Chapter Text
Dennis scrambled for his phone, nearly dropping the vibrating device in the freshly brewed mug of coffee he'd been fetching. "Trinity? Is everything okay?"
"You want mechado for dinner?" Trinity's voice drawled through the tinny speaker.
"Jesus, I thought it was something important." Dennis pressed a hand over his chest, blowing a deep breath to calm his racing heart. "I'm at work."
Trinity snickered. "I know."
Dennis scowled at nothing. "I thought we agreed to only call in emergencies? This could've been a text."
"It was. Three. I need to know if you want, otherwise I'm not making extra."
You always make extra, Dennis wanted to retort. Instead, he nodded, despite the fact that his roommate couldn't see him. "Yeah, yeah, I'd love some."
"Great." Trinity heaved a sigh. "Robby eat you alive yet?" a smirk was audible in her voice, "not that you'd mind."
Dennis' cheeks flamed. He hid his face in his free hand. "I never should've told you about that." He grumbled.
"Hindsight's twenty-twenty." Trinity answered in sing-song. "Are you slacking right now?"
"No!" Dennis protested. "I'm taking a break. Dana told me to get Robby a coffee."
"Oh so you're his errand boy now? What does he give you in return?" Trinity teased, "a big ol' kiss on the forehead?"
"Stop." Dennis hissed. "It's not like that. It's been a tough shift on all of us."
"You okay?" Trinity sobered instantly.
One of these days, Dennis was gonna record their phone calls and show Victoria to prove that Trinity actually did care. Today was not that day. He sighed, his shoulders sinking again under the weight of the day. "Yeah, I mean, it's just been shitty. Bad case after bad case, and, well, you know how it is."
"Yeah." Trinity sounded subdued now.
"And, you know, feels like we can't save anyone, and there was this kid earlier," Dennis wiped at his eyes. He never was ashamed to cry, even though his brothers had called him every name under the sun for it. Sissy, baby, girl, you name it. He'd learned to brush it off. Somehow, he'd managed to turn out the least emotionally stunted person in his family. Funny how that works. "Clear case of abuse, right— unexplained bruises, frequent flyer, overbearing parents… well, we couldn't—" here, he actually choked off, breath stuttering in his chest.
Trinity just waited.
"We had to send her home." Dennis managed finally, clearing his throat. He stared at the rapidly cooling coffee on the table in front of him, a reminder to get back out on the floor.
"Well that fucking sucks." Trinity proclaimed. "I can make it look like an accident, you know. If you get me his info."
That startled a laugh out of Dennis. "What happened to do no harm?" he teased, the crushing sensation in his shoulders starting to unwind.
"Well, I'd argue that I'm helping." She answered haughtily, "getting rid of a child abuser is a blessing, if you ask me."
"Of course you'd say that." Dennis rolled his eyes.
"And I’ll say it again!" She was grinning now, he could hear it in her voice.
Dennis rolled his eyes, though he could feel his own lips stretching to match. "Besides, it’d be a HIPAA violation." Something about talking to Trinity did that to him, calmed him instantly. the ease of it, even when it wasn’t easy, just settled between his ribs like a field mouse in a nest. Small, comfortable. Living there like it belonged. Maybe it did. Dennis couldn’t remember the last time he’d spoken to his mother and had that feeling.
"Your haircut is a HIPAA violation." Trinity countered, so quick that his jaw dropped open.
"What?" Dennis ran his fingers through his short curls self-consciously. "You said you liked it!"
"You have no proof of that."
"Yeah, ‘cause I’m not a psycho! Who records their conversations?" Dennis threw his free hand in the air exasperatedly. He could only imagine the smug look on his roommate’s face. "You’re such a freak."
"Relax, Huckleberry, I’m kidding." Trinity laughed into the microphone. "You should get back to work, you slacker."
"Yeah, I know." Dennis heaved a sigh, the levity dissipating far too quickly. "I’ll see you later."
"Text when you’re leaving, okay?"
"So you can eat all the mechado before I get there?" Dennis stood, reaching with his free hand for the now-lukewarm cup of coffee.
"With that attitude, I might not make you any!" Trinity retorted.
Dennis laughed. He dumped out the coffee, rinsing the cup and reaching to refill it. "I’m kidding. I’ll text."
"Yeah, you better." Trinity mumbled.
Dennis stared at the fresh coffee, not wanting to let the conversation finish. "Thanks for calling."
"Yeah, whatever. Don’t let it go to your head, Fuckleberry."
Dennis smiled at the nickname. It’d rather grown on him, despite grumpy way Trinity tended to use it.
"I can hear you making that stupid face." Trinity grumbled. "Get back to work."
Dennis intended to make a joke, or teasing her back, or something. Instead, he opened his mouth and answered, "see you tonight, I guess. Love you."
The world narrowed into that one tiny, tense moment. Dennis counted three, four, five beats of his heart. "Trin, I—"
The brusque ring of the dial tone interrupted him.
"I didn’t mean it.” Dennis finished in a murmur, even though that was a lie. He wanted to say that it was just habit, but that would be a lie, too. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d said those words to anyone. Not even his mother.
Dennis pulled the phone away from his ear and sighed, dropping it back into his pocket. He collected the coffee from the counter and headed back out onto the floor, hoping that Trinity wouldn’t make it a thing.