#911lsangstweek

[guardian-angle22]

911: Lone Star Angst Week | Season 1 "Dammit, TK, you promised me this would never happen again."

[911lonestarangstweek]

angsty shout-outs!

We asked you guys to supply us with your favourite angsty works and you did not disappoint! We have compiled them, as well as some of the mods' favourites, into a by no means definitive list of recs for you to check out in preparation for our angst fest next week!

so, without further ado:

Where All This Love Comes From by @carlos-in-glasses

The Long Goodbye by Mari_Marie

maybe it will turn out this time by @morganaspendragonss

The Wake by Krafty

The Space In Between by @decafdino

Love Can Pull You Out Of Yesterday by @alrightbuckaroo

Weep Not For Me by @henrygrass

You Wanting Me Tonight Feels Impossible by @emsprovisions

2 AM, Kitchen Floor by @heartstringsduet

Even If The World Ends Tomorrow by @bonheur-cafe

Monday by @butchreyes

You Keep Coming Back With A Bird In Your Teeth by vaguenotion

what we leave behind by @goodways

my beatin’ heart belongs to you by bartsy

a safe distance by @tailoredshirt

come what may, i’ll still stay by @strandnreyes

the firehouse by @paperstorm

to build a home by @freneticfloetry

what is sown, what is grown by @never-blooms

one of these days by @butchreyes

trouble will not take me by @marjansmarwani

silence and gloom by @wandering-night19

Drifting Beneath the Horizon by @sunshineacd

Not Much of a Talking Man by RobinPlaysTrumpet15

We are lost (and we're falling) by theskyisblue

Duress Alarm by @aliceschuyler

if i crash, i'm made of steel by @trkstrnd

shape-shifting in an endless sleep by @terramous

in the garden of evil, honey by Maybethereshope

For Better and for Worse by twinfinite

you can hear it in the silence by hoodieweather

our bodies, possessed by light by @reyesstrand

Fall On Me by @moviegeek03

forever in a second too short (home is a heartbeat) by @lire-casander

if my wishes came true, it would've been you by @ravens-words

there is so much talent in this fandom so we narrowed the list down to one per author, but we highly recommend you checking out their other work!

[morganaspendragonss]

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.

[tarlos-spain]

Tarlos Angst Week Día 6

Título: Estés donde estés, te encontraré

Prompt: Su prompt es muy simple y al mismo tiempo muy complicado, pero en cuanto lo leí, apareció en mi mente. Se trataba de coger mi momento favorito y hacerlo más angsty todavía. ¿Con qué he decido jugar? Pues con un capítulo que creo que no se aprovechó del todo en lo que a potencial de Hurt Carlos posible se trata. El secuestro de Carlos en el 4x04. Supongo que sabéis de lo que estoy hablando.

Resumen: Tras una fuerte discusión, Carlos se había ido para investigar pero TK no había vuelto a saber de él. Sabía que estaban detrás de un asesino en serie y una sensación dentro de él le decía que algo horrible le había pasado a Carlos. Tenía que encontrarlo antes de que fuera demasiado tarde; porque el aire se acababa allí abajo, no había mucho entre tanta tierra que le estaba asfixiando.

TK había perdido ya la cuenta de las horas que Carlos llevaba desaparecido. No había dormido la noche anterior, desde que no había regresado a casa y ahora se acercaba el atardecer del segundo día sin más pistas que el caso en el que estaba metido su novio.

¿Por qué tenían que haber peleado? ¿Por qué tantas inseguridades? La sola idea de no volver a Carlos y saber que la última conversación que había mantenido con él había desembocado en todo aquello, le revolvía el estómago.

Ahora Gabriel hablaba de un asesino en serie y de víctimas que no habían encontrado nunca. El esfuerzo de no pensar en que Carlos podía ser la siguiente víctima a la que nunca encontraría, le estaba provocando una terrible migraña.

Para cuando TK quiso darse cuenta, las pistas le habían llevado al farmacéutico, a su casa, a su madre y la idea de que esa mujer era cómplice de todo lo que había hecho su hijo; igual que lo era ahora de la desaparición de Carlos.

Si había alguien que pudiera decirles donde estaba su prometido, era esa gente, pero por lo visto esa gente estaba lo bastante mal de la cabeza como para dejarle morir delante de su propio padre y ranger.

Gabriel estaba demasiado calmado y TK no lo comprendía. Ese hombre había secuestrado a su hijo; no tenían pruebas para demostrarlo, pero tanto él como TK lo sabían, lo tenían delante. ¿Cómo era posible que no pudieran hacer nada?

 TK había conseguido convencer a Gabriel de volver a pesar de no saber por donde tirar o qué decirle a ese hombre o a su madre. 

“Déjame hablar por favor.” Le pidió TK.

“Sabes que no hay nada que podemos hacer, mijo.”

“No hay nada que puedas hacer como ranger. Yo quiero hablar con esa mujer como una madre y mostrarle como me siento de verdad. Que estoy asustado por Carlos, que le quiero tener de vuelta.”

Tras un momento de duda, Gabriel aceptó.

*

Carlos intentó abrir los ojos, pero en seguida la tierra y la porquería que le rodeaba le cayeron encima y tuvo que cerrarlos de nuevo. Lo mismo le pasó con la boca. Quiso gritar para intentar pedir ayuda, pero no pudo, porque la tierra que le habían echado encima, penetraba hasta el fondo de su garganta.

Quiso toser, pero no pudo, se imaginó que con cada bocanada de aire que intentaba tomar, cada respiración, cada segundo que pasaba, la tierra, cada grano de tierra se iba apoderando de su cuerpo.

Dejó de respirar un momento para hacer memoria.

Recordaba el caso, recordaba, el túnel, las chicas desaparecidas, Iris. Todas las imágenes volvían él unas encima de otras. Luego había llegado ese hombre, no le había visto bien, había aparecido por detrás le había golpeado y le había secuestrado.

Había despertado atado a la cocina. Había pasado un buen rato, horas seguramente, hablando con su madre y casi había convencido que le soltara. Se la había ganado hablándole de su madre y de TK. Se había mostrado una mujer comprensible y cariñosa.

Luego… No pudo seguir pensando, necesitaba respirar, pero le habían dejado ahí metido, bajo tierra… lo cual le hizo entrar en pánico, estaba oscuro y la tierra lo cubría todo. Pero también estaba el malestar y lo complicado que era pensar.

Conocía la sensación, al menos en teoría. Lo había estudiado, porque jamás había probado las drogas. Pero había estudiado mucho, sobre todo desde que TK había entrado a formar parte de su vida. Quería estar preparado para ayudarle.

Así que ahora sabía que le habían drogado y sabía que su cuerpo estaba sufriendo las consecuencias de una sobredosis de algo preparado para matarle.

Se preguntó qué era lo que le mataría primero, lo que le hubieran inyectado, la falta de aire o simplemente el tiempo haría su trabajo y moriría de todas formas.

Pensó en TK en que la última vez que se habían visto habían peleado y decidió que no podía ser ese el último recuerdo que su novio tuviera de él. Así que tenía que luchar, como fuera, por mucho que le costara, por muy grande que fuera el sufrimiento.

Iba a volver con TK, porque TK le iba a encontrar.

*

La mujer les abrió la puerta de la casa con un gesto de sorpresa. Tenía un delantal manchado de harina y una música proveniente de un antiguo tocadiscos sonaba en el salón.

“Oh, vaya, ranger Reyes, no esperaba que regresara tan pronto. ¿Ha encontrado alguna pista sobre el caso?”

TK dio un paso adelante, miró a los ojos a la mujer y rozó su mano con la suya.

“No tenemos pruebas, pero sabemos que su hijo ha hecho algo malo a Carlos, el policía que vino investigando ayer, mi prometido; igual que ha matado a todas esas chicas por las que vino preguntando.”

“Ah, Carlos, sí, me acuerdo de él. Era un joven muy guapo y muy listo.” Dijo la mujer, mientras se limpiaba las manos en el delantal y se tomaba su tiempo para pensar las palabras que iba a decir a continuación. “Demasiado creo y sé que no debería decir esto, pero supongo que si habéis vuelto…”

“Señora, Carlos lleva más de un día desaparecido, sabemos que estuvo aquí, desapareció aquí y su hijo… nos falta solo una prueba para detenerle por secuestro y asesinato de varias jóvenes. ¿Quiere ser usted cómplice? ¿Quiere ser cómplice de la muerte de un policía?”

TK sintió que se le cerraba la garganta al decir esas palabras.

La expresión de la mujer también cambió. Dio un paso adelante, miró al exterior, a ambos lados de la calle y luego acarició la mejilla de TK, en un silencio demasiado largo para que pudiera soportarlo.

“Ranger Reyes supongo que entenderá lo que supone proteger a un hijo ¿verdad? Eso es lo que estoy haciendo por mi hijo.”

“Lo que está haciendo es proteger a un asesino.” Respondió TK. “Por favor, ¿Carlos le habló de mi? ¿Tuvo ocasión de decirle algo de nosotros?”

“Claro que sí, cielo, Carlos me dijo tantas cosas de ti, de lo mucho que te quería. Por eso me da tanta pena decirte ahora que llegas demasiado tarde.” 

TK sintió que se le doblaban las piernas, pero logró quedarse en pie, mirando fijamente a la mujer a la espera de una respuesta.

La respuesta llegó cuando la mujer les puso delante una pequeña cesta de mimbre con los restos de un teléfono móvil y les entregó una camiseta ensangrentada. No era más que una camiseta blanca, pero se parecía mucho a la que llevaba Carlos cuando se había marchado de casa la noche anterior.

“¿Qué significa todo esto? ¿Dónde está Carlos?”

“Mi hijo se ocupó de él, como de todas las otras chicas.”

TK no dejó de mirar la sangre y solo pudo imaginar lo que ese hombre había hecho con Carlos. Estaba seguro que su novio se había defendido; no se lo habría puesto fácil y aún así necesitaba ver su cuerpo, si realmente estaba muerto, necesitaba recuperarlo y enterrarlo si de verdad le había ocurrido lo que esa mujer decía.

“No, Carlos no puede estar muerto, yo lo sabría. Su padre lo sabría.” Dijo TK señalando a Gabriel detrás de él.

*

Estaba casi seguro que tenía la pierna atrapada, pero lo cierto era que todo su cuerpo estaba atrapado entre una montaña de tierra. Quería moverse, intentarlo por lo menos, pero se sentía momificado, solo que las vendas eran litros y litros que alguien le había echado encima.

Mientras intentaba pensar con el poco aire con el que contaba y las menos fuerzas que le restaban el cuerpo, imaginó que su atacante había hecho las cosas deprisa y corriendo. Después de todo, con un poco más de tiempo, habría sido más cuidadoso y le habría dejado completamente enterrado.

Habría sido muy sencillo enterrarle del todo.

No habría llegado a despertar. Se habría asfixiado antes de abrir los ojos.

En cierto modo habría sido una muerte más dulce y tranquila que lo que le esperaba ahora.

La agonía del tiempo que tenía por delante solo iba a retrasar lo inevitable si TK y su padre no llegaban a tiempo. Podía tener unos minutos más de aire, tal vez más, tal vez menos; difícil de calcular en la oscuridad y el silencio.

Estaba agotado, herido, asustado y ya le costaba respirar. Además las drogas o lo que estuviera recorriendo su cuerpo, discurría con total libertad y a sus anchas.

“TK… si puedes…. si pudieras oírme… lo siento.”

*

Pero las pruebas llegaron desde la farmacia en la que trabajaba aquel hombre, TK había dado en el clavo al decir que las víctimas debían tener algo en concreto y que la receta debía ser la clave.

Ese hombre se confiaba demasiado, se creía muy listo, pero se le había acabado la fiesta.

Gabriel recibió la llamada desde la comisaría de que lo habían detenido en su camino a la farmacia. Se movía con naturalidad, no temía ser descubierto, no le importaba haber secuestrado, ni haber hecho daño a un policía. Estaba de camino al trabajo cuando lo habían detenido y su madre hablaba del delito como si se tratara de un entrenamiento de fútbol o algo de igual importancia.

Nada de lo que estaba ocurriendo tenía sentido y tanto madre como hijo tenían un grave problema mental. Pero en cualquier caso, en ese momento, lo más importante era dar con Carlos. Porque nada se lo quitaba de la cabeza a TK, Carlos estaba vivo y precisamente por eso no podían perder más tiempo y dar con él cuanto antes.

“Señora, acabamos de detener a su hijo por todos los crímenes que ha cometido.” Dijo Gabriel. TK lo conocía bien y sabía que estaba haciendo un gran esfuerzo para ocultar el miedo y la desesperación que sentía y que necesitaba estampar en alguien. “Usted sabe también como nosotros que su hijo es un hombre muy peligroso y que ha hecho cosas horribles.”

“Esas chicas… intenté ayudarlas, pero ellas no entendieron que todo era por su bien. Mi hijo solo les quitó el sufrimiento. Vivía en la calle.”

TK asintió, deseaba gritarle y decirle que eran una familia de asesinos psicópatas y que debían encerrarlos para toda la vida y tirar la calle al fondo de un volcán. Pero simplemente asintió por el bien de Carlos y por tenerle de vuelta, con vida.

“¿Y Carlos? ¿También él se lo merecía? ¿Se lo merece?” Lo único que podía repetirse era que Carlos no estaba muerto.

Gabriel se apartó un poco al recibir una llamada, pero volvió un momento más tarde, llamó la atención de TK con su mano en el hombro y esperó a que se volviera.

“Tengo a ese desgraciado al teléfono.”

“¿Es mi hijo? ¿Puedo hablar con él?” Los dos miraron a la mujer, pero ninguno contestó.

“¿Quieres hablar tú o prefieres dejar que lo haga yo?”

TK le hizo un gesto a su suegro para que pusiera el manos libres en el teléfono.

“¿Dónde has metido a Carlos?” Dijo sin más miramientos.

“Créeme, muchacho, no quieres saberlo.” La voz sonaba fría y confiada. “No sería bonito encontrarlo ahora.”

“¡No te he preguntado tu opinión, maldito bastardo! Has hecho daño a Carlos. Dinos dónde está y qué has hecho con él.” 

Gabriel agarró a TK del brazo para que se calamara, conocía muchos criminales como ese hombre. Sabía cómo dominar la situación, cómo hacerles perder los nervios y así, cómo evitar contestar a sus preguntas y darles la información que ellos querían.

“Carlos está vivo, lo sé y tú puedes evitar una muerte más.” Consiguió decir TK un poco más calmado. “Dinos dónde está, por favor.”

“Me han dicho que estáis en mi casa, con mi madre. Estáis más cerca de él de lo que pensáis.”

TK no esperaba que Gabriel perdiera el control tan pronto, pero lo cierto era que el ranger llevaba aguantando la presión el mismo tiempo que él, viendo las fotos de las chicas muertas, sabiendo que aquel hombre había asesinado a todas esas muchachas y que su hijo seguramente había sido el siguiente, había corrido la misma suerte.

Lo que era de extrañas era, en realidad, que hubiera aguantado tanto tiempo sin saltar.

“¡Maldito cabrón! Déjate de rodeos y dinos de una puta vez donde está mi hijo. Vas a pasarte el resto de tu vida en la vida en la cárcel, no añadas motivos para pasarlo mal allí dentro. ”

“Tu hijo no debería haberse metido en medio.”

“Pero lo hizo.” Contestó TK. “Ese es Carlos, el que siempre intenta hacer el bien. No se merece sufrir más por tu culpa. Dinos lo que le ha pasado y dónde está.”

Se hizo un momento de silencio y por un momento, tanto TK como Gabriel temieron que aquel hombre no quisiera decirles nada más.

*

Era el final, lo sentía, su cuerpo se apagaba y lo peor era que no lo estaba haciendo despacio, no. Parecía que su propio cuerpo quería que se diera cuenta que se estaba muriendo y que no iba a salir de allí… donde quisiera que fuera allí.

La oscuridad iba a ser el único testigo de su fin y por mucho que gritara, que no podía, nadie le iba a escuchar.  

TK no le iba a escuchar, no se iban a ver nunca más. No podría decirle a la cara lo mucho que sentía esa última discusión. Estaba nervioso y podría haber hecho mil cosas en lugar de discutir con la persona que más necesitaba tener cerca.

Pero ya no había remedio, ahora solo le quedaba esperar los momentos finales y ver que ocurría primero; la falta de aire, las drogas, un ataque al corazón o todo al mismo tiempo y desde luego, sin TK.

“Adiós, baby. Te quiero.”

*

“Hizo demasiadas preguntas, las equivocadas, y tuve que improvisar un poco, no me gusta improvisar.” Dijo por fin el hombre al otro lado del teléfono.

“¿Donde está, joder? Dinos dónde está o te mataré.”

Gabriel arrebató el teléfono de manos de TK.

“¡TK no! No puedes decir algo así.”

“Me da igual. Carlos no está muerto, pero si perdemos más tiempo, lo estará.”

Había perdido de vista a la anciana, pero la señora seguía en la puerta de la casa. Dio un paso hacia él y le tomó las manos.

“Lo siento cielo, pero tu prometido ya no está con nosotros, no podría ahí abajo, mi hijo se ha asegurado de ello.” TK abrió la boca para decir algo, pero la mujer siguió hablando. “Por eso le cerró a cal y canto por el camino por el que vino a nuestra casa, para que nadie más pueda venir.”

“¡Mamá, cállate!”

Entonces, de repente TK recordó lo que la policía había estado investigando sobre aquella casa y la casa de al lado donde había desaparecido Iris. No se podía creer que se le hubiera pasado.

Pero finalmente lo había recordado y eso significaba que estaban a pocos instantes de dar con Carlos.

“Gabriel, el túnel. Hay un túnel en la otra casa y si no me equivoco, está unido a esta casa. Carlos está ahí abajo.”

[benjaminrussell]

Bound to Drown

Fandom: 911 Lone Star Relationship: Nancy&Judd Rating: Teen WC: 1.1k

For @911lonestarangstweek day 3 prompt: loss.

Summary: A call hits too close to home for Nancy bringing up her grief and trauma, but luckily she has a friend who understands all too well what she’s been through.

Nancy and Tommy climb out of the ambulance and grab their gear before hurrying over to where Judd is directing his crew. He gives the last of them their tasks before turning to the paramedics. “Nothing for you yet, but standby. We think there’s someone stuck inside.” “Will do, Captain Ryder.” Tommy gives him a quick grin, before she and Nancy move further back so they’re out of the firefighters’ ways. They watch as their colleagues fight the fire, which is slowly engulfing more of the house, but thankfully it’s far enough away from its neighbours that the risk of it spreading is low. It’s a little while of waiting and watching but then a shout goes up, and Mateo and Paul appear from the flames carrying a seemingly unconscious figure, so Nancy leaps into action and hurries to meet them, knowing without needing to check that Tommy’s right behind her.

Read on AO3

[annoyingcloudearthquake]

@911lonestarangstweek Day 1

Wake up from your slumber

Nancy had experienced what it was like waiting for a loved one to escape the grasping hands of a coma but never as someone’s partner.

She didn’t like it.

——

Day 1 - 24th March - Season 1 | “You promised me this would never happen again.” |

[neversleepuntilfive]

I'm really curious about the angsty Carlos! 👀 Do tell!

This one is of Carlos in the collaboration of @tellmegoodbye, @certifiedflower & me! So also for the Super Secret Angsty fic intended for @911lonestarangstweek. A super little detail I'm sure I can share: he will wear a hat again!! And yes nearly all my wips include carlos with a cowboy hat for some reason if i think about it...

[bellakitse]

The one I can’t live without

“Am I okay?” he hisses like a rattlesnake. “My boyfriend just took a swan dive off a four-story building with an asshole with a gun. What do you think, Carlos? Does that sound okay?”

Carlos does something reckless at work upsetting TK.

Written for @911lonestarangstweek - Day 1: Emotional whump + “How do we fix this?”

In hindsight, Carlos probably shouldn’t have been so flippant in the sight of TK’s worry.

He’s running on adrenaline. They’re in the middle of a standoff on the roof of a four-story apartment building with him between an erratic gunman on the ledge and his girlfriend. He’s trying to talk the man into lowering his gun when his radio goes live, letting him know the rescue cushion has been inflated below them, and he cringes as it causes the man before him to lose the last bit of grip he has on the situation. He doesn’t stop to think; he sees the man’s trigger finger start to pull back, and Carlos rushes forward, his arms going around the guy’s waist. Next thing Carlos knows, they’re in the air freefalling before landing on the giant cushion.

Screaming and orders are being shouted as he rolls off the cushion with his arms still around the man. He lets him go to grab his cuffs before standing him up and passing him over to his partner, finding a look of exasperation on her face.

“You’re either the bravest or dumbest son of a bitch I know, Reyes,” she says with a shake of her head before tilting it in the direction of a series of first responder vehicles. “Get your ass over there to make sure you still have your brains in the right place, though after this stunt, I have to wonder.”

Carlos rolls his eyes but does what she says, starting to make his way over to the paramedics.

“By the way,” she calls out, causing him to look back at her. “Your man is over there spitting nails.”

Carlos winces, just now noticing the number on one of the rigs. He continues walking over, feeling dread as he spots Paul and Judd and sees the pitying looks on their faces as he passes them. He sees Tommy and Nancy first. They seem to be forming a barrier with their bodies, and he quickly realizes it’s because TK is behind them, sitting on the edge of their rig with his head between his knees, taking in deep breaths.

“Baby, are you okay?” he asks, concerned, stepping around them only to step back when TK snaps his head up to look at him, his green eyes flashing.

“Am I okay?” he hisses like a rattlesnake. “My boyfriend just took a swan dive off a four-story building with an asshole with a gun. What do you think, Carlos? Does that sound okay?”

“TK – “ he starts to say with what he hopes is a calming voice. It seems to do the exact opposite as TK turns redder, his face twisting into a nasty scowl.

“Of all the reckless, stupid, boneheaded things to do,” he rants. “What were you thinking? Were you even thinking  at all – “

Carlos scoffs, and even though his brain is screaming at him not to continue, he can’t help himself when TK gives him a challenging look at the sound. “That’s a little hypocritical coming from you, don’t you think? Reckless is kind of your trademark.”

He knows it’s the wrong thing to say the second the words are out of his mouth. He expects TK to curse him out if he’s honest. What he isn’t expecting is the flash of hurt he sees cross TK’s face or the way his hand trembles. He feels his stomach drop unpleasantly as TK’s eyes shine wet, and he’s more than ready to apologize when TK turns towards his Captain.

“Captain Vega,” he starts, his voice shaking slightly. “If you would please check Officer Reyes over. I’ll go check on the girlfriend and make sure she’s okay.”

He notices Tommy look over at him, but his focus is on TK and how he won’t look at him anymore.

“Sure, TK,” Tommy answers kindly, her voice motherly the way he’s heard it at times with both her people. “Nancy, go with him.”

“You got it, Cap,” Nancy answers, putting herself on the side of TK to act as a barrier once again when they pass him. He thinks of reaching for TK anyway, but the glare Nancy gives him as she walks by stops him in his place. Instead, he watches them walk away, his dread growing with every step TK takes away from him.

Tommy clears her throat, forcing Carlos to turn back to her. He feels his face go hot at the judging look he finds on her face.

“Well,” she starts to say, letting out a loud breath. “That was an idiotic thing to say, wasn’t it?” she questions bluntly, and Carlos can’t help but cringe before nodding.

Tommy’s expression softens a bit at that. She rolls her eyes at him before waving him forward. “Well, come on, let’s get you checked out,” she motions to where TK had been sitting, probably hyperventilating because Carlos dove off a damn building – fuck he’s an idiot.

“TK might be pissed at you right now, but I guarantee the first thing he’s going to ask when he comes back is if you’re okay. It will go a long way to get you out of the doghouse if I tell him you’re fine. Then you can apologize for the stupid thing you just said when the man that loves you was on the verge of a panic attack over your safety,” she finishes pointedly, making him feel worse if possible.

 ֎֎֎

 He doesn’t get to apologize.

Mitchell comes over to tell him they’re wanted back at the station before TK and Nancy come back to the rig. He goes reluctantly; he knows he has a job to do, but he hates the idea of leaving things unsettled with TK.

Tommy sees his hesitation, her expression softening once more as she gives him a slight shove and lets him know that she’ll tell TK he’s okay. He nods, grateful, and asks her to tell TK if he can please text him, getting a nod back from the medical Captain.

He gets that text he’s waiting for hours later when he’s gotten home. Only it’s not with the message he’s hoping for, whatever that might be. Instead, it reads: ‘Spending the night at my dad’s. I’ll call you.’

Nine simple words that make his stomach clench with unease. He wants to call TK, but his eyes keep falling on the last three words of the text.

‘I’ll call you.’

The message is clear for Carlos to understand. TK doesn’t want him to reach out before he’s ready to talk to him.

He looks at his kitchen, prepped for an apology dinner he had planned of coconut curry ramen, and sighs as he starts putting things away. He loves cooking for TK, having him sit on his counters with a smile on his face as he watches him work, stealing kisses from him after he lets him taste a sauce. It’s not the same as cooking for one anymore.

As a matter of fact, he quickly realizes through the rest of the evening that his apartment isn’t the same without TK. He’s known for a while that his boyfriend spends a lot of time at his place, but Carlos hadn’t realized how much he’d gotten used to it until now that they’re fighting and he’s not there.

He eats cold cereal half-heartedly and then heads upstairs. Usually, he and TK would cuddle on the couch after dinner, only half paying attention to whatever was on tv as they exchange kisses and touches. Not having that tonight, knowing that it’s by his own doing, leaves him feeling despondent. He gets ready for bed, already knowing that it’s going to be a restless night. The only times he sleeps alone these days is when TK has an overnight at work.

He lays in bed feeling agitated and miserable as he turns to face TK’s side of the bed, hating how it’s cold to the touch when he extends his hand to touch the space. He wants to reach out and have his fingertips find his boyfriend’s warm body there.

He falls into a fitful sleep, startling awake when he hears movement in his bedroom. Sitting up, he inhales a sharp breath as he spots a tense TK by the door, the light of the hallway illuminating him. Turning on the bedside lamp, he plays with the covers as they stare at each other, nervous energy crackling between them.

“I’m still pissed at you,” TK finally speaks, his brow pinched. “But I can’t sleep without your arms around me anymore,” he whispers, obviously more upset than angry.

Carlos swallows hard, hating to see TK like this and knowing he’s the cause. “How do I fix this?”

TK lets out a sigh, and pushing his shoes off, comes over to the bed, sitting down on it. “I think the real question is how do we fix this,” he corrects him, giving him a sad smile. “And unfortunately, the answer is there is no real way to fix it. I was so scared for you today because I’m so in love with you, so unless I decide to stop loving you, I’m always going to be scared when you’re in a dangerous situation,” he finishes with a wry chuckle that sounds accepting of his fate. It makes Carlos’ heart break and fills with hope simultaneously.

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier,” Carlos whispers. He slowly reaches out, touching his fingertips to the hand TK has resting on the bed, letting out a sigh when TK turns it, taking a firmer hold.

“Yeah, that was dumb,” TK answers dryly, his eyebrow raised in challenge for a moment before he lets out a sigh of his own. “But you weren’t wrong. I have made you worry about me more than once on the job.”

“Yeah,” Carlos breathes out, thinking of TK getting shot, of the minefield and his abduction. Each time Carlos had his heart in his throat, but never did TK dismiss it the way he did today. “I’m sorry,” he says again, letting out a breath when TK’s expression softens.

“I know you are,” TK says softly. He moves, laying back on the bed, his arms open to Carlos.

Carlos doesn’t waste a second. He sinks into TK’s frame, relieved to be back in his embrace, closing his eyes when TK presses a kiss to his forehead.

“We have to be more careful out there,” TK says against his brow. “The both of us.”

Carlos nods in agreement. He thinks back to how lonely his place felt all evening without TK and lets himself voice the thought that has been echoing in his mind all night. “We have someone important waiting for us to come back home in one piece to.”

TK touches his chin, tipping his head up to look him in the eye. “The most important person in my life,” he tells him with a gentle smile, and Carlos knows he’s been forgiven completely.

“The one I can’t live without,” Carlos whispers back, swallowing around the lump in his throat as he takes in the shine in TK’s eyes at his words.

“Yeah, the one I can’t live without,” he whispers back before covering his mouth with his, kissing him gently.

Carlos returns it, deepening it as he grows desperate for more, his hands reaching out under TK’s shirt to touch the warm skin he was yearning for earlier.

TK answers his touch by pulling back long enough to pull the shirt over his head, turning as he rolls Carlos over, covering him with his body, and kissing him thoroughly and deeply. Carlos lets out a whine when TK breaks the kiss, pressing smaller, softer ones over his cheeks and nose as Carlos makes another sound.

“We should sleep,” he says quietly, shaking his head when Carlos protests. “It’s been a long day, it’s late, and you jumped off a building. You can’t tell me you’re not tired.”

Carlos tries to argue only to let out a yawn that makes TK laugh.

“Thought so,” he continues smugly. “Sleep, sweetheart. We can pick this up in the morning.”

“Fine,” Carlos pouts, his eyes already growing heavy, causing TK to chuckle again.

He watches as TK stands to remove his pants before getting back in bed.

“Can I hold you?” he questions nervously.

“Yes, please,” TK breathes out, turning his back to him, letting out a sigh when Carlos throws an arm around him, tucking his face into his neck, breathing in that uniquely TK scent.

“I love you,” he mumbles into the skin, exhaling as TK squeezes his arm.

“I love you too, baby,” he answers, sounding just as tired as Carlos. After their emotional day, it makes sense he’s so worn out.

Carlos closes his eyes, finally relaxing for the first time all day with TK back in his arms.

[marjansmarwani]

In the midnight hour, we came alive

3.3k || ao3 

He heard footsteps behind as he walked him but thought nothing of it until he noticed a figure leaning against the side of a building, at the mouth of an alley. It seemed innocent enough but something about it made the hair on the back of Carlos’s neck stand on edge. Something wasn’t right.

Or, When Carlos goes off on his own while out with TK and Paul, he finds more far trouble than he expected. ---- Day 2 of Angst Week: "does it hurt badly?” + "don’t move, they hit your head really hard” + infected wound for bthb

------------

This one was started with a prompt request from an Anon who asked for hurt Carlos and I decided to throw in my infected wound square for @badthingshappenbingo, requested by @immortalstrand. 

Beta’d by @silvarafael

------------

“I still don’t know why you didn’t ask Picnic Girl to come out with us.” 

Carlos rolled his eyes fondly as Paul glared at TK, “Will you let that go?” 

“No, I will not,” TK said firmly. “It seemed like she liked you and I know you liked her. So I’m just wondering why you haven’t seen more of her.” 

“You know most of us don’t just fall into a perfect committed relationship with the first person we meet in a new town, TK. Some of us have to play the game.” 

“First of all, don’t hate,” TK chided, sliding an arm around Carlos’s waist as he spoke and flashing him a grin before he continued. “Secondly, you have been playing the game! And you found a girl that seems like a good match for you. So I’m just curious why you aren’t trying harder to pursue it.”

Paul opened up his mouth to respond to his friend but was interrupted when the line moved forward. 

“Oh thank god,” Carlos muttered, rather louder than he meant to, causing the other two to look at him. “Don’t give me those looks,” he said defensively, “ you two have been having this argument all night. I will happily take any distraction. Like this lovely ID check before we get into the club where it will be too loud for you to hear each other enough to continue this conversation.” 

Paul snorted and TK shook his head at his boyfriend even as he leaned closer to him. 

“I’m sorry,” TK said sheepishly, “I didn’t mean to drag it on so long.” 

“It’s okay,” Carlos responded with a smile, “I know you mean well.” 

“You’re really just going to let him off like that?” Paul asked incredulously. 

Carlos shrugged, “He is awfully cute.” 

“Wow man, wow. I thought you had my back.” 

Carlos’s response was cut off when the line moved forward again the bouncer at the club asked for their IDs. Carlos shifted out of TK’s grasp so he could reach into his pocket, only to come up empty. He frowned, reaching into his other pocket instead with the same result. Both Paul and TK as well as the bouncer were watching him now and he shrugged, “It doesn’t look like I have it, I must have left it in the car.”

“Can’t let you in without it, man,” the bouncer began, and Carlos nodded. 

“Of course, I understand. I’ll just go get it.” 

“Do you want us to come with you?” TK asked, but Carlos shook his head. 

“No, you two go in. I’ll meet you there shortly.” 

“Are you sure?” TK asked again, “We don’t mind.” 

“I’m a big boy, Ty,” Carlos reminded him with a roll of his eyes, “I can handle walking two blocks to the car on my own. Go inside and I’ll be there before you know it. Just make sure that you save a dance for me?” 

“They’re all for you,” TK assured him, and Carlos grinned. He gave TK a quick kiss before waving at Paul and stepping out of the line, heading towards his car. 

He hadn’t parked far - the Camaro was on a side street about two blocks from the front door of the club - and it was a nice night for a walk at least. The humid day had faded into a cool night and Carlos savored the breeze and the quiet of the city at night. It was a nice reprieve from what was sure to be several hours full of loud music and close quarters with strangers and Carlos let himself enjoy it as he finished the journey to his car. 

It wasn’t a long walk and within a few minutes he had reached his destination, unlocking the door and leaning inside, peering around for his missing wallet. It only took him a moment to spot it on the floor of the driver’s seat. He picked it up, sliding it back into his pocket as he shut and locked the door behind him and stepped back onto the sidewalk to head back towards the noise and bright lights of the main street. 

He heard footsteps behind as he walked him but thought nothing of it until he noticed a figure leaning against the side of a building, at the mouth of an alley. It seemed innocent enough but something about it made the hair on the back of Carlos’s neck stand on edge. Something wasn’t right. 

He sped up slightly, not wanting to draw attention to himself but wanting to reach the main street as quickly as possible. His focus was split between that goal and on watching the figure by the alley that he didn’t notice the footsteps behind him growing ever closer until it was too late. 

The assailant attacked from behind, using a surprising amount of force to shove Carlos to the side, sending him sprawling onto the ground of the alley to his right. He picked himself up, spinning to face his attackers. It may be two against one, but he had training and strength on his side. He was a cop, he knew what was likely about to happen and he knew how to handle it. He wasn’t worried, it would be fine. 

Or at least, he thought it would until he heard more footsteps behind him, coming from different sides. Four was different. Four against one had odds that almost never favored the one. For the first time, Carlos let himself feel fear. This was not going to go well for him, he knew it with cold certainty. 

That doesn’t mean they needed to know that though. 

“What do you want?” he asked calmly, voice steady and back straight. He turned as he spoke, trying to keep them all in his field of vision as much as possible. He didn’t get an answer. What he got instead was a blinding pain as something collided with the side of his head, and he staggered. He managed to regain his footing, to stay upright, but only for another moment. There were hands on him now, roughly reaching for his pockets before shoving him down and he collided with the alley ground. A sharp pain ripped through him from his side as blows rained down on him from all directions. 

He couldn’t follow what was happening - all he knew was pain and noise. It was loud and fast and all-consuming; it made his head swim. The noise didn’t stop but eventually, the blows did. It took him a moment to realize they were done but once he did he tried to pull himself up. He needed to get out of this alley, he needed to get help. 

But the pain was too sharp and it sent him crashing down again, the arms he had been trying to push himself up with giving out beneath him. He lay there, mindful of the peril of his predicament and knowing he needed to do something, that he needed to move. But his head was swimming and he couldn’t manage to follow a coherent thought. Even the need to get help was not so much a plan as a disjointed thought floating through his pain hazed mind. He needed to get help, but all he wanted to do was close his eyes and let the blackness encroaching on the edges of his vision consume him. 

He was about to do just that when the sound of more commotion drifted in from the mouth of the alley. He heard more footsteps, and he tensed. Could they be back for round two? He was fairly certain they had already stripped him of anything of value. What more could there be to take? Maybe, he thought wryly, they just wanted to hurt him some more. Maybe that was just their idea of a good time. 

The footsteps grew closer but there were fewer of them this time, he thought. He was still trying to blink, to open his eyes and see who was coming when a voice joined the footsteps, “Carlos!” 

The voice was familiar, but he couldn’t place it. He must know them though, they had called him by name. He heard the sound of the footsteps quickening as they drew closer and the sudden warmth of someone else’s hands against his skin. He jerked back on reflex before the same voice sounded again, warm and soothing in his ears. 

“Easy Carlos, it’s just me babe. You’re safe and we’re going to get you help.” 

He frowned as he pulled his eyes open, squinting in an effort to focus, to make out the face before him. Worried green eyes greeted his own and he could feel some of the tension leave his body. 

“TK,” he croaked and his boyfriend swallowed before reaching out to rub a gentle hand on his face. 

“Yeah, it’s me, babe. Can you tell me what hurts?”

Everything Carlos thought dully but he pushed his mind, running over the pain that covered his body, looking for a source. “Head,” he said eventually, “hip.” 

He felt TK’s gentle hands leave his face and travel to his side, where he let out a curse. He said something over his shoulder and got a response but Carlos couldn’t follow any of it. Maybe if he stood up... 

“Hey, don’t move,” TK instructed, “they hit your head really hard and you have a wound on your side too. You need to stay put until paramedics get here.”  

“You are a paramedic,” Carlos muttered, but it came out more like a question. He wasn’t too sure of anything at the moment.

“Paramedics with gear and an ambulance then,” TK amended, “you’re going to need both for your side.” 

“What’s wrong with it?” he managed to ask. 

“There’s some scrap metal stuck in it,” TK told him. “I’m not sure if…” 

He trailed off but even Carlos’s hazy brain could figure out where his mind had been going, “Must’ve fallen on it,” he muttered, “when they pushed me down.” 

He could feel TK’s hands tighten on him at the revelation and saw movement as another face entered his field of vision. 

“Do you know how many of them there were?” the other face (Paul, his mind provided. They had been out with Paul) asked. 

“Four maybe?” Carlos said with a shrug that ended abruptly with a wince as he jostled his side. TK’s hands moved to his shoulders, steadying him. 

“Hey, try and hold still,” he said softly, “you’re in pretty rough shape.”

“I’m fine.” 

The fact that the words entered the night air slurred did not help his case and caused TK to scoff, “Don’t even try that with me Carlos Reyes, you are not fine.” 

Carlos wanted to argue with him, to tell him he was fine so he could get rid of that terrified look in TK’s eyes but he couldn’t find the words. His efforts were stalled by the sounds of approaching sirens and he realized with dread that there would be police called to the scene as well. When he had planned his night in his head being found bleeding and injured in an alley by his coworkers had never entered the equation, but his luck was just like he supposed. 

“It’s okay,” TK assured him, “the ambulance just got here. You’ll be out of here soon.” 

Carlos wasn’t sure if he had shared his thoughts out loud or not, but he appreciated the reassurance either way. He wouldn’t be any good to talk to at the moment anyway. His brain was still too scrambled, everything that had happened was in his mind in flashes; quick and jumbled and out of order. 

There were more footsteps and voices now. There was a flurry of activity and Carlos couldn’t keep track of any of it. All he knew was pain and the feel of TK’s hands on him. He heard his boyfriend’s voice and he tried to follow it, tried to cling to it to maintain some semblance of what was going on but he was only able to extract every few words. The rest hit his mind and dissipated, losing all meaning in the face of the pain and confusion engulfing him. 

More hands were on him now but TK stayed at his side, a comfort and an anchor amongst all the commotion. He heard his name from the edges of the commotion - his fellow officers, no doubt. He closed his eyes again, cursing his horrible luck but TK lightly prodded him.

“Hey, stay with me Carlos. You need to stay awake.” 

He made a noise of protest but opened his eyes nonetheless in time to see the world shift as he was transferred to the gurney. He was pushed through the growing crowd, TK at his side murmuring words of encouragement. His world shifts again as the gurney is lifted into the ambulance and pain washes over him as his side is jostled. He hisses in pain and TK’s hands are on him again, warm and comforting to pair with his soothing voice, “It’s okay Carlos, you’re going to be fine. Just stay with me, babe.” 

And Carlos wants to, he really does. But the darkness at the edges of his vision is growing closer now and he doesn’t think he really has a choice. He meets TK’s eyes, so full of love and worry, and tries to smile before his eyes close again, TK’s voice the last sound he hears. 

-----------

The next time he’s aware of anything he’s in a hospital room. At least, he thinks he is. Everything is a little hazy, but he knows he’s no longer in the alley, at least. 

He groans as the light hits his eyes, causing a spike of pain in his head. He hears movement off to the side and then there is a hand on him and a soft voice to his side: “Carlos?” 

The voice was soft and familiar. “TK?” 

“Yeah babe,” he said, “it’s me. How are you feeling?” 

“Lousy,” Carlos told him honestly, pulling a weak chuckle from the other man. 

“That’s not surprising,” he said quietly, gently pulling himself onto the edge of the bed so Carlos could see him better. 

“What happened?” Carlos asked him, frowning as he tried to piece the fragments of sound and sensations in his mind into something concrete. “I remember being attacked and then you and Paul finding me, but nothing after that.” 

 TK reached out a hand wrapped it around one of Carlos’s, “You just got out of surgery a little while ago,” he told him softly, “they had to remove the metal in your side. There was a decent amount of tearing and it was dirty, so they’re worried about infection. To top all that off you have a concussion and a skull fracture.” 

“Ouch,” Carlos said absently and TK gave him a sympathetic grin. 

“Ouch is right. The good news is that as long as you aren’t showing any signs of infection you should be able to be released tomorrow, providing you have someone to stay with you. And it just so happens I have some vacation time saved up.” 

“Is that so?” 

“Mhm,” TK confirmed lightly, reaching out his other hand to caress Carlos’s face. Carlos leaned into the touch, but TK frowned. “You’re really warm, babe.” 

Really? Carlos was surprised by the statement. “I’m freezing,” he told TK, whose frown deepened. 

“That’s not a great sign,” he admitted, “could be an infection setting in. I’m going to try and grab your doctor, you just relax, okay?” 

“Okay,” he told TK, but his eyes were already drifting closed again. He didn’t know why it was so hard to keep them open. Maybe it was the after effects of the anesthesia. Regardless of the reason, Carlos was out before TK even reached the door. 

-----------

The next few times Carlos woke up were a haze. He thinks he’s been awake a few times, but they all blended together. There are sounds and voices, people and faces he can’t quite place. And TK - TK is always there. That’s the only thing Carlos knows for sure. 

He doesn’t know how long it had been but eventually, when he opened his eyes, his mind felt clearer. He blinked a few times to test it before glancing around the room. The hospital seemed quieter than usual, the typical hustle and bustle more sedated. But that’s not Carlos’s concern. His only concern is the sleeping figure in the chair beside his bed, head braced uncomfortably by his left arm held aloft by the side of the chair. The other man looked exhausted and as much as Carlos wanted to see his eyes and get some answers, he couldn’t bear the thought of waking him. He settled instead for attempting to shift into a more comfortable position, which turned out to both be impossible and a mistake as he jostled his side and let out an involuntary gasp of pain. 

TK was awake in an instant, head dropping unceremoniously off of his extended hand as he sat up, eyes flying open and seeking Carlos in panic. 

“I’m sorry,” Carlos said sheepishly when their eyes met, “I didn’t want to wake you, you look exhausted.” 

“It’s fine,” TK assured him hurriedly, leaning forward in his seat, “I’m just happy to see you awake again. How are you feeling?” 

“Better,” Carlos told him honestly, “still in pain and not feeling great, but my mind feels clearer than it has the last few times I woke up, I think. It’s all kind of a haze, to be honest.” 

TK’s expression darkened as he leaned forward, placing the back of his hand on Carlos’s forehead, “I’m not surprised, the infection they were worried about came, and it hit you hard. You don’t feel warm anymore, I think the fever finally broke.” 

Carlos frowned at his boyfriend as he leaned back into his seat, “How long has it been?” 

“We’re on day 3 now. Well, night 3. It’s after midnight now.”

“Shit,” Carlos said, leaning his head back into the pillows and TK chuckled lightly.

“That about sums it up, yeah. That’s what happens when a piece of rusty metal impales you. They think that it got into your bloodstream which is why the infection spread so fast and, well it was really scary, Carlos.” 

There was quiet for a few moments as they both got lost in their own thoughts. Carlos opened his mouth, but TK shook his head. 

“Don’t apologize,” he said firmly, “none of this is your fault.” 

“I wasn’t going to,” Carlos said defensively, choosing to ignore TK’s skeptical eyebrow, “I was going to thank you, for being here. I know it can’t have been easy.” 

TK’s expression softened and he lifted himself out of his chair, coming to rest on the side of Carlos’s bed. “There’s nowhere else I would have wanted to be,” he told him honestly, “you needed me and that’s where I will always be, no matter what.”  

Carlos smiled at him and shifted over in the bed to make more room. Or at least, that is what he planned to do. Instead, his movements were brought to an abrupt halt by a flash of pain as he jostled his side again, freezing his movements and pulling a gasp from his lips. 

TK’s hands were on him in an instant, steady and reassuring. “Hey, try not to move too much,” he admonished lightly, “you’re still injured.” He gestured down to his side, “Does it hurt badly?” 

“Yeah,” Carlos admitted, “but I’ll be fine. You’re here and that’s all I need.” 

TK studied him for a moment before breaking out in laughter. “Carlos Reyes,” he said between breaths, “you are a sap. And while that’s sweet, I think some pain medication might help too.” 

He leaned around Carlos to reach for the call button and Carlos sighed in defeat. 

“Fine,” he relented, “but I’d much rather have you.” 

“Whoever said the two were mutually exclusive, babe?” TK asked him, leaning forward and pressing a light kiss to his forehead, “I’m not going anywhere, and that’s a promise.” 

[kiras-sunshine]

give me the burden, give me the blame

a little 2x12 coda for @911lonestarangstweek ‘s day 2

g is for guilt

words: 4.3k

summary:

TK knows he is stalling, trying to waste time, because the mere thought of calling Carlos is making the taste of bile rise up in his throat and it intensifies the ugly simmering feeling of pure guilt in between his ribs to the point that he feels like he cannot breathe.

read on ao3

[reyesstrand]

pink skies will keep me warm

tarlos + carlos’ family / teen+ / 2.1k

He’s already feeling guilty about not being able to make it to this week’s Sunday dinner with Carlos, especially since it was going to be their way of officially introducing TK to the family. So it feels a little bit like the universe is out to get him when they’re called out to Tia Lucy’s to respond to worries about an allergic reaction.

@911lonestarangstweek day seven: free choice

dedicated to the amazing mods of this event!! thank you for putting the work into another fun content creating week @marjansmarwani and @silvarafael ��

"I'm impressed, Strand."

TK drags his eyes up from his seemingly endless paperwork, tapping his pen against the side of the clipboard as he cocks a brow at Nancy. "What do you mean?"

"Well," Nancy glances down at her watch for dramatic effect, before looking back up at him. "That was your fifth exasperated sigh in the past twenty minutes. I think you might've just broken a record."

She smiles at him, ripping into a box of twenty-gauge needles to restock the bus.

Despite his best efforts, TK can't think of much else to say besides, "right, okay," before he turns back to his work.

"What, no comeback?" Nancy asks, and TK shrugs. "Are you running a fever or something?"

"I—" TK hesitates, scuffing his shoe against the ground. He knows he can trust Nancy, and she's never afraid to tell things to him straight, so he rubs at the back of his neck and finally admits: "I'm a bad boyfriend."

Nancy furrows her brows at him. "That's the biggest lie I've ever heard."

"It's true!" TK exclaims, plopping down on the step at the back of the ambulance. "I was supposed to go with Carlos to his aunt's for dinner, it's like...a big weekly thing for his family. Actually, I'm supposed to have gone with him for the past three weeks, but I'm always working, so now he's left covering for me again. And don't get me wrong, I love this job, but—"

"Whoa, slow down there," Nancy says, resting a hand on his shoulder. After a moment of silence, she says, "I'm sure they'll understand, TK."

"I just hate that I keep putting him in this position," TK mutters, staring down at his clasped hands.

Nancy opens her mouth to say something else, but that's when the alarm goes off about a multiple-vehicle accident that would require several medical units for transport to the hospital. TK just pats Nancy on the shoulder, and heads to the driver's seat when Captain Vega emerges from her office and rallies them up to head out.

TK just focuses on the task at hand, and tries not to think about his boyfriend apologizing to his family because of him, for the third week in a row. Gripping the steering wheel tight, he just drives, and tries to ignore the guilt spreading throughout his chest, hot like flames.

READ THE REST ON AO3!!

[guardian-angle22]

911: Lone Star Angst Week | Season 3 In the Unlikely Event of an Emergency

[911lonestarangstweek]

Let’s shout out some of our favourite angsty friends! In the tags or in asks, send us your favourite angsty lone star pieces (fic, art, gifs, moodboards - everything goes!) and we’ll add them to our upcoming angst rec list!

[morganaspendragonss]

I dunno if you’d be up for it, but if you are, I have a prompt!!! I’ve always wanted to see someone write TK healing in the aftermath of getting shot, they said that he wasn’t breathing for a while, and that he might have brain damage because of it, and I kind of wish they’d shown that. So if it’s okay with you, maybe a little tarlos getting together around TK struggling with motor function (like having shaky limbs or not being able to write or hold things) and speech (having trouble verbalising and stuttering and saying the wrong words at the wrong times) because of how long he was without oxygen? And Carlos helping him through it? :):):);) lots of love!!!!

another domino falls

@911lonestarangstweek: the return day 1 - gunshot wound ao3 | 1.2k | brain damage, hospitals, owen and carlos bonding

He can’t believe it when TK finally does wake up. There have been so many almosts over the past week, when TK’s fingers twitched, or there was a flicker behind his eyelids, or a moan that sounded a little too much like a mumble, that Owen has started to ignore the little burst of hope they give him.

So, when TK does wake up, he’s prepared to be disappointed again. He’s prepared for TK’s eyes to stay shut and for him to lapse back into silence, like all the other times. He’s prepared for Zoe’s pity and the I’m sorry that will accompany it when it turns out to be another false alarm.

So, when it isn’t…

When it isn’t, and TK calls for him and jolts in the bed, panicked and confused and scared and young, Owen is blinded by the sheer joy and relief of his son being awake; so blinded that he misses all the signs that will be so clear through the lens of hindsight. But he’s happy, so he chalks the slurred voice and the disorientation up to brain fog, to his body getting used to firing on all cylinders again.

He’ll hate himself for that, later, but not as much as he will for what happens next.

Because the worst thing – the very worst thing he’s ever done – is not be there for TK when he needs him.

*

TK is taken for tests pretty quickly after he wakes up, and he falls asleep two minutes after he’s brought back, so Owen takes the opportunity to step outside and make the necessary calls. To Gwyn, to reassure her that things are looking up; to the chief, to bargain for more time off. To Judd, confident in his ability to relay the message to the rest of the team and prevent them from storming the hospital.

He’s in the middle of an incredibly awkward conversation with Officer Reyes, whose number he’d practically forced out of him the night of the shooting, when all his reassurances suddenly become moot. A muffled cry goes up from TK’s room, followed by a crash, and Owen abandons his phone to dart back inside. What he sees makes his blood run cold – TK, in a heap on the floor, blood soaking through his hospital gown where his stitches must have ripped, his head on a swivel like he’s searching for something.

Owen drops to his knees in front of him, reaching out to grab his good shoulder before he can think better of it. TK jerks away violently, almost hitting his head on the bedside table, and his breathing becomes even more panicked, as if he doesn’t know who Owen is. The thought terrifies him, but then he takes in TK’s defensive posture and the way his eyes flick one way, then the other, and that thought pales in comparison to his next.

It’s not like he doesn’t know who Owen is.

It’s like he doesn’t know he’s even there.

“TK,” Owen breathes, but he doesn’t get any further before there are hands pulling him away and bodies blocking him from his son. He’s forced out the room and forced to watch as TK is sedated, uncoordinated movements slowing before relaxing into sleep.

His phone buzzes with a text; Gwyn letting him know that she’ll be on the next flight over. On impulse, he sends her a thumbs up back; she’ll be furious at him later for not telling her the minute things went wrong, but Owen thinks he can live with that. Even the fastest flight from Shanghai is over sixteen hours, and he doesn’t want her worrying the whole way. He’ll tell her when they know more; when the doctors tell him that this was just a scare and TK is going to be fine. 

He has to be.

*

By the time the doctor comes with an update, Owen is on the verge of breaking all his principles and tearing his hair out. It shouldn’t be taking this long, not with the tests already being done before the incident. He flips his phone in his hand, every minute regretting not telling Gwyn what’s going on, but she’ll be in the air by now and Owen doesn’t know what to do.

“Captain Strand?”

His head jerks up, expecting to see a pair of scrubs, and instead being met with the wide, worried eyes of Officer Reyes. He gapes, unsure what to say, and Reyes grimaces.

“I’m sorry to intrude, sir,” he says. “I just… Over the phone, I heard…”

“Captain Strand.”

This time it is the doctor, and they both whirl around to face him. He looks uncertainly between the two of them, then down at his clipboard, then back up to Reyes. Owen can tell by the look on his face that Reyes is about to make his excuses and leave, so he jumps in before either of them can say anything.

“This is Officer – Carlos Reyes,” he says. “He’s TK’s partner.”

Reyes doesn’t exactly hide his surprise well, but thankfully the doctor decides not to argue, looking down at his notes once more before launching into his speech.

“We have determined that the sudden cardiac arrest your son experienced has caused some damage to parts of the brain that deal with eyesight. Although his eyes were functioning normally, he was suffering from complete loss of vision.” He flips his clipboard around to show them some scans, pointing out the darker areas. “There are also some lesions to the cerebellum and frontal lobe, so we can expect some speech and coordination difficulties. Ataxia – poor muscle control – is a common complication in cases like your son’s. When he wakes up from the sedation, we will assess him to determine the severity of the damage and to formulate a rehabilitation plan. Do you have any questions?”

Owen’s mouth opens and closes, but it’s Officer Reyes who speaks, an unidentifiable tremor to his voice.

“Is it permanent?”

The doctor’s mouth twists. “I’m afraid we don’t know. He may recover, partially or fully, or he may not. More than likely, he will experience long-term effects of the cardiac arrest, and he will need extensive monitoring over the next few weeks, if not longer.” He pauses, letting the news sink in. “Is there anything else?”

“No.” Owen shakes his head. “Thank you.”

The doctor nods and leaves, and Owen is alone again with a man he barely knows, but who is so clearly also wishing for TK’s recovery. He looks over at him. “I’m sorry if I overstepped. I just thought you deserved to know.”

It takes a second for Reyes to catch on, but when he does he nods at Owen, avoiding his gaze. “I appreciate it.”

Owen studies him, the hunch of his shoulders and the way his eyes keep flicking to TK’s room. “You care for my son,” he says simply.

Reyes hesitates, then nods again. “Yes.”

He smiles wryly and claps the young man on the shoulder. “Have patience with him. I hope to see you a lot more in the future, Carlos.”

Carlos looks up, startled by the use of his first name, but it’s enough to pull a smile out of him, small though it might be. “Me too, sir.”

[tarlos-spain]

Tarlos Angst week Día 1

Título: A cualquier precio

Propt: Gunshot wound

Resumen: Carlos había conseguido cerrar por fin el horrible capítulo de su vida que suponía el asesinato de su padre. Ya sabía quien se lo había arrebatado, quien le había matado y por qué. Era hora de seguir adelante con su vida y con su familia. TK y Jonah, su hijo, ese maravilloso niño que había entrado a forma parte imprescindible de su día a día le necesitaban. Pero haber recibido un disparo a unos cuantos cientos de kilómetros y tener que pasar unos innecesarios días allí, solo le hacía estar nervioso y querer salir corriendo. No fue una genialidad pedir el alta antes de tiempo, mentir y decir que le esperaban en el hospital de Austin. Pero cuando Carlos Reyes se obsesionaba por algo, ni siquiera una herida de bala iba a detenerle y mucho menos para regresar a casa con las dos personas más quería en el mundo.

Notas: Es hora de comenzar la Tarlos Angst Week, así que aquí estoy. He decidido cambiar un poco la idea porque me cuesta bastante escribir en estos días, pero con el Tarlos todo es más fácil, así que nada de buscar por temporadas, simplemente he dejado que las ideas fluyeran y ver por donde salía todo.

CAPÍTULO 1

Dejar el hospital antes de tiempo no había sido la mejor idea, decirle al médico que se encontraba bien y que quería el alta voluntaria, tampoco y desde luego mentirle a TK y a su madre, haciéndoles creer que todo estaba bien, escondiéndoles que le dolía todo el cuerpo, le iba a salir caro si se enteraban en algún momento.

Pero Carlos necesitaba volver a casa.

Le habían dicho que solo serían tres o cuatro días, tiempo que debía estar en la cama de un maldito hospital a cientos de kilómetros lejos de casa, lejos de TK, ahora que el asesino de su padre tenía un rostro, ahora que podía dormir tranquilo.

Pero había terminado herido, con un disparo en el costado y los médicos se habían insistido en permanecer en observación.

“Estoy bien, solo necesito estar en casa.”

“Agente Reyes, la bala ha quedado muy cerca del pulmón, ha tenido mucha suerte que no lo rozara, incluso ha sido afortunado de que no le rompiera la costilla. Necesita descansar y nosotros asegurarnos…”

“Mi familia me está esperando. Le agradezco mucho lo que están haciendo, pero tengo a mi marido en casa con un niño pequeño y me necesitan.”

No podía dejar de pensar que era un gran egoísta si se tomaba esos días de descanso mientras TK se hacía cargo de los primeros días de Jonah con ellos. Los necesitaba a ambos después de separarse de su padre. No debía ser nada fácil para el niño estar lejos de Enzo y tampoco debía serlo para TK hacerse cargo de su hermano pequeño, por mucho que estuviera entusiasmado con la idea.

“Yo solo puedo recomendarle que se quede con nosotros hasta que le hagamos al menos una revisión más de la herida.”

“¿Puedo hacerla en Austin?”

“Por supuesto, no puedo retenerle aquí contra su voluntad agente, pero…”

“Agradezco lo que han hecho por mí estos dos días, pero, me encuentro bien y prefiero continuar la recuperación en casa.”

“¿Querrá decir la rehabilitación?”

Carlos no diría nunca que había desoído las palabras del médico, jamás diría en voz alta que había decidido llevarle la contraría o incluso olvidarse de seguir sus indicaciones, además de no pasar por el hospital para hacerse una revisión de la herida.

Simplemente había decidido no preocupar a TK, ni a su madre ni a ninguna de las personas que le rodeaban y que sabían lo que había ocurrido en el desierto.

La historia oficial, lo que había llegado a oídos de TK, era que el disparo no había sido más que un rasguño, un susto afortunado y que Sam le había salvado la vida. Eso último era una verdad absoluta y desde luego, la herida se había quedado en un susto, solucionado con una rápida operación.

Era normal que doliera, era normal que le costara moverse con normalidad, tampoco había por qué preocupar demasiado a nadie con ello o quedarse más tiempo del necesario en una cama de hospital.

Así que había regresado a casa con medias verdades para todo el mundo y con el terror de enfurecer a su madre y al propio TK si algo iba mal; pero con la sensación de que se había quitado el mayor peso de encima al permitir que su padre descansara finalmente.

Tres días en casa, con la nueva normalidad que suponía ser uno más en su pequeña familia, viendo la sonrisa de Jonah todos los días, incluso cuando había alguna pequeña pelea o cuando alguno de los dos tenía que ponerse serio y reprender al pequeño para que no hiciera algo indebido; Carlos era feliz y sabía que había merecido la pena jugársela dejando el hospital.

La herida dolía y tal vez un poco más de descanso, menos carreras por la casa detrás de Jonah, madrugar menos para seguir el paso del pequeño y de TK o tomarse las cosas con un poco más de calma no le vendría bien.

Pero ahora que se sentía finalmente feliz y ahora que podía decirlo, no quería perder un momento.

Eso significaba también seguir el ritmo de Jonah cuando el juego se trataba de evitar a los tiburones que intentaban subir al barco que había hecho con cojines en medio del salón. A su cuerpo no le hacía demasiada gracia estar sentado en el suelo y tirado dando vueltas como una croqueta cuando el pequeño tiburón martillo, que tanto le gustaba ser a Jonah, intentaba atacarle.

Pero Carlos seguía jugando, porque hacía poco que había descubierto que le gustaban los niños, le encantaban los niños… tal vez no los niños en general, porque la idea de estar rodeado de niños, le ponía nervioso. No sabía moverse entre ellos como TK, que se sentía como un igual entre ellos en el mejor sentido del término.

Carlos tenía problemas con los niños por el mismo motivo que se sentía especialmente cómodo siendo policía. Necesitaba normas, horarios, sentido para todos y los niños adoraban adoraban el caos, el ruido y el sinsentido. Todo era posible para un niño, todo podía ser un juego siempre que su imaginación lo permitiera.

Pero Jonah era diferente. Jonah era parte de TK y eso lo hacía parte de él también.

“¡Cuidado Papa Carlos! ¡Qué viene el tiburón!”

Jonah estaba preparado para jugar en todo momento, mientras que Carlos estaba perdido en los pensamientos que se le habían acumulado, perdidos en su mente desde hacía meses, cuando solo había podido pensar en la muerte de su padre.

De repente lo tenía encima, ahí estaba el pequeño tiburón, dispuesto a atacar, a devolverlo, a demostrar lo fuerte que era, como todo cachorro de la manada, quería demostrar ya que era más fuerte que los mayores.

Carlos solo tuvo tiempo de atraparlo entre sus brazos para que no se le estampara encima, pero el golpe fue igual. No había cumplido todavía los cuatro años, pero ya denotaba que iba a ser un muchacho alto y fuerte y como tal, cuando sus rodillas se estamparon en su vientre, notó que una recaída completamente contra la diana de la herida todavía no curada del disparo.

Si disimuló perfectamente bien el dolor que acababa de dejarle pálido y sin respiración, no pudo estar seguro pero por fortuna, su único testigo era un niño de menos de cuatro años, que no se había dado cuenta de lo que había ocurrido.

TK estaba poniendo en orden el dormitorio y no había visto nada.

Por eso, Carlos quedó tendido en el suelo, las rodillas todo lo pegadas al cuerpo que pudo para soportar el dolor y también para respirar lo mejor que su torturado abdomen se lo permitía; al mismo tiempo que hacía un gran esfuerzo por parecer estar bien delante del niño.

“Jonah, mi amor, ¿Podrías ir a decirle a Papá TK que venga?”

El niño asintió serio, prestando toda la atención posible a las palabras de Carlos, dispuesto a cumplir la nueva misión del tiburón y salió corriendo hacia la habitación. Carlos se preguntó si habría notado algo ya.

Cuando estaba solo, dejó salir un estertor de dolor y casi se echó a llorar, pero fue capaz de controlarse.

“¡Papa bro!” Llamó Jonah a TK en cuanto lo vio en el dormitorio poniendo bien las sábanas de la cama de sus tutores a los que ya consideraba sus padres. “¡Papa bro!”

“Hey, peque, ¿Qué pasa? ¿Va todo bien?”

“No, papá Carlos… se ha hecho pupa.” Dijo Jonah con los ojos cubiertos de lágrimas.

“Vale.” TK besó la cabeza del niño para calmarlo, pero sobre todo para calmarse él mismo. “Necesito que te quedes aquí un momento. Puedes usar mi tablet para llamar al yayo Owen mientras veo cómo está papá.”

Jonah asintió, TK le dio otro besó y fue al salón, intentando simular que no estaba a punto de perder los nervios. Una vez seguro de que el niño no le veía y ya en el salón, se encontró a Carlos en el suelo, todavía hecho una bola; intentaba abrazarse a las piernas, aunque eso no hacía que el dolor fuera menor.

En cuanto se acercó un poco, se dio cuenta que Carlos estaba sudando y estaba extremadamente pálido, porque le costaba respirar, mientras se apretaba el costado con una mano.

“Carlos baby, ¿Qué pasa? ¿Te han saltado los puntos? Dime que necesitas.”

Carlos le agarró la mano y tiró de él para que se sentara a su lado y de paso para recuperar un momento el aliento.

“Duele… mucho… las costillas. Me cuesta respirar.” Dijo entre dientes, mientras todavía temblaba y las lágrimas caían por su mejilla.

“¿Por qué? Quiero decir, ¿Qué ha pasado? ¿Has hecho algún movimiento raro? Mira que te dije que tuvieras cuidado unos días por mucho que te hubieran dado el alta.”

Carlos gimió y todo el rapapolvo que le estaba echando TK dejó de tener importancia al ver el dolor en su rostro.

“Dime qué necesitas.”

“Solo quedarme un momento… y un cojín por favor… pero no te enfades… por favor.”

TK gruñó, no enfadarse iba a ser complicado, porque ya estaba cabreado. Era paramédico y como era capaz de darse cuenta que Carlos se había excedido esos días, se había comportado y movido como si no hubiera pasado nada. Había hecho como si hubiera vuelto de un día cualquiera en el trabajo. Apenas había hablado del hospital, de la herida o de haber sufrido un incidente.

“No quiero preocuparte, ni que Jonah se asuste. Además mi madre ha pasado bastante con lo de mi padre.”

Ahora quería gritarle, pero lo primero era asegurarse que no se hubiera hecho daño de verdad y que los puntos estuvieran en su sitio. Lo primero también era abrazarlo y hacerle sentir bien, por muy enfadado que estuviera con su marido, su bienestar y su seguridad, igual que la de Jonah eran lo primero.

“Vale, vale, no me enfado… de momento.” Sonrió TK. “Quédate donde estás, voy a coger un cojín.” Se lo puso bajo la cabeza y otro contra el pecho. “Voy a coger una bolsa, no se te ocurra moverte.” No podía, así que no lo hizo. “¿Podrías decirme qué es lo que ha pasado?” Siguió diciendo TK, mientras controlaba su respiración.

“Jonah está bien, no pretendía asustarle.” Comenzó a decir Carlos, mientras intentaba evitar llorar.

“Carlos, mi amor, Jonah estaba muerto de miedo y no era para menos viéndote así y tú lo estás pasando fatal porque te duele mucho. Dime qué coño ha pasado para que hayas terminado así.”

Carlos respiró con fuerza cuando TK se lo pidió, aunque eso provocó más dolor en su interior y se dio cuenta que tampoco podía meter demasiado aire en sus pulmones.

“Estábamos jugando, Jonah se lo estaba pasando muy bien y se dejó llevar. Me saltó encima, intenté pararlo, pero cayó encima de la herida.”

“Carlos.” Dijo TK en un suspiro imaginando lo doloroso que debía haber sido ese momento.

“El dolor explotó y me quedé sin aire, pero creo que ahora me siento ya bastante mejor.”

Mentía, Carlos mentía y no hacía falta ser ni un experto médico ni el mejor paramédico del mundo para darse cuenta de que apenas podía respirar y que lo estaba pasando fatal por culpa del dolor.

Después de darle un fuerte analgésico para el dolor, TK se tomó un momento para controlar la herida, no había llegado a abrirse los puntos, pero estaba muy enrojecido y seguía sin gustarle la respiración entrecortada de Carlos. Además aunque la herida estaba más o menos cerrada, desde que había llegado a casa, había sido el propio Carlos el que se había ocupado de curarla después de las duchas o por la mañana y en la noche.

Había estado tan preocupado con Jonah que no se había dado cuenta que Carlos apenas le había permitido ver cómo estaba.

Ahora entendía por qué.

“Por cierto, ¿Por qué te preocupaba que me enfadara? Sé que a Jonah le encanta jugar contigo y no conoce muy bien la fuerza que tiene.” Dijo mientras le ayudaba a ponerse lo más cómodo posible en el sofá.

“Lo siento.”

TK se lo quedó mirando, sentado en la mesa de café. Acarició su mejilla y le dio un beso largo.

“Tyler yo…”

“Esta herida no estaba bien curada del todo cuando saliste del hospital. ¿Cómo te dieron alta en estas condiciones? ¿Por qué no me dijiste nada?”

Carlos se mordió el labio y TK sabía muy bien lo que significaba ese gesto… demasiado bien. Su marido le estaba escondiendo algo y le daba miedo decirlo en voz alta.

“Mentí en el hospital, quería venir a casa lo antes posible. Les dije que estaba bien y que me haría ver en el hospital en cuanto llegara para asegurarme que todo está bien.”

“Carlos…” TK le tomó las mejillas. “¿Te das cuenta de lo peligroso que es lo que has hecho? Esta herida se te podría haber infectado o…”

Carlos se dejó caer un poco hacia delante, sabiendo que TK lo recogería y apoyó la cabeza sobre el pecho de su marido. Le dolía todo y le costaba pensar y sentía que la cabeza estaba a punto de estallar. No respirar parecía ahora el menor de los malos, sobre todo cuando TK lo miraba con esa expresión suya de decepción.

“No quería estar tanto tiempo lejos de casa, de ti… de Jonah.”

Carlos tomó una profunda bocanada de aire para poder seguir hablando, mientras sentía la mano de TK acariciando su cabello y su cuello.

Cerró los ojos y se quedó ahí, todavía temblando, pero dejó que su marido le recostara de nuevo en el sofá y notó ahora sus dos manos levantando su ropa para echar un vistazo a la herida.

“De pronto sabía quién era el asesino de mi padre y sabía por qué lo había hecho. Me había quitado toda esa mierda de encima.” Tosió, dolía, pero TK se lo había pedido.

Gimió y agarró la mano de TK para evitar gritar y llamar la atención de Jonah o asustarle.

“Lo sé, sé que duele pero necesito escuchar tus pulmones. ¿Has pensado lo irresponsable que fue lo que hiciste?”

“Yo solo… de pronto estaba lejos de vosotros y me di cuenta que llevaba mucho tiempo lejos de ti, obsesionado con la muerte de mi padre y me estaba perdiendo la llegada de Jonah aquí a casa.” Carlos gruñó de nuevo, el costado dolía cada vez más, contra más hablaba. “Estos meses han sido… una nube… lo siento… mierda… Solo quería volver a casa con mi familia.” TK iba a decir algo más, probablemente iba a reñirle un poco más y se lo merecía, pero Carlos le agarró la mano y tiró de él. “Tenía… miedo.” Gimió antes de volver a toser y sentir que se rompía algo en su interior que le hacía gritar.

TK no estaba seguro si quería seguir con la reprimenda o llenarle de besos para hacerle sentir bien. Pero ver sus ojos llenos de lágrimas y el dolor en su rostro solo le daba ganas de abrazarse a él y hacerle sentir bien.

“Lo entiendo, pero pusiste tu vida en peligro, babe.”

“No pensé que pasaría nada malo por irme unos días antes del hospital.”

TK sabía la respuesta que le iba a dar Carlos incluso antes de hacer la pregunta, pero aun así tenía que decirlo.

“Bueno, pues lo que necesitas ahora es descansar y tumbarte, ya que imagino que no quieres ir a urgencias a que te vea un médico.”

Desde luego, Carlos quería quejarse, porque Carlos odiaba los hospitales. Odiaba ver a TK en una cama de hospital y había salido corriendo de uno, aunque las consecuencias eran las que estaba sufriendo ahora.

Quería decir que no, que se pasaría y que podía soportar el dolor. Quería preguntarle a TK si él creía necesario llevarle a urgencias. Seguramente estar casado con un paramédico experimentado como TK era más que suficiente para limpiar la herida y hacer lo que hiciera falta.

Pero sentía que algo iba mal. No poder respirar bien no era buena señal, el dolor que sentía en toda la zona intercostal y donde había recibido el disparo tampoco, incluso la fiebre que sentía que empezaba a subirle… aunque tal vez no fuera un poco de paranoia no le ayudaba en absoluto.

“No quiero ir…” Dijo por fin, intentó incorporarse, pero la habitación comenzó a dar vueltas y sintió náuseas. La mano de TK apoyada en su pecho impidió que su pecho se venciera. “Pero no quiero darte… más sustos.”

TK miró un momento al dormitorio, Jonah se reía hablando con Owen, aunque no fuera su hijo, ni directamente su nieto, su padre había conectado en seguida con el niño y había incluido en su familia sin pedir nada, sin preguntar y con la devoción de su verdadero abuelo.

Por lo menos el niño estaba tranquilo, jugando a través de la tablet con sus muñecos de superhéroes y TK estaba escuchando a su padre poner voces al otro lado de la tablet. Estaba todo controlado.

“Si Jonah me deja hablar con mi padre dos minutos, creo que puedo pedirle que venga para cuidar del peque. ¿Cómo de malo es el dolor ahora mismo?”

“TK…”

“Prometo no enfadarme si no te mueres.” Dijo riéndose y le dio un beso largo que logró calmarlo lo suficiente para que pudiera responder.

“Ocho si respiro profundamente… aunque en realidad no puedo hacerlo.” Carlos tosió y se llevó las manos al abdomen. “Mejor… no… hacerlo.”

“Deja que eche otro vistazo, pero algo me dice que vamos a tener que ir a urgencias y que voy a tener que pedirle ayuda a Nancy y el equipo que esté hoy de guardia para llevarte.”

“¿En ambulancia?” Protestó Carlos, casi con tono infantil y además lo remató con esos ojos de cordero degollado con los que TK apenas podía luchar.

“Carlos no me hagas esto, nada de juegos sucios con esa mirada.”

Los dos se echaron a reír, pese a que el miedo y la preocupación recorrían sus cuerpos y sus miradas lo decían todo.

[benjaminrussell]

911 Lone Star Angst Week Masterpost

Here’s all the fics I wrote for @911lonestarangstweek round 2. I challenged myself both by writing whump and by writing them all in present tense, so it’s been a great event!

For full tags etc, see AO3.

Day 1: C - Carlos + Choke Choke on the Memories [ T | 0.8k ]

In the aftermath of the house fire, Carlos has nightmares. Thankfully TK is there to comfort him when he wakes up.

Day 2: G - Grace + Gunshot Six Shots in a Loaded Gun [ T | 1.5k ]

A simple grocery run turns into a hostage situation, and Grace has to channel her ability to keep calm while dealing with other people’s emergencies into her own, very real one.

Day 3: J - Judd + Jealous Jealous of the Wind [ M | 3.2k ]

Judd doesn’t realise it, but he has a stalker. A stalker convinced that Judd ruined their relationship and who’s out for revenge. When they meet, it starts with Judd being kidnapped and only goes downhill from there, until Judd isn’t sure whether he’s ever going to make it home to Grace.

Day 4: M - Marjan&Mateo + Missing Isn’t Someone Missing Us? [ T | 3k ]

When Marjan and Mateo don’t turn up for a shift, the others know something’s wrong but can’t contact them to find out what happened and whether they need help. Meanwhile, the missing firefighters have to work together if they want to make it out of the perilous situation that they’ve found themselves in.

Day 5: N - Nancy + Nights Nights That Never Die [ T | 2k ]

Nancy’s heading home from the bar, a walk she’s done many times before, when she interrupts an assault. She tries to help but only gets hurt for her trouble, and so has to fight to keep both herself and the victim alive.

Day 7: P - Paul + Pinned Pinned Like a Butterfly [ T | 2.4k ]

The 126 are clearing a burning warehouse when something explodes and in the resulting destruction, Paul gets pinned. Unable to free himself and being confronted by the arsonist, will his friends get to him in time before the fire engulfs the entire building?

Day 8: T - TK&Tommy(&Tim) + Trapdoor Fall Through a Bleeding Trapdoor [ T | 2.5k ]

EMS 126 get sent to treat a man who slipped and hit his head, and Tommy and TK inadvertently stumble upon a crime scene.