Work Text:
This place will break your heart. But it is also full of miracles, and that is a testament to all of you coming together and doing what we do best."
"I am not a snitch. He is being a recklessly dangerous arse”
Dr Trinity Santos isn't sure why she feels compelled to send that simple sentence to Garcia, likely misusing the privilege of having that number. She has had worse interactions with people, hurling far more hurtful things. Trinity faces a gauntlet of worse judgment on her first day, mainly from Langdon. Still, she isn't known for leaving a good impression wherever she goes, a source of eternal shame to her wealthy, socially competent relatives.
For all her character flaws that people love to list, she wasn't a snitch.
Those words hold when the bullying gets so much worse than schoolyard taunts or when things escalate about her mixed-race existence. It even holds when the coach (and respected family friend) starts to cross lines, systematically eroding Trinity's little remaining trust in humanity and her best friend's will to live.
"Hey, is this, okay?"
It takes a few minutes for Trinity to blink back into the presence as she shoves her phone into her pocket, struggling to see what imaginary crime Huckleberry thinks he has committed simply by existing. As far as Trinity can see, her place is clearer than ever. Dinner awaits her, and Dennis Whitiker reads quietly in the corner after fixing the lamp in their communal area.
"I know my people skills sore rank somewhere nill, but you are allowed to breathe in the presence and crack open a book while waiting for dinner to finish, for fuck sake. After two months, haven't we at least established that I'm only a prickle arsehole to a lost list of people, groups and circumstances that deserve it? I am held together by spite and rage, but you and the other loser make the list." Trinity throws up her hands in exasperation.
The intern feels an unexpected stab of hurt that they aren't past the first-day impression.
"Thanks for the reassurance, but I meant that some people find this objectionable, especially those in medical school." Dennis holds up his book, revealing a well-thumbed Bible with wear, indicating many reads.
"Hey, people have the right to find different ways to cope; you know that half the people in The Pitt vape, smoke, or find other ways to put their body through hell. Dr Robby thinks he can hold the place with his bare hands. I can cope if you don't put up crosses everywhere." Trinity flops on the couch beside him.
"Dr Robby essentially does, at least that's the rumour. My faith is sorely tested at times, especially after adjusting to this place from small-town Nebraska, but it is still comforting to recite the words." Whittier closes the text and smiles at her shyly.
"Is it true that you were going to go into the Church like the fourth son from a historical novel in England?" Trinity tilts her head curiously.
Trinity Santos was not somebody to ask about other people unless such actions were an obligation of her therapy (thankfully not mandated anymore) or as part of psych rotation. For years, she and her best friend were against the world, specifically their common enemy, the coach. Still, the people serving in the Pitt on that horrendous first day gave Trinity involuntary friends, with a medical student and a few residents technically above her in the medical hierarchy.
"It wasn't a family obligation or anything, and it wasn't like there was a grand Whittaker fortune to go round. I have always had an interest in faith and religious studies. There is nothing more profound than that; sorry to disappoint. Please don't start calling me Saint Huckleberry."
"Whatever it takes to bestow a nickname and don't have the energy to give you two, don't get greedy, Whitiker. Only Javadi handed me a nickname that was so perfect.
"Is it true that you have specialities trying to get your attention? Rather than you trying to haunt the senior Javadi or Walsh for interesting cases and attention to get your fix?' Dennis turns before offering the snacks he prepares before dinner.
"I keep telling you, it's vital to keep your options open, and you will have few opportunities like the intern year, but hustling on the floor and paying attention to each of the attending’s passion projects, to get a foot in the door and stay there. Only when you are the guppy of the medical world can you find the shadow of a bigger fish and watch." Trinity easily sums up her life philosophy.
"That is only a specific metaphor for somebody who doesn't know the first thing about fishing in the creek, but if I spin and tilt my head like it's a blurry X-film, then I can see the point." Dennis teases lightly.
"Well, clearly, your terrible influence is rubbing off on me, only with a surprising appreciation for folksy music, much to my horror. Let's eat before we both get sentimental and start falling for our Catholic roots." Trinity leads her roommate into the kitchen.
"Are you okay, though? Gracia touched you pretty hard with that last patient and their fluctuating readings." Dennis's voice is genuine as he serves up the lasagna.
"I am an intern for whom she simultaneously has high expectations and can vividly remember being impaled with the wrong end of a surgical tool. There isn't any great mystery about why her teaching style differs from mine. I still have nightmares about that expensive pedicure. Not everyone can have the saintly teaching approach that Dr Robby takes. " Trinity explains with a note of defensiveness in her voice.
"Okay, I was only checking, not expecting a breakdown of every move and misstep." The other doctor focuses on shoving food as if it could be his last meal.
There is more to that dynamic than Trinity lets on, and they both know with a surety that each takes comfort in ignoring. Yolanda Gracia is not subtle in her strange fixation and attention, to the point where patients and other doctors notice and comment. Trinity knows what people think about their after-work activities.
" Just as long as you don't get in the crosshairs of some other senior." Dennis Mummers seemed willing to drop the topic.
Several of the more active gossips in the hospital will be disappointed if they ever learn that Graca pretends the younger doctor doesn't exist unless they are on a case together or she thinks no one is watching her, gazing at Trinity. You would need to be an exceeding naive queer woman or permanently camped at the furthest side of the Kinsey Scale not to notice the subtext.
Her phone pings while she is tidying up. Not many people have this number, which changed after everything went down at home. Fewer people would bother to use it beyond set, obligatory times.
"I know that; please have coffee with me next weekend. Give me a chance to explain.
Trinity Santo chooses not to answer and focuses on dinner with her roommate after Garcia is the queen of stonewalling. As Whitaker points out, Trinity works hard to give herself options and make a good impression on the floor outside their strange, flirtatious dynamic.
***
Trinity Santos survives her first weeks in the Pitt.
Her typical survival strategies don't survive contact with the battlefield, though.
There are many ways to survive the unique horror of being a medical student, intern, or anywhere else in the medical hierarchy, most of them along an obsession continuum. Some people refuse to make friends, only competitors; others see genuine strength in numbers. Either way, some specific bonds form. Trinity Santos 0has cutting nicknames and wry banter.
She has friends who deliver things to her locker somewhere on the way.
Mel waits for her even though Trinity insists that she doesn't need a friend to stay after taking the extra time to sit with the patient, who does her best to mask the signs of depression and suicidal ideation. Trinity wishes she didn't have the talent for sensing these cases or, more specifically, the life experience to make such things so familiar, but she will not miss the warnings again.
The people who become experts at dodging questions and doing enough to get a speedy discharge, which is more often than not, words.
"You better not be missing your 19th thousandth rerun of Elf because the junior pit crew group chat had a spindly sense about my shift. Somehow, I managed to get through hundreds of shifts without a cheer squad." Trinity shoots Mel a warning look before typing the combination into her locker.
"The King Sisters movie night is on Friday, and Becca's on a field trip with her favourite caregiver, so our check-in call was an hour early; I was taking the opportunity to check in with a few of my friends at the VA hospital." Mel shrugs with that blindingly open and sincere smile.
"Hey, did you slide shit into my locker?" Trinity holds up an envelope, giving the other doctor an accusing look
"No way, I know better than to mess with your stuff after your 7th lecture on the topic. What is it? " Mel holds up her hands in a defensive position
Trinity is too busy gazing at the card to answer directly. On a simple piece of paper is an invitation to an upcoming lecture by one of the most pioneering surgeons of the age, who happened to invent one of the procedures that Garcia guides her through when they were in their long-forgotten era of talking to each other. 'Go to this; she is a good contact. The words are in Garcia's typical scrawl, which Trinity should have memorised.
"It’s just a random invite, nothing major." Trinity shoves the envelope into her pocket.
***
"Hey Dana, can you pass this on to Garcia if you see her?"
Trinity summons the courage on her way out the door.
Despite the rumours, Dana Evans does not leave this hospital, and Robby flames out, even after that last shock, violent attack. Trinity doesn't know the older woman well, but any medical professional with common sense knows that such a thing would be a great loss. Instead, there is some compromise with the higher about a sabbatical and long service leave. Dr Robby tangles with anyone who tries to deny the need for nurse appreciation.
"Thought you two weren't playing those games anymore, kid? She orders you to scrub in everything on the third or fourth organ trip to the OR and does her hair with that extra Frenchy twist and high-end sneakers. It's not for the likes of us. Dana gives her a long, searching look while dragging on her cigarette.
"Garcia would refuse to let her dress standards slip, even if it was the end of a triple and she was down two OR nurses or teachies; it didn't mean anything." Trinity snorts, holding out the small envelope beseechingly.
One of Trinity Santos's biggest fears is facing the scrutiny of her personal life and the implications that her secret life somehow detracts from the competency of her medical advancements. The same happens when she figures out life after reporting her coach to the authorities.
"Keep telling yourself that, Kid, and hand over your package. I'm sure Garcia will be by, haunting out the latest and greatest cases and bantering with Robby If not her, Walsh will play errand girl. Those surgeons didn't work in the Emergency Department." Dana shrugs as she carefully reaches for the next circular.
It's not an instinct to give people gifts or trust someone else to be the delivery method, but she has held onto this voucher and simple apology card for too long. At first, she figured there was no way that Garcia would ever reach out, and she should notify the hard-working nurses, who do more to guarantee their success sometimes than the best attendings.
"Hey Santos."
Trinity turns with the instinctive need to obey charge nurses.
"People here are raging at you for ratting out Frank on your first day. There are signs that all of us should have seen, especially those of us who have seen him go through the professional ranks. It creates a minor earthquake when one of the ones you thought had the impossibility of the Pitt figured out, only to realise he was doing a quiet flame out."
"Oh, don't worry about it; this is far from the first time I've been nosy and brash one who pushes the last tower out of the Jenga tower. Being unpopular but too competent to ignore, one is my native language. If you want to hear my mother lament my horrible Tagalog, it's most likely a good thing.
"Whatever your breaks in life, if that were your only role in this overgrown high school, then you wouldn't be amongst the first people doctors call on, both from Night and Day shift. Not to mention your ability to be a detective with the quiet ones." Dana sounds strangely earnest in the attempt.
"Ugh, thanks again. I will see you tomorrow. Off to find some decent crap to help Huckleberry decorate his room; it's depressingly and distressingly monastic that not even everybody's blond-hound can pull off.
Trinity gives the nurse an awkward goodbye wave before putting in her headphones. Against her better judgment, she loads the private playlist on the next envelope that appears amongst her stuff and under her cup in the breakroom. The title is 'OR Jam,' which doubles as a workout and running soundtrack.
****
Trinity demands her body back.
A triumph comes from changing out of scrubs (thankfully without any projectile bodily fluids) into training gear. The actions of the former coach and 'family friend' made Trinity's life hell in so many ways, taking her sense of safety, confidence in her body, mental health, and, ultimately, her closest friend. She has the right to start reshaping that narrative again.
"How can you move, much less plan to put your body through more pain?" Victoria asks with genuine wonder in her voice.
"Oh, Trinity has an extra level for training and exercise, especially when the weather is fine. I'm the one who will hibernate on the couch," Dennis supplies helpfully as he carefully stores everything away in his locker as if he expects some of his values to disappear at any moment.
Nobody in their friendship group or trauma bonding session thinks about the two unlikely roommates. In this economy, there are a thousand ways to share the loud, cost, and hard work of surviving until you can pay off student loans. Even Jarvadi needs to hustle, using her mother's textbooks/
"Fair enough, just don't pull a Garcia and try and fix your own spanked or broken ankle; we have had enough doctors stitching themselves up, Dr Robby has enough trouble with HR." Samara gives her a long, concerned look.
Trinity flushes at the memory and the now familiar white envelope that pokes out of her backpack. Now that she explains how many people are in Yolanda Garcia's Network of Influence, she gives up trying to trace the origin. Instead, she shoves the offending object back into her bag.
Sometimes, she still feels the ghost of that first scalpel and the impact on Garcia's foot.
"Are you kidding? I may like you losers, but I won't trust you to patch me up outside MCI. Don't worry; I spent half my childhood learning decent, strengthening and stretching routines, retiring early enough not to destroy my joints.
Garcia's latest offering is a voucher for a decent coffee and lunch place a few blocks from the hospital. Trinity likes the strength of the brew, and the owners build their income around desperate hospital staff. More to the point, she could shout Whitker a few sandwiches without hurting his pride.
***
"I'm shouting you dinner tonight, Huckleberry/”
"You don't need...."
Money remains a sensitive topic for both junior doctors, although for different reasons. Whitiker instinctively protests every time Trinity makes such declarations. However, if there was ever a day to challenge the unwritten rules about fairness, it's one where Dennis has an awful day and has an argument with his eldest brother after making a mistake with a patient.
"For the last time, I know I don't need to stock your pathetic grocery order with a few med students' staples, but that will happen every few weeks. If it makes you feel better, I am craving something and you are half-way decent company, but first we are going for a jog."
"Really? My back is still recovering from last time."
"You'll survive, and the doms are easy enough to counter when you start. Your farmboy muscles need more balance coupled with endurance and stamina." Trinity slings an arm over his shoulder, guiding him towards his fate.
As the roommates pass the nurses' station, Princess gives a look that is a mixture of affection and exasperation at humanity, and more specifically, trainee doctors. She gestures for Trinity to come over, wanting to check some notes before she signs out. At the same time, she offers one of the familiar white envelopes, which she shoves into her pocket, just like the rest.
Trinity Santos learns the ropes of being a friend.
"Come, keep moving, Huck. Remember those farmboy muscles or surviving your brother chasing you; It's important to have additional stamina now that you are part of the Street Outreach programme. Your heart needs to be stronger in more ways than one, Huck." Trinity slows so that the younger can catch up.
Trinity Santos is scornful and distrustful, but she doesn't need to change her theoretical character flaws. Most of her therapists are gentle with broaching the topic of trust, knowing she never had a solid grounding in this. Everybody in medical school must find their niche; the obsessive, expert, and keeping everybody at a distance is hers by default.
Dennis 'Bloodhound/Rat Catcher Whitker lives up to her assessment of him in many ways, but her first impression of his medical skills was superficial.
"I'd rather be out there, making changes in the hardest spaces, easing people into a little bit of grace, than keeping my medical knowledge to the confines of the hospital." Dennis shrugs, panting lightly but obediently, lengthening his strides to match.
"I am a profound disappointment to my devout Filipino relatives, but I am sure that there is a parable from the Book of Luke in there somewhere. Whatever gets you through the day, Huck." Trinity is careful not to mock her roommates' coping strategies.
Thankfully, the training session still had many of Whitker's protests about dinner. He gratefully slides into the booth and orders his favourite meal, insisting on buying the first rounds of mocktails. When he starts making friends with the staff, Trinity glances into the envelope and sees the name of a muscle cream.
The instruction, "I use this on my foot; it works for double shift," is in that familiar handwriting.
***
Well, this night was a bust.
Trinity Santos did not have high expectations about the matchmaking skills of her (few) friends from her colleague. Still, the lack of chemistry with the photographer is almost next-level Cupid's incompetence. Still, it wasn't a waste finding one of her local queer-friendly hangouts, sitting and listening to a decent band play, and easing the stress of the last few weeks. A violet-blue glass with a rainbow umbrella appears on the table.
"Sorry, I am not drinking tonight..." Trinity feels relaxed enough to be polite in her brushoff, only to catch sight of familiar, highly skilled hands.
Yolanda Garcia looks brilliant in every context, with her high-fashion sense and expensive makeup. She mocks the featureless scrubs and makes them look wonderful. However, there is a new level when the older daughter puts effort into looking good and impressing everyone in the room. Trinity Santos will always stand her ground and stay on the defensive, but the outfit makes him do an apprentice double-take.
'It was a safe bet that you wouldn't drink on a first date in a new part of town, not to mention the night before a shift. This place has a decent selection of 0% options." Yolanda Garcia slides onto the stool opposite without a care in the world.
"I am still troubled; being several neighbourhoods away from the hospital doesn't shift that reality. Half the day shift would tell you that in many ways. The others are working to ignore us, unless they aren't part of the junior Pitt crew." Trinity glowers at the other woman but manages to take a sip of the drink, which isn't bad.
"Look, contrary to my presentation amongst the interns, I'm not perfectly in control all the time, flying in and out of the Emergency Department, grabbing the best cases and pushing to crack chests open while ignoring better advice. You gave me whiplash, leaping from our competent banter and one-upmanship to making a serious accusation against one of the best doctors I know. Those last few hours weren't my best."
"I bet you regret seeing something in me and not a much safer bet in Mohan or Javardi, who rock medicine in their ways. Mel is the queen of competency and calm, even if her world views outside the Pitt are a little worrying." Trinity gives voice to the point that she knows to be true.
"Well, I appreciate you signing the virtues and vices of your friends in a very Michael 'Robby ' Robinavitch way. I am not looking for a new side in the OR. We have our eager batch of young future surgeons. For better or worse, when handling a senior resident, you and I are in this dynamic."
"If you want to avoid heightening the gossip around me being trouble, delivering messages and missives in white envelopes wasn't the way to do it; you do realise that there was limited explanation in either your first offer for a drink or the many envelopes." Trinity swirls the last of the drink.
"I figured we couldn't fall into the same dynamic, not when you were no longer a first-day rookie and everything with Frank went to hell. Would you believe that I was building up courage?" Garcia shrugs with a bashful attempt at a smile.
"You will not have any luck scoring tonight if you have this mixture of self-depreciation and failure. Shake it off, Garcia, it doesn't suit you."
"Can we just sit here and drink for a while? At least a reduced version of me would be better than that artist who bored you to tears. We can scope out better opportunities?" Garcia asks as she signals the passing server.
"I'll trade you those dim prospects for hearing about your best cases of the last week, and if there is any truth to the fact that you stopped a near-fatal arterial tear." Trinity waves away the offer with a skeptical look.
***
"Are you sure you want to be seen with the troublemaker intern in public now that we can't pass our meeting off as sapphics in the city?
Trinity Santos isn't sure why she eventually gives in and agrees to meet Gracia on the resident's turf. It is an LGBT-themed cafe run by a few close friends several blocks away from the hospital, and it is not somewhere that Trinity finds on her regular exploration of the city. She arrives five minutes early, but in Ponte, Yolanda looks ineffective in dress pants and a tailored shirt.
A small part of Trinity wants to think that the other doctor makes an effort for her, but Yolanda Gracia rocks 15-hour scrub fashion shows, and of course, she looks good on her days off.
"I was the one being an arsehole and trouble, marginally better than Frank, only by not doing anything illegal to control withdrawls. You didn't deserve that, even if you were a nameless concerned intern, and not you." Gracia fiddles with the edges of the menu while keeping her gaze steady.
"Wow, did it hurt to go through a module on 'Interpersonal Skills for Future Surgeons? Was it physical agony that it was a dick move to make a sport out of mixed messages when everybody's favourite goldendoodle owner was crashing out?" Trinity cannot help the bitterness that seeps into her words.
"If it helps, rumours of me giving you the brushoff make it quickly between the Pitt and my favourite OR team, Emery was fairly intentive in the way she called me out for being a first-class coward because Langdon played me for a fool and my natural conflict avoidance." Gracia hunches over her coffee cup protectively.
"My memory is wrecked from those last two shifts, but didn't I accept a version of this spiel somewhere between OR 3 and 4? My goodwill is fairly cheap when you can offer something interesting." Trinity doesn't bother to look at her companion; instead, she focuses on the expensive coffee options.
"Ever the overachiever, I managed to hurt you in more than one; it was easy to make amends with Dr Santos, but not the person I wasn't subtle about wanting to know underneath. There isn't even a clever joke that I can weave in about loose scalpels and the tendons in my foot, believe me, it wasn't for lack of trying or workshoping with Walsh." Garcia manages a weak smile that looks more like a grimace.
"The truth would be more interesting; Rumour has it that, or at least what I'm piecing together, is that Dr Yolanda Gracia might have a pattern. Selecting a hotshot young intern or junior resident to flirt or play with like a beloved mouse, something like a grown-up Tom and Jerry, with much more sapphic undertones and cooperation in the OR." Trinity finds comfort in going on the attack and assuming the worst.
"Ouch, that scuttle bug sounds like a medical drama and HR lawsuit all in one; I can claim much moral high ground in this or any situation, for that matter, but do not use the lower ranks of the staff org chart as a personal Tinder. Gloria would have my resignation faster than her latest budget constraint."
"Dana has your back in that respect, and I figured a player like that would find better luck at one of the private gigs that always threaten to close us down. I know what a woman liking me and struggling for words looks like, calling me a snitch when my first day gets rough, was about the worst ways to go, for future reference." Trinity breaks off, turning her attention
Trinity works to process this confession; it's more words than she has hurt from or about this woman in the last weeks and months. She feels a level of triumph in knowing that Yoland Gracia feels conflicted about this situation, even if she looks effortlessly cool and talented. This coffee would have been worth it for the instinct confirmation alone.
People like Trinity Santos don't hope for more; it's a fool's errand.
"If there were a chance for a surgeon to get an upgrade on interpersonal skills, then I would sign up in the last few months. Could we start with getting to know each other outside the hospital walls and the next catastrophe? Have coffee or dinner with me?" Gracia asks, breaking off pieces of her cake.
"I am not going to shut up about the people above me. You are asking out somebody who isn't going to stay quiet when the next Landogn occurs, no matter how talented or likeable they happen to be or how unlikable it makes me tired, the meek talk once, never again." Trinity glows to get her point across.
Few people learn the full extent of the legal manoeuvring, public shaming, and everything else involved in being a whistle-blower and 'victim' in those circumstances with that authority figure. Yolanda Garcia will not be part of that list, but the same steadfast principles hold when it comes to an arsehole senior attending. As always, a small part of Trinity, behind the brashness, will always cower at the vulnerability.
"I wouldn't expect anything different from the innate strength that I have seen..." Garcia begins
"Or had your minions report back to the surgical floor since you are making an art of avoiding the Pitt when I'm on the floor or at least not occupied with another patient." Santos counters pointedly, with a sceptical look.
"All that I can hope is that Frank's situation is unique and will not put such a horror show, even if it's with a difficult and stubborn intern; there are better ways to confront the situation now that when we have a step back from your mass casualty incident of a first day." Garcia insists earnestly, her voice uncharacteristically soft
Trinity Santos isn't sure how to play these moments and insights. She will face the next addicted or raging doctor without hesitation. Still, she needs to walk through her internship and shifts with the same people who adore the senior resident, Dr Robby's most trusted confidant; every time there are whispers about rehab, Trinity does her best to disappear into paperwork.
"I don't agree with Dr Robby's assessment that quieter days were ahead, but at least there isn't so much infighting and drama, along with regular hours, which is always a toss-up in the Pitt. Keira and Danna hover with intent, so the HR portals aren't a mystery to me," Trinity replies with more confidence than she feels.
"Would you like to take advantage of those hours and have dinner next Friday? I've been wanting to try the new Thai place around the corner. They are doing interesting things with curry paste and spices. My favourite nail tech was raving about their appetisers." Garcia asks, a lilt and nervous crack in her voice.
"Why look at your pedicure range? Such reviews have considerable sway. Is your nail technical ranking on equal par with your heroes of medicine? You'll beat a night on the coach, revisiting with my roomie, so educate me on your firm opinions about Thai fusion. " Trinity holds up her hands as if weighing an invisible scale.
"I think it will be hot, filling, and quick after a long shift, and you will continue to impress with your odd mix of arrogance, extreme competence, and flashes of empathy." Garcia leans her head on her hand and looks at the other woman searchingly.
Yolanda Gracia doesn't have a major personality transplant outside the hospital. She is still direct to the point, a strange mixture of surgery obsession and flirtatious, dropping in a few hints about likes, preferences and the hint of a life outside the walls of the hospital environment,
"I'll work on that without letting any sharp instruments slip through my fingers in the presence of the woman who embodies most of those concepts, complete with the rockstar surgeries." Trinity feels a faint blush heat her cheeks.
"That's good, because it would be difficult to come up with a second convincing story for why I have such a wound in my foot, between the tendons."