#userjillian

The results flooded in, blue titles lining his screen. He mindlessly scrolled through the first few.

A link to his instagram profile. His twitter. The wikipedia page for his band. Links to music videos.

Rescue Crew makes an Incredible Comeback with their New Album ‘In the Unlikely Event of an Emergency’ 

Up and Coming Rockstar Heartthrob TK Strand Talks Writing, Touring, and Relationships

New Face of Modern Metal? An Interview with Rescue Crew's Frontman TK Strand

Rescue Crew Sells Out North American Tour in Minutes

Talkin’ Rock with TK Strand of Rescue Crew

They were all the same thing, music pages talking about monumental success, their hiatus, interviews with the band, and the map for their tour. 

Then there were other titles that garnered his interest, but not enough to click on them. 

PRIDE EXCLUSIVE: Rescue Crew's TK Strand Opens Up about Being Openly Gay in the Metal Scene

Trouble in Paradise? Rescue Crew’s Bassist Departs from the Band–Is His Relationship with the Singer Over?

Rescue Crew Preparing for a New Release with only TK Strand left of the Original Band.

TK Strand: “It’s been a long two years, but I’m back and better than ever”

The second page of his search yielded much of the same results–almost every link talking about the same event, all dated within a day or two from each other. They were a lot more chilling as Carlos’ eyes ran over the text on his screen. 

Gone was the talk of music and concerts, upcoming releases or band drama. 

BREAKING NEWS: Rescue Crew’s TK Strand Hospitalised Following Overdose. Condition Unknown

A Brush with Death; TK Strand's Overdose–All You Need to Know

BREAKING Rescue Crew's World Tour Cancelled due to Singer's Hospitalisation

Has Drug Culture in Music Gone Too Far? TK Strand found Overdosed in NYC Apartment

It wasn’t what Carlos had expected to see in his search. The word “overdose” repeated over and over, articles all mentioning it in some shape or form. Overwhelmed by the plethora of information at his fingertips, he clicked on a random one, unable to ignore what he had stumbled into, needing to know more.

He didn’t care for TK, in fact, he loathed the man. But this seemed really serious and there was a small part of his brain that was begging him to read on, to make sure that the arrogant and grandiose man he had met was okay. 

When he wasn’t volunteering his time for the night shift, Carlos would frequently spend his time in the library well into the night, prone to being a night owl. He almost always tries to tuck himself away against one of the far tables against the back wall to minimise distractions but on this occasion he was he was forced to find a table smack bang in the middle of the library.

Hunched over with his books neatly stacked on the table in front of him, marking a barrier for anyone who would choose to share the four seater table with him. Carlos was 4 books deep into Native American anthologies for research for the overarching assignment that he had to progressively work on throughout the rest of the semester, and it was kicking his ass. At this point the words were becoming a blurred mess and he was regretting not having page tags to reference to later.

It was as he slouched down in his seat and tipped his head back with an exhausted sigh when a throat was quietly clears beside him.

“You look like you could do with a pick me up.”

Rolling his head to the side, he found the source of the voice. A mirthful looking TK holding out what looked to be a blueberry muffin. He sat up at the discovery in surprise neither responding to TK or accepting the proffered muffin still in TK’s extended hand.

It wasn’t until TK prompted him by shaking the muffin with raised eyebrows. He thanked TK and watched him as he set the muffin down in front of him and with some small amount of dramatics, pulled out the seated opposite him and dropped into it unceremoniously.

Wordlessly Carlos raised his eyebrows at him and stared at him pointedly, causing TK’s contented face to fall to that of nervousness upon seeing the look.

“I’m sorry, do you mind if I study with you? I couldn’t find any free tables.”

Carlos shrugged, “Well, how could say no when I just accepted a muffin bribe?”

“I could take it back and leave if you’d rather.”

Carlos snatched the muffin from the table as TK pretended to reach for it, “No!” he said sharply, “You can stay. Only if you’re quiet of course.”

Briefly, Carlos wondered if Grace had hit her head on the doorframe as she walked in. From what he had experienced of the band, even if that was only TK, they seemed like the perfect people to be rockstars. The kind of people who lavished attention and attracted even more of it with their wild and outlandish personalities. Extroverts, for sure.

“Tell that to their annoying frontman,” Carlos said with a groan. 

“I’ll admit, TK is an acquired taste but he’s nice enough.”

Carlos rolled his eyes as he stepped into the café behind Grace, letting the door fall shut behind him. “Whatever you say.”

“The band comes through Austin every few months at the most, you can put up with him for a night or two. He’s not that bad, and he’s been through a lot.”

What did that mean? Been through a lot? Carlos couldn’t fathom anything that could turn someone into such a prick, and Carlos had only interacted with him a handful of times. Renowned for his patience and understanding with pretty much everyone, only a collective few minutes of time with TK Strand was enough to rub him the wrong way. 

Carlos let their conversation die there, after all, he had nothing to add. 

The café was a quaint little spot, one that wasn’t frequented much as it wasn’t close to a main road so the line was always short. It had been Carlos’ go-to coffee spot for years now, many of the baristas getting to know him fairly well when he stopped by for a latte. 

He was known to recommend it to everyone if they wanted to catch up with friends or family over a coffee or pastry. The atmosphere was nice, the music always different whenever he visited, courtesy of the baristas being allowed to play their own playlists over the soft speakers. It added personality and a liveliness to the space.

But today it was busier than he had ever seen it, almost every table occupied and the staff a blur of motion behind the counter. 

Carlos was about to suggest that they go somewhere else, to save the baristas the trouble for today but he was interrupted before he could even open his mouth. 

“Gracie?” 

His eyes met Judd first, his tall stature making him a focal point, before Carlos’ gaze fell to the group behind him. Leather jackets, spikes, chains, and all of the black hair dye in Travis County–Rescue Crew was here. 

Which is probably why he was standing at the altar with his friends, staring at the empty spot in front of him where Carlos was meant to have been standing fifteen minutes ago. 

Carlos had their entire wedding planned out to the minute, had even written it out on the whiteboard that hung next to the fridge; the guests were to be seated by 10:45, TK walked down the aisle with Owen at 11:00, he was supposed to walk down the aisle at 11:03, get to the end of it at 11:04. 

It was 11:19 and the music played through long ago. This was a bit more than just missing his cue. 

Gabriel had taken a tentative seat at the end of the back row, his phone in his hands. He was supposed to walk his son down the aisle today, but there had been no sign of him. 

Everyone was equally as confused. 

Paul had seen Carlos not even an hour ago, and had helped him get ready. Carlos wanted to take a car by himself, so Paul had left the loft only a matter of minutes earlier. 

Mind awhir, TK couldn’t seem to gather his bearings. So he stayed where he was, exchanging the odd glance with Paul or Nancy, but he dared not move. Murmurs spread throughout their guests like wildfire–Carlos was supposed to be here.

He figured that after everything, he owed Carlos the benefit of the doubt, after all, he had never so much as stood TK up for a date, so he really didn’t think he’d bail on their wedding ceremony. But the whispers and prying looks were making him sweat, his skin clinging too tightly to his frame, like if he made one wrong move he’d split apart. 

The next time he caught Paul’s eye, he whispered “where is he?” hoping, somewhat in vain, that Carlos’ best man would have a clue as to where he was. 

Paul just offered him the same wide-eyed look that everyone else was giving him as he shrugged. “I don’t know, man.” 

Great. This was great. 

TK didn’t want to doubt Carlos’ commitment to him but when you’re standing at the altar and your groom was supposed to walk down the aisle fifteen minutes ago, it’s kind of hard to not feel like you’ve been stood up.

It would be better if Carlos had texted, said that he would be late, if he had told TK that he was getting cold feet. Hell, they could’ve postponed or called off the wedding entirely and TK would be completely willing to tell everyone that it was because of him, that he wasn’t ready because of his past. Anything would have been a vast improvement on this current situation. 

He dared not look at the guests, couldn’t even fathom locking eyes with Andrea and Gabriel. 

There were so many sets of prying eyes. He knew if he looked towards the seating, he would find his friends and family bearing similarly confused and concerned looks, no one would’ve thought Carlos would be late. It was more of his thing to be anxiously early to everything, Nancy had cracked a joke earlier about how it was a shock that Carlos hadn’t camped out at the venue just in case the sky caved in and he missed his cue with the music.

Carlos wasn’t Alex but TK was starting to see a resemblance. 

But that wasn’t right. Carlos was a kind man, one so full of love for everything in the world around him, and so much of his love had always been reserved for TK. He must have a good reason to not be at his own wedding. 

The same wedding they had spent countless nights hand-lettering every single invitation for, that had 32 cake testers because it had to be perfect. And yet, the three-tiered cake was here and Carlos was not.  

As TK stood, groomless on his wedding day, he hoped that Carlos had a really really good reason.

-

With a groan, Carlos was hurtled unceremoniously back into awareness. 

The first thing he picked up on was the noise, a cacophony of it that he recognised only as the chaos of an emergency.

He'd done traffic control at pileup scenes enough to know what it sounded like. The scraping of metal against metal, horns, the hiss of steaming cars, the whoosh of deflating airbags. 

He also had half a mind to realise that he was currently in a car that was not moving, and yet was surrounded by this noise. Something had happened.

Something bad because he didn't get a response even as he shook the shoulder of the driver. He wasn't even driving, there was dirt and blood on the edge of his white sleeve–those stains wouldn't come out–but he dimly recognized it as his wedding suit. 

He was supposed to be getting married, this didn't look like an exchange of vows with the love of his life.

But there wasn't anything he could do about it now. 

There was a tiny part of his brain that thought he saw smoke, it was screaming at him that he was in danger, but he’d had enough TK explaining both fire and medical things to last him a lifetime. The car wasn’t on fire, airbags often let out dust as they deployed. 

"Hey, sir, are you alright?" he tried again, unbuckling his seatbelt and sliding across the backseat to sit behind the driver. 

Still nothing.

He reached forward, hovering his hand just in front of the driver's mouth, breathing a sigh of relief only when there was a push of warm air against his skin.

Knowing there was a whole lot that he couldn’t do, Carlos mentally rolled through the checklist of things he could. 

The driver was breathing, but unconscious, which meant his airway wasn't being managed. At any point his head could tilt to the wrong angle and he would suffocate.

TK's voice was clear in his mind, reminding him that although he couldn't lie the driver down and turn him on his side, that Carlos could still help keep him alive. 

Properly slotting himself in the seat behind the driver, he reached both hands around the headrest and carefully took hold of the driver's head. His hand came into contact with a stickiness that he recognised as blood before he even saw the red on his fingers.

"If you manage his airway for him and he dies then there's nothing you could've done to prevent it. Mass casualty events suck and they're hard to stomach but that's why there is triage, we save as many lives as we can," came TK's voice in his head. For what wasn’t the first and certainly wouldn't be the last time, Carlos was thankful for his fiancé's tendency to ramble.

All he could do was tilt the driver's head back and hold it steady, hoping that help got to them soon.

Or at least, he could try to bring help to them a little faster. 

Carlos patted down his pockets, but failed to find his phone. It had likely been flung somewhere in the crash. He could always look for it later, but instead of wasting time, he could just flag down emergency services that were undoubtedly en route, if not already on scene. 

Trying to open the door on the driver’s side of the vehicle proved useless, and a quick glance out the window explained why the hood of a red car was pressed against it, the paint splintering and cracking as the bonnet folded under the force of the impact. 

The other side was just as stuck, the window completely blocked out by what looked like the side of a van. How big was this crash? 

How many people were hurt, or worse?

He was fine. He was conscious. He'd be a little late but he was going to make it to his wedding. 

He was ripe with energy, adrenaline lining the walls of his veins with every pump of his heart, he was going to help as much as he could and then he was going to marry TK Strand. 

They were going to hyphenate their names and be insufferable about it–Carlos had already submitted his application for new uniform pieces with Strand-Reyes emblazoned across them in big lettering. 

Every time he went out on a call from now on he would take TK with him. No matter where he was or who he was with, he would always carry that part of TK that he had been so lucky to have shared with him–he would wear TK’s name as his own and TK would do the same. 

He wouldn’t let TK down. Not ever, but especially not on a day like this.

They picked a hell of a day to have a massive pile-up, with Austin’s finest firefighters and paramedics taking the day off to watch him and TK promise themselves to each other–until death do them part. 

Even his father was at the venue. There was nowhere better to be if you felt like having an emergency than that aisle Carlos had yet to walk down, but he was here, sandwiched between cars and unsure of what more he could do. 

He’d never been in a car accident in his life. It was nothing like he had imagined. He wasn’t even sure what he had imagined, by the time he saw wrecks, fire and medical were swarming the scene; help had arrived. 

Sure, he’d watched firecrews rip cars apart, but they had equipment, gear and training. 

Carlos was a patrol officer in a white suit jacket, trapped in a steel cage of his own.

Some part of him, a deep enough recess of his brain that he didn’t even know he had, knew how to get out of the car. It wasn’t by opening the doors or slamming his elbow into the tempered glass until either the window or his bones shattered. 

He made quick work of removing the headrest from the passenger’s seat, pausing only to check for the soft rise and fall of the driver’s chest. Once he was sure the driver was still alive, he returned to the window behind him. 

It was the only one he could get to and feasibly get out of if he did manage to break the glass.

With the headrest in his hands, he forced the two metal pegs down, flush against the window and into the junction between glass and door. He tucked his legs underneath him, pushing himself up so he could drive the headrest down as far as he possibly could. 

Satisfied that he couldn’t get it any further, he pulled the top of the headrest back towards him, and a weblike fracture quickly consumed the glass. 

At that point it was easy enough to use the headrest again to push the glass outwards, the crystalline shards falling mostly outside of the vehicle. 

There was an exit, he was no longer trapped as he brushed away the few remaining shards in the edge of the door and pulled himself up and out of the vehicle. 

His jacket caught on some of the glass that was still in place, a sharp rip hitting the air, but Carlos paid it no mind.

Standing on top of the red cars mangled bonnet was an experience all on its own, the ability to survey the damage surrounding him, the massive pile-up of cars clogging the motorway. 

They were far from the edge of the carnage, but like the red paint crunching under his dress shoes, he could see a firetruck not too far off, crew already spilling out. 

“Please!” he shouted, waving his arms. “We need help over here!”

-

It took another five minutes before TK closed his eyes, dragged in a shaky breath and said “fuck this”. 

He was halfway back down the aisle before anyone even moved. 

Hastily, he swiped his tears away and continued, ignoring the various attempts to get his attention. 

Carlos stood him up. 

Left him at the end of the aisle, standing at the altar with a lovesick grin thinking this was the happiest day of his life, until Carlos never showed up. 

It felt like a sick joke. After all, what heartbreak could possibly be worse and more embarrassing than having his proposal declined in the middle of a crowded New York restaurant? 

This. This was infinitely worse. 

This wasn't a gaggle of strangers gossiping and gawking. The people he loved and who loved him, who believed that he was finally getting his long overdue goodness from life, had just watched the life he'd spent his whole time in Austin building, crumble.

He had no idea where he was going, just opted to duck through every door and archway he could find until he no longer felt the heavy gazes of worried eyes that followed him. The second he found silence he pressed himself up against the wall, his tears coming through along with forceful sobs as he sank to the ground. 

Nancy was the first to find him.

Of course she was.

He was confident that she had been waiting for his next move. After all, what are you even meant to do when you’re left at the altar?

Standing there like an idiot for twenty minutes, expecting–believing–that Carlos would walk down that aisle and meet him there. Only for everyone else to get more restless and his smile become one that was forced for image and not because he was elated to be marrying the love of his life. 

They’d been through hell together, almost been torn apart so many times, and yet they always found their way back to each other. This didn’t make sense, why would Carlos wait until now to give up on him?

“Dude, you took off like a bat out of hell,” Nancy said, panting slightly. It was an attempt to lighten the mood, her usual go-to, but it hit dead air and fizzled out. 

He didn’t even have words, couldn’t begin to turn his thoughts and feelings into a sentence, so he just buried his face in his knees and sobbed. 

Wretched tears, ones not unlike he had shed over his mother’s death. 

It was an agony that made him feel like he was being eaten alive. 

Nancy was on the floor with him now, offering a comforting hand rubbing along his shoulders. But he wished, harder than he ever had, that his mother was here with him.

She would have known what to say, she always did. They would’ve sat on the floor and she would have comforted him in a way that only a mother–his mother–could, and then, after making sure he was okay as he could be, she would’ve ripped Carlos to shreds.

Maybe not literally. She had always been very fond of Carlos.

“I’m sure there’s a good reason, TK,” Nancy offered, her voice smaller and softer than he had ever heard it. He was borderline hysterical at this point, shaking and crying, wetness seeping into his tailored dress pants. 

“He-” a desperate jagged gasp. “He left me!” there was no force, no bite in his tone, just the pain constricting his chest. 

Bridesmaid duties typically did not involve missing grooms and meltdowns but Nancy was taking it in stride as she pulled him into a hug. “Paul is going to call him again. Hell, I think everyone is going to call him. We’ll figure this out.” 

Logically, TK knew that Carlos would never do this to him, at least not without a good reason. Carlos had never been one to deliver any less than 100% regardless of what the task was. He wouldn’t do something like this, not to TK, not after everything they had been through just to be together. 

But TK wasn’t thinking with his logical brain, he was thinking with his brain that loved Carlos more than life itself and saw the empty place at the altar as the worst thing on Earth. A pain that lapped the solar system and then some. 

He had no idea what he was meant to do. 

There was a seating arrangement full of people he loved, yet none of them were Carlos. 

Even as he struggled to draw in adequate breaths, each one coming faster and harder than the last, he couldn’t help but wonder where his fiancé was. 

Never had it really felt like they were worlds apart until this very moment.

-

Realistically, Carlos knew that the fire crew were doing everything they could. It was a mess of a situation and there was barely any room to stand between any of the cars, most of those spaces taken up by whoever could get out of their cars. 

There were drivers yelling at each other, people trying to comfort their loved ones, even the sounds of crying children. Carlos’ heart was in his throat as he tried to gauge the situation.

He wasn’t on the clock, he wasn’t even in uniform, but he wanted to help. 

Unfortunately the best thing he could do was stay near the car he had been in, keeping an eye on the still unconscious driver as he waited for rescue crews to get that far into the carnage. 

At least from his current position, he could count the cars involved in the pile-up. Seven of them. 

And yet he was standing in the dead centre of it, unsure of what the first collison was. 

Try as he might, he couldn’t seem to remember the moments leading up to the crash. He was in the car, and the next thing he knew he was stirring amidst chaos. 

Which was probably a bad sign, it indicated that he had probably lost consciousness and suffered some kind of head injury, but he felt fine. He would be fine, he would get out of this. 

He was a bit confused to see the 126’s truck and ambulance pull up and for none of its usual crew to spill out. Obviously he’d seen the other members of the house before, both at the station and in the field. But it felt weird somehow, seeking to lock eyes with his fiancé and finding not a single familiar face–at least not any he could put a name to. 

He missed TK, he wanted to see him.

TK would make being at the scene of this kind of disaster a whole lot easier to stomach.

But TK wasn’t here–maybe he had the day off, Carlos idly wondered–so Carlos was on his own. He flagged down the nearest firefighter. 

“Please, can you help? The driver is unconscious, he’s stuck in here.” 

It was weird to think that someone else had been driving him, someone whose name he couldn’t seem to recall, but the mystery didn’t matter because the driver was unconscious and definitely injured. He needed help. 

“Please,” Carlos started again. “Please help, he’s hurt.” 

“Sir, calm down, we’ll get him out.” 

Despite knowing with utmost certainty that the firefighter was just trying to keep things calm, and keep Carlos from unintentionally interfering, it still felt condescending to be spoken to like that. It was normal, they all did it on the job, but on the other side he felt like telling this other man that he wasn’t an idiot. 

He was a cop, he wouldn’t have a meltdown in the face of something like this. He had more experience than that, he’d watched people die and still maintained his composure–he wasn’t a civilian, he was a professional. 

He was about to say something when someone placed a hand on his shoulder. He jumped, turning around to come face-to-face with a member of the 126’s B-shift. 

Some man, taller than him with a soft smile and wisps of dark hair peeking out from underneath his helmet. He had a comforting energy to him, which is probably why he was the one speaking now. 

“Come with me, we can get medical to check you out while my team works on the rescue side of things, hmm?” 

Knowing that anything else would just be fighting a losing battle, Carlos relented, allowing the firefighter to guide the way back towards the crew vehicles. 

The firefighter helped Carlos climb over a few car bonnets and weave his way through other tight spaces as they made their way out of the wreckage. Looking around, Carlos hadn’t realised how many crews had actually shown up. There were flashing lights coming from every direction, at least four fire engines, and countless more ambulances. 

A mass casualty event. 

That’s why the firefighter could be spared to take him out of the way, there were fire crews crawling all over the scene. Undoubtedly spread thin, but they needed to evacuate the patients who could walk on their own. 

Reaching a hand out and grasping Carlos’ forearm, the firefighter steadied him as he hopped down off of the final bonnet, a blue car that looked sickenly like his camaro. It wasn't, of course, that beautiful beast parked safely at the loft, away from anything that could so much as scratch the paint. 

“You’re dressed pretty fancy, where were you headed?” 

Carlos stopped, his steps faltering quite jarringly as he looked down at himself. White suit jacket covered in mess, a few rips and tears, the stray few blood droplets happily soaked into the edge of his sleeve, only one of his gold cufflinks in place. His black dress pants were a mess also, littered in scratches and tears, a few lighter splotches of dirt, dust or dried blood, Carlos wasn’t sure. There wa a fairly large hole in the right thigh, revealing a laceration that was none too deep but a few inches long and bleeding. 

He was suddenly aware of the wet feeling all the way down to his ankle, his pants sticking to his leg in some places. 

But he hadn’t a clue why he was dressed like that. It was a far cry from his usual jeans and shirt he preferred on his days off. 

He wracked his brain but only drew blanks. 

Somewhere along the line he had gotten dressed with Paul there, he remembered that much. As well as his parents who were also there at some point, Marjan who tidied up his hair. He couldn’t fathom what kind of thing warranted such a fuss of his appearance. 

Especially something apparently fancy enough to warrant a white blazer in the midday sun. 

“Actually, I’m not sure.” 

The firefighter met his eye, his demeanour taking a slight shift. If Carlos were anyone else–except maybe Paul–he would’ve missed it. Something was off, he knew it and so did this firefighter. 

“Are you sure? You kinda look like you’re headed to a wedding or something. People don’t dress that nice for lunch dates.” 

Wedding. 

That made sense, Carlos could be going to a wedding. Although wearing white to someone else’s wedding was definitely a dick move and he didn’t know anyone who was even engaged. 

Aside from himself, and TK. 

His wedding, he realised with a crushing wave of clarity. 

“I have to go to my wedding,” he choked out, startling the firefighter–Wells, his name tag provided.  

Wells almost immediately placed the placating hand back on Carlos’ shoulder. “You should probably sit down, get medical to check you out.”

“No, I’m fine,” Carlos said, swatting the firefighter’s hand away. “I have to go to my wedding.”

Two hands were on him now, both just below his shoulders, gloved fingers wrapping around his biceps. The firefighter was a bit wild-eyed now, his gaze continually flicking over Carlos, never settling in any one place for long. “You can do that as soon as medical check you over, I’m sure it won’t be long.” 

“I can’t be late,” Carlos insisted, once again trying to duck out of the firefighter’s hold. “TK will think I abandoned him. I have to get married.” 

He couldn’t let TK down. He was probably already late but he was sure that if he showed up and explained everything that TK would be okay with it, they could start the ceremony over again. They could still get married today.

“Like, I said,” the firefighter spoke again, Carlos was struggling to remember his name and his name tag was out of sight. “You can do that after medical checks you over and clears you.”

“I’m fine,” Carlos insisted, hoping that if he repeated himself enough then this firefighter would actually listen to what he was saying. “I don’t need to wait for that. I have to get married.” 

“I’m afraid I can’t let you leave until a paramedic has a look at you.” 

“You don’t understand, my fiancé is a paramedic and I’m fine. He’s waiting for me to marry him, I have to go.” 

Perhaps being insistent on going to his wedding after being involved in a multi-car pile-up wasn’t the best way to convince rescue crews that you were fine–even though Carlos definitely was–because the firefighter waved someone over, undoubtedly the first EMT or paramedic he laid eyes on. 

“Why don’t you sit down, for a sec?” 

“I told you, I’m fine,” Carlos hissed, once again shaking off the hold. He needed to get to the wedding, to prove to TK that he was willing to spend forever together. He couldn’t do that if he was stuck in the middle of the city waiting for a medical check that he didn’t even need. “I have to go to my wedding.” 

Something odd happened as he finished his sentence, stepping forward, he staggered, a rush of dizziness sweeping over him. There were steadying hands on him yet again, but this time he failed to shrug them off. 

He couldn’t make out the firefighter’s face anymore, it became obscured by a film that made everything blurry. Carlos honestly no longer had a sense of which direction was up and which was down. 

“I have-” he started, the words and his tongue feeling foreign in his mouth. 

“I have to go to my wedding.” 

He didn’t realise how noisy and bright the scene was, sensory overwhelm pouring in from all sides. Flashing lights, the whir of machinery pulling apart cars, the shrieking of metal being ripped to shreds, sirens, the hot Austin sun hanging high in the sky. 

The silence was a welcomed change. 

-

Apparently Carlos couldn’t even be bothered to pick up his phone. 

There was a simmering anger in TK’s chest, roiling behind his pain. He was devastated at the turn of events, but he couldn’t help being angry with Carlos. After everything, he had thought that their relationship meant more. 

It wasn’t even like everyone’s calls were going straight to voicemail either. So his phone wasn’t off. 

The mystery of a lifetime–where was Carlos on his wedding day? 

Carlos was meant to be there with TK, they were supposed to have exchanged rings, supposed to be husbands by now. But there was no sign of him. 

Somewhere amidst the chaos of everything, TK found respite. 

He was allowed to stay in the broom closet, curled up against the wall, his knees pulled to his chin. Everyone else was trying to rectify the disaster that had become of the wedding that was meant to be perfect. 

TK and Carlos deserved this. They’d jumped through hoops and levelled mountains for the love of a lifetime, but somehow TK had gone and screwed it up along the way. There was no other conclusion that he could draw, Carlos wasn’t here, wasn’t in the one place he was meant to be. 

TK wasn’t sure he had ever felt quite this hopeless. Which was a statement in and of itself. 

Rock bottom and he were close friends, he frequented it like it was a food truck and not a crushing empty feeling in his chest. 

Here he was, back again after everything fell apart.

But it felt different now. The aching emptiness was replaced by a fire that seared its way through his chest, an agony that made it hard to breathe. 

Carlos was nothing short of his whole world, for it to crumble like this was something he knew he could never face. He wouldn’t move from his corner, couldn’t handle the idea of getting up and walking out of his wedding venue, finger light and heart all the heavier. 

He should have expected that his father would join him on the floor. 

“How are you holding up?” 

TK just laughed. Unfortunately it sounded more like a cat choking on a piece of plastic it found under the couch. It wasn’t even hollow and mirthless, it just sounded like he was dying.

He felt like it too.

He didn’t humour his father with a reply, just continued his meltdown with new company. 

Owen didn’t touch him. Knew it wouldn’t help. 

Sometimes after a lifetime of being known by someone they understand you. 

Silence is a great companion when you don’t even have the clarity of mind to think straight. His thoughts were jumbled and sounded awfully akin to the cries of a wounded animal. At this point he was one. Cornered and surrounded, unsure of where he could go next, fully aware of the looming threat just beyond his eyeline. 

He never wanted to leave the broom closet. There was a world beyond the four square feet of space in which the man he was ready to spend the rest of his life with didn’t love him in the same way. 

His father had an ulterior motive. He knew that much. 

After all, last time he had been heartbroken it didn’t hold a candle to how much he was hurting right now and his father had found him dead on his apartment floor. 

He survived that, he didn’t think he could survive this. 

“Breathe, TK.” 

He didn’t want to. Maybe if he hyperventilated for long enough he would pass out and wake up to find that it had only been a dream–an awful nightmare. 

There was a hand on his back now, rubbing circles as if he were a distressed child. Maybe he was. 

“Breathe,” his father’s voice was soft, but only in the sense that it was a conversation that only the two of them could hear, it stayed firm, commanding.

TK sucked in a choked and staggered breath, coughing once his lungs fully expanded for the first time in what felt like hours. 

“Good. You’ll be okay.” 

That was a sentence more for easing Owen’s own mind than to comfort TK. But it was true. He either had to be okay or he would die. Even if his heart didn’t stop, he would rot like a corpse, from the inside out. His heart would never recover from this. 

There’s only so much pain you can go through before it destroys you and TK crossed that threshold long before he stood alone at the altar.

There was a dead thing in his chest, beating against his ribcage, maybe if it escaped things would hurt less. 

A clacking of heels against hardwood and TK found the energy to look up at the doorway for the first time. Marjan hovered awkwardly, phone in hand, her eyes blown wide. She looked wonderful in her dress, the soft blue suiting her unlike anything he could’ve ever imagined. Had this not been the worst day of his life, TK would’ve told her that she looked like a princess. 

“I don’t mean to interrupt,” she said, her voice unsure but full of care, “but this article says that there’s been a massive pile-up on MoPac.”

“What?” TK’s voice was small, but ripe with terror. MoPac was the fastest route from the loft to their venue. 

Marjan read from her phone. “First responders are still evacuating people but it’s been confirmed that there are eight injured,  three dead, and numbers expected to rise as rescue efforts continue.”

There’s a brief reprieve from the heartache of being left at the altar, only for the fear to flood into its absence and hold him in a vice grip.

Things made a lot more sense now.

Guilt. That was the most prominent emotion, guilt that while TK had been assuming that Carlos had outright abandoned him, his fiancé could be hurt, or worse. 

-

Carlos knew where he was before he even opened his eyes.

He’d spent enough time in hospital rooms when TK was hurt to recognise the feeling in the air if nothing else. Hospitals always felt different. It wasn’t a matter of the noise or the overly sterile-feeling lights–the air carried a different weight. 

Nothing was quite as unhomely as a hospital, seemingly always a hostile environment, at least whenever he was in them as of late. The sound of shoes squeaking against linoleum was enough to throttle him back into the memories of being at TK’s bedside, begging him to wake up, to not leave. 

This was different though. 

When Carlos usually woke up in hospitals it was with a crick in his neck from sleeping sitting up, or awkwardly hunched over the edge of a hospital bed. 

It took him a bit longer than he expected to cut through the brain fog and realise that’s because he was in the bed. 

Something had happened. Something he was not entirely sure of, but it was nothing good. 

When he finally mustered up the energy to pry his eyes open, he found his hospital room basked in moonlight from the only window, a soft blue glow pouring from between the gaps in the blinds. 

Illuminating the figure in the chair next to the bed. 

Head dropped in sleep, Carlos could still recognise his fiancé anywhere. 

TK’s hair was a mess, sticking up in every possible direction. It paired well with his white button down that was all crumpled, in complete disarray, a few of the top buttons undone, one side of the collar flicked up. A black tie around his neck, completely undone as it hung loosely over his shoulder. He looked like a wreck.

It took a few moments but Carlos’ hazy brain finally caught up, placing a context to TK’s clothes. They were too fancy to be casual wear, nicer than anything he had seen TK wear to a nice restaurant. It clicked into place, the realisation firm and bringing with it a sense of clarity. 

Their wedding. 

With clarity came memories. 

The crash. The carnage. Collapsing under the midday Austin sun. Missing his own wedding. 

It was clear that TK hadn’t even had a moment of reprieve to go home and change, although Carlos doubted he would even if he did get the chance. TK loved him so wholly and with his entire soul, and Carlos knew firsthand how much leaving the hospital room feels like your heart is being constricted even if it’s only for a few minutes. 

He’d gotten better at being able to get home and change out of his uniform, it still felt like he was dying but it was a skill he had acquired only through surviving the worst with TK. 

Carlos was torn between leaving TK asleep or speaking in an effort to wake him. His fiancé definitely needed the sleep but there was something about seeing TK asleep in a hospital room that made Carlos’ skin crawl. Realistically he knew that TK was fine, he was safe, but he needed something stronger for his brain to use to confirm that knowledge. 

“Babe?” Carlos asked, his voice hoarse and coming out much softer than he anticipated.

TK jolted in place anyways, his head snapping up, eyes wide and wild. 

Panic. It was a very clear emotion to read but after a few seconds of TK anxiously scanning Carlos over he settled with a sigh, the tension leaving his posture as he took Carlos’ hand in both of his. 

“Hey, baby. How’re you feeling?” 

Carlos paused for a second, trying to take stock of everything. 

“Floaty,” he settled on. 

TK laughed softly, it wasn’t much but it was genuine, dripping in relief. “That’ll be the morphine.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What?” TK seemed surprised, his eyebrows knitting together as he studied Carlos with worried green eyes. Carlos didn’t miss the redness around them. It might be dark and he might be in a world of pain, but he would always notice if something was off with the man he loved.

“I didn’t mean to miss the wedding. You know I would never do that to you.” 

TK was quick to move one of his hands to Carlos’ forearm, rubbing his thumb along his skin in a soothing gesture. “I know, baby. It’s not like you arranged a seven-car pile-up just for an excuse to leave me at the altar.” 

“At the altar?” 

TK was sheepish as he spoke, directing his eyes down to the blankets of the bed. “I had already walked down the aisle by the time you didn’t show.”

“Fuck, TK.” Carlos was blinking rapidly now, tears threatening to spill as the guilt overwhelmed him. He’d left the love of his life at the altar. “I’m so sorry.” 

“Shh, you have nothing to apologise for. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“Am I?”

Carlos didn’t mean for his words to sound so sceptical, but he felt a full-body ache and that wasn’t even including the pounding in his head.

“Mostly. You definitely have a concussion, but you’ve been pretty out of it every time the nurses roused you so it makes sense if you don’t remember. But you had an MRI and CT scan, no signs of haemorrhaging. You were also walking around on a broken tibia–which is kind of insane. But other than that, you’re all in one piece.”

“One piece is good.” 

“One piece is great, I love all of you so it’s good to have it all in the same place.”

“Mmm,” Carlos hummed, feeling the drag of tiredness. “I love you too.” 

“You should go back to sleep. Get some rest before your parents come back in the morning.” 

Carlos didn’t have to be told twice. With his hand still in TK’s hold, he let himself drift. 

-

Two weeks following Carlos’ discharge, Andrea Reyes had taken it upon herself to tailor a pair of dress pants to fit over a moon boot. 

Somehow along the way their family had put together a second, less extravagant wedding. 

There was no fun venue, no caterer, no meticulously crafted invites, but there was a two-tiered cake from the bakery down the road from the firehouse, and a wedding arch that looked suspiciously like Judd’s handiwork and fake flowers hot-glued along the edges. 

TK’s friends from New York weren’t here this time, but the family he had found in Austin was. It was a small gathering on the Reyes family ranch, but somehow it was perfect. 

The ceremony had gone off without a hitch this time, and now they were husbands. Vowed to each other in sickness and in health, until death do them part. 

Perhaps it was a bit cruel to smash Carlos’ face into the cake after everyone had taken a slice, with having one fully-operational leg and all, but he erupted into laughter as he emerged from the frosting. 

There would always be something about Carlos’ joy that was infectious, TK joining him in laughter as he dragged a finger through the icing on Carlos’ nose and made a point of tasting it.