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capyclara · 11 days ago

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wouldn't it be nice (to play the game without a crooked die)

summary: dennis whitaker character study, from the eyes of trinity santos rating: teen wc: 2k

There’s something fucking weird about Huckleberry.

Not in the same was there was something fucking weird about Langdon. At least… Trinity doesn’t think so.

And it’s not that she doesn’t like him! Really! She likes him a lot! He’s not bad, for a dude; Trinity likes that he’s unobtrusive and mostly quiet, that he listens and he goes out of his way to really help people. He’s been doing the outreach program thing with McKay and Kiara, which Trinity thinks is very fucking cool and very compassionate of him.

But still. There’s something fucking weird about the guy that Trinity still cannot put her finger on after living with him for a month, and it is driving her nuts.

She doesn’t usually have this problem. She’s kind of notorious for being able to pick up on people’s secrets and idiosyncrasies. She would have figured out McKay was on house arrest with a quickness if she’d spent more time with her that first day, Trinity is absolutely certain of it. She figured out Langdon’s thing with the pills and Javadi’s nepo baby roots, and she clocked Mel’s autism and Garcia’s girl-kissing tendencies within moments of meeting them.

At first, Trinity thought she’d had him pegged with the whole Huckleberry schtick. Yes, he’s a country bumpkin who grew up in the sticks going to church multiple times a week. Yes, he was an unhoused med student squatting at the hospital. But there’s something else in there. Every time she thinks she’s getting close to cracking him open like an egg, the tower of cards topples over again and she’s left reeling.

She just can’t see him. And that, more than anything, is fucking weird.

He’s not an addict or an alcoholic. He’s not hiding a secret girlfriend or boyfriend or sick family member. He’s not a cop. He has a secret and Trinity can fucking smell it on him, but for her life she cannot figure it out.

“What the fuck is your deal, Huckleberry?” she finally asks him, breaking at long last one Saturday night when they get home from a miraculously easy shift.

Trinity is sitting on the couch, Huckleberry coming to join her as he tosses her a can of beer from their shared fridge. His hair is still damp from the shower, his slippers making little shuffling noises as he moves across the linoleum toward their small shared living room.

“What do you mean?” He looks like a spooked stray, backed into a corner with a slip lead. Trinity frowns; she thought he’d stopped looking at her like that.

She scoffs and rolls her eyes, kicking her feet up casually on the ottoman in front of the couch to show him she’s not a threat. In a way that says this is friendly — this is banter.

“I mean I can’t figure you out. Langdon’s got his pills, McKay’s got her ankle monitor, Robby’s a basketcase and he’s got history with Collins, Mel’s on the spectrum, Crash is nepo baby supreme -”

“She doesn’t like it when you call her that,” Huckleberry cuts in to remind her.

Trinity waves a hand as if shooing a bug away, and gets back to the conversation at hand, staring at him pointedly and asking, “What… about… you?”

This part she says slowly, deliberately. She still wants Huckleberry to know that she’ll get his number eventually, even if he doesn’t tell her. Trinity is out of her element for once. She’s free falling here, finally admitting to herself that she doesn’t have the upperhand this time. With him, of all people — Trinity does not have the upperhand.

“You figured me out already, didn’t you? I was living in the hospital. Poor, sad, wet cat of a med student, down on my luck and homeless.”

Trinity narrows her eyes at him.

“It’s tattoos, isn’t it? You’re hiding a whole… leg sleeve, or whatever. Or —” Trinity gasps dramatically. “It’s a dick piercing! You have a whole Jacob’s Ladder situation in your boxers, don’t you?”

“Oh, yeah, that’s totally it.”

He smiles, and to her it looks smug and satisfied, like he just got one over on her. Which is better than the kicked puppy expression from before, but not by a whole lot. This one is endlessly more annoying. He’s barely even trying to hide it, grinning around his long slow drag on the can of beer in his hand as he reaches for the remote.

He’s much more relaxed now, melting back into the couch. The conversation is over, apparently, as Huckleberry turns on the TV and their little shared living room fills with the sounds of whatever silly show her roommate is deep diving this week.

— — —

Huckleberry doesn’t have any friends.

That’s not his secret, just an observation. He doesn’t have any friends and he doesn’t seem all too invested in making any either. He’s kind of a loner. Not in the creepy, school shooter kind of way. More like… in the monk kind of way. He reads a lot, and he does go on TV deep dives. He likes documentaries and procedurals. When he’s tired he likes sitcoms.

He reads a lot. He reads those… dark romance fantasy books with the titillating cover art and titles like A Kingdom of Ravens and Razorblades or some other shit that makes Trinity nostalgic for her high school goth phase. He pretends to not notice when she borrows his books, which is sweet of him.

Trinity took him to a stand up comedy club a few weeks after they started living together, and she discovered he likes female comedians. He likes lesbian comedians.

Huckleberry likes craft beer and dislikes red meat that isn’t smashed into a patty shape, shoved between a pair of buns and loaded with veggies, cheese, and condiments. Trinity’s refrigerator is a rainbow of fresh fruits and vegetables for the first time since she moved away from home.

He drinks his coffee black. Which, of course, is serial killer behavior.

Trinity is pretty sure Huckleberry is not a serial killer.

Huckleberry does not call or visit his family. He talks about them like they’re ghosts; Trinity knows they’re not dead, just not a part of his life anymore. He doesn’t talk about them often, never refers to the place he grew up as back home the way Trinity does. He uses phrases like before and back on the farm and when my mom and I still got along. Trinity thinks they’re a piece of the puzzle of Huckleberry that she has been trying to figure out.

He does not go to church, but he can quote The Bible verbatim at the drop of a hat. He always looks fucking exhausted. Trinity is pretty sure he suffers from insomnia — how else is he reading all those fucking books?

He’s terrible at video games but a terrific teammate to have during trivia night at the dive bar. He always beats Trinity’s ass at pool.

It’s taking every ounce of willpower in Trinity’s body to not snoop through his room for secrets. She won’t, because that’s such a fucked up invasion of privacy, and her dad read her diary when she was fourteen; she would never inflict that kind of betrayal on someone she cares about.

Trinity cares about Huckleberry. She cares about him in a way she hasn’t cared about a friend in a long time.

The longer they live and work together, the closer they become. They become friends. By their third and final month together in the ER before Huckleberry starts his next rotation, they can practically read each other’s minds. They stick together whenever they can, because he doesn’t take anything she says personally and she feels comfortable giving him credit and letting him take the lead sometimes.

Garcia comments on their rapport more than once. Huckleberry notices the gravitational pull that is Garcia and Santos. He only picks on her a little bit about it, and only ever in the privacy of their shared home.

“Garcia asked me about you today,” he tells her one night, apropos of nothing as she cuts her sandwich into little triangles like her mom used to do for her.

“Oh yeah?” She brings her plate into the living room and sits down in her usual spot.

“She asked what our deal is. She grills people in the exact same way that you do.”

“Ha ha,” Trinity says, injecting just the right amount of sarcasm to make Huckleberry smile.

“I told her we’re roommates and good friends. She seemed to be satisfied with that. I think she likes you…” this last part he says in a teasing sort of singsong, with a suggestive waggle of his translucent brows.

Trinity kicks him.

“Give it time,” she says. “I’ll woo her into my bed and kick you out for the weekend.”

“Just let me know when you’re ready to rent the U-Haul.”

She laughs sarcastically again, feeling just a little awkward now that her crush is well and truly out in the open. She thought she’d been doing a decent job at hiding it.

They lapse into a comfortable silence; Trinity scrolls through her Instagram feed as she eats, the TV narrating Huckleberry’s latest documentary undertaking — some guy smuggling North Korean refugees across the border and away from fascism.

“I��m trans.”

He says it like it's been burning a hole through him, and the puzzle of Dennis Whitaker slots together, just as simple as that.

Slowly, with a mouthful of salami, provolone, and mustard, Trinity nods.

“I’m glad I didn’t figure it out on my own. Thanks for trusting me.”

He barks out a nervous little laugh. “That’s it? No invasive questions, no gloating about how you’d get to the bottom of it eventually?”

“No, man… this one’s not a gotcha. I know it’s not exactly something you’re supposed to say to your trans friends, but genuinely — I never would have guessed.”

“That is not offensive to me, believe me,” Huckleberry says with a heavy sigh. “I’ve been stealth since, like… my third year of undergrad? Changed my name to Dennis and never looked back. I am kind of surprised that you didn’t jump straight to the surgery questions.”

Internally, Trinity is bouncing on the balls of her feet. She wants to ask — dying to know the details, actually. She’s had her eye on all things surgical for a hot minute, and she’s been playing with the idea of applying for an emergency surgery or plastics residency for a little while now, so yeah… she wants to ask.

Huckleberry sighs again — amicably this time — and smiles in Trinity’s direction.

“I got peri-keyhole top surgery a year and a half ago, right here at our hospital. A single chart search of my name would have told you everything.”

Through a mouthful of sandwich, Trinity does her best to tsk at him. “That’s a HIPAA violation — what do you take me for?”

“Thanks for not snooping.”

“How do you know I didn't?”

Huckleberry huffs a little. “My testosterone vials and syringes are sitting in a basket on my nightstand.”

Trinity’s laugh is so loud it takes even her by surprise. “You weren’t even trying to hide it?”

“Not really,” he admits. “Not here. Not with you.”

Trinity has to physically stop herself from putting her hand to her chest. He really is just so sweet. It’s quiet again after that; it’s not awkward, just thoughtful, and Trinity finds herself feeling a little sad at the thought that Huckleberry is going to be leaving her all alone in emergency in just a few short weeks to go to his next rotation.

“So, Huckleberry,” she sighs, “where ya headed after emergency?”

“Pediatrics. But that’s my last rotation, and then I’m coming back to emergency to do my internship.”

“Awww, you gonna miss me?”

“Nah, not too much,” he says. “Hanging out with kids all day won’t be that much different than hanging out with you.”

Trinity kicks him, and the two of them laugh good naturedly. The truth is, Trinity is going to miss him. Sure, he’ll still be here, in her home at the end of a long shift. And they will keep going out to the comedy club and trivia night at the bar, and he will continue to be her wingman with Garcia, and she will keep his secret.

There’s something special about a mean lesbian and her golden retriever trans guy. Jesus. They're a stereotype now. A fiction trope. Terrific.

As the companionable silence settles over their living room, Trinity remembers with humiliation, “Oh my god, I assumed you had a dick piercing.”

Huckleberry snorts. “Oh, yeah, I was riding that gender euphoria high for days.”

title taken from concrete jungle by bad omens tagged because you both asked me to, even tho I know neither of you go here: @dangerous-disposition @patchworkgargoyle

#so so sweet #pitbull bloodhound besties #the pitt #dennis whitaker #trinity santos #fic

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capyclara · 15 days ago

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The Pitt Crew and their Preferred YouTube Rabbit Hole

Robby: Those survivalist dudes building homes off the grid. Also vintage watch collecting videos. It’s a hobby born from being Dr Adamsons mentee. He has a very small but unique collection.

Collins: Leather handbag refurbishing. She is a vintage bag enthusiast and enjoys watching the slow craftsmanship.

Langdon: He has two under four so he has watched every Ms Rachel video under the sun (his wife strictly prohibits cocomelon but he has caved a couple of times so he could have some peace). On his own, he is watching medical videos cause it’s easier for him to process than just reading journals.

Mel: She is a Trixie Mattel stan. She has watched every Unnnh video and jumps to watch every new Queens Who Like to Watch video that drops. She and her sister love watching Defunctland videos together.

Dana: Live concert footage from 80s/90s artists. She loves reading the sweet comments of people sharing stories about the song being their wedding dance or their passed lovers favorite song. She will share them on facebook with her own stories about seeing Springsteen with her sisters in 88.

Santos: She has the most chaotic Youtube Homepage of anyone at the Pitt. It’s MMA videos, video essays that just recap whole TV shows verbatim that are 6 hours long, music videos from queer artists and knife sharpening videos. Whitaker doesn’t understand a single thing thats going on.

Whitaker: Since moving in with Santos and wanting to earn his keep he has been watching all those internet dad teaches you how to unclog a sink/caulk a tub/fix your fridge videos. Other than that he loves watching soul train performances, npr tiny desks and music history video essays.

Javadi: She watches all the study influencers and has BIG opinions on who is legit and who is a phony looking for a cash grab. She also watches a bunch of lifestyle vloggers to lowkey live vicariously through. She loves Emma Chamberlain and her Paris vlogs.

Mohan: (sry this is so sad) She watches ASMR Hair Brushing/Massage videos to go to bed. She has a hard time falling asleep especially after an adrenaline filled shift. She watched one as a joke but it instantly relaxed and made her think about how her dad used to brush and oil her hair before bed when her mom worked late. (Not sad) Perfume influencers especially ones that focus on indie fragrances.

McKay: She’s watching Mr Beast with her son. She holds no opinion on him.

Abbot: he only watches videos people send him. Samira sent him a Ted Talk hosted by a journal author they were talking about. His therapist recommends guided meditation videos to help with his PTSD but he got bored and stumbled onto those dancing fruit videos for toddlers. He unironically loves them.

Ellis: She plays DJ sets (Chicago House/Louisiana Bounce/etc) while she cleans her apartment. She has few Loc influencers that she follows to find ways to make her wash days shorter and find new hairstyles.

Shen: He is a Dropout Subscriber. But he will still watch the old collegehumor sketches. If he’s feeling nostalgic he’ll marathon lonely island, BriTaNick and good neighbor videos.

Mateo: He is mainlining the most insane Youtube shorts.

Walsh: She ironically loves the dancing fruit videos for toddlers.

Garcia: old clips from the L Word. And she gets into fights in the comments.

Princess: recap podcasts for dating reality shows like Love Island/Bachelor/Love is Blind. The long shifts make it hard to watch every show but she needs to know the tea.

Perlah: She uses Youtube as her gym. Her house is chaos with her kids and pets but she will do her daily Chloe Ting workout!

Donnie: He loves those British guys who are amazed at seasoned food in America. Also grilling videos and reviews of smokers.

Please comment your thoughts on these characters youtube rabbit holes (tell me that im wrong!)

#whitaker tiny desk enthusiast.... he gets me #he watches chappells when it came out and is like hey trinity check out this cool artist i found #(she's already been streaming midwest princess for months)#mateo youtube shorts warrior #mckay 💀💀💀💀💀#the pitt

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