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Mel jerked awake to her phone buzzing. She always kept the ringer on, just in case Becca needed something in the middle of the night, so of course she assumed that’s who it was. But before she could actually grab the phone, it registered in her mind that it was Friday night. Becca was asleep in her room here at the apartment. She wouldn’t be calling. If she needed something, she would have just walked down to the hall to Mel’s room.
Rubbing her eyes, Mel reached for the still ringing phone. Maybe it was a scam call or something, and she could just turn it off and go back to sleep. But no. When she finally got a glimpse of the caller ID, her eyes snapped open. She rushed to press the phone to her ear. “Trinity?”
“Hey.” Trinity’s voice sounded odd, somehow. Strained. “Are you awake?”
“Um.” Mel blinked a couple of times, trying to get her bearings. A quick glance to the clock on her bedside table let her know it was just past one in the morning. “Yes. Yeah. I’m awake now.” Confusion bubbled up inside her – what would Trinity need from her in the middle of the night? Tripping slightly over the words, she asked, “Are you–are you okay?”
Trinity made some noise that sounded almost like a laugh. Or a cough, maybe. Mel couldn’t quite hear her well enough to figure out the difference. “Hey.”
“You said that already.” As she spoke, Mel reached over and grabbed her glasses. Even though she technically didn’t need to be able to see right now, it always helped her to feel like she was in control. Ready for anything.
“Okay.” Trinity mumbled.
Even though she was still mostly asleep, it seemed to Mel that Trinity wasn’t making a whole lot of sense. Maybe she was drunk? But no, that wouldn’t make sense. When they’d gotten off shift earlier in the evening, Trinity had told her that her big Friday night plans mostly involved ordering pizza and going to bed early. She hadn’t mentioned anything about going out or drinking. “Are you okay?” she tried again, unsure what else to ask.
There was a long silence. Mel could hear ragged, uneven breathing coming through the phone, but not much else. She opened her mouth to repeat the question, but Trinity cut her off before she could start to speak. She said…something, but Mel couldn’t quite understand. It was just a jumble of slurred vowels. “What?” With every passing second, her confusion began to transform more quickly into worry. Something wasn’t right.
Trinity repeated herself, and this time Mel could make out, “Come over?” She sounded unsure of herself even as she asked, like she was doubting the words coming out of her mouth.
“You want me to come over?” Mel knew she wasn’t being particularly helpful, but she was still just so confused. They’d only been dating for a little while, so they hadn’t quite reached the stage where impromptu, midnight hangouts were expected. If there was ever a time in a relationship where impromptu, midnight hangouts were expected.
“Yeah.” Trinity took a shaky breath. “Come over? Don’t wanna…” her sentence trailed off halfway through.
“You don’t want to what? Can you speak up?” Mel clicked the volume of her phone up as high as it could go and pressed it firmly to her ear.
“Don’t wanna die by myself.” Trinity said the words so casually, albeit sandwiched between labored breaths, but they shocked Mel fully awake.
“What?” She frantically pushed herself out of bed, adrenaline suddenly coursing through her veins. “Why–why do you think you're going to die?” She didn’t wait for a response before grabbing her pajama pants off of her bedside table and hurriedly stepping into them, keeping the phone pressed against her ear with her shoulder.
“Hurts. Bad.” She grunted quietly with the effort of forming the words. “Want you.”
Pangs of fear flickered through Mel’s mind. “What hurts?” Trinity just whimpered in response, which did nothing to assuage Mel’s concern. “Trinity. Trinity, listen to me. Is Dennis there?”
Trinity grumbled in disagreement and muttered, “Farm.”
Of all times for him to be gone, of course it was tonight. Mel ran a hand through her tangled hair and quickly pulled a pair of socks from the drawer. “Okay. I’m on my way. Just stay calm, okay? I’ll be right there.”
“Mhm.” Trinity whispered.
Before Mel got a chance to say anything else, the line went dead. Trinity must have hung up. “Damn it.” Mel cursed under her breath and stuffed her phone into her pants pocket before she rushed out of her bedroom. Halfway down the hallway, she passed by the closed door to Becca’s room, which effectively stopped in her tracks. “Damn it.” Becca. She was home. Mel couldn’t just leave her alone in the apartment. She had no idea what was going on or how long she’d be gone, and Becca always needed some level of supervision. Even besides that, if she woke up to Mel suddenly being gone, she’d freak out. “Okay. Okay, think.” Mel tapped her fingertips together, drumming out an anxious pattern. “Just…think.”
Somehow, amidst the panic flooding her mind, she managed to access her logical reasoning. Maybe she had her emergency room training to thank for that, for the ability to stay calm under unexpected pressure. Or maybe it was more like a leftover habit from her childhood, when she’d always been ready to adapt to whatever Becca needed at a moment’s notice.
Once she’d found a glimmer of an idea, she tugged her sneakers on, grabbed her car keys and apartment keys, and headed out into the hallway, being careful to close the front door quietly behind her. Instead of rushing down the stairs to the lobby, she ran up a flight.
“Mrs. Hughes?” Mel called. She rapped on her upstairs neighbor’s door as she spoke, knowing that the knocking was probably drowning out any sound of her voice. “Mrs. Hughes!” She tried to keep her voice low enough that she wouldn't wake any of the other building residents, but still loud enough to get the result she needed.
Sure enough, the door swung open. There, in the doorway, stood Mrs. Hughes. She squinted in the harsh glare of the hallway light and pulled her robe more tightly around herself. “Melissa? What on earth is going on?”
Mel inhaled sharply and tried to keep her voice as steady as possible. “I’m so sorry to wake you up. My–um, my girlfriend–” she cut herself off, twisting her fingers together tightly. Stay calm. Just explain. Stay calm.
Mrs. Hughes’ gaze softened and she reached out to clasp Mel’s hands in hers. “Slow down, hon. What’s wrong?”
Mel squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, distancing herself from the situation long enough to explain, “My girlfriend’s sick, or-or hurt, or something, um. She’s having an emergency, and I need to go–to go over there, but I–” She opened her eyes and tugged her hands free of Mrs. Hughes’ grip in order to gesture vaguely behind her. “My sister is home, and I can’t–”
“Okay, hon. Take a breath.” Mrs. Hughes held up her hands and motioned for Mel to calm herself. “I’ll go stay with Becca. You go check on your girlfriend. Alright?” She smiled gently, in that way that only grandmothers and elderly neighbors seemed to be able to manage to pull off.
Mel couldn’t seem to form words anymore. All she knew was that Becca was downstairs and Trinity was at her apartment, alone and in pain and thinking that she was dying, and her very sweet upstairs neighbor who she only kind of knew was standing there in front of her. She managed to nod, wringing her hands frantically at her sides.
“Okay, then. I just need your keys.” Mrs. Hughes held an expectant hand out.
That jolted Mel back into action. “Keys. Right.” She fumbled in her pocket for her keyring and placed it in Mrs. Hughes’ hand. Immediately, she grabbed it back. “Oh, wait, wait.” With shaky fingers, she tried to pull off the two most recent additions to the keyring – the ones that unlocked the door to Trinity’s apartment. She’d asked for a copy a few days ago in case of emergencies. She just hadn’t expected to need to use them so soon. Her hands were trembling too harshly to allow her to actually detach the keys, so Mrs. Hughes carefully took the keyring from her fingers. She slipped the keys off easily and passed them back to Mel, gently closing her fingers around them. “You go, darling. I’ll be there when you get back. I have your phone number, so I’ll call if anything happens.”
“Okay.” Mel nodded sharply and wheeled around, rushing back towards the stairwell. As she yanked the door open, she remembered to call, “Thank you!” over her shoulder. She didn’t wait for a response. She just ran down the stairs, down all four flights and through the lobby. She was in her car and on the road before she had a second to think.
Once she was driving, though, it was a different story. It wasn’t that far to Trinity’s apartment, but it was far enough that her mind had time to play through every horrifying thing that could have happened in the five hours since they’d left the PTMC. Had she gotten sick with a stomach bug or food poisoning? Or hurt, maybe, a broken leg or dislocated shoulder? Mel clenched her fingers tightly around the steering wheel. Or maybe it was something else. Something having to do with the scars on Trinity’s thigh. The scars they hadn’t really talked about yet, but the ones that Mel knew enough about to be able to infer. Now that the thought was in her mind, she couldn’t get it out. Couldn’t stop picturing Trinity sprawled out on the floor. Hurting. Bleeding. The words from the phone call echoed in her mind: Don’t wanna die by myself. Hurts. Bad. Mel bit down hard on her lip and floored the gas pedal, not caring about the speed limit or how much she usually hated driving in the dark. None of that mattered. The only important thing was getting to Trinity.
By the time she was standing at the lobby of Trinity’s apartment building, her hands were trembling violently. She just managed to unlock the door and hurtle up the stars to the third floor. Out of breath, she fumbled with the second key until she heard a distinctive click. She slammed the door open and burst into the apartment, any concern about making noise long forgotten. As she rounded the corner into the living room, she scanned the floor, the couch, the chair. Nothing. “Trinity?” she called, her voice sounding more frantic than she would have liked. “Trinity!”
“Hello?” The response was quiet, but it was definitely there. Mel followed the sound to the bathroom door, which was cracked open. She pushed it fully open and stopped. There, curled into a tight ball on the floor, was Trinity.
– – – –
Trinity blinked slowly. There was someone standing in the doorway. Someone with glasses and messy hair and a somehow familiar expression. Oh. Mel. Mel? She tried to sit up to get a better look, but the stabbing sensation in her abdomen wouldn’t let her. She winced and forced out, “Mel? Why…why are you here?”
Her eyebrows furrowing in concern, Mel dropped down to kneel beside Trinity on the cold tile floor. She pressed the back of her hand to Trinity’s forehead, searching for a fever. It wasn’t hard to find one. Trinity’s skin was clammy and Mel could immediately feel the unnatural warmth radiating off of her. Her words still rushed and panicky, she answered with the obvious. “You called me a little while ago.”
Trinity’s eyes went wide and she instinctively reached up to brush Mel’s hand away from her face. “Fuck. Fuck.”
“What’s wrong?” Mel leaned in closer, but Trinity brought her hand up to block her.
“I called you?” Trinity choked the words out, trying her best to ignore the mounting pain in her gut. Her thoughts were hazy. Everything felt foggy, lost in the mix of pain and cramping and the fever she was pretty sure she had by now. She remembered that she’d been thinking about how fucking nice it would have been if Mel was there, but she hadn’t called her. She would never have done something so stupid, something that would risk shattering her carefully constructed defenses. She wouldn’t have.
But Mel was nodding and saying something that Trinity couldn’t quite understand, and when she glanced down at the floor, she saw her phone lying only a few inches away from her face. Oh, fuck. She knew that flares could make her a little loopy, but they weren’t supposed to make her like this. Weren't supposed to make her call her girlfriend and beg her to come over, when she didn’t even know that she was sick.
She winced, her body tensing as Mel shook her shoulder. “Hello? Trinity?” Her voice was loud, like she was trying to get her attention.
Trinity grunted in acknowledgment. “You can go.” She forced the words out, forced herself to keep talking despite the urge to curl up into a ball and hide.
“What?” Mel sat back on her heels. Confusion clouded her face and she shook her head slightly. “No, I just got here. Tell me what's going on. Are you sick?” The question felt pathetic even as she said it. Clearly, the answer was yes. Her face was pale and her eyes were bloodshot, and that wasn't even accounting for the fever.
“Just go.” Trinity spat. “I'm fine. Didn't mean to call you. Go away now.” She kept her sentences short and clipped, hoping that would help her sound less pained. Based on Mel’s expression, she didn't think it was working. Fucking hell. “Go.” she insisted, trying her best to shove Mel away from her. Her arm felt heavy, though. Limp. It dropped down to the tile before she could even brush her fingers against Mel’s body.
“Woah, hey.” Mel reached out and grabbed Trinity’s hand. “I'm not leaving. I just got here. Tell me what's going on.” She repeated her previous statements in the hope that they would somehow get through. As Mel waited for a response, she quickly scanned her eyes along Trinity’s body. She was just wearing a t-shirt and boxers, and there were no visible cuts or blood, and no knives or blades around either. Mel let herself relax a little bit at the realization. No matter what was going on, at least it wasn't that.
Trinity clenched her jaw and tried to tear her hand out of Mel’s grip, but found that she couldn't. She couldn't do much of anything. Couldn't pull away or sit up or leave. The only thing she could really do was argue. She could always argue. It came naturally to her, more naturally than anything else. Especially when, like now, she was cornered. “Just fuck off. Go home.” Her voice rose with every word and she hated how hurt Mel looked. Like a little kicked puppy sitting there on her floor.
“Trinity.” Mel tried, and Trinity had to bite her lip to stop herself from giving in to her voice. It didn't matter how scared she sounded or how worried she was. She wasn't supposed to know. She could never know.
Seeing as she didn't have much power over her body at the moment, Trinity used whatever strength she had to turn her head to the side, away from Mel. Maybe then she'd get the hint. Maybe she'd get so fed up with Trinity’s refusal of help that she'd just get up and leave. That would be perfect, Trinity thought, pushing away the clawing fear in her chest at the thought of being alone again. Of feeling like this, alone. She knew that as soon as she stopped resisting, stopped fighting back, she wouldn't have control anymore. Over her body. Over any of it. And she needed to get Mel out of the apartment before that happened.
Mel, though, wasn’t leaving. Of course she wasn’t. Stupidly caring, determined Mel would never leave someone in a crisis. Even if they were being a massive bitch. She squeezed Trinity’s hand with her own and subtly – as though it wouldn’t be noticed – searched for her radial pulse. Once she found it and determined it felt steady, if maybe a little fast, she opened her mouth again. “Do you have a stomach bug? Do you think you picked something up from a patient?” Since she had no visible broken bones or bruises, that felt like the most likely option. Besides, people usually only lay on the floor of a bathroom as a result of an upset stomach. Trinity just laughed. The sound was strangled, but Mel was sure that’s what it was. “No?” she pressed, determined to get to the bottom of whatever the hell was going on. “Then what? Food poisoning? Did you eat anything strange?”
The questions were insistent and the pain was getting worse and Trinity needed Mel to get out. She wasn’t supposed to see her like this. They were dating, sure, but that didn't mean anything. Didn’t mean she was suddenly allowed to start being weak. “Come on.” she whispered. She knew she sounded stupid and pathetic, but it would be worth it if Mel would just go away. “Just go. I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine, you look terrible.” As always, Mel didn’t dance around the point. She brought her hand up to Trinity’s face and put her hand on her cheek, trying to force her to look at her. “Just tell me what’s going on. I can’t help if I don’t know.”
Trinity closed her eyes, refusing to look. She didn't need help. She didn't want help. She was fine. She was always fine. It didn’t matter that Mel was right there, that she didn’t have to be alone through this. She was supposed to be alone.
And then Mel was leaning closer and murmuring, “Please, Trin. Please let me help you.”
That did it. Trinity didn’t know if it was the please, or the nickname, or the fact that she just felt too damn terrible to resist any longer, but she opened her eyes. Mel reached out and brushed her fingertips through Trinity’s knotted hair. Quietly, she asked one more time, “What’s going on?”
Trinity exhaled slowly. This wasn’t how she’d planned to have this conversation. To be fair, she’d never really planned on having this conversation at all. It was just easier to pretend that her chronic illness wasn’t actually chronic and that maybe it would go away before anything got too serious in their relationship. But now Mel was looking at her with those big, scared eyes, and she supposed that now was as good a time as any. Glancing up to the ceiling to avoid having to look at Mel’s face, she muttered, “I have Crohn’s.” She winced at the sound of the words, how heavy they felt. How serious.
“Oh.” Mel sat back on her heels. She’d heard about Crohn’s disease briefly in school, and she rapidly tried to call up any of the little pieces of information she’d managed to retain about it. She knew it fluctuated in severity – unless she was maybe mixing it up with a different illness – so she asked, “Are you having a flare-up?”
Trinity bit her lip. She hated this. Hated the questions and the worry and having to tell someone all the details of the problems she’d rather keep private. Even Dennis didn’t know about her Crohn’s. That was the main perk of their one-and-a-half bathroom situation, that the master bedroom’s toilet was all hers. He didn’t need to know. No one needed to know. Except, apparently, Mel. “Yeah.” She forced the answer out through gritted teeth. “Started earlier today.”
“Okay.” Mel shifted her weight so that she was sitting cross-legged beside Trinity. A chronic illness confession hadn’t exactly been what she’d expected out of the night, but at least she was getting answers. She gently worked her fingers through Trinity’s hair, brushing it off of her face. "How are you feeling?”
“Fantastic.” Trinity joked. In reality, her rush of fear and adrenaline from being discovered was starting to wear off. And that meant her symptoms were creeping back. The nausea, the cramping, the twisting feeling in her gut that she knew meant she only had a few minutes to get herself back on the toilet. She swallowed hard.
Mel didn’t laugh at that joke either. “Trinity. That’s not an answer.”
“Damn, okay.” Trinity forced herself to roll her eyes. Stay casual. Everything is fine. “What kind of answer do you want?”
Mel hesitated for a second. She didn’t want to make this into some kind of presentation – she wasn’t an attending and this wasn’t an emergency room. This was just her girlfriend on the floor, clearly in pain. But she needed to understand, so she said, “Symptoms, severity, duration, and treatment.”
Trinity smirked at that. “It’s like I’m back at work.” But she could tell from the look on Mel’s face that she was serious, so she inhaled sharply. “Fine. Um. Some cramping, stomach pain. Nausea.” Those were the easy ones, the ones that even people who didn't know much about Crohn’s knew about. Mel was still watching her expectantly, though, so she wasn't off the hook yet. With another short breath, she continued. “Diarrhea. Vomiting.” Seeing Mel’s concern quickly grow, she clarified, “Both normal. Nothing crazy.”
Mel thought about that for a second. It made sense that, if Trinity had been sick for a while, she would be used to symptoms that would otherwise be worrying. But that didn't explain the phone call. “If it's normal, then why did you think you were dying?”
Trinity squinted at her. She couldn't tell if she was just too out of it to properly understand what Mel was saying, or if Mel had fully stopped making sense. “What?” she mumbled.
“On the phone. You said you…” Mel shook her head. She could still hear Trinity’s voice from the phone call. Small and panicked and fading in and out. Don’t wanna die by myself. “You said you thought you were going to die.”
Trinity squeezed her free hand into a fist. “Fuck.” She didn’t remember that at all. She should remember that. Maybe it was the fever fucking with her head. “Or maybe it was the blood loss.”
“What?” Mel’s voice jumped an octave. “Blood loss? Are you bleeding?”
Trinity blinked at her. Thoughts came slowly. So slowly. She thought she’d kept those words in her head, but maybe not. “What?”
“Are you bleeding?” Mel slowed down and enunciated every word. Panic pushed at the back of her throat, but she kept it tamped down. This was just like any case in the ER. Triage first. Get the information. Then act.
Trinity started to shake her head, then stopped. “Like. Not normally.” She couldn’t tell if her explanation made sense. What she meant was there was no open wound, no injury that needed to be cleaned and taken care of.
“What, then?”
“Doesn’t matter.” Trinity started to protest, but Mel shook her head.
“Yes, it does.” Mel didn’t want to bring threats into this, but she desperately needed to understand. And if Trinity didn’t want to tell her, then fine. “Don’t make me take you to PTMC.”
At that, Trinity’s eyes went wide. “Hey. Hey, no. I don’t want-”
“Then tell me.” Mel clenched her jaw, her words firm. She meant it. Any more hesitation, and she would drive Trinity to the hospital herself. Maybe Abbot would be able to drag the information out of her. Or Walsh, or Ellis, or someone. Either way, she would find out what was going on.
“Fine. Jesus.” Trinity groaned. She finally tugged her hand away from Mel’s grip and pressed it over her stomach. Fuck, it hurt. Pain sparked out from the center of her abdomen, pulsing every time she spoke or took a breath. But Mel was still waiting for an answer, and the absolute last thing Trinity wanted was to go to the ER as a patient, so she gritted her teeth. “I’ve been shitting blood, okay? Not bad, but enough.” Enough for what? She wasn’t sure. Enough to make her a little bit delirious. Enough that when she’d finally dragged herself off the toilet and curled up on the floor, she’d been scared enough to call Mel. Scared enough to think she was dying.
Mel nodded quickly. “How much?”
“I don’t know.” She’d only looked long enough to see that the toilet bowl was filled with bright red blood before hurrying to flush it away. She probably should have tried to guess how much it was before getting rid of the evidence, but she hadn’t thought to. It had already been a long night. She’d been essentially locked in the bathroom since she’d gotten home after work, alternating between kneeling in front of the toilet and hunching over on the seat. She wasn’t exactly eager to look at her bodily fluids for any longer than was strictly necessary.
“And has this happened before?” In the last few seconds, Mel had moved from panic to practiced, calm, crisis management. She checked Trinity’s pulse again as she spoke, monitoring it for changes.
Trinity nodded, a small, jerky movement. She chewed on her lip for a second. She wasn’t exactly in the habit of talking about this with people. With anyone. But at this point, what the hell? “Yeah.”
“Okay. What do you need right now? Do I actually need to take you to the hospital?” Mel honestly wasn’t sure. She hated being unprepared like this. At least at the ER, there would be people who were more knowledgeable, who knew what to do. But then again, the most knowledgeable person would probably be Trinity, since she was the one living with it. If she didn’t think she needed to go, then Mel didn’t really think she had a right to take her.
Trinity definitely didn’t think she needed to go. “No. No, no. Just…” Her stomach twinged in that all too familiar way and she grimaced. She could handle herself. All she really needed to do was get up, get off the floor, and get back on the toilet. Easy. But when she tried to push herself up into a sitting position, her head spun violently and she slipped back down before she could get a grip on anything to hold herself upright. She braced for the impact of her head hitting the tile floor, but it didn’t come. Instead, she landed in the crook of Mel’s arm. “Good reflexes.” she muttered.
“Just lie down.” Mel tried to soothe, but Trinity shook her head.
“Nope. Gotta get up.” She struggled against gravity and her own body, but it was no use.
“Hey, hey.” Mel did her best to hold her still as she thrashed around. “Why?”
“Toilet.” Trinity choked out, hoping that was enough to clue Mel in.
“Oh.” Mel seemed to grasp the concept, then asked, “Do you need help?”
Trinity just bit her lip. There was no way she was answering that. Not right now, not like this. But she didn’t argue either.
“I’m going to help you stand up.” Mel continued quietly. She moved from sitting to crouching so she could brace one hand behind Trinity’s back and grab hold of the edge of the sink with the other. “One, two, three.” As she reached the end of her counting, she stood up and used leverage to push Trinity up with her. Trinity’s hand flew out to grab onto something, anything, for support, and she found Mel’s arm. She clung on, swaying and unsteady on her feet. “Okay, now let’s get you sitting down.” Mel guided Trinity through the few steps to the toilet and put her hands around Trinity’s waist to hold her steady as she pulled down her boxers. She lowered her down onto the toilet seat and Trinity whimpered. Mel hurried to kneel beside her. “Is this okay?”
“Fine.” Trinity’s voice was strained and barely audible, a far cry from the harsh tone she’d had when Mel had first arrived. She wrapped her arms around her stomach and ducked her chin to her chest, squeezing her eyes shut. “You can go.” she mumbled. “It’s gross.” Any defenses she had left were less for her protection at this point, and more for Mel. There was no reason she had to stick around for this part. At least that’s what she told herself.
Mel knitted her eyebrows together in confusion. “You remember that I’m an ER doctor, right?” Trinity chuckled the tiniest bit at that, and she continued, “You know that we’ve both seen worse than a little poop and blood.”
“Mhm.” Trinity wanted to say something else, come up with some snappy comeback, but she couldn’t. The only thing she could focus on was the blinding pain in her stomach. She dug her fingernails into her arms, leaving angry red indents in her skin. “Fuck.” she breathed.
Carefully, Mel untangled Trinity’s hands from their vice grip and squeezed them in her own. “You can squeeze my hands.” she murmured. When Trinity did, she added, “Yeah, that’s it. Breathe.” They sat there for a few minutes, Trinity’s breathing rapidly growing more and more labored. She whimpered between breaths, pain evident in every sound. Desperate to be able to do something to help, Mel asked, “Can I get you any medication?”
“No.” Trinity’s voice shook as she spoke. “It’s not.” Another ragged breath, then, “Not bad enough.”
“What?” Mel thought she must have misheard. There was no way that pain this severe, enough to make her whole body tremble, wasn’t bad enough to call for medication.
Trinity squeezed Mel’s hands more tightly. She had to concentrate harder than she thought was possible to get the words out, and she knew this wasn’t the explanation that Mel actually needed, but she couldn't give that one right now. Couldn’t go into all the details of past meds and surgeries and experimental therapies. All the nights she’d spent on the floor, in a hospital bed, in worse pain than this. All she could do was grunt, “Took meds this morning. Then Tylenol. Can't take more yet.”
Mel rubbed her thumb over the back of Trinity’s hand. “Okay.” She wasn’t going to question it, not now. That could wait until later, when this whole night was over. For the moment, she just sat there. Watching.
Trinity curled forward and rested her elbows on her thighs, dropping her forehead down to her knees. She’d been through this before and she knew she would go through it again. It wouldn’t last forever. But still, she really, really wanted it to go away now. She forced herself to breathe through gritted teeth, in and out. Just breathe. Keep it together.
Time dragged out into a long, indeterminate haze. Trinity had no idea how long they'd been there for. She couldn’t really remember Mel getting there either, not with the fog that had settled in her mind. She was vaguely aware of the fact that her legs were getting numb, which probably meant she’d been sitting for a while, but mostly she was just registering the pain. It felt like her intestines were trying to rip their way out her body. She couldn’t quite catch her breath.
Mel squeezed Trinity’s hands gently, just hard enough to remind her that she wasn’t alone. Her heart continued to hammer in her chest as a lasting reminder of just how stressful and terrifying the night had been so far. From the phone call to the drive to now, it didn’t seem to be getting any better. Trinity was shaking, probably from a combination of the fever and the pain, and she tilted to the side, like she wasn’t able to keep herself upright. As the minutes ticked by, Mel had to move her hands to Trinity’s sides, gradually supporting more and more of her bodyweight. Part of her worried that Trinity would lose her balance entirely and hit the floor, so she tightened her grip, refusing to let that happen.
Eventually, the pain subsided a bit. It faded into the background just enough for the dizziness to take center stage. Trinity swayed, aware that she was depending heavily on Mel to remain upright. “Shit.” she muttered. “Can’t–um.” She shook her head slightly, her hands clenching into fists. Words were flighty, hard to catch. “Lie down?”
Mel got the hint. “Yeah, we can do that.” She quickly ripped off a wad of toilet paper and passed it over, keeping a careful eye on Trinity to ensure that she didn’t fall over. When it looked like she was ready, Mel said, “On three, okay? One, two, three.” She stood up and tugged Trinity up with her, essentially doing all the heavy lifting. As she waited for Trinity to pull her boxers back up, she asked, “Living room or bedroom?”
Trinity just shook her head and pointed down towards the ground. She couldn’t risk being that far from the bathroom right now. Mel looked worried, but she listened. It was so fucking sweet that she listened. Carefully, she lowered Trinity to the floor, guiding her to sit on top of the bathmat. Trinity didn’t waste any time before fully sliding down onto the floor and curling onto her side. She shivered, her teeth chattering. The dizziness made her feel like she was spinning, even though she knew she was lying perfectly still.
Mel glanced over the rim of the toilet bowl and swallowed hard at what she saw. It wasn’t that it was gross, like Trinity had tried to argue. It was just concerning. Extremely concerning. There was some amount of liquidy stool, but mostly the bowl was filled with bright red blood. “Okay.” Mel breathed. She turned to look at Trinity, who lay shivering on the floor. “I’ll be right back, okay?” Trinity mumbled something incoherent and Mel left the bathroom, leaving the door wide open. She rushed into the tiny kitchen and searched around for a water bottle. When she found one, she filled it up. Cup in hand, she next made her way into Trinity’s bedroom. She poked around the bedside table for a minute, searching for something. Sure enough, rolled up underneath the table, was a heating pad. She grabbed it with her free hand and returned to the bathroom.
Trinity looked pretty much the same when she got there. Small and curled up and trembling. “Hi.” Mel murmured, kneeling down once again. She passed the water bottle over to Trinity. “You need to stay hydrated.” Trinity groaned and shook her head, but Mel stayed firm. “It’s important.”
“Fine.” Trinity glared and took the bottle, threading the straw between her lips and taking a sip.
“And…here.” Mel uncoiled the heating pad cord and plugged it into the outlet over the sink. Thankfully, the cord was long enough to allow her to stretch it down to the floor. She held it up for Trinity to see, and she nodded, closing her eyes. Acknowledging that as acceptance, she tucked the heating pad around Trinity’s stomach. She sighed slightly, wrapping her arms around the pad. Mel set her hand down on Trinity’s head and gently stroked her hair. As she did, she hummed a little bit. No song in particular, just something that she hoped would be comforting.
Trinity sighed slightly. The water had eased the dizziness a little bit, but she could feel it swirling around in her stomach. The heating pad was nice, though. And Mel’s hand on her head. And Mel’s voice. It helped, kind of. As much as anything could.
After a while, Mel pulled her phone out of her pocket and checked the time. Almost four fifteen. Her body ached from sitting on the floor, and she was sure that Trinity felt worse. Breaking the silence for the first time since she’d sat down, she asked, “Do you want to go to bed?”
Trinity sniffled quietly. Everything hurt and she was so cold, and if she was being honest, being in a comfortable bed sounded like a great idea. But she couldn’t, because she needed to be able to get back to the bathroom, and with the way she was feeling she knew she wouldn’t be able to. She started to shake her head, but Mel interrupted. “I’ll help if you need to get up again.”
Trinity blinked up at her. She looked tired and stressed, with her hair in a mess outside of its usual braid. But more than that, she looked determined. And she looked reliable. Like she could be trusted. Haltingly, Trinity nodded. “Okay.” The word came out as a whisper, but Mel still heard it.
“Let’s do this.” Mel carefully extracted the heating pad from Trinity’s grasp, murmuring, “You’ll get it right back,” when she grumbled in protest. With her hands wedged into Trinity’s armpits, she helped heave her upright. Trinity winced as she stood up, her vision blurring. Mel didn’t let her fall, though. She wrapped one arm around her waist and led her into the bedroom. Trinity's feet dragged as she walked, since she was too worn out to fully lift them up.
After a long, slow walk, Mel helped Trinity lie down. It was more of a collapse than a gentle descent, but it got the job done. Then, Mel hesitated. She wasn’t sure what the protocol here was. They’d slept in the same bed before, but not like this, not when Trinity was sick. Or, she supposed, when she knew that Trinity was sick. Because apparently, she’d been sick for the entire time they’d known each other. She stood by the bed, considering asking what she should do.
“Stay.” Trinity mumbled, her face smushed into the pillow. She patted the mattress beside her just to emphasize the point.
A tiny smile snuck onto Mel’s lips and she nodded. “Okay.” Not needing to change clothes, seeing as she was still in her pajamas, she crossed around to the other side of the bed and climbed under the covers. Careful to not touch her too harshly, Mel draped one arm around Trinity’s waist and snuggled in close. Trinity sighed into the touch and closed her eyes. Everything still hurt, but she was so tired, and Mel was here. She could sleep, at least for now.
– – – –
Mel woke up to her phone buzzing. Again. But this was a different sound, not a call, but her alarm. She glanced around for a moment in confusion before remembering where she was and what had happened. This was Trinity's apartment. And Trinity was in bed next to her, thankfully still asleep. After the night they’d had, she definitely needed it. After Mel had gotten her into bed the first time they’d been up over and over again, trekking back and forth to the bathroom. It took her forever to go back to sleep each time because she was in so much pain, and with all the back and forth, Mel hadn’t fared too much better. She was pretty sure that some blood had gotten on the sheets in the process, but she’d been too tired to check.
Squinting into the middle distance, Mel tried to remember why she’d set an alarm. It was Saturday, wasn’t it? She didn’t have work today. As she lay there, the pieces gradually clicked together. If it was Saturday, and she didn’t have work, and she was at Trinity’s apartment…right. Becca. Mel untangled herself from the sheet as slowly as possible, taking extra care to not bump into Trinity and risk waking her up. As she climbed out of the bed, her gaze lingered on Trinity. She, if Mel was being honest, looked like crap. She was still too pale and visibly sweating, although she did look slightly better than she had last night. Mel stood by the bed and chewed on her thumbnail for a moment, thinking. She needed to leave. She needed to check up on Becca, and it wasn’t right to make Mrs. Hughes stay there indefinitely. At the same time, though, she couldn’t leave. If last night was any indication, Trinity wasn’t doing well at all. And even though Mel knew that she had Crohn’s now, that wasn’t nearly enough information. She needed to know a lot more about how bad it was, how it impacted her, how she was treating it, and – most pressingly – why she had been so committed to keeping it a secret when it was clearly an issue. But she couldn’t just stand here in Trinity’s bedroom, watching her sleep, so she needed to make a decision.
After a minute, she grabbed her phone and sent a quick text. When she heard Trinity’s phone buzz as the text came through, she tucked her phone back into her pocket and turned to leave the room.
As she slid into her car, she glanced at her reflection in the rearview mirror and sighed. Her hair was a mess and her glasses lenses were smudged and there were dark circles forming under her eyes from the long, sleepless night. Regardless, she started the car and pulled onto the road. It didn’t matter right now. There were more important things – more important people – to worry about.
– – – –
Trinity groaned slightly, shifting on the bed. She ached in the same, familiar way that she always did during a flare. Now that she was slightly more rested and no longer convinced she was dying, she could take stock of what was actually going on in her body. It wasn’t pleasant in any sense of the word, but she took a little bit of comfort in knowing that at least she didn’t feel any worse than she usually did under these circumstances. It was just the same cramps, nausea, and fever that she always got. The shaking had subsided, and, from a cursory glance of her arms and stomach, there was no rash that she knew could be a warning sign of something more serious. Nothing to be scared of. Just a flare. Just one more bad night.
She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, running her fingers through her hair. Onto the next problem. Even if she knew that she was fine, Mel was probably freaked. She didn’t remember all of last night, but she knew it had probably been a shitty – no pun intended – way to introduce her girlfriend to life with Crohn’s. She turned to the side, expecting to see Mel curled up next to her, asleep, but – nothing. The bed was empty.
Trinity bit down on her lip. “Fuck. Fuck.” Mel was gone. She’d scared her off. Last night had been too disgusting, too stressful, too hard. Everything she’d been afraid of. This was exactly why she’d kept it to herself. No one could know, especially not people she actually cared about, because it was always too much. Of course it was. Fucking hell.
As she chewed on her bottom lip, she reached over to her bedside table for her phone. She clicked the screen on to check the time, but the first thing she noticed was the text notification. She brought the screen close enough to her face to read: Good morning. I had to go home to check on Becca, but I will be back. See you soon. :)
Relief flooded Trinity’s chest so fast that she got a little bit lightheaded. Or maybe that was from the flare. Either way, Mel hadn’t run away. She wasn’t scared, or freaked out, or disgusted. She was coming back. “Thank fucking God.” Trinity mumbled, hurriedly typing back: see ya :p Text sent, she dropped her phone down onto the mattress and closed her eyes. It was fine. Everything was fine.
Her quiet celebration only lasted a moment before her body dragged her back to reality. Grunting from the pain that the movement brought on, she pulled herself out of bed and made her way to the bathroom. At least she could walk on her own now. “It’s the little things.” she muttered, sarcastic as usual, even with no one around to hear her.
– – – –
Mel sat in her car, parked outside Trinity’s apartment building. Her phone rested on her knee with the screen open to her lava lamp app. She watched the orange bubbles drift slowly back and forth. It wasn’t that she was agitated, exactly. Everything with Becca had been fine. She’d been understandably confused at where Mel had gone, but once Mel explained, she’d been okay with it. Mrs. Hughes was fine too, having slept through the night on Mel’s futon. She’d been making breakfast when Mel got there and had been quick to assure her that she’d be happy to stay for as long as Mel needed her to.
Now she was back, lingering outside Trinity’s place. She knew she needed to go in. She wanted to go in, wanted to make sure that she was doing okay. But at the same time, she knew that the conversation she needed to have wasn’t one that Trinity would be a willing participant in. If she hadn’t wanted to talk about it last night, when she felt like – and looked like – she was dying, she definitely wouldn’t want to talk about it now.
But waiting wouldn’t make the problem go away. It never did. Mel got out of the car and retraced her steps through the lobby and back up the stairs to Trinity’s apartment, unlocking the door much more calmly this time around. “Hello?” She called as she stepped inside.
“Hey. Bedroom.” Trinity’s voice came back in response.
Mel slipped her shoes off and headed down the hallway. She poked her head into the doorway and saw Trinity sitting up in bed, blankets pulled around her lap and clutching the heating pad to her stomach. Trinity nodded in a greeting, offering her a tight-lipped smile. “Long time no see.”
“Not so long.” Mel smiled back and crossed the room to perch on the end of the bed. With a quick glance down at Trinity’s stomach, she asked, “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine.” Trinity practically raced to get the words out. “You?”
Mel shook her head slightly. “No, I–I need more of an answer.” Trinity sucked in the side of her cheek in the way she tended to do when she was avoiding a question. Mel could sense her wracking her brain for some joke, some defense, so she preemptively added, “I think I deserve an explanation now.”
The straightforwardness of Mel’s words stopped Trinity in her tracks. She swallowed hard and kept her gaze trained on the bed. She knew Mel’s expression would be too gentle for her to resist, and she’s already revealed too much. She had to hang on to some shred of her defenses. She didn’t say anything for a long while.
Mel shifted so that her hand was resting on Trinity’s knee. She traced her fingertips in a soft circle over the blankets, not pushing any harder. Just waiting.
Eventually, Trinity cleared her throat. “Yeah. You do.” She tightened her jaw and curled her hand into a fist, clutching onto a handful of blankets to steady herself. “So. Where do you wanna start?” she forced the words out with a dry chuckle. Stay casual.
“The basics would be good.” Mel, following Trinity’s lead, avoided eye contact. She looked at her lips instead, watched the way they trembled.
“Okay.” Trinity inhaled sharply. The basics were easy. She’d told them to so many doctors over the years, what was one more? “I have Crohn’s. Specifically ileocolitus and gastroduodenal.”
“That means it affects your colon, stomach, and duodenum?" Mel clarified.
“Yep. Basically just my whole GI tract is fucked.” Trinity smirked. When Mel didn’t laugh, she continued. “Anyway, I got diagnosed at the start of college, but I’ve had it for longer. It’s pretty stable right now. The meds I’m on mostly work.” She didn’t need to look up to Mel to know that her expression was skeptical, so she hastened to add, “I mean, obviously I still have flares. But they basically go away on their own. I’ll be back to normal by Monday or Tuesday, probably. Before these meds it was…” she sighed deeply. “Worse.”
“Okay.” Mel’s voice was quiet. She didn’t want to scare Trinity away, not when she was actually talking. But still, she had questions. “What medications are you on? And what’s your normal?” That last one felt particularly relevant, because she’d known Trinity for almost seven months now, and they’d been dating for a few weeks, and she’d had no clue about any of this – which either meant Trinity was actually okay most of the time, or she was just excellent at hiding it. As much as Mel wanted to believe the former, she had a sinking feeling that it was probably the latter.
Trinity brushed the question off with a roll of her eyes. “The meds don’t really matter. It’s just two: a pill and an injection. I’ve been on them for a while, so it’s whatever.” She flashed a confident smile, hoping that answer had been good enough to distract Mel from the rest of her question. Predictably, though, it wasn’t. Mel raised her eyebrows expectantly. “And, I guess, my normal is pretty average. Officially, my doctor says it’s ‘moderate-to-severe,’” she mimed air quotes along with the words, “but it’s way more moderate than anything else. Usually it’s just like cramps and diarrhea and some nausea. Vomiting sometimes.”
Mel nodded slowly, taking in her words. “And are flares always like this?”
Trinity shrugged, licking her lips uncomfortably. “Like. Kinda. Each one’s different. I probably have like one every month or two, but I haven’t had a bad one in a couple years.” A flash of anxiety flickered in her chest like it always did when she thought about that. Her second year of med school and the flare that was so bad it landed her in the hospital and on steroids, with her doctor warning her that surgery would be in her future if she didn’t get her shit together. So she did. She stuck to her medication schedule and never missed a dose, she ate the foods she knew wouldn’t agitate her stomach, she kept her head down and pushed through each flare as it came. She had it under control.
She was so lost in thought that she almost missed Mel asking, “And what do you take for the pain?”
Trinity had to laugh at that, shaking her head. “Yeah, good question. Tylenol.” She held her hands up, heading off any more questions, “I promise, that’s all I’m supposed to take. Other OTC stuff can make it worse, and no one prescribes anything stronger unless it’s really bad. It does the trick most of the time.”
Mel couldn’t pretend that she wasn't skeptical about that, seeing how much pain Trinity had been in last night – and, based on the way she pressed the heating pad to her body, how much pain she was in now. But she didn’t know enough to challenge her about it. Not yet, anyway. She made a mental note to do as much research into Crohn’s as she possibly could. Besides that, though, she really only had one more question. And it was by far the most important. She squeezed Trinity’s knee gently as she murmured, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Trinity stiffened, and Mel couldn’t tell if it was from the touch or the words. “I didn’t tell anyone.” she muttered.
Mel blinked, surprised. “What? What about Dennis?” She’d just assumed that living in such close proximity with someone would have made something like this impossible to hide.
“No.” Trinity shook her head. “Perks of separate bathrooms, right?” She forced a smile. “I mean, I have a GI doctor, and I’m sure it’s mentioned in my PTMC file, but no one reads that shit anyway. So no one knows. Except…” she trailed off, nodding vaguely in Mel’s direction.
“Oh.” Mel exhaled slowly. “Okay.”
“Which means we gotta keep it between us, yeah?” Trinity’s words were light, but her tone was dead serious. “I don’t want anyone else knowing. I didn’t even want you knowing, it just…kinda happened.”
Mel shook her head, still confused. “But why? Why wouldn’t you want me to know?” It didn’t make any sense. They’d been friends for a while, and even if Trinity didn’t want her friends to know, it would only be logical for her to have explained once they started dating. Having a chronic illness felt like the kind of thing someone should tell their girlfriend about.
Too tired to put up any real fight, Trinity just shrugged. Under her breath, she muttered, “You have enough going on.”
“What?” Mel squinted in confusion.
“You have enough shit!” Trinity's voice rose without her meaning to, and she had to take a breath to get it back under control. “You take such good care of your patients, and you take such good care of Becca, and I don’t want you to feel like you need to take care of me. I can take care of myself.”
“But you can’t.” Mel protested. Trinity’s face immediately hardened, and she rushed to add, “Not all the time, obviously you can take care of yourself. But people need help sometimes. So you should…” she shrugged slightly. “You should let me help you.” As she spoke, she slowly brought her hand up from Trinity’s knee until she bumped her fingers against Trinity’s.
Trinity didn’t let herself respond until she was sure she could keep it together. Mel was just so nice. So fucking nice, and so fucking good. Too good for her. But for whatever reason, she was here. She was here, and she’d witnessed a flare and not immediately run for the hills, so maybe that was some kind of positive sign. Maybe. It was too soon for her to know for sure, and definitely too soon to go around making any kind of promises, but she did manage to shrug. “Maybe.” she mumbled.
Mel seemed to somehow understand that that was the best response she could hope for at the moment. She carefully wrapped her fingers around Trinity’s, squeezing gently. “Okay. One more thing?”
Trinity flared her nostrils and glanced up at the ceiling. “What?” She knew her voice was too harsh, but she couldn’t stop it. There were too many questions, too much prying. She just wanted to stop.
“Do you want to watch a movie?”
“What?” Trinity dragged her gaze back to Mel, who sat there with a tiny, adorable smile on her face.
“I don’t have to go back home for a bit.” Mel explained. “I thought maybe we could hang out for a while?”
For the first time since this whole mess had begun, a real smile made its way onto Trinity’s face. She squeezed Mel’s hand back as she replied, “Yeah, sure. Let’s do it.” She sent Mel off to the living room with instructions as to where to find her laptop. When she returned, computer in hand, and settled back onto the bed beside her, Trinity ducked her head down to rest on Mel’s shoulder. As the movie started to play, she closed her eyes. The long night and the increased pain were still wearing on her, and it felt comfortable with Mel here. It felt safe. She let herself drift into sleep, at least for as long as her body would let her.