#i went nuts

“I thought we’d spoken about this.”

trinity’s fingers froze over the suture kit, wincing at the curt tone of baran’s voice slicing through the quiet of the trauma room.

“shit.”

“mhm.”

“I, uh, thought you’d have gone home by now.”

“no.” baran said evenly, though her voice simmered with anger. “abbot’s late on account of traffic so I’m just covering until he gets here. you can imagine my surprise as I prepare the hand-off to find an empty room not only being used by someone that isn’t on the board, but being used by my wife who’s trying to sneak around a suture kit without me noticing.”

trinity winced again. she didn’t need to turn around to know how her wife was looking at her. jaw set, arms folded, eyes disapproving. she wished then, briefly, that the ground would open up and swallow her whole.

“baran-“ she started.

“turn around.” baran said shortly. “let me see.”

trinity did as she was told. baran’s face fell.

“jesus.”

trinity had a dark bruise over one cheek, a large gash splitting the brow above her left eye, about three or four centimetres in length. she smiled, hoping it looked reassuring.

“okay, it’s not as bad as it looks, I promise. I was just sparring with crus and-“

“with crus?!” baran swore something under her breath in farsi, anger flickering over her features again. “jesus fucking christ, trinity.”

“hey, I’ve fought him before. it was just a slip, I feinted and he lunged for my left, he barely glanced me-“

“it doesn’t fucking matter!” baran said, suddenly a little sharper and louder than she meant to be. trinity could spy nurses glancing up from central. “that man is twice your size, you could’ve been hurt - you are hurt, oh my fucking god.”

“baran-“

“no, no, don’t baran me right now. we’ve spoken about this before. no more stupid decisions, no more mismatched fights, even when it’s just sparring. not after last time, not after-“ she cut herself off, glaring at trinity, her expression a mixture of hurt and anger. “you’re sneaking around my ed like a goddamn cat burglar. did you really think I wouldn’t find out?”

a muscle in trinity’s jaw flickered and the corners of her mouth tugged downwards.

“I was hoping if I could fix this,” she pointed to the cut in her brow, “you’d be less pissed at me when you saw.”

“uh-uh, right, and how’s that working out for you?”

“not great.”

trinity felt the guilt beginning to seep in as baran pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing deeply.

“I didn’t do it to hurt you.” she mumbled quietly.

“no,” baran said softly, defeated, giving her a knowing look. “you never do.”

that landed.

trinity looked away, ashamed.

baran was right. whenever she stepped into the ring, no matter who it was against, trinity fought for herself and for herself only. for her, fighting was life or death, the only way she felt really and truly alive.

for baran, it felt like losing a part of trinity every day. it felt like watching trinity give herself all the pain she thought she deserved.

with another sigh, she gestured for trinity to sit on the bed and dug out the suture kit.

“I’m sorry.” trinity mumbled as baran put a set of gloves on.

“I know you are.” baran muttered, threading the needle and preparing to push it through trinity’s skin. “but it won’t stop you doing it anyway.”

“I will one day. I’ll get too old and won’t be able to do it anymore. I’ll quit.”

baran only hummed, not meeting her eyes. there was an unbearable sadness in her being.