Jack loves his boys, but he wishes sometimes that they shared more of his interests. Robby never cared about sports, so Jack never bothered trying to get him to go to baseball or football games with him. He knew it would be a losing fight. Then, when they started dating Dennis, he was thinking that maybe the kid might be into sports given his boyish rural upbringing. Wrong. Dennis actively avoids watching any sports because his dad and his brothers used to stay up late screaming at old football reruns on the TV. So, that was out. There was a possibility the kid would be into his music. But he knew as soon as he saw Dennis rifling through their vinyl collection with a sour look on his face that that was not gonna fly either. The only ones he perked up at were some old obscure ones of Robby’s from the ‘80s. Maybe grunge really is dead. It doesn’t bother Jack, he still enjoys the things they all collectively enjoy, but there are things he has to save for when he’s alone or cut out entirely. He’s used to it, and the other two will never know. It’s okay.
Insert one Trinity Santos. Trinity Santos, butch femme fatale hiding-a-punk-in-there-somewhere repressed childhood number one draft pick. Over the course of their relationship with Dennis, Robby and Jack have sort of picked up Trin as some sort of stray, and they love it. They never say anything about it, just make her feel welcome and safe. One night, her and Dennis are having a sleepover in the guest room (Jack didn’t know adults still had those, and he’s a little jealous) when she pads out in her PJs and drops in the chair kitty corner to the couch. Jack is up watching the Pirates game from the previous day, one he’d recorded and already knew the final score of but wanted to see his team cream the other guys anyway. She doesn’t say anything. He wants to ask her what’s up, what’s keeping her from sleep, but he knows she’ll just shut down about it. She’ll talk about it if she wants to. In his dedication to not provoking her, he realizes the game’s been on for thirty minutes and he kicks himself for making her watch something so Jack.
But as he goes to turn something else on, she mumbles something as one of the players fumbles the baseball and misses out on a double play. Then it happens again on the very next at-bat, and she dramatically rolls her eyes and comments on the poor athleticism on the field. Come on, what the fuck was that. Pick up the fucking ball, idiot. Was she… watching the game? With intent? Trinity Santos likes baseball? Holy shit, Abbot, act natural. The game finishes, an astounding 14-3 victory over the Padres, and Trinity has a wide smile on her face.
Jack decides to nut up and be brave. “You like baseball?”
Trinity scoffs. “Of course I like baseball. Lesbian, hello.” Like it’s obvious. Duh, of course Trinity likes baseball, she likes women. Jack hadn’t considered that. Maybe it’s a new lesbian rule he doesn’t know about. Noted.
He laughs quietly. “Sorry, should have known. The boys don’t like to watch games with me so I usually have to hide out here to watch them when they’re asleep. Which sounds pathetic now that I say it out loud.” Geez, way to go, make it awkward.
To his surprise, Trinity doesn’t find it awkward. She laughs. She has a wide smile on her face, one Jack and Robby rarely get to see in earnest. “Yeah, Huck’s not one for ‘ball-sports’ as he calls them. He’s into horse racing, that’s about it. Little freak.”
“Really? Horses? I guess, farm boy, whatever. He probably likes the rodeo too.” Jack is joking, but from the look on Trin’s face, he’s absolutely right. “Huh. I guess it seems kind of obvious now that I think about it.” Yeah, the begging to see Jack ride the mechanical bull at their local Gregg’s seemed pretty honest.
To Jack’s utter surprise and delight, Trinity stays up for another hour or so, just shooting the shit with him and talking about the games she used to go to as a kid, and how she hasn’t been to one in years. She says she used to love going to see the Phillies play, but she can’t stand the team these days. And she’s a Patriots fan, which Jack finds questionable as a Panthers guy himself but he doesn’t dare say anything to deter her from sharing. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard her talk this much, especially not to him or Robby. It’s… nice. Like catching up with a friend you haven’t seen in a while. Jack mentions that he gets Pirates season tickets every year, and her face absolutely lights up.
After that, they come to some sort of silent understanding. They don’t talk about what drew Trinity from her sleep that night, but Jack starts bringing her with him when he does his guy stuff. They catch every home game they can manage between their schedules, which turns out to be quite a few. Jack definitely didn’t talk Robby into manhandling the schedule around to make that possible. Trinity mentions one time that she misses her gym membership and the definition it gave her, and Jack invites her to use their building’s extensive athletic facilities without hesitation. The girl can lift, Jesus Christ she might start to make Jack look bad. They have a group chat between the four of them, Jack, Robby, Dennis, and Trin, and the first time Trinity sends a mirror pic of her and Jack flexing their biceps together and making the most ridiculous faces, Dennis cries. He sobs into Robby’s neck about how happy he is to see his best friend doing things that make her happy without shame. He cries about Jack being the perfect male role model to someone who needed one a long time ago but didn’t get one. They don’t tell Jack or Trin about this incident. She even feels comfortable enough to drag Jack along with her to some local punk festival, which they’re all a little skeptical of since Pittfest, but they know they’ll be safe. Jack ensures his scary dog face is on the whole time, and he’s not afraid to use it. They have an amazing time.
When the holidays roll around, she’s a little surprised to be invited to the Abbot-Robinavitch Annual Conglomeration of Hanukkah and Christmas. She’s got about a week to get gifts in order, which is fine anyway because she’s a major procrastinator about that stuff. And Trinity doesn’t usually give a shit about gifts, giving or receiving, but she wants to do good this time. She feels like this is important somehow, like a rite of passage. Dennis assures her a hundred times it’s really not that serious, but she’s still nervous. She buys Robby some ridiculous bottle of Scotch that’s apparently his favorite, under the direction of Dennis. The kid himself gets a new pair of boots, nice leather ones from some hick brand she had to do extensive research about. Jack and Robby chipped in on these since they were almost four hundred fucking dollars, what the fuck. She waffles on what to get for Jack for a couple days, but ultimately decides to express order him a vintage Panthers jersey off the internet, belonging to one of his favorite players of all time from the ‘90s.
The shipping is outrageous, but it’s worth it to see the absolutely stunned look on his face when he opens it. To her sheer horror, he tears up almost immediately. She has never seen this man become emotional, and she’s seen him on some pretty shit shifts. She’s definitely never seen him cry. But he just wipes his cheeks, sniffles, and gives her a watery thanks, kiddo. Then he laughs, deep from his belly, and hands her the gift he’d gotten for her. She, too, feels a stinging in her eyes when she opens the box to reveal a set of merch from her favorite Pirates player. There’s a jersey, and a hat that’s signed, holy shit, and a dirty baseball. Jack explains that it’s a ball he caught from one of the first games he went to when he moved to the city.
Trinity sets her things aside and levels a very serious look at Jack. “Are you wearing your peg leg, old man?” Dennis and Robby both whip their heads towards Jack, terrified of how he’ll react. They rib him, too, but Trinity wouldn’t know how to be subtle or sensitive if someone paid her. But Jack just smiles and nods. “Cool, stand up.”
As soon as Jack is soundly standing on two feet, Trinity is tightly wrapping her hands around his middle, cheek pressed to his chest. He squeezes her just as tightly around the shoulders in return, even being so bold as to press a kiss to the top of her head. She doesn’t pull away for a good ten seconds, longer than she’d hugged anyone in, well, a really long time. Dennis thinks that maybe they both needed it.
Trinity lets go of him and says thank you so sincerely it’s not even undercut by the way she immediately follows it with, “Whatever. Fuck off.” They all laugh, and continue with their evening of gifts and food and drinks.
Trinity thinks that she’s never felt so much like she belongs somewhere. She’s never been afforded something so warm, or loving, or close to a family. She thinks, selfishly, that she hopes she can keep it.
They never plan to let her go, anyway. She’s in it, now.
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