Chapter Text
Victoria's crush was going nowhere. It was never going to. A few hours ago after the frankly hellish shift that was the fourth of July, it had briefly seemed like something might happen between the two of them. Cassie, in that infuriating tank top and the gold chain that Victoria wanted to grab, had put her obnoxiously well muscled arm around her. Holding her close while they, along with a smattering of the rest of the exhausted and defeated dayshift watched the fireworks from the roof. Drinks had been passed around, but it was not a moment where tension was released like countless park bench evenings with the famous cooler. That night, it felt like the shift, the hospital, the city was stretched too tight to relax.
When Cassie had stated, not asked, no room for dissent, that she'd drive her home, she had become convinced that this would be the moment that it happened. Not necessarily the torrid act she dreamt of entirely too often, but perhaps a kiss, or at least a conversation that broke through the taut membrane of professionalism that contained the frustrating psychosexual energy into mentor-mentee relationship with overgrown plausible deniability.
Victoria had been the one to break the heavy silence in the older woman's lovingly maintained but definitely aged jeep "Cassie..."
"No, Javadi." Her mentor's voice was small, but firm and cold.
The preemptive rejection stung, "I didn't even say anything yet."
"You don't have to. I know. The answer is still no," her mentor paused, her voice cracking slightly "I'm sorry."
Victoria choked back a sob, caught somewhere between despair and fury "what do you mean 'I'm sorry'? What am I supposed to do with 'I'm sorry" Cassie?"
"I'm sorry because it's my fault you feel like this. The touches, the praise, I saw the effect I had on you, but I didn't want to believe it. I told myself I was just being a good teacher. Just helping you. Just giving you the encouragement you so clearly needed. But that's all it can be Vi-" She heard her own name catch in her mentor's throat. "That's all it can ever be, Javadi."
"Why?" holding in the anger and the pain and the tears took every ounce of willpower she had.
"Because I can't risk my custody with Harrison. Because if I am trying so hard to to hold on to control, and I can’t just let go. Because I can't ruin your future, Javadi, as some note in your file. Because you're a fucking M4 and your residency could take you anywhere and I don't want you making that decision because of a screw up like me."
The anger and the tears won. "I thought you were different, Cassie," her voice rising in fury as tears poured down her cheeks "that you wouldn't decide for me who I am, what i do, the shape of my future, who I lo-" she caught herself on the word. "But I guess you really are just like my mother after all."
Cassie fell completely silent. Still.
Victoria realized, to her horror, that the car had stopped, outside her parents home. When she got in the jeep, in her mind Cassie had been taking her to Cassie's home. It wouldn't have been the first time Victoria had stayed there after a hard shift, where the last thing she needed on top of a miserable day was her mother's judgement and expectations and constant undercutting.
Anger fell away, at least for now. Overridden by the fear of facing her mother. The decision to pursue emergency psych felt good, but it was fresh, tentative, fragile. The shift would have been hell even if she hadn't nearly lost a patient and faced her mother's critique. Her voice shook with panic and tears as she "Not here. Please."
"Victoria, I can't. Please don't ask." Her voice was defeated, pleading. The intention clear. Cassie was making her choice, and regardless of how reasonable the motive behind it was, making that choice was obviously painful for both women.
She stilled her nerves, a white knuckle grip on her own mind, a conviction forged of exhaustion and longing and resentment. "It's fine. I know where Trinity keeps a spare key. She told me I can crash there if I ever have to."
"Okay. Good." Cassie sounded relieved. Victoria wondered if the relief stemmed more from the knowledge that she would be safe, or that Cassie would be spared at least for now, the immediate consequences of her decision.
The drive to the building Trinity and Dennis lived in passed in uneasy silence.
Parking outside, Cassie hazarded a tentative "Text me that you made it inside safe?"
Victoria did her best to harden her voice, "It's probably best if I don't text you, isn't it? Maybe Trinity can tell you I'm fine."
"Sure. Whatever you need. Just. Be safe, Javadi."
-
After retrieving the spare from a lock box tucked in a potted plant and letting herself into her friends apartment, and finding herself alone in the chaotic explosion of clutter and comfort that Trinity and Dennis called home, she texted Trinity to let her know she let herself in and needed to stay the night. She didn't hear back, but thinking back she was pretty sure she remembered Trinity and Mel sneaking away from the fireworks group on the roof together.
She laughed a little thinking about that. An odd pair, but given how turbulent things had been between Trinity and Garcia of late, maybe at least one of the ED's queer disasters should get to have a nice night, deciding that of course, even if Mel was somewhere under the rainbow, that she didn't qualify as a disaster the same way.
After lingering for a long while on Trinity's couch without a response, or either of the two roommates coming home, she texted Dennis to let him know she would be sleeping there tonight and that Trinity was still out, and received a string of emojis in reply.
Dennis:(11:28pm) sound good. I'm at the Amy's farm until the 6th. you can use anything in my bathroom you need.
Dennis:(11:28pm)🚶➡️🏡🌽🐄
Dennis:(11:28pm) That's me farming. but emoji style.
Dennis:(11:28pm)You okay?
You:(11:45pm) Yes I'm okay. Just. Mom stuff. Weird ask. Can you text Dr. McKay and tell her I'm safe at your apartment?
Dennis:(11:47pm) I will. 🫡🫂
Thank fuck for Dennis. At least solitude was better than her mother. She thanked her past self for the emergency toiletries and sleepwear she kept in her backpack (which she had started keeping for when she wound up sleeping on Cassie's couch, an idea that seemed a distant memory now), and took what should have been a quick shower in Dennis's bathroom. It really would have been a quick one if she hadn't wound up sitting on the floor crying until long after the water went cold, as she forced herself to swallow the truth. Her crush was going nowhere.
Between R*bby, her newly-ex-situationship, the senior resident from hell, and general chumpfuckery, she has had a cromulent fuckcrustable of a day, and Trinity needy drinky. Frankly, she was all but patting herself on the back for redirecting her self-destructive impulses away from the disposable little frenemy she pocketed from the suture cart and towards a half dozen tequila shots and violently cathartic Alanis Morissette karaoke with Mel. Sweet Mel, with her stupid blue eyes, her golden hair, her goofy smile, her plump pink lips, her deeply pinchable cheeks, and the way her jaw muscles tighten when Trinity gets a smile out of her.
Hmm
Trinity wasn't sure if that train of thought meant she needed more drinks or less. She considered asking Dennis about the thoughts, but he was abandoning her to spend time with farmgirl and live at Robby's stupid house. She could have asked Crash, since at least she knew the girl understood having an inconvenient attraction to a set of piercing blue eyes, but Trinity had seen the way Vic and McKay were leaning against each other during the fireworks, so it was probably better not to interrupt her tonight. After all, at least one of the ED's sapphic disasters deserved to have a good night after the shift today.
She slammed back another tequila shot and punched her next song in for Karaoke, reasoning that if the crowd didn't want to hear her belt mournfully, the bar shouldn't have let in Trinity Santos on a crying night. She changed a few words of course, Trinity Santos did not sing about flirting with boys or 'Mr Right.' She did get some applause, not just from Mel, and at least one other patron seemed familiar enough with 70's show tunes to recognize the song.
Eventually she'd gently bullied a slightly tipsy Mel through her own solo number, and Trinity tried not to be jealous about the difference in crowd response than to her own solo. It did make sense that the drunk July 4th crowd enjoyed Kelly Clarkson more than tragic showtune ballads, she supposed. The pair of them settled tabs and stumbled outside, admittedly most of the stumbling was on Trinity's part, but she was doing plenty for both of them. Finding her phone apparently long dead, Mel hailed some form of rideshare, and the two piled into the back of some unremarkable honda bound for Trinity's apartment.
-
"You can go home first, Mel. It's kay." Trinity, suddenly uncomfortably aware of accepting help from the blonde.
"I want to make sure you're home safe before I go, Trin. You've kind of had... several drinks."
Trinity's face struggled to land on a single facial expression, landing somewhere between defensive and flirtatious "You sure you're not just trying to get me in bed, Mel-lifluous?"
Mel's brows furrowed "Yes, Trinity you do need to go to bed."
"No I meant. Like bed ." Trinity attempted to raise the most flirtatious eyebrow she could manage.
"You're drunk, Trinity."
"And you're gorgeous, Melodrama"
"What?"
"I thought we were just saying obvious stuff."
"Okay, Trinity." Trinity discerned a half smile on Mel's face, but wasn't quite able to interpret it.
The rideshare stopped at her apartment, and she was surprised to see Mel get out of the car as well. "I can make it up to my apartment, okay, Melatonin. You can just head home."
"I would prefer to make sure you're safely home first." Mel wrapped a warm, surprisingly strong arm around Trinity's shoulder, and Trinity felt her pulling the two towards her apartment. She hoped in the dim light Mel couldn't see the way her face flushed at the contact. "Come on, Trin. Lets get you to bed."
-
After fumbling with her keys for a frustratingly long time under Mel's watchful eyes, she finally got the door open.
She could tell that something was different in the apartment, but couldn't quite place it. Was the shower running? Dennis must have wanted a shower before Robbys. Or Amys. Or whatever. Not that she cared.
Mel sat her down at the counter, got her a glass of water, and made her drink it. Trinity hated this. She did what she was told.
"You can go, Melancholy. I'm a big girl. I've been drunk before. You got me home. I'm sorry."
That frustratingly cute look of concern scrunched Mel's face. "Why are you sorry, Trinity?"
"I took you out so you could get your mind off of your sister, your deposition. And here you are, caretaker-ing again. For my stupid decisions."
"I had a nice time, Trinity. I liked singing with you. I liked singing, even if it was scary. and..." Mel made that face that said 'I know what I want to say but not how to say it.'
"and what?"
"When you were singing, It sounded like you really needed to get something off your chest, maybe? You sounded so," she hesitated over the word, "hurt."
"Yeah."
"Are you gonna be okay, Trinity?"
"Probably." She tried to blink her eyes into focus, and realized Mel looked exhausted. "It's late Mellow-Yellow. You look beat. You can spend the night if you want. I know you said you'd just be going home alone anyway."
"Are you sure you don't mind? I would hate to impose."
"You're fine. Mel. You can take my bed, I'll sleep on the couch."
"It's literally your bed, Trin. I can sleep on the couch."
"No you can't, this couch sucks. It'll annihilate your spinal alignment. You take the bed I insist."
"Trinity that makes no logical sense. If the couch will, affect my spinal health that badly, it would do the same to yours."
"Well yeah, but I've only got the one bed, and nobody wants to sleep on Dennis's bed. It probably has farm cooties."
"I'm not sure farm cooties are a medical reality."
Trinity's energy was fading fast, but she wasn't going to let sweet, gentle Mel suffer the awful couch on her behalf. "I insist you sleep on the bed."
"We could share?" Mel offered hesitantly.
Trinity attempted, and failed to will herself not to blush. "If that's okay with you. I don't want you to be uncomfortable. I know physical proximity isn't your favorite."
Mel responded with a tight smile. "I'm exhausted Trinity. I could sleep under much worse conditions."
Trinity produced an old oversized sleep shirt and shorts for Mel to borrow, changed into her own sleepwear and the two of them drifted off to sleep on opposite sides of Trinity's bed. Both women were well and truly asleep before Victoria, eyes red and throat raw from sobbing made her way to the couch in her lilac satin matching sleep set and collapsed face down on the couch.
-
In the end, on that 4th of July night, none of the women in that apartment went to bed in the manner, or with the company they had hoped for or expected that morning, and uneasy dreams of expectations unfulfilled haunted them all.