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morganaspendragonss · 11 days ago

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holding on to your final breath

for @911lonestarangstweek day 6 - make a moment of your choice (push wake up scene) as angsty as possible i considered not going so extreme with this one but goddammit it's angst week and i have been rotating this idea in my mind since push aired. also big shout out to emmerdale for recently having a character fall through an icy pond, get hypothermia, and...well. to add some extra angst, tarlos aren't broken up in this fic title from coffins by bohnes ao3 | 1.8k | mcd, hypothermia, seizures, hospitals

One moment he’s drifting off to sleep, one hand loosely in TK’s as the exhaustion of the day catches up with him.

The next, he’s wide awake as the monitors beep and doctors surge around them like a tidal wave pulling him away from the man he loves. TK’s body jerks and twitches, eyes rolled back so far that the lids are cracked open, displaying the whites as he seizes and seizes, and Carlos can’t move, can’t speak, can’t do anything to resist as he’s pushed closer and closer to the door.

“What’s happening?” he manages, to no response. His heart pounds and tears start to streak down his cheeks, heart breaking as he’s forced to face anew the fact that he might actually lose him this time. He resorts to begging, would fall down to his knees and clutch their coats if he could, if it would make TK live. “Is he– Please, please help him. Don’t let him die. Please.”

But they don’t heed his sobs, firmly pulling the door closed once he’s clear, and suddenly all the noise is sucked out of the room. Carlos stands in the vacuum of the waiting room, numbly watching through the glass, until he blinks and he’s in a plastic chair, Tommy on one side and Nancy on the other. Tommy has her head bowed in prayer and Nancy keeps throwing anxious glances in the direction of TK’s room, her foot tapping a jerky beat on the linoleum floor.

Carlos shifts, groaning as stiff muscles are forced back into action; he doesn’t know how long he’s been sitting here, but it must have been a while, as through the window the sky has turned black, snowflakes still visible in the glow of street lamps. His movement alerts Tommy and Nancy to his newly alert state, and they turn in unison to smile at him, gathering up his hands and squeezing them.

“What…” he starts, but trails off as he remembers the incessant beeping, the tremors ripping through TK’s body, the voices that all blurred into one long stream of bad news. His head whips around, desperately searching for signs of life behind those doors, and dreading what will happen if there isn’t.

And it’s like the universe knows he’s at his limit, because just then the door slides open and TK’s doctor looks around, smiling gently and heading over when she spots them.

“Is he okay?” he blurts out as soon as she’s within earshot. He doesn’t have it in him to be patient anymore, not when TK’s life is at stake.

“The good news is that we’ve managed to get him stabilised,” she said.

Nancy rubs his shoulder in support, and Carlos allows himself a brief moment of relief that the worst hasn’t happened just yet. But he knows the other shoe is just waiting to drop, so he steels himself. “What’s the bad news?”

“Rewarming after hypothermia is a tricky process and it causes stress to the body, which is already vulnerable,” she explains. “His organs are struggling to function as they should, and his brain is more sensitive to electrical changes, which is what brought on the seizure. The next few hours are going to be critical.”

Carlos breathes out, more shaky that he’d like, and has to blink hard to stop more tears from falling. “Can we see him?”

“Of course.”

The doctor moves aside to let them pass, yet Carlos can’t help but hesitate. He doesn’t want to see TK like this, he never wants to see TK like this, but he can’t shake the idea that this time will be for real, and Carlos doesn’t know if he can face that. If he can face him, dying.

Someone steps in front of him and a hand lands on his cheek, tilting his head down until he meets Tommy’s eyes.

“Hey,” she says, soft and kind, but sad too. “Come on. Let’s go be there for him, okay?”

He nods, but it’s not until she takes his hand and pulls him gently along that he actually moves. Time blurs again until he’s lowering himself into the chair at TK’s bedside, automatically reaching out to run his fingers through his hair. The ventilator is gone now, replaced by some other device that Carlos can’t fathom, and he vaguely hears the doctor explaining how it was a choking hazard in the event of another seizure.

He tunes her out after a while, letting Tommy handle the details, and just focuses on TK. On the paleness of his skin and the bruise-like shadows under his eyes. On the way he lies, so still and so unlike TK that Carlos has the urge to rearrange him slightly, to make sure he’s comfortable, just the way TK likes to sleep. He doesn’t, of course, too wary of the machines and wires and TK’s general fragility to do more than raise his hand to be kissed, but it aches his heart to see him like this. It’s so unlike TK, who usually lies on his side, curled up with one arm reaching out for Carlos.

TK hates sleeping on his back.

The doctor leaves, eventually, and it’s just the three of them in the room. Carlos doesn’t take his eyes off TK; he won’t this time, not again. Not until he’s at home and safe and well again. Maybe not even then.

“I can’t lose him,” he mumbles, whether to himself or Tommy or Nancy, he doesn’t really know. “I can’t– I can’t.”

One of them grips his arm, the other reaching round to hug him from behind. “TK’s come this far,” Tommy says. “He’s still with us.”

“And one thing we know about TK,” Nancy adds. “He’s never backed down from a fight.”

Tommy hums, a slight amused note to it. “She’s right about that.”

Carlos sniffs and nods, but he’s suddenly stifled by the weight of their comfort. “I think–” he starts. Hesitates. “I think I’d like some time with him. Alone. If that’s okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” Nancy says, immediately withdrawing the hug. Tommy stands too, pausing halfway to kiss his cheek. It reminds him of his mother, and Carlos desperately wishes she were here, with all her constant faith in the good of things.

When he’s alone, he leans closer to the bed, taking his time to memorise everything of TK that he can see. “Hey,” he says. “Hey, TK. Um. I guess I want you to know that I’m here. We all are. Me and Nancy and Tommy. The others know, but they’re still on shift, and your dad… We’ve tried getting in touch with your mom and dad, but the storm’s knocked out signal. And they probably wouldn’t be able to get to Austin anyway, so… So I guess you’re just going to have to hold on for them.

“And for me. I’d really like it if you held on for me, too.” He pauses, breathes in shakily and blinks away the sudden blurriness to his vision. “I love you, TK. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t tell you that enough, but it’s true. And, I guess I was thinking, when you get out of here and you’re all better, maybe we could get started on making that – us – official. This isn’t a proposal, because you deserve so much better, but I want that with you, TK. I want everything with you. And, baby, life’s too short. So hurry up and come back to me, yeah?”

He kisses TK’s hand and bows his head, silently muttering prayers as he waits for TK to just open his eyes. To come back to him, like he’s done so many times before.

And then–

He doesn’t know how long it’s been, but–

A squeeze.

It’s weak, but it’s there, and Carlos shoots up straight, choking on a sob as he sees TK’s eyelids start to flutter, his blue-tinged lips part in a shaky inhale.

“TK?” he asks, not daring to believe it yet.

A breath, then another. “Carlos?”

“Hey.” He stands and bends over the bed, pressing his lips to TK’s temple and cradling his head in his hands. “Hey, sweetheart, it’s so good to see you.”

“Carlos?” TK repeats, his voice barely a whisper.

“Yeah, baby, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“The… In the water.”

“I know, you went under, but you’re safe now and you’re going to be okay, I promise.”

“I… Boy.”

Carlos’s heart breaks all over again; of course TK would be on death’s doorstep and still worried over someone else. “He’s okay. You saved his life, baby.”

TK’s gasps a few more times, painful whimpers leaving him as the slivers of his eyes dart unseeingly around the room.

Then they lock onto Carlos’s, suddenly clear, and his breathing slows, becomes more peaceful. “I love you.”

…

It’s quiet, after. Carlos wishes he could say he doesn’t remember what happened in that room, but he does, every wrenching second of it. He remembers the nurses flooding the room, pushing him back but not pushing him out; he remembers them rolling in the crash cart and sticking pads to TK’s chest. He remembers the shocks, the way TK’s body had arched off the bed only to fall down again limply.

He remembers the end.

The doctor, standing at the side of his bed; a nurse, holding fingers to TK’s neck, then shaking his head. A declaration – Time of death, 23:57 – calling quits on TK’s life just like that. TK, who had been awake and talking not five minutes prior, now gone forever.

He’d walked out of the room in a haze, looking up to see Tommy and Nancy on their feet, to Judd walking around the corner with Owen by his side. They all looked at him and no words needed to be said for them all to understand that it’s too late.

They let him back in the room eventually. The machines are gone; it’s just him and TK, no hope left. He ends up curled on his side next to him, forehead pressed to TK’s temple, arms wrapped around him, fingers carding through his hair.

It’s peaceful. It’s wrong.

The silence weighs on him, and Carlos holds TK all the tighter. One last time, he lets the love of his life chase away the monsters lurking in the shadows; one last time, he keeps him close, breathing in the smell of the man he thought he would grow old with.

He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to face it when he has to leave, that moment drawing ever closer with every breath he takes, with every breath TK doesn’t.

He’ll face it when it comes.

For now, TK needs him.

#911lsangstweek #angst week 3.0 #angst week the return #911 lone star #lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #mcd #tk strand #carlos reyes #911ls #lone star #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing

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