#tarlosfic

When Carlos falls in love,  even if he didn’t know it at the time, he felt like Icarus.

Flying higher and higher into the feeling of warmth and fire, too wild to be contained. And it was exciting, and beautiful.

That’s what being close to TK Strand felt like, at the start.

But unlike Icarus, Carlos anticipated the fall that will eventually follow.

And when it does, and he finds himself sitting in front of an abandoned meal after taking a step towards something beyond flame, with his pride bruised, and his ego more than a little shot, Carlos thought that it’d be the end of it.

Only to be the officer to have to process the guy after he decides to be a dumbass in a bar.

And Carlos would love to say that he kept it close to the chest, and professional. Because why would he do anything else for a man that decided he was just going to blow up on him for making him dinner.

But just like everything else about TK Strand, there is so much more to him than meets the eye. And his heart aches for the pain the man reveals to him while he processes him. The feeling of being numb is not something that Carlos would ever wish on anyone else. TK’s pain was so clear and brimming that he spills it out to Carlos in the middle of the precinct, and it’s clear even to him that the man is reaching out for something beyond physicality, while trying so hard not to crave for it. It's then that Carlos tells himself that he will handle everything about TK Strand with care. Not like he’s fragile, no. But as if his heart beats outside of person, ready and hurting for everyone to see. Because when Carlos had looked into his eyes that night, had wiped the grime off his lips and met his gaze, Carlos felt like he could see his heart right there, and how it suffers.

He goes with the motions then, and soon they’re straddling the space between lover and boyfriend. He likes him enough to tell Michelle about him, utters his name aloud and finds himself smiling right after. Like he can’t help it. A part of him is smitten beyond a quick tumble to bed and Carlos starts to worry for himself, and how fast he’s falling.

So he asks him out, dishes out sage advice and lets himself bask at how adorable this man can be, when he is smiling and happy, and thinking of things aside the numbness he feels inside. And Carlos hopes that each interaction they have results in more warmth in said numbness, and he finds himself holding TK tighter after a night together, kissing his forehead like he’s something precious. Something he’s afraid to lose.

Which can explain the breathlessness he feels when he gets word that TK got shot, and Carlos feels upended.

The next thing he knows, he’s standing outside of TK’s hospital room, watching as Owen holds his son, talks to him so softly, and Carlos wants to comfort him but all he can see is TK so still in the bed. And if he’s learned anything is that the man is never still. He’s always moving, squirming just a little even when he’s meant to stay put. But in that moment, attached to wires and his pale skin looking even paler in the fluorescent light, TK looks wrong and Carlos has to jerk himself away from the darkness of his thoughts.

He had to stop himself from scrambling forward when Owen tells him to sit with TK, and as soon as they’re alone, Carlos found himself speaking words aloud to him that TK, nor anyone, will ever get to hear.

“Come back to me,” Carlos had muttered, gripping the bicep under his head gently, and there’s tears in his eyes that he can’t bother to wipe away. “I know we don’t know what we are just yet, but if you come back to me, we can figure it out together. Come back to me, TK.”

He knew then that he was tactile, perhaps too tactile for someone who not exactly TK’s boyfriend, but that’s how Carlos loves. That’s how Carlos was raised. They hug and kiss in their family, his Mama would always proclaim, and there were always squeezes and kisses and hearty laughs afterwards. Even his dad, who is not as warm as his mother, is still warm in his own way, even with the misunderstanding they had held as a family when Carlos had found the courage to come out to them.

Carlos had come out as a perfect combination of his parents in that regard. Tactile, but not much so. Very tactile to those he held dear, always somewhat beside them, pressing close, keeping a hand forward for them to grab. Warm and kind and incredibly sturdy at the same time, when required. And in that moment, in that hospital bed, asking TK to wake up, he was more like his mother that he is his father, and he shivered.

“Come back to me.”

He repeated the mantra, whenever they were alone. He made sure to be there in between shifts, and when he couldn’t make it, he would call Paul. And if Owen offered it, he’d take every single update, no matter how minute. When he told him that TK had been chewing in his sleep, Carlos promised himself that he’d make TK a meal that he wouldn’t walk away from this time.

“Come back to me.”

And eventually, TK did. He woke up and started to recover.

But he woke up about 10 steps back from where Carlos was standing when it comes to their relationship.

Because TK’s giving him a crash course about boba and then is somewhat breaking up with him.

In front of the goddamn boba.

And Carlos took it with grace because he was not about to argue with a man going through life crisis after getting shot about what he thinks he needs to do as a next step forward. Even though all he had wanted to do was argue back, and tell him, no. That TK will not do this, that he had come back to Carlos and Carlos would be there for him. Because at that point, Carlos knew then that TK was someone worth his time, and possibly his love, and he wants to help him get rid of the numbness and uncertainty that continued to plague his heart.

But Carlos went with what TK wanted to do.

Then the machine in front of him short circuited and crackled against his skin in protest.

And the universe screamed at them in a form of a solar storm.

And oh man, did it scream.

The world started to crash and Carlos and TK ran into action without their badge and shield, and they work together. They had always done so, their line of work did intertwine after all, but the world seemingly ending gave Carlos an intimate look on just how good TK was at his job. How dedicated, and brilliant.

Remarkable.

He ended up getting TK home after he got checked out by the paramedics, both of them soaking wet and Carlos had tutted and worried over the bloodied spot on his shirt.

And TK responded by pressing close with a kiss that takes Carlos’ breath away, and he feels like Icarus again, too close to the sun, and he found himself praying he’ll never fall.

That his wings that bring him to TK will continue to hold steady.

And it did, for a good while.

Until the farmer’s market.

Carlos grew up beloved. The youngest of three with two older sisters that dote on him, and love him. They’re all out of state now, and he has  two nieces and three nephews to dote over during the holidays because of them.

When he first came out, he had done so with his sisters, just a few months before he did so with his parents.

Camila responded with a hug and a squeeze, and Carolina did the same, kissing his cheek and holding him close. Then they hooked arms with him, just like they had many times when they were younger, and squeezed him between them, even though he’s taller than the two of them by then by a considerable amount, even at only seventeen.

“Have you told Mama?” Carolina asked, just as Camila piped in.

“Or Papa? You should, Carlos,” she said, ever the big sister.

“Would they be okay with it?” he had asked, and there was enough fear in his tone that Camila pulled him close, and Carolina held his hand.

“They will love you, anyway. No matter what,” Camila had said, and it’s what Carolina would call her “eldest tone,” that left no room for argument, but was filled with love and heart that always made Carlos and her feel like they could always go to her with anything.

So, Carlos told his parents. They do say that they love him. That they always will, because Camila was always right when it came to these things.

But that had been it, and Carlos did not know any better beyond it, to the point that the farmers market happened and he introduced TK as his friend.

Things come to head and TK was raising his voice and he was raising his back, and in so many words, Carlos had to tell TK that it was not all about him. But about Carlos, and his unsureness with being out to his parents, specifically.

And suddenly, he’s Icarus again after a long time since meeting TK and TK’s words were burning him the worst ways they could and he was falling.

Standing in the middle of the apartment with the door slamming shut, and he felt himself break. He had cried, then, screamed into his fist and sat on the couch, staring at the wall as he did. He had slept there, when it was clear that TK would not be coming home. His hand had itched to call his sisters, but he knew that if he did, they’d be there for the next day, and within two days, TK Strand would be wiped from the face of the earth, with no trace.

So, he breaks down within himself, wings singed.

But even then, Carlos knew, that it didn’t matter. He would’ve flown back to TK no matter how much it burned. He had fallen for him, and he will fall away from him, if he must, only to come back to him again and again.

Except, he didn’t have to.

Because TK came back to him.

“I am fully on board.”

The weight of his hand firm, and heavy and sure on Carlos’ and yeah, Carlos was too. Carlos had been the whole time, ever since the first flight.

And he was, through and through, and it turned out, beyond every doubt that he had, so were his parents.

“A proper introduction, Carlitos,” his dad had reminded him, after he was briefed at the hospital, TK’s hospital room behind him, Owen and Gwyn’s voices floating around them, bickering but lovely, especially with TK’s giggles amongst it.

“I promise, Papa,” he says, and his dad had pulled him in, squeezed him, and kissed his forehead.

“Hope you’re ready for your Mama’s phone call,” he said as he pulled away and Carlos groaned but he smiled as his dad walked away laughing.

It was bliss for him since then, until he lost every thing he had built for himself, before he even had the chance to meet TK.

He fell  like Icarus, and lost his wings altogether.

But not because of TK, no.

Instead, TK was the one to catch him. Hold him. Reassure him after his fear had gripped him for feeling like he had not done enough to save his home. He held Carlos and told him that they were going to be okay. And amidst the smoke, TK and his fire and his warmth remains, but it was there for Carlos, and Carlos alone.

And clung to him. His wings were gone, but that was fine, because TK had held him up, and continues to hold him up. Continues to love him, and cherish him, even amongst the rubble. Carlos was safe in his arms.

“Babe?”

Carlos blinks, and looks down to find TK staring up at him with wide eyes, head tilted slightly. “Hm, TK?” he asks, pulling him closer to his chest as TK grins.

“Just checking, you were quiet,” he responds and Carlos just leans down and kisses his nose softly. Then he pulls back and stares at TK softly.

He loves him so much.

“I love you so much,” he says, aloud, and TK’s eyes brighten even more and he moves to kiss Carlos’ lips then, muttering I love you back against his lips, before they’re sliding on the couch, and yeah.

Yeah.

Carlos will continue to be attracted to TK’s warmth, and his fire. He will forever seek it out.

Even without wings, he will continue to do so. And that was fine. He no longer feels like Icarus, no. Not when it comes to TK.

Though on this particular day, TK found himself alone in trying to get settled in since Carlos had a shift. With the 126 still out of commission, possibly forever, and the department not having any openings for paramedics, most of the unpacking was left for TK.

After getting a good chunk of the living room done, he checks the time and decides to go out and see if the mail has come yet. Not that he’s expecting anything with their address still being so new, and not getting much physical mail anyway to begin with. But it still provided a good excuse to take a break.

TK opens the front door and starts to make his way down the set of stairs leading down. 

He makes it about halfway before his attention is caught by one of his new next door neighbors, Mr. Martin- if he remembers correctly, exiting at the same time. Mr. Martin gives a friendly wave and TK goes to return the gesture.

Except, he’s not paying attention when he takes the next step, and he misses, his heel just barely hitting the edge of the step before he starts to go down. He tumbles until he comes to a hard stop at the bottom, with most of his weight coming down on his right knee, sending shooting pains up and down his leg.

The rest of his body is sore, and by the time his ears stop ringing, he can just barely make out a new female voice asking “Sir, are you okay?”

He opens his eyes, which he had not even realized he had squeezed shut at some point, to see his neighbor, Mrs. Bailey- his brain supplies, from across the street making her way over to check on him, worried lines painting across her forehead.

“Yes, ma’am. I’m fine,” he grimaces while pushing himself up to a seated position. He tries to hide the blush forming on his cheeks. Not the best way to make a good first impression on his neighbors.

“Are you sure, son? We can call for help if you need it. Someone you know, or 9-1-1?” Mr. Martin joins in the conversation.

“No!” TK interjects too quickly, startling both neighbors. He panics for a moment when the weight of the predicament settles in. He meets the gaze of both figures still staring at him, clearly concerned and waiting for him to say something. “I mean, I’m a paramedic. I’m fine. Or I will be fine. Thank you,” he flashes them both a quick smile before pushing himself up off the ground, ignoring the sharp pains that radiate from his knee when he tries to put any weight on it.

Getting back up the stairs is no easy feat, and he doesn’t have to turn around to know that both Mr. Martin and Mrs. Bailey are still watching him, concerned. Fortunately, they don’t know him well enough to try and follow or help. He’s not sure he would feel comfortable enough receiving help from some strangers. Half the time he doesn’t even feel comfortable receiving help from the people he does know.

He leans heavily on the railing, refusing to turn around out of fear of further mortification. Once he’s inside the home, he collapses right inside the hall, unable to go any further since his knee decided to stop cooperating.

A few tears pool in his eyes, and he’s unsure if that’s due to the pain or embarrassment. Not knowing what else to do, he takes out his phone and shoots a quick text to Carlos.

TK: we have to move

It doesn’t take more than a few seconds for the three dots to pop up before being replaced by Carlos’ response.

Carlos: ???

TK sighs and rubs his face, trying to figure out the best way to explain the situation.

TK: i feel down the stairs out front and all the neighbors saw

Carlos: Holy shit, are you okay??

He lets out a puff of air at that.

TK: you mean besides my bruised ego?

TK: no, i hurt my knee but i’m fine. that’s not the issue here.

Carlos: Okay, I’ll be home in an hour and you can let me be the judge of that. If I see any swelling, we’re going to the doctor.”

He rolls his eyes at Carlos’ worry. At worst, it’s a bad sprain, nothing that can’t be fixed with some icing and wrapping. But there are other things they need to worry about.

TK: you’re missing the point, carlos. the entire neighborhood thinks i’m an idiot. we can’t live here anymore.

TK knows he’s being dramatic, but the more he thinks about it, the more embarrassed he gets. The idea that these are people he’s going to have to continue to face everyday for the foreseeable future. And that now all they’ll be able to think about when they do see him. Now he’ll just be known as the guy who can’t walk down stairs.

Carlos: Relax, TK. I’ll be home soon.

TK: you mean our temporary place of residence which we will soon be moving out of

He doesn’t get a response after that. 

His mind continues to spiral while he waits for Carlos to arrive. He knows the other man is likely climbing the walls trying to leave his shift early but it would still be awhile before he could be allowed to leave.

Left alone with his thoughts, his mind keeps playing out the series of events that happened minutes ago. He can't help but beat himself up over embarrassing himself like that. Ironically enough, it’s not even the first time he’s fallen down stairs, having taken a tumble down the stairs in Carlos’ place a few months back. And of course he would manage to injure himself that time, and this time as well.

He should at least try to get up so he can find an ice pack to lessen the swelling. Sitting on the floor up against the wall can’t be doing his knee any favors. Yet he can’t bring himself to move, instead resting his head back against the wall and sighing.

TK pulls out his phone again, cycling through the apps until he hears the tell-tale keys jingling in the already unlocked door.

As soon as Carlos steps through the door, he nearly trips over TK in the doorway. “Woah, hey! TK, are you okay?” he crouches down to TK’s level.

TK shrugs. Now that he’s face to face with Carlos, he can’t help but feel suffocated by another person judging him, even if Carlos’ worry comes from a place of concern.

“Can I take a look at your knee?”

TK nods, allowing Carlos to gently inspect his swollen joint. He winces as Carlos traces his hand around his kneecap.

“This doesn’t look good, babe. I think we need to go to the hospital.”

“No, it’s fine,” he quickly shakes his head. The worried look in Carlos’ eyes only makes his heart ache, and he can only try to find ways to make it go away. “Just help me up and we can ice it. It will look better once the swelling goes down a bit.”

Carlos gives him a look that screams I don’t believe you but sighs. “Fine, but if it doesn’t…”

“I know, I know. You’ll drag my ass to the emergency room,” TK gives him a reassuring smile.

Carlos returns the smile, and extends a hand to help TK up. TK accepts, and allows Carlos to take on most of his weight once he’s standing. They slowly make their way over to the living room, with Carlos softly depositing TK onto the sofa. He then disappears into the kitchen before returning with an ice pack in hand.

“Thanks,” TK smiles, trying to mask the wince as Carlos places the pack onto his knee.

“Do you want to watch an episode of The Office?” Carlos asks, picking up the remote and settling in the spot next to TK.

TK shrugs, knowing that Carlos is just trying to appeal to him by offering to put on his favorite show. The other man doesn’t even like the show that much, often finding the humor dry and tasteless, but TK thinks he just doesn’t get it.

“Do you want to talk about what happened?”

There it is.

“I just can’t believe I did that in front of our new neighbors. They probably think I’m an idiot.”

“I’m sure no one thinks you’re an idiot, TK,” Carlos gently reassures him.

“Yeah all the neighbors saw me make an idiot of myself,” TK sighs exasperatedly. “God, how am I supposed to face these people everyday now?”

“Hate to break it to you babe, but this is not a valid reason for us to move.”

“I know,” he sighs again.

“Besides,” Carlos continues. “If your track record has proven anything, it’s that this won’t be the last medical emergency at our new home. It’s good that the neighbors are getting used to it now.”

TK gives him a pointed look.

“I’m pretty sure this is the second time you’ve fallen down the stairs since we’ve started dating,” Carlos says with a light chuckle.

“Whatever,” TK scoffs. “At least the other time it wasn’t in front of total strangers.”

Carlos softens. “That’s true. But I’m sure the neighbors just care about you. I don’t think this is that big of a deal, TK.”

“You weren’t there though. It was mortifying.”

“What did they say, exactly?”

TK nervously looks down. “They asked if I was okay. And if I needed any help.”

Carlos raises his eyebrow, waiting to see if TK continues. 

“They offered to call for help but I said no and went back inside.”

“See? They just care about you TK. I haven’t really talked to anyone yet but they seem like nice people.”

“I guess,” TK shrugs.

“I know, you’re still embarrassed. But if nothing else, they’ll probably forget about it by the next time we see them.”

“You don’t think I’ll be known as the ‘clumsy neighbor who can’t walk down stairs’?”

“Maybe the ‘cute clumsy neighbor that can’t walk down stairs,’” Carlos says with a smirk. “But we could always change that.”

TK cocks his head to the side. 

“You think our new neighbors might enjoy some peach scones when we go over and have a proper introduction?”

“You really plan to charm our new neighbors with your baking?” 

“You think it will work?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then yes, I do,” Carlos grins proudly. He then leans over and gently removes the ice pack from TK’s knee, grimacing at what he sees. “This still looks pretty swollen, babe. I think we need to go to the hospital.”

TK gives him a pained smile. “You sure I can’t talk my way out of this?”

“Nope,” Carlos says, popping the p. He stands up before extending his hand to help TK do the same.

TK accepts, shifting his weight and leaning into Carlos once he’s fully upright. 

“You know, I think you may have a paramedic blindspot when it comes to your own health.”

TK lets out a light laugh. “Yeah, I’ve been told.”

A week later, Carlos softly knocks on the door of Mrs. Bailey’s home across the street with one hand and a plate of peach scones in the other. TK had offered to hold the scones but when they went over to Mr. Martin's home earlier in the day, it was quickly discovered it was too difficult for him to manage getting up the stairs and holding the plate.

So he settles for letting Carlos do most of the work while he awkwardly limps up the stairs, leaning heavily on the railing to keep some pressure off his knee.

After their quick trip to the emergency room, it had been determined that TK’s initial assessment was right and it was just a bad sprain. He was given a brace to help reduce the pain and a pair of crutches, which (much to Carlos’ dismay) he abandoned after only two days, citing that they only made it harder to get around their home which he can now say for certain has too many damn stairs.

A problem which seems to follow him as he also has to get up the stairs to greet his neighbors.

“Maybe we should have moved to a neighborhood of single level homes,” he states with a wince as he joins Carlos at the front door.

Carlos snorts. “We can take it into consideration if we ever have to move again.”

“God, please don’t say that. I don’t want to think about moving ever again.”

“Good,” Carlos gives him a soft smile. “Because I’m planning on staying here for the long run.”

“Me too,” TK returns the smile just as Mrs. Bailey opens the door.

“What a lovely surprise!” she exclaims taking in the sight of the two men. 

“Hello ma’am,” Carlos says with a polite smile.

“We brought you some scones,” TK adds, gesturing to the plate in Carlos’ hands.

“Oh how thoughtful of you. Please come in. How are you doing?” she asks, turning to TK. “I’ve been worried.”

He exchanges a look with Carlos, the other man's face clearly saying I told you she cares, before turning back to Mrs. Bailey.

“I’m fine, ma’am. Thank you for asking. It’s just a bad sprain. But I do appreciate your concern, especially the other week.”

“Oh, of course dear,” she says with a warm smile. “Now, you boys aren’t going to make me eat these scones all by myself are you?”

"You didn’t think my flirting was lacking fifteen minutes into dancing with me," Carlos points out. "In fact, I don’t remember you complaining at all. All I remember is you being very vocal, but not for anything coherent."

TK blushes violently. He loves how they started off their relationship — passionate, dirty and intense — despite how it exploded in his bare hands before it even got a chance to blossom. "I'm not particularly proud of doubting your sexuality," he mutters.

"You weren’t doubting that," Carlos tells him, reading through him just like every other time. TK is starting to believe that spending so much time around Paul has rubbed off of Carlos. "You were doubting yourself. You didn’t think anyone could be interested in you."

TK looks down at his boyfriend, green wide eyes meeting warm chocolate. He shakes his head, his lips a thin line as he fights with himself for the right words to say. They're tricky, because he always finds it hard to express how he feels, but Carlos has never been anything but a safe haven to him. Someone to call him out on his shit, but also someone TK can fall back onto.

"I didn’t think I deserved someone like you," he confesses quietly. His hands have never stopped caressing Carlos' arm as his boyfriend remains the little spoon in his lap. "Luckily for you, I'm way past that."

Carlos smiles broadly up at him. "Well, that makes the both of us lucky," he tells TK, the seriousness in his voice betrayed by the happy glint in his eyes. "I got you."

TK hums, tightening his grip on Carlos' waist as he looks up, eyes getting lost in the distance. He tries to reign in his emotions, but the tears are already welling up and he doesn't know for how long he can keep them at bay. For how long he wants to keep them at bay.

He feels so safe with Carlos — he's already made peace with his past and accepted his struggles thanks to his boyfriend. TK knows deep in his bones that Carlos is the one for him. He wouldn’t be dusting off his Spanish and learning new expressions just for anyone, after all.

Carlos takes out the best of him — Carlos makes TK want to be better.

"I love you," he mutters, one tear finally making its way down his cheek.

"I love you too," Carlos replies just as easily, his fingers chasing down the tear and wiping it away.

TK nods, mostly to himself, as he thinks I'm going to marry this man one day, surprising himself as there's not an ounce of fear or panic in his mind.

He needs to make a decision.

“Okay, I’m going to open a window. Do you think you can make it to the bathroom and wet some towels?”

Carlos nods, heading towards the ensuite bathroom while TK climbs out of bed to head in the other direction towards one of the larger windows in the bedroom. As soon as his socked feet meet the floor, he can feel the heat burning below him and he tries to block out the weight of the situation laying heavy in his chest.

He can’t afford to think about how the home they were just beginning to build together is currently being destroyed by flames. Not when their own lives are still in danger. 

He quickly pads his way to the window, welcoming the sensation of fresh oxygen as he opens it. The smoke in the bedroom is only getting more dense and while the window provides some relief, it isn’t enough. His chest aches as he lurches into a coughing fit. 

The structure creaks below his feet, and he really starts to panic. He knows they are running on borrowed time.

“Are you okay?” he hears Carlos shout through the smoke appearing out of the bathroom with damp towels in hand.

“Yeah, are you?” 

Carlos doesn’t get a chance to answer before the home begins to creek again, this time more intense. And before TK even realizes what is happening, Carlos is gone, leaving only a hole in the floor where he stood just a few seconds ago.

“Carlos!” he shouts, trying to settle the panic in his chest when he doesn’t get a reply. “Carlos!” he tries again, his lungs spasming as he uses all the oxygen to project his voice, hoping to elicit some response from his boyfriend whom he can’t even see.

But he knows better than to try and get close to the hole in the floor. The entire floor is unstable now and one wrong move and could be down there with him. He quickly tries to weigh the pros and cons of that decision, getting close enough to see how badly Carlos is hurt while also risking getting hurt himself in the process.

He tries to take a few deep breaths to calm his racing thoughts but to no avail. He knows he’s only inhaling more smoke and depriving his lungs of what it really needs. His thoughts only become more fuzzy as the room gets hotter. And before he can make any decision, his vision is swallowed by blackness.

TK wakes up to bright lights and the sensation of not being able to breathe properly. He’s aware enough to know that it’s because he is currently intubated, but his brain doesn’t appear to get the message as he still tries to breathe on his own and panicking when he can’t.

His eyes wide and alert, there’s a flurry of activity around him and hushed voices telling him to remain calm. He can’t make out who is there with him, but the familiar voices do provide a sense of reassurance. And before he knows it, the darkness overtakes him again. 

The next time he comes to, he finds it much easier to breathe. The lights don’t seem to be as bright, and with the help of a nasal cannula looped around his nose he doesn’t feel like he’s gasping for oxygen that isn’t there.

As his eyes adjust to the hospital room, he spots his father sitting in the chair next to his bed reading something on his phone. He startles when he glances up and notices TK staring at him but quickly composes himself. “Hey, how do you feel, son?”

“Tired,” he croaks out, voice still raw from the tube that had been taken out not too long ago. In the silence that follows, the memories flood back into his brain of the moments that led to this. Images of flames flickering in their home and dense smoke filling their bedroom, and of - “Where’s Carlos?” he meets Owen’s eye, his heart pounding in his chest as he tries not to assume the worst.

“He’s okay,” Owen is quick to answer and TK finally lets out a sigh of relief. “The firefighters that responded were able to get to him, and to you quite quickly. You’re lucky you’re only dealing with smoke inhalation, not too serious but the doctors will probably want to keep you another night for observation.”

TK absentmindedly nods, though he can’t help but notice his father isn’t going into detail on Carlos’ condition. “And Carlos?” he asks, unable to stand another moment of not knowing how his boyfriend is doing. 

“Hanging in there,” Owen says carefully. “He took quite a hit from the fall. Shattered his right leg and broke his back.”

TK stiffens. “Is he-?”

“There wasn’t any damage to the spinal cord, thankfully,” Owen answers, and TK relaxes at that. 

“Is he awake?”

“Last I heard he was in and out of consciousness. His parents are with him now and have been keeping me updated.”

“Okay, that’s good,” TK nods. “Do they know what caused the fire?”

TK doesn’t miss the way Owen stiffens at the question. He braces himself, not knowing if it’s just because he’s bringing up why they are both in the hospital in the first place or if there’s something more to it. 

“OFI originally had reason to believe it was arson,” Owen says, and TK now realizes why his dad reacted the way he did. Just a few days ago he had listened as Owen recounted what he believed to be a serial arsonist targeting different locations around the city. And at the time TK didn’t think much of it beyond urging his dad that he should be taking it easy during his recovery from the tumor removal.

Now hearing Owen reveal that the fire in their home could have been related to that, his heart begins to beat just a little faster as his brain takes off with thoughts of why this could have happened and if it only did because his dad got involved.

“However, the investigation wrapped up this morning and concluded that that was not the case,” Owen continues, preventing any more negative thoughts from forming in TK’s head. 

“What?” TK asks, unsure if he even heard correctly. “Then what did cause it?”

“Electrical,” Owen says, looking down nervously at his hands. “Probably caused by an appliance being left plugged in in the kitchen.”

Marlon Blendo.

“Oh, dad. I-“

Owen cuts him off with a wave. “It’s okay, TK. I’m just glad you two made it out alive.”

“Yeah, but I know that blender was important to you.”

“You and Carlos are important to me. Marlon Blendo was an appliance,” Owen says with a genuine smile. “An appliance that made very good smoothies, I will say. But an appliance that can be replaced, nonetheless.”

TK returns the smile, not missing how his dad mentioned Carlos is just as important to him. In the past, Owen’s relationships with TK’s boyfriends have never been great. But it didn’t take long at all to see the difference in how he got along with Carlos, his dad essentially seeing him as another son.

“I want to see Carlos,” he says after a few beats of silence.

“If the doctor’s discharge you tomorrow, I’m sure we can work something out.”

“No, I need to see him now.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, TK. You need to be resting” Owen says, trying to lay him down gently but TK does not want to hear it.

“We can ask the nurse to get a wheelchair,” TK looks at him with pleading eyes. “Please, dad.”

Owen looks like he wants to argue more but his face soon softens and he nods. Soon enough, he is wheeled up to Carlos’ room and told he has an hour before a nurse will return to take him back to his own room, citing some reason about his doctors not wanting him to be off oxygen for too long.

Carlos is asleep when he enters the room, unnaturally still with his casted leg propped up on a pillow. TK hates that even with Carlos’ eyes closed, he can tell how much pain the other man is in.

He doesn’t waste much time before reaching for his boyfriend's hand, gently rubbing circles with his thumb on the back of Carlos’ palm. The action is enough to rouse the sleeping man, who blinks at TK a few times before smiling. 

“Hey,” Carlos says sleepily, letting his eyes roam over TK’s body, searching for any visible injuries. “Are you okay?”

“Better than you, pretty sure,” TK attempts to likely joke but even his own words bring an ache to his chest. The weight of the situation starts to settle in, now seeing Carlos laid up in his hospital bed. “Carlos, I’m so sorry,” he starts to say but Carlos cuts him off with a shake of his head.

“I don’t want you to apologize, TK. None of this is your fault. I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” TK’s voice cracks with desperation. “I was the one who told you to head to the bathroom, and I should have-”

“No,” Carlos cuts him off again. “We both made it out alive, and that’s all that matters.”

TK shakily nods, agreeing with Carlos on the outside but unable to stop the guilt from blooming inside his chest. Carlos is hurt, more than TK is, and as much as Carlos tries to deny it, TK knows it’s his fault.

For the fourth night in a row, TK lies wide awake as Carlos peacefully sleeps beside him. 

At first it had been easy to hide after they were released from the hospital and settled into their temporary home back at his father’s house. With the adrenaline still coursing through his veins he didn’t feel like he could sleep even if he wanted to. But as the days passed, he found it harder to explain the dark circles forming under his eyes and low energy throughout the day.

And still he continues to lay awake, waiting for sleep to take pity on him. 

Part of him is jealous that sleep appears to come easier to Carlos. He knows that the other man is just as affected, if not more than he is. With his broken leg and back injury, it has been hard for Carlos to find comfortable positions after being discharged from the hospital.

But Carlos also had the luxury of being prescribed medication to help manage the pain. And while he was hesitant to accept it at first, TK had encouraged it, saying that he would be fine because Carlos needed it. 

And he would be fine. 

Except there’s still a part of him that envied Carlos for being able to easily mask the pain with one small pill.

Because while Carlos peacefully sleeps, TK is plagued with memories of the fire that took their home not even a week ago. 

Sometimes it plays out exactly how it happened, which only serves the guilt to settle more in his chest. Other times it happens with slight variations. Visions of him being the one to fall through the floor instead, or them both making it out unscathed.

The last one hurts the most. The idea that there could have been a way for both of them to walk out of it without injury. But the pained wimpers coming from beside him serve as an aching reminder of what did happen. 

It hurt TK more than he was willing to admit seeing Carlos in so much pain and knowing it’s his fault. Not that Carlos would ever admit it, brushing it off every time TK would try to bring it up. But TK knows the truth. Even with all of his firefighter training, he wasn’t able to get them out unharmed. Not to mention he was the reason why Carlos fell through the floor.

He should have been the one to go to the bathroom and wet the towels. Or he should have forgotten the towels altogether, considering it probably would have only bought them a few seconds anyway. 

Night after night he gets stuck in this spiral of “what-if’s,” unable to shut off his brain enough to get the rest he so badly needs.

Another louder whimper comes from beside him, breaking him from his thoughts.

“Baby?” he calls softly, not wanting to wake Carlos if he wasn’t already, but also wanting to make sure he was okay if he is awake.

“Sorry,” Carlos whispers back. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

TK doesn’t have to see his face to sense the wince on Carlos’ face, pain clearly evident in his voice. “It’s okay, I was already awake. I’m sorry you’re hurting.”

“We’ve talked about this, babe. You having nothing to apologize for.”

“But I do. It was my fault that you got hurt and maybe if I-“

“TK, stop,” Carlos cuts him off. He tries to say it gently, but TK can sense the annoyance in his voice. 

It’s the same conversation they have had a few times now and it always ended the same way; with TK trying to apologize and Carlos calmly explaining why the apology wasn’t necessary. It was no wonder his patience was running out and TK knew it was only a matter of time before Carlos snapped. 

And by the sound of it, that’s exactly what was happening.

“Can we not do this now? In the middle of the night? I just need the pain to stop and to go back to sleep.”

TK nods, even though he’s well aware Carlos can’t see the motion in the darkness of their bedroom (well, their temporary bedroom at Owen’s house). It’s a good thing, considering that means the other man also can’t see the tears welling in TK’s eyes. “I’ll go get your meds.”

He hears Carlos sigh and takes that an okay, pushing himself out of bed and making his way down the hall to the bathroom.

He rifles through the medicine cabinet before pulling out Carlos’ prescription and shaking two capsules out of the bottle. The bright white pills contrast against his palm and he can’t bring himself to look away.

TK once again finds himself envious of Carlos’ ability to take these pills to begin with; To have the power to soften the pain in two tiny capsules. 

Without a second thought, he slides the pills into his pajama bottoms before shaking out another two replacement pills into his palm. He then fills up a disposable cup of water and turns off the light.

The next hours pass by in a haze, tossing and turning until the pills in his pocket are forgotten. TK realizes he must have fallen asleep at some point indicated by the light filtering through the blinds, casting a soft warm glow into the bedroom.

Not wanting to wake Carlos still sleeping beside him, but also not able to spend another minute laying in bed, he carefully gets up and makes his way through the hall and down the stairs, into the kitchen.

“Good morning,” Owen says, all too cheerfully for the morning hour. 

“Morning,” he replies while grabbing his coffee mug and filling it to the brim.

“How did you sleep?”

TK shrugs. It’s the same dance they do everyday. His father definitely knows him well enough to see how much he’s been struggling since the fire, yet he never pushes enough to get TK to talk.

“Do you want some pancakes? I got fresh blueberries yesterday at the market that I could throw in the batter.”

He considers it, knowing full well that his dad is trying to get him to talk using his favorite breakfast meal. But he also thinks if he tries to eat anything, he’s going to throw up. “I’m good with coffee right now. Maybe I’ll have a bowl of cereal in a bit.”

“TK,” Owen trails off. “Do I need to be worried about you?”

TK glances down, staring at his hands, unable to meet his dad’s eye. In the past when he had been asked that question, the simple no had always been able to roll easily off his tongue, regardless of whether or not it was true. But this morning feels different. He doesn’t feel cornered, but there is a part of him that wants to say yes. With just one word he’d be able to let out all of the emotions he has been bottling up for days, even months going back before the fire.

“Have you gone to any meetings lately?”

That gets TK’s attention. “No,” he says, looking up shyly. “I mean I’ve been a little busy taking care of Carlos and trying to get everything sorted out with insurance and just,” he sighs. They’re weak excuses, he knows. While that stuff is important, he’s also aware that his recovery should come first and he’s been looking for any excuse not to take care of himself, to avoid opening up the bottle of his emotions.

“You should. Why don’t I drive you to one today?” Owen offers.

“No, someone needs to stay with Carlos-”

“And there’s been dozens of people asking what they can do to help you guys out that I’m sure would love to hang out with him this afternoon. If Mateo won’t be around, I can ask Grace or Paul, or anyone from the station if they are available.”

TK nods, knowing there’s no way to get out of this. This is Owen’s polite way of letting him know that he knows TK needs help and if he’s not going to talk him or Carlos, he needs to talk to someone. 

“Good. I’m proud of you. You’ve come a long way in your recovery in the past 18 months,” Owen offers him a smile but the words hit TK like a punch in the gut. 

He quickly shoves his hands in his pockets and freezes when he feels the familiar texture of the forgotten pills shoved hastily in there in a moment of weakness last night. 

Owen studies him carefully. “Are you okay?”

He takes a few deep breaths, trying to calm his racing thoughts before his face can betray that his father really did have a legitimate reason to be concerned. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just going to go see if Carlos is awake.”

Owen nods, appearing to accept TK’s response. TK flashes him a smile before filling up a glass of water to bring up to Carlos and hoping that his father doesn’t notice the way his hands shake as he holds it under the faucet. 

“Come back down when you’re ready to eat. The pancakes will be waiting for you,” Owen calls as TK climbs the stairs.

TK doesn’t answer, moving through the hallway until he reaches their bedroom and softly knocks on the door before pushing it open. He expects to find Carlos still sleeping soundly on the bed, but instead sees him attempting to push himself out of bed, a pained grimace painted on his face.

“What are you doing?” TK rushes over to him, guiding him gently back into the bed so he is sitting back against the headboard. “You’re not supposed to get out of bed without help.”

While Carlos isn’t technically on bedrest, it is harder for him to get around. He was given crutches for his broken leg, but using them puts a lot of stress on his injured back. TK can tell that the lack of mobility is starting to get to him. 

“I was thirsty,” Carlos shrugs, flashing him a sheepish grin. 

TK resists the urge to roll his eyes at that. “Well you can relax now, I brought you water,” he says, handing the glass over to Carlos. “And my dad is making pancakes if you want to try to get out of bed, with help this time.”

“That sounds good.”

“Good,” TK replies and they exchange smiles. Though he can’t help but notice the tension that still looms in the air from their last interaction. It clearly doesn’t go unnoticed by Carlos as well, whose smile soon drops at the shift in mood.

“Listen, TK, I’m sorry for kind of snapping at you last night. I was just tired, and in pain, and I didn’t mean to take it out on you,” Carlos sighs, taking TK’s hands in his. “These past few days haven’t been easy for either of us and you’ve taken such great care of me. I want you to know how much I appreciate it. I love you.”

TK can’t help the tears that well in his eyes at Carlos’ words. His heart threatens to beat out of his chest, both at the tenderness of the moment and in panic of wanting to admit to Carlos what he’s done. He came in the room prepared to come clean, but now feels almost as though he doesn’t deserve the kind words. He doesn’t deserve this happiness that he came so close to throwing all away.

“Babe?” Carlos questions softly.

“I took some of your pills,” TK blurts out, spitting the words out in the air before he can change his mind and take them back. Carlos’ eyes widen in panic and TK quickly shakes his head. “Well, okay I didn’t actually take them. I just,” he sighs, reaching into his pocket and holding out the pills in his palm.

“TK,” Carlos trails off. He doesn’t sound disappointed, but TK can’t help the panic that arises as he tries to figure out how to justify what he did now that Carlos knows.

“It’s just been so hard, you know? I know you don’t want to talk about it, and I get why. I mean, I don’t want to talk about it either. But no matter how many times I’m told it wasn’t my fault, the guilt still doesn’t leave, and it’s suffocating. I’m sorry, I know you’re probably tired of having this conversation but I don’t know what happened last night. I just hit a point where I didn’t know what else to do and I’m sorry I can’t be stronger for you.”

The silence that hangs in the air after TK’s word vomit is deafening. He takes some deep breaths, waiting for Carlos to say something. When more than a few seconds pass, TK can’t help but open his mouth again. “I’m so sorry, Carlos. I wish I could handle this better but I just keep bottling it up. I understand if you are mad, but you should know I’m going to a meeting this afternoon and I think-“

“TK,” Carlos cuts off his rambling this time. “I’m not mad at you. In fact, I think I’ve been bottling a lot of things up too, so that’s something we both need to work on. I’m just trying to figure out why you think I would be and why you think you’re not strong.”

“Because I took your pills,” he says quietly. “I almost relapsed.”

“Almost. But you didn’t. Instead you came to me and told me about it. And if you’re already planning on going to a meeting? That’s great, babe,” Carlos smiles and grabs his hands, squeezing them reassuringly.

“The meeting was my dad’s idea. I haven’t told him.”

“That’s okay. You still agreed to it, and you don’t have to tell him yet if you’re not ready. But whenever you are, I can be there with you if you want. I know he will understand.”

TK gives a small nod.

“Hey,” Carlos grabs his attention, tilting his head up gently. “I am proud of you, you know. And I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” TK gives him a genuine smile.

“Is there anything else I can do that will help you out?”

“Maybe, we could give your pills to my dad to hold onto? Just for a few days,” he says quietly, almost ashamed to admit but knowing it’s for the best.

“I can just get rid of them, I don’t think I need them,” Carlos responds far too quickly.

“Absolutely not. It’s only been a few days, and I can see how much pain you’re still in.”

Carlos nods. “Okay, then we will talk to your dad about it.”