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Summary
If Trinity thought her blood pressure had spiked when she saw the knife, the feeling that she gets when she sees Izzy in the doorway to the room Trinity had left is akin to the worst case of hypertension she's ever seen. She wouldn't be surprised if the veins in her eyes are bursting, sending ribbons of red spilling out across the whites.
Alex is beginning to speak again, his voice shaking but his tone firm and unrelenting. "I have to go—"
Trinity reaches out instinctively, unable to think about anything other than keeping Izzy out of his eyeline. "Alex! Don't—"
She doesn't see him pull out the knife. But a split second after he moves there's a sharp pain in her left arm, blood immediately welling up out of a slash across it. She presses onto it with her other hand, shying away from him in pain, her basic animal brain telling her to protect the injury.
This is the wrong move.
or: it turns out that, for trinity at least, getting stabbed makes you rethink a few things. among these things is included your ex-situationship-turned-tentative-work-friend-turned-awkward-avoidanceship (yeah, it's a mouthful. maybe quicker to just call her garcia)