trinity feels scared.

the relationship between the two of you had been growing since it started.

it started when trinity treated you, a firefighter. you had flirted (horribly), while on the drugs given to you while they relocated your shoulder, and trinity couldn’t help but be attracted.

and then when you came back to find her a week later, asking, well, no, begging for a date, trinity agreed. the date started in a restaurant which led to a bar which led to trinity’s bed. and trinity had… well, she had woken up and kicked you out.

she only saw you a week later, when you came into the er with a broken nose. she had treated you. you had asked if she was in a relationship and that’s why she kicked you out. trinity wanted to slap you.

but you had been relentless. not in a creepy way, but in a way that really makes trinity consider that you must like her. you would come and drive her home. send her sweet messages. send her vouchers and small gifts.

trinity thought it was all too good to be true.

but a year and a half in and you’re still the same. hopelessly devoted to her. it works perfectly, your shifts mostly the same when she goes to the hospital and you at the firehouse. so when you do see each other, it’s clingyness and neediness and so much love.

but now trinity is working. a major incident — an apartment complex fire.

and then she sees you, getting wheeled in. burnt. this isn’t supposed to happen. you’re the firefighter. you’re the one who’s supposed to be saving people. trinity freezes. then runs over.

robby immediately tries to push her back gently, insists that trinity is too close. but trinity doesn’t care. she lunges forward. the burns are across the left side of your chest, arm, and up your neck.

“hey, hey, babe.” she grips your hand. her voice shakes. she checks your heart rate as robby works around them.