Chapter Text
Emma wasn’t close with her father. Not really. He was around, more like an older brother than anything. She knew that he was her father, but her dad? That was a different story. Her grandmother took her in when she was an infant, born to two scared sixteen year old kids. She offered, wanting to give her the best life. Her mom’s parents weren’t supportive. So she was able to return to her childhood while Emma spent hers with Nana.
He was in and out, when she was really little he was around more. As she got older, he would stop in on holidays, maybe on the weekends sometimes. He made sure to stop by for the barbecues, bringing Crown Vanilla for his contribution. Not that he would share it— sitting at the card table with a Big Gulp cup and a thick glass bottle discarded at his feet, sticky brown liquid filling only half of the container.
Emma learned from a young age that he loved her, but he couldn’t ever be a father to her. His attention lies elsewhere, generally at the bottom of a bottle. She knew that it would catch up with him eventually.
She just didn’t think that eventually was now.
Her phone rang unexpectedly in her pocket, the only numbers set to ring through Do Not Disturb are Dennis, Trinity, and Nana. She looked up and watched the pair whisking around the emergency department with a sinking feeling in her chest. She knew that this call was different from the others. It’s as if the ringtone rang in a minor key, discordant and cacophonous. She excused herself, walking out of the trauma bay and down a long hallway which leads to a (usually) empty stairwell.
Her hands grew clammy and she pulled her phone out of her pocket as her thumb slid across the cool glass.
“Hey Nana!”
Her bright tone concealed the anxiety which laid below the surface, rocking back and forth on her heels. She quickly decided that this was not enough and started to pace up and down the length of the stairwell as her Nana’s voice filtered through her phone.
“Hey sugar. Now a good time?”
She can tell that she had been crying, the rawness in her voice told her exactly what this call was. Her stomach sank as tears involuntarily welled in her eyes.
“Yeah I’ve got some time, what’s going on?”
“Dorian uh. He’s gone, baby girl”
Her voice cracked as she tried to deliver the news, a confusing feeling bloomed in the pits of Emma’s stomach.
“What happened?”
Her voice was quiet, almost too quiet. Like the question wouldn’t leave her mouth, like the words were forced off of her tongue and sit in the air. A shaky inhale came from the other side of the phone, a deep breath before a response.
“His liver gave out. I’m sorry baby. We uh. We found out last night. We’re going to do the funeral this weekend. Are you able to come home? We’d love it if you could come back, it’s been so long since we’ve seen you anyways…”
Her stomach was in knots, a familiar acidity rose in her stomach, pressure pounded behind her chest. She leaned against the wall behind her and slid so she was sitting with her knees to her chest. The stinging of tears in her nose was overwhelming, the idea of going home was overwhelming. Everything was overwhelming.
“Can I bring Dennis?”
The words slipped out before she could stop them, before she even asked if he could make it. She could hear the amused noises of the older woman on the other line.
“Who’s this Dennis?”
“My.. My boyfriend, Nana. We’ve been together for a year.”
“A whole year and you didn’t think to tell me?!”
Her tone had switched from amused to betrayed, even a little scorned.
“I wanted to make sure he was good before I brought him around… Can I bring him?”
The lie was bitter on her tongue. She never planned on bringing him around, period. She never planned on introducing him to the family she grew up in. She had planned to leave them as a distant memory, guilt tugging at her heart every so often for not checking in more. She couldn’t do this without him, reality pulling her back in viciously.
She couldn’t run away. She was never able to escape, even states away.
“Well if you think he’s good, I think he’s great. When can you get in?”
“I’m not sure. I’m at work, I’ll ask my boss and I’ll talk to Dennis and see what we can figure out. Okay? I’ll text you when I’m off and I know more.”
She tisks, and sucked her teeth. She could picture the way her Nana was shaking her head to accompany the sound.
“Go save lives kid, Nana loves you.”
“Love you too.”
The line went silent, and she was suddenly aware of the dirty hospital floor that she sat on.She scrambled to her feet, brushed her thighs and glutes off before she walked out of the stairwell, nausea lying beneath her esophagus.
He was gone, and she can’t remember the last time they spoke.
He’s gone, and she can’t remember his laugh— a distant memory from years ago which has faded over time. Worn and secretly loved.
He’s gone, and she never got to say goodbye.
He’s gone.
She retreated into her mind, eyes vacant as she navigated through her shift, her usual smile plastered on her face. She pushed the bruise, he’s gone— investigating.
They weren’t close. He wasn’t there for her. A piece of her felt displaced, a crack in her identity. If she could ignore it, it would go away.
And now he’s gone.
A hand on her back causes her to jump, spinning around with a wide and vacant stare. Her eyes land on Dennis, confusion and worry painting his expression.
“Hey, are you okay? Did I scare you?”
She nods, offering a tight smile which doesn’t reach her eyes.
“Yeah, scared me is all. What’s up?”
“You just seem off. I wanted to check on you”
His voice was low, his eyes demanding. He attempted to pull the truth out through insistent eye contact, noticing the vacant expression that she returns to him.
“I’m fine. We’ll talk later, okay?”
Her hand found his and squeezed three times. I. Love. You.
He smiles softly and squeezed three times back, dropping her hand. As he walked away to tend to one of his patients, she turned and tasked her brain with counting the minutes until she could go home. Home. Right.
She found Dana at the nursing station and cleared her throat as she approached her.
“Hey Dana, could I talk to you?”
Her blonde ponytail swished around, her tired yet kind eyes met Emma’s vacant ones, her face instantly morphed to hold concern. A hand firmly placed on her upper arm as she nods, ushering her into a back hallway where they can speak in private. Leading right back to the stairwell she found earlier.
“What is up with you kid? You look horrible.”
“I need help finding coverage for this Thursday, through the weekend.”
Dana lets out a chuckle of an exhale, nodding. Emma was the one she would call in, the one that took on extra when no one else did.
“Tough ask. What’s goin on?”
Emma chews on her lower lip, nodding slowly. The words foreign on her tongue, astringent.
“My dad died. I need to go to St. Louis for his funeral. My family wants me to stay for the weekend. I was just trying to see if I could get something figured out.”
She doesn’t even recognize the tears that are falling down her cheeks, dripping onto her scrub top. She simply blinks, waiting for the older woman to respond.
She doesn’t. Instead, arms are wrapped around her which is a little jarring since it’s Dana. Dana wasn’t a hugger, but the crushing pressure holding her is nice. Comforting. Reminds her of when she was little, running outside and tripping over a shoelace. Running to her Nana, climbing in her lap, her arms wrapping around her back and bouncing her.
“I’ll take care of it. We’re you close?”
She sniffles, pulling away from the contact and wiping stubbornly at her eyes.
“Not at all, actually. Thank you. I’m going to go back, gonna go check on. Uh. Mr. Gregerson, in South 4.”
“You know you can go home, right kid?”
“Nice try, D.”
She threw the dismissal over her shoulder and walked away, pushing through the doors. The quiet hallway is almost too silent, she craved the buzz of the ED, the ringing of alarms and chatter of doctors makes it nearly impossible to think. Impossible to feel.
“Emma!”
Dennis called out behind her, and dread filled her chest. She just wanted to get through the next three hours. The last three hours. Before she could go, they could go. They could go home and she could get in the shower. She could get in the shower, and then get in bed and she could finally get through this day. She whipped her head faster than she intended to.
“What?!”
His initial expression was confusion mixed with hurt, though his face softened once he saw the exhaustion etched into her face.
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing. Just. On a mission. What’s up?”
“Nothing… I just… You’re off today and I wanted to check on you. You don’t look like you’re here. You look distant.”
“Well. I’m fine, I’ve got to go. Patient. See you in the tunnel.”
His lips pursed into a tight line and nodded, looking at her as she turned and hurried in the opposite direction, her head turned to the floor.
“The tunnel. Yeah.”
She felt guilty, pushing him away. Snapping at him, gnashing her teeth as he simply tried to let himself in. Her cheeks ached by the end of the shift, the conscious effort to wear her smile. It was her armor, hiding behind dimples and perfectly whitened teeth. Softness disguised her anger which lies deep in her bones. Aching with storms, begging to be expelled, to be experienced.
She needed to run. Far away from the knots tying together in her stomach, each loop of her small intestine turning, pulling through the large. Her organs are one jumbled mess, heart on her sleeve, stomach in her chest, her logic no longer able to force the grief away.
She has been grieving him for far longer than he’s been dead. She grieved him at every father-daughter event. Every time her brothers would pick on her and Nana wouldn’t do anything because boys will be boys, my girl. Best learn that early. She grieved him when she pictured her wedding— Dennis standing at the foot of the aisle in a gorgeous suit, maybe a dark green one to bring out his eyes; her, alone down the aisle.
She grieved him every time she was reminded that her father would rather do anything than choose her. Every time he would show up to family events, she would try. Desperately for his affection— only to be met with a gruff go play with the kids.
She buried the grief after the first time her no was ignored. Her first boyfriend, ninth grade. She was fourteen, he was seventeen. Her older brother’s best friend. She realized then that no one would protect her, especially not Dorian. Especially not her brothers.
Grief bubbled to anger, and anger bubbled to bitterness. She decided years ago that it was easier to smile, to see the good, than to live with the bad. Out of sight, out of mind.
Except she can’t push it out anymore. It demanded to be felt. Demanded in the way that her pulse quickened at each request from her. Demanded with the way she blew past Trinity, unable to hide the emotions which unraveled within her. She knew that she wouldn’t let her push her away, snarking right back. She didn’t have time for that. She didn’t have time to acknowledge this.
She pushed the bruise once more as blood pooled under her thumb.
He’s gone— and he was never there to begin with.
—
Seven rolled around and she changed in the locker room before she made her way to the tunnel. The nickname they gave to the hallway which led out of the building, Trinity and Dennis were already waiting for her, leaning against the wall as they talked amongst each other. The worried look they shared did not go unnoticed as they moved to either side of her, the surrounding presence was overwhelming. They would walk home, only fifteen minutes from the hospital, the spring air warm against their skin. Once they had distanced themselves from the hospital, Dennis broke the silence Emma held.
“So. What’s going on? You looked like you were on a different planet all day, you kept disappearing, and you’ve been snappy. What’s going on? How can I help?”
“I’m fine. I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m probably just tired. You know, doing all the work y’all don’t have to do.”
He snorted and looked over at her wildly, his eyebrow quirked up in confusion.
“What the hell did I do to you?”
“Nothing! Oh my God. Nothing Dennis! You didn’t do anything. Fuck.”
She quickened her pace, creating just a few feet of distance between the remaining two. Trinity looked over at Dennis and shook her head, a wild expression on her face.
“It seems like I did!”
His voice carried louder than it should, offended at the anger he was being met with. Trinity sighs as Emma turned around, tears apparent in her eyes even from feet away.
“My dad died. Happy?! Just drop it. You’re not being fucking helpful.”
The air between them grew thick despite being outdoors, as if the oxygen in all of Pittsburgh had been sucked out through the sewage drains. She angrily stormed ahead, closing the last blocks until the apartment alone. Trinity took in a deep breath and nodded at Dennis, trying to find the words to say.
“I’ve never even heard about her dad.”
His voice breaks the silence that had fallen between them, neither sure of how to continue as they walked the remaining few blocks.
“I’m sure there’s reason for that”
Trinity’s voice was firm, knowing. She recognized the anxiety which was disguised as anger, the way her entire body was tense. The way she was pushing everyone away. The vacant stare she had worn all day.
She knew it was much deeper than a missed detail, and she also knew that Dennis was going to push himself further out if he didn’t give that girl some space.
“I just want her to-”
“I think she just needs you to leave her the hell alone right now Huckleberry. Unfortunately you can’t bring him back. Just be there when she needs you.”
“She needs me now.”
“She doesn’t know that yet. Just, wait for her. Be there for her. Run a bath, cook her dinner, just be there for her without the expectation of talking about it. Just show her she has someone.”
“She has me. She has us.”
“I know, but she needs to know. Show, don’t tell.”
He sighs, nodding as he bounds up the stairs to their unit, Emma already in the shower by the time he arrived. Trinity starts on dinner, Pancit with chicken. The comforting noodles frying in the oil and garlic which she had thrown into a pan. Dennis took to pouring up three glasses of wine and setting their table quickly so he could pick pajamas out for Emma. He laid the clothing in a neat pile on the bed with a pair of fuzzy socks.
He peeks his head into the bathroom, hearing the shower still running. The steam hit him first, the quiet sounds of her sobs followed.
“Trin is making Pancit with chicken and I have PJs on the bed for you. I love you sweetheart.”
She sniffles loudly, a hiccup escaping her throat.
“Love y-you. Be out s-suh-soon.”
His heart clenched at the way she stuttered, remembering the way she held him as he cried. Ugly and snotty tears into her shirt. He pushed the door open and sat on the toilet with the lid shut, her cries filling the enclosed space.
“You don’t have to talk, but you can’t push me out. It’s not fair, we don’t do that.”
“You don’t g-get it.”
“I don’t, but I never will if you don’t let me in. Doesn’t have to be tonight. Doesn’t have to be tomorrow. But you can’t blow up on me for loving you. It’s not gonna do anything besides make me feel bad in the moment. It’s not going to change how much I love you. You aren’t allowed to do things alone anymore, unfortunately.”
The only sounds are the shower head and her sniffles. He can hear her trying to come up with a rebuttal but failing to do so. Eventually the water shuts off and he hands her the worn pink towel that she moved in.
“Thank you”
Her voice is barely a whisper, her eyes pooling with tears as she looked at him. Broken, the sugary sweet exterior melted away and replaced with a much more real, much more tired version.
He greets her with a nod of his head and a kiss on the forehead.
“Meet you at the table?”
“Yeah, I can already smell it. Tell her thank you, for getting it ready while I showered.”
He nods, allowing her to leave the room first. He turned down the hallway to the kitchen, following the aroma of pan seared chicken, vegetables, and noodles.
“Thanks, Trin.”
“Anytime Bub, anytime.”
She moves through the hallway, into the bedroom. Her limbs felt heavy, the day weighing on her bones. She slid into the worn and comfy clothes that hung too big on her, smelling the laundry detergent that Dennis enjoyed using. By the time she arrived at the table, the food was sitting in the middle— Trinity bringing over tongs for the dish.
“Smells good”
Emma offered a tired smile, desperate to regain some semblance of control over her night.
“Thanks, Em. What was up with all of the MVA’s today? It’s like they were playing a city-wide game of fucking bumper cars”
Trinity’s tone holds no pity, simply dry humor which was relieving to the other woman’s ears. Something that was normal.
Grounding.
“Tell me about it. It’s like every five seconds they’re wheeling in another one.”
Emma’s voice matched Trinity’s, a small smile played on her cheeks. Warm food was shoveled into her mouth as they banter back and forth, Dennis chiming in occasionally— reserving his energy for watching Emma for any sign that she may break. It did not go unnoticed. Towards the end of the meal she cut him a glare from the side of her eye, catching his eye contact.
“What?”
His tone was defensive, shooting her a confused glance.
“Why’re you staring at me like I’m going to break? What yourself.”
Trinity mimicked a cat yowling and dragged her hand through the air, which caused Emma to roll her eyes and focus back on Dennis.
“Because you’re obviously not okay and it’s concerning. I know you don’t want to talk but-”
“I don’t need to talk, Den. Just, I’m ready for bed. Thank you for dinner Trinity, Love ya, night guys.”
She walked to the kitchen, scraping the remainder of her plate and rinsing it. Doing the best that she could to appear normal. To play tired instead of broken. How could she talk about something she couldn’t begin to even understand.
On her way to the bedroom, she dropped a kiss to his head which tilted up to meet her gaze.
“I’ll come in there soon, okay?”
“You’re good, I’ll probably be asleep. Long shift, you know, you were there.”
The tired smile she wore was worn thin, no longer masking the anguish which lies beneath the surface, churning— demanding to be felt.
She didn’t understand why she was so upset. Why a piece of her felt like it was missing. How she could feel like a piece was missing when the piece was never there to begin with.
Maybe it was the hope. The hope of a little girl, eagerly waiting by the window because daddy said we were gonna go to the zoo today. The hope of a little girl who would bring a basketball to him, asking him to teach her. To play with her in a language he liked to speak, often wearing a Bulls flat bill on his head. The hope of a little girl who was still waiting for him to choose her.
The hope died with him. The finality of the truth weighed heavily, causing her eyes to sting with tears once again. She was utterly tired of crying, tired of missing a man who never missed her.
But she never got to say goodbye.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft rapping on the door, Trinity’s head peeking into the room.
“Can I come in?”
She sat up, tucking her knees into her chest as she took a deep breath, tears trickling down her cheeks, falling on the thin fabric of her sleep shirt.
“Yeah, sure, come on in.”
Trinity pads over to the bed, sitting close enough to Emma to show that she cared, but far enough to respect her very obvious desire for space. To hide. Runaway from the people who would see directly through to the little girl waiting by the window. Or the little girl hiding in the closet, angry footsteps ricocheting above her head. It was a feeling that Trinity knew all too well.
“Were you guys close?”
She shakes her head, sniffling as fat tear drops began to fall. Pouring from her eyes without her consent.
“Want to tell me about him?”
“Not really. Don’t want to talk about it.”
Her voice was tight with emotion, squeezing her vocal chords which raised the pitch. Trinity’s eyes flashed with pity before they settled neutral again, a hand resting on Emma’s knee.
“Don’t have to. Not right now. When do you have to leave for the funeral?”
“Thursday. So uhm two days from now? I need Dennis to come with me, I can’t go back alone.”
“I’m sure he’d be willing to do that Bows. I think he’d do anything you asked him to.. Disgustingly enough.”
Emma rolled her eyes with a soft smile on her lips as she shoved Trinity’s shoulder playfully.
“It’s adorable and you know it”
“It’s absolutely adorable, but I can’t let him know that or else he will become a Fuckleberry and I don’t like dealing with Fuckleberry.”
“Fuckleberry is amazing, one day I’ll have to steal that”
A soft snort escapes from her nose, the tears that once dripped down her cheeks dried in salty lines down her smooth skin.
“You better. I just wanted to check on you, I’ll leave you be.”
“You don’t have to.”
Her tone was urgent before she took a breath, swallowing heavily. Their pinkies were linked, and her eyes were searching for connection, silently crying out for support.
“I won’t if you ask me to stay.. But I’m gonna get Dennis because he told me to when you weren’t upset anymore. I already told him that he should just sit there and shut up, but I think that about all men so…”
She wanted nothing more than his arms to be wrapped around her waist, holding her into his firm torso, the strength of his biceps grounding her. She didn’t want Trinity to leave though, she understood her differently than Dennis could. This also confused her, how someone could be so close to her without a spark. She understood her thoughts, before she ever thought them.
If she believed in soulmates, she would believe that Trinity is one of hers. She didn’t love her the same way she loved Dennis, but she loved her deeper than she has loved anyone else before. She needed them both. She wanted to be alone.
She needed to be with them.
She offered a firm smile, nodding her head and letting Trinity’s pinky go. Her voice was meek, full of nerves.
“Can you get him, but not leave either? I don’t know what will make it better but you guys seem to make most everything better.. so.”
Emma swore she saw Trinity smile with her teeth. But her eyes were still watery and low from exhaustion so she overlooked this hallucination. The emptiness of the room sucked her in, the vortex pulling her back into her dark hole. She stared at the door, waiting for the crack of light to shine through.
To be pulled back into her reality.
Soon enough the door opens and the oxygen rushes back into her lungs. The suffocation that weighed on her chest fled. Dennis’ tired face meets hers, Trinity tailing behind him.
“Hey love, are you ready for bed?”
She nods, scooting to the center of the bed, curled in a ball. The smaller she felt, the better it was. The better she was. He slid behind her, his arms comfortably wrapping around her waist, steadying her. Pulling her out of the vortex, releasing the dark grip it had on her.
Trinity sits on the edge of the bed, one knee resting on the mattress and one foot on the floor. Awkward, desperate to not push her back over the edge. Emma reaches a hand out, linking their pinkies together again. The cold hand ground her further, forcing her to become present. Eventually, she slides further into the bed, facing Emma and Dennis.
They sit in silence, holding each her for as long as she needs, not daring to break the stillness. Emma holds Trinity’s arm, being held by Dennis.
“The funeral is on Friday, I don’t want to go. I need to go. Will… will you go with me Den?”
“Of course sweetheart, anything you need. Just let me know what days and I’ll tell Robby.”
“I’ll cover what you need”
Trinity’s voice chimes in, sleep evident in her voice. Emma nods, rubbing her thumb up and down on the other woman’s arm nervously, trying to soothe herself. Sleep demanded her, emotions pulling her past sleep— ignoring the anxiety which was fermenting in her stomach, growing sour with each hour that passed closer to the funeral. Closer to the flight which she hadn’t booked, closer to the arguments that she hasn’t had, closer to being back at a place that no longer felt like home.
“Thanks you guys. I don’t know what I would do without you. How I could do any of this without you. Without either of you.”
“You don’t have to, Bows.”
“Ever, my love.”
She nods, ignoring the churning in her stomach, relaxing into their touch.
Love was complicated in every aspect. How she loved her father despite his absence. How she loved her family despite their dysfunction. How all that she could feel right now was love and how that was enough to balance the acidity which rested in her esophagus. Love which soothed her to a restful sleep between the two.