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Jack has just finished with truly one of the worst shifts he’s had in years.
One of the patients he saw overnight was seventeen. Even hours later, he just can’t shake the image of this kid. Her bruises. How she flinched when any of the male nurses or doctors reached toward her. The way her parents rushed in through the waiting room and broke down when they saw her.
He carries it with him all the way home, right up to the door. But he’s ready to let it go. Robby’s got the day off, Trinity should be home for a few more hours before she’s off to whatever plans she has for the day. Home is familiar. Home is safe. Home is separate from work.
He turns his key in the door and is welcomed by the faint aroma of coffee, and warm lights that contrast the cool fluorescents of the ED. Robby’s lounging on the couch in his pajamas.
“Morning, sweetheart.” Robby smiles, looking up from his book. Jack walks over to the couch and slumps down on top of Robby, nuzzling into his chest and groaning with exhaustion.
“That bad, huh?” Robby chuckles, running his fingers through Jack’s hair affectionately. Jack finally brings his face up to give Robby a hello kiss before laying his face back down onto Robby’s chest and letting out a long sigh.
“Abba? Do you know where my phone charger is?” Trinity’s voice echoes from the top of the stairs, followed by the thump of her coming down to search for it.
“Oh. Hi Dad!” She greets when she notices Jack on the couch. He lifts his body up on his elbows to turn toward her.
“I’m not sure where your charger is, hon. Did you check the–”
“What are you wearing, Trinity?” Jack cuts into the middle of Robby’s sentence, the words leaving his mouth before he even realizes he’s said them.
“A– a skirt.” She says, looking down at her black mini skirt with confusion fading into discomfort and embarrassment.
“Absolutely not. Go change.” He reprimands.
“Jack.” Robby says in an attempt to break the tension and deescalate. He recognizes the look on Jack’s face, he can tell something must have happened at work.
Trinity’s shaken by this. She’s heard him be stern before. She’s heard him snap. But he almost never looks angry before she’s even done anything wrong.
“Well– I just thought– I thought it looked nice. And Abba said he liked it.” She says timidly. Jack turns to Robby with a look of disbelief at this.
“You said it was okay?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s wrong with it?” Trinity asks, tone shifting to defiance. Jack opens his mouth to speak, failing to find words to put any of what he’s feeling into perspective for them.
So all he manages to get out is a frustrated, “Go upstairs and change.”
“No.”
“Excuse me?”
“Just tell me what’s wrong with it. You just keep saying to change but you won’t even tell me why. It feels like you think I look like a slut.” She snaps.
“Hey, hey– we’re not doing this, you two. Let’s just– let’s all take a minute to cool down, yeah?” Robby interjects.
“You just said it was okay fifteen minutes ago!” She snarls at Robby.
“Just go upstairs for a bit, honey. Give us a minute to talk.” He sighs, an apologetic look on his face.
Trinity’s eyes widen with disbelief at the perceived betrayal. “Fine. Fine. Whatever. I love you too, Dad. Thanks so much for your kind feedback.” She turns to the stairs before either of them can get another word in.
Jack and Robby watch as she climbs up the steps hastily, slamming her door once she reaches her room. Robby turns to Jack with a furrowed brow.
“What was that about?” He asks. When Jack doesn’t answer, Robby presses further. “What happened at work, babe?”
“There was a sexual assault victim. Some guy attacked her while she was walking home. She was seventeen.” Jack finally explains as he lays back down on Robby’s chest.
“Oh. I’m sorry, honey.” Robby says softly, his hand rubbing soothing circles on Jack’s back.
“She was wearing a skirt almost identical to Trinity’s.” He says quietly. “And I know– I know that doesn’t mean anything and that girls shouldn’t be shamed for what they’re wearing because there’s awful creeps out there. I just couldn’t stop seeing that girl.”
“Mhm.” Robby nods, his hand remaining on Jack. “Trinity didn’t know that.” He points out.
“Yeah. That– that was pretty bad. And now I’ve just fucked everything up. My daughter thinks I was slut shaming her.” He pushes up off the couch to stand up and starts toward the stairs. “I’m gonna go talk to her.” He says. Robby grabs his hand and gently tugs him back.
“Give her a few minutes. Take a shower, give yourself some time to think.” He urges.
“You’re right.” Jack nods.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Around twenty minutes later, Jack emerges from the shower clean and feeling more centered. He makes his way to the bathroom counter on his crutches, gazing into the foggy mirror.
He looks at his face and feels ashamed. He acted against every value he holds as a doctor, a father, a man.
He’s spent his whole career reminding patients that whatever happened to them wasn’t their fault, that their outfits had no correlation to someone else’s poor choices.
He’s spent all of Trinity’s life instilling in her that the world can be so unfair to women but she should never allow someone to make her feel guilty for wearing what she likes, or expressing her sexuality, or just existing.
And he’s spent his entire life trying to be the kind of man that champions those values in everything he does. He feels awful knowing he let his fear go against all of that, and that Trinity got caught in his emotional crossfire.
He decides to make lunch. Maybe Trinity’s hungry and they can talk while eating, so he puts his prosthetic back on and goes downstairs. When he walks into the kitchen and starts pulling things out of the pantry and cabinets, Robby squints with a bit of skepticism.
“You talked to her?” He asks from across the kitchen island.
“Not yet.” Jack says as he cracks open a can.
“Isn’t it a little early for lunch?” Robby jokes.
“She used to ask for grilled cheese and tomato soup for breakfast, remember?” Jack laughs softly. “Figure maybe the food’ll make this conversation just a little easier.”
“Apology soup?” Robby quips.
“Nuh-uh.”
“Yuh-huh. But hey, I’m not saying it’s a bad idea. She’ll come around.” He smiles as he exits back to the living room.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Jack approaches Trinity’s bedroom door with plate in hand. A warm, golden grilled cheese– cut diagonally– and a bowl of creamy tomato soup. He knocks on the door and receives no response.
“Baby? I made grilled cheese and tomato soup.”
So he cracks open the door to find her curled up in bed, facing away from the door.
“I’m not hungry.” She huffs.
“You don’t have to eat it now. Just– y’know. Whenever.” He says as he sets the plate down on her desk. He notices the skirt and top she had been wearing discarded on the floor and sighs.
“Trinity– can you look at me for a second, hon?” She rolls over in bed and looks at him, her comforter pulled up over her nose and mouth, only exposing her blue eyes, eyeliner and mascara slightly smudged around them. He can tell she's been crying.
“Your outfit looked beautiful. It really did. I need you to know that.” He assures.
“Then why’d you tell me to change?” She questions as she pushes the comforter down to reveal her full face. He kneels down in front of her bed to get on her level.
“Can I tell you something?” He asks.
“Mhm.” She nods.
“Last night, we had a girl who was pretty close to your age.” Trinity’s gaze softens as she listens to his story.
“Someone hurt her. Really badly. It had nothing to do with what she was wearing. It wasn’t her fault. And I carried that home with me.” He swallows.
“When I saw you come downstairs this morning, I kept seeing that girl. My brain was drawing connections it shouldn’t have been making.” He admits.
“I was scared by my own thoughts and projected that fear onto you.” He looks down at his hands for a beat. I’m really sorry, baby.” He tells her. Trinity’s eyes are growing wide and dewy.
“I know you know that the world isn’t always the way it should be, that it can be so unfair to women and girls. And that sometimes people will hurt or take advantage of women, which is never their fault. It’ll never be someone’s responsibility to prevent someone else from choosing to hurt them.” He explains, pausing between sentences because of the weight of his words.
“Knowing that about the world we live in as your dad is hard. Really, really hard. And scary. But it’s wrong to allow that fear to turn into me teaching you to be ashamed of your body, or your clothes.”
“I want to protect you, baby. I always will. But I don’t ever want you to feel like your body or the way you express yourself are what’s wrong with the world. Because they aren't.” He shakes his head.
“You really don’t think I looked like a slut?” She asks as she sits up in bed. He rises from the floor and moves to sit next to her on her bed.
“Oh, baby. No, not for one second.” He reaches for her hand and squeezes lightly. “I thought you looked so pretty. I’m sorry that I let myself react like that, and I’m really sorry that you have to live in a world where people use words like that to make women feel ashamed of themselves.”
She looks down for a beat, then stands and walks over to her desk, grabbing the plate and bringing it back over to the bed, sitting back down with the plate in her lap. She leans herself against Jack’s frame, and he moves his arm to be wrapped around her shoulder.
She picks up one of the halves of the grilled cheese, dipping it in the soup and taking a small bite. Then, she grabs the other half and holds it out to Jack. He accepts it and follows suit, submerging his half into the soup.
“You still going to see your friends today?” He asks quietly between bites, breaking the silence of the meal.
“Mhm.” She nods.
“You gonna wear that outfit?” He gestures to the skirt and tank top on the carpet.
“Can I?” Her eyes light up with excitement.
“Mhm.” He nods. “It’s really cute.” He says as he swallows his last bite.
“Thanks, Dad.” She says as she picks up the bowl to down the rest of the soup, leaving a red ring around her mouth.
“I love you, Trinity.” He smiles.
“I love you too, Dad.”