Work Text:
It was her fault, she didn't fight hard enough, she could have convinced Kiara, she could have helped that kid. The news come a few days later, when the kid she suspected was being abused was brought back to the ER. There was nothing they could do now, the poor baby was already cold when she got there. The body was covered in bruises, fractured pelvis, internal bleeding...
It was all her fault, she knew, she felt it when she saw her not even a week before. Trinity saw the flinching and the old bruises, the panic in the little girl's eyes as her dad came in, how he squeezed her shoulder a bit too tight while reassuring Kiara that she hurt herself falling off a bike. She could have-...she could have told someone else, she could have called someone else who believed what she suspected, she could have argued more with Robby when he dismissed her suspicions.
They call the time, she tries not to cry when they stay in silence. Trinity leaves as quick as possible after the minute of silence, she rushes to an empty hall, in hopes no one will come by. But she was never lucky was she? She hears footsteps and is relieved to see Garcia. Though her relief is quickly overshadowed by the expression on Garcia's face. Why is she always so pissed off?
"Garcia did something happen? I wanted to talk to you but if you need help i can-".
Garcia cut her off "For fuck's sake not right now Santos, seriously I can't deal with another one of your venting sessions. We talked about this, see a fucking therapist!"
She is already rushing off before finishing the last sentence. Trinity is petrified. Something between hurt and terrified of fucking up with the one person who wanted her. Didn't want her enough to listen tho. Didn't want her enough to stay for aftercare. Didn't want her enough-...
She didn't want her, she wanted sex, she wanted to let off some steam, and Trinity was just the closest and easiest thing she could find.
Trinity feels her throat tighten once again, her eyes blurring as she rushes to the bathroom.
When she closes the door behind her the world crushes her shoulders. She lets herself stumble back against the wall, knees giving up from under her, letting hit the ground.
She can't see. Her eyes too blurry with tears to make out anything surrounding her. She's alone. She's a fuck up and she can't stop ruining everyone around her. She can't save anybody. She can't even save herself.
Her hands tremble down her body to scramble in the pockets of her scrubs.
Where is it, where? I need something, anything, please-
Her hand is poked by something. There it is.
Slowly, regardless of her trembling hands, she takes the scalpel out of her pocket. She can't see but she knows that's it, she lets it sit in her hand for a few seconds before lowering her scrubs to reveal her thigh just enough.
She takes the safety cap off and just looks at her leg.
She doesn't see much through the tears, but she doesn't need to. She knows every scar that's there. She remembers the position of each. She remembers the sting, she yearns for it. She yearns for something that will make her feel like she punished herself for what she did and at the same time gives her that feeling of ecstasy, that bliss like coming back from the high of an orgasm.
She drags the blade across her skin, one time, two times. She already calms down, her vision coming back as the tears slow down, seeing the lines turning red. Another one, and another, and anoth-
Fuck, fuckfuckfuckfuck too deep, I can't pass out in the bathroom of the ER I can't-
The blood was flowing fast from her leg, dripping on the floor as she tried to fond something to lean on to stand up, but she couldn't. She couldn't stand up. The blood was flowing faster and her leg was going numb, all she could do was cry and pray that some idiot she could trust (probably fucking huckleberry) would find her, help her and keep their mouth shut.
☆
Frank was once again forced to work in triage. It had been 4 months since he came back and Robby still sent him to triage.
He should ask to switch to the night shift. Maybe Abbot was more forgiving, and he could try to start again.
As he was coming back from the man's room he heard a sob. He froze in his tracks.
He must have misheard that.
The sob came again, and with it a sniffle.
He did not mishear that.
He slowly approached the door of the women's room.
A gentle knock "Is anyone in there?" Another knock "everything's alright? I heard a sob"
No answer for a few seconds but, just before he decided to walk away, a low wail came from behind the door.
"Fuck is everything ok? Do I need to call someone? Is the door unlocked? Do you need help?"
He was quickly silenced by the sound of the door unlocking. From inside the bathroom a voice.
"Don't tell anyone else, just get the fuck in here and you better not tell a soul"
☆
Santos doesn't know with what kind of strength she dragged herself to the door to unlock it.
Why him, why him!? Of all people, why him? He will tell everyone, he'll tell Robby-
Frank comes in and quickly locks the door behind him, when he turns around his face crumbles. What is in front of his eyes is unbelievable to him, of all the people in the world never could he imagine.
"You-"
"I don't wanna hear it just get be a suture kit and something to clean up"
"But-"
"No Langdon"
"You are bleeding on the floor, in the bathroom of the ER"
"Aren't you perceptive"
"Let me take a look at least, you can't do it alone you're crying, you can barely see probably-"
"Don't-...don't look at it. Don't look at me. Don't touch it. Don't talk about it-"
"You have a scalpel in your hands, you have slashes across your thigh and your first thought is 'Don't tell anyone?'. Jesus Christ Santos we'll cross that bridge when we get there, now let me examine your leg. You might need more than stitches, I need to be sure."
A deafening silence followed that statement. Trinity slowly moved her hand away from her thigh.
"Fine. But I'm sure I'll only need stitches"
Frank slowly crouches down to her. Inspecting her leg.
"Jesus Santos...ok you'll only need a clean up and stitches. But in doing it. You're not patching up your own leg like this"
"But-"
"No, Trinity. I'm serious. Stay put ill be right back"
Frank quickly got out of the bathroom, he got back in less than a minute with a suture kit
"I need you to move as little as possible now, ok"
"...yeah" Santos answered, voice barely above a whisper
As Frank gets to work to clean the cuts Trinity feels an overwhelming wave of guilt hit her suddenly.
He's being so nice. He's being so nice and he's being so gentle and I'm forcing him to see something so ugly and fucked up. He's not even mad. He didn't scream at me. He didn't mock me and now he's stuck cleaning cuts. God I can't do one thing right. I'm always someone else's problem I-
"I'm sorry" the words come out of Trinity's mouth before she can fully think them through. How...pathetic. Her voice trembling, her eyes full of tears.
Langdon seems confused by the statement.
God he probably thinks I'm so pathetic. Opening my skin like an angsty teen and-
"Why are you apologising?"
Trinity freezes..."Because it's pathetic and it's ugly and you shouldn't have to-"
"No no no Santos don't go there. Don't do this to yourself. I offered to help. I'm not disgusted by you and I'm not laughing. This is about something way too complicated to be labels as 'pathetic"' Let me finish patching you up and then we can talk ok?"
"...yeah, yeah ok"
The silence that follows is different. It's not uncomfortable and it's not scary. Santos sits looking at Langdon work. In a few minutes the wound is closed and she's able to pull her scrubs back up, to hide the bandage.
"Don't try to stand up yet. Wait it out a bit"
Trinity nods silently
"So. Can we talk about it? Because I don't think this is something I can just ignore. And if you can't talk to me, then I have to tell someone, so they can talk to you-"
"No! No please don't. I-...I think it's best I talk to you, you had to see this shit already, might as well go through with the humiliation."
Langdon sighs in frustration
"Why do you keep talking about it like it's embarrassing. It's not- Trinity look at me. It's not. We both know I'm no one to judge."
Trinity falls silent again. She can feel her eyes sting again, but she holds the tears back
"Because I'm embarrassed that I can't stop. Every time, every single time I relapse at every little inconvenience. It's the only way I can feel something and nothing at the same time I-"
"Need it to survive, to hold on? You can't stop because deep down a part of you doesn't want to give up the one thing that stops the pain, no matter how self destructive it is?"
Trinity let's the tears fall, gives up being composed. She was bleeding out 5 minutes ago so why bother?
"Yes. And I really wanna stop but I also know that if I can't cope this way then I won't make it out alive. And I'm so alone all of the time I don't have anyone to lean on, I don't have anyone to get better for. And I know I should do it for myself but it's like no one cares. Yes, Huckleberry is some sort of a friend now but he has his own life. He has Robby and he is so, so fucked up on his own I just feel so guilty dumping it all on someone. I tried therapy but it made me get worse. I felt too judged and like I was being diagnosed for anything I said. I don't want a doctor I want a friend who I know can handle this. Handle me. Listen to me and I can listen to them and we can help eachother by being there. Someone who won't look at me like I failed when and if I relapse and I just-"
Santos can't finish the sentence. Her sobs cutting her off.
Suddenly she feels a hand on her shoulder, sleeping, not too tight, just...there, present, listening.
"I get it. I do. It's shit. And it's difficult. And on bad days it all fogs up and you're left with your own thoughts. You find a way to deal with anything that comes your way, anger, sadness, guilt, pain. You find it and you can't let it go. Because it's the only thing you can feel really helps you. And it takes time to get out of it...
I mean jesus I should know. I was stealing meds from this shithole to get by. And you didn't let it slide. And you were right.
Now I need you to know that it's human, to find something to cope with. But I also want you to know that it does get better. That's the road to get there is shit but it does get better eventually. And that if there's anything I can do to help I'm here ok?"
Trinity nods, letting her head fall against Langdon shoulder.
"I'm here ok? You can call me whenever and if you relapse you can tell me and I'll patch you up. No judgment. Now lean on me and try to get up ok?"
"Yeah. Yeah I can do it."
"I know"