#Sorry that you're going to get almost flambéd twice Carlos

[chicgeekgirl89]

Don’t Quit Your Day Job

Written for @badthingshappenbingo​

Fandom: 911 Lone Star

Characters: Carlos Reyes, T.K. Strand

Prompt: Hurts to Breathe

Summary: When Carlos goes on a welfare check he finds himself in a situation a little outside of his norm. And he is definitely not interested in a career change. Written for the Bad Things Happen Bingo prompt "Hurts to Breathe."

AO3 Link

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It started out as a welfare check. Simple. Easy. Something Carlos enjoyed. If he could bring some light into the day of someone who was typically shut in at home it made the nastier parts of his job worth it.

The low income housing complex buzzed with the sounds of family. Kids running up and down the stairs, women calling to each other from apartment to apartment, and the smells of familiar food drifting through the halls made the place feel homey despite the peeling paint and walls stained with years of cigarette smoke and dirty hands. 

It took a while for Mr. Lopez to respond to their knocks, probably because he was pushing eighty-five and nearly blind. Still, he smiled cheerily as he welcomed Carlos and his partner inside. “We just wanted to check on you Mr. Lopez,” Mitchell said. “Your daughter called and said you hadn’t answered your phone in a few days.”

“Oh I can’t find it,” he responded. “Lost the thing and don’t know where I put it.”

It wasn’t the first time they’d made a visit to Mr. Lopez’s residence. He misplaced his phone on a regular basis and Carlos always worried that they would find him in something other than perfect health, but so far the man had proved to be pretty resilient. 

“Here it is Mr. Lopez,” Carlos said, pulling it from under a couch cushion and turning up the volume. “I’m going to put it on the table for you okay?”

“Oh, thank you so much,” he said.

“Mr. Lopez are you doing okay in here? Is there anything that you need?” Mitchell asked as Carlos made a quiet and careful inspection of the cupboards and refrigerator. 

The contents were somewhat meager, a loaf of bread, a couple cans of beans. But the refrigerator revealed a tray of tamales, probably made by someone in the building if Carlos had to guess. It was good to know the neighbors were watching out for one another.

“No no, I am doing fine,” Mr. Lopez said. “My Angela, she just worries.”

They chatted for about fifteen minutes, the elderly man sharing stories about his grandchildren and generally basking in having the attention of his guests.

Unfortunately they couldn’t stay all day. “Mr. Lopez—“ Carlos began to say goodbye but cut himself off as an unpleasant smell wafted past his nose. 

He sniffed the air, forehead wrinkling. “Reyes?” Mitchell asked.

“Do you smell that?”

She sniffed too. “Mr. Lopez do you have your stove on?” Carlos asked, already turning to check.

“No. I haven’t used it all day.”

Carlos moved to the door, sticking his head into the hallway, stomach sinking as the smell grew stronger. “It’s gas,” he said to Mitchell.

“Are you sure?”

“I live with a firefighter, I know what gas smells like.”

“I’ll call it in,” Mitchell said, reaching for her radio.

“We need to get everyone out of the building,” Carlos said, already moving to knock at the next apartment.

The smell grew stronger as they went door to door sending men, women, and children charging down the stairs and into the street. Fortunately the building was small; it didn’t take long to sound the alarm. Within minutes it was nearly empty, which was good because the smell was only growing sharper with each passing second. “I’ll get Mr. Lopez,” Carlos said as they sent the last group of people down the stairs. “Get outside and tell the first truck that it’s a potential leak and they need to get in here fast.”

He jogged back up to Mr. Lopez’s apartment to find him leaning heavily against the doorframe. “Come on Mr. Lopez,” he said, taking him by the arm. “We need to get out of here.”

They only made it to the second floor landing before the world exploded. One minute he was on his feet and the next Carlos was opening his eyes on the floor, head dizzy, lungs thick with smoke and ash. He tried to push himself to his feet but his muscles felt as if they’d liquified. Had he passed out? How long had they been lying on the ground breathing in smoke?

“Mr. Lopez?” He managed to get onto his knees, crawling blindly, trying to find the elderly man’s form.

There was a groan to his left and he turned, hands searching in the darkness, fumbling until his fingers found clothing and then a body. “Mr. Lopez!” he gasped. 

The man was unconscious and Carlos scrambled to try and find his pulse. It was there, but weak. “Mr. Lopez,” he choked out again, shaking the man a bit to try and rouse him. “Mr. Lopez come on!”

He sucked in a breath and choked, coughing so hard that tears began to stream down his face.

“Officer Reyes!”

At first he thought he was imagining someone yelling his name, but then the call came again. “Officer Reyes! Fire department! Call out!”

He tried to yell back, only managing a desperate wheeze the first time before finally the word, “Here!” croaked past his lips.

Within seconds a group of firefighters appeared through the smoke. “Take Mr. Lopez,” Carlos choked out as the first one pulled him to his feet. 

“How about we take you both sir?” the man said.

“I’m fine,” he started to say, but his knees buckled and he would have fallen if the man hadn’t held him up. 

“Let’s get you out of here,” he said and Carlos nodded.

He’d thought as soon as they got outside, away from the toxic fumes of gas and smoke that his breathing would ease, but if anything the fresh air only made him cough harder. His throat was burning and his chest was so tight he would have ripped his uniform open if he’d had the strength, just to get some relief from the pressure. 

The man sat him on the back of a firetruck and a paramedic he vaguely recognized in the way he vaguely recognized much of the city’s emergency personnel descended on him, oxygen and penlight at the ready. “I’m fine,” Carlos ground out, shocked out how gravelly his voice sounded.

“Sir you were in that building for almost ten minutes breathing in gas and smoke. I need to give you a once-over. No arguments,” she said when he opened his mouth to protest. “That’s part of my job, just like helping people is your job.”

Carlos could only nod, letting his head fall back against the truck as he struggled for breath.

“What’s your name Officer?”

“Reyes,” Carlos said, the word barely escaping his raw throat.

“Okay Officer Reyes, I’m Lila. I’m going to ask you a few questions. You can take your time answering. Did you hit your head?” 

Carlos swallowed hard and tried to remember. “I—I don’t know. There was an explosion and then I was on the ground.”

“That’s all right. Anything in particular hurting? Your head? Your legs?”

“Just my chest is tight.” God if that wasn’t an understatement. He felt like he was suffocating.

She slipped an oxygen mask over his face. “This should help. Try and take some nice, slow breaths,” she said as she reached for his wrist to take his pulse.

With the oxygen finally easing his breathing a little bit he began to notice the stinging in his eyes, the dizziness in his head, the lethargy he felt in his limbs. 

He closed his eyes for a moment trying to get his bearings. Everything seemed fuzzy around the edges. The next thing he knew a familiar voice was saying his name.

“Oh my god, Carlos?” T.K. dropped to one knee in front of him, eyes wide with horror. 

“Hey,” Carlos said, managing a slightly lopsided smile. “What are you doing here?”

“What am I—? Carlos what happened?” T.K. asked urgently. 

“Gas,” Carlos said, the word muffled by the oxygen mask and the hoarseness in his throat. “There was an explosion.”

“He yours T.K.?” Lila asked.

“Yes, he is,” T.K. said. “What’s the situation?”

“Pulse is a little fast, but strong. No fractures or concussion that I can tell. He took in a lot of smoke though, his lungs don’t sound great.”

Carlos pulled the oxygen away from his mouth. “Is Mr. Lopez all right?”

“My partner is working on him,” Lila said. “He’s in good hands.”

“Let’s just worry about you right now,” T.K. said, clearly vacillating between concerned paramedic and concerned boyfriend.

“I’m fine,” he insisted, just as he choked again and hacked a cough so hard it felt like his lungs were trying to leave his body.

“That’s definitely not all right,” T.K. said, jaw tight as he gently replaced the oxygen on Carlos’ face. “You’re going to the hospital.”

Carlos looked at him through watery eyes and T.K. seemed to sense every, single one of his feelings, the exhaustion, the fear, the annoyance, the pain, because he wrapped one of Carlos’ hands solidly in his own and gave it a gentle squeeze. “It’s okay,” T.K. said softly. “Just do what the doctors tell you and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Carlos nodded, allowing T.K. and Lila to help him to his feet and over to the ambulance where Mr. Lopez was already tucked in and waiting. “I have to go,” T.K. said, when Carlos was seated. He cupped Carlos’ cheek and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Carlos said. A thought finally crossed his mind, severely delayed apparently by trauma, and he grabbed T.K.’s hand as he turned to go. “My partner—“

“I’ll find her and tell her you’re okay,” T.K. assured him. “Just keep breathing deep and I’ll see you soon.”

They arrived at the hospital and Mr. Lopez was whisked away while Carlos was ushered to a bed in the ER where they hooked him up to a heart monitor and increased his oxygen with promises that a doctor would be with him shortly.

There were blood draws and x-rays and a lot of questions about whether or not he’d passed out, if he had any pre-existing conditions, if he had a headache, and a number of other things that Carlos did his best to answer, all while feeling like he’d been hit by a truck. 

They were nearly finished when T.K. appeared, making a beeline for Carlos’ curtain. “Hey,” he said, hands coming to rest on the bed rails, anxiety causing him to grip them tightly and turn his knuckles white. “Doc? How’s he doing?”

“I think he’ll make a full recovery,” the doctor said with a smile. “I’m going to send him home with an inhaler. And of course come back if you experience severe shortness of breath or any other alarming symptoms.”

“How are you feeling?” T.K. asked as the doctor left to go ready the discharge paperwork.

“Better,” Carlos said. The steady stream of oxygen had helped significantly, although being able to breathe properly meant he could now feel every other ache and pain in his body. He was going to be in a world of hurt tomorrow.

T.K. gave him a concerned smile as if he wasn’t sure Carlos was telling him the whole truth but didn’t want to push him. He brushed a stray curl from Carlos’ forehead. “Let’s get you home.”

“Aren’t you on shift?” Carlos asked.

“Babe it’s almost 5:30. My shift ended half an hour ago.”

Carlos shook his head. “I guess I lost track of time.”

“That’s okay.” T.K. rubbed his arm. “You’ve had a rough day.”

Carlos fell asleep almost immediately in the car and didn’t wake up until T.K. nudged him gently as they pulled into the driveway. 

He would have been fine with the couch but T.K. insisted he go all the way upstairs to bed. And Carlos insisted on a shower first because there was no way he was getting between clean sheets with ash and dirt and smoke in his hair.

“I can feel you worrying,” he said over the sound of the water.

Through the curtain he could see T.K.’s silhouette, arms crossed, leaning against the wall with a frown on his face. “You don’t have to stand there. I’m not going to collapse in the shower.”

“I’m good,” T.K. said stubbornly.

He silently held out a towel when Carlos finished, hovering as he dried off. “T.K. I swear to you that I can make from the ensuite to the bed without help,” Carlos said. 

“I’m just…here if you need me,” T.K. told him, attempting and failing at a nonchalant demeanor.

He did disappear while Carlos pulled on some boxers and a pair of sweatpants only to return moments later, a stack of pillows in his arms. Carlos raised his eyebrows from where he’d finally seated himself in bed. 

“Here.” T.K. shoved one behind him then reached for another.

“What are you doing?”

“We need to keep your airway open,” T.K. said as he grabbed a third.

“Babe, babe stop!” Carlos said, trying for a laugh, but only managing to send himself into another coughing fit. 

T.K. sank down onto the bed and rested a hand on Carlos’ knee until he caught his breath. “It’s okay,” Carlos said, managing a teary eyed smile, “it only hurts when I breathe.”

T.K. shook his head. “I am trying really hard not to freak out here.”

“Oh this is you not freaking out?” Carlos teased.

T.K. fixed him with a look. “I said trying.” His face softened and he gently poked a finger into Carlos’ shoulder for emphasis. “You are not a firefighter. You’re not supposed to be inside burning buildings. I think I have a right to be a little concerned.”

“If I’d had any choice in the matter I wouldn’t have been in there, trust me,” Carlos said. “Won’t happen again if I can help it. I’m definitely not interested in a career change.” 

T.K. still looked unsettled so Carlos took his hand and squeezed it. “I’ll be all right T.K. I promise. I just need a good night’s sleep.” 

“Do you want anything before you go to bed? Something to eat? Ibuprofen? Oh tea! I should make you some tea for your throat!” 

He started to get up but Carlos caught his hand and pulled him gently back down onto the bed. “Just…stay here with me?”

“Yeah, yes, of course,” T.K. said immediately, kicking off his shoes and sliding up against the headboard. 

He wrapped an arm around Carlos’ waist and Carlos released a long sigh, nestling back into his embrace. “I’m sorry that I scared you.”

“Shh,” T.K. said, pressing a kiss to his hair. “You don’t need to apologize. You were doing your job and I’m proud of you. That it’s going to take me a minute to deal with the emotional fallout is my own problem. You just close your eyes and go to sleep.”

“Thanks,” Carlos mumbled as T.K. began to run his fingers through his curls. 

For the first time all day he felt safe and relaxed and it wasn’t long before he drifted off to sleep.