#911ls fic

The scene that greeted him in the alley stopped him short. The tall, thin vampire laid on the ground in two pieces, his head still rolling before catching up against the dirty brick wall on the side of the building. The pretty man was there, looking bored. There was another man in the alley with him, older but still ridiculously handsome, holding a…sword? The blade was bloody and dripping, and the man holding it looked absolutely delighted. 

“See? I told you it would work! Best purchase I’ve ever made with someone else’s money!” the older man said, gleeful and bright. On further inspection, the resemblance between the object of Carlos’ attention and this other man was uncanny. Unless the younger one was an accident of extremely late in life birth, this was a father and son. 

And, obviously, they knew what they were doing. So, hunters, Carlos surmised. 

At the moment of his realization, as he started putting away his knife in relief, the younger man turned on him with a confused and slightly irritated expression.

“What the hell are you doing here? Did you follow me?” 

“Well, I thought you might be in danger, and–”

“Do I look like a damsel in distress to you? What the fuck were you thinking? You were just gonna stare at me all night, then as soon as I left with another guy you’d come after us and, I don’t know, lay claim for my hand or something? And you could have been killed for it–”

“I wouldn’t have, I know what I’m doing,” Carlos said, a little indignantly because really, did he look like an incompetent idiot? 

“Son, calm down. Look, he’s one of us.” The older man, still holding his ridiculously large sword–and really, did he carry that around everywhere? Just out in the open?--began walking toward his son and Carlos, who had unconsciously moved closer to each other amid their snarking. 

Carlos saw the son take in his whole appearance, including the knife still dangling in his hand, and scoffed.

“You expected to kill a vamp with a pig sticker?” This was accompanied by a derisive laugh that really should not have been as ridiculously attractive as it was, considering Carlos was the object of said derision. But the heart and the dick want what they want. 

Still, Carlos wasn’t going to not defend himself. “Trust me, I can slice off a bloodsucker’s head with a butter knife if I have to. Not all of us carry medieval weapons with us to the goddamn bar.” 

The father looked offended for a moment, admiring his sword once again before directing his attention back at Carlos. “Please excuse him, he doesn’t work well with others. I’m sure you understand, being a hunter yourself. We’re not exactly a sociable bunch.”

Carlos conceded the point. He was used to other hunters being tight knit with their own, and distrustful of almost anyone else. It came with seeing the things you saw in this life. 

“I’m Owen, and Mr. Grumpy here is my son, TK.” Owen put his hand out, and Carlos shook it. 

“Carlos, pleased to meet you both,” he said politely. His own hand came away a little bloody, and Owen looked chagrined for a moment. 

TK, for his part, was finally relaxing in Carlos’ presence, accepting the fact that Carlos hadn’t been barreling headlong into a suicide mission as TK had obviously first thought. His irritation was turning, wildly, into admiration by the minute, judging by the not exactly covert once–and then twice–over look he gave Carlos while his dad’s back was turned. He said nothing, though. 

“Well, I think we best be on our way,” Owen said as he bent down to begin picking up the body. “A hand here, son?”

TK gave Carlos one more look, then shuffled over to help Owen pick up the dead weight and toss it into a nearby dumpster. Carlos took it upon himself to palm the head, lifting it up and casually tossing it in the open container before Owen let the lid slam down over their gruesome quarry. 

“Was nice to meet you, Carlos. See you on the flip!” Owen called, already making his way out of the alley. 

“Likewise, sir,” he answered with a small smile. TK made to follow his father, having to walk close by Carlos in the small width of the alley. Carlos just couldn’t resist the words that came next, the magnetism from TK pulling at him to not let this man get away, even knowing it was fruitless. “So, that your type?” he asked, gesturing vaguely back to the dumpster. “Tall, possessive men with evil intent?”

TK didn’t miss a beat, and what he said next sealed Carlos’ fate even though he didn’t know it at the time. 

“Nah, I like my men tall, dark, chivalrous, and good with butter knives.” He smirked devilishly, looking up through his eyelashes, and pushed past Carlos out of the alley. 

Carlos had never swooned in his life, and he did his best not to start now, but he couldn’t have said if he was successful. 

–

They met again, as fate or luck or destiny would have it, three weeks and four states later at a bar called Ryder’s. It was run by a hunter couple who, for all intents and purposes, were retired, but no one ever left this life completely. It was a nice place to be amongst like-minded people, people who had seen and heard and survived the same horrendous things, and you could unwind knowing no one was going to judge you. Hunters, as a general rule, had very specific neuroses that didn’t sit well with normal people most of the time. 

Carlos entered the bar at 3pm on a Tuesday, and walked right into Owen as he was stepping out. 

“Carlos! Nice to see you again. Been staying out of trouble?” he smiled.

“Not at all, sir,” Carlos joked. 

Owen chuckled.“I know all about that. I heard about that djinn den you broke up last week. Hell of a job, son.” Hearing the approval of a father, even if it wasn’t his own, was sobering and it took Carlos a moment to respond. 

“Oh, that was all Iris, sir. My partner. She’s the mastermind.” It was true. Iris was the best hunter Carlos had ever met, and he’d met plenty over the last three years. She had her struggles, but the way her mind worked in twisty bends and blunt reality at turns was truly an advantage in their line of work. Carlos was just the muscle most days, but he kept up. 

“I’d love to meet her,” Owen said, “pick her brain sometime.” 

“You can, sir, if you’d like. She’s meeting me here.” 

“I look forward to it. Just gotta grab something from the truck.”

Carlos bid Owen a temporary farewell and made his way to the bar, eyes unconsciously searching. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t hoping the son wasn’t far from the father. He was right, it turned out, and he found TK at the end of the bar, chatting with Grace as she wiped out a pint glass. 

“Hey, Carlos! Long time no see,” Grace greeted him with a smile. It caused TK to whip his head around to stare before his face cracked into a grin. 

“Well, well. Fancy meeting you here and not in a dark alley.” Carlos got lost in his beautiful green eyes for a moment before he could respond, and TK was still speaking. “To be fair, though, I wouldn’t be opposed to meeting you anywhere.”

Carlos coughed a bit, his eyes cutting to Grace as she laughed and moved over to a pair of women flagging her down. 

“That so?” Carlos finally said as he slid onto the stool next to TK. 

“Mmm.”

Carlos roughly turned the conversation into something resembling small talk, and they chatted for a long while before a familiar song lit up the jukebox, the down and dirty guitar riffs sinking into Carlos’ veins. He steeled his resolve, and took a chance.

He cut his eyes over to the dancefloor and back to TK. “Hey. You wanna dance?”

TK contemplated for a moment, the music suffusing into the room and filling their ears with a sultry energy. Finally, he answered, “No.”

“No?” Carlos was taken aback, but TK’s expression had shifted from good-natured into something else entirely. It sent shivers down Carlos’ spine in the best way.

“No, I don’t wanna dance. I wanna meet you in a dark alley.” TK raised an eyebrow at him before getting up and sauntering across the room, pausing at the back door and looking back at Carlos, frozen on his stool. TK jerked his head, and that finally got Carlos moving. 

When Carlos found him, TK was leaned up against the battered wood siding, one foot propped up against the wall, smirking. Carlos strode up to him and immediately placed his hands on TK’s waist. 

“So. You lured me out here. What now?”

“Well, we don’t exactly have much time before someone finds us out here, and I share a motel room with my dad so that’s out.” He quirked an eyebrow, silently asking if Carlos had any ideas. 

“I’m afraid Iris and I didn’t mean to stay long, so I haven’t got a motel room of my own at the moment.” To be fair, Carlos also wouldn’t leave Iris here at Ryder’s to satisfy his lust anyway, he wasn’t that kind of guy. However, TK was making him seriously question a good number of his morals. 

“Back alley blowjob it is, then,” TK said simply, before dropping to his knees. 

–

After that, Carlos and Iris ran into TK and Owen more frequently than he could’ve predicted, which he’d later learn was all TK’s doing. His husband would admit this much, much later as in the early days, TK did his best to seem aloof and hard to get–despite their second meeting resulting in mutual orgasms. He’d rock Carlos’ entire world and leave without a trace, only to turn up a couple of months later to nag Carlos about his knife collection, the way he staked out a mark, or–on one memorable occasion–the type of beer he was buying in a roadside gas station in Pennsylvania. 

“You’re really gonna drink a Keystone Light after that?” TK asked from behind him, startling Carlos more than he’d care to admit. ‘That’ referred the days-long job in which Carlos and Iris had weeded out a particularly adept shapeshifter and finally brought her down. Carlos didn’t ask how TK had heard of a job he’d completed less than six hours ago, because he’d learned over the course of the past year that TK just knew these things. Especially about Carlos. “I thought you were a Texan. Not gonna go for the Shiner?”

Carlos, too smitten at this point to do any kind of arguing, made the switch just to see the way TK’s eyes danced knowingly under the dim strip lighting. 

“What are you drinking, then? You drove all this way from Ohio just to berate my beer choices, I might as well buy you one for your trouble.” Carlos himself was also unusually abreast of where and what TK was doing at any given moment.

TK raised his eyebrows at Carlos’ knowledge of his whereabouts, but simply said, “I don’t.”

And Carlos…had noticed that over these past few months. It was strange for a hunter not to self-medicate, with the things they saw and did, but he’d never begrudge anyone their coping mechanisms, whatever they were. Clearly either TK was into harder things, or he had some other secret way to unwind. 

Carlos learned later that it used to be the first option, that TK would do his best to numb his body and mind with whatever he could get his hands on in the years after his mother was killed, but that over time his father had brought him back from the brink and he’d turned a new leaf right around the time they’d met for the first time. To this day he still struggled, but Carlos was there for him every step of the way. 

They met and fell into bed together nearly every chance they got over the next two years. When it came time that Owen decided he could better serve the community by teaming up with Judd to increase the knowledge base hunters worked with, and when Iris’ sister Michelle came back from England and convinced Iris she wanted in, well. It made sense for Carlos to bid Iris a tearful–not permanent, they promised–goodbye and he and TK packed their combined arsenals into Carlos’ flashy Camaro–

“So fucking impractical, oh my god! It’s tiny, it doesn’t hold nearly enough in the trunk, and it’s distinctive as hell! How in the fuck do you manage to keep a low profile with this thing? The cops are bound to know you!”

“It’s fast,” was Carlos’ smug answer. 

–and headed out on their own. They made a name for themselves quite quickly, taking out whole vampire dens and weeding out shifters and werewolves and djinns up and down the highways of every US state. They had ins with local groups based on Owen’s name, but soon they were holding their own among the hunter community as a formidable team. TK was a skilled marksman, one of the best snipers Carlos had ever met, and a talented con man, smiling and charming his way into anyone’s good graces, especially their marks–not unlike he was doing when Carlos first met him all that time ago–and Carlos had taken everything Iris had ever taught him about research and planning and waiting for the precise moment to heart, able to suss out patterns and motives TK was continuously impressed by.

Also, he was still ‘disgustingly talented’ with a knife. TK’s words, as he’d kissed him deeply and wholly inappropriately three feet from a dissolving corpse in the middle of an abandoned schoolhouse. 

They’d encountered more than their fair share of demons, with the mounting numbers of them clawing their way up from hell, but Carlos had a sigil carved into the back of his watch and TK had a medallion around his neck that his father had given him when he was 17 that he never took off. They were safe, they were skilled, and they were efficient. 

Six months into hunting together and nearly four years into their dance of knowing each other, TK proposed with a piece of wire he’d nicked from a hardware store, folded into a ring shape and presented on one knee in the alley behind Ryder’s. Carlos would swear to his grave, in every retelling they recounted for their friends, that he hadn’t cried, but they both knew better. 

Their romance was like hunting itself: wild but precise, loud but stealthy, adrenaline followed by the calm after the storm. Guaranteed to keep going long into the unknown. 

–

It happened on an innocuous Tuesday, no job in town but they’d stopped because they heard the ice cream shop on main street in this tiny town had a boysenberry flavor and TK couldn’t be reasoned with when he wanted something, and Carlos couldn’t be arsed to tell him no. 

They enjoyed their ice cream while walking up the nearly deserted street, when something crawled across the back of Carlos’ neck. A warning. A sixth sense. He didn’t need to turn to TK to know he’d felt it too, in his own way. 

“The general store over there,” TK said lowly, his hand creeping into place at the small of Carlos’ back, a silent reassurance that they were in this together. 

Carlos glanced across the street, not seeing anything out of the ordinary, but still getting that persistent feeling in his gut that something was wrong. “Let’s go.”

The bell rang cheerily as they entered, and there was an older man with a thick beard standing behind the counter. His voice shook when he greeted them, and Carlos’ hackles raised higher. 

“Hi, fellas. W-What can I do you for?” 

TK immediately slid into charm mode. “Just looking for some twine, sir. Our trunk won’t seem to shut, the latch is broken, gotta get that looked at,” he rubbed the back of his head self-deprecatingly, smiling bashfully, “you got any strong stuff we could use?”

The man didn’t relax, but smiled as best he could. Carlos, meanwhile, was casing the store looking for anything out of place. When he circled toward the back, near the door marked Staff Only, he found a few seed packets that had fallen from their display on the wall adjacent. It wasn’t until he heard the pained gasp from behind the door, faint but audible, that his instincts fully kicked in. He glanced at TK and the older man, nearer to the middle of the store where the man was showing TK a few rolls of twine. They locked eyes, and Carlos tilted his head toward the door. 

“You wouldn’t happen to have anything stronger, would you? Maybe in the back?” TK asked innocently, gesturing toward where Carlos was standing. 

The man’s face paled. “I-I don’t know, I-”

Carlos strode over to him as calmly as possible. He wasn’t as good at the con game as TK was, so he led with the straightforward truth. “Sir, are you in danger?” The man paled further, but didn’t seem inclined to talk. “If you’re not, then is someone else?” He again tilted his head toward the door at the back. 

TK had dropped his act as well. “We can help you, trust us.” His eyes bore nothing but truth, and they seemed to soften the man a bit. 

“M-my…my wife. She’s–my son and daughter are–oh god…” the man said in a pained whisper.

“Sir?”

“When we all came in today–we own the place, we all pitch in–my kids were…not themselves. They told me to stay out here and they took her back there and…and sometimes I hear screams.” His voice cracked on the last bit. “This isn’t them, I swear they aren’t like this! It isn’t them!” He was whisper shouting, clearly still afraid of what was behind the door. “They said they’ll kill her if I go back there.”

Carlos placed a hand on his shoulder. “What are their names? Your kids.”

“Lindy and Zach. My wife’s name is Melissa.” When TK and Carlos immediately started towards the front door, he grabbed both their arms. “Wait! Where are you going? I thought you said you’d help us!”

“Just gotta get a few things from the car, we’ll be right back,” TK assured him. 

When they returned, carrying a book and a bottle of holy water, the man eyed them wearily. “You got any salt?” Carlos asked. The man just pointed at a far shelf, and Carlos helped himself to three pint containers. “Wait here, no matter what you hear, do not come back there, okay?”

He looked at them incredulously. “What are you going to do?” 

“We’re gonna save your wife and kids, sir, but we need to be quick about it, otherwise they’ll get away.” 

The man was still looking at them like they were crazy–which they were used to from the general public–but he apparently wanted any kind of help at this point so he let them go. 

When TK opened the door to the back room, Lindy and Zach were standing over their mother, tied to a chair, looking like they’d used her for knifework practice. Slices and cuts littered her arms, legs, and neck, and her head was hanging limply as blood flowed out of every wound in a steady trickle. Considering they didn’t know how long this had been going on, Carlos erred on the side of caution and assessed she’d need medical attention pretty quickly. 

Upon their arrival, the two teenagers turned to look at them, their eyes gleaming black, and Carlos’ heart lurched. 

Demons. 

“Come to join the party, hunters?” the girl said. 

“Come to give you an express ride back downstairs,” TK said with a grin as Carlos dropped down to line the exit with salt. 

TK ripped the cork out of his bottle of holy water and splashed them both with it, hitting the mother but clearly not causing any harm. They both screamed, and the girl hit the ground but the boy made for the back wall. 

“Shit,” Carlos muttered, watching as the possessed Zach kicked open a back door leading out into an alley between buildings before he kicked into gear and followed. He paused at the door to look back at TK, who already had the book out, flipped open to the quickest exorcism text they had.

“Go! I got it here.”

Carlos spared one more moment to take in his husband, then bolted. Demons were strong, sure, but they had limitations based on the body they possessed, and Zach was a stringy, short kid who couldn’t be more than 14, so Carlos was on him in under a minute. They grappled to the ground, and Zach spit some choice words in his face before Carlos took the container of salt still in his hand and emptied it down his throat. 

The black smoke hurled out of the boy, shaking his body and causing his eyes to water before he finally went still, the occasional ragged cough racking his frame until he calmed fully. That lasted for about five seconds.

“Oh my god, where’s my mom? Where’s my sister? I remember–oh god.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s okay. You’re okay,” Carlos cooed as he took the boy in his arms. Even though he was a stranger, Carlos had just saved the kid’s life, so Zach folded into his arms readily. “My husband is with them, and he probably dealt with it a lot more elegantly than I just did. Sorry about that, by the way,” he murmured, gesturing to the kid’s mouth still spitting salt.

“Whatever you did just now–was fucking brilliant. No notes. Thank you,” Zach said in a hoarse voice. 

“Come on, let’s go see your mom and sister. I bet TK has it all wrapped up by now.”

“He that good? You sound pretty confident.” Zach got up off the ground and brushed his pants of gravel. 

“Oh yeah. He’s good,” Carlos smiled to himself. 

When they arrived back at the back room of the general store, it was apparent that TK had, in fact, not dealt with things elegantly at all. The chair the mother had been tied to was in pieces, the mother thankfully still whole, but tossed to the far side of the room where she lay still, but breathing. The daughter was also unconscious, but breathing deeply in TK’s arms. TK himself had two cuts on his cheek, and there was blood steadily seeping into his shirt from a wound in his shoulder. 

Carlos’ eyes went directly to it, but TK shook his head. “I’m fine, just a scratch. She wouldn’t give up the knife,” he shrugged. He turned to Zach, “She’s okay though, the thing that was in her is gone.”

The father ran to them just then, nearly sliding across the floor and scattering the salt barrier they’d laid down earlier, putting his hands on his daughter’s face before crawling over to his wife. 

“You should get them all to the hospital, and soon,” Carlos said. “What was there is gone, but they’ve still got wounds.”

“Yeah, I had to clock her over the head a little so she’d stop coming at me. Couldn’t read the book. I should memorize it like Iris,” TK said with a roll of his eyes, supremely confident in a job well done. Carlos just smiled. “We’ll lock up the store, you go,” he said to the father as he gathered his wife in his arms. Zach took his sister’s body and the four of them were out the door and into a waiting pickup truck. 

“This is kind of embarrassing. I sang your praises, told Zach you’d deal with it elegantly.”

“How is this not elegant?” TK asked, gesturing to the carnage of the room–supplies pushed off shelves, the splintered remnants of the chair, what was probably–hopefully–cleaning chemicals spilled onto the floor. His smug smirk melted Carlos’ bones, though. 

“Come on, we gotta get that looked at, too,” he said, gesturing to TK’s shoulder. 

“This? Nah. Just a scratch, I promise.” He moved his arm up and down leisurely, not a hint of pain on his face. “See?”

“Mmm. Still gonna want to bandage it back at the motel. You’re just gonna have to bear my miserable sewing skills.” 

“The tragedy,” TK rolled his eyes but smiled up at Carlos. Carlos, used to how these things usually went, sauntered over and placed his hands on TK’s waist, pulling him closer. 

TK simply pecked him on the lips, smiling indulgently before muttering, “Let’s go. I’m beat.” Carlos watched him walk out of the room, tiptoeing over the scattered salt line before flicking his head that Carlos should follow. “You coming?”

Carlos stood for a confused moment before following him out, his eyes catching on something glinting in a corner of the room. He stopped and bent over, unearthing TK’s medallion from a pile of individually packaged toilet paper. He slipped it into his pocket and followed TK out to the car. 

Back at the motel, TK went straight to the shower and came back out in sweatpants and a t-shirt, a bandage clearly wrapped around his upper left shoulder under the sleeve. Carlos watched as he went about his nightly routine, moisturizing his face and combing his hair. He watched as TK folded up his jacket into a trash bag and put it into his luggage, presumably to be cleaned of the blood later when they had proper facilities. He then slid into bed next to Carlos, pecked him on the cheek, and bid him goodnight. 

Carlos never saw his wound. 

Over the next few days, they made their way towards Tennessee where they were supposed to meet up with the Blake sisters for some much needed time off to relax. TK was his usual chatty self in the car, and Carlos laughed at his stupid puns just like he always did. Carlos texted Iris as soon as they hit town, and she suggested they meet at her motel, and she and Michelle would be waiting. Perfect. 

When Carlos knocked on the door of room 318, he could hear the excited shuffling through the thick wood before it was flung open and he had an armful of Iris. He enveloped her in his arms and breathed in her comforting scent; he hadn’t seen his best friend in nearly a year as their jobs had taken them to different ends of the continent–and then to different continents–but coming back together was like breathing. 

“We’re all set,” she whispered in his ear and he tensed slightly before nodding imperceptibly and letting her drop back down to the carpet.

TK was hugging Michelle and chatting amiably, and Michelle was slowly ambling their conversation across the room toward the small dining table. “Come sit and have some coffee, TK. I got that stupid oat creamer you like, with the honey that doesn’t actually taste like honey,” Iris chirped as she and Carlos followed the other two across the room. 

Michelle poured a generous cup for all of them, and she and TK sat down at the table with theirs. Carlos watched her emit the smallest sigh of relief as TK took the seat across from her. As intended. 

“How have you guys been?” she asked him, tone cordial. 

“Chelle, come on. Let’s just get to it,” Iris interrupted, looking bewildered that Michelle would attempt small talk now that their mark had taken his seat. Carlos put a hand around her shoulders and squeezed. 

“She’s right. I want this over with,” he said. 

TK darted his eyes in between all of them, looking increasingly confused. “Get what over with?” His voice was small. Innocent. 

Michelle sighed and got up from her chair, coming to stand next to her sister. “Fine. But make it fast. I don’t want to give him a chance to–”

“What’s going on?” TK asked, his gaze still flitting between everyone else in the room. “Carlos?” The bewilderment in his expression couldn’t be faked. 

Except it was.

“You’re not my husband,” Carlos said flatly, staring into eyes he’d dreamt about for months before he’d even gotten up the nerve to ask TK on a proper date. 

“Carlos?” TK’s voice was incredulous. “What are you saying?” Carlos thought to himself that he was playing it rather well. However, there was a simple enough test to prove Carlos was right.

“If you’re really my husband, the love of my life, then come over here and kiss me.”

Carlos had seen it once or twice over the last few days: he’d go in for a kiss and TK’s face would screw up just slightly, only for a split second, before he’d allow the affection. It turned Carlos’ stomach every time, especially after he’d made his ultimate conclusion.

TK–not TK–being none the wiser, seemed to steel himself before taking a step toward Carlos. 

Except he was stopped by an invisible force, unable to walk even a foot away from the table. His face was confused for half a second, holding onto the act, before it dropped and a truly enraged scowl took over his beautiful features.

He turned to Iris and Michelle. “You fucking cunts,” he spat, looking up to the ceiling where the Blake sisters had painted a demon trap in black chalk. 

“Shut up,” Carlos spat right back. “You’ve got one chance here before I start in on the reading and the holy water. Get out of my husband and go back where you came from.”

The demon just laughed. Hearing the evil edge to his own husband’s voice turned his stomach. “You know what? I don’t think I will.” He sauntered back and plopped down into one of the chairs again, leaning back with his legs stretched out in front of him like he didn’t have a care in the world, like Carlos wasn’t about to unleash holy fire on him for daring to defile his husband. When he looked back up, his eyes were fully black, and Carlos had to fight the nausea that instantly threatened to take him. It was abhorrent, seeing TK’s gorgeous green eyes give way to hell’s dark pits. 

“Fine, have it your way,” Carlos said with disgust, walking over to where he’d dropped his duffle by the door. He grabbed the old, beaten leather book and a plastic water bottle, taking a moment to level out his breathing. TK was still in there, and no matter how much Carlos wanted to wreak havoc on the hellspawn for daring to possess him, he couldn’t hurt TK in any physical way. The holy water would have to do, along with the salt Michelle was now brandishing in her left hand. 

“Just,” the demon started, a sinister look of curiosity on his face, “for shits and giggles…what gave it away? I thought I was doing pretty well there. Especially with the stupid puns, my god this guy has so many stupid puns saved up in here.” He tapped his temple. “Between the screaming and the pleading it was hard to get to some of them, but I did it. You even laughed. It was cute.” 

“I’m not going to indulge you no matter how much you want me to. You’re going back to hell, so sit tight and shut up, asshole.”

“Was it because I wouldn’t kiss you? Because I gotta say, I think I did pretty well playing at being a f–”

Screams erupted from the demon’s throat as his skin started smoking and burning, the uncapped bottle of holy water clutched in Carlos’ hand. The demon tried to rush at him, rage on his face and in his black eyes, but he was brought up short by the invisible brick wall of the trap. He looked like he was fighting against it with everything he had, to no avail. 

“I said, sit tight and shut up,” Carlos growled. He set down the bottle and opened his book, flipping to the right page. “Don’t worry TK,” he whispered under his breath. “I’m gonna get you back. Don’t worry, baby.” He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and started chanting.

It was hard to watch TK’s body writhe and scream and cover his ears in agony, but Carlos kept on. Occasionally he’d have to stop for a breath, and the demon would taunt him some more, but he did his best not to listen to it. He got through two-thirds of the ritual before he paused just long enough for the demon to spit: “He hates you, you know. Can’t stand you. You’re too controlling and you nag every damn day about the way he washes clothes and the way he stocks the weapons. The sex has just been good enough that he’s stuck around. He wishes he could leave you. He’s tried to, sometimes, just trying to pack up in the middle of the night, but you always wake up when he moves. Throw your arm over him and cage him in. He hates it.”

Carlos stopped cold for a solid thirty seconds. He was shocked enough that he forgot himself until Iris punched his arm, hard. “Hey, don’t listen. He’s just trying to get you to stop, TK doesn’t think those things at all, and you know it. Don’t be stupid, Carlos.”

“Really? I’m the one in his head. Continuous line to all his thoughts. Who you gonna trust?” the demon snarls with a smile. In that moment, it had never been harder to remind himself that it was TK’s face, TK’s voice saying these things, but it was not TK. 

Carlos shook himself, glared at the demon who was now cackling with glee despite the burns on his arms and face, and deliberately continued his chant. 

“Okay! Okay, fine! Damnit, you son of a bitch! You motherfucker! Stop! Stop! Please, it hurts!”

“Good,” Michelle snapped. 

“It hurts him, too, you know. He’s screaming for mercy in here,” the demon said to Carlos, trying for a smile and failing through his pain. 

“He can take it. I’ve seen TK take two stabs to the back and keep going. You don’t scare him and you don’t scare me.” Two passages left and this demon would be gone. Carlos raised his book again.

The screams and cries grew louder, louder, until they were cut off completely. TK’s body seized up, his fingers going crooked and mangled, as black smoke poured from him and rippled to the floor, disappearing out of sight. They all held their breath for the smallest sliver of a moment before Carlos rushed forward to catch TK before he fell to the floor like a ragdoll. 

He was unconscious, so Carlos started rubbing his sternum and calling out to him. “TK, come on, baby, come back to me. I know you’re in there, you have to be, please come back.” As Carlos continued trying to revive his husband, Michelle rushed over to her duffle for medical supplies in case they’d injured TK somehow during the exorcism. Iris stood by Carlos for moral support. 

“He’ll be okay, just give him a minute,” she said softly, rubbing her hand through Carlos’ curls. 

Just when Carlos was starting to panic, TK’s eyes fluttered open slowly. Carlos felt like his own strings had been cut as he collapsed down on top of his husband in relief. The only thing that pulled his attention away from holding TK tight and never letting go was the small, pained gasp. He sat back up and looked TK over frantically, trying to decipher where he was injured. He didn’t think they did anything damaging to an actual human, but... “Baby? What’s wrong? Where are you hurt?”

TK was barely conscious, now that the demon animating his body was gone. This wasn’t normal, once a demon was exorcised, the person went right back to normal. Usually. 

“A-arm,” came TK’s strained, quiet reply. He tilted his chin to indicate his left arm, which was lying limply at his side. 

Carlos rushed to rip his jacket off, trying not to cause further pain but finding it difficult to go slowly. When he could see the shoulder, he nearly choked. The sleeve of the shirt was distorted by the makeshift bandage underneath it, but the material was discolored with old blood and something else Carlos didn’t want to contemplate. 

“Michelle!” he cried as she came rushing over. “Oh god, he got this days ago. He said it was a scratch, he…” Carlos knew now that it was the demon talking. The demon himself didn’t feel any pain from the host's body besides holy water and salt, but TK had been trapped in his own mind with a hellspawn and this pain for days. Carlos felt sick. 

Michelle was right next to him, cutting away the ragged strips of old t-shirt the demon had covered up the wound with. It’s no wonder he hadn’t ever come to bed shirtless. “Looks like he just covered it enough to hide the bleeding, he didn’t clean it at all” Michelle observed. The wound itself was ugly. Festering, swollen, and leaking as Michelle prodded at it. “It’s definitely infected.”

“Come on, we gotta get him to a hospital!” Carlos begged her.

“Yes, we do, but hang on. I’ve got some antibiotics in my bag, I’ll give him a dose to hold him over before we go.” She worked quickly and efficiently, though not quickly enough for Carlos. He kept his eyes on TK’s face as Michelle cleaned the wound with the items Iris brought her on command, the sisters working like a well-oiled machine. TK was in and out of consciousness, wincing in pain and clamping his mouth shut when it got too intense before passing out again. 

It felt like ages but Michelle finally finished up and Carlos carried him out to the car and held him all the way to the emergency room doors. As they placed him on a stretcher, about to wheel him away, his hand reached for Carlos one more time. Carlos grabbed his hand, placing kisses on his knuckles, stroking his hair softly. “I’m here baby, I’ll be with you again soon, I promise.”

TK’s eyes fluttered but he was clearly working hard to stay conscious. He looked up into Carlos’ eyes, his expression pleading. His voice was cracked and withered, barely able to make a sound. “Don’t hate you, don’t hate you,” he repeated, shaking his head minutely and still looking at Carlos with a plea in his bright green eyes. Carlos squeezed his hand as tightly as he dared, and leaned down to kiss his forehead.

“I know that, I know. I promise I know that. I know you love me. Even if I nag you about the clothes,” he said, smiling and trying to lighten the mood. 

“Love you,” TK sighed before being whisked away by the nurses.

“He’ll be fine, Carlos,” Michelle said, putting an arm around his shoulder. “It’s infected but they’ll fix it. He’ll be good as new, I promise.”

Carlos could only nod as the adrenaline finally hit him and he sagged into a chair, flanked by both sisters as they sat vigil until they could see TK again. 

He was still furiously twirling his wedding ring around his finger hours later when a doctor came out to tell them TK would make a full recovery. The sigh of relief that left him settled his bones in a way he hadn’t felt in over a week, and he was suddenly exhausted beyond measure. 

“Come on,” Iris prodded, tugging on his wrist as she rose from her chair. “Lets go ream him for getting himself possessed.” Even though Carlos knew she was at least half-joking, he couldn’t help himself from wanting to yell a little at TK losing his medallion in the first place and causing all this mess. 

However, the moment he walked into TK’s hospital room, he was bombarded with a barely coherent TK spouting apologies and pleas at him anyway. God, Carlos and I’m so stupid, and I’m sorry, baby, can you forgive me? Before Carlos could get a word in edgewise, TK had worked himself up to near panic now that he was more conscious than he had been all day.

“Baby, baby, shh. I’m not mad.” TK’s eyebrows raised up into his hairline. “Okay, maybe a little mad, but not at you. I’m just glad you’re okay.” He pushed a hand through TK’s greasy hair, humming a little and thinking of when they could get out of here and share a shower back at the hotel. 

“The chain broke. I felt it break, but I was kind of busy, and then all of a sudden I was—” He choked up a little, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you like that.” 

“I know you didn’t. Not your fault, okay? We made it through, like we always do.” 

“Yeah,” TK said with a soft smile before his eyes went curious. “By the way, what did give it away? I know the demon asked and you didn’t answer, but…”

Carlos was silent for a moment, weighing whether or not he should tell him because the answer was…well. But ultimately he decided, fuck it. 

“I knew before we left the general store that day. Well, maybe I didn’t know, but I was suspicious. The rest of the night confirmed it.”

“What made you suspicious?”

“When the fight was over, you only pecked me on the lips and left the scene immediately. Even though the family had left, and we were alone, you wanted to leave straight away.” Carlos left it there, hoping TK would get it. His face said that he didn’t, like his husband wasn’t self aware enough to see the issue. 

Carlos sighed. “TK. When have you ever, in our entire acquaintance, dating, and marriage, not been extremely horny after a successful hunt? I usually have to pry you off of me until we’re somewhere decent.” He tried to ignore the disgusted groans from the sisters who were still in the room with them. “The fact that you didn’t try to jump me right there in the store room was pretty much a dead giveaway.”

TK blushed but didn’t deny it. “Mmm, yeah. Okay, I see your point,” he grinned. “You’re just so hot when you kill things,” he whined.