a second, followed by a third and a fourth. On and on it went while Santos ate cheap sandwiches from the gas station and walked around to stretch her legs.
Finally she pulled it from her pocket. Most of the calls were Whitaker and a lump formed in her throat before she shoved it back down. She looked through the texts.
Huckleberry: Do you want me to stop at that Thai place tonight for dinner?
Huckleberry: Trinity?
Huckleberry: Did I do something?
Huckleberry: What the fuck Trinity? You just left without a goodbye? All I get is a fucking note?
Huckleberry: Pick up the phone.
Huckleberry: God fucking damn it Trinity. Answer your fucking phone!
Melanoma: Please tell me you're okay.
Crash: Whitaker is freaking out. Call someone please.
Another message from Mel, then another this time from Robby along with a voicemail. She figured he would be getting the email soon about her leaving the ED though she had hoped it would be a few days from now.
Her eyebrow raised as a new text appeared on her screen. This time it was from Garcia.
Garcia: Why the hell is Farm Boy calling me freaking out asking if I’ve seen you?
Before Santos could debate on answering another text came through.
Garcia: You fucking left? Where the fuck are you?
Garcia: White Chocolate said you took all your shit? What the hell are you doing?
Santos stared at the screen and for a moment she imagined getting back in the car and heading east instead of west. She imagined Whitaker opening the apartment door and finding her sitting at the stupid table they never used. Imagined Mel looking relive and grabbing her arm. Santos could imagined Javadi rolling her eyes and calling her dramatic but being happy to see her.
Garcia’s face flashed through her mind, the anger that would burn in her gaze before she most likely would take Santos to bed and give her reasons to stay.
The pump clicked signaling that her tank was full.
Santos looked toward the highway entrance before turning to look back to the city.
One turn, that was all it would take. One turn and she could go back with apologizes and empty promises.
Her grip tightened around the phone as it rang again, Whitaker’s profile coming up.
Some things were easier to leave behind than fix, Santos thought as she climbed back into the driver's seat and started the engine. A second later she pulled onto the highway and headed west.
July 4th, 2028
The emergency department was already overflowing, and it was only eight in the morning. Santos checked the tracking board and immediately regretted it.
“Fifty in the waiting room,” she muttered as she sipped the terrible hospital coffee
“Fifty one,” a voice said behind her. She looked up to the side and caught sight of Alex who was standing beside her holding a tablet. “Someone just checked in.”
“Fantastic,” Santos grumbled taking a sip of her coffee before making a face.
“It could be worse,” Alex said with a strained smile that looked more like a grimace. “Why do you still drink that shit if its so terrible?”
Santos glared at him. “Because it does the job and I didn’t have time to make myself coffee at home. I rather drink this then pay the four bucks or whatever this hospital charges for a normal coffee.”
Alex looked genuinely thoughtful which made Santos want to slap him. “That's fair.”
Santos walked away before he could continue knowing she would need more coffee to put up with him. The department buzzed with controlled chaos around them. Nurses moved quickly between rooms. Monitors beeped constantly. Somewhere down the hall a patient was yelling.
Normal unfortunately.
A voice called after her. “Trinity!” Emily jogged toward her; intern badge bounced against her scrubs. The girl was her roommate who Santos took in after discovering the girl was living at different homeless shelters over a year prior. The day they met Santos couldn’t help but think of Whitaker and wonder how he was doing. “You have a second?”
“No,” Santos muttered as she sat down to chart.
“Okay, but hypothetically-” Emily started but Santos quickly cut her off.
“No, I am trying to chart. Go find a patient to take care of. Plenty of idiots here for that today.”
Emily sighed and gave her a pout with those big blue said eyes that always seemed to tear down her walls. “You didn't even hear the question.”
“If it starts with hypothetically the answer is no.”
“You sound exactly like-” Emily stopped herself.
Santos narrowed her eyes turning in her chair as her roommate slowly backed up knowing she almost said the wrong thing. “Like who?”
A trauma alert suddenly echoed overhead and a look of relief passed over Emily as the entire department shifted gears instantly. Santos was already moving to the ambulance bay as her attending called for them both.
“Let's go, Cowgirl,” Santos said and smiled when she heard Emily grumble about the nickname but followed along.
A stretcher burst through the ambulance bay doors paramedics explaining the injury. Of course, fireworks were the cause of the missing fingers on the teen boy, who was crying and asking for his sister.
For the rest of her shift everything blurred together. Taking and calling out orders, assessments, procedures. Answering questions when asked. Flirting with the cute trauma surgeon, one Doctor Elena Ramirez, whenever she came down. Emily glared at the woman, knowing how often she was over at the apartment and how Santos felt towards her despite trying to not catch feelings.
The only difference was this time Santos made sure to not voice anything about how she felt. It wasn’t worth repeating the same mistake.
At the end of the shift Santos allowed Emily to drag her to the roof to watch fireworks when she spotted Jacob across the department looking as wrung out as she felt. The third-year resident was somehow balancing a phone between his shoulder and ear while reviewing labs talking loudly
“Hey Drew,” Jacob said. “The facility said you made plans tonight?” Santos almost turned away remembering a similar conversation Mel had last year with her own sister. “I mean that’s fine Drew, I just would have liked to have known is all.”
A moment later Santos sighed and rubbed a hand over her face. She hadn’t hung out with Jacob before but that didn’t stop her from motioning at Emily to wait and head over to where Jacob stood making sure to allow him to have time to finish his call.
“Hey Santos do you need anything?” Jacob asked.
“Let’s go out tonight,” Santos said. “After we watch some fireworks why don’t you, Emily, Alex and I go do something?”
A few feet away Alex who heard his name, perked up. “Oh can we do karaoke?” he asked. “I never been to a karaoke bar and it sounds like fun.”
Santos nodded and motioned for him to go to where Emily waited. His eyes lit up with delight, and he bounded over to the intern who looked like she was keeping herself upright by sheer-will.
“I guess that sound like fun,” Jacob said. “I never sang in public before.”
“You’ll get use to it,” Santos said and motioned at him to follow her to the stairs where the other two were waiting.
A nurse walked by. “Happy Fourth, Dr. Santos.”
Santos snorted and held back a yawn as she took a sip from her now warm Redbull. “What's happy about it?”
The nurse laughed and kept going about their business. They small group made their way up to the roof where everyone else from day shift was already sitting around and drinking watching as the fireworks exploded overhead showering them in different colors.
Her phone stayed quiet which hurt more than Santos wanted to admit. It had been that way for a month and half now. The ache of that loss never completely disappeared and maybe it never would. Mel was the first to stop trying to reach out, then Javadi, then Garcia and finally Whitaker. She still had his last voicemail saved on her phone. Him calling her an asshole and running wouldn’t change anything and to not bother ever coming back to Pittsburgh. On rough days when Santos felt like texting him or calling she would play that voicemail as a reminder of the bridges she had burned.
The last message was from Garcia, a text message. The surgeon admitted she understood why Santos left, that what they had was more than casual and she was an idiot for not trying harder, for not being the more mature person and actually talking to Santos like she should have. It was so unlike Garcia that it made Santos almost call to make sure the older woman was okay.
Javadi and Mel both left text saying that the ED felt wrong without her, like they were missing a piece of what made them function. Santos had sneered at that, wanting to call bullshit but a small part of her wondered if she had gotten things wrong with Langdon’s return. Maybe she was wrong, maybe she wasn’t being push out but it didn’t matter anymore. All those bridges had been burned.
Around her, Emily shouted something at Alex that got lost in laughter. Jacob tilted his head back to watch the sky like he was trying to memorize it. Santos took another sip of warm energy drink and leaned against the railing. Six months ago, someone would have been calling her begging her to answer.
Now, no one was going to and despite how much Santos said it didn’t bother her, the small part of her heart ached knowing she had burned another bridge of her life. Behind her Santos heard the sound of a phone camera but didn’t care enough to tell the person to not tag her in any photos. Instead she turned her gaze towards the sky and watched the darkness light up with different colors.
Cheers to me, Santos thought. A year and a half this time. A new personal record. Maybe that counted for something.