Work Text:
(Hannah is used as a place holder name for Trinity’s old best friend who committed. In this universe, she loved her. They both loved each other, just never got the chance to love each other as deeply as they both knew they could.)
Spacing out, not dissociating, no that was too clinical; too real. Trinity often spaced out, slight detours into her mind, when the rest of the world came to a quiet halt. It was more comfortable than real life, if she was being honest. She got to go back, back to being in love.
“As long as we have each other we’ll be fine.” was a sentence she often found herself thinking back to in these moments. It was a reason to stay back then. Yet while this philosophy swayed her from the eternal fix that was suicide, it simply wasn’t enough for Hannah; she wasn’t enough for Hannah. It was a common theme in her life, not being enough, and being too much at the same time.
“You’re trouble.” She knew she was. Her first day and she had upset the order of a whole emergency department. She had a lethal touch, she infected the ones around her. She felt like a plague, a mold. She had tried to cut the mold out of herself, digging and gauging until it bled. Still it infested her body, it was a part of her, she was a part of it.
She had something good with Dr. Garcia. It was nice, the sex was great. Garcia never mentioned her scars or the tears that would form when she turned around at night as the other woman fled the bedroom. If Trinity was anyone but her, this could have become a great pairing, still - like she always did - she ruined it, their relationship wilting purely by the touch of her. Maybe Garcia could have been the one to end the spell Hannah had put on her, maybe one day she could fall in love with Garcia, free herself from the chains of childhood love. That didn’t happen though, because why would it. Why would Trinity fall in love again; she was already in love.
She was in love and she knew it. Her heart was no longer only filled with despair, it was sharing, fighting for, the space with love. She was still in love with Hannah, or well the now 8 year prior version of Hannah, the only version she would ever know, the only version anyone would ever know. Trinity knew that if Hannah still was alive she would still be in love with her, the changed parts of her, the parts that were the same, the way her face probably shifted slightly from the stress of her study or work, the freckle under her left eye Trinity made her promise to never cover with concealer; the one that at her funeral, the coroner had covered.
“Trinity?” She heard a soft voice say. She looked up and was met by the tired eyes of Dr. Al-Hashimi. A long day at work had a hard finish on everybody, but on Al-Hashimi it was different, it was raw, in a beautiful way. God she missed being in love. Why couldn’t it be Baran. She was beautiful and kind, and the way she cared for Trinity.
Trinity quickly realised where she was, on the curb, outside of the PTMC, tears welling in her eyes. “Hey Baran.” It was a nice development, using each other's first names. She supposed it was only natural.
“Are you going home alone tonight?” Baran asked, sitting down next to her. Not mentioning her slightly red eyes or the way she picks at her skin, instead opting to take her hand squeezing it tight. It was nice, exactly what Trinity needed. Still she was terribly scared, in what way was she going to ruin it this time? Would it be like in the past where she would meet a perfect girl - although no girl since Hannah had truly been as perfect as Baran - somehow not fall in love, no matter how hard she tried.
“Do you have Kian?” Trinity knew it was easier like this, especially when Baran had a kid. It had, nevertheless, always been easier this way, reducing herself to nothing but sex. At first it was to put a barrier, make sure she never fell for someone other then Hannah. Now it had turned into something else, making herself smaller before anyone else could. Reducing herself to just her body, so she had worth. Making sure that she had something to fall back to when everything crumbled under the weight of her own failures.
“He is.” Baran answered in a matter of fact voice, not faltering by Trinity’s implication. “But you’re welcome to come home and have dinner with us. You’re good with him.” Trinity stood still, she knew Baran was nice, of course she did, but still she hadn’t expected quite this. And maybe she wasn’t ready to hear it, she still felt like she would ruin it, and adding Kian into the equation didn’t help the guilt she already felt for however she was gonna mess it up.
“I’m sorry if I came on too strong.” Baran said after one too many moments of silence. She stood up from the curb. “Wait! No.” And suddenly no matter how scared she was, it didn’t matter, because right in this moment, even while trying to not hurt Baran, she had.
“I would love to eat dinner with you and Kian. It’s a date.” Although the sentence came out in one smooth continuous part, it felt like she had to force out the last part. Not because she didn’t mean it, but because she realised she was finally ready to mean it.