trinity honestly hadn’t wanted you to know.

the thought of relapsing after so long was not only weighing her down, but the thought of you finding out outweighed all other feelings about the situation. it was just a slip up, a silly mistake after a particularly draining shift.

except it wasn’t.

because she was doing it everyday, and the more she did it, the more she wanted to do it again. she craved the burn, craved the satisfaction she felt after. and she was a second year resident — of course she knew this wasn’t normal. of course she knew that mentally, she was malfunctioning. that the way she was handling things wasn’t healthy.

but the only thing that hurt more than the sting of the cuts was the knowledge that you would be broken if you found out that she was relapsed. you had been so lovely and understanding when trinity had first told you everything, when she first let you see the scars in an intimate moment that she would never forget.

but you thought she was fine.

and the worse part was trinity knew it would only be a matter of time before you figured it out. trinity was dodging sex to avoid getting her legs out, she wasn’t wearing shorts even though it was peak summer, and you weren’t stupid. but you were a sensitive soul that saw the best in people — the total opposite to trinity, but that’s why you two worked.

but trinity hasn’t expected it to come out like this.

it was a saturday night, after a long shift. trinity had her legs in your lap, and you were rubbing her calf. she was scrolling on her phone when she felt your hands stop. she followed your eyes to her thigh. where blood was seeping into her sweatpants. she felt her heart drop, and it only dropped further when you looked at her.

“trinity…” your tone isn’t angry. it isn’t disappointment. it’s care and concern. “when?”

trinity just shakes her head. wipes a tear before it falls. “two weeks ago. after the fourth of july shift.”

your breath catches softly, and you help her up. you’re both silent as you lead her into the bathroom, sitting her on the edge of the tub, kneeling in from of her to grab so,e cotton buds. you pull her sweatpants off, leaving her in her underwear.

it’s not sexual.

it’s not anger.

it’s care.