#to be fair it's clearly on my mind because all this talk about her surgery coming up | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

possibilistfanfiction · 1 year ago

Note

for surgeons AU could we get some early days, maybe first date or something? obsessed with your work as always

[s/o to everyone who asked for their first date, love u, crossposting this au to ao3 now too i guess lol!]

‘don’t laugh.’

‘i’m not.’

you glare.

‘i swear, i’m not,’ she lies.

‘cam, you’re actively laughing. physically. audibly. at me.’

camila takes a deep breath and forces herself to frown. ‘okay. sorry. continue.’

‘bea is just — hot.’

you can tell that camila fights a grimace, which is fair, maybe, because she’s known beatrice for years through medical school. ‘she’s also very kind and understanding, if you wanted to, like, do something that would actually be fun for the both of you.’

‘hiking sounds fun.’

‘ava.’

it’s not all that often you feel the tightness in your chest that you remember from childhood: things are far less limited to you now. you have care you need, and your physical therapy and surgeries and medications are usually effective at letting you do whatever you want day-to-day. ‘just — don’t.’

camila sighs. ‘okay. but i promise bea wouldn’t think any less of you.’

you flop back on her sofa. ‘i know that, i really do. but it’s just so not sexy. and you know what is sexy? beatrice without a shirt on hiking ten miles, all sweaty and —‘

‘— it’s november, i’m pretty sure she’ll be wearing a shirt and a jacket —‘

‘— that’s not the point.’

camila loses her battle and does outright laugh at you now. ‘okay. well, to answer your question, you can borrow whatever of my gear you need, and i won’t tell bea.’

‘you’re a saint.’

to be fair, beatrice picks you up in her extremely clean subaru — you refrain from saying anything; it’s way too easy for it to actually be fun anyway — and offers you a breakfast sandwich and a coffee from, apparently, her favorite place near her house. it’s a cool, cloudy morning, typical november fair, and it’s still dark out, but you’re used to being up early or really at any time of day or night at this point. you’d done every spine decompression stretch you’ve ever learned in physical therapy, taken some ibuprofen, and truly have no plan other than hoping camila’s trekking poles — a very serious name for very fancy walking sticks — are enough to see you through.

beatrice, for her part, is clearly nervous, and it’s charming: she spends at least twenty minutes talking to you about all of the features of the hike and why it’s an ideal one for the two of you — ‘it’s moderate elevation gain up to the crest, about 2.5 miles, and, since it has southern exposure, we won’t get too much wind today.’ and, ‘if you want to keep going, it’s beautiful along the ridge, and there’s two mild peaks we could summit.’ and, ‘i’ve packed enough food and water for essentially however long we want to go; you can carry some if you’d like, if you didn’t pack much yourself.’ and, ‘anyway, the entire thing is wonderful and, in my experience, fairly empty, especially as it grows colder. but, just our luck: not much rain forecast for today.’ — and then asks, almost painfully awkward, about your last shift.

‘it was fine,’ you say, finishing your sandwich and making sure your trash is neatly packed up in the bag, with hers too. ‘but enough shop talk. i want to know about you.’

she blushes and you see, not for the first time but maybe in a way that’s more obvious than you have before, that beatrice is just a person after all, even if she’s unflappable at work.

‘it’s okay,’ you say, so she doesn’t shut down or feel embarrassed. ‘i don’t mind shop talk, but i’m just — i’m glad to spend the time with you, away from work. plus you’re like a total enigma. very mysterious. it’s kind of hot.’

you haven’t said explicitly this is a first date, but you’ve been on lots of first dates and you’re fairly certain this is one. you’re definitely certain when she laughs, her shoulders loosening down her spine, away from her ears, and says, ‘only kind of?’

‘well, i wasn’t sure if we were just colleagues or just friends or whatever.’

‘or whatever?’

you groan. ‘you’re extremely hot, are you kidding? i think it’s affecting my residency, actually. i get distracted by your hands and then i lose the plot.’

she takes that in, maybe more than you had meant to say but who cares at this point; you’d gotten up at 5 am for her on your day off, so it’s fairly clear how you feel. ‘you’re quite distracting yourself, dr. silva.’

‘in a good or bad way? like, sexy or annoying?’

she rolls her eyes; you can tell, even if she’s still watching the road. ‘it depends. often both.’

you grin, lean back in the seat. ‘i contain multitudes, what can i say. triple threat.’

‘sexy, annoying, and… ?’

‘brilliant, obviously.’

‘oh yes, obviously.’ you pull into a deserted parking lot amidst a lush green forest and a heavy early morning fog; it’s beautiful, and you don’t ever regret that you ended up here, but you feel particularly grateful for it now. ‘you are brilliant, ava.’ it’s serious, the way she says it and the way she squeezes your hand, just once, before she gets out of the car with a soft smile.

you watch her as subtly as you can as she puts on her gear, following suit as closely as you can without being too obvious about it. you know this is, objectively, really stupid and unnecessary, and jillian is probably spidey-senses yelling at you from somewhere in the world, but you have never wanted to impress someone so badly in your entire life. once beatrice is all ready to go, in her warm fleece quarterzip underneath a waterproof shell, a similar setup for her pants, her boots tied securely and her pack neatly zipped, poles ready at the correct height — so your elbows are at 90 degrees, camila had explained yesterday — and a beanie pulled down securely over her buzzed hair and ears.

‘the most important part for me,’ she says.

it takes you a second, but then you laugh. ‘you’re being funny.’

she makes sure her car is locked, zips the keys in a pocket inside her jacket, and then takes off down the trail. ‘i’ve been known to have a sense of humor from time to time.’

she’s not even walking that fast but it’s cold and jillian is mad at you all the time for how much you have to stand just for work, definitely without the however-many-long mile hike you’re about to go on. ‘the other interns are terrified of you, you know.’

beatrice turns toward you with a smirk. ‘and you’re not?’

‘well, i’ve seen you cry, once not even about a patient but about the fact that the coffee cart was out of earl grey tea.’

‘i hadn’t slept in thirty hours.’

you shrug — that’s probably true, but still — and bump her in the shoulder. ‘i like you,’ you tell her, honest, finally, amongst the moss and the ferns, the sun barely up, no one around to hear you. there’s a different kind of fear you feel when it comes to beatrice: not as dr. choi, indomitably talented and ruthlessly efficient resident, but as someone whose cologne you recognize, as someone who you want to make your grandma’s vatapáfor. ‘you’re kind to me.’

beatrice slows down for a moment — thank fucking god — and takes you in. you feel out of place often, and especially here, but the best thing about her is that, even if she senses it, she never faults you. ’that’s what you deserve.’ and then, ‘i hope i am. i want to be.’

you don’t know much about her, really: you know that she went to boarding school at 14 and had been at the top of her class at the best schools and programs in the world ever since; that she loves to be in nature and has known lilith for forever; that her accent loosens, just slightly, when she’s especially excited or especially exhausted. she likes otters, you’ve gathered, from a little pin on her coat, and she wants to go into cardio because it’s endlessly fascinating to her, and impossible, and miraculous. she runs so much admin for the free gender affirming surgery clinic even though it’s not her speciality and she certainly doesn’t have to; she learned asl last year, in addition to a host of other languages she speaks, to better communicate with patients and colleagues. you think, of anyone in your program, maybe of anyone at the hospital entirely, she’s chief superion’s favorite.

there are so many things you want to learn about her: what makes her scared and who she let take care of her after she had top surgery and what her favorite song is and what book made her cry as a child and if she likes comedies or is more of a drama kind of girl. you want, you can admit to yourself, to know everything about her in a way you’ve never quite wanted anything before.

‘you’re the best person i know.’ you’re worried it’s too much before she smiles — not at you, too shy, but you catch it anyway before she looks away.

‘that’s generous.’

‘still, true.’

she worries her lip before saying, ‘i am, technically, your boss.’

‘barely.’

‘ava.’

‘hmm. not dr. silva? doesn’t sound very position of power to me.’

‘i — i like you too.’ you watch her push her poles into the soft ground a little harder, like her whole body is fighting — to say what she means, or to not say it, you’re not sure.

you’ve had crossroads in your life before, most of them really fucking horrible — until they weren’t, until the world stretched out before you and opened up before you. you’ve talked over and over about this with jillian and the therapist she made sure you went to before you consented to any truly dangerous and experimental procedures or injections: disability was limiting, sure, but the real harm was done by the lack of care afforded you, not your lack of movement. you work so, so hard to believe it on good days; it’s nearly impossible on the worst.

but this is the best day, you decide. camila is right: beatrice is kind and caring and brave in ways you know; in ways you have yet to find out.

you’ve made it maybe half a mile into the hike but your back is aching, left foot going numb already, your right hand clenched too tight around the handle of the pole, so much so that even the soft cork of it hurts. so, instead of moving and moving and moving like you always do, like you have since the moment you could close your hands into fists so tight you swore you’d never let the world go: you stop.

bea takes a few more steps and then notices; she turns around and looks at you curiously.

‘sorry,’ you say, impulse and fear and habit, then shake your head. ‘actually, uh. i’m not? yeah, i’m not.’

she stands steady, unfazed by that. ‘okay.’

‘uh, well. i like you too. i already said that, but i really like you. i don’t — god, this sounds so stupid. but i don’t want to be your intern.’

the small, amused smile on beatrice’s face makes you feel better. ‘am i not a good teacher?’

‘i think there are lots of other things i would enjoy you teaching me.’ you close your eyes for a moment as she laughs, trying to regroup. ‘okay, i am sorry for that one.’

‘don’t be. i quite enjoyed it.’

‘before — before we tell chief superion anything, if you wanted to try, just — you should know that i shouldn’t have said yes to going on this hike.’

beatrice’s brow knits together, so immediately concerned you reach for her hand.

‘not because — it’s beautiful,’ you say. ‘you’re beautiful, and i’m so happy you asked me.’

she doesn’t look any less worried, which is fair.

‘i have a spinal cord injury,’ you say, and her face softens into something you’re terrified of for a moment, until you realize it’s only patience, only an opening for understanding — not pity, and certainly not anything close to contempt.

‘okay,’ she says, calmly and as kind as ever.

stupid, annoying tears burn at your eyes. ‘i just — you love hiking, and you asked and planned so nicely, and you wanted to share this special thing with me, and —‘

‘ava,’ she says, then brings her thumbs to wipe your cheeks with a gentle smile. ‘i just wanted to spend time with you. you’re right, i enjoy hiking, but i also enjoy lots of other things. things that i would also want to share with you.’

‘i should be using a cane at work,’ you admit, in the middle of this beautiful forest where no one but her can hear you. ‘i haven’t been because i didn’t, i don’t —‘

‘— while i think it’s wise you’re moved off my service,’ she says, ‘i will burn down that entire hospital if anyone looks down on you for that.’

‘that seems counterintuitive to do no harm.’ the way you say it is wobbly and your nose is full of snot and it’s kind of all so terrible, but then you catch up: ‘you don’t want me on your service?’

beatrice steadies herself. ‘i want to kiss you.’

‘even after —‘

‘ava, listen. i want to kiss you.’

‘yeah,’ you say, and lean forward.

it feels like your entire body lights up, even though it aches in the damp cold — golden light everywhere.

you laugh a little afterward, then beatrice smiles and takes off back toward her car without any complaints.

‘it’s still rather early,’ she says as you go on your way, ‘and we’re only about twenty minutes from the car.’

you grimace. ‘yeah, sorry.’

she shakes her head. ‘there are undoubtedly so many things you need to apologize for daily, ava —‘

‘— hey —‘

‘— but this is not one of them.’

‘fine,’ you huff.

she’s unfazed. ‘i was going to ask if perhaps you wanted to come over to my place. among other things i like in addition to hiking, i do like to catch up on rest as well. and then perhaps lunch? there’s a spot near me that has wonderful oysters.’

‘a nap? in your sexy house? lunch? with your sexy face?’

she ignores most of it: ‘it’s a rather normal house.’

‘i bet it’s sexy. lilith told me you were rich.’

beatrice grimaces.

‘it’s okay. like, really. i just bet you’re, like, the kind of person who has bespoke everything, aren’t you?’

‘no,’ she says, but she’s blushing and looking away from you.

‘you know, you’ve got a terrible poker face.’

‘only when it comes to you, i’m afraid.’

‘ah, what a terrible fate.’

‘the worst,’ she agrees, shaking her head with a smile. ‘it’s got a good view, i will say.’

‘well, lead the way then.’

‘ava, we’re just walking back to the car.’

you roll your eyes. ‘you know what i mean.’

beatrice’s house is beautiful, perched on a hill with giant windows overlooking the sound and the olympics. she laughs — not unkindly — when you admit that all of your hiking gear is actually camila’s, says, ‘i thought that pack looked familiar,’ and then lends you a hoodie and some comfortable running shorts to change into. you don’t ask her so many things brimming inside of you; she doesn’t ask you either, although you’re sure she — as bea and as dr. choi — has a billion questions. you’ll ask and answer everything in due time.

for today, you bully her — with far too little bullying involved to make her argument of i’ve never seen it before and i don’t waste my time on shows like this — to start binging season 4 of real housewives of salt lake city; even less convincing when she knows all about jen’s escapades last season and then clamps her mouth shut when you laugh into her shoulder.

‘it’s compelling, fine,’ she says with a very dramatic pout, and you’re kissing it off her face before you can think twice.

she smiles into it, your nerves dissipating, and it’s good, and right, and safe. you eventually kiss her cheek and run a hand over the soft bristles of her hair — which you’ve been dying to do — while she smiles and then settle into her side.

‘thank you.’

she lets out a big breath, peaceful under the blanket, thick socks on your feet, cold rain outside but only warmth in this house with you in it. ‘no, ava. thank you.’

#wn fic #avatrice fic #avatrice #prompts #surgeons au #if there's two things i love it's hiking & rhwoslc!#butch bea 🥺🫡#they’re both so silly

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n0bamak1s · 4 years ago

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laughing gas - mai zenin x reader

request: “Mai Zenin x Fem S/o, where the s/o gets their wisdom tooth removed and confesses their love to mai acting all sweet and cute, mai then takes care of her s/o and confesses too, we can see mai being her bratty and confident self but when she is with her s/o she just lets her walls down” - @shockfirefly

summary: in the request! (genre: fluff, friends to lovers, slice of life, humor)

warnings: reader is high on anesthesia if that counts as a warning, swearing, mostly just tooth rotting fluff (literally!!)

word count: 2k

a/n: i really enjoyed writing this request! at this point i’m basically just a mai zenin stan account tbh but the requests for her are just so fun to write. i’m almost on summer break so hopefully i’ll be more active bc i have a few ideas i’m excited to write for!!

it seriously took everything in mai’s willpower to not immediately whip out her phone to film your groggy state the moment she stepped into the room where you had just gotten your surgery done. she stifled a laugh at the bandage wrapped around your head, vaguely reminiscent of the one noritoshi had worn following the exchange event. when your eyes flicker over to meet her gaze, you give what she can only assume is your attempt at a smile, but looks more like a dog caught eating its owner’s dinner, with your face all swollen and slightly flushed.

forget that willpower shit.

she shamelessly calls out your name, to which you respond like an eager little kid. “say cheese!” she gives you an uncharacteristically wide grin to signal you to mirror her actions. you seemed to not learn from your previous mistake and attempted to smile back at her, before immediately cutting yourself off with a muffled groan. she hardly bothered with hiding her giggle this time, but at the very least she had the decency to cover her mouth as she cracked up.

with an annoyed pout on your face, you huffed and turned to the nurse standing beside you, who you were apparently to loopy to notice had joined in with mai on giggling at your grogginess. “she’s so mean to me!” you said, though your tone had no real irritation to it.

“it’s just to send to utahime. she wants to make sure your doing alright.” mai lied straight through her teeth, though you seem satisfied enough with that answer as you started to push yourself up from the seat you’d been in. mai quickly rushed to your side, knowing you weren’t sensible enough at the moment to ask for her help. before you could stand up and inevitably wobble over, she looped an arm around your waist and moved your arm so it was slung over her shoulders.

“alright champ, let’s get going.” she tried to remain as nonchalant as possible with the close proximity, but unfortunately for her, you seemed determined to embarrass her as much as possible.

“well at least buy me dinner first, ya casanova!” you said (much louder than necessary, mind you). honestly, it wouldn’t be surprising to mai if you could be heard from the waiting room.

with an over enthusiastic wave from you and an awkward thanks from mai to the nurse, you guys set off on your way.

to be fair to you, it was surprisingly a relatively tame trip to the door, with you focusing on keeping your steps in tune with mai’s. you were too lost in thought to embarrass yourself until you had made it to the waiting room. you had rather innocently pointed out a small curse, which would have been completely harmless had it not actually been an old woman, and had you not spoken with an inappropriately loud voice. the poor old lady who had fallen subject to your anesthesia induced self gave you an agitated glare as mai waved sheepishly in apology. the moment you guys were out the door, you turned back to glance through the glass.

“we’ll get her later, mai!” you patted her on the back with determination, your voice still muffled in a way that made you sound like you belonged on sesame street. “she can’t fool me, stupid curse!”

had it been anyone else, mai would have simply rolled her eyes and tugged you on, but since it was you, she found herself laughing along, a quiet laugh, like the sound of a wind chime in early spring weather. the sound seemed to catch you off guard, causing you to stop in your antics before turning to face her. she paused when she felt your gaze back on her, looking at her like a kid would look at fireworks for the first time.

she raised an eyebrow at your sudden change in demeanor. “what?”

“your laugh is pretty.” you stated simply, clearly having some pride at being the one to get her to laugh like that.

she turned away for a moment, hoping it would stop you from seeing the flush spreading across her face, knowing you’d never let her live it down. “thanks.” she muttered, praying she sounded at least a little bit cool and composed.

the short walk to the car was filled with you pointing out random cars asking if they were mai’s as you rested your head on her shoulder, before deciding the swelling was too painful for that.

a large grin which quickly turned into a grimace (you really never learned) appeared on your face when mai finally informed you that you’d made it to the right car. she held your hand to support you as you stepped into the seat, and once she’d sat down, reached over to buckle you in. she chose to ignore the over exaggerated wink you sent her way in favor of her own sanity.

as she drove, you babbled on about nonsense like how you were sure noritoshi had made mechamaru to hide the fact that he was secretly a robot, or how after that run you had gotten at the baseball game, you were sure you were destined to quit sorcery to go to the major leagues. to humor you, mai nodded along, before dryly responding that she’d probably be a better fit considering how good she looked in the baseball uniforms.

ignorant of her joking tone, you were quick to agree enthusiastically. “definitely! but i dunno if i’m the best person to ask, because i think you look good in just about anything.” your voice was sincere as you turned fully to look at her with slightly hazy eyes.

before either of you had time to process the admiration you had shown towards her, you glanced back out the window to the familiar sight of your school. you excitedly waved at the sight of todo and noritoshi sparring together. after catching his attention, todo didn’t even bother to stop the roaring laughter that came from your appearance, pointing out to noritoshi the similarities between your current look and his from just a few weeks ago. noritoshi gave todo an annoyed look, before glancing back over to see mai helping you out of the car, once again slinging your arm over her shoulders and supporting you with an arm on your waist.

she tried her best to ignore todo, she really did. though, it wasn’t exactly easy to ignore him when he loudly exclaimed what a ‘lady killer’ mai was. she snapped her gaze to meet his eyes, giving him a cold glare, before continuing to slink you along to your dorm.

when you opened the door to your dorm, the first thing mai noticed was a bulletin board on your wall, decorated with photos of all your friends, which most recently included your classmates. her eyes flicked to a photo of you next to another girl in elementary school with a smile that showed off your gap from missing teeth, and she chuckled softly at the irony of the photo compared to your current situation. her gaze then quickly shifted to a newly added strip of pictures from a photo booth. she smiled fondly at the memory of you, her, miwa, and momo sandwiching yourselves together in the tiny booth to take photos during your shopping trip. they weren’t ‘good’ photos, per say, in fact you guys all looked rather ridiculous trying to pack into frame, but for some reason, mai seemed to soften up at the memory of it, and how happy you looked just to be next to her.

her train of thought was interrupted by you tugging on the hand that didn’t rest on you, making her turn to see you mere inches from her face.

why the hell were you so close???

“yes?” she questioned, hoping to deflect from the fact that she was so obviously gushing over the photos on your wall just moments before.

“will you sleep with me?”

had you not had an arm around her, she probably would have dropped you in that instant. from the way she carried herself to the way she talked to others, most people would assume mai zenin does NOT blush, yet somehow you’d managed to disprove that theory way too many times today.

“WHAT?” it was her turn to be loud for a moment.

“i’m tireddddd” you whined “and you’re so warm.” you had stated it so casually, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

she groaned, as if it would cover up her sheer embarrassment at how bold you were. wordlessly, she walked you to your bed, keeping her grip on your waist secure. it was amazing how gentle she was as she laid you down on that rock solid bed all the dorms were stuck with. she pulled a blanket over you, sitting awkwardly on the edge of the bed in hopes you’d doze off peacefully from there. when she didn’t shift from her position, you looked at her with a confused expression.

“wouldn’t it be more comfortable to lay down?” your words were still slightly slurred together. you rested a hand on hers. “you know i don’t mind.” despite your dazed look, she could tell your words were sincere as your thumb rubbed circles atop her hand.

mai turned to face you full on, her eyes gentle rather than their usual harsh look.

curse you for being so hard to resist.

“fine” her voice was quiet “but only because it’s my job to watch over you.” she stretched out her legs so she was laying down on the bed, pulling the blanket towards her so she could get comfortable.

“you’re so good to me mai.” you smiled. not a pained grimace, or an awkward baring of your teeth, but a smile. “people always seem to be so intimidated by you, but i don’t really get it. you’ve always been so nice to me. it’s nice.”

she didn’t understand how even when you were all loopy, you still managed to have such an effect on her. hesitantly, she reached up to grab your hand, intertwining her fingers with yours.

it seemed the boldness from your anesthesia had rubbed off on her.

before she had time to talk, you continued. “i always feel so glad when we get paired up for missions, you make me feel so safe. like, i know when i’m around you that you’ll protect me. i admire you so much for doing all that for me.”

she went slightly stiff at your...confession? declaration? what exactly would you call that? you had said it so nonchalantly, whether it was out of trying to play off your fear of rejection or legitimate confidence, it was hard to tell.

��plus you’re really pretty.” your hand squeezed hers as you looked suddenly very interested in the pattern of your blanket. it was odd, seeing you get so shy all of a sudden, though she supposed it was somewhat of a win for her.

as you stared sheepishly away from her eyes that traced over every inch of your face, you felt her hand come up to your cheek, tilting you to face her. she continued scanning your face with an impossibly soft expression, before meeting your eyes once again.

“you know i wouldn’t do all that if it was anyone else.” her voice was barely above a whisper as her eyes bore into yours. her face was so close to yours that you could feel her breath fanning lightly across your face. “it’s all for you.” you’d never seen her so earnest before.

you smiled softly at her, even despite the ridiculous bandages around your head, and your chipmunk like cheeks, she still stared at you with so much love.

“you like meeee.” your tone was teasing, but it was obvious to anyone with a pair of eyes that you were just as whipped as her.

“dammit. you figured me out.” she said sarcastically, shuffling forward slightly so you were flush against her.

up close, the tiredness in your glassy eyes was obvious. she sighed to herself, and slowly leaned in to plant a soft kiss on your forehead.

“get some sleep.” she smiled at your eyes struggling to fight open your heavy eyelids. “we have a lot to talk about once the anesthesia wears off.”

maybe todo wasn’t so far off with that ‘lady killer’ comment.

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #mai zenin x reader #mai zenin #zenin mai #zenin mai x reader #jjk headcanons #mai zenin imagine #mai zenin x you #jjk imagines

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a-stitch-in-time-and-space · 4 years ago

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some (not new) ideas I’m throwing at the wall vis-a-vis gender and star trek (esp in ds9)

Note: We’re eeeeever so slowly moving into times in which “transgender” - as useful a phrase as it is - isn’t the catch-all it’s been for the past 15 or so years, mainly with an understanding that gender is an infinite, fascinating playground that is affected by culture and time. I’m partially using transgender/trans here, and partially terms like nb, genderqueer, femme, and masc as well as “gender transgressive” which is useful to describe, well... transgressive gender.

However I wish I could jump into the future to see what terminology exists then...

I do think there’s something interesting in certain transphobic media, esp the kind that deals with crossdressing-for-laughs (vs drag, which is ofc community-based), because even though it’s usually done mockingly by cisgender heterosexual guys, it reveals how undeniably queer certain ideas are, even if that queering is done in a punch-down sort of way

surprise, this is about Profit and Lace, specifically in how it introduces the idea of transgressive gender in Quark and in Rom, accidentally building off Pel’s story in Rules of Acquisition.

surface story is yeah: Quark makes an ugly woman, with a dose of misogynistic haha women and their hormones amirite (and that opening *shudders*), but what is fascinating is how easily Quark is able to access what we’d today call gender affirming surgery in a future where you can be altered to look like all kinds of different species.

all this handwringing about regret and “staying in your gender” (which isn’t how it woooorks for a lot of us) and not allowing consent over our own bodies and the patronizing, ahistorical, unscientific, slew of unwanted commentary from everyone and their mums, it’s just... not there. they know Quark is going to reverse the surgery the second the jig is up and Julian still just does it, because sure, got a moment to spare.

you wanna have boobs? yeah, go on. you wanna have boobs and still be considered a man? uh-huh, that’s cool - wow, Rom makes a wonderful “woman,” don’t you think? (and Leeta’s.. kind of in support of that!)

I’ve argued a fair few times that Rom is trans/nb/femme/genderqueer by Ferengi standards (that is, gender is measured by business-sense/lobes and is its own kind of binary -- also on that note... their mother is trans/nb/genderqueer by that measurement too). It’s a really fascinating overlap between financial class and gender as a caste system (which affects both Ishka and Rom in different ways), which also exists on earth irl today, even though that intersectionality doesn’t get discussed enough outside of queer circles.

I think Quark fits that standard as well, but he’s fighting it a lot harder than Rom is. The central tension of Quark’s series long arc is his attempts to be A Good Ferengi Male and failing over and over and when he occasionally succeeds, how he doesn’t often feel good about that. He blames a lot of this on the Federation, but by all accounts it was in him to begin with, although he used to be able to cover it up more easily.

Quark desperately wants to get it right, but a lot of the time he’s clearly masking. Sometimes he really enjoys it though, it’s not like with Rom where he has no sense for business, so much as it takes effort.

meanwhile Pel (whom I HC as masc) doesn’t have access to the kinds of surgeries that are so easy to get in the Federation, which puts her in danger - much like not having access puts us in danger today. I'm sort of torn on the headcanon that she either gets her lobes enlarged via the same surgical procedure (which, again, is so no big deal in the future) or because she’s in the gamma quadrant, she’s able to reimagine gender without having to change herself physically - which many trans/nb/genderqueer or otherwise gendered/non-gendered people also don’t want to do.

I also think it’s interesting that Quark-as-a-woman who is dressed in clothes (gasp) is fetishized, because she’s oh so transgressive -- exactly what happens to us today and one reason why so many trans people end up in sex work (of any kind - here’s me adding: get that money however you can and want to, siblings, much love and support).

I bet there are underground sexual “deviancy” shops that sell fake lobes to imagine your female is actually the man of the house, or even lobe-enhancement that some females take to “pass” although they were actually designed for helping out your small-lobed son “perform business better”

(all of my talk of lobes: here’s the reminder that lobes in Ferengi culture are sexual characteristics)

bottom line, the tension between cisgender (heterosexual) people trying desperately to maintain a binary system of understanding gender and how they play in genderqueer sandpits is always interesting for me to watch.

on the one hand they’ll argue there are innate social behaviours that exist in women (and they exist across species) - the way Quark has to learn to walk for example, or even - interestingly - that when Ishka starts dressing, her style is very different from men’s dress (maybe inspired by an older version of Ferengi culture where females weren’t so oppressed? - Ishka as transfemme? She could notice that she and Rom have the same likes and she buys him - gasp buys with her own money!! - a lovely dress and one of those massive lobe-earring/necklace things (lobe-lace?), so they match) - and innate social behaviours that exist in men

on the other hand they will unknowingly present a future in which the distinctions between woman and man are so immaterial that you can access any kind of physical surgery you want - in the Federation that is, and differently defined throughout different species on different planets. I always liked the idea that the further away from the “paradise” of earth you get, the more diverse the gender distinctions become but in a lot of these places they also practise rigid systems, like on Ferenginar. I can imagine some majority-human planet worshipping the old ways of the 20th century and enforcing that colonialist gender binary, urgh, can you imagine....

You wonder what things like “assigned gender and sex at birth” might mean in a future where there’s no social capital involved in assigning those kinds of things, if anything.

And so, Profit and Lace is -- still not a good episode. I remember one of the DS9 writers talking about how unexpectedly well it’s aged and it absolutely has not. It’s misogynistic and transphobic, but I think also very important in the canon of Star Trek’s accidental gender-exploration (Star Trek’s accidental gender-exploration sounds like the title of an article....)

sometimes you find the best gold nuggets in the trash.

and on that note: time to spin the wheel and headcanon that O’Brien was (using today’s terminology) assigned female at birth and decided he liked the sound of being a boy when he was thirteen (his parents like: “for your birthday we got you gender reassignment! and you can always change your mind.”)

also I wrote it above, but Rom and Ishka wearing matching outfits and it being equally shocking is *chefs kiss* (esp with Rom as Nagus)

#quark #rom #ishka #pel #ferengi #profit and lace #rules of acquisition #ds9 #st: ds9 #star trek #ds9 meta #my writing #be prepared for Rambles

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navalcriminalimagines · 4 years ago

Text

Taken & Found - 1

Request 1: Hey there! I'd really like to see a comforting Gibbs after the reader was kidnapped?

Request 2: Could ya do something with the reader being kidnapped and tortured in captivity for a long time and after she was rescued and came back Gibbs tries to get her to talk about what happened to her so he can figure out how to help/comfort her?

Request 3: May I request something with Gibbs and scared reader? Maybe they’re like trapped somewhere or she’s going under for a surgery? You can decide reader’s fate!

This is a two-part fic. This part is basically full angst, focused on Gibbs and the comforting, healing focus on Reader will come in the second part. I wanted to separate both.

Pairing: Gibbs x Reader

TW: angst, kidnapping, mention of suicide, depression, slight alcoholism

Words count: 3k

Tags: @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @madamsnape921 @specialagentastra @ncisfan @zetasaturno99

She was supposed to be thirty-five years old today.

And it was one of those very rare days Gibbs didn’t want to get out of bed.

He spent the night working on his boat in the basement, thinking about what his life would be if anything had happened. But he would never know, would he? No matter how bad he wished Shannon and Kelly weren’t dead, how bad he wished you were here with him… all of this happened. And he found himself alone in his basement.

Well, not entirely alone. He had a bottle of bourbon to keep him company, and Fraser, an old black labrador. Your old black lab. Your furry baby, as you used to say.

You rescued it when it was just a puppy, a couple of years before you joined NCIS. So, Gibbs has always known you with this loving thing. At some point, you would even take him to the office and Fraser’s favorite spot was under Gibbs’s desk.

Gibbs never wanted to get attached to the dog. Fraser wasn’t his, it was yours and he respected that. But somehow, you both made your way to his heart.

But only Fraser was still here.

Taking a sip of bourbon directly out of the bottle, his eyes landed on your pet, curled up in the armchair Gibbs put here years ago after you made a remark. “You know, you should put something down here. An armchair or something for people who visit.” You said, while caressing the wood with your fingertips. God did he wish he was the boat at this very moment.

“People who visit never stick around.” He answered, sternly.

“I stick around,” you grinned.

Indeed, you did stick around. A lot. Probably too much.

Would’ve saved him the heartbreak if you didn’t.

A week later, an armchair was down his basement.

With the bottle still in his hand, Gibbs sat next to Fraser and started to toy the blankie. Well, technically, it was not a blankie. It was a tee-shirt. One of yours. The one you left at his house, two years ago.

The top, representing one of your favorite bands, was destroyed now. Fraser chewed it, curled against it nonstop for two years, it was now just some cotton with dog’s hair on it. It didn’t have your smell anymore, it had Fraser’s, but Gibbs never had the strength to take it away from the dog to wash it.

He never had the strength to do much after you disappeared.

When it was clear to the team that you had been taken, kidnapped, abducted or whatever, Gibbs searched for you for weeks, probably mouths. He still does, to be honest, just not 24/7 anymore.

The first weeks, he asked - or actually, ordered - Abby to take care of Fraser. Gibbs was spending all of his time away, looking for you, he couldn’t take care of someone - well, a living thing. The lab tech happily obliged, but Fraser’s health quickly deteriorated. The dog wasn’t eating, or drinking. All he did was lay on the floor, waiting for his mum to come back.

“What, Abby? I don’t—“ not a welcoming way to answer the phone but she didn’t hold it against him.

“I know you’re busy, Gibbs, but I’m taking Fraser to the vet. He’s not okay at all.”

Abby heard her boss taking a deep breath. “Which vet? I’ll be here as soon as I can.”

The dog was clearly letting himself die. Without you, he didn’t see the point of living and Gibbs understood that. If he told anyone what he did after he got Fraser from the vet, they would think he was crazy. Maybe he was, but he didn’t care at this point. He didn’t care about anything, anymore.

Fraser was depressed and there was nothing the vet could do about it. So, they let Gibbs take him home.

And he took him home. His real home; your apartment. Fraser immediately lay on your bed and cried. “You’re reading my mind, Fra.” Gibbs muttered to himself, while preparing a bowl for the pet.

Gibbs had been in your room a few times, but he never paid attention to your stuff. All his attention was on you and your body when it happened. But as he was sitting on the floor, his back against your bed, he allowed himself to take a look around. It was very much you. Minimalist with your touch. He saw your guitar, your messy wardrobe, candles and some Polaroid pictures of people you love. Gibbs never paid attention to those pictures until this moment and one grabbed his attention.

A picture of him. You could see him from afar, aiming to throw a ball. He remembered that night but he never knew you took a picture.

Ziva had invited him to throw a few balls on a baseball field. It was a nice summer night and they had just saved many people from getting blown up. It was also the first night you kissed him. In his basement, you teased him like you always did and ended up with your lips on his. He wasn’t ready for it at that moment, and when he realised what had happened, you were already gone.

Gibbs held the picture in his hand and before sitting back exactly where he was, he went to the kitchen, grabbed what he had prepared and came back.

Fraser was still laying on your bed, his face on your pillow. Gibbs carried him in his arms, the labrador didn’t even fight back or anything. He put him in front of the bowl and Gibbs sat across. “You wanna die, Fra, huh?” The dog looked at him with horrifying sadness in his eyes. “You and me both, buddy. So let’s do this.”

Gibbs put the picture next to the bowl and grabbed his gun and the bottle of whiskey. “I know you know that salmon. Eat it, choke, and when you take your last breath, I’ll pull the trigger.” He said, pressing the gun against his temple.

Fraser is deadly allergic to salmon. When he was a few months old, you fed him some and the reaction was almost instantaneous. Luckily, you took him to the vet right on time for them to save him. “Salmon is banned from the house.” you said on the ride home.

The dog didn’t move one bit. With his face still resting on the floor, he kept looking at the man. Gibbs swore he saw tears in the damn dog’s eyes. “So? Whatcha waiting for? Eat it. It’s good salmon, trust me.” He said, drinking the brown liquor.

If Fraser could talk, he would’ve told him; ‘I may let myself die, but you’re damn crazy.’ Which would’ve been fair.

Gibbs was going crazy. It was the last straw. The last punch in the guts he could take. He had reached his limit.

He was finally letting himself love again and get loved in return. And someone took that away from him. All over again.

He got it, the universe hates him for some reasons. Why would he keep pushing it then?

Gibbs stayed up all night, drinking and waiting for Fraser to eat the fish and die. So he could pull the trigger and end this once and for all.

But Fra never did. Instead, around 5am, the dog went to grab something from the bathroom and put it on Gibbs’ lap. It was one of his hoodies. A hoodie you stole from him. Gibbs buried his nose in it and he could smell you. For the first time in many years, he let himself cry. He cried like a fucking baby, under the watch of your fucking dog.

At some point, he felt that Fraser was trying to nudge his nose in the hoodie too. “We’ll find her, Fra. We have to.”

If Gibbs had killed himself, along with Fraser, it would’ve meant you were gone forever. Because eventually, people would’ve stopped looking for you. They would’ve stopped thinking about you and just pretended you’re dead.

But Gibbs knew you weren’t dead. He knew it deep inside him. Because if you were dead, Fraser would’ve eaten the salmon and he would’ve pulled the trigger.

Laying in his bed, Gibbs turned on his side and found himself face to face with Fraser. The dog was sleeping and snoring. That’s what he does most of his time. Fra was still depressed, but he didn’t let himself die anymore. He eats and drinks the bare minimum. He doesn’t play anymore though. He used to be a happy, playful and loving dog. Now he’s just laying around, waiting for you to come back.

Just like Gibbs.

They both lost weight. Gibbs didn’t even bother to look at himself in the mirror anymore. He hadn’t been to the hairdresser in a while. His hair was longer than it has never been, and his beard was prominent now. You would probably freak out if you saw him like this. You would order him to shave and get his marine haircut back. You would feed him - and Fraser - until they are full. He just wished you were here.

He reached for Fraser’s head and pet him for a moment. “The boat is done and I can’t even offer it to her.” He sadly whispered. It’s been his plan a long time before you were gone. Building a boat after and for you. Now it was your thirty-fifth birthday, the boat was fucking done but he coudn’t teach you how to operate it like he promised.

For the next two weeks, Gibbs would stay in the basement, and stare at the finished product. There was nothing left to do on it, so he just sat behind the wheel, files on his lap and bourdon in one hand. His use of alcohol has never been higher than it is now. You’d scold him if you knew.

Maybe he’s self-destructing, hoping you’d show up and make everything right again. It was stupid, since you didn’t leave on your own. You were taken. Someone took you, and god knows what they were doing to you. This awoke a rage he never knew he had. He’d kill that - or those - person with his bare hands if he ever has a chance.

A month after your birthday, Gibbs was basically falling asleep in his boat, relatively drunk. Fraser was on his lap - he doesn’t realise he’s not a puppy anymore - when the dog shot his head up. “Easy, that’s just Fornell.” Gibbs mumbled, recognizing his friend’s footsteps.

“My two favorite depressed boys.” Tobias greeted them. He gently patted Fraser’s head and looked at his friend. “I need you to sober up, Gibbs. We need to talk about something important.”

“Just say whatever you have to say. I’m not that drunk.”

“Yeah, right.” Tobias grabbed the bottle from Gibbs’s hand and checked how empty it was. But Tobias knew only one thing would make him react, so he went straight to the point. “It’s about Y/N, Gibbs. Get your ass—“

Before the FBI agent could finish his sentence, Gibbs had practically thrown Fraser away. The poor dog looked at him with hurt in his eyes. It was only then that Gibbs saw the file his friend was holding against his chest. He didn’t think twice and tore it out of his grip. Tobias let him.

There wasn’t much in the file, just a picture.

A picture of you.

You looked different, thinner, your hair was shorter and in a completely different color. You looked like a homeless woman.

Gibbs’s jaw dropped. His head was spinning so fast, he needed to sit again. He touched the picture with his fingertips so softly, hoping it was like touching you. A lot of things were going through his mind at this moment, he actually drew a blank. “It was taken two days ago. In Wyoming.”

Gibbs didn’t need more.

Tobias had everything planned before he showed up at Gibbs’s place. One of the FBI private planes was waiting for them, in order to take them off to Wyoming. He had asked Emily if she could dogsit Fraser for a few days, and he even called Vance to let him know he was taking Gibbs with him.

In the plane, he told Gibbs how he came across this picture and all of the info he had, which wasn’t much to be honest. As far as they knew, you were in one city of Wyoming two days ago. Maybe you were gone by now.

But all Gibbs could focus on was that picture. He didn’t take his eyes off it since he opened the file. This was you. You were alive. Whatever happened, whatever the reasons you found yourself here, you were fucking alive.

Tobias looked at his friend. He’ll spend the rest of his life pretending he didn’t see the tear rolling down his cheek. “How you feeling?” He tentatively asked.

“I—I don’t know. It’s a lot.”

“She’s alive. We know it. We’ll find her.”

“I’ve always known she was alive.”

No doubt he did.

It was hard for Tobias to tame Gibbs after they landed. The agent was already barking orders at everybody and anybody, he was ready to organize a fucking manhunt to find you. But the first place they went was where the picture was taken. Gibbs spent hours in the area, while Tobias went to see the local cops. When he tried to check on Gibbs, the man never answered.

In the picture, you were looking at the surveillance camera. You knew you were being watched. You did it on purpose, Gibbs was sure of it. You must have left a clue somewhere around.

You looked scared, someone must have been following you. But he knew from what Tobias said; there wasn’t much more on the video. You were briefly seen and then disappeared, again. “Talk to me, Y/N.” Gibbs thought to himself while looking around.

It was only around noon that it hit him. He finally saw it.

Right there on the graffiti wall.

“Born to lose, live to win.”

Your handwriting. This sentence. Your tattoo.

You must have written this to let him know he should look at this wall. So he did. He studied those graffitis for a long moment, until he saw what he needed to see.

Numbers. GPS coordinates.

He called McGee, not paying attention to the missed calls he had. He gave him the coordinates and Tim gave him an address.

Was that it? The nightmare was finally over? He would go to this address, find you and take you home. Finally.

Fucking finally.

He felt dizzy while running to the address. It wasn’t that far away, and there was no way he’d wait for Fornell or a cab. So, he jogged to this fucking house. When he was standing in front of it, his heart was beating so fast, he thought it would stop.

But he couldn’t die now. He would die after he found you but not now.

He didn’t care about procedures or anything. He grabbed his gun, and let himself in the house by knocking out the door. A man was sitting there, on the couch.

The house was pure filth. The man seemed to be a bit younger than him, and he looked like a psychopath. Which he is, considering he took you.

The man was standing in his living room, his hands up as Gibbs pointed the gun at him. In a flash, Gibbs was standing right in front of the man, the gun pressed against his throat. The man looked scared, he didn’t even try to fight. “What the hell, man? Who are you? What do—“

“Shut your mouth. Where is she?” Gibbs asked, suppressing the urge to beat the man to death right now. That would come later. He needed to find you first.

“Who? There’s no—“

Gibbs’s knee hit him right in his crotch and that bastard fell on the floor. “You’re living the final hour of your life, you better tell me where the hell is Y/N, before I watch life leaving your fucking eyes.”

“I—I—“

Seeing his hesitation, Gibbs punched him. “Where?!” He yelled, but the man stayed silent. “Fine.”

Gibbs grabbed the guy by his collar to put him back up. He was physically impressive, but the adrenaline running through Gibbs’s veins gave him incredible strength. He threw him on the first chair he saw and immediately cuffed him to it. He punched him once more, harder this time.

His nose and lips were bloody, but of course it wasn’t enough. Gibbs fought a lot in his life. To defend himself or to arrest someone, but never, had he been filled with that much rage and anger. He didn’t think twice before his boot hit the man directly in his face, knocking him unconscious. He stared as the man fell on the floor along with the chair he was cuffed to.

He needed to find you. Right now.

No need to be a federal agent to know a psychopath would hold you captive somewhere private.

So he immediately looked for a basement, which he quickly found and he saw the door.

A reinforced door with quite a few locks. Keys. He needed keys that he found in the man’s pocket. Although he was still laying on the floor, fighting to regain consciousness, Gibbs kicked him again, in the stomach this time. He wasn’t holding back his strength one bit. He will kill him anyway.

As he was unlocking the door, his hands were shaking like they never did before. His heart was still pounding in his chest. He still felt dizzy.

He was sure his heart actually stopped when he spotted you on the one-person bed. You were holding your knees against your chest. It was dark, but it was you. You were there, a few feet in front of him. He didn’t even know what to do.

But you did.

When you realised who was standing in front of you, you weakly jumped off the bed and rushed into his arms.

The only thing that kept you alive all this time; knowing that he would find you.

You felt even smaller than you already were. With your arms wrapped around his waist, your face buried in his chest, Gibbs felt you crying.

He slowly wrapped his arms around you, afraid it wasn’t real. Afraid he may hurt you. Afraid you would disappear again. “You found me.” he heard you whispering.

That he did.

#jethro gibbs imagine #leroy jethro gibbs x reader #jethro gibbs x reader #agent gibbs #jethro gibbs #gibbs x reader #gibbs #ncis fiction #ncis fanfic #ncis fanfiction #ncis

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marjansmarwani · 3 years ago

Text

I can’t let go of all the things I hoped we’d be

6.3k || ao3

There was someone missing. “Where’s TK?”

His parents exchanged a look and Carlos felt his heart sink. Why wouldn’t they just tell him where his boyfriend was? He might not know what had happened but he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that no matter what it was, TK would be by his side; unless he couldn’t be.

“Dad,” he tried again, shifting his gaze to his father, “just tell me. Please.”

------

After an accident Carlos is left to deal with the aftermath as he waits and hopes for the best, because he’s not sure he’ll be able to survive the alternative.

Written for day 1 of @911lonestarangstweek

The prompt was “c” and the obvious ones are “car crash” and “coma” but there are about 10 in here, see if you can spot them all 💜

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

The bed beneath him felt harder than he was used to.

He scoffed silently, thinking about how TK had assured him it just meant they needed to break in their new mattress and that these things just take time, babe.

There was only so much time he was willing to give before a new mattress was deemed unsuitable though. They both had very physical and demanding jobs and they both deserved to have a nice mattress, damnnit. He opened his eyes and rolled over to say as much to his boyfriend but when he opened his eyes, he wasn’t met with the familiar soft gray of their bedroom. In fact, he quickly realized as the harsh lights above him forced him to squint and he shifted on scratchy sheets, now that he was more aware it became clear that this wasn’t their bed after all.

Hospital, his mind provided. That would explain the too-bright lights and the beeping machines just beyond his peripheral. He blinked again and the room came more into focus, as did the two occupants of the chairs beside the bed.

His dad was the first to notice his open eyes. He looked exhausted and was turning his hat over in his hands in that way he did when he was nervous, but when he looked up and met Carlos’s eyes some of the tension seemed to fall away.

“Carlitos,” he breathed, and an instant later his mother’s eyes were on him too; wide and tear-filled. She was up in an instant, beside his bed and pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead before he could even blink.

“It’s so good to see your eyes open,” she said softly, “you scared us, mijo.”

“Sorry,” he said on reflex, only then noticing how raspy his voice was. He gratefully took the water offered to him by his father, trying to pull his thoughts in order as he sipped. He could remember this afternoon clearly, but everything after was a haze. He frowned as he looked down at his body, taking in the cuts on his arms, pain in his ribs, and the weight of a cast on his left leg.

“What happened?” he asked his parents, blinking at them owlishly.

They looked at each other for a moment before his dad answered him with a question: “What do you remember, Carlitos?”

Carlos shook his head, “Nothing after this afternoon. I remember getting home and...wait,” he paused, looking around the room. There was someone missing. “Where’s TK?”

His parents exchanged another look and Carlos felt his heart sink, “Mom, Dad, just tell me where he is.”

His voice was shaking now but he couldn’t bring himself to care. The look his parents were giving each other sent his heart racing. Why wouldn’t they just tell him where his boyfriend was? He might not know what had happened but he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that no matter what it was, TK would be by his side; unless he couldn’t be.

“Dad,” he tried again, shifting his gaze to his father, “just tell me. Please.”

His dad gave his mother another look before he sighed and looked back at Carlos.

“There was an accident…” was all he said, but it was all Carlos needed to hear before some switch was flipped and the memories came rushing back to him.

-----------

It’s the commotion that wakes him, he thinks.

Opening his eyes is harder than it should be but when he does manage to peel them open he is greeted by the reflection of flashing light on the wet street and the sound of unfamiliar voices nearby. Those observations are quickly followed by the pain.

It rips through him once awareness returns and he can’t help the noise that slips out of his mouth, drawing the attention of a figure outside his door. They shifted closer, bending down to peer at him through the remains of his window.

“Sir, I need you to hold still for me until—” but then the voice breaks off suddenly and lost the air of professionalism as they cursed, “Shit! Donovan, the driver is Reyes!”

“Carlos?” Another voice said from somewhere farther away, “Fuck, is he okay?”

“I don’t know,” the voice next to him responds before leaning closer, “Hey, Reyes, can you tell me if anything hurts?”

And Carlos knew he should. Between being a cop and living with a paramedic for two years, he knew all the ins and outs of an accident from just about every angle. But he couldn’t make his brain focus on that yet. There was only one thought in his mind, and that was what he managed to get through his lips: “TK?”

He felt the hand on his still and heard the crunching of boots on glass telling him that his visitor was shifting, likely looking past him towards the passenger seat, where TK should be.

He didn’t miss the muttered curse that followed the action and his heart began to race as he heard the question asked: “Donovan, what’s the ETA on that RA unit?”

“3 minutes, why?”

“Tell dispatch they need to make it less.”

“Is Carlos…”

“It’s not for him.”

And Carlos somehow found it in himself to turn, despite the hand’s attempts to stop him and the protests that he shouldn’t move. The sight he saw froze him more than anything else could as fear and a different kind of pain rushed through his battered body.

TK was sprawled against the dashboard beside him. There was blood leaking from his hairline and he was so, so terribly still.

And in that moment, Carlos forgot how to breathe.

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

TK was rushed to surgery as soon as they arrived at the hospital, his parents told him. There was significant concern about internal bleeding and a traumatic brain injury. His broken ribs, his mother told him gently, punctured his lung; leading to a hemothorax. Paramedics treated him as soon as possible before rushing him to the hospital but with them both unconscious no one is sure when it happened or how long he was drowning in his own blood. They knew his brain was deprived of oxygen for a period of time; they just didn’t know how long that was and what the effects might be.

It’s all so much and Carlos could feel himself spiraling. His dad must have noticed too because he stepped closer, eyes full of concern as he laid a hand on Carlos’s arm.

“Breathe for me, Carlitos,” he instructed, voice gentle but firm. “It’s going to be okay.”

He did manage to take the breaths requested of him and when he found his voice he looked to his dad. “Is it?” he asked skeptically, “TK nearly died and from the sounds of it, he still might. What part of that is okay?”

His dad opened his mouth as if to say something before faltering and Carlos felt his dread grow.

“This is all my fault,” he whispered, causing his mother to frown at him.

“What do you mean, Carlos? Of course this is not your fault.”

“I was driving,” he reminded her, “how is this not my fault?”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” his father told him firmly. “This was an accident. The roads were wet, it was dark; anything could have happened.”

“But I was still the one behind the wheel,” Carlos said dully, “and TK is the one who is in danger. It doesn’t seem fair.”

His mother gave him a sympathetic look before she carefully bent down to wrap her arms around him, doing her best to provide him comfort without jarring his ribs, “Things like this never are,” she told him softly. “But that doesn’t mean it is your fault. TK would tell you the same thing.”

Carlos didn’t say anything to that, leaning into the comfort his mother provided and letting the tears silently fall down his face instead. But she hadn’t been there and now that Carlos could remember the sights and the feelings, he couldn’t stop this fear. It fed the next thought that entered into his head, echoing through all the corners of his mind: TK probably would, but thanks to Carlos, he might never have the chance to.

----------

“Reyes,” the officer at his window — Nate Quinones, Carlos had eventually realized — tried again before switching approaches, “Carlos! You need to keep still! We don’t know what kind of injuries you have, you need to stay still until fire gets to you so you don’t make anything worse.”

But as Carlos watched the newly arrived paramedic team assess TK, he was fairly certain that there was no way anything could be worse. The captain looked grim as he did his initial exam and when he turned to talk to his team it was with quick words and a low voice. Carlos tried to lean closer to hear, tried to put a hand out to reach TK but he was pinned by the steering wheel and couldn’t reach him. Carlos would be frustrated by it if he wasn’t so busy being fucking terrified that TK hadn’t moved in all this time, hadn’t even reacted to the arrival of the first responders or the unfamiliar hands on him.

“TK…” he tried to protest, but Nate shook his head.

“I know this is hard,” he said more softly, “and I can’t even imagine how you must be feeling, but you need to trust that the paramedics are doing their jobs and take care of yourself for now. Besides,” he added with a forced smile, “how would your boy feel about you doubting the paramedics?”

Carlos wanted to laugh at that, he could picture TK’s affronted look in his head. But the grim reality in front of him eclipsed all thoughts of humor because what could ever be funny when he might lose TK?

“I need…” he tried to say, but he couldn’t get the words out. His colleague seemed to get the gist of what he was trying to say though and shook his head.

“All you need to do right now is hold still. A second crew just pulled so I’m sure they’ll be getting you out of here in no time.”

Carlos wanted to argue, he really did. But his body wouldn’t let him. It was taking all the energy he had to simply be present. Any extra he had was going towards staring helplessly at TK, and toward the desperate hope that he was okay.

He focused on that thought as he watched them extract TK from the car and lower him to the ground. He couldn’t see him now but he could hear the measured tones of the paramedics as they worked. His mind was still foggy and he wasn’t following much but what he did hear did nothing to calm his nerves. He may not be able to understand the words but he knew the tone: it was the type reserved for the worst cases, for the ones when each moment mattered the most. Carlos had heard that tone in the field more times than he could count, but had never thought he would have to hear it directed at his own boyfriend. This entire thing, every single second, has been a nightmare that he is desperate to wake up from.

He was vaguely aware of the presence of a fire crew at his side, of their efforts to free him from the remains of his Camaro. But he couldn’t focus on that—not when TK was mere feet away and in trouble. But soon enough the noise of the jaws blocked out the sound of the paramedics working on TK regardless of how hard he strained to hear them.

It took some time but eventually, he was out, being hoisted out of his car by several pairs of strong arms. Soon enough he was on his feet and instantly he was searching for TK. He heard the noise before he found him and the words drifting through the night air were enough to grind his world to a halt: “We’ve lost respirations, Cap.”

“Start compressions,” the captain instructed as he continued to work. “Stalh, get the ambu bag going.”

Carlos’s mind was still spinning with pain and confusion, but the sight of TK on the ground before him with someone else pushing the air into his lungs and someone else pumping his heart and pushing the blood through his veins came to him with stark clarity. He tried to get to him but he found he couldn’t move. That didn’t seem right but then again TK was on the ground not even 20 feet from him and he wasn’t breathing. Nothing was right about this.

“Still nothing, Cap,” one of the paramedics noted and Carlos could feel the world around him start spinning far too fast for him to follow.

“Get him on a gurney,” the captain instructed, “we need to get him to the ER now. Don’t stop compressions, Valdez.”

Valdez said something back but Carlos didn’t catch what it was. Everything was fading out, his vision was turning dark. He felt his knees buckle and more hands on him and the last thing he saw was the sight of TK being lifted onto a gurney with the paramedics still working frantically to keep his heart beating as he was swallowed by darkness.

----------

His dad’s phone buzzed about an hour after Carlos woke up. He checked it surreptitiously but Carlos tracked his movements, studying his expression. He just knew it had to do with TK and it was all he could do to stop himself from jumping out of bed to see the news for himself. It was only the pain in his ribs and the knowledge that his mother would murder him kept him stationary as he waited with bated breath for the knowledge that hung over him like a verdict.

“He’s out of surgery,” his father announced eventually after typing out a reply. “Owen said he’s being moved to a recovery room soon.”

“And?” Carlos prompted, voice taut, “How did it go? How is he?”

“He’s hanging on,” Gabriel replied, pocketing his phone and stepping closer. He clapped a hand on Carlos’s shoulder and squeezed, “don’t count him out yet, mijo. That boy of yours has a lot of fight in him.”

“Don’t I know it,” Carlos retorted with a fond shake of his head and, for a second, everything almost felt normal.

But only for a second.

In the next Carlos registered what his Dad wasn’t saying. He hadn’t said TK was okay, he had said he was “hanging on” and Carlos didn’t like the implications of that. He opened his mouth to demand that his father give him details, but Gabriel slipped his phone back into his pocket with an air of finality.

“You need to worry about yourself right now, Carlitos,” he said gently. “I know you’re worried about TK but there is nothing you can do for him right now.”

A sudden thickness filled Carlos’s throat and he had to swallow before he could respond, “I know that,” he admitted, “I just can’t help…” he trailed off, and both his parents gave him looks that spoke volumes of understanding. His mother reached out a hand to squeeze his knee beneath the blankets.

“Get some sleep mijo,” she told him softly, “we’ll wake you if anything changes, I promise.”

He wanted to argue, but he had been fighting the pull of sleep with sheer stubbornness for the better part of the hour he had been awake so he reluctantly nodded instead. His mom placed a kiss on his forehead as he closed his eyes, the sound of his parent’s hushed voices providing soft background noise as he drifted off.

He slept fitfully, never allowing himself to truly rest in case he missed something, in case something happened with TK. He drifted in and out, his mind fighting his exhausted and battered body but he must have fallen into a deeper sleep than he thought at one point because the next time he opened his eyes his parents were gone and the chair beside his bed was occupied by Owen Strand instead.

“Owen?” he asked tentatively, trying his best to ignore the growing dread in his gut.

His boyfriend’s father looked up from the floor that he had been studying at the sound of his voice, his expression shifting into a tired grin when he saw Carlos looking at him.

“Hey kid,” he said softly, “it’s good to see you awake.”

Carlos nodded, and then frowned. “What are you doing here? Is TK…”

He didn’t know how to end that question. He didn’t know what he hoped or feared at this point. All he knew is that he was hurt, tired, scared and that he needed his boyfriend to be okay. And he didn’t know what he was supposed to make of the fact that the fire captain was currently sitting by his bedside rather than his son’s.

Owen leaned closer to place a bracing hand on his shoulder, “He’s still hanging on. There’s been no change, but the doctors assure me that at this point, that’s a good thing. I’m choosing to believe them. I wanted to check on you though, so your parents and I decided to rotate for a bit. They’re with him right now, but I can call them back here if you’d rather.”

Carlos shook his head. “It’s fine,” he assured the older man. “I’m glad they got to see him. I just wish I could as well,” he admitted. “Everyone keeps telling me he’s alive, but until I see it myself…”

He trailed off again, unwilling to give voice to the thoughts and fears in his head as Owen nodded.

“Believe me when I say I know where you’re coming from,” he replied, “but you’re hurt too. You need to heal before you can do anything of the sort and I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist on that. Just think of what TK will say when he wakes up if he ever found out I let you trapse all over the hospital while you were still injured. Don’t make me have to deal with that, Carlos.”

Carlos had been prepared to argue his case until he achieved the result he wanted, but something about the sincerity in Owen’s voice and the certainty with which he said “when he wakes up” quelled him and he found himself nodding. Owen gave him a warm smile that spoke volumes of relief, but there was still an edge of sadness in his expression. The sight of it made the feeling of guilt still within him flare up again.

“I am so sorry, Owen,” he said quietly, pulling his gaze from the other man and looking down at his blankets.

“Sorry for what?” he replied, and even though Carlos couldn’t see him he could almost hear the confusion on his face.

“For all of this,” he said, gesturing vaguely to their location. “That TK is hurt.”

“That’s not your fault, Carlos.”

“Of course it is!” he retorted, “I was driving, Owen. Whatever happened, that’s on me and I am so, so sorry. I never meant for anything to happen, I—”

He was aware he was crying in earnest now, the tears falling down his face without his consent. He did his best to wipe them away, but there was no stopping them. They just kept coming and before he knew it he was sobbing, his breath coming in heaving gasps as all of the pain and fear that had been lurking since he first woke up in the hospital finally demanded release.

He had almost forgotten Owen was still in the room until he felt the bed dip beside him and the warmth of a hug as arms wrapped around his shaking frame, holding him tight as he cried.

“This isn’t your fault,” Owen assured him, voice full of conviction even as it wavered. “It was just a terrible accident. You would never do anything to ever hurt him. I know that, Carlos, and TK knows it too. I don’t blame you, and I’m glad you’re safe.”

Carlos vaguely wondered how the man could say such things when he was facing the possibility of losing his son, but for once he didn’t question it. Instead he allowed the comfort to soothe him and the arms to hold him as he cried himself dry, bleeding out all the pain inside of him.

-----------

“You cannot be serious?” TK demanded, turning in the passenger seat to look at him incredulously.

“I said what I said,” Carlos retorted, biting his lip against the smile that wanted to form at the thought of the indignant face TK was surely currently making.

“You cannot be telling me that I am in love with someone who thinks that Area 51 is real.”

“I believe it exists,” Carlos countered, “I just don’t believe it has anything to do with aliens.”

“So, you don’t think the government is hiding proof of aliens?”

“I didn’t say that either, I just said I don’t think it is in Area 51.”

“So where is it then?”

Carlos shrugged, turning to glance briefly at TK before turning his eyes back to the road, “How should I know, it’s a secret for a reason, TK.”

“So, let me get this straight. You are certain the government is hiding proof of alien life in an undisclosed site more mysterious than Area 51, but you still think Big Foot is a hoax.”

“It’s clearly a series of people in fur suits, TK.”

He grinned as TK spluttered indignantly, muttering something about disrespecting cryptids before he sighed and looked over at Carlos, “I can’t believe I love you.”

Carlos grinned, turning his head to offer his retort when he caught something out of the corner of his eye. He saw the flash of panic on TK’s face as he turned abruptly back to the road and heard him shout a warning as he wrenched the steering wheel to the left in a desperate attempt to avoid whatever it was in the road. There was the squeal of tires on wet pavement and the spine chilling noise of crunching metal and screams of pain that he couldn’t identify, before everything faded to black.

-----------

His parents and Owen weren’t the only visitors.

Soon enough Carlos was treated to a small group of solemn firefighters trying their best to plaster on smiles as they crowded into his room, the nurse’s reminder that they could only be there as a group as long as they stayed reasonably quiet following them in. He did his best to return their smiles but his was even more strained and after a moment, he gave up. The pain in their expressions was just as raw as the one he felt and he was forcibly reminded that as much as they were his friends, they were TK’s family first and foremost.

“I’m sorry,” he managed after a few long moments of awkward silence. “I am so, so sorry.”

It was Judd who spoke first, his Texas drawl coming out harsher than usual, “You have nothing to be sorry for, Carlos.”

“I was driving,” he repeated, “and it was my idea to be out at all. That means…”

“That means that an accident happened. Tell me you haven’t seen this a thousand times on the job. Do you tell the person who was driving it was their fault?”

“No,” Carlos admitted, voice low.

“No,” Judd agreed, “because it ain’t. This could have happened to anyone, it just happened to happen to you and that’s not your fault.”

“Besides,” Marjan added, falling into the seat beside his bed and placing a hand on top of his, “you didn’t mean for TK get hurt. You would never want that. This was an accident, Carlos, and we’re sorry it happened to you.”

Carlos swallowed, taking in the expressions of the others. His eyes searched the faces of Mateo and Paul before settling on Nancy, looking for any hint that they didn’t agree with what Marjan said, that they did blame him for bringing this on to TK. But he saw none and when Nancy met his eyes, she shook her head. She didn’t say a word but the message was clear: she didn’t blame him. TK was her partner and closest friend and she didn’t blame him. He released a breath he hadn’t entirely realized he was holding and the smile that he gave them in the moment after was almost real—or as close as he could get without knowing definitively that TK was going to be okay.

For now the knowledge that they didn’t blame him helped, he just wondered if he would ever manage to stop blaming himself.

-----------

“You know, this could be considered kidnapping.”

“I am not kidnapping you, TK,” Carlos replied evenly, “I just said it was a surprise. Besides, I would think you of all people you would know what kidnapping feels like.”

TK paused at the passenger door before climbing into the camaro, raising an eyebrow at him across the top of the car, “Are you joking about my trauma, Reyes? I didn’t know you had that in you.”

“I really don’t know if I should be flattered or not right now.”

“Definitely flattered,” TK replied decisively, flashing him a grin as he bent down to climb into his seat, “I think it’s hot.”

Carlos rolled his eyes. “You think everything I do is hot,” he retorted, grinning at TK’s answering laughter.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing, babe.”

Calro shook his head but as slid into the driver’s seat he patted at his left pocket, making sure that the small box was still there as TK shifted gears and prattled on about how Carlos should tell him where they were going.

“It’s a surprise,” he reminded his boyfriend with a grin, earning himself another eye roll as he started the car. And, he added silently, if all went well by the time they got home tonight, he wouldn’t be his boyfriend anymore.

With that thought he grinned as he backed out of their driveway, the box in his pocket and the butterflies in his stomach making him almost giddy as they drove down their street, and towards their future.

-----------

On the afternoon of the second day Carlos was finally allowed to leave his bed. He wasn’t cleared to leave the hospital, his doctor had made that abundantly clear, and he was absolutely confined to a wheelchair; but he could go see TK. Since that was what he had wanted all along he was all too eager to comply with any and all conditions so when he was helped into a wheelchair by a nurse and wheeled down the hall by Paul, he did so without a word of complaint.

As they traveled to TK’s room, he thought of the box currently stashed with his other belongings back in his room. He hadn’t said a word about it, the subject too raw for him. No one else had said a word either, but he hadn’t missed the way his mother’s face had shifted when she had seen it as his belongings were unpacked or the way she had turned away quickly to conceal the emotion she couldn’t hide. His dad had simply clutched the box for a long moment before he met Carlos’s eyes and slid it back into the bag without a word. Neither of them had mentioned it again and Carlos was incredibly grateful for that, but now that he was on his way to see TK for the first time since that night it was all he could think about.

This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. He had been taking them to the field where they had watched the borealis, the night they had become them. He was going to ask TK a question that he was pretty sure he already knew the answer to, and then they were going to spend the rest of their lives together. That had been the plan, not him facing the possibility of a future without TK in it.

Paul slowed as they came to a doorway, pausing at the threshold. Carlos looked up at him to see his friend studying him with concern.

“Are you sure about this, man?” Paul asked. “This is a lot and you’re still healing yourself. No one would think anything less of you if you didn’t do this just yet.”

“Nothing can be worse than seeing him that night, Paul,” he replied, voice rough as the memories returned. “I was pretty sure I was watching him die then and there, and anything has to be better than that.”

Paul still looked hesitant so he tried again, “I can’t have that image be the last picture of him in my mind, Paul, no matter what. I can’t handle that.”

His friend finally acquiesced and reached around him to push the door open, revealing a small and bright private room. He steered Carlos in as Owen stood from his spot beside the bed and walked over to them, clapping Carlos on the shoulder.

“I’ll give you some time with him,” he told him softly, offering a sad smile before he nodded to Paul and exited the room. Paul pushed him to the side of the bed before patting him on the shoulder as well.

“I’ll be right outside,” he reminded him. “If you need anything…”

“I’ll let you know,” Carlos agreed. “Thanks, Paul.”

Paul nodded and with one last look at the figure in the bed, he headed out of the room, leaving Carlos alone with TK for the first time since that night.

It took him a few moments to even look up and when he did he had to suck in a deep breath. In so many ways TK looked so much better than Carlos’s last memory of him fighting for his life under the care of the paramedics on the roadside. But as much as the sight of him breathing on his own brought him comfort, there was still the fact that this figure in the bed was too still to be TK Strand.

In all the time Carlos had known him he had hardly ever seen him hold still for longer than a few moments. To see him now, pale and bandaged with a slack expression on his still face just screamed so many different kinds of wrong at him. This was not his boyfriend; this wasn’t the man that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. That man was expressive and energetic and wore his entire heart on his sleeve. He was so kind and good and had so much passion Carlos still marveled at it even now, after over two years of knowing each other, of loving each other. This man was a stranger.

Carlos reached out and clasped one of the still hands in his own, hoping that maye the familiar touch might reconcile the image of TK in his mind with the still body before him. Carlos still wasn’t sure what he had ever done to find someone who loved so wholly and completely, but he wouldn’t change it for the world. TK Strand was it for Carlos, and he intended to spend the rest of his life with him. He wanted him to be his fiance and his husband, because he was already his everything. The fact that they might lose that chance struck Carlos again and it was all he could do to breathe through the pain of it.

TK was going to wake up, he decided, because no other option was acceptable.

----------

“I don’t know man,” Paul said, his voice light and teasing as they entered the store, “I don’t think you two are quite there yet. You know usually couples who hit this stage are insufferable to be around, spend nearly every waking moment together, are absolutely infuriating to single people...oh wait, I guess that is you two. My mistake, man.”

Carlos rolled his eyes as he greeted the jeweler and gave his name for his order, turning his attention back to his grinning friend as the woman disappeared into the back room. “Laugh all you want, Strickland, I know you’re just jealous and it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Paul chuckled, but his expression softened, “I’m not jealous, but I am very happy for you. For both of you.”

“That’s assuming he says yes.”

Now Paul did roll his eyes, “Of course he is going to say yes. He is just as ridiculously in love with you as you are with him. Besides, I know you guys have talked about it. This is what you both want, right?”

Carlos nodded, “Yes, but it’s still terrifying.”

“It’s a big step,” Paul pointed out reasonably, “but you’re ready for it. And I am ready to be your best man.”

“Oh, you think so?”

“C’mon man, you know it’s true.”

Carlos’s response was interrupted as the jeweler stepped back up to the counter, a small, square box in her hand. She set it on the counter and opened it, allowing the gold of the simple band to flash in the light. Carlos could hardly breath as he looked at it, the magnitude of the simple object striking him with full-force. Paul put a hand on his arm and squeezed, “It’s perfect man, he’s going to love it.”

Carlos managed to flash him a shaky smile before he reached out and picked up the box, running his finger over the smooth metal within. This was really happening. This was it, there’s no going back now.

But he knew he didn’t want to, and he had never been more sure of anything in his life.

---------

The next day passed in much the same way. Carlos sat in his wheelchair at TK’s bedside as much as he was allowed, only returning to his own room for required intervals begrudgingly. But he wasn’t about to argue with the arrangement—it was a world better than not being allowed to see him at all.

It was only luck that he was in the room the first time TK’s eyes fluttered open. They were only opened for a second and and they closed nearly as fast but a glance at Owen told Carlos that he had not imagined it and he felt a renewed sense of hope rush through him. After that, he refused to leave TK’s room and nobody seemed too keen to argue that point with him.

His eyes—the gorgeous green eyes that Carlos had secretly been becoming convinced he would never get to see again—opened several more times, but it was hours before they stayed open for any length of time.

But Carlos didn’t mind the waiting; he would wait a lifetime for TK.

It was only the sound of his name that informed him TK was both awake and aware at long last and it was everything Carlos could do to keep it together as he leaned forward, wrapping TK’s hand in his own.

“Hi, love,” he whispered against his cheek as he bent down to press a kiss there.”I am so happy to see those eyes of yours.”

TK squinted at him as he pulled away as if he were trying to deduce something, “Are you okay?” he asked, and it was all Carlos could do to keep from laughing. Of course TK was asking him that when he had just woken up from a coma, he shouldn’t have expected anything less.

“I’m fine,” he assured TK, squeezing his hand. “Even better now that I know you are too.”

And TK smiled at him and Carlos could feel the weight and guilt of every single second before he woke up fall away. TK was awake and alive and okay, and nothing else mattered. He could handle anything as long as TK was okay.

The rest of the afternoon was filled with visitors filtering in and out, all there to see them, all there to make sure they were both okay. Carlos’s heart felt full as he watched the ragtag group that had become their family show up one by one: his parents with hugs for them both, a relieved Gwyn fresh off a flight from Singapore. Each and every member of the 126, the Vega twins, Grace with little Ava who had drawn cards for them both.

As he watched Judd settle his daughter on the edge of the bed at TK’s insistence, Carlos thought of a ring in a box back in his room down the hall. Since the accident he had been so worried that he would never have a chance to ever ask that question. But now, safe in the knowledge that he and TK were both okay and would both make it past this, he wasn’t worried. A part of him still wanted to do it now, to not waste another of their precious moments, but as TK smiled at him over Ava’s shoulder as she pressed her little body against his in an impossibly gentle hug for a toddler he conceded that there were all types of precious moments.

When he did ask it wouldn’t be anything spectacular and he was well past the idea of a grand gesture, but they still deserved to have a moment that was solely their own. Maybe after their company left and Carlos had bribed his way into spending the night by TK’s side. Maybe once they were both discharged and were back in their home. Maybe it would be months from now, over their morning coffee.

Whatever or whenever it was, Carlos knew it would be perfect. Because it would be him and it would be TK and they were going to spend the rest of their lives together no matter how he asked, and Carlos couldn’t think of a better future than that.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #my writing #userkimmy #userac #userjilly #userbones #jazzyjess #reyesstrand #reyeslonestartag #buckybarnesalways #tuserjamie #tuserpaige

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perriewinklenerdie · 4 years ago

Text

Waiting (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Claire Herondale

Word count: 2,4 k

Summary: OH3 Chapter 5 added scene. Ethan and Tobias talk as they wait for the surgery to be over. ft. cute moments between Ethan and Claire

Warnings: None

A/N: Tobias and Ethan friendship will happen. If PB won’t let me make this happen (they will but still), then Imma make it happen myself.

Tobias took a deep breath as the air of the early autumn ruffled his hair. The sun was high in the sky, casting a warm light on his face. He dug his hands into the pockets of his white coat, closing his eyes for a moment. A slight smirk tugged on the corners of his lips at the memory of the meeting he just got out of. He’s always enjoyed teasing Ethan and at some point, that teasing escalated to arguing and one-upping him – he enjoyed the latter even more.

A surprised shriek pulled him out of his wonder, prompting his eyes to open. The sound was filled to the brim with happiness, not raising the alert in his mind, so he calmly looked around in search of the source. And found it rather quickly.

His eyes fell onto a couple, standing in the middle of the garden near the hospital. The man had his arm wrapped tightly around the woman, keeping her close to him. His shoulders shook slightly as he laughed at something she said, then their lips met in a kiss so intense that it made Tobias want to look away. But he didn’t.

Because it might have been the very first time he’s ever seen Ethan Ramsey this relaxed around someone. This happy. For a moment, he wasn’t even sure if his eyes weren’t deceiving him, but upon blinking a couple of times, he was sure – it was Claire and Ethan.

They pulled apart slightly, enough for Tobias to see a wide grin on Ethan’s face as he said something to her, staring into her eyes. He dove towards her right after, caressing the side of her neck tenderly, his other hand gripping the fabric of her white coat at her back.

Their lips meet again, softer this time, gentler, like he was savoring the taste and the feel of her by his side. Come to think of it, he probably was – Tobias himself knew that these two had their fair share of experiences, so it wasn’t all that surprising that Ethan would behave like this, even if it wasn’t what Tobias came to expect from him.

The same intensity, coupled with softness, could easily be found in the way Claire’s arms wrapped around Ethan’s neck, pulling him downwards so they were at a similar height. That made him laugh, breaking the kiss for a second before he adjusted his grip, pulling her upwards, the tips of her shoes barely touching the ground.

When they eventually separated for good, Tobias could very clearly notice their heavy breathing and how they held onto one another despite the fact that the intense moment was behind them. What was left was the tenderness in their smiles and the gentleness of Ethan’s touch when he traced the corner of Claire’s lips with his thumb.

Tobias didn’t need to observe the pair any longer, feeling not like he was invading their privacy – they were making out in the middle of the public garden, for god’s sake – but like he’s seen enough. He’d tease his old friend about this later. With one final look at the pair, he turned back around and went into the hospital.

Ethan walked back to the table in the office, balancing three cups of coffee in his hold. They’ve been waiting for two hours already, with no news regarding Francis. He stopped by Claire’s side, letting her take two cups out of his hands before he turned to Tobias, handing him the third one. His old friend eyed the coffee, then looked up at him with surprise in his eyes and hesitation in every move he did and didn’t make. A short while later, he accepted the cup with a nod, watching Ethan as he walked back to his seat.

Knowingly to both men or not, Claire seated herself between them for a reason. If they were supposed to spend the next couple of hours in that office, they needed to not kill one another in the meantime. If she had to be a buffer, then so be it.

Sitting down, Ethan took his coffee from his girlfriend, her inviting smile eliciting one of his own. The rich flavor helped his tired body wake up a bit, caffeine speeding up his heartbeat a little. He heard a soft hum of appreciation and approval from Claire, his lips curling upwards at the sound.

None of them said a word for the next couple of minutes, finishing their drinks in silence. It allowed Ethan to finally sit down and process what happened that day.

He’s working with Tobias again.

Not even in his wildest dreams would he have come up with such an idea. Nightmares, sure, though he didn’t let such ridiculous notions occupy his mind. Tobias would be the last person he’d consider for a spot on his team, considering both their professional turmoil and the personal one. If they couldn’t hold a civilized conversation outside of work, how the hell were they supposed to put everything that’s happened aside to work together as a team?

He should have known that Bloom would pull something like this – he’s never trusted the man. He wouldn’t trust him with his coffee order, not to mention something as integral as the choice of the member of the team. Every time his new boss inserted himself into their work, despite not knowing a damn thing about it, he wanted to shove a piece of paper down his throat. But he couldn’t – and Claire wouldn’t let him, no matter how much she agreed with him that Bloom deserved that and so much more.

But he didn’t have any choice in that matter now. Tobias was the member of the team. Whether he liked it or not, they would be seeing each other every day and they would have to put their differences aside. If not for the sake of their sanities, then for the sake of their patients.

Perhaps it was time to finally sit down and have a mature conversation about everything that went down all those years ago, like he wanted to do before. They will never go back to what their friendship used to be, too many things have happened. What they could do was resolve the past and try to move forward – Claire’s advice rang in his ears at that idea.

All that would have to wait, however, because in that moment, they had bigger issues than their personal problems. Francis was lying on the table in the OR as Harper raced against the time, and all they could do was wait – he always loathed that part.

His attention has been stolen by the subtle movement near his hand. Claire took his empty cup out of his hand, standing up to take Tobias’s too to get rid of them. Ethan’s eyes followed her as she deposited them on the tray by the coffee machine and walked back to her seat. As soon as she was within his reach, he took her hand into his, tangling their fingers together and giving them a gentle squeeze. She smiled at him, turning her body towards him wordlessly. Her thumb traced the line of his bones, the motion soothing him.

“I can’t decide if I’m tired or restless.” Tobias breathed out deeply, drumming his fingers on the table. The break of silence was welcomed by his other two companions – they were all getting tired of the quiet tension that filled the room to the brim, getting thicker by the minute, making it harder to breathe.

“I’m stressing out, but I don’t think I can keep my eyes open any longer.” Claire concluded, letting her head fall onto Ethan’s shoulder softly. He wrapped his arm around her pulling her into his embrace, a hint of a helpless grin stretching his features.

“You just drank coffee.” He argued, turning his head to look at her. She glanced up at him, scrunching her nose adorably.

“That’s the best way to have a powernap. Scientifically proven.”

“By who?” Tobias asked, smirking suspiciously at the younger woman. She retorted without missing a beat, turning around and leaning out of her seat to look at him.

“By me. Works wonders.” Having finished her line, she fell back into Ethan’s waiting arms, nesting herself into her boyfriend’s embrace once more. He nudged her head with his nose as he mused under his breath.

“If you say so.”

Not much later, her breathing evened out and she fell into a light slumber, burying her face into his neck. Ethan looked down at her with adoration sparkling in his eyes, closing his own eyes for a moment. It didn’t last long, though.

“If you told me years ago that we’d both be on the Diagnostic Team together, I’d call you an idiot.” Tobias started speaking, seemingly innocently, but there was something to his tone that indicated that it was only the beginning.

“If you told me I’d have to work with you despite everything you’ve done, I would have called you an idiot too. Or perhaps something else, more suitable for the occasion.”

“Hey now, E, there’s no need to be so dramatic. If we’re going to be seeing each other every day, we need to be friendly.” He grinned brightly, his eyes falling onto the woman in Ethan’s arms. “Look at Herondale and I, we can be very friendly.”

Ethan scoffed at him, trying to ignore the pang he felt at the last words. He adjusted his grip on her, hugging her just a tiny bit tighter, more securely.

“We have to be civil long enough to get our work done, but don’t think that you walking in here, smiling, will erase the stunts you’ve been pulling all those years. It doesn’t work like that.”

Silence hung between them as their stares tried one another, daring the other to break first. For what must have been the first time, Tobias relented, looking away with tension in his eyes.

“I am aware of that.”

Ethan, convinced that it was the end of the conversation, twisted his frame the slightest bit, allowing Claire to get more comfortable in her sleep. He gazed at their joined hands, her grip secure despite not being aware of that. Her closeness relaxed him like nothing else, his exchange with Tobias suddenly a thousand miles away from his mind. With a private smile, he pressed a gentle kiss to her hair, letting out a deep breath.

Tobias watched the pair silently – not for the first time. But it was the first time that he got to see them from such a close proximity. Even in a situation as tense as the one they all were in right now, they somehow managed to find peace in each other. He’s known Ethan for over a decade and he’s never met a person that was able to lead him away from seeing red with just one look. It’s like she somehow put a spell on him, and to Tobias, it seemed that Ethan was well aware of that – and did nothing to change it. He welcomed it with open arms. “She really got you good, huh?”

Ethan slowly turned his head to face him, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“I mean, come on. Ethan Ramsey, the notorious workaholic, going home after work on time every single day? Walking around the hospital with a grin on his face?” he started pointing out everything he’s noticed during only his first day of working on the team, as well as things he’s heard from the nurses. Ethan remained silent, unsure where this was going.

“Making out with his girlfriend when he thinks no one’s looking?” at that, Ethan’s eyes widened slightly, a hint of a blush climbing onto his cheeks. “Yeah, we all saw your little escapade yesterday. Very charming scenery, red roses suit her.” Tobias nodded towards Claire, then looked at his old friend again. “Not you, though. Red is not exactly your color – I would know, since that’s exactly the color of your cheeks right now.”

“You think you’re funny, don’t you.”

“We both know that I am, E.”

They shared a look and for a moment, they were back at university, thick as thieves. Two friends who could talk about everything. Then the reality caught up to them and Tobias cleared his throat, falling quiet immediately after. The next time the silence was broken, it was Ethan who did it.

“I don’t think I’ve ever properly thanked you.” his voice was deep and low, overcame by emotions of unknown to Tobias origin.

“For what?”

“For saving her.”

Both men looked at Claire, sleeping, blissfully unaware of the conversation that was happening right over her head. Ethan’s eyes softened at the sight of her, safe and sound in his arms.

“I don’t know what I would have done if I lost her.”

“You don’t have to thank me.” Tobias responded, his hand rising on its own to pat Ethan’s shoulder, but he refrained from doing so. Instead, he offered a timid smile that was accepted and eventually mirrored.

“Just… do yourself a favor – hold onto her. And hold on tight.” He continued, saying all the things Ethan already knew. “She’s an amazing woman and, god help her, she sure wants you.”

“Believe me, I don’t know what I did to get this lucky either.” Blue-eyed attending sighed thoughtfully, choosing to ignore the obvious dig directed at him, staring at his girlfriend with a look of wonder in his eyes instead. The new doctor in the team gave him a moment to himself, focusing on the wall in front of him.

And then, in true Tobias Carrick fashion, he threw in a line to break the tension. “She could make any man feel like he’s on top of the world, so I’d watch out if I were you.”

“You’re no competition for me.” Ethan countered, grinning at his old friend, letting the wave of nostalgia wash other them both. Tobias punched his shoulder lightly, faking offense at the words. For hours, they would wait for Harper to emerge from the OR, talking quietly about old and new times as the youngest member of the team lied in her boyfriend’s arms, having heard every word since she closed her eyes.

Notes

The trick actually works wonders, I would know, it saved my ass more times than I care to admit. Well, it works 9 out of 10 times. My girl C landed herself in that 10%. Good for her, some delicious subjects were discussed :D

Tagging separately

#ethan ramsey x mc #ethan ramsey #open heart #fic #playchoices

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its-kall-the-clown · 4 years ago

Note

14 Fluff for Red Son realizing he's nursing a crush on MK

As some context this is post redemption for the demon bull family. So Mei, MK, and Red hang out a lot together now. Red Son is also an idiot. XD

Also this isn’t my most polished work so sorry if it feels rushed.

prompt list

Stop that!! (Don't stop)

Rating: PG-13 for implied sexual interactions

"I think I'm sick"

Red Son admits to the ceiling of Mei's room. They were hanging out like they normally did on days MK was training with monkey king. She was playing some sort of retro video game and he was watching till he got bored and lay on her bed thinking.

"You got a tummy ache?" Mei teased, pausing her game and he huffs rolling his eyes, and sits up.

"Don't be ridiculous" he huffs out and crosses his arms over his chest.

"Okayyyy so what're the symptoms." Mei crawls from her spot on the floor and joins him in bed, sitting crisscrossed with her hand in her lap, and leaning forward eagerly.

"It's hard to explain… sometimes when MK is gone my chest hurts " he places a hand over his heart that was beating normally at the moment.

"And sometimes, when he's around, my hands get sweaty and it feels like I'm gonna throw up and…." He watches a wide unlearning Cheshire grin grow across his friend's face. He continues on, albeit, a bit more hesitantly.

"And….sometimes I can't talk right, and sometimes when he IS around my chest hurts also?" Mei was grinning so wide she was more teeth than she was girl.

"Why are you smiling…."

"OMFG!!?? You have a crush on Mk?!!!" She squeaks excitedly and rolls around in her back as she descends into what Red can only describe as absolute madness.

"What are you talking about??!" He sputters, Mei giggles a bit longer before finally pulling together and greeting him with a wide grin.

"Dude. Your like SO gay for him. 'My HeARt hUrTs WhEn hE’s not arOuNdddd~ " she mocks him in a fake tone and he growls hitting her with a pillow..

"Stop that!" He growls.

"SToP ThAt~" she mocks back and they devolve into a pillow fight on her bed. He girns when he hits her smug face squarely with a dragon stuffie.

Soon they lay panting on her bed and the dragon girl rolls onto her stomach poking him in the face.

"So. Crushing in MK huh?"

He grows beat red again and pulls a pillow into his face and groans.

"You should tell him."

Red son sits up with a smile.

"I should!"

"Yes!!"

"So I can tell him to stop making me sick!"

"Say what now?"

He turns to Mei with a feral smile. This 'crush' or whatever she called it could be fixed. If MK was the one giving it to him. He just needed MK to stop doing...whatever he was doing to make him feel like this.

"Hold on I think you are conf-"

"Thanks Mei!" He gets up and is off to confront the noodle boy as he hears Mei shout at him from her room.

"You're a fucking idiot!!!"

-----------

He storms forward like a typhoon. Red son is a force of nature that can not be stopped, nothing could yield him in his goal or hinder him in his path. Wild horses pulling chariots could not stop him, celestials in heaven would not dare stand in his way, and even his parents (by far the scariest force of all) could not persuade him to rethink what he was doing.

He pushes past the doors to Pigsy's noodles, shoves past patrons and ignores the warning shouts from the pigman.

he had one goal on mind

"Nyyyooodle boy!!!!!!" He bellows grabbing the attention to his problem. Those perfect expression color eyes meet him and the disease in his chest grows. He's in his training clothes, clearly on his way up to his apartment over the shop so he can shower.

Why did the idea of MK showering make his heartbeat erratically? Soft shoulders and cascading water off them…

She shakes his head back and forth now back on track.

"Stop. That." He growls out grinding his teeth together as steam leaves his ears. MK tilts his head slightly. The disease grows more in his chest and he hates it.

"Stop that!!!!" He points directly at MK feeling his hair sputter and spark as his temperature rises. He thinks his face is growing red.

"I'm….not doing anything?" MK gives him a sheepish smile, the kind that quirks up on one side and absolutely obliterates Red Son on the spot.

Like a crunchy fall leaf under the heel of a boot he's crushed.

Whatever motivation he had before it evaporates quicker than a drop of water in the Sahara desert.

"Y-your haven't heard the last of me!!" He makes a quick retreat, stumbling over his own feet and taking out one of Pigsy's tables in the process.

He exits the shop faster than he entered. He needed to regroup and strategize.

-----------

"SoooOOOOOo How'd it go?" Mei asked her eyes not leaving the screen, she's playing a different video game now, and she didn't even spare him a glance when he came back as if she predicted he would fail.

"Horrible!!! All it did was make this sickness worse." He throws his arms up and paces back and forth biting his lip. Mei doesn't pause her game this time, only continuing to mash buttons as he grumbles under his breath.

She lets out A long-suffering sigh and finally pauses her game.

"Dude. I know you're behind on the lingo and stuff but a 'crush' isn't a sickness. It means you like MK. As in you want to kiss him and stuff." she explains with a shrug unpausing her game and the sound of power-ups and pixelated men punching each other continues.

Red Son halts in his tracks

He pictures kissing MK. pressing his lips to the boy's soft adorable lips. He can practically feel the warmth it would produce. He pictures MK smiling into the kiss as they awkwardly bump noses. He pictures holding MK’s hand, squeezing it gently as they walk hand and hand. He imagines the feeling of MK’s hair between his fingers as he runs his hands through it.

He sucks in a gasp, his heart beating out of time.

Of fuck.

“I’m so screwed…..”

He feels Mei patting his shoulder, she paused her game again when he was fantasizing

“Yeah, you are. But at least now you can DO something about it.” she nudges his side and he blushes a bright red and he can hear her chuckling at him

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

“Can we talk?”

MK blinks back at him looking back and forth for a moment as if he was confused by his precence. Which to be fair he DID just enter through MK’s window while he was showering and was now waiting for him on his bed.

“Uhhhhh sure?” they rub the last remaining moisture from his hair with a towel before tossing it to the floor to be added to piles of laundry they had yet to do. Red Son didn't even curl his lip up at the slob-like behavior because HOLY SHIT MK IS SHIRTLESS!!!

Of course, MK didn't even seem to care that he was only wearing grey sweatpants in his presence. Red Son guilty looked MK’s chest up and down while they searched for a sleep shirt. Working out with Monkey King has been paying off because MK was sporting some muscle. He also had a few scars from battles that only added to how attractive he was, and of course, there were the two faint top surgery scars under his pecks.

“Is this about your weird episode in the shop today?” they asked pulling him from his guilt ogling and MK pulled a shirt over his body. Damn what a shame.

“Mei says I have something called a ‘crush’ and I should ‘tell them how I feel’ in order to make the pain in my chest go away,” he explained using quotation marks with his fingers to punctuate himself. MK’s eyes widen slightly and then it's schooled quickly. They join Red Son on the bed.

“O-oh? Have you told them?” MK squirms in place and keeps his gaze cast down. He looks uncomfortable, no. he looks upset? Why would MK be upset? Was it because he broke into his room again without permission?

No not that. Although he will have to apologize later

“I’m working on that part,” he explains scooting closer to MK and he grabs one of their hands gently. This felt stupid, and he thinks his sickness will kill him with how quickly his heart is beating. He was terrified and all his symptoms were amplified by ten.

He looks into MK’s espresso-colored eyes looking for something. He loved those eyes. They showed so much in them and he SWORE they could change the whole lighting of a room.

He opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water with his false starts. Eventually, he clears his throat and releases his confession.

“Umm well...MK. I h-have a crush on you.”

he shuts his eyes and waits for the rejection, waits to hear MK laugh with their head back and shove him away.

None of that comes.

He peaks an eye open to find MK’s face a bright scarlet red. Was that a good sign? Or was MK so angry at him that he was just building up anger inside of him like a volcano ready to blow.

“ I w-will leave now.” he pulls away ready to retreat with at least his dignity still in tack. He's pulled back violently and soft lips are smashed to his. He lets out a surprised whimper and absolutely melts into the feeling. His brain is electrified and static all at once.

He kisses back hungrily grabbing MK by the waist and pulls him closer. When they are running out of air only does MK pull away with a little breathless gasp.

“Stay the night?” They requested, placing a soft kiss to the juncture of his neck and he can’t find a single cell in his body that would possibly say no. He nods numbly and MK kisses him again a smile on his lips that he could taste.

----------

“MK GET UP! YOU ARE LATE AGAIN!!”

Pigsy burst down the door jolting the demon awake from his peaceful slumber, his arms that were previously wrapped around MK pull away quickly in the process. He thinks he could stick to the ceiling with his claws like a cat in a cartoon if he jolted just a little higher.

The covers are yanked off them both before Red Son even has time to protest. Thank gods they both put underwear back on when they finished satisfying each other. Red Son is completely and thoroughly exposed to MK’s boss, bitemarks, and hickes across his chest snitching on him.

Red Son and Pigsy meet eyes and he feels a sweat break out across his neck. Pigsy sighs and pinches his snout. He sucks in a deep breath and lets it out through his nose.

“I don't know what happened here... And I don't WANT to know. Tell MK he’s got ten minutes to get downstairs.” Pigsy turns on his heel and leaves slamming the door behind him. Red Son looks over to his now-boyfriend who’s mouth hangs open with drool dripping down his face.

MK slept through all of it.

He can’t help but chuckle and kiss their forehead gently.

#lego monkie kid #monkie kid #MK #Red Son #spicynoodleshipping #Red Son may not be the sharpest cookie in the box #thats it. thats the sentance #wrtting prompts #prompt ask

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mk-wizard · 4 years ago

Text

Are any of the Burns LGBTQA?

Hello, Transformers fans. Today’s topic is a question raised by the fabulous @petrichornial and considering that LGBTQA fanfiction is very popular in the Transformers lore, it does raise the question if any of the characters in Rescue Bots officially are. Before I get into my honest, respectful analysis, I want to make things crystal clear;

I think the concept of being LGBTQA being sin is not only ignorant, but also false. If the Lord had a problem with them, he wouldn’t keep putting them on this Earth. His concern is if we are good and the fact that LGBTQA people are capable of love is proof of goodness.

This is not an attack on slash fanfiction. Just because something isn’t or most likely isn’t true doesn’t mean you can’t have fun in your own AU fanfic. With that said, anyone who uses this article here as an attack on other fans who write slash fanfiction involving the Burns will be reported by me first. Yes, some slash fanfiction has unhealthy and sometimes, criminal undertones, but most doesn’t and most fans of it are harmless, so just leave them alone if you don’t like what they write.

Anyway, I will start by saying that I am absolutely sure that none of the Burns including uncle Woodrow are transgender, genderfluid or non-binary. We have seen them show enough skin to be able to tell that they are all born with the genders they identify as and there is no talk or scenes of them taking anything transgender people who have undergone surgery would still need. Also, none of them identify with the “they/them” pronoun. Each one of them identifies as “he/him” or “she/her” and consistently only identifies that way. So all this evidence tells us that none of them are non-binary or genderfluid and I am very sure none of them are transgender or intersex.

Now, we get into the gray area which is orientation and to do this analysis properly, I will observe each family member individually. First up is the head of the household and the star Chief Charlie Burns.

Charlie Burns has only shown a romantic interest in women as he was at one time married to a woman and he even got involved with a nurse during the course of the series, so he most definitely likes women. He is also very progressive as well as open minded as he welcomed aliens into his home and grew to love them as family, his best friend Doc Greene is black and he always shown kindness to everyone regardless of who or what they are. He is also confident enough to be openly in tuned with his masculine and feminine as he loves to wear that apron that has the torso of a woman in bikini on it. However, if he is so obvious about who is and has the confidence to put it on display this blatantly, I think it is very likely that he is straight as he has only shown a romantic interest in women and if he also had one in men, we would know by now. While I have no doubt that he would be very accepting if any of his kids, friends or relatives were gay/lesbian/bisexual, he is clearly not gay or bisexual himself. He is straight though clearly not narrow.

Next up is Kade Burns who we know for sure isn’t gay at least because he most certainly and shamelessly is head over heels for Hayley. Despite not being the sharpest tool in the shed or handling romance with an outdated approach, it is clear as day that his feelings towards Hayley are deep and he values what they have no matter how many times he fumbles. So he is most certainly not gay. With that all said, there is a small fraction of a chance that he might be bisexual or pansexual. While he has never shown a romantic interest in anyone who was not a woman or just not Hayley, the possibility is there and knowing how macho and insecure Kade can be, he would be in the closet about it in the beginning.

Then we have Dani Burns who like Kade, cannot be a homosexual because she had a very real relationship with Taylor despite it being complicated and at times, on the verge of not working out. She clearly can be attracted to men so she is not a lesbian. However, like her older brother, it is possible that maybe she is bisexual or pansexual, though if she was, she would be open about it because Dani is a lot like their father Charlie. She is open and proud about who she is, so if she does swing either of those ways and we just did not get the chance to see it, she would not hide it.

Next up is the heroic nerd Graham who like the others listed so far is also not a homosexual because he too has been in a romantic relationship with someone of the opposite gender who might add is also a great match for him: Amy. So that puts that to rest. Like Kade and Dani, it is possible that he is bisexual or pansexual, but we never got a chance to see it. If he did swing either way, like Dani, he would most likely be open about it simply because Graham is pretty easy going about what he is for the most part.

Now, the wild cards start coming out. When it comes to orientation, Cody Burns is a blank slate because he’s just a child. He is not romantically aware yet altogether, so the idea of dating or kissing anyone disgusts him in general. Also, his relationship with Frankie Greene is clearly just them being best friends and it is heavily implied in the series that it will never be anything beyond that. However, I recall that in one episode where he was physically aged into an adult, he displayed disgust when Hayley kissed him. It could simply be that he still had the mind and emotionally maturity of a little boy so romantic gestures would be off putting to him. Mind you, it could have been a sign that he could be or rather, will turn out to be gay or asexual when he matures. In Rescue Bot Academy, Cody is a teenager and has no interest in girls or romance in general which backs up the possibility that he might be asexual. Or like me (I’m straight if you’re curious), he is simply a late bloomer when it comes to being romantically aware and will not show in interest in relationships until his adult years. In short, Cody is to officially be determined, but there are some possible flags that hint that he just might be asexual or gay. Like I said though, these are just possible little flags and officially, he’s still just a blank slate.

Lastly, we have Woodrow who we know for sure is single, always has been and remains so throughout the series’ run while showing no romantic interest to anyone altogether nor does he ever bring up ever having had a crush, ex or dream significant other. While it is never officially confirmed, evidence suggests that Woodrow is most likely asexual. It is possible that he can be something else on the list yet isn’t interested in a long term relationship, but if I had to wager, I would go with him being asexual.

And that concludes my analysis. Overall, the possibility of any of the Burns family being LGBTQA+ is there, but in very specific ways and when it comes to Charlie, the evidence suggests that he is as straight as they come. I hope my analysis was fair and respectful. Like I said, I could be wrong, but I am just going by the facts that I have before me.

Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think of this theory. And please, have a good day and stay safe.

PS: Support LGBTQA+ rights. Like I mentioned before, if you have the capacity for love, that alone is proof of goodness within and this group is not the exception. They merit just as much kindness, respect and decency as any other people do.

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astarryon · 4 years ago

Text

Promise Me

Ten Minutes and Two Centimeters

Warnings: Arguing, anger, light language

Chapter Summary: Spencer’s been given one more chance to make himself clear. He’s determined not to waste it.

Masterlist

Chapter Four: I Want to Take It With Me

He’s always hated hospitals.

When people ask, he tells them it has to do with trivial attributes. The lights are too bright, there are far too many germs milling about, the mass amount of crying people make him uncomfortable. And while those are all true, while he really doesn’t care for those aspects of hospitals at all, Spencer knows in his heart that it’s less to do with any of that and more to do with what hospitals symbolize for him.

People leave. It’s something he’s learned at much too early an age, yet is also something he’s still learning to cope with. His father left when he was a boy, with little more than a scrap of paper by way of explanation. His mother had gone away to the sanitarium when he was eighteen, and though he’d been the one to send her there, he’d still felt the loss. Gideon left. JJ left. Emily faked her death.

People leave.

It’s true. And with as many people who have left him over the years, Spencer figured he’d be used to it by now. But then he’d held you in his arms, cradled you as your blood slowly crept its way out of your body and onto the floor, and he’d suddenly realized that he wasn’t quite as acclimated to loss as he’d initially thought. He knows this, because when the doctor comes to alert him to the fact that you’re conscious and asking for him, it’s all he can do to keep himself from bolting upright and running straight to your room.

He does walk at a quick enough pace to earn him a dirty look from a passing nurse. Any other day, he’d make the fort to slow down and apologize. But today isn’t any other day, and he doesn’t slow his steps until he’s made it to your door and sees, with his own eyes, that you’re sitting up and smiling.

“There you are,” you giggle, beaming up at him with wide, excited eyes, and the look you give him is so reminiscent of the one on your face from last Valentine’s Day that he’s left breathless. “It’s rude to keep a girl waiting you know.”

And he wants to do witty. Really, he does, because he knows it’ll leave your face with a smile larger than life, and considering he wasn’t sure he’d ever get to see that smile again up until two hours ago when the doctors notified him you’d made it through surgery, it’s all he wants. But there’s too much going on in his head, too many dark almosts and what-ifs to be properly ignored for the sake of rejoicing. This is a happy moment — and, really, he’s bursting with joy at the sight of your open eyes — but it’s not something he can display outwardly just yet. He’s too... there are too many things that need to be said before any of that takes place.

His silence confuses you, made evident by the confused glint in your eye that’s just beginning to overshadow your wide grin. “Spence?” you prompt, tilting your head to the side. The machine you’re hooked up to beeps with the spike in your heart rate, and he has to go out of his way not to tease you for it. “Did you hear me?”

Your tone shifts, and he hears the worry in your voice just as he takes note of how it begins to curl your mouth into a frown. “Spencer,” you try again, quietly pleading. He hates himself for what he’s doing, but he can’t seem to stop himself from allowing the events he’s set in motion to play out. “Spencer, what’s wrong?”

He has to say it. Before anything else, he has to say it.

Spencer swallows hard against the lump in his throat. Liquid hellfire burns his eyes in the form of unshed tears. “Do you know,” he chokes out, “how incredibly unlucky a person has to be to get hit with a shot like that? Actually shot? You were wearing a vest. The bullet hit you a centimeter too high. One centimeter lower and we would’ve walked out of there in the next thirty seconds. Two centimeters higher and you’d have—“ He cuts himself off, the horrid taste of potentials staining his tongue uninvited. He doesn’t even want to say it, doesn’t want to give power to what could have happened to you tonight. To what almost happened to you tonight.

“Spencer,” you whisper, reaching for his hand, but he snatches it out of reach before you can make contact.

“No,” he insists, wringing his hands together. He has to keep them preoccupied. His body seems steadfastly determined to betray his mind, and much as he wants to, he can’t let that happen. There are certain things he needs to get off his chest, say out loud, before he can even think about letting himself give into you. It’s the only way to make sure. It kills him, but it’s the only way. “You don’t understand, I almost… I could’ve lost you tonight. You were ten minutes and two centimeters away from dying in my arms.”

“But I didn’t,” you counter, and he knows. He sees the furrow of your brow, the stubborn set to your delicate jaw, and he knows you’re about to throw it all right back at him. “I’m still here, Spencer, you still have me.”

“Because of chance!” He doesn’t realize he’s shouting until he see you flinch, but he can’t stop, can’t back down. “You’re still alive because of dumb luck! Dumb, stupid luck, that very easily could’ve gone the other way!”

“But it didn’t,” you shoot back, and Spencer has to kill the urge to scoff. As if that’s an excuse.

“It could have.”

“Yeah, but it didn’t!”

“It could have!”

“Why are you yelling at me?”

“Because you gave up!” Spencer roars, tears pricking like thorns at the corners of his eyes. “You gave up, and the worst part about it is that you expected me to just be okay with it! Don’t—“ He flings a hand through the air to silence you as soon as your mouth opens. He’s seething, shaking, boiling with rage. He has to get it all out, and he has to do it now, or he risks poisoning any chance of your future together with unspoken resentment. “You started talking about yourself like you were already dead! Started making me promise that I wasn’t going to let losing you stop making me smile! Do you even— do you know how ridiculous that is? How unfair? You were bleeding out in my arms, and you were worried about my fucking smile? I was two centimeters away from having to bury you six feet underground, and you were worried about my smile? My smile should’ve been the last thing on your mind!”

He expects you to yell back at him. It’s only fair, after all, and he wouldn’t fault you for taking cheap shots at him the way he’s taking cheap shots at you. In some sick, twisted way, he almost wants you to, if only to find some confirmation that he isn’t alone in feeling the severity of this situation so deeply. Doesn’t it effect you? Doesn’t the fact that the rest of your life was nearly stolen away right out from under you bother you? Aren’t you seething over the fact that the rest of your forever was nearly cut short?

If you are, you make no show of it. You don’t raise your voice, you don’t curse, you don’t take it out on him the way he’s taking it out on you. You only blink, analytical appraisal clear as day in your tired eyes, and not for the first time since you’d come into his life, Spencer is left to marvel over how much better a person you are than he is. He could never say something like that out loud — thinking you’d ever let him get away with it is, in a word, naive — he knows the truth, even if the chances of you admitting to it are nonexistent.

You prove him right when you reach forward slowly, keeping eye contact and making sure you have permission, before resting your hand against the mangled mess of his own. “Spencer,” you murmur, searching his face. For what, he’s not entirely sure, but you must find it judging by the degree of which your eyes soften. “What is this about?”

“I told you,” he tries, knowing all too well that he doesn’t sound convincing in the slightest. You see him much too clearly — he should have known better than to think he could hide what was truly bothering him from you. “You almost died in my arms, I... it was too much to handle.”

“No, Spence,” you tell him, the embodiment of patience. “I mean what’s this about, really?” You make it clear that you aren’t leaving any room for protests this time around.

So Spencer decides to tell the truth.

“You almost died,” he whispers, shaking his head. “And I realized if you had, you’d never...”He can’t bring himself to tear his eyes away from the floor, to look up at you and memorize every inch of your face a million times over like he wants to. The way he’s acting, he’s not particularly sure he deserves the luxury. “You’d have never known. I never told you.”

“Never known what?” you ask gently, blinking in pursuit of understanding. “Never told me what?”

“That I love you,” Spencer breathes, gripping your hands so tightly he can feel your pulse through your fingers. “I love you so much I can barely fucking breathe sometimes. I love when you laugh about things that only you think are funny because no one else understands the joke. I love the way you can’t seem to sit still for more than fifteen seconds at a time because there’s so much on your mind and not enough time in the world to get it all out. I love the way you let me talk your ear off about things you’ve never heard of and don’t care about, even though I’m sure I must bore you out of your mind sometimes. I love— I love your smile! You always tell me I have a beautiful smile, but the truth is it doesn’t hold a candle to yours, and I— I don’t understand how you don’t see that! I love you, do you hear me? From the very bottom of my heart, I love you so fucking much. I love you.”

For a moment, you fall silent, and the only sound traded between the two of you is the steady beat coming from your heart monitor, incredibly consistent considering all the yelling. But then a chuckle falls from your mouth. Spencer is so shocked that at first he thinks it’s an odd sounding cough, but then it happens again, and then again, and he’s able to piece together what’s happening with the addition of the succession.

“Spencer,” you wheeze, clutching at your chest. He hopes you aren’t in pain. His ears are turning red with embarrassment and he can’t believe you’re laughing at him at a time like this, but he really hopes you aren’t hurting. “You don’t think I know that already?”

He blinks, mind shorting out. “Well, I— I never told you.”

“You never had to,” you go on, the widest grin he’s ever seen your mouth make splitting your face from ear to ear. Spencer doesn’t think he can remember a time when you’ve ever looked so positively delighted. “Spencer, I wouldn’t have... we wouldn’t have gotten this far if I didn’t think you loved me. I wouldn’t have let it.”

You knew. You’d known this whole time. All this time — all those nights tangled in his bedsheets with your arm secured around his waist, all those good morning texts and flirtatious jabs at the office, wondering when everyone else was going to catch on to your little game. All those sweet kisses and affectionate embraces and evening walks beneath the starlit sky. All those different ways he’d tried to silently convey it, and you’d been picking up on his meaning the whole time.

Had he known... had he known that you’d known...

“I’m sorry,” Spencer whispers. It’s all he can think to say.

“You don’t need to be,” you tell him with a resolute shake of your head. Of course; you’re the most gracious person he knows, after all. Not even getting yelled at immediately after waking up from emergency surgery could change that. “Just... I know you’ve already made me so many promises tonight. I know that. But will you promise me one more thing?”

“Anything,” he tells you, and he means it with his entire being, body and soul.

“Just... trust that I know,” you murmur, gazing at him with more sincerity than any one person has ever shown him before. “In the way that you know that I love you, trust that I know that you love me. Okay?”

“Okay,” he murmurs, nodding his head. “Okay. I promise.”

You reach for his hands, still tightly clasped in front of him, and this time when your fingers brush his knuckles, he frees one and lets you take it to hold. “I love you, Spencer Reid.”

And for the first time after hearing you speak those words, Spencer isn’t given pause.

“I love you too,” he tells you adamantly.

... And he does.

—

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #mgg #matthew gray gubler #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #cm #hurt/comfort #angst #fluff #happy ending

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stxphxn-strange · 4 years ago

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i found the one, he changed my life (what now?) [i’d love it if we made it, pt. 3]

a/n: holy SHIT i am so happy about the way this turned out, this continues the story of college AU!tony dealing with his ex and the pressure he puts on himself to be honest with his friends. (title from “what now” by rihanna) TW: discussion of abusive relationships, mention of surgery, unhealthy/stalking behaviors, and i think that’s it but pls lmk if there’s anything else i should tag

summary: “He’s obsessed with you [...] I think he loves me, I feel certain that he loves me. But he feels some kind of way about you, and it’s creepy,” Bucky elaborated, leaving Anthony at a loss for words.

“It’s a nice day, seasonal allergies aside,” Anthony remarked.

“I would put flowers in your hair and be all cute and shit but I’m trying not to make you sneeze,” Stephen replied. “That would be unfortunate.”

Anthony laughed lightly and rested his head on Stephen’s shoulder. “You can still pet my head though, that would be nice.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re terrible at subtlety?” Stephen asked, beginning to play with Anthony’s hair.

“I think you did this morning,” Anthony replied. “Because you’re obnoxious.”

“Isn’t that why you love me?” Stephen teased, batting his eyelashes.

“It’s one of many reasons,” Anthony said, a soft smile on his face. “It is really nice out though.”

“Listen I know I’m always on time, but can we make an exception today?” Christine sat across from the couple, her auburn hair made extra bright by the sunlight as she pulled it out of her face. “Sorry I’m late.”

“The way that you’re literally not sorry at all makes that apology for me,” Stephen said. “Don’t worry about it though, we’ve just been hanging out. Where’s Hope?”

“Inside, for some reason,” Christine replied with a shrug.

“Probably because it’s allergy season,” Anthony commented, rolling his eyes as he sneezed again.

“He complains, despite begging me to sit outside with him,” Stephen added.

“That doesn’t sound like me, but go off I guess,” Anthony replied, picking up his phone. “Hey Rhodey, what’s up?”

“Are you running errands by chance?” Rhodey asked.

“Nope, I’m sitting outside with Steph and Christine,” Anthony said. “Why, do you need something?”

“I was just going to ask if I could send you a short list of things I wanted. Not a big deal but I’m out of cereal,” Rhodey replied.

“Text it to me anyway, I don’t think I’m going out but if I do I’ll get whatever you want,” Anthony said with a shrug.

“You’re the best Tones. By the way are you feeling better?” Rhodey asked.

“A little bit. It’s nice just sitting outside,” Anthony replied. “I dunno. I’m not thinking about it.”

“Fair enough. Enjoy the fresh air, don’t worry about the cereal though! See you later.”

“Bye Rhodey, everyone say bye!”

Christine and Stephen shouted their goodbyes as Anthony ended the call.

“You good?” Christine asked kindly.

“Yeah, sorta.” Anthony shrugged again. “I just didn’t sleep a lot last night, so that wasn’t fun. I’ve been stressed out about… things. Turns out it actually is weird to have one of your friends dating your ex.”

Christine hummed. “Tea. I thought there was something bothering you, like more than just the awkwardness. I can read you well enough by now. So what’s wrong?”

“Honestly I don’t want to tell you this exact minute because I feel like the only person who should hear this privately is Bucky. I’ll have to see how I feel after I talk with him, and if I’m okay then I’ll probably tell everyone in the group all at once. I just don’t want to repeat the same story over and over again, that’s going to wear me down,” Anthony replied. “I hope that’s okay.”

“Oh my god dude that’s fine! No stress,” Christine rushed to assure him. “You just seem sad and I want to help but I also don’t want you to make yourself feel worse, that’s not fair to you.”

Anthony breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks Christine.”

“Don’t worry about it!” Christine said.

Anthony sneezed again, not seeing the need to reply beyond that. There was just nothing else to say.

“Let’s go inside,” Stephen suggested. “It’s getting kinda gross out anyway.”

“Oh sorry, that’s because I’m out here. I’ll leave.” Anthony jokingly moved to stand up, laughing raucously when Stephen pulled him into a hug before he even stood.

“Nooo, you’re good! You stay,” Stephen replied. “The sun is out because you’re here.”

Anthony blushed and buried his head against Stephen’s collarbone. “Oh hush.”

Christine stood up. “I may as well go inside while you two idiots keep flirting, now my allergies are acting up.”

“You’re not allergic to pollen,” Stephen remarked, standing up and offering Anthony his hand.

“I’m not allergic to most things, but I’m allergic to your bullshit,” Christine quipped. “I feel like I tell you that at least once a week.”

Anthony laughed and stood up, smiling as he wrapped his arms around Stephen’s waist.

“In all seriousness, you’re cute together,” Christine continued.

“Oh we know,” Anthony said. “How was your day Christine?”

The trio headed inside as Christine thought about how to answer.

“Honestly I don’t think anything even happened today.” she finally said. “Hope and I had breakfast together and I quite literally ran into Carol in the library. It was nice to catch up with her though because I feel like I haven’t seen her in years.”

“Now that I think about it, I also feel like I haven’t seen Carol in a long time,” Stephen said.

“We didn’t talk for too long since we were in the library, but she seems good,” Christine replied. “I think she and Val are still unpacking so they’ve been focused on that, y’know?”

“Makes sense. Props to them for moving in the middle of the year, that’s too much for me. That’s why I’m making everyone wait until the summer,” Anthony said.

“You’re not making anyone wait, you’re just making sense,” Stephen corrected him. “Moving is stressful enough, I don’t want to deal with it during exam season and neither does anyone else.”

“Can I plan your housewarming party?” Christine asked, opening the apartment door.

“Who said anything about a housewarming party?” Anthony replied.

“Wong said I could throw one once you’re all moved in,” Christine explained. “We don’t have a contract in writing yet, but that’s because—”

“Because I never said you could throw us a party!” Wong shouted from the living room. He was sitting in his usual armchair by the window, half paying attention to whatever show Bucky and an all too familiar blond were watching. “Also Bucky is here again, and he brought a friend.”

“Boyfriend,” Bucky chimed in. “We’re going to dinner soon, I just left my jacket here the other day and then I decided I’d introduce Steve to you guys. So yeah, this is my boyfriend Steve. Steve, this is Christine, Stephen, and I think you know Tony. I heard there’s a history there or something.”

Bucky was trying his best to prematurely make the best of an awkward situation, but Steve was the only one who found any humor in what he said.

The offending blond laughed and nodded, his expression unreadable in a way that made Anthony freeze. He was looking with condescension at their entwined hands, like he didn’t approve of Stephen and Anthony finally being together. With an arrogant sniff, he got off his high horse long enough to respond. “I know him and Stephen, actually. You both look good.”

“Thanks,” Stephen replied, his teeth bared in a forced, blatantly hostile grin.

Anthony rubbed at his eyes, tearing up from the situation and his allergies. “Yeah good to see you too, if you’ll excuse me I need to take some allergy medication.” He couldn’t run and hide in the bathroom fast enough, and he knew everyone in the room could see him trembling.

Stephen let his genuine emotion break through his façade for a moment, frowning as he watched Anthony retreat. His steely look of disapproval returned a minute later as he sat down in the kitchen, eavesdropping on the group’s conversation.

“Mind if I get some water? I didn’t get to hydrate as much today,” Steve asked.

Stephen, pretending to be busy, glared at his phone like he was reading a poorly worded email. He paid little attention to the blond as he bumbled around the kitchen, following Wong’s directions on where to find cups and the Brita and other shit.

“So you’ve finally come back to the city, hm? Tony used to tell me about how you both grew up here and how New York never left you,” Steve asked Stephen. He was making an extremely poor attempt to sound friendly, but all he did was make the med student extremely uncomfortable.

Stephen gave a forced laugh. “Yeah, they couldn’t keep me away.”

“Seems like you couldn’t keep yourself away from Tony either, not with the amount of times he cheated on me with you,” Steve remarked.

“Listen, we both know that’s not true and I barely want to give you the time of day. You know damn well he never cheated on you and I don’t have to justify myself to you. After all, you were the cheater. If you think I’m just going to roll over in my own apartment and let you run your mouth like that, especially knowing how badly you treated my Anthony, then you’ve got another thing coming,” Stephen snapped. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Clearly anyone who thinks I’m aggressive and controlling hasn’t met you,” Steve said, closing the fridge and leaving Stephen fuming in the kitchen.

After 15 minutes of ignoring some small talk, Stephen had had enough. Anthony was still hiding somewhere and Stephen was just over Steve being in his apartment. He was trying not to be too angry, because Bucky didn’t know about how Steve and Anthony’s breakup or relationship went. Stephen couldn’t, and didn’t, blame him.

But Steve was a coward and a jerk, and Stephen wouldn’t touch him with an 11 foot pole. Stephen wouldn’t even get close to him to shove him headfirst out the door, actually.

“I’m gonna be in my room studying if you guys need anything, enjoy your dinner Bucky!” He said, waving at his friends in the living room and pointedly ignoring Steve.

“Thanks man! If you want to hang out later, maybe on a double date or something—”

“Oh I’d love that!” Steve chimed in, unprovoked and uninvited.

“Depends on what Ant’s doing, I know I’m pretty busy tonight but if he wants to go out then we’ll let you know,” Stephen said firmly. He heard the bathroom door open behind him and Anthony’s light footsteps in the hall.

“I think I’ll just run to the bathroom before we leave, if that’s alright?” Steve asked.

“Are you asking me?” Stephen replied, ignoring him and heading in the direction of his bedroom. “Don’t you dare patronize me.”

Anthony was standing nervously outside Stephen’s room, staring at the floor. He looked horrified and meek, pressing his back against the wall and hoping he’d disappear out of Steve’s gaze.

But of course he wasn’t that lucky. Sometimes it felt like he’d never truly get away from the way Steve used to look at him and was apparently still looking at him.

Anthony looked up as Stephen gently tapped his shoulder. “Hey… you alright?”

He forced himself to nod, tears still pooling in his eyes from either anxiety or allergies. Maybe both. “Yeah, I guess. It’s just—”

“Oh there you are Tony! Bucky and I are leaving, so I thought I’d say goodbye,” Steve said, lingering in the doorway to the bathroom. “Maybe we could go for a double date later? If you’re allowed to, that is. I always said Strange was a controlling downgrade, didn’t I?”

“Good thing I never listened when you said that, because I’m much happier now,” Anthony muttered.

“Aww, don’t be a bad sport! It’ll be just like the glory days.” Steve appeared to be ignoring his current relationship to flirt with Anthony, stepping out of the doorway and leaning closer (read: too close for comfort) to him.

“I don’t know about that,” Anthony said, his voice taut. “I wouldn’t want to be around you for much longer. Seeing you is already making me think about our… could you call it a relationship?”

“You’re so funny Tony, just as funny as I remember.” Steve sounded like a content house cat as he quite literally purred at Tony. “I miss that humor. I just miss you.”

“I can’t say the feeling is mutual.”

++++

“Not to state the obvious, but I hate that guy,” Stephen muttered, storming into the kitchen a few hours later.

“Is Ant okay?” Wong hadn’t moved from his seat in the living room, except for the fact that he was laying across the armchair sideways and there were three more mystery novels next to him.

“He’s sleeping. Even before all of that shit went down,” Stephen began, gesturing to the air in front of him, “We were outside for long enough that even if he won’t admit it, his allergies are bothering him.”

“How long were you outside for before I came to sit with you guys?” Christine asked.

“Maybe 90 minutes? Long enough to be considered too long,” Stephen replied. “It doesn’t matter. Did you guys eat yet?”

“No, we were waiting on you and Pepper. She said she’d be back by 7,” Christine said.

“What do you want? I’m open to suggestions,” Stephen asked. “I kinda want to make pasta but I know I’m not good enough at it so it wouldn’t make Anthony happy.”

“Don’t be stupid, Stephen. It absolutely would, and you know that,” Christine scolded him. “Do whatever you feel like! And I think pasta sounds nice.”

Stephen nodded. “Fair enough. I’m making ravioli and none of you can stop me. We deserve it.”

“Oh no Stephen don’t do that, don’t make something that you like to cook and that we all like to eat,” Wong teased. “Christine, he’s too powerful, we have to stop him.”

Stephen humorously rolled his eyes. “Anthony is the one who gave me a good recipe, so technically we all have him to thank for enabling me. Except not right now. Let him sleep.”

++++

“Oh by the way, I told Bucky that I’d get coffee with him later and we’re going to talk about whatever the hell happened this weekend,” Anthony said. “Do you want me to bring you back anything while I’m out?”

“Hmm… I don’t think so.” Stephen drew a heart on the back of Anthony’s hand with his thumb, something he noticed himself doing a lot.

Anthony always rewarded him for the gesture with the smallest, shyest smile that Stephen thought was the most adorable thing ever. “Text me if you change your mind, yeah?”

“Okay, I will.” Stephen smiled back at him, lovingly brushing Anthony’s hair out of his face. “Also if I send you a list will you help me decide on a movie for tonight?”

“Not sure you’re asking the right person, but sure,” Anthony replied.

“That’s subjective. I think I’m asking the right person,” Stephen said. “You’ve never steered me wrong before.”

“I hope I never do.” Anthony pressed a soft, sweet kiss to Stephen’s lips. “But knowing you, you’ll definitely change your mind about wanting a tea or something.”

“If I do, I’ll tell you,” Stephen replied, smiling into the kiss. “Promise. Have a good day, and good luck later.”

“I think I’m going to need it,” Anthony said with a little nervous laugh.

“Would a kiss help your luck?” Stephen couldn’t keep a neutral face. “I never imagined myself saying that. Or getting to kiss you.”

“Stop it, don’t make me blush this early in the day,” Anthony replied. “In all seriousness, I love you. And your kisses are magical, who’s to say they aren’t lucky?”

++++

Anthony couldn’t say whether or not he felt lucky later that day, because the only thing he felt was nervous. Bucky looked just as nervous and sheepish as Anthony did, and his internal monologue had already switched to guilt. They exchanged small talk and pleasantries while they waited for their coffee, their mutual discomfort becoming more and more tangible by the minute.

Most people joked that Anthony talked to hear the sound of his own voice, but today he was so nervous he couldn’t hear himself think. He didn’t know what to say or even where to start. Thankfully, Bucky blurted out a question before Anthony thought about how to start the conversation.

“How long were you two together?”

“Two and a half years, give or take. And I didn’t cheat on him with Stephen.”

“I didn’t think so. I wasn’t even going to ask about that.” Bucky smiled, trying to somehow calm Anthony down with his expression. “Who broke it off?”

“Me. Sometimes I feel like I did it a lot later than I should have, honestly.” Anthony shrugged. “I wasn’t ever happy in that relationship. I wanted to be, and I did everything I could to make it work even at my own expense, but eventually I had to end it. I’m happier now, but sometimes I still… I shouldn’t say any of this to you, not if you’re happy.”

“You know what bothers me, though?”

Anthony wasn’t expecting that. “What’s up?”

“I don’t think he’s over you. And that doesn’t bother me in a jealous sense, I’m not like that, but I feel almost used. Especially after this weekend,” Bucky said.

“What do you mean?” That worried Anthony for a lot of reasons, and he couldn’t decide which one was the most important.

“Tony, he's obsessed with you. The entire time we were driving Sunday night he wouldn’t stop talking about you, to the point where it was weird. I started to feel like he used me to see you,” Bucky replied. “One time I showed him a group picture, this was like six months ago, from that time we went out ice skating and ever since then he’s been pestering me about you. I don’t even think it has anything to do with me, if that makes sense.”

“I’m not following,” Anthony admitted. “Not entirely, anyway.”

“I think he loves me, I feel certain that he loves me. But he feels some kind of way about you, and it’s creepy,” Bucky said. “Now as I said it’s not jealousy, I just think it’s a bit disturbing that he’s so hung up on you.”

Anthony nodded slowly. “Yeah, I don’t like that. He didn’t want me to dump him but I had to, there’s no two ways about it. What happened Sunday?”

“We had a disagreement. I told him I felt used and he wasn’t happy about that, but he didn’t deny it either,” Bucky replied. “I was hoping he’d drop the whole thing but I don’t think he’s going to. I don’t think he’s going to ever get over you, honestly.”

“Damn. I’m sorry you had to deal with all of that.” Anthony nervously ran a hand through his hair, fighting the urge to pull at it. “Um… yeah I don’t really know what to think or what to say.”

“Neither do I,” Bucky admitted. “I really want to try things out with him and see how they continue, but I also don’t think he’s going to change. Now that he’s actually seen you, I feel like it’s only going to be more awkward.”

“Oh about that, I’m sorry I didn’t want to go out the other day,” Anthony said. “I was going to try and make myself power through it, but… just being around him for however long you guys were in the apartment was way too much. I got really anxious and just hid in Stephen’s room. And then, on an unrelated note, I ended up sleeping for 14 hours or something.”

“I’m sorry if I was forceful. I didn’t know how to subtly ask if he was making you uncomfortable in the moment, but I could see it,” Bucky replied. “I don’t blame you.”

Anthony shrugged. “Dude I’m at a loss, generally speaking. I don’t know what to say about everything you just told me, but honestly I’m feeling a little sick.”

“Are you going to see Stephen? I’m meeting Christine, so if you want I’ll walk with you,” Bucky offered.

Anthony nodded. “Sure.”

“I really am sorry, Tony. For everything this weekend, and if something I said upset you after your wisdom tooth surgery,” Bucky said.

“It’s not your fault. I’ve been stressing about how to tell everyone about that relationship for too long and the way I felt when I woke up just reminded me of something I still don’t really want to talk about,” Anthony replied. “There’s a lot I’m holding back, even from you, but I’m just not ready to go into all of that yet.”

“I won’t be upset if you tell me,” Bucky tried to comfort him.

“It’s less about that and more the fact that I don’t want to even think about it. I don’t want to think about him,” Anthony said. “I don’t want to hear his voice, or see him, or even hear about him, if I’m being honest. And I feel bad, because I know you love him, but—”

“But you’re my friend, and I care about you. Plus you’re way too polite to be direct when something or someone upsets you and I think that does more harm than good. You just end up keeping everything to yourself, and you don’t have to,” Bucky interrupted. “You don’t have to be a closed book all the time.”

Anthony smiled at that. “Stephen’s said that to me before. I don’t know why, but I like that phrasing. I’m not one to open up in general, even though I trust everyone in our friend group, but this feels like it’s too much to get into the open right now. Someday I’ll be ready, but not today. It doesn’t help that this weekend was honestly too soon.”

“That’s fair man,” Bucky replied. “I don’t have to tell you that Stephen loves the shit out of you, and you deserve that.”

“I could go on and on about Steph probably endlessly,” Anthony said, hiding his face as he blushed.

“Everyone knows that, even people who have never met either of you know that!” Bucky teased. “But honestly, are you okay?”

Anthony shrugged. “Yes and no. I just need time.”

“I understand. And I am really, really sorry about this weekend,” Bucky replied. “Forgive me?”

Anthony shook his head. “Do I need to? It’s not your fault.”

“I know it’s not, but still… I’m sorry. I hope that means something, at least.”

tags: @stark-strange-love2 @taruyison @chocopiggy @majesticnerdynerd @spooky-n-spunky @merlynthedisasterchild @kitkatfat15 @maya-custodios-dionach @katninjagirl97

#tony stark #stephen strange #ironstrange #my ironstrange college au #protective stephen strange #james rhodey rhodes #wong #protective Bucky #james bucky barnes #christine palmer #implied christine/hope #implied valcarol #not steve rogers friendly #implied anti stony #implied anti stucky #ok off to dream about part 4

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sneakydraws · 4 years ago

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Well, here it is - a lengthy explanation of each card in my mdzs major arcana deck and what I meant to convey/what i would have changed in retrospect/what alternatives i considered! It’s a bit messy and my typing style is lazy but hopefully it will be an interesting read to some of you :)

And so you don’t say I didn’t warn you - jiang cheng’s section (11 justice) is absurdly long lmao

0 the fool I elaborated on this in the post itself but yeah basically jin ling is kind of representative of all the damage and trauma caused by the past, and there’s a kind of danger there of him falling victim to the same vices as the older characters and repeating the same mistakes and perpetuating the cycle of war and misery (the cycle that we already see with how the jin sect became the new wen sect, and later with how jgy became the new wwx) and he has a lot of room to grow! He grows so much over the course of the novel, comes to realise the complexities of the past and gets a harsh life lesson in how nothing is as black and white as it seems. But ill save talking about his progress for the end, for now whats important is that he has room to grow and also a dog. I don’t really have a justification for the sun, i mostly just thought it looked sick? It made its way to the next card as well, where it makes a bit more sense, but then i realised it was a dumb motif to include 1 the magician I still very much like wwx for the role, and that illustration would have probably had him raising a corpse on his left and pointing threateningly to the sun on his right. I considered including the table as well, with some mdzs relevant items replacing the card suits. Anyway, like i said wwx got a few cards to himself already so i went with the alternative wq design, since i think she fits the card as well. Both she and wwx are highly skilled people, extremely driven once they set their mind to something. The card to me symbolises the creative mind as well as a general drive for action, which fits them both - wwx was famously a prolific inventor, and wq came up with a previously unheard of surgery, after all. This card strays pretty far from the rider-waite deck design, largely because i was still figuring out how i wanted to approach this series, but you can still see the influence. 2 the high priestess I was actually going to skip this card at first because I couldn’t think of a fitting character, but once i considered a qings character post death, it all fit pretty well. She was already a highly intuitive person in life, and in sharing her memories with wwx she is, in a way, relaying a kind of secret knowledge. Anyway she’s one of my fav characters so im glad i got a chance to include her. The coffins could be interpreted to be xxc and sl or xxc and xy 3 the empress Theres other mother figures in mdzs who got to be mothers for a longer time, but jyl definitely embodies the positive aspects of this card the best. She’s nurturing, kind, emotionally supportive, she already mothered wwx and jc quite a bit when she was young. Plus i liked that the rw card had both water and flowers, making an easy lotus connection. In retrospect the stars look kind of out of place and i should have replaced them with something more relevant... Also, i should have had her hold a lotus seed pod instead of a flower, haha 4 the emperor Like i said I considered jc for the role but hoching bullied me into admitting that nmj was better… they’re both more of an inverted emperor than an upright one but then again theres hardly any character in mdzs who would fit upright emperor so. Jgs was also considered but he’s even uglier than nmj so i couldn’t bear to draw him 5 the hierophant It was pointed out to me that lqr would have fit this card better and the truth if that statement haunts me to this day. Unfortunately I have no space in my brain for lqr so lxc got the role instead. My main reason was his role during the wen destruction of gusu lan, when he ran away with the contents of the library - this is why there’s bookshelves behind him. The keys, take, from the rider-waite deck, are meant to represent the gusu pendants that allow you to enter 6 the lovers Im sure many people would have chosen wangxian here but I uhh don’t really care abt wangxian personally? And also their love story is so convoluted that jyl and jzx seem idyllic by comparison lol. Also i didnt really have an idea for who to put in the angel’s place for wangxian… mme jin certainly did not get these two together in the end but undeniably she and mme yu did initially give them a chance to fall for each other so. Thats something i guess. Anyway the trees became their sects’ flowers and the mountain became the burial grounds - an omen of their tragic fate, basically 7 the chariot There might have been other characters who fit this card better but i couldn’t really think of another card for lwj and i thought it would be weird to not include him… anyway i don’t really care for current timeline lwj BUT i do like that he was clearly influenced by wwx to walk his own path in life based on his moral convictions rather than follow his sect’s rules blindly. The chariot is to me a card of self control, self determination and focused action, so it seemed fitting. The composition felt kind of empty without the actual chariot so i padded it out with the guqin, the cloud recess in the bg (it doesn’t look great but i tried to replicate the drama design….) and the bunnies which conveniently fit the colour scheme of the sphinxes in the rider-waite design 8 strength Like i said before, my interpretation of this card is more… morally ambiguous than the quote unquote official meaning, so i thought about manipulative or duplicitous characters more than kind characters whose strength is expressed through gentleness (though i did consider jyl briefly for the latter interpretation). As such, i considered both jgy and nhs, but ended up going with jgy largely because i couldn’t pass up the opportunity to put the nie sect’s beast as the lion. 9 the hermit My thoughts immediately went to bssr lol. It may be an overly literal interpretation but whatever, i like it just fine. And i like that i managed to echo the rider-waite silhouette in the mountain and the tree (and even in bssr herself) 10 wheel of fortune God i love the parallels between these 2… this card to me is about how you cant trust your current situation, good or bad, to last forever, and these 2 embody that perfectly imo. Wwx went from son of a well off servant and a powerful cultivator, to street rat orphan, to adopted son of sect leader jiang, to double orphan, to MIA, to terrifying but admired warrior, to terrifying and despised traitor, to dead, to, at the very end, suddenly respected and trusted again. The dishonesty and cheapness of whatever the public’s current opinion of him is is portrayed beautifully as far as im concerned. And jgy of course claws his way up to power only to instantaneously become public enemy number one, to the point that he’s probably blamed for stuff there’s no reason to believe he had a hand in. Wei wuxian’s silent astonishment at how quickly the cultivation world turns against jgy and towards him again is a delicious moment of thematic resonance. 11 justice I settled on this card for jc after he got booted from the emperor seat but i do think it fits, in a somewhat convoluted way. I turned both the sword and the scales into visual representations of the golden core transfer (can you tell im obsessed with it). According to biddy tarot, the justice card is partly about searching for the truth, and the scene where jc finds out about the transfer is of course a big deal. I was also very influenced by the reversed meaning again - which is about being reluctant or unwilling to face or accept the consequences of your actions. I feel on an intuitive level that this fits jc but I’m not sure how well i can explain it - it’s something about how he’s a little too comfortable scapegoating wwx for things that were also, if much less so, influenced by his actions, and also something about the way he keeps wwx at an arm’s length emotionally but still leans on him and accepts his support when he really needs it, and somewhat hypocritically expects wwx to put the needs of him and the jiang sect before the needs of others. And also something about the core exchange is the consequence and proof of wwx’s deep - terrifyingly deep, even - love and care for him, which is something jc doesn’t seem to let himself acknowledge. Maybe even something about how you could argue that the way all of the jiangs acted around wwx - jfm’s favouritism that left him with the feeling of a debt he needs to repay, mme yus insistence that he be a servant more than a brother to jc, prepared to give his life for jc, and jc’s own unwillingness - or inability, he was a child after all - to clearly acknowledge wwx as an equal to himself, enabling wwx’s self sacrificial and protective tendencies - that all of this was what caused wwx’s complete and unquestioning willingness to do whatever it took to protect jc, and therefore paved the way to the golden core transfer. And i don’t mean this to be scapegoating jc - especially considering how young he was when this all went down, it wouldn’t be fair to expect this level of emotional perceptiveness, awareness and maturity of him - but i think adult jc has to grapple with the fact that the chain of cause and effect was not as simple as wwx fucking everyone’s lives up to be a martyr, and that both jc and his parents had a role in that story as well. I don’t even necessarily think this is something that jc only realised in the current timeline - i think it’s something he felt on some level this whole time, and it probably led to a lot of feelings of guilt - but the suibian reveal definitely puts it in sharp focus, and i think he’s now better equipped to handle this introspection than he was as a recently orphaned, traumatised teenager, lol. ANYWAY the window with the fabric is both a nod to the rider-waite design and a reference to the destruction of lanling - i actually did some basic ass research for this, and it seems that in ancient china fabric would indeed be hanged in a window if the normally used paper was damaged. The design of the window, as well as the very idea to use it to imply the reconstruction of lanling, was taken from this great piece of jc angst by my pal moroll1! Oh yeah also the covered window kind of works as a denial of forgiveness for jc because it’s like a halo but covered up... Also I completely forgot to put a blindfold over his eyes which would be perfectttt because blind justice and the core exchange......... ok moving on 12 the hanged man I always have issues with this card because i cant find a satisfactory summary of what it’s really about. Best i can tell it symbolises a need to hit pause, surrender or let go of something… ive also seen it tied to sacrifice? So mo xuanyu doesn’t fit perfectly, but sacrifice is definitely there in a surface level reading kind of way, and the idea that you have to surrender or let go in order to achieve your goal does fit the whole deal of getting revenge but giving up your life in exchange and not being there to see it 13 death This is probably one of my favourite cards, definitely not because I have huge issues with change or anything…. I see this card as signalling the necessity of change or putting an end to something / leaving something in the past in order to start anew? At first i considered putting past wwx, mxy and current wwx here as a kind of transformation and one cycle flowing into the next... But firstly, I’d already used mxy in the very previous card, so putting him in again would feel like overkill, and secondly, the longer I thought about it the less convinced I was that this would even fit with the card’s meaning? Because coming back from the dead doesn’t like... trigger an internal transformation within wwx or anything? Anyway, fun fact: the design I ended up going with was actually originally intended for judgement! I thought I was being very clever with the whole “figure plays an instrument and the dead rise” parallel, but apparently I’d just completely forgotten that the judgement card had a completely different composition... Truly I was boo boo the fool... But yeah anyway at the end of the day I figured the design would kind of work for death as well, with Wen Ning and the theme of transformation, (since in his case coming back as a fierce corpse does actually mark a certain transformation in behaviour) and Wei Wuxian’s protection of the Wen people essentially signifying an attempt to break the cycle of oppression if that makes any sense? Like, wwx is trying to revolutionise the way the world works a bit, if you catch my drift 14 temperance The centrist card! Again this is probably going off track from the “official” interpretation, but to me this card has a certain “don’t commit fully; do everything in moderation; don’t take either side” flavour to it that i personally find infuriating irl and that i very much assign to lxc. It’s entirely possible that I’m misinterpreting his character because i didn’t really pay him (and the 3zun in general) much mind while reading, but hell, I’m allowed to pick favourites and choose who i want to interpret deeply vs shallowly. Again, i wish id chosen lqr for hierophant because its so annoying for a character i don’t care about to get two cards…. But oh well 15 the devil My alternative idea for this was jgy as the devil and lxc plus nmj as the figures, but since all three had been featured already (multiple times, even!) i figured I’d go with xy instead, especially since he’s among my faves lol. I think the devil signifies something along the lines of unhealthy attachment, obsession or addiction, which isn’t 100% accurate in the case of xxc and a-qing, but if i stretch it a bit to cover toxic relationships in general, and especially manipulation or negative influence, i don’t think it’s half bad. My main struggle here was to choose who amongst the xxc/sl/aq trio to choose for the human figures. 16 the tower Arguably jin zixuans death and the following massacre of nightless city were the final and most direct reason for the siege of burial mounds, and the tiger seal is good shorthand for wwx’s loss of control over his powers, which led to the deaths of jzx and jyl. When reimagining major arcana i like to feature some kind of building in this card (spoilers for a possible future project but in my rose of versailles major arcana set the tower is bastille) and even if it’s not a tower, the image of wwx looming over the gathered crowd from atop a rooftop is so good i couldn’t resist 17 the star Struggled with this one - considered both jin ling and lsz for it, as symbolising a hope for the future, but that was kind of covered by the world so it wouldn’t make sense to include here as well... As usual when I struggle with interpreting a card (as opposed to understanding it but struggling with matching a character to it, like with death or moon) I went to biddy tarot and read all the details about its meaning. What i got was that this card signifies an incoming period of introspection and inner peace following a time of turmoil, as well as a general moving on into a new, better phase of one’s life or finding new meaning and purpose. The figure also suggests someone vulnerable, but possessing a keen sense of intuition as well as a good degree of practicality and common sense. Given all those, I settled for mianmian because IM LOVE HER..... I also kind of see her as a prelude to the “just one person is enough” theme present in tgcf!! And i think her decision to abandon her sect because she saw the toxicity and corruption in it is a very inspiring action - even if it didn’t make a large visible impact, i think the appearance of her and her idyllic family at the very end of the novel - paralleling and mirroring wangxian - implies that at the end of the day, it was a meaningful one 18 the moon Another card i ALWAYS fuxking struggle with - this time less because i can’t grasp its meaning and more because I can never find a character that fits it well. I usually get fixated on the “dreams and subconscious” part, but if i lean more on the “disguise, deceit, anxiety and fear” part, i eventually figured the whole yi city arc wouldn’t be a bad fit. I say the entire arc because it really does encompass all those themes if you include both the past and the present - xue yang’s disguise, his tricks with the villagers, a-qing’s lies and even xxc’s reluctance to talk about his past as well as xue yang pretending to be xxc all fit the disguise and deceit angle, and the general mystery and creepiness of the current timeline yi city work well with the anxiety and fear - the mist, the slow uncovering of the past, even a-qing being revealed to be an ally after scaring the shit out of the protags. I definitely struggled with including all the elements and characters, and even moreso with making them vaguely fit the rider-waite composition, but i think it ended up okay ish. OH and i completely forgot to draw mist swirling around them :( 19 the sun I was considering mianmian’s family for this one, but since I used her for star, I ended up with wwx and his parents instead. Once again I’m reinterpreting the card a bit - normally I think it symbolises incoming times of pure happiness and abundance, as well as a connection with the inner child, but I gave it more of a nostalgic or sentimental twist - wwx looking back at the brief glimpse of his happy childhood. 20 judgement another card that i struggle to interpret a bit... Here i actually used the tgcf tarot zine as a reference! In it judgement is summarised as “rebirth, following duty, absolution” SO i figured that nhs, mxy and wwx all together would fit pretty neatly... wwx achieving (public) absolution through clearing his own name after being reborn, and nhs sort of calling on wwx to expose jgy’s crimes... It’s a bit messy but not bad I think! 21 the world This ties very closely to my read on mdzs as a story - which is that it’s, at the end of the day, largely about cycles, and about how hard it is to break them, but how we gotta keep trying and have hope anyway. Or maybe more precisely, that the people directly involved with and influenced by the trauma of the past might not be able to get over said trauma and that the hope for healing from it will be shouldered by the new generation. Or something like that… Basically what i mean is that jc and wwx and lwj and lxc and nhs and jgy and all these people who were in the thick of the sunshot campaign and the siege are so profoundly affected by it that it genuinely feels by the end of the story like there is little hope for them to ever truly overcome that trauma and build a better future without repeating the same old mistakes - but there is a glimmer of hope in the new generation, specifically in jl and lsz. And it’s a bit paradoxical, because they have also been directly impacted by the past tragedies - lsz having his entire clan wiped out after wwx failed to protect them, jl losing both his parents to wwx’s mistakes - but despite that loss, and despite coming from arguably the two opposing sides of the past conflicts, they are both, in the end, capable of moving past that tragedy, of recognising the complicated nature of those conflicts (jl’s moment of clarity at the end is both heartbreaking and hopeful) and forging friendships between clans in the process. I honestly think that the extra where jl is struggling to assert his authority as sect leader, to treat his subjects well and to cooperate with other sects in a truly amicable way is the single hopeful ending note for the larger themes of the novel - it allows us to imagine that maybe these kids can learn from the mistakes of their elders rather than getting sucked in by resentment at those mistakes, and actually build a brighter future for the cultivation world. And sidenote, this is also why i have a soft spot for jin ling and lan sizhui as a ship... speaking of which their poses were directly referenced from the lovers card ehehe

Looking back, I’d like to add some symbol of jin ling’s trauma so that it mirrors baby wen yuan in the tree stump... maybe his father’s sword?

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #tarot

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marjansmarwani · 4 years ago

Text

tender-hearted sadness pulls me through the day

7.9k || ao3

Carlos is hurt, badly, and TK is faced both with the awful possibility of losing him and the fact that his parents still don't know about them. He promised Carlos he could tell them in his own time though, and he doesn't intend to break that promise for anything. Even if it means he can't be there, even if it means he has to hope from a distance. He would do anything for Carlos, after all.

aka that Carlos’s parent’s fic I’ve been working on for what feels like forever. It’s finally done and since @officereyes was the one who insisted I write it in the first place and it is her birthday, it feels only right to offer it as a part 2/on the actual correct day gift (surprise). I hope you enjoy it Jamie!

This idea was also requested by @noxsoulmate after I had already started writing it so I also hope you enjoy, and that it was worth the wait! This was started around the same time that 2x04 aired so it is definitely no longer canon compliant, though I did tweak a few things as the season progressed. Thanks to @justaswampdemon for reading through it last night to tell me if any of it actually made sense or not because I wasn’t sure after working on it for so long!

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

TK couldn’t stop staring at his hands.

They were shaking and though he had nearly scrubbed them raw he could still feel the memory of the blood that had coated them only a half-hour before. It was Carlos’s blood and the reminder sent his hands trembling all over again. The sight of the accident was still so fresh in his mind. It was everywhere, trapped in all of his senses — the fear of realizing just who it was trapped in the crushed vehicle, the overwhelming scent of the blood stuck in his head, the sound of the heart monitor flatlining and his own desperate pleas for Carlos to stay with them, the helplessness of Carlos’s life leaking away under his fingers — he couldn't shake it. He knew he wasn’t likely to until he saw Carlos, until he had proof that he was okay.

But he was also a medic and he knew that the alternative, the thing he was trying so hard not to think about, to not put any energy into, was just as likely an outcome as any.

His anxiety spiral is interrupted by the sound of frantic footsteps that pause as they grow closer to his seat.

“TJ?”

He sat bolt upright at the sight of Carlos’s parents, expressions tense and eyes full of fear, before him.

“Mr. and Mrs. Reyes,” he stammered, standing up and shoving his shaking hands into the pockets of his pants, “hi. Uh, have they told you anything yet?”

“No,” Mrs. Reyes said fearfully, “we just got here.”

TK nodded, anxiously twisting at the interior of his pockets, “I’m sure someone will be by soon,” he assured her, “he’s only been here for about an hour.”

“And how long have you been here?” Carlos’s father asked him, studying him with a piercing gaze.

“About an hour,” TK repeated, “I was on shift, we responded to the accident. I rode in on the ambulance with him and since it was the end of my shift anyways and my Captain knows Carlos and I are...close, she told me just to stay.”

He met Mr. Reyes’s gaze, refusing to look away and hoping desperately that he hadn’t noticed his falter. It wasn’t a lie, but the omission weighed on him. Never once since their start had he denied his feelings for Carlos. He had made that mistake once, in the very beginning, and it had nearly prevented what they had become. But he had no other choice; he had made Carlos a promise. And he wouldn’t break it, not for anything.

The other man’s father nodded, eyes zeroing in on the paramedic badge on his shirt. “I thought you said you were a firefighter?”

“I was, the paramedic thing is pretty new. We lost one at our station, during the volcano, and I was already dual certified from New York so…” he trailed off with a shrug, his gaze drifting from the parents before him to the doors of the trauma wing Carlos had been wheeled into upon their arrival.

“You treated him?”

TK snapped his gaze back to find Mrs. Reyes looking at him with wide eyes. He swallowed, and nodded, “I did, ma’am,” he confirmed, voice soft with repressed emotion.

“And?” she asked him desperately, eyes shining with unshed tears, “How is he? How is my boy?”

How did he tell them? How did you tell your boyfriend’s parents that not even an hour ago you had been scared out of your mind that he was going to die in your arms even as you and your team worked desperately to save him? How did you do all of that without showing the emotion, how did you do that when they don’t know — when they can’t know — that his presence is what allows you to sleep soundly each night, that his smile is the thing you most look forward to seeing each and every day?

They were both looking at him as if he held all the answers and to be fair, he did. In terms of what had happened, at least. He was just as clueless as anyone else as to what would come next.

“He was involved in a very serious accident,” he settled on. “He lost a lot of blood but we managed to get him stabilized in the field. That’s all I know though. If I knew more…”

He trailed off but Carlos’s mother shook her head, reaching out to place a warm and trembling hand on his arm, “Thank you,” she told him, “for telling us, and for saving him. Carlitos is so lucky to have such a wonderful friend.”

“Of course,” he said without hesitation, even though her well-intentioned words stung, even though he had to swallow what would have come next: he would do anything for Carlos.

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

It’s another few hours before his dad and the rest of the 126 show up. He may have been exaggerating when he had told Mrs. Reyes that his shift was ending when they arrived at the hospital. The reality was that Tommy had told him to stay. She had said that she and Nancy could handle the last few hours without him and that he would be too distracted to focus for the remainder of the shift so he may as well just stay. She had been right, but that meant there had still been a shift to be finished before anyone else was available to join his vigil.

A doctor had come by, a short while ago to give them an update. The surgery had gone well and while they had repaired the damage, they cautioned them that he was not out of danger yet, that the next several hours would be key. The knowledge had settled like a lead weight in TK’s stomach, the dread seeping through his veins. He saw his own fear clearly reflected in the eyes of Carlos’s parents and knows that they are all connected by it, even if they don’t know it.

When the doctor told them that Carlos was being moved to a recovery room where he would be closely monitored and that a nurse would be by when he was settled to let them know, TK realized a whole other layer to this nightmare. He won’t be able to be there. There is no way he can justify sitting by Carlos’s bedside to his parents as a “friend from work.” In order to be there for Carlos, he would have to tell them the truth, and he can’t do that. Not when he made Carlos a promise.

That’s how his team finds him: alone in the waiting room, leg anxiously bouncing against the floor as he stares in the direction of the recovery rooms, wanting nothing more than to be able to be beside Carlos, to have concrete evidence that he hadn’t lost him.

He allowed himself to be pulled into hugs and subjected to comforting pats before anyone asks the question he’s been dreading. It’s Marjan that does, her unwavering and empathetic gaze studying him as she speaks the words: “Is he still in surgery?”

“No, he’s in recovery now.” TK assured them, allowing them a moment to take a breath of relief before he continued, “The doctors said that the next few hours will be crucial, that those will be what really makes the difference. So we’re just...hoping for the best.”

They all nodded, but Paul’s piercing gaze studied him, “If he’s in recovery, why are you out here and not in there?”

TK bit his lip, turning his gaze downwards. He and Carlos hadn’t exactly shared their conflict about his parents with their friends. If TK was being honest, he had been hoping they wouldn’t ever have to, that they would cross that bridge before it ever became an issue. Clearly, the universe had other plans.

“His parents are in there,” he replied, hoping that maybe they wouldn’t push, that maybe they could just leave it there.

But these were their friends, and they wouldn't be so easily satisfied.

“Is he not out to them?” Marjan asked gently, taking the seat beside him.

“No, he’s out to them it’s just...complicated.”

“How complicated can it be?” Judd asked as he settled into a seat across from them, “he’s out and you two are solid. Seems pretty uncomplicated to me.”

TK didn’t know how to explain it, exactly. “They don’t know he’s in a relationship,” he settled on, “and he’s not ready to tell them. We...talked about it a few months ago, and I told him that was fine. That we could move at his pace. I mean,” he broke off here with a shrug, meeting the eyes of his teammates, “it’s the least I can do for him, right? Extend him the same understanding he gave me?”

The others exchanged glances that TK couldn’t read. Judd looked in the direction of the recovery rooms, “This ain’t right kid,” he said softly, “Carlos would want you there. You should be there.”

TK shook his head firmly, “I promised him he could tell them on his own terms, Judd. I told him I would wait as long as he needed. I can’t make that choice for him, and I won’t. I made him a promise.”

There was silence in the wake of his words. The others exchanged glances and TK looked away, not wanting to see their pity. He knew he was making the right choice, but that didn’t make the reality of it any easier to face. Carlos had nearly died in his arms just a few hours ago. The cold fear of losing him was still fresh in his mind, he still hadn’t been able to shake the chill from his bones. And now he was in a room just down the hall and TK couldn’t be there. Of all the challenges they had faced, this might just be the worst one yet.

Paul let out a low breath and shook his head, “I hear you man, and it’s admirable. I get you wanting to respect Carlos’s wishes, but you’ve got to think about yourself too. Maybe it would be easier for you to not be here? Sitting here and not being able to be with him has to be hard. You could go home, wait there instead. We’ll let you know if there are any updates.”

TK gave him a tight smile, “I appreciate it, but no. Even though I can’t be with him, I can’t imagine not being as close to him as possible. I’m not going anywhere.”

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

His friends come and go, but TK simply waits. He assures them that he’s fine when asked, but otherwise, he is not great company. All he can manage to do is sit quietly and wait. And hope. He takes a turn around the waiting room, he bounces his leg anxiously at his seat, he fiddles with his necklace. He does everything he can to keep his body busy while his mind is fully occupied.

He knows that right down the hall his boyfriend, the person who he might just love more than anyone else on this planet, is in a medically induced coma. He knows that he can’t be there, and he knows why.

That doesn’t mean he hates it any less.

That also doesn’t mean that the last image he has of Carlos — bloody and crashing on a gurney being rushed to a trauma room — is going to leave his mind any time soon. He needs to see him. He needs visual confirmation to cancel out the nightmare image running through his head. He knows that he can’t, not right now, but he won’t leave until he can.

The waiting room empties and fills again several times during his vigil. The daylight he had entered in had faded long ago and the dark night sky was visible each time the hospital doors slid open. It was still a few hours before he saw Mr. and Mrs. Reyes leave from his corner of the waiting room. They stepped through the hospital doors hand in hand, Mr. Reyes rubbing comforting circles on his wife’s back as they headed back to their car, presumably to go home and get a few hours of sleep.

TK, who had been coming close to dozing off in his seat, was suddenly wide awake. Carlos’s parents were gone, he could go see him. He was out of his seat in an instant, his feet carrying him towards the door he had been staring at all day before his head could properly catch up. It wasn’t until he neared the door that he slowed, that he processed.

It felt almost wrong to be sneaking in. He felt almost guilty for waiting for Carlos’s parents to leave, for jumping on the opportunity the moment it presented itself. But he needed to see Carlos. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to settle until he did. He could not have the last image of him in his mind be what he had looked like when they exited the ambulance. He may have gotten the same updates from the doctor but that did nothing to ease his fear. He had nearly felt Carlos die under his hands all those hours ago. He needed to feel him breathing too.

He stepped in quietly, though he knew there was no danger of waking him. He had barely made it over the threshold before he froze, nearly toppled by the wrongness of seeing Carlos so still. To the casual observer, he probably looked like he was sleeping. But TK knew Carlos Reyes. The man was an energetic sleeper. He moved constantly in the night, always shifting and reaching out to pull TK closer when he felt he had strayed too far away. Always striving to press his body against his, always keeping them close; even in sleep. But it was more than that. His face was all wrong. Carlos’s face was expressive, even in sleep. Whatever he was thinking or feeling or dreaming was always laid out in full display for TK to read but now his face was blank. That more than anything struck TK as so foreign, so unusual.

He took a deep, wavering breath as he crossed the room, running his eyes over him as he drew closer. From the outside, he didn’t look too badly injured, but TK knew with a cold certainty that most of the damage was hidden by bandages under the blankets. He knew that there was so much more to this than met the eye, that as wrong as Carlos looked in this bed it was a far sight better than the alternative — than what he had feared from the moment they arrived on the scene.

“Hey babe,” he said softly as he reached the side of the bed, reaching out to run a hand through Carlos’s curls, “you look better than you did earlier. I hope you’re feeling better too.”

He paused here, taking another moment to study him up close now. He bit his lip against the tears that wanted to come. He didn’t know how much time he would have here, he wasn’t going to waste any of it crying.

“I know it’s going to take some time,” he said instead when he managed to steady his voice, “and I want you to know you should take all the time you need. We’ll be fine until you’re ready. I’ll be fine. I just,” he broke off, took a steadying breath, and started again, “I just want you to know that I probably won’t be here a lot, just in case you ever wonder why you can’t hear me, if you can hear any of us. I need you to know it’s not because I don’t want to be here or that I don’t love you. Because I do, so much. And there is nowhere I would rather be than right here with you at all times. But I made you a promise, and I intend to keep it. It’s…” he trailed off, taking another breath as he leaned forward, taking Carlos’s hand in his own, “it’s the least I can do,” he finished softly.

He lapsed into silence then, savoring in the sight of his chest lightly rising and falling with each breath. Not so long ago he thought he might never see that again. He had never realized just how much he had taken the concept for granted. He vowed that he never would again.

He leaned forward now, resting his head on the arm not intertwined with Carlos’s. “I just need you to come back to us,” he said quietly. “I need you to come back to me. I don’t want to face life without you. Don’t make me, please.”

Even though he knew there would be no reaction, even though he knew the other man was heavily sedated, he studied his face for any hint of recognition, any glimmer of hope he could sustain himself with. There was none and it was that truth and the weight of Carlos’s hand in his that saw him off into a fitful sleep.

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

The sound of footsteps woke TK, causing him to sit bolt upright and glance around frantically, heart thudding in his chest.

“Relax,” an unfamiliar voice instructed, “we definitely don’t need a cardiac patient on our hands, on top of everything else.”

It took several tries to blink the sleep out his eyes before he could make out the scene in front of him. He was in Carlos’s room. He must have fallen asleep here. He pulled himself fully upright, stretching and rubbing at the back of his neck with a grimace as he studied the nurse checking Carlos’s vitals. She glanced over at him with a raised eyebrow, “Good morning.”

“What time is it?” he croaked out.

“Just past 6, so I’d imagine if anyone were to come back after going home to sleep for the night they’d likely be back soon.”

“How’d you…”

She shrugged as she checked Carlos’s IV, “Call it an educated guess. I mean, I know you paramedics are pretty dedicated but I have yet to see any of you spend an entire day in the waiting room for a patient. Figured there had to be a bit more to it than meets the eye. That, or I have to call security on you.”

“He’s my boyfriend,” TK said softly, reaching out to take Carlos’s limp hand in his own, tenderly rubbing his thumb across it, “but his parents don’t really know. It’s...complicated.”

The nurse’s eyes softened as she studied him, “You probably have almost an hour before anyone else shows up, visiting hours don’t officially start until 7 anyways. After that, you should try to get some sleep. You’re starting to look like you should have a bed of your own.”

TK shook his head, “I’m fine, thanks.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, sounding wholly unconvinced. “Well if you are around later and want an update feel free to ask for me at the nurses’ station. My name’s Becky.”

“Thank you, Becky,” he said with a small smile, “you have no idea how much I appreciate that.”

She waved off his thanks as she headed towards the door. She paused on the threshold, turning back to study him again, “Hey, Paramedic?”

“TK,” he provided.

“TK, then. If I find out you’re lying to me and that I should have called security…”

He gave her a grin and a tired laugh, “Then you know where I work,” he reminded her, gesturing towards his uniform, “pretty sure you’ll be able to track me down.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. I hope everything works out for you two and for what it’s worth, he’s doing okay.”

“Thanks, Becky,” he said softly, turning his gaze back to Carlos’s still form before Becky smiled at them from the doorway and stepped quietly out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

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

“This is an intervention,” Paul announced.

TK looked up sharply to see his team gathered around him several hours later. He had slipped back into the waiting room around 6:30, heedful of Becky’s warning. It was now just past 10 and he was currently being stared down by his team. He furrowed his brow in confusion and was just about to ask exactly what the hell Paul meant by that when Marjan continued.

“You’ve been here for over 24 hours now, TK. You’re still wearing yesterday’s uniform, you haven’t eaten and I doubt you’ve slept much.”

“I got a few hours!” he interjected but faltered when he was met with 4 equally unimpressed looks.

“And while I’m sure that was adequate sleep,” she continued in a tone that made it clear she did not in fact believe that, “you need more than that. Preferably in a bed. Preferably in your own bed.”

TK looked down and Judd continued, voice gentle, “You need to take care of yourself, kid. You can’t be there for him if you keel over. Let us help you out.”

TK bit at his lip. He knew they were right, logically. There was only so long he could keep this up. Soon enough his body would start protesting. He could already feel the effects of little sleep and no food in his sluggish thoughts. Realistically he knew they were right, but he couldn’t stand the thought of leaving Carlos. He wasn’t out of the woods yet. The thought that something might happen when he wasn’t there was enough to keep him rooted to his spot in the waiting room, consequences be damned. “I can’t leave him,” he choked out, “if something were to happen…”

He trailed off, but Paul simply shook his head, “Nope, you’re coming with us. Judd and I are going to take you home. You’re going to shower, change, eat something and get at least 4 hours of sleep. Then - and only then - we’ll bring you back. Marjan and Mateo will stay here and let us know if anything changes. If it does we’ll bring you right back, promise.”

TK scanned the faces of his friends. They wore matching looks of determination, and he knew that this was not an argument he was going to win. He nodded, pulling himself out of his seat and throwing another glance in the direction of Carlos’s room. He felt a hand on his arm and looked over to see Marjan giving him a sad smile, “Don’t worry, we won’t let you miss anything.”

“Yeah dude, we’ve got this!” Mateo assured him as he plopped into an empty seat.

TK gave them both a grateful smile. He wished he could have offered more, but he couldn’t find the words. Nothing his mind produced seemed adequate enough to express the level of gratitude he felt for each and every one of them. He hoped they knew.

He allowed himself to be led to Judd’s truck and as they pulled away from the hospital, his mind began to wander. Logically, he knew Carlos was in good hands, that leaving the hospital did nothing to hurt his chances. But not being there just felt wrong, as if he was tempting fate. As if his desperate hope could only have an effect from within the same building.

TK was so lost in his thoughts he didn’t notice how close they were to their destination until the truck came to a halt outside of the condo. He froze as he looked at it, the thought of stepping foot inside their shared home without Carlos washing over him. He knew he was being too quiet, he knew that the other two had noticed that something was wrong. Judd eyed him in the rearview mirror.

“Is this okay?” he asked. “I can bring you to your dad’s if you’d rather, but I figured all your stuff is here so…”

“No,” TK said, voice too soft. “No,” he tried again, voice a little more sure this time, “you’re right Judd, all my stuff is here. It’s fine, really. Thanks for driving me.”

“Yeah, we’re not just going to leave you,” Paul told him, pushing open the passenger side door and climbing out, “we’re staying with you to make sure you actually do the things covered in our bargain. Plus,” he added in a gentler tone as he opened TK’s door and met his eyes, “you don’t need to be alone right now.”

TK swallowed and nodded. He slid out of the truck without a word, crossing to the front door and pulling his keys out of his pocket. He inserted his key into the door with trembling hands and pushed it open, holding it open behind him for Judd and Paul. Once they were all inside he shut it behind them, the sound of the lock clicking into place the only sound. They stood in silence as TK looked around, trying to take in the once familiar surroundings that now felt so foreign. The clutter of day to day life was scattered throughout the living space, left waiting for them to return home and resume their lives. It was a cruel reminder of just how sudden this had been; of how much they stood to lose.

Paul gave him a gentle shove towards the stairs, interrupting his reverie, “Go and get showered and changed, we’ll work on the food. Come back down when you’re ready.”

TK nodded and ascended the stairs without a word. He entered their bedroom without really looking at anything, making a beeline for the dresser so as to avoid the sight of the haphazardly made bed; left rumpled when they had both decided on a late start the previous morning, abandoning their usual morning routine in favor of other pursuits. He grabbed the first pants and hoodie he found, pulling them out and heading to the bathroom without even a glance at the garments in his hand.

Several minutes later he was forced to admit that the hot water felt good. It revived him in a way the restless sleep at Carlos’s bedside hadn’t, and it allowed him to peel back the layers of everything to find some of the positives. Namely that Carlos had survived surgery, that while he wasn’t out of the woods there had been no changes for the worst (or for the better, but a hot shower was a place for optimism.)

He stepped out feeling renewed. As he reached for his towel he reminded himself that it hadn’t even been 36 hours. In the grand scheme of things, that was practically nothing. For injuries like those, it was perfectly normal. There was no reason to expect the worst, not yet.

He pulled on the clothes he had grabbed, soft joggers and one of Carlos’s APD hoodies that he had claimed as his own months ago and tried to keep focusing on the positives, but his optimism faded along with the lingering warmth of the shower. Maybe the worst hadn’t happened and he was certainly grateful for that, but where they were was a world away from “good.”

He made his way down the stairs, turning the corner to find Judd and Paul in quiet conversation in the kitchen. They looked up when he appeared, Judd answering the question on his lips before he could even ask it: “No, no updates from the other two. Seems like all’s quiet there.”

TK nodded gratefully and slid into the seat across from them. Judd slid a bowl of something that TK knew objectively should smell amazing in front of him, but all he could do was stare at it.

“Thank you, but…”

“No,” Judd cut him off firmly, “you need to eat. Unless you want to be the one to tell my wife that you wouldn’t eat the food she sent over for you?”

TK sighed and picked up the fork pointedly taking a bite, and Judd huffed out a laugh, “Smart choice.”

The other two returned to their own bowls and they ate in companionable silence. TK appreciated their understanding. He was beyond grateful to his friends for everything, but even the thought of any conversation right in this moment felt like torture. The only thoughts he could manage right now were of Carlos, and the checklist of tasks required by his team before he would be allowed to return.

He finished his food in silence, getting up and crossing to the sink to rinse it out and place it in the dishwasher. He had just reached the sink when a hand stopped him, taking the bowl from his grasp.

“I’ve got this,” Judd told him, “you need sleep.”

“4 hours,” Paul reminded him from the counter, “in a bed.”

“If there are any updates…”

“We’ll let you know,” Paul assured him.

TK swallowed and nodded, turning and heading back upstairs with a soft thanks. He entered their bedroom again, this time unable to ignore the queen-sized elephant in the room. He lowered himself onto his side of the bed, muscle memory guiding him to lay on his left side, giving him a full view of Carlos’s empty pillow.

The sight of him hit him harder than anything else and suddenly he felt as if walls were closing in around him. All the feelings he had been pushing back, holding at bay so he didn’t fall apart at the wrong moment breached his tenuous barriers. The catalyst grew harder to see as his vision was clouded with tears. He rolled over, turning his back to the reminder as his body shook with sobs too long repressed. He let 36 hours of pain and fear and panic out as he lay in their bed, hoping desperately that the aching emptiness beside him did not become his new reality.

Eventually, he drifted off into a fitful sleep; head resting on his tear-soaked pillow and clinging to the desperate hope that when he woke up, things would look better.

————-

Things didn’t look much better when he woke up, but his head did feel a little clearer.

He woke with a jolt at the sensation of someone lightly shaking him. He sat up quickly to find Paul standing next to him, hands raised in a placating manner, “Easy man, it’s just me.”

TK could feel fear creeping through his mind. If Paul was waking him up then…

“What happened?” he choked out. He knew he shouldn’t have left. He should have fought them more, he should have insisted on staying, no matter what.

“Nothing,” Paul assured him, voice even and soothing, “everything’s fine. It’s just been a bit over 4 hours and while personally, I would love to let you sleep longer I figured it was only fair to wake you up and let you decide. There are no new updates and no one is going to judge you for taking the time to get a little more sleep.”

TK took a shuddering breath, willing his heart rate to go back to normal. He shook his head and pulled himself out of the bed, “No, I should be getting back. Thank you though,” he added to Paul, “for waking me up, for everything, really.”

“Of course man. We meant what we said: we’re here for you. I can’t imagine how hard this is, especially given everything, but you’re not alone in this. Don’t forget that. We all care about Carlos too, and we care about you.”

TK looked down, not sure quite how to respond to that. Thankfully, Paul knew him well. His friend put a hand on his shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze. TK looked up and gave him a smile that Paul returned, “Take some time to get ready, Judd and I will be ready to leave when you are.”

He nodded again and watched as Paul stepped out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him. He then took a breath to steady himself before he surveyed the room, actually thinking about what he might need this time around. He grabbed his phone charger and shoved it into his pocket but couldn’t think of anything else he might need. All he could think about was getting back to the hospital as soon as possible. He met the other two downstairs and at his nod they head out without a word, TK only pausing on the threshold for a moment as he glanced back at the empty condo. Soon he would be coming back here, with Carlos. He was sure of it; no other option was acceptable.

He shut the door behind him, turning his key in the lock until he heard the telltale click, and climbed into Judd’s truck for a silent ride to the hospital. When they arrived, he went to climb out but was stopped by Judd’s voice as the older man turned to look at him from the driver’s seat.

“I know you’re worried about him brother,” he said softly. “I can’t even imagine what it must feel like and what a mess I would be if it were Grace, but you still need to take care of yourself, remember that.”

TK swallowed down the emotions that rose up as he met Judd’s eyes.There was so much understanding in them and he knew that the other man knew what he was going through more than most. He gave him a nod, and a promise: “I’ll try.”

Judd nodded in satisfaction and TK climbed the rest of the way out of the backseat, giving his two friends a wave before he stepped out and headed back inside. He immediately headed to the nurses’ station and was about to ask for Becky when a familiar voice sounded behind him.

“TJ? What are you doing back here.”

TK froze at the sound of Mrs. Reyes’s voice. “Hi, Mrs. Reyes,” he began, “I was just checking in to see how Carlos was doing.”

The older woman’s expression softened and she reached out a hand to lay on his arm, “You are such a good person, my son is so lucky to have you as a friend.”

TK swallowed down the bile at the word, at the reminder of why he couldn’t be in there with Carlos. “How is he?” he managed to ask in a normal tone, “Has there been any change?”

Mrs. Reyes shook her head sadly, “No, but the doctors say that is to be expected right now. They say that if things remain as they are they will likely start weaning him off the sedation soon, so I guess that’s a good sign.”

“It is, he assured her, because despite everything she looked worried and he didn’t want her to suffer. “It’s a very good sign. Normal means that nothing is wrong, that things are healing. Paramedic,” he reminded her with a shrug when she shot him a curious glance, “I’m no doctor but I do know a decent amount about traumatic injuries.”

She smiled at him and squeezed his arm, “And I am so glad my Carlitos had someone like you working on him. I know it couldn’t have been easy to see someone you care about hurt like that but you helped to give him a fighting chance. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for that.”

“No thanks needed,” he told her softly, “it’s my job.”

“Still,” she insisted, pulling him into a hug. “I am so glad you are my son’s friend. He deserves wonderful people like you in his life.”

TK stiffened in the hug, her words hitting wounds she didn’t even know existed. He cleared his throat as he gently pulled away. “Thank you for the update,” he told her, “I appreciate it.”

She nodded, “Would you like to come sit with him for a bit? We don’t mind, there is plenty of room.”

The thought of being so close to Carlos but not being able to hold him, of having to stay distant so as not to blow their secret in front of his parents was too much. He was certain he wasn’t strong enough for that.

“Thank you,” he told her, “but I should get going. I don’t want to intrude and I just wanted to see how he was doing.”

“Of course,” she told him warmly, “but if you change your mind, feel free to stop by.”

He nodded and with one last hug she let him go and he stepped away, heading towards the doors. He didn’t know where he was going, there was nowhere else for him to go. He needed to be here, but he couldn’t be in there with them. He couldn’t be so close without revealing their relationship and he refused to do that to Carlos.

He stepped outside into the late afternoon sunlight, trying to decide what to do next. Trying to tamp down on the tears threatening to rise. It was too much. He had thought he was strong enough to handle this but he wasn’t. He couldn’t do this.

“TK?”

His name, said like a question from a familiar voice, caused him to turn to see Marjan heading towards him, a tray of coffees in her hand and a frown on her face.

“Hey Marj,” he said, hoping his voice sounded normal. Judging by the look on her face, he failed.

“What happened? Paul said you just got back. Is there any news? Mateo and I have been keeping an eye out but we didn’t see…”

“No,” he assured her, “no, you didn’t miss anything. Things are still fine. I just…” he trailed off, took a breath and started again. “I just ran into Carlos’s mother. She was very pleasant; offered to let me sit in the room with them. Told me what a good friend I was to her son.”

Marjan’s face dropped, “TK,” she said softly, but any response he could have given was swallowed by the tears he couldn’t stop. He thought he had gotten them all out a few hours ago as he lay in their bed, but clearly he was wrong. There were still plenty more. He felt arms wrap around him as Marjan pulled him into a hug, simply holding him as he cried.

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

TK was thumbing through the book Paul left him when Becky approached him. His heart was immediately in his throat and he was about to ask her what was wrong when he noticed that she was grinning.

“He’s awake,” she informed him, “has been for a little bit now. The doctors are running some tests right now so his parents have stepped out, but they should be done shortly, if you want to go see him.”

“Yes,” TK said immediately, “of course. Thank you.”

Becky gave him a warm smile, “It’s the least I could do. I do love a happy ending, after all. Give it about 5 minutes and then the doctors should be done.”

TK nodded, hardly daring to believe that this was real. Carlos was awake. He was okay. “Thank you,” he called out to Becky again as she walked away, “really.”

She gave him another smile before she disappeared around the corner and he was left to wait. He pulled out his phone to send a quick update in the group chat: Carlos was awake and he’d give them more details when he had them. There was a flurry of enthusiastic responses and well wishes before TK realized the 5 minutes were almost up and pulled himself out of his seat, heading towards Carlos.

He crossed to the door almost hesitantly, not quite able to shake the fear that maybe Becky had been wrong, that maybe he was somehow imagining this whole thing. But when he stepped inside and was met with a warm, exhausted gaze from familiar brown eyes, he almost staggered in relief.

“Carlos,” TK breathed and the weak, tired smile he received in return was without a doubt the best sight he had seen in days.

“What are you doing way over there?” Carlos asked him and TK was across the room in an instant, skidding to a halt at Carlos’s beside and placing a tender kiss to the top of his head. He blinked away the tears threatening to fall as he studied Carlos. There was so much he wanted to say to him, so much he needed to say. He just wasn’t sure where to start.

“Hi,” he settled on, and winced. As bedside greetings after a traumatic injury went, it wasn’t a good one.

Thankfully, Carlos chuckled, “Hi to you too. How are you doing?”

“Me?” TK asked incredulously, “Carlos, I’m not the one who nearly died.”

“No,” Carlos agreed, voice growing more serious as he studied him, “but my mom spent some time going on about how my friend ‘TJ’ saved my life. If that had been me and it had been you, I don’t think I would be okay.”

TK shook his head, “Can’t you just worry about yourself for once like a normal person,” he gripped, but there was no heat in his words. Carlos raised an eyebrow at him before he sighed. “It’s been rough,” he admitted, “it wasn’t easy and definitely not an experience I am ever looking to relive, but if it meant saving you I would do it a thousand more times.” He held Carlos’s gaze for several long moments in the wake of his words, making sure that his boyfriend understood just how much he meant it. Any amount of pain or suffering on his own part was acceptable long as Carlos was alive and well at the end of it all.

“But you’re awake now and you’re going to be okay,” he concluded after some time, “nothing else matters.”

“From what I’ve heard, there might be one more thing that matters.” At TK’s questioning look he explained, “My parents. They referred to you as my friend. Did you…?”

He trailed off but TK shook his head vigorously, “No,” he said firmly, “of course not. I promised you you could tell them on your own terms, that I was fine with being the friend as long as it took. I meant that.”

“Ty,” Carlos said softly, squeezing their linked hands and giving him a sad look, “babe. You could have said something. I wouldn’t have been mad. Thinking about you going through this by yourself is worse than any possibility of my parents’ reaction.”

“I wasn’t by myself,” he reminded Carlos, “I had my team. Our friends. I was never alone in this.”

“Remind me to thank them.”

“Oh don’t worry,” TK quipped lightly, leaning into this new topic in an effort to leave talk of his parents and the endless waiting behind, “I am sure they will be here the moment you are allowed more visitors.”

Carlos laughed lightly until he broke off with a grimace of pain. TK leaned forward anxiously, “Are you okay? Does it hurt too badly? Should I get a nurse? Do you--”

“Ty,” Carlos said firmly, “it’s okay. I’m okay. I just jostled things a bit, stop worrying.”

“I don’t think you are ever going to make that possible, Carlos Reyes.”

“Look who’s talking.”

TK opened his mouth to fire a response back but any retort he may have made was interrupted by the arrival of Andrea and Gabriel Reyes in the doorway. TK froze and went to pull his hand out of Carlos’s grasp, but Carlos held tight.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Uh, out of here?” TK answered, though it came out more like a question, “To give you some time with your parents?”

Carlos shook his head, “You’re not going anywhere. You belong here.” He turned to his parents, who were watching with curious gazes from the doorway, “Mom, Dad, there’s something I need to tell you.”

TK leaned in closer, voice low in Carlos’s ear, “Maybe waking up from a medically induced coma is not the time for major life decisions, babe. You don’t have to do this now.”

Carlos turned his head to meet TK’s dubious expression with his own, “If not now, when? You said it yourself: nothing ever stays the same.”

“Are you sure?”

Carlos smiled at him and squeezed their still intertwined hands, “Yeah, I am.”

He turned his gaze back to his parents, who were watching the proceedings curiously, “I know you’ve already met TK,” he told them, “and I told you he was a friend from work. But I lied to you, he is so much more than that. I’d like you to formally meet my boyfriend, TK Strand.”

TK anxiously watched their reactions only to see that while there were many emotions playing out on the Reyes’ faces, surprise was not amongst them.

“You knew,” he blurts out, unable to help himself.

Gabriel Reyes shrugged, “We were pretty sure after we met y’all at the market, but when you didn’t say anything when we got here we weren’t so sure and we didn’t want to press,” he began. “But seeing how worried you were, and how often you were here, I figured there was something we didn’t know. Plus, you’re wearing his shirt.”

TK looked down at the old APD sweatshirt he barely remembered grabbing on his trip home sheepishly and he could feel Carlos laughing light beside him.

“Why didn’t you say something?” Andrea asked him, eyes wide with sympathy, “All that time you spent waiting by yourself…”

“I made Carlos a promise,” he said simply, squeezing his boyfriend’s hand even as he spoke to his parents. “I promised him he could tell you on his own terms in his own time, and I would never break a promise I made to him for anything.”

The next thing he knew Andrea’s arms were around him again, squeezing him in a bone crushing hug. He nearly staggered back from the force of it, shooting a bewildered look over her shoulder to Carlos, who is smiling fondly at them.

“I was hoping we were right,” she told him softly, “all that time you were, how deeply you cared for him. I am so glad we were, and so happy that my son has someone to love him as much as you do.”

She pulled away to give him a teary smile that he returned. Gabriel stepped forward to wrap an arm around his wife’s shoulder and lean forward to offer TK an outstretched hand.

“It’s a pleasure to properly meet you, TK,” he said warmly. TK smiled at him before taking the offered hand.

“Likewise, sir.”

They ended the handshake and TK looked back to Carlos to see him beaming at him. He shifted over in his bed to make room for TK to perch on the edge beside him. TK did, happily, readjusting the grip of their joined hands so they could rest comfortably in Carlos’s lap.

“I always knew they would like you,” Carlos told him with a grin, raising an eyebrow at his parents, “but I didn’t know what detectives they were.”

“I am a Texas Ranger son,” Gabriel deadpanned, “in case you have forgotten.”

Carlos rolled his eyes at his father, earning him a lackluster admonishment from his mother and TK let the warmth of this moment settle around him. He could tell Carlos’s parents still had questions, he knew there would be some hard conversations to be had in the coming days. But for now they were all here together, and Carlos was okay. Their secret was out and TK didn’t have to hide the love he felt for this man for anyone ever again. He leaned over to press a soft kiss to the top of Carlos’s head, savoring the ability to do so and the way Carlos leaned into him in turn.

Things weren’t perfect but at this moment they were pretty close, and that was more than enough.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #my writing #userkimmy #userjilly #userac #usermaximus #userbones #tuserpaige #laeipoo #maizsnex #buckybarnesalways #immortalstrand #reyeslonestartag #hierophvnts

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