emilia

21 pittling luvr

[santosfangs]

hii guys i’m just trying to figure out when i should post my fics/peak tumblr time for people who read the pitt x reader fics so i can reach and please as many people as possible!! hopefully this makes sense xox

when do u usually want new pitt content/when do u visit ur tags looking for new fics to read

thursday night (right after the new episodes)

weekends

weekdays

literally whenever idc

Voting ended onMar 30

[santosfangs]

sunshine state

trinity santos x f!reader

“i can hear you, all you’ve been through. i know you’ll find me anyways.”

summary: you notice every small thing about the person you love, but sometimes you ignore the things that worry you out of fear of being right. until you can’t avoid them anymore.

wordcount: 1.4k

cw/tw: descriptions of self-harm, angst/comfort, relapse, insecurities, non-sexual nudity.

now playing: sunshine state by julia wolf

You don’t overthink it at first. It’s always like this. You push it down constantly, you block it out, because you can’t bear the idea of the fruit of your deepest worries flourishing in front of you in such a cruel way. It’s not that serious, I must've seen wrong.

That’s what you tell yourself when you notice the small droplet of blood on the shower mat. It’s not like your brain doesn’t immediately conjure the worst. You just push it down, you block it out.

But when it happens again, when you see the blood soaked gauze badly wrapped in toilet paper in the trash, the alarms go off again. Loud, imaginary but so deafening that it makes your body tremble.

You don’t bring it up, but you become more alert, constantly observing, following her shadow until your eyes burn. When Trinity refuses to take off her scrubs while you’re in the room, quietly spread on the bed with a book between your hands, you can’t even pretend this isn’t what you think it is anymore.

“Have you been cutting?” You don’t sugarcoat it, simply because the words come out before you can even process it.

Trinity stops breathing, it’s a small, straight change in her posture that gives it away. The next thing you notice is the turmoil in her emerald eyes. The pain, the fear, the desolation. It’s the scariest thing you’ve ever seen. 

“Trinity, can you please answer me?” She’s frozen and you plead, placing your book down carefully, like she’s a wounded animal and the sound of crinkling paper would scare her off. 

“Please answer me” You repeat, your voice stripped of everything it usually holds. It’s naked and raw. 

“It’s nothing.” She says, unyielding. She swallows harshly, pushing down the saliva until it scratches the back of her throat unpleasantly.

“Don’t do that” You shake your head, begging.

“...Just twice,” She says after a long pause. She folds her arm over her chest, crossing them protectively. Her eyes don’t meet yours anymore, they’re on the floor, on the bed, on the wall. And you recognize what you see in them. The shame. 

It’s silent for a while, just the sound of your shallow breathing. It’s so loud in your ears that you can barely hear hers. That’s enough to snap you out of it. 

“Can you take them off?” You ask, eyes scanning over her scrubs. Did she disinfect them properly? Did she apply wound care products? Are they so deep they require sutures? You stop there.

Her gaze finds yours when she hears you, there’s a pleading look in her eyes that mirrors your own. She gives up when she sees it. She removes her bottom scrubs, pushing them down, and stepping out of them when they drop to the floor. Your eyes immediately find the fresh scars, because they’re not hard to find. They’re red. Raw, swollen lines of healing skin. And your heart drops to the pit of your stomach once again. 

She’s close enough that you can reach over and run a finger over them with a feather light touch, aware of how painful they must be. She doesn’t flinch, and it somehow makes it worse. 

“Trin, baby” You mumble, feeling the ridges of the scars beneath your fingers. Each one feels like a stab. A stab in the heart, another one in the neck, in the leg, until you’re figuratively bleeding out from the wounds. 

She winces slightly and you immediately pull your hand away. 

“Did you disinfect them?” You ask, your eyes scanning over the carvings before she self-consciously covers them up.

“Of course I did, I’m a doctor” She quips, and you can hear the slight roll of her eyes in her tone. 

“That’s good” You reply quietly with a nod of your head.

“Are you mad?” She mumbles and the vulnerability in her voice  makes you look up at her, your head snapping up in an instant.

“No, no” You say hurriedly, shaking your head. How could you ever be mad at her? The question pains you deeply. You pat the space next to you on the bed. She complies quietly, sitting closely, her naked thighs brushing against your clothed ones. You look at each other for a moment, contemplating what to say next. She’d changed into one of your band tees earlier, unbothered about changing out of her scrub top in front of you. The soft material of the shirt caresses your arm.

Trinity lays down on the bed, placing her head on your lap, and your hand immediately finds her hair, untying her half up ponytail carefully before running your hand through it. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” You ask softly. You can feel her shake her head slightly.

“Not tonight” She mumbles, head nuzzled against your thighs. 

“That’s okay” You bend down to press a soft kiss against her forehead, brushing a stray hair out of the way as you do so. 

There’s still an unwavering fear in your chest as you look down at the woman you love. Her eyes are closed peacefully, her breathing is steady. But you are so unbelievably mad at yourself for ignoring the signs out of dread. That she’d been hurting her beautiful body while you were probably in the other room, ignorantly cooking, watching tv or even sleeping. 

You replay it now in fragments, the small things that didn’t seem like anything at the time. The way her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. The careful way she moved, like she was protecting something. The moments where your gaze lingered just a little too long on something that didn’t make sense and you looked away anyway. Because if you let yourself see it, really see it, then it would become real. But somewhere, deep down, you knew something wasn’t right. And you were afraid to touch it. Afraid that if you did, everything would unravel. So you let yourself believe the softer explanations. You let the silence stretch.

You hadn’t even noticed that your hand had stopped moving until Trinity looks up at you, silently asking why you stopped caressing her hair. And the worried look on her face confuses you, until you feel a hand wiping at the tears on your face. Tears you hadn’t even noticed had fallen. You quickly wipe them off, shaking your head in silent apology. 

“I’m okay,” you murmur, though your voice betrays you, catching somewhere between your chest and your throat.

Her hand doesn’t move away. It lingers against your cheek, warm and steady, like she’s grounding you back into the moment. Like she’s the one holding you together.

And that, more than anything, undoes you.

Your fingers resume their motion through her hair, slower now, more deliberate, as if you’re trying to memorize the feeling. The softness of it. The reality of her, here, awake, looking at you like you’re the one she’s worried about.

“I should’ve…” You stop yourself, the words collapsing under their own weight. There’s too much behind them. Too much you don’t know how to say without it turning into something heavier, something she shouldn’t have to carry right now.

Her thumb brushes just beneath your eye, catching what you missed. “Hey,” she says softly, her voice still a little rough, but steady.

You shake your head again, smaller this time. Not dismissing, just… trying to hold everything in place.

“I saw it,” you admit, barely above a whisper. “Not all of it. But enough.”

The air shifts, quiet but undeniable.

“I just…” Your gaze drops, your hand stilling again for half a second before you force it to move. “I didn’t want to be right.”

It sounds weak when it leaves your mouth. Smaller than it felt.

But it’s the truth.

Your fingers curl slightly in her hair, careful, always careful. “I thought if I asked, it would make it real. And I didn’t know how to…” You trail off, the rest catching somewhere deep in your chest.

For a moment, there’s only the quiet between you.

Then her hand shifts, and she grabs your hand firmly. Steady. Present.

And somehow, despite everything, she’s still here.

happy pitt thursday hiii ! well it’s technically friday now because i’ve spent the better half of the night writing this but who cares. i really hope you like thissss !! also can i just say that the whitantos scene made me jump up and down i loved it. idc if it was fanservice i am a fan and i have been serviced. also don’t hesitate to send requests i need them i want them. ok byeeee

[santosfangs]

my blade is on the bird

trinity santos x fem!reader

summary: ever since you’ve been assigned to the night shift, you and trinity have been living on completely opposite schedules, living completely different lives. and it has started to take a toll on her.

wordcount: 2.5k

cw: angst, inaccurate medical descriptions and terms

now playing: blade bird by oklou

Trinity isn’t sure she’s ever felt so tired. Her elbows rest on either side of the keyboard at the nurses’ station, where she’s been catching up on charting for the past thirty minutes. Strangely enough, she’s been left alone by the rest of the medical staff in the ER during that entire time.

That almost never happens. Normally she manages to write two sentences before someone rudely calls her name. It feels good to be needed, but recently, for Santos, there has been no worse feeling.

Except for longing.

The relentless, gnawing feeling that something, someone, is missing. In the ER, in her arms, in her immediate vicinity. Trinity has never been much of a yearner. Or, she is, but she likes to pretend that she’s not.

She prides herself on being independent, unbothered, capable of handling things on her own. But lately she finds herself staring off into space, unfocused, and nobody pulls her back to reality.

It’s a painful reminder that you’re not around to ground her.

Not that you’re far away. Technically you’re just working a different shift. Your clothes are still in her closet, hell, you’re still in her bed, but Trinity hasn’t seen much of you since you were transferred to nights.

There had been a vacant spot ever since Dr. Jones left for North Carolina, and the night crew was already understaffed. The department had found itself struggling after losing yet another physician.

Dr. Abbot had asked you personally before speaking to admin, which you did appreciate. At least it hadn’t been sudden and unexpected. You had voluntarily agreed to the change. Still, he had managed to convince you after laying the praise on thick.

“I—well, we—really would like for you to be the one to join the team. Ellis and I think you’d be an excellent addition. It’s a change of pace, but I think it’s worth it.”

He had told you that during a shift change back in August. You had told him you’d think about it. By thinking, you really meant talking to your girlfriend about it. Trinity’s refusal had come quickly, much like you had anticipated.

“You really want to switch to nights.” She had that look on her face, the one that meant she strongly disagreed but refused to start an argument about it.

“I don’t want to, Trin. They need someone. Bad.” You had rested your head in your palm, sitting at the small kitchen counter in your apartment.

“And? Why does it have to be you?” she asked, crossing her arms and leaning against the sink.

“Abbot asked me,” you shrugged, exhausted.

“Oh, Abbot asked you,” she replied, raising her brows sarcastically. You sighed quietly.

“So you don’t want me to switch to nights?”

There had been a pause before she answered.

“…Do whatever you want.” She had pushed herself off the sink, avoiding your pointed look.

“Trin.”

“What.”

“Don’t shut me out.”

That made her look at you. Really look at you. And suddenly you understood why she had taken it so personally.

Because to her, it was personal.

You were abandoning her. At least, that’s how she perceived it.

“I would like to try it. Only if you want me to,” you had said gently. “I’ll switch back if we can’t do it.”

Her eyes softened. After a moment, she nodded silently, agreeing to the condition. The tension in the room eased just enough for both of you to breathe again.

“i love you” you had said gently, breaking the silence with a quiet promise

“i love you” she’d replied, never adding the too, because she didn’t love you too, her love was whole, enough in itself.

That had been two months ago.

Two months since you had shared a car ride to work. Two months since the private lunch breaks on the empty floor upstairs. Two months since she had slept beside you for more than a night at a time.

And it was safe to say that nowadays, hell would probably be more enjoyable than work for Trinity.

Seeing you for only a few minutes during shift change had become a special kind of torture. Santos spent most of her days waiting for patient handoff, hoping she might steal a kiss or two in the breakroom if she was lucky.

Those moments were rushed between charts and alarms, but she had to convince herself that they were enough.

Today, though… today was different.

Your shifts overlapped for the first time in two months.

You were scheduled to come in a few hours earlier than usual to help with the increased number of traumas expected on Halloween. Trinity, exhausted as she is, is internally buzzing with excitement. She hates how much she’s looking forward to it.

She checks the clock for the seventh time that hour and sighs when she realizes only fifteen minutes have passed since the last time, which makes Dana look over.

“Watcha sighing about, missy?” the charge nurse asks.

Trinity straightens slightly.

“Just… tired.”

Dana smirks and nods towards the ambulance bay.

“If you’re bored, EMS just called in a GSW to the abdomen. Five minutes out.”

Trinity nods distractedly.

“Yeah, I’ll get on that.”

Her fingers hover over the keyboard. Four hours to go.

It’s 3:54 when you scan your badge at the door, clocking in for your incoming 12-hour shift. A sigh leaves your lips at the sight of the reception area and waiting room.

Packed, you think to yourself, eyes sweeping over the crowd before greeting Lupe with a nod and pushing open the doors to the ER.

The chaos isn’t unfamiliar to you as you take in the state of the department. The worst is probably yet to come, though.

With a quick glance at the board, you take notice of the urgent cases; chest pain in South 15, a possible stroke in Central 12. You tilt your head slightly, eyes scanning over the names.

“Finally coming back to day shift?”

You hear Dana’s voice before you see her, lowering your eyes from the board to look at her. She gives you an affectionate smile, extending her arm to give you a quick side hug.

“Hi, Dana.” You laugh softly, reciprocating the embrace.

“I miss working with you, kid.” She gives your shoulder a slight squeeze. “Although I think someone misses you more than me.”

The nurse glances over your shoulder, smiling. You follow her eyes, which are locked on Trinity, pulling on a pair of gloves as the trauma doors swing open. You smile at the sight of her.

She hasn’t noticed you yet, being entirely too focused on doing her job. She walks up to the nurse’s station without ever noticing you.

“Look who’s back.”

A low voice interrupts from the other side of the room. You follow the sound, finding Dr. Robby as the owner. He’s walking toward the nurse’s station with a tablet tucked under his arm, watching you with mild amusement.

“Thought the night shift kidnapped you for good.”

You smile politely, shrugging one shoulder. “Just visiting.”

Across the station, Trinity looks up. You take in her appearance. Her dark hair is still pulled half up, but a few baby hairs have escaped around her temples. She doesn’t look messy, just worn around the edges.

Even then, she’s still the most gorgeous girl you’ve ever seen.

Her eyes land on you and stop.

For a moment, the noise of the ER fades. Something shifts in her expression; almost like relief. Jacket still slung over your arm, you look put together, and Trinity notices. Her gaze flicks over you quickly, like she’s trying not to stare too long.

There’s a pull in your chest when you look at her. You missed seeing her like this, moving through the department, completely in her element.

You’re about to say something when the sound cuts through the department. A stretcher rattling and voices raised just enough to mean something urgent is happening. The interruption comes quicker than you expect as the paramedics push through at full speed.

“Trauma coming through!” Your head turns automatically.

“Female, mid-twenties,” the medic continues quickly. “Hit by a sedan. GCS thirteen on scene, possible head injury, brief loss of consciousness.”

The moment disappears instantly. Robby is already turning toward the trauma bay.

“Dr. Santos, Mel, Princess, you’re with me.”

The whole team runs toward the trauma rooms in a rush of footsteps and rattling stretcher wheels. You step out of the way automatically.

You’re not needed in that room right now, not with an attending and two residents already there. So you take the moment you have and head down the hall toward the locker room to drop your jacket before the shift really starts.

You pull open your locker and hang your jacket inside when the door behind you swings open again.

“Look who finally left the dark side.”

You glance over your shoulder. Dr. Whitaker smiles at you, greeting you with a nod of his head.

“Hey Dennis.” you smile back

“I don’t see you much around anymore. Night shift treating you well?” He enters the code on the small padlock of his own locker.

“It’s a lifestyle.” You say it with a small sigh, taking your stethoscope from your locker and placing it carefully in your scrub pocket.

“Oof.” He offers you an empathetic smile, pressing his lips together in a line.

You laugh softly, closing your locker. “You just getting off?”

“Not yet. Just grabbing a snack.” He shows off his granola bar, then pauses, studying you for a moment.

“Did you see Santos?”

“Briefly.” You close your locker with your shoulder and turn to face him. Dennis makes a small thoughtful sound. Your eyebrow lifts.

“What?”

He hesitates like he’s debating whether to say something, then sighs. “She’s been… a little on edge lately.”

You lean back against the locker. “On edge how?”

“I’m serious,” he continues. “Past two months especially.”

Your stomach tightens slightly. “Since the night shift switch?” you ask softly.

Dennis nods. “She hates it.”

You look down for a moment. “I mean… the schedule sucks.”

“Not just the schedule. She barely sees you anymore.” His voice is gentle, but the words still land strangely in your chest. It doesn’t sound like he’s blaming you, yet something in his tone makes it feel like maybe he isn’t not blaming you either.

You frown slightly. It had been clear since the beginning of your night shifts that this wasn’t going to be easy on either of you. Still, hearing it from someone else makes it feel different, like something private between the two of you has been quietly spilling into the rest of the department.

Dennis shrugs.

“Anyway, she’ll survive. She can just be quite dramatic.”

You smile faintly, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “That sounds accurate.”

He opens the door. “Oh, and good luck tonight.”

“Why?”

Dennis gestures vaguely toward the hallway. “She’s been in a mood all day.”

Then he disappears down the corridor. You linger for a second before heading back toward the department. The words sit strangely with you as you walk. Why wouldn’t she tell you this herself?

Usually Trinity confides in you about everything; little frustrations, long shifts, annoying consults, personal problems. The idea that Dennis heard about this before you feels wrong somehow, like you’re suddenly standing outside something you’re supposed to be part of.

As you round the corner near the medication room, voices drift down the hallway.

“Doctor Santos.” Robby’s voice echoes quietly.

You slow without meaning to.

“You’re moving too fast in there,” he says bluntly.

“I’m fine,” Trinity replies.

“You’re not fine. You’re rushing.”

There’s a pause.

“You missed a question from respiratory and Perlah had to repeat herself twice.”

“I heard her.”

“Then act like it.”

Another pause.

“Get your head back in the game, Doctor.”

The words land sharp. You hear Trinity exhale.

“I’m trying.”

“Well try harder,” Robby says. “Because this isn’t the kind of shift where you get to be distracted.”

Silence hangs there for a moment.

Then he adds, slightly quieter but still firm.

“Whatever’s going on, deal with it later.”

Your stomach tightens slightly.

You hear Trinity say something under her breath.

“What?” Robby asks.

“Nothing.”

“Santos.”

Another pause.

“It’s just the schedule thing,” she admits quietly.

Robby exhales.

“You two still doing opposite shifts?”

“Yes.”

“Well,” he says,

“That sucks, but it’s no one’s problem but yours. Don’t let this affect patient care.” His shoes squeak on the tiles as he walks away.

You move again quickly before anyone can notice you standing there listening. Your chest feels strangely tight. You knew the schedule was hard on both of you, but having her admit it to someone else twice before even acknowledging the issue with you leaves a quiet ache behind your ribs.

By the time Trinity returns to the nurses’ station a few minutes later, you’re already sitting at a desk, jutting down some patient care information on a chart.

She stops beside you.

“You good?” Her voice is casual, but her eyes search your face like she’s trying to read something there.

“Yeah.”

“You just got here and you’re already charting?”

You shrug. “Occupational hazard.”

She studies you for a moment. “You’re quiet today.”

“Just busy.”

Before she can respond, someone calls her name again. “Dr. Santos!”

She exhales sharply. “Of course,” she mutters under her breath.

Then she glances at you again. “Come with me.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Where?”

“The stairwell.”

You follow her down the hall and through the heavy door. The noise of the ER disappears immediately. Trinity leans back against the wall and runs a hand over the back of her head. The motion loosens her hair slightly, and a few more baby hairs fall loose around her temples.

She exhales slowly. For the first time all evening, she looks less like a resident and more like the girl you go home to.

“You look nice,” she says.

The comment sounds almost annoyed.

You fold your arms.

“Thanks.”

She watches you for a moment.

“You’re acting weird.”

“Am I?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe I just overheard something interesting.”

Her brow furrows. “Like what?”

You hold her gaze. “Like you telling Robby the schedule thing is bothering you.”

The silence that follows is immediate. Trinity freezes.

“You-”

“Accidentally,” you say.

Her shoulders drop slightly. She rubs the back of her neck, clearly frustrated. “Great.”

“You didn’t want me to know?” You ask, raising your eyebrows.

“It’s not that.”

“Then what?”

She exhales again. “I just didn’t want it to sound like I was asking you to change things,” she says quietly.

Your voice softens. “You should've told me baby.”

Her eyes lift to yours. “And what if you said no?”

You shrug slightly. “Trin, I told you I’d switch back if we couldn’t deal.”

Trinity studies you for a long moment. The tension in her expression finally cracks.

“I hate this schedule,” she admits.

Your heart stutters a little.

“I hate coming home when you’re leaving,” she continues quietly. “I hate that we barely see each other unless one of us is half asleep.” Her eyes drop to her sneakers, like she can’t quite bear to admit defeat while looking at you. Then she looks back up.

Her voice is softer now.

“Can you just come back to me?”

first fic what’s uppppp!!!

[santosfangs]

500 likes ??? that’s crazy as hell

[santosfangs]

WAIT THAT WAS YOUR FIRST FIC!!??? that's unbelievable, it was so good!! I just read it and came to your page looking for more, only to see it was your first one!! It was amazing, would you ever write for Mohan?? (no pressure of course, I'm just wondering!!)

thank u so much ur so sweet :,)))

i have a lot more pittsters i want to write about in the future, including mohan!

so do not fret it will be coming eventually!! i’m just very busy with university atm and i like to take my time with my writing so the process is a bit slowed down!! in the meantime don’t hesitate to send reqs for what you’d like to see! it helps a lot with the creative process :)

xox mimi

[santosfangs]

First of all I loved your first fic! Your writing is absolutely beautiful

Can you please do one where the reader is jealous of seeing Trinity with Garcia?

i’ll see what i can do 🙈

[santosfangs]

most gorgeous gorgeous girl in the world

[santosfangs]

that being your first fic is CRAZY girl

you have such a talent never stop i’m so serious

are u serious this is so nice THANK YOU <333

i loveeeee and ive always loved writing ever since i can remember! i’ve dabbled in fanfic writing back in like 2019 actually but these days i mostly just write songs with my musician friends :)

i’m so glad u enjoyed my blade is on the bird and there will be more trust…

love ya xox mimi

[santosfangs]

my blade is on the bird

trinity santos x fem!reader

summary: ever since you’ve been assigned to the night shift, you and trinity have been living on completely opposite schedules, living completely different lives. and it has started to take a toll on her.

wordcount: 2.5k

cw: angst, inaccurate medical descriptions and terms

now playing: blade bird by oklou

Trinity isn’t sure she’s ever felt so tired. Her elbows rest on either side of the keyboard at the nurses’ station, where she’s been catching up on charting for the past thirty minutes. Strangely enough, she’s been left alone by the rest of the medical staff in the ER during that entire time.

That almost never happens. Normally she manages to write two sentences before someone rudely calls her name. It feels good to be needed, but recently, for Santos, there has been no worse feeling.

Except for longing.

The relentless, gnawing feeling that something, someone, is missing. In the ER, in her arms, in her immediate vicinity. Trinity has never been much of a yearner. Or, she is, but she likes to pretend that she’s not.

She prides herself on being independent, unbothered, capable of handling things on her own. But lately she finds herself staring off into space, unfocused, and nobody pulls her back to reality.

It’s a painful reminder that you’re not around to ground her.

Not that you’re far away. Technically you’re just working a different shift. Your clothes are still in her closet, hell, you’re still in her bed, but Trinity hasn’t seen much of you since you were transferred to nights.

There had been a vacant spot ever since Dr. Jones left for North Carolina, and the night crew was already understaffed. The department had found itself struggling after losing yet another physician.

Dr. Abbot had asked you personally before speaking to admin, which you did appreciate. At least it hadn’t been sudden and unexpected. You had voluntarily agreed to the change. Still, he had managed to convince you after laying the praise on thick.

“I—well, we—really would like for you to be the one to join the team. Ellis and I think you’d be an excellent addition. It’s a change of pace, but I think it’s worth it.”

He had told you that during a shift change back in August. You had told him you’d think about it. By thinking, you really meant talking to your girlfriend about it. Trinity’s refusal had come quickly, much like you had anticipated.

“You really want to switch to nights.” She had that look on her face, the one that meant she strongly disagreed but refused to start an argument about it.

“I don’t want to, Trin. They need someone. Bad.” You had rested your head in your palm, sitting at the small kitchen counter in your apartment.

“And? Why does it have to be you?” she asked, crossing her arms and leaning against the sink.

“Abbot asked me,” you shrugged, exhausted.

“Oh, Abbot asked you,” she replied, raising her brows sarcastically. You sighed quietly.

“So you don’t want me to switch to nights?”

There had been a pause before she answered.

“…Do whatever you want.” She had pushed herself off the sink, avoiding your pointed look.

“Trin.”

“What.”

“Don’t shut me out.”

That made her look at you. Really look at you. And suddenly you understood why she had taken it so personally.

Because to her, it was personal.

You were abandoning her. At least, that’s how she perceived it.

“I would like to try it. Only if you want me to,” you had said gently. “I’ll switch back if we can’t do it.”

Her eyes softened. After a moment, she nodded silently, agreeing to the condition. The tension in the room eased just enough for both of you to breathe again.

“i love you” you had said gently, breaking the silence with a quiet promise

“i love you” she’d replied, never adding the too, because she didn’t love you too, her love was whole, enough in itself.

That had been two months ago.

Two months since you had shared a car ride to work. Two months since the private lunch breaks on the empty floor upstairs. Two months since she had slept beside you for more than a night at a time.

And it was safe to say that nowadays, hell would probably be more enjoyable than work for Trinity.

Seeing you for only a few minutes during shift change had become a special kind of torture. Santos spent most of her days waiting for patient handoff, hoping she might steal a kiss or two in the breakroom if she was lucky.

Those moments were rushed between charts and alarms, but she had to convince herself that they were enough.

Today, though… today was different.

Your shifts overlapped for the first time in two months.

You were scheduled to come in a few hours earlier than usual to help with the increased number of traumas expected on Halloween. Trinity, exhausted as she is, is internally buzzing with excitement. She hates how much she’s looking forward to it.

She checks the clock for the seventh time that hour and sighs when she realizes only fifteen minutes have passed since the last time, which makes Dana look over.

“Watcha sighing about, missy?” the charge nurse asks.

Trinity straightens slightly.

“Just… tired.”

Dana smirks and nods towards the ambulance bay.

“If you’re bored, EMS just called in a GSW to the abdomen. Five minutes out.”

Trinity nods distractedly.

“Yeah, I’ll get on that.”

Her fingers hover over the keyboard. Four hours to go.

It’s 3:54 when you scan your badge at the door, clocking in for your incoming 12-hour shift. A sigh leaves your lips at the sight of the reception area and waiting room.

Packed, you think to yourself, eyes sweeping over the crowd before greeting Lupe with a nod and pushing open the doors to the ER.

The chaos isn’t unfamiliar to you as you take in the state of the department. The worst is probably yet to come, though.

With a quick glance at the board, you take notice of the urgent cases; chest pain in South 15, a possible stroke in Central 12. You tilt your head slightly, eyes scanning over the names.

“Finally coming back to day shift?”

You hear Dana’s voice before you see her, lowering your eyes from the board to look at her. She gives you an affectionate smile, extending her arm to give you a quick side hug.

“Hi, Dana.” You laugh softly, reciprocating the embrace.

“I miss working with you, kid.” She gives your shoulder a slight squeeze. “Although I think someone misses you more than me.”

The nurse glances over your shoulder, smiling. You follow her eyes, which are locked on Trinity, pulling on a pair of gloves as the trauma doors swing open. You smile at the sight of her.

She hasn’t noticed you yet, being entirely too focused on doing her job. She walks up to the nurse’s station without ever noticing you.

“Look who’s back.”

A low voice interrupts from the other side of the room. You follow the sound, finding Dr. Robby as the owner. He’s walking toward the nurse’s station with a tablet tucked under his arm, watching you with mild amusement.

“Thought the night shift kidnapped you for good.”

You smile politely, shrugging one shoulder. “Just visiting.”

Across the station, Trinity looks up. You take in her appearance. Her dark hair is still pulled half up, but a few baby hairs have escaped around her temples. She doesn’t look messy, just worn around the edges.

Even then, she’s still the most gorgeous girl you’ve ever seen.

Her eyes land on you and stop.

For a moment, the noise of the ER fades. Something shifts in her expression; almost like relief. Jacket still slung over your arm, you look put together, and Trinity notices. Her gaze flicks over you quickly, like she’s trying not to stare too long.

There’s a pull in your chest when you look at her. You missed seeing her like this, moving through the department, completely in her element.

You’re about to say something when the sound cuts through the department. A stretcher rattling and voices raised just enough to mean something urgent is happening. The interruption comes quicker than you expect as the paramedics push through at full speed.

“Trauma coming through!” Your head turns automatically.

“Female, mid-twenties,” the medic continues quickly. “Hit by a sedan. GCS thirteen on scene, possible head injury, brief loss of consciousness.”

The moment disappears instantly. Robby is already turning toward the trauma bay.

“Dr. Santos, Mel, Princess, you’re with me.”

The whole team runs toward the trauma rooms in a rush of footsteps and rattling stretcher wheels. You step out of the way automatically.

You’re not needed in that room right now, not with an attending and two residents already there. So you take the moment you have and head down the hall toward the locker room to drop your jacket before the shift really starts.

You pull open your locker and hang your jacket inside when the door behind you swings open again.

“Look who finally left the dark side.”

You glance over your shoulder. Dr. Whitaker smiles at you, greeting you with a nod of his head.

“Hey Dennis.” you smile back

“I don’t see you much around anymore. Night shift treating you well?” He enters the code on the small padlock of his own locker.

“It’s a lifestyle.” You say it with a small sigh, taking your stethoscope from your locker and placing it carefully in your scrub pocket.

“Oof.” He offers you an empathetic smile, pressing his lips together in a line.

You laugh softly, closing your locker. “You just getting off?”

“Not yet. Just grabbing a snack.” He shows off his granola bar, then pauses, studying you for a moment.

“Did you see Santos?”

“Briefly.” You close your locker with your shoulder and turn to face him. Dennis makes a small thoughtful sound. Your eyebrow lifts.

“What?”

He hesitates like he’s debating whether to say something, then sighs. “She’s been… a little on edge lately.”

You lean back against the locker. “On edge how?”

“I’m serious,” he continues. “Past two months especially.”

Your stomach tightens slightly. “Since the night shift switch?” you ask softly.

Dennis nods. “She hates it.”

You look down for a moment. “I mean… the schedule sucks.”

“Not just the schedule. She barely sees you anymore.” His voice is gentle, but the words still land strangely in your chest. It doesn’t sound like he’s blaming you, yet something in his tone makes it feel like maybe he isn’t not blaming you either.

You frown slightly. It had been clear since the beginning of your night shifts that this wasn’t going to be easy on either of you. Still, hearing it from someone else makes it feel different, like something private between the two of you has been quietly spilling into the rest of the department.

Dennis shrugs.

“Anyway, she’ll survive. She can just be quite dramatic.”

You smile faintly, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “That sounds accurate.”

He opens the door. “Oh, and good luck tonight.”

“Why?”

Dennis gestures vaguely toward the hallway. “She’s been in a mood all day.”

Then he disappears down the corridor. You linger for a second before heading back toward the department. The words sit strangely with you as you walk. Why wouldn’t she tell you this herself?

Usually Trinity confides in you about everything; little frustrations, long shifts, annoying consults, personal problems. The idea that Dennis heard about this before you feels wrong somehow, like you’re suddenly standing outside something you’re supposed to be part of.

As you round the corner near the medication room, voices drift down the hallway.

“Doctor Santos.” Robby’s voice echoes quietly.

You slow without meaning to.

“You’re moving too fast in there,” he says bluntly.

“I’m fine,” Trinity replies.

“You’re not fine. You’re rushing.”

There’s a pause.

“You missed a question from respiratory and Perlah had to repeat herself twice.”

“I heard her.”

“Then act like it.”

Another pause.

“Get your head back in the game, Doctor.”

The words land sharp. You hear Trinity exhale.

“I’m trying.”

“Well try harder,” Robby says. “Because this isn’t the kind of shift where you get to be distracted.”

Silence hangs there for a moment.

Then he adds, slightly quieter but still firm.

“Whatever’s going on, deal with it later.”

Your stomach tightens slightly.

You hear Trinity say something under her breath.

“What?” Robby asks.

“Nothing.”

“Santos.”

Another pause.

“It’s just the schedule thing,” she admits quietly.

Robby exhales.

“You two still doing opposite shifts?”

“Yes.”

“Well,” he says,

“That sucks, but it’s no one’s problem but yours. Don’t let this affect patient care.” His shoes squeak on the tiles as he walks away.

You move again quickly before anyone can notice you standing there listening. Your chest feels strangely tight. You knew the schedule was hard on both of you, but having her admit it to someone else twice before even acknowledging the issue with you leaves a quiet ache behind your ribs.

By the time Trinity returns to the nurses’ station a few minutes later, you’re already sitting at a desk, jutting down some patient care information on a chart.

She stops beside you.

“You good?” Her voice is casual, but her eyes search your face like she’s trying to read something there.

“Yeah.”

“You just got here and you’re already charting?”

You shrug. “Occupational hazard.”

She studies you for a moment. “You’re quiet today.”

“Just busy.”

Before she can respond, someone calls her name again. “Dr. Santos!”

She exhales sharply. “Of course,” she mutters under her breath.

Then she glances at you again. “Come with me.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Where?”

“The stairwell.”

You follow her down the hall and through the heavy door. The noise of the ER disappears immediately. Trinity leans back against the wall and runs a hand over the back of her head. The motion loosens her hair slightly, and a few more baby hairs fall loose around her temples.

She exhales slowly. For the first time all evening, she looks less like a resident and more like the girl you go home to.

“You look nice,” she says.

The comment sounds almost annoyed.

You fold your arms.

“Thanks.”

She watches you for a moment.

“You’re acting weird.”

“Am I?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe I just overheard something interesting.”

Her brow furrows. “Like what?”

You hold her gaze. “Like you telling Robby the schedule thing is bothering you.”

The silence that follows is immediate. Trinity freezes.

“You-”

“Accidentally,” you say.

Her shoulders drop slightly. She rubs the back of her neck, clearly frustrated. “Great.”

“You didn’t want me to know?” You ask, raising your eyebrows.

“It’s not that.”

“Then what?”

She exhales again. “I just didn’t want it to sound like I was asking you to change things,” she says quietly.

Your voice softens. “You should've told me baby.”

Her eyes lift to yours. “And what if you said no?”

You shrug slightly. “Trin, I told you I’d switch back if we couldn’t deal.”

Trinity studies you for a long moment. The tension in her expression finally cracks.

“I hate this schedule,” she admits.

Your heart stutters a little.

“I hate coming home when you’re leaving,” she continues quietly. “I hate that we barely see each other unless one of us is half asleep.” Her eyes drop to her sneakers, like she can’t quite bear to admit defeat while looking at you. Then she looks back up.

Her voice is softer now.

“Can you just come back to me?”

first fic what’s uppppp!!!