#911lsangstweek

[morganaspendragonss]

could you write about TK being upset at Owen and going to Judd for comfort? Please and thank you

though we don't share the same blood

thank you both for the wonderful prompts! i hope you enjoy what i can up with 😊

@911lonestarangstweek day 9 - free day!

thanks to @aliceschuyler for being a wonderful human and staying up to beta this for me 🥰🥰

title from brother by kodaline

ao3 | 2k | angst, emotional h/c, sad tk, big brother judd

One of the things Judd isn’t expecting when he hears his phone ping one morning is a text from Carlos asking him if he could head over to Owen’s place that afternoon. It’s not that he minds at all but, of the two of them, Judd would have thought that it would be TK reaching out to him. He’s barely exchanged two words with Carlos outside of work and while he likes the guy, they don’t exactly have a close relationship.

And, friendly and casual though Carlos’s message is, Judd knows he’s the last person Carlos would call on to hang with. Which means one thing—TK needs help, and he’s too stubborn to ask for it himself.

Judd is over at the Strand house in minutes, greeted by a bewildered Owen, who clearly didn’t know about Carlos’s request. This confuses him; if something were seriously wrong with TK, then Owen surely would be in on whatever this is, too. Still, Judd isn’t going to question it, so he just passes off his visit as wanting to talk to TK about something.

Owen takes the excuse with a shrug and waves Judd in the direction of the kitchen, before heading back to his office. What Judd is greeted with, when he rounds the corner, is a sight he’d never expected to see again in his life.

TK, pushing Carlos’s arm from round his shoulders and deliberately putting distance between them.

Judd watches as Carlos tries again, this time just a light brush of their knuckles, but again TK rebuffs him.

“Don’t touch me,” TK says, stiff as a board, though his tone seems more tired than angry. He bites his lip, staring hard at his hands for a moment, then sighs heavily and marches out of the room, leaving Carlos gazing despondently after him.

TK’s a hot-head, Judd knows this. They all saw what happened at the station the day of the fire, but Judd also knows that TK isn’t the type to make a repeat offence. More than that, Carlos isn’t the type to tolerate a repeat offence, and this interaction was so obviously different, but in what way, Judd can’t tell.

Whatever it is, it’s enough to send his concern rocketing to a peak. He knocks lightly on the doorframe to get Carlos’s attention, and raises a brow when their eyes meet. “Everything good with you two?” he asks. “Because I ain’t a marriage counsellor, Reyes.”

Carlos huffs a laugh and shakes his head, the tips of his ears turning pink. “We’re okay. It’s just…”

He trails off as voices drift down the hall, Owen’s and TK’s. Neither of them are being overly loud or snappy so Judd can’t tell exactly what they’re saying; still, the way Carlos sighs and looks at him clues him in to all he needs to know.

“Ah. I take it cohabitation is going well?”

Carlos snorts. “You don’t know the half of it. And it’s not… TK isn’t… Captain Strand…” He shakes his head, clearly at a loss, and Judd’s brows climb higher up his forehead.

“We’re back to Captain Strand now, huh? Things must be bad.”

“Not exactly,” Carlos hurries to say, but he cracks a wry smile at Judd’s disbelieving look. “Maybe. It’s not for lack of trying, though. Captain Strand is just… He’s so oblivious, like he has no idea what he’s doing, or even that he doesn’t really care, and I can’t let it keep happening anymore.”

“And…” Judd hesitates, carefully noting the tightness in Carlos’s jaw and the irritation flashing in his eyes. “What is he doing?”

Now it’s Carlos’s turn to hesitate as he looks Judd up and down. “Listen, I respect Captain Strand, of course I do, but—”

“The man can be insensitive and self-absorbed,” Judd finishes, laughing at Carlos’s startled expression. “What? I respect him too, but you have to know that I’m right. He’s intelligent, but he can be as thick as two planks of wood when it comes to other people, ‘specially if that other person is TK.”

Carlos lets out a relieved breath and sags, nodding. “Yeah. It’s just… Captain Strand is so focused on the firehouse that he doesn’t seem to care about anything else that’s going on. It hurts all of us, me and Mateo included, but TK is taking it the hardest. I think it’s bringing some stuff up for him.”

“What kind of stuff?”

It doesn’t seem possible that Carlos can look sadder, but, somehow, he manages it, shrugging helplessly. “He won’t talk to me about it. I’ve asked, but you know how TK is. He just keeps trying to pretend that he’s fine, and, Judd, he’s really good at doing that.”

“He’s had practice,” Judd surmises, and Carlos nods.

“Too much, and I know it’s something to do with Captain Strand. The thing is, I’m pretty sure that what’s going on now, TK is doing it to protect him. He’s frustrated with him, sure, but TK has spent so long trying to hide his feelings from Captain Strand that it’s kind of, I don’t know, instinctual now? And he’s doing it to protect me, too, I know he is. We really are good, I swear, but he gets overwhelmed sometimes and then he starts pushing me away to keep me from seeing it. That’s what was happening when you came in; he doesn’t like being touched when he’s riled up.”

“Huh.” Judd waits, expecting Carlos to say more, but when he doesn’t, he frowns. “I get all that, but I’m not sure I know what I’m doing here.”

“You’re the big brother he never had,” Carlos says, as though it’s obvious. “You might be able to get through to him in a way I never could.”

A part of Judd doubts that—personally, he’d much rather talk to Grace than any of his older brothers. But he owes it to TK, and to Carlos, to at least try. So he nods, and tries not to wince at the relief that fills Carlos’s entire body.

“Thank you, Judd,” he says, sounding far too earnest for Judd’s liking. “He’ll be out back.”

*

“Let me guess,” TK calls, even before Judd has made himself known. “Carlos sent you to talk to me.”

“He’s worried about you, kid.”

“He shouldn’t be. I’m fine.”

Judd snorts. “Yeah, save it. If you want to lie to your boyfriend then that’s your problem to sort out, but don’t try pulling that shit with me. It ain’t gonna work.” He eases himself down next to TK on the back porch, watching him closely. Buttercup’s head is in TK’s lap and he’s rhythmically stroking his fur, though he barely seems aware of the action.

Judd knows from experience that it’s better to let TK talk in his own time, so they just sit in silence for a long while, watching the movement of clouds across the sky. Judd has never been a fan of sitting still for long periods of time, but he forces himself to bear it this time, telling himself that it will pay off, eventually.

It must be around half an hour since he first walked out that TK finally sighs and shifts, his hands tightening slightly in Buttercup’s fur. “He won’t apologise.”

Judd raises a brow. “Who, the Cap?”

TK gives him a small nod, not looking up. “It’s just…” He bites his lip and shakes his head. “It’s dumb.”

“It ain’t dumb.”

This gets TK to look at him, surprise and disbelief written all over his expression. He scoffs, but Judd isn’t going to let this go that easily.

“It ain’t dumb,” he repeats, forcing TK to meet his eyes. “I’m guessing this is about the fire, huh?”

TK nods, then pauses a moment and shakes his head. “If I was just the fire, I could handle it,” he says quietly, and if that doesn’t break Judd’s heart, he doesn’t know what will. “Carlos and I almost died because of what he and Mr Reyes did, but they—they didn’t know what would happen, and at least Mr Reyes said he was sorry, and it’s not like I want my dad to feel guilty or anything, but—”

He breaks off and lets out a sharp laugh that sounds suspiciously wet. “Fuck. I sound like a kid again.”

“No—”

“Yes. I don’t know how, but my dad seems to have this ability to turn me into a seven-year old all over again. How does he still have this affect on me, Judd? I mean, I’m twenty-fucking-seven years old. It’s pathetic.”

“That’s a load of crap, and you know it.”

TK scoffs at him and turns away, but Judd has had enough of this, and maybe he understands now why Carlos called him. He’s not afraid to tell TK a few hard truths if he thinks it’s necessary, in a way that Carlos never could, partly because the guy’s just too damn nice even without being his boyfriend.

Not Judd, though.

“You have every right to be mad at your daddy right now, and I get the feeling that this is about more than the damn fire. I ain’t gonna sugar-coat it for you; he fucked up. I was there that night when he finally figured out it was you two Raymond was gunning for, and he admitted himself that he thought the firehouse was a diversion yet it still took a while for him to connect the most important thing in his life to you.

“In fact, it was almost Billy who worked it out for him. Bet you didn’t know that, huh? And I have to say, I’m a little mad at him for that, too, so I can’t imagine what you’re feeling. So this isn’t pathetic, but you know what is? You coming out here and moping instead of saying it to his face. You said it yourself, TK, you’re an adult; you’re not that snot-nosed seven-year old kid anymore, so maybe you need to start acting like an adult and stand up to him.”

Judd is breathing hard by the end of his speech, and he’s kind of proud of it. He thinks he’s made his point, but then TK just sighs and stares down at the ground, resignation on his face.

“You think I haven’t tried?” he asks, voice sounding heavier than it has any right to. “Last year after I got shot, I tried talking to him about how I felt after 9/11, but he blew me off. Of course I don’t want him to apologise for doing what he did, but I just want him to acknowledge that he wasn’t the father I needed him to be. But that’s never gonna happen, and, honestly? I’m not surprised he didn’t realise we were the target. That’s just how he is, and I’m done trying to change it. I’m tired, Judd.”

And Judd… Judd doesn’t know what to say. When TK and Owen first got to Austin, they always seemed so close; of course, since getting to know them, Judd has seen the cracks in their relationship, but he never…

That exhaustion in TK’s voice, in his face, in his entire being—Judd had never realised that things were that bad. He knows that nothing he can say will fix the way TK feels or will magically get Owen to apologise, and maybe there’s nothing anyone can do that won’t end in more resentment or guilt.

But Judd can be there for TK. He wraps an arm around his shoulders and tugs him close, gently kissing the top of his head.

“I’m sorry about all that,” he says, patting TK’s knee with his free hand. “But he ain’t the only family you’ve got now. You’ve got me, and you know I’ll always tell it to you straight, alright? And there’s Gracie, and the rest of the team, and that boy of yours in there is chomping at the bit to help you out.

“But you’ve gotta let us in. You keep bottling stuff up like this, it’s only gonna end ugly, so next time you feel bad, talk to one of us. Anyone. Don’t let your daddy’s actions ruin things for you.”

“Easier said than done,” TK says wryly, but his eyes shine with gratitude, and something that looks suspiciously like tears. “Thanks, Judd.”

“Anytime, kid.”

#911lsangstweek #911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #carlos reyes #tk strand #judd ryder #911ls #lone star #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #anonymous #tuserjenny #tuserpaige #tuserjamie #userjillian #userbones #reyeslonestartag #actuallysara

[bellakitse]

The one I can’t live without

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

Carlos does something reckless at work upsetting TK.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 ֎֎֎

 He doesn’t get to apologize.

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

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

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

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

‘I’ll call you.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I hold you?” he questions nervously.

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

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

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

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

#911 lone star #tarlos #911 lone star fic #tarlos fic #911lsangstweek #tk x carlos #my writing

[911lonestarangstweek]

Welcome to Round 2 of 911 Lone Star Angst Week September 11th-19th, 2021*

*Yes, you read correctly, this second round will actually be 9 (NINE) days... so, 911 Lone Star Angst Week-and-a-half? This just allows for more flexibility with prompts and as per usual events, you are under no obligation to post for everyday (but if you do, that’s incredible).

Here are the prompts for this edition of Angst Week:

September 11 (Day 1) - “C” ex: calm, cold, care, cauterize, cane, car, cat, choke, chronic, coma, concussion, cough, cpr, crash, crutches, cast, captive, caught, cave, chain, cramp, cry

September 12 (Day 2) - “G” ex: game, guess, gone, grow, garden, grief, gas, grab, gagged, ghost, ground, gun, guilt

September 13 (Day 3) - “J” ex: jail, jaw, jealous, joint, jam

September 14 (Day 4) - “M” ex: mist, mark, melt, memory, motion, mugging, mind, mcd, missing, mouth, mob, mcl, move, mourning, migraine, malfunction, medicine, mistake, misunderstand, mask, mute, mission

September 15 (Day 5) - “N” ex: nose, neck, no, natural, near, neglect, nerve, nervous, nightmare

September 16 (Day 6) - “O” ex: open, other, out, off, over, old, operation, organ, od

September 17 (Day 7) - “P” ex: puncture, pull, pop, promise, push, pain, punish, possession, pity, phobia, poisoning, plague, prisoner, patient, position, pole, panic, paralysis, paranoid, parasite, pass, pin, plead, pneumonia

September 18 (Day 8) - “T” ex: tear, trauma, throat, torture, turn, trouble, time, temper, trap, touch, thief, tamper, transform, teeth, treatment, table, team, taunt, terminal, throw, tied, tonsillitis, toxic, trail, trust, twist

September 19 (Day 9) - free day! write whatever your angsty heart desires for whatever letter!

See below the cut for more info and some faqs!

Why do the prompts look different this time?

The change in the way we are doing is prompts was actually the reasoning behind why we extending the event by two days. Instead of the traditional dialogue prompt + trope, we are using letters to provide more flexibility with angst tropes. In other words, last time the admins struggled to find a balance between all the different forms of angst and catering it to everyone’s preferences. Doing it this way allows for participants to create something for any prompt and make it work for them. Write 9 days of sickfics, or 9 days of hardcore whump, or 9 days of emotional angst! Or mix it up and write a little for each. Whatever suits your preferences, make it work for you!

Why those letters?

As fun as it would be to do a 26 day long event for all letters in the English Alphabet (okay, it was considered), we had to narrow it down somehow. There are 11 main characters on 911 Lone Star, and their first names start with 8 different letters (+ the 1 free day). AKA why this a 9 day event, not 7, so we could use all characters. “C” for Carlos, “G” for Grace, “J” for Judd, etc;

The important thing to note is that just because a day’s letter is named after that character, you do not have to write a fic about that day’s character. Write all fics about Tarlos. Write some fics about Tarlos, some fics about Paul, and some fics about Tommy. This event is about whatever angst YOU want to write. The only rule is that your fic centers around a word that starts with that days letter.

Do we have to use the examples or can we pick something else?

Absolutely not! The examples are just to get the gears going and if you come up with another idea that starts with that letter, feel free to use that!

What about content creators?

We encourage all forms of content to be submitted for the event, not just writing! Though we know how difficult that is for events like this.

Last time we set aside a day for each character (with some doubled up) and asked content creators to show us an angsty moment for that character. This time with the prompts already vague, revolving around one letter, we welcome you to use that letter to choose which moment to show us. For example, day 1 you could use the word “car” and gif Judd and Grace’s car accident, or “cry” and draw one of the vulnerable tarlos moments.

If you have any ideas for how to better cater this event for content creators, please reach out and let us know!

What hashtags do we use? Is there and ao3 collection? Other information about posting?

Okay, you’re getting ahead of us here. We just wanted to get the basic info out now so people can begin working on their submissions if they would like! Closer to the event, we will post some reminders that will include the information you need to post (but short answer: tag will probably be the same as before and there will be ao3 collection)

Any other questions?

Send us an ask, or message @silvarafael or @marjansmarwani privately and we will do our best to answer. Thanks!

#911lsangstweek #fandom event #announcement #admin post #911 lone star #boost

[marjansmarwani]

In the midnight hour, we came alive

3.3k || ao3 

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

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

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

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

Beta’d by @silvarafael

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Carlos shrugged, “He is awfully cute.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m fine.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----------

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

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

The voice was soft and familiar. “TK?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that so?” 

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

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

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

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

-----------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos fic #tarlos #911lsangstweek #carlos reyes #bthb #tk strand #my writing #userkimmy #userac #userjilly #usermaximus #userbones #jazzyjess #tuserpaige #maizsnex #hierophvnts #buckybarnesalways #reyeslonestartag #laelipoo #immortalstrand

[kiras-sunshine]

give me the burden, give me the blame

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

g is for guilt

words: 4.3k

summary:

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

read on ao3

#tarlos #tarlos fic #911lonestarangstweek #carlos reyes x tk strand #my love hate relationship with 2x12 made me write this #my writing #911lsangstweek

[reyesstrand]

pink skies will keep me warm

tarlos + carlos’ family / teen+ / 2.1k

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

@911lonestarangstweek day seven: free choice

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

"I'm impressed, Strand."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

READ THE REST ON AO3!!

#tarlos #911 lone star #tarlos fic #911lsangstweek #my fic

[benjaminrussell]

911 Lone Star Angst Week Masterpost

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

For full tags etc, see AO3.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#911lsfic #911lsangstweek #tk strand #carlos reyes #judd ryder #grace ryder #nancy gillian #marjan marwani #mateo chavez #paul strickland #tommy vega #911 lone star

[ao3theskyisblue]

We are lost (and we’re falling)

Summary:

His words had come out cold, short, and he knew Carlos didn’t need to be a cop to hear the bite in his tone.

The sound of the front door closing echoed loudly in the silence that followed, and he knew Carlos saw what he was looking at the second he heard a sharp inhale.

A sound of a bag dropping to the floor. Keys being returned to their rightful spot. Slow footsteps moving closer, but TK didn’t take his eyes off the offending piece of paper, glaring holes through the thin material holding insurmountable value.

“TK-”

“When.”

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

Read on AO3 

“When were you going to tell me?”

TK didn’t get up from his spot on the couch, stock still since he found a certain piece of paper reciting words he wasn’t sure he had read correctly for the 10th time that night. So, he sat, staring blankly at the muddled words on paper, waiting for his husband to come home to get the answers to his innumerable questions.

His words had come out cold, short, and he knew Carlos didn’t need to be a cop to hear the bite in his tone.

The sound of the front door closing echoed loudly in the silence that followed, and he knew Carlos saw what he was looking at the second he heard a sharp inhale.

A sound of a bag dropping to the floor. Keys being returned to their rightful spot. Slow footsteps moving closer, but TK didn’t take his eyes off the offending piece of paper, glaring holes through the thin material holding insurmountable value.

“TK-”

“When.”

TK looked up sharply, and felt his chest tighten at the way Carlos stepped back slightly. But they were going to have this conversation, because he had gone through the various stages of shock, disbelief, fear, anger, and now…nothing.

He wanted to understand.

“A few days before our one-year anniversary.” Carlos said quietly, and TK clenched his jaw, lifting a hand to run through his hair roughly.

“Our one-year anniversary when we were dating, or when we got married?” TK knew the answer to that when he saw Carlos tense, letting out a hollow laugh.

“Were you just never planning on telling me? Until what, I find out myself eventually? When it would already be too late?” TK bit down on his lower lip, hard, tasting the bitter tang of blood as his teeth broke skin. It wasn’t nearly enough to distract him from all this. He could see from the corner of his eyes as Carlos slowly took a seat on the ottoman in front of him, but still keeping a semblance of distance.

“I promise, I was going to tell you,” Carlos’ voice was still quiet, as if he knew the moment one of them raised their voices, it would only further escalate the conversation. “I just never found the right time.”

The right time.

TK couldn’t help a scoff at that, standing up sharply from his spot on the couch to pace the wooden floors of their living room, his steps arrhythmic.

“Tyler-”

TK let out an ugly sound, shooting Carlos a glare that could cut through glass.

“Don’t you dare. I am not in the mood to hear my name right now, especially when you decided to put it in a place where I absolutely object to.” He tore his gaze away from the coffee table, hands clenched tightly by his sides.

“How do we fix this?”

“Oh, so now it’s we?”

“TK-”

“No. I can’t–I can’t do this right now.” TK abruptly stopped his pacing only to violently slam his palms down on the kitchen counter, the skin of his palms stinging with a certain pain he couldn’t feel over the bleeding wounds of his heart. He could feel the tears burning like acid in his eyes, knowing that they could spill at any fueling word.

“Sweetheart,”

Clenching his fingers inwards towards his palms, he felt his nails digging against the soft skin, no doubt leaving deep crescent indentations in their wake.

“TK, look at me.”

The sound that ripped out of his throat was immediately covered with his hand, and TK furiously blinked back the onslaught of tears. He felt a gentle hand on his bicep, and forced himself to take in a few shuddering breaths before turning around, facing his husband. Carlos’ own eyes were red-rimmed, but he still had a small, albeit sad smile on his lips.

“Talk to me.” Carlos’ grip on his arm tightened, and TK swallowed back the sob that wanted to break free, instead taking in another deep breath and closing his eyes.  

He could feel the anguish filling up the room in suffocating waves, but he had already found it hard to breathe the second he had accidentally found the will. His name was printed neatly underneath a paragraph of writing, taunting him.

TK stares at the space between them, knowing that there was a hand on his arm, but not quite feeling it.

He couldn’t really name anything he was feeling right now.

“You have no idea what you’re asking.”

The words came out quiet, subdued, and TK wasn’t sure if Carlos even heard him. But then there was a warm hand trailing up his arm, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“You’re my partner. My better half, the love of my life,” Carlos stresses, as if that would somehow alleviate the pain currently tearing him to shreds. “There is no one else I trust with this more than you.”

A hot wave of fury washed over him. TK stepped back from the gentle hold to level a glare at the man standing before him, who looked stricken. TK hardly ever pulled away from Carlos’ touches, feeling a pit growing in his stomach at the hurt in his husband’s gaze.

“You-you have no idea-”

“I trust you-”

“I don’t trust myself, Carlos!”

TK felt the man in front of him reel back at that, but still refused to lift his gaze. He knew what he would see – concern, confusion, but what he couldn’t bear to see was the ever-present softness that never disappeared no matter how bad their arguments got.

Swallowing thickly, TK twisted the gold wedding band around his finger. Ever since the day they promised each other forever, the ring had become one of his grounding sources. Not stopping his administrations, TK tried for a smile which only turned into a grimace.  

“You are asking me to be the bridge between your life and death,” He started, clenching his jaw at the last part. “A single word, a signature, and I have the power to take your life. Don’t you dare make it seem like this is an easy decision for me, you don’t get to do that.” TK waved a hand towards the papers scattered on the coffee table, hearing Carlos suck in a sharp breath.

The ticking of the kitchen clock sounded louder than he remembered, and he tried to focus on the rhythmic ticking to try and calm his racing heartbeat.

It wasn’t working.

Carlos didn’t move closer, but his next words hit him like a bucket of ice water.

“You think I don’t know you put my name down for yours?”

The words weren’t accusing, nor were they harsh. Instead, they were stated as a fact, something TK couldn’t deny.  

That didn’t mean it was the same thing.

“That’s different.” He says icily, but Carlos didn’t so much as flinch. His gaze never wavered.

“How so? From where I’m standing, you and I seem to be thinking the same thing.” One thing he’s found to be a little frustrating and also endearing was how logical Carlos was with his arguments. TK didn’t know whether it was something that came from working in law enforcement, but he found it hard to argue with reason.

They didn’t fight often, but when they did, it was a brief fuel to the fire, something that both of them knew that would be worked out in the end and that at the end of the day, they were just two men who fiercely loved each other.

“Because you-” TK trailed off, the sudden heaviness of his thoughts weighing him down like lead. Carlos frowned.

“Because I’m…?”  

There were a few beats where they just stared at each other. TK could see that Carlos was itching to reach out towards him, but he knew that he had to be the first one to close the distance between them.

He wasn’t ready.

“When people leave, they take pieces.”  

His dad took the first piece. It had been a small piece, but a piece, nonetheless. Something he couldn’t grasp – just watching from a distance as it slipped through his fingers.

His mom took the next piece, and a 7-year-old’s memories were surprisingly vivid. He still remembered the colour of the moving truck parked outside their house, the sound of the spluttering engine as it came to life, the look on his neighbours’ faces as they not-so-subtly watched through the window as his parents argued.

The pieces kept chipping away as the years went by. His stepmom. Enzo. Every new friend he made and grew to never speak to again, his first overdose, the dinner with Alex.  

All those pieces left scars that he learned to bear better with time, but they never fully healed. He would never completely get those pieces back, but building himself to always strive for a better life created new ones he could nurture and protect.

And the person who carried the biggest piece of all, was the man standing right in front of him.

TK closed his eyes, knowing that Carlos could see the tremble of his lips as he tried to swallow down the lump in his throat. “You have all of me. If I have to watch you-if I’m the reason you leave this world-” A single tear slipped down his cheeks, and he quickly lifted a hand to wipe it away roughly. “I won’t be able to let you go Carlos, don’t ask me to.”

Carlos remained silent. TK didn’t know how long they had been standing in the little area between the living room and the kitchen, but from the way one of his knees had locked, the dull ache pulsating through his leg in waves, it must have been a while.

He still couldn’t bring himself to sit down.

“You think it’s easy for me to think about letting you go?”

There was a sharp intake of breath, and TK warily lifted his gaze from the floor to Carlos’ eyes, which were filled with ripples of love and pain. He took a small step forward, but nothing more than that.

“Because let me tell you, it would be the single hardest decision in my entire life.” He says shakily, and TK feels his heart shatter at the tears that broke free. This wasn’t the first time, nor would it be the last that he would see Carlos cry, but it never changed the fact that every time he did, something in him died a little with every tear that slipped down his cheeks.

He hadn’t realized his hands were trembling until he lifted them to gently cup Carlos’ face, thumbs slowly moving to delicately wipe the tears away. Two warm hands covered his own, and TK leaned up to press his lips gently to Carlos’ forehead. The hands covering his tightened when he leaned back.  

“I thought the single hardest decision were those adoption papers we filed a few months ago.” TK says lightly, feeling the first genuine smile grace his lips since the start of all this when Carlos let out a wet chuckle.

No matter how many years have passed, TK feels himself melting all over again at the signature warmth in Carlos’ gaze that was surely mirrored in his own as they looked at each other.

“They’re on different meters.” Carlos responds, and TK’s eyes crinkle at the sides. His hands move to his hips, pulling him in closer.

“We can’t see the future,” Carlos says softly, and TK’s smile dims. “There will be many more uncertainties down the road, obstacles we’ll face. But I’m sure, with every fiber of my being, that I want to face them with you– to be the one to hold your hand until the end.”

TK forcefully swallows past the bitter tang in his throat.

The words wash over him in a dizzying warmth. Death was inescapable, and a constant presence in both their lines of work. It was one of the reasons they treasured every minute they got with each other, never knowing when their clocks would abruptly stop. And although the mere thought of the possibility of Carlos leaving his world tore him raw and hung him dry, he knew that if it truly came to that, he would want the exact same thing.

For better or for worse.

Lifting a hand to run through Carlos’ curls fondly, his other hand drifted to his pulse point, feeling the rhythmic pulsing against his fingers.

“I love you.” TK says instead, pulling Carlos into a tight hug that was returned with equal fervor without hesitation.

“I know. And I love you.” Carlos murmured, tightening his arms around him. TK closed his eyes, pressing his face into the slightly rough material of his husband’s uniform, absently remembering that he hadn’t gotten a chance to change when he got home.

Pressing a kiss to Carlos’ shoulder, TK looked up to see brown eyes already looking at him affectionately. He slowly trails a hand down his husband’s arm, smiling at the trail of goosebumps left behind in their wake.

“I’m never letting go of your hand,” TK whispers, his hand having travelled down to intertwine with Carlos’, lifting it up to press a lingering kiss to the back of it. He stares at the ridges and scars with teary eyes, every indentation – every mark ingrained into his mind.

“I’m going to hold onto you for a long, long time.”  

#Tarlos #Tarlos fic #911lsangstweek

[moviegeek03]

Anywhere Away from Here (Tarlos fic 1/?)

Summary: TK had learned to deal with it. It had been nearly 20 years. 20 years of pain, trauma, hiding it. All of it. But maybe, he was ready to share his story with Carlos. To let him in on what really happened to him on 9/11.

So I've been bouncing around the idea of doing an AU of some form for awhile, and @firefighterreyes kind of encouraged this (among others lol). I wanted to created a chronic pain AU, and just kind of thought of the idea of TK being hurt on 9/11. This is obviously taking some liberties as I know things like this didn't really happen that day. Feedback is much appreciated. Special thanks to @lire-casander, @alilypea, @mtnofgrace, and @marjansmarwani for feedback on it while I was working on it this weekend.

And since it's @911lonestarangstweek, posting for day 3's prompt of "j" for jabbing (pain).

#911lsangstweek #tarlos #tk strand #carlos reyes #Tarlos fic #911 lone star fic #911 lone star #tk strand x carlos reyes #carlos reyes x tk strand #whump fic #hurt tk strand #angst fic #moviegeek03 fanfiction #owen strand

[ravens-words]

the only one I love

Written for @911lonestarangstweek Day 6: Off the job injury + “You’ve got to be more careful.”

For@noxsoulmate who asked for Alex comes back fic+ "So TK has accidentally made it onto the news ... maybe the kidnapping thing was bigger than we noticed in the show? Anyway, he's on national TV - which is how Alex finds out where he now lives and since things with Mitchell didn't end well, he is now in Austin, trying to get TK back"

Thank you @tkstrrand for being my sounding board on this 🖤

I hope I delivered 🖤

"You're not gonna mope all night, are you, man?"

TK rolled his eyes and shoved Paul non too gently.

"No, seriously!" Paul shouted over the music as they walked through the sea of bodies to get to the bar. "I know you miss your boy, but you're my wingman."

TK grinned. "Don't worry, Paul. We're getting you laid tonight."

The club was packed with people, so much so that the trip from the door to the bar took them ten minutes. Paul was basically vibrating as he looked towards the dance floor and TK rolled his eyes playfully and pushed him in that direction. "Go," he told him loudly. "I'll order the drinks and follow."

Paul grinned, clapped him on the shoulder, and took off.

He looked down at his phone and smiled widely when he saw the text from Carlos. He was about to open it when he felt a hand on his arm, and he rolled his eyes inwardly. He turned around, ready to fake a smile and politely reject whoever it was, when he came face to face with someone he honestly never thought he'd see. 

"Alex?"

Continue on AO3

#911lsangstweek #tk strand #carlos reyes #tarlos #tarlos fic #ejwritestarlos

[detectivecarlosreyes]

Keeping the line open 

Ao3 | 3.2k | Rated: Gen | Tarlos 

Summary  Carlos hated this. Hated how he made TK feel. Hated how he felt himself. It was eating him up inside to know that he was the cause of this whole situation. It’s not like he and TK hadn’t had any arguments before, they had a number of them before they had figured out what they were and what they meant to each other at the beginning of their relationship. ~ aka Carlos's perspective in the aftermath of the fight in 2x04 and all that followed when TK returned.

For @911lonestarangstweek : Day 3 fix-it/Coda

Carlos hated this.

Hated how he made TK feel. Hated how he felt himself. It was eating him up inside to know that he was the cause of this whole situation. It’s not like he and TK hadn’t had any arguments before, they had a number of them before they had figured out what they were and what they meant to each other at the beginning of their relationship.

But this one had a finality to it.

“I freed some more space in your closet. Carlos.”

That’s what TK had said, and Carlos wasn’t sure where that left them.Was that a break-up? It kind of felt like it was, and that made it even worse. Because he didn’t know for sure if it actually was a break-up, or if TK just said it in the heat of the moment but didn’t actually mean anything by it.

Carlos’ stomach roiled at the mere recollection, just the thought of it left him feeling like he was in relationship limbo again, a place he thought he would never be in again since they got together, the day aurora borealis lit the sky. He groaned as he lay in bed, hearing the words repeat over and over again, effectively ruining any chance he had of getting any sleep. Unable to push it from his mind, Carlos tried calling him once but was sent straight to voicemail and followed it up with a text asking him, almost pleading for TK to call him back, hopeful to just be able to talk to him and explain everything. He wondered how TK was, hoped that he was okay, that he made it home to his parents safely. All he could think about was his concern for TK’s welfare and how much he had royally screwed up.

The rest of his night was a sleepless one. One spent in the kitchen, in an attempt to calm his mind with the structure that a recipe would give him, making sweet, chocolate-filled empanadas, something that he learned to make for late-night study sessions in college. It was a calming balm to his turbulent mind. helped it to push aside the frenetic feeling of anxiety over one pissy fight that ended leaving him feeling like it was the end of the world, of their relationship, even if, realistically, it probably wasn’t.

This is not how he wanted things to go. It was not the way he wanted the first meeting between his parents and his boyfriend to happen. The one boyfriend that he actually felt confident in introducing to his parents. He had a plan. One that involved preparing both parties before they officially met over a nice home-cooked meal, not some chance meeting that left him panicking and lying and hurting the man that practically owns his heart.

He hated that he was the cause of this argument, this fight, and the reason for disturbing their bubble of bliss of just being together and loving one another freely. The last thing he wanted was to upset his boyfriend. To blindside him without giving him any forewarning about his past, about his family, to give him all the facts of what he was walking into of the relationship, especially considering how forthcoming TK had been in the past.

When TK asked him about his parents he shouldn’t have evaded the question. It was a topic that he would’ve had to have faced at some point if he was going to make the plan a reality anytime in the near future, like how he’s imagined it so many times. Why didn’t he just tell TK his history with his parents when he asked about them? It’s a question that spun around and around in his head since TK had walked out the door. And he knew the answer, he just didn’t want to admit it to himself.

Carlos had always prided himself in being comfortable with who he was. Self-assured and confidant, a calming presence for the people that needed it. He buried that insecurity surrounding his sexuality and his parents beneath that persona and didn’t want to bring it to light again. Didn’t want to confront his parents and really get them to understand and see him and his sexuality completely. Didn’t want his openness in front of them to potentially compromise the love and acceptance he got when he first came out.

He knew he shouldn’t have made light of the situation by trying to crack jokes, knowing as soon as he started that TK wasn’t going to appreciate his effort to de-escalate the situation with ill-timed jokes, but it was the only defense he had. He hadn’t wanted to lay himself bare and be completely truthful because deep down he was insecure, a feeling that he hid not just from others but also himself. He was afraid of being exposed because deep down he was afraid that it would be a repeat of the last time he was truly vulnerable when he had come out to his parents.

This was all he thought about for most of the day, leaving him exhausted and distracted through most of his shift, but acting as though he was fine when really he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. He didn’t linger once his shift ended like he usually would, not feeling up to pretending that he was okay. Pretending that the finality of his argument with TK didn’t hurt, because it did, Carlos had thought that TK was going to be the one. The first one to introduce to his parents when the time was right. He had thought that he had more time. He knew his mind was spiralling to the worst-case scenario, and logically he knew that TK would talk to him eventually, but logic was not enough to quell the feeling of dread surrounding their relationship.

He didn’t call or text all day, wanting to give TK the space that he clearly wanted and when he got home, he tried to distract himself further by doing a load of laundry, which didn’t just include his clothes, but TK’s as well. The washing didn’t really distract as he hoped though, still finding himself gravitating back to his phone hoping that TK might have messaged or called with a change of heart. None came through and it left him feeling somewhat hopeless to think that might change. He’s had breakups before, but none have come close to what he was feeling. And that meant something. Because he saw a future with TK, something that he’s never entertained with past relationships.

Eventually, he collapsed on the couch in his sweatpants in a perpetual state of turmoil and regret, lamenting over how all of this could have been avoided if he had just been honest in the first place. His resolve was cracking now that he wasn’t occupied and it left him with his thumb hovering over TK’s name in his contacts with a strong want to break the deafening silence between them and just get the relief of hearing TK’s voice. Somehow he managed to refrain from doing so, now wanting to give away his desperation in a series of texts or calls.

He startled an hour later when someone knocked at the door while he was on his way to check on the laundry that had just finished its cycle to put in the dryer. Curious, having not had any messages from anyone else to say they were stopping by he peers through the window beside the door to discover a familiar silhouette, causing his hands to sweat anxiously.

With hesitation, he opened the door wide before drawing it back in, apprehensive of the fact that TK chose not to use his key and what that meant. “Hey,” he said quietly suddenly feeling nervous, seeing the seriousness in TK’s face.

“Hi,” answered TK, just as softly, “Can I come in?”  

“You’ve got a key.”

“Yeah, I thought, maybe you might want that back.”

“Why? Are we breaking up?” He asked and then continued, suddenly feeling fed up and not wanting to beat around the bush anymore, “Or did that already happen because it kinda felt like it did.”

“No,” TK said quickly before following it up with a hesitant, “I mean, I hope not.”

“Come in.” He gestured inside and stepped out of the way.

Trying not to be confrontational, he stayed by the door after he closed it with his hand in his pockets and waited as TK led the conversation, interjecting when TK said that he had acted like a little bitch, which he didn’t, he had made some valid points even if he had been a little dramatic about it. Carlos was slightly taken aback however when TK said he wasn’t sorry, and found his phrasing characteristically confusing, a typical occurrence when he wasn’t sure how exactly to get across the point he was trying to make.

“… do you know what I mean?”

“Not really.”

He didn’t say anything more, allowing for TK to take a different tact as he relocated to ottoman making it clear that he wasn’t going anywhere, and explained what he meant. TK was being completely open and honest about how the day before had made him feel, a sight different from how cagey he used to be when they first met.

“It kills me,” he admitted after TK had said his piece and he finally moved from his spot and sat in front of TK, relieved that TK was clearly willing to hear him out, “Which is exactly why I was avoiding introducing you because I didn’t want that to happen and I- I knew it would.”

“Yeah, but did it have to? They knew you were gay.” He could see that TK was trying to understand, trying to make sense of what he was saying with the limited knowledge of what he knew so far.

“They know, yes.” He said quickly. Trying to find the right words, he took a deep breath, feeling the floodgates lift as he tells TK everything that he’s withheld up until now, wringing his hands as he does so.

“I came out to them when I was seventeen. They were shocked. I- I knew it rocked their world, but they hugged me and told me they loved me and that was that. Do you know what we talked about the next morning? Hmm? The Astros bullpen, the price of unleaded, a new calf in our family ranch. Not one mention of what I shared… then or… since.”

“They seemed like such nice people.”

“They are nice people,” he corrected TK, “But, they’re not perfect people.”

“You know, my parents may be very queer-friendly, but they’re not perfect either,” TK offered, Carlos thinks as a way to help him feel better, “They just gave me a pep talk, that felt like it was more about them than about me.”

Carlos could feel his nerves settling, having unburdened himself and having TK listen and hear the words that he had, up until this point, left unspoken through his avoidance of the topic while also offering a piece of his own upbringing to allay any residual discomfort he had over this conversation.

“That explains a lot,” he says amused, finding the stress slowly melting away.  

TK continued, “There was something that my mom did say though. She said… that I felt triggered because I didn’t feel safe in this relationship.” Carlos broke eye contact with TK as he felt his heart plummet to the floor.

“I see. I’m sorry to hear that.” He said, doing his best to keep his voice steady,  trying to swallow the emotions caught in his throat and wondering if this might actually be it for them after all that, but TK continued speaking, instantly brushing away the anxiety that had spiked within him.

“But you know what I didn’t consider? Is how unsafe you feel and have felt for so much of your life.”

Carlos’s breath caught in his throat as he looked up at TK in wonder, he didn’t expect to feel quite so seen and understood that it left him breathless with his eyes reflexively watering in relief. He could feel the knot in his stomach loosen at that thought as TK slotted his hands into his own, taking a firm and reassuring grip.

“I want you to know that I am fully on board. You can tell your parents I am your friend, your colleague, your personal shopper...” That last one made Carlos laugh considering how that must have looked to his parents at the market, “…I don’t care. Okay? As long as you need.”

As much as he loved knowing how willing TK was to stay by his side regardless of their situation, there was something he had to know and it hurt him to even ask but he knew it wouldn’t be fair to TK if he didn’t, “And if it never changes?” He couldn’t keep the vulnerability from his voice and felt completely at TK’s mercy, knowing that what he says next could very well influence the rest of their relationship, if TK felt he wouldn’t be able to withstand the possibility of being indefinitely his ‘friend from work’ in the eyes of his parents.

“Nothing ever stays the same, Carlos.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that, so he doesn’t and that seemed alright with TK. Instead, he draws TK’s hands held in his grasp and gently holds them to his lips as he shuts his eyes in gratitude. He stays like that, breathing in deep and soothingly, sensing as TK drew himself in closer and felt the touch of his lips pressed against his bowed forehead.

“We’ve unpacked a lot tonight.” TK murmurs into his temple when his lips broke contact, “How about I order us some of your favourite food from that restaurant you like, and we can just curl up on the couch and watch a movie?”

“I’d like that.” Carlos breathed out, any residual tension in his body leaving him as he does so, feeling the weight of the world lift from his shoulders. He opened his eyes and released TK’s hands, shaking himself out of the moment, remembering that he was heading to the laundry when TK had turned up.

“I- ah I just need to move washing to the dryer if either of us are going to have any clothes for work tomorrow.”

TK stood up with him and moved in the opposite direction, heading towards the door leaving Carlos to follow him with his eyes questioningly. “TK?”

TK turned with his hand on the door, a bashful look flushing his face, “I left my phone in my bag outside-- I knew you wanted to talk but I wasn’t sure you actually wanted to see me,” TK opened the door and picked up his duffle, the same one he walked out with the previous night, “…couldn’t bring myself to unpack it.”

Carlos chuckled lightly from where he was standing, shaking his head in amused disbelief. “You couldn’t bring yourself to unpack your bag, and I couldn’t even bring myself to passive-aggressively wash only my clothes that were in the hamper, we’re both hopeless.” He said before disappearing in the direction of the laundry room, leaving TK to order dinner.

When he returned TK was already on the couch, elbows propped on knees as he finished up making their dinner order, one that he seemed to have rote learned from the few times that they’d had it. Dropping his phone to the side as the order went through, TK invited with an outstretched arm for him to settle in as he picked up the remote, “dinner should be here in 30 minutes.”

Carlos fell into TK’s open arms and easily positions himself partially lying across his lap with his back resting against his chest leaving TK to wrap his arms around his torso as he proceeded to pick a movie. He relaxed into the embrace, comforted but the slow rise and fall of TK’s chest against his back.

Carlos waited until the opening credits started on the movie that they watched at least half a dozen times and kissed the inside of TK’s bicep before saying, “We have dessert for tonight. I ended up making chocolate empanadas in the middle of the night and stress ate too many to count because I couldn’t sleep at all last night.”

He felt TK shift beneath him, “I barely slept either.”

Carlos continued, “I’m glad you came back. With the way that you left, I wasn’t sure that you would. I had built it up in my head with all the things I should have done differently to the point that I thought this was an irreparable deal-breaker.”

“Carlos, I was always going to come back, you have to know that--” TK said, conviction clear in his voice, causing Carlos to sit up, propped up on his arms to look at him properly, “--I know I said I wasn’t sorry, but I am-- for making you feel like that. I just needed time to process it all.”

“I know and I get that now. And I’m sorry too, for putting you in that situation in the first place, this wasn’t the way that I planned on introducing you to my parents.”

His admittance erased the guilt swimming in TK’s eyes and brought forth its usual mischievous sparkle in its place, “Oh, so there was a plan?”

“Uh-huh.”  He responded mirthfully with a smirk, not giving much away, and returned to his original position, finding TK’s arms circle him more tightly and felt his chin rest lightly on the crown of his head. The was a beat or two before he spoke again, “TK?”

“Yeah?”

He placed a hand over TK’s, “I don’t want to fight like that again. I hated the silence and not being able to just talk to you.”

“I hated it too,” TK murmured into his hair and there was a quiet moment between them.

“What if… what if we make it so that it doesn’t happen like that again?”

“What are you thinking?”

Carlos paused for a second, gathering his thoughts, “We need to be able to communicate, to be open and honest about a problem with each other, even if it’s to say that we might not be ready to talk about it, just, you know, acknowledge it for a later conversation?”

“Keeping the line open to one another.” TK summarised thoughtfully.

“Yeah,”

“Okay. I like the sound of that.” TK responded softly and sealed it with a kiss into his hair.

The rest of the evening was spent comfortably, how it should have been the night before, eating dinner together on the couch, reciting their favourite parts of what was left of the movie, wrapped up with one another.

They finished off what was left of the empanadas and eventually fell into bed in exhaustion, completely stuffed and at peace, no longer anxious or upset as they were the previous night. If they were slightly more clingy than usual, well neither of them were going to say anything about it because they still had each other and that was what mattered.

The last words spoken by both of them, just like every other night, was a promise and a quiet declaration of “I love you”, sealed with a good night’s kiss.

#jess writes #911lsangstweek #my fic #carlos reyes #tk strand #911 lone star fic #tarlos fic #tarlos #userkimmy #userkourt #userjillian #userpauline #tuserpaige #usermaximus #userjilly #usernelly #tusernikki #userKatieJayne #kingrio #tuserjamie

[morganaspendragonss]

quédate un segundo más (1/8)

@911lonestarangstweek day 8 - t is for...tumour, terminal, treatment

title from voy a quedarme by blas cantó, translates roughly to 'stay a second more'

thanks to @halsteadmarchs and @tarlos-spain for the beta!

as shown above, this will be eight chapters if all goes to plan, and i hope to finish it before season 3 begins. much of what is written both in this chapter and in future ones is ripped directly from life and i am only writing from my own perspective and experiences of losing a loved one to cancer.

ao3 | 1.6k | angst, hurt tk, cancer, terminal illness, more warnings to come in future chapters

A rare genetic mutation.

That’s what the doctors tell him when the results come back.

A rare genetic mutation that has rendered his cancer practically undetectable until its latest stages, until all that’s left to do is wait to die.

TK’s hands shake as various leaflets on Managing Your Diagnosis and What To Expect and Looking After Someone With Cancer are placed in them. He feels two steps to the side of himself, his entire world halting in its tracks the moment those words had left the doctor’s lips.

“I’m afraid it’s not good news,” he’d said, eyes wide and empathetic. “Your scans and blood results have come back showing evidence of a tumour on your pancreas. There are treatment options which we can and will—with your consent—pursue, however I have to inform you that your cancer is entering stage IV. It has begun to spread to your bladder and liver. I’m sorry to say that, at this point, treatment is more focused on managing your pain and making you as comfortable as possible; we do not anticipate recovery.”

It’s just… TK’s fine. He feels fine. Like, sure, he’s been a little more tired recently and he’s been getting these weird pains, but they always fade after a while, and he’s fine.

But he couldn’t deny the blood spotting his pee, the last straw which had finally sent him to the doctor’s office.

Too late, apparently.

A touch on his knee brings him back to reality with a start. TK looks up to meet the doctor’s kind gaze, and he wants to cry.

“I understand this is a lot to take in,” he’s saying. “If you have any questions, please ask.”

“I…” TK shakes his head, swallowing a couple of times before dropping his eyes to his knees, the words on the pamphlets blurred through his tears. “How long?”

The doctor hesitates a moment, then sighs regretfully. “I can’t say for certain. People frequently outlive their projected timeframes; equally, it could be less. However, given the way your tumour looks and the rate it appears to be spreading at, I would estimate around six months.”

Six months.

Six—six months.

“Oh,” TK says, and it feels wildly insufficient but it’s all he has. What even is there to say? He’s dying, and that’s...that’s that.

“Do you have a support system in place?” the doctor asks. “This is going to be a difficult process, and you are going to need other people to help you through it.”

TK nods slowly, not looking up. “M-My husband. Carlos. He was supposed to come with me today but he was called into work last minute. He’s a detective, so he couldn’t exactly refuse—not that that stopped him from trying.” He laughs wetly, remembering how he’d insisted that everything would be fine when Carlos had stalled leaving this morning. “And there’s my dad, and my team—my family. I’m a paramedic and I work in a fire station, so we’re all pretty close. I… Shit, I’m sorry. You don’t need to know all this.”

“It’s okay.” The doctor is still smiling, still so understanding, and TK wonders—just how many times has he had to do this? “I’m glad to hear you have solid support behind you; that’s going to be incredibly important for the coming months. I’ve also given you a few leaflets about support groups you can access, that your family can access, and, of course, your treatment team will be there every step of the way.

“Now,” he continues, returning to a semi-professional aspect, “I want to see you later this week to iron out how we’re going to proceed. For now, why don’t you go home and rest, allow yourself to process this? Does Friday at 10.30 work for your next appointment?”

TK nods absently, clutching the pamphlets tight enough to crease them. “That’s fine,” he whispers.

“Okay,” the doctor says, just as quiet. “Are you going to be okay to get home?”

“Yeah.”

But he doesn’t move. He can’t. In this room, he’s separated from the rest of the world—TK doesn’t want to go back into it, where he’ll have to tell everyone he loves that he’s… That he…

“TK.”

TK’s head snaps up at the doctor’s voice and he flushes a little at seeing his pointed look. “Sorry,” he mutters, scrambling to stand up.

The doctor stands too, much more gracefully than TK, and gets the door for him. “It’s okay. I’ll see you on Friday, TK, alright?”

He mumbles an affirmative then steps out of the office, taken aback for a moment by the bustle and noise in the corridor. It’s strange to witness it now, to see all these people who don’t know him from Adam going about their lives, while his has, in the span of thirty minutes, completely crumbled.

TK takes a deep breath (and how many of those does he have left?) and joins the flow.

*

He’s home.

That’s… He doesn’t remember it. He must have unlocked the front door because the keys are in his hand and he’s standing in the entryway, but TK has no idea how he managed to get from the doctor’s office to here.

He made good time though, judging by the clock on the wall.

Small victories.

With heavy steps, TK walks to the sofa, easing himself down and tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling. It still doesn’t feel real that there's this—this thing inside him, growing and mutating and killing him. He’s not sure when it finally will.

Maybe in a few months, when his skin is sagging off his bones and his hair is gone and even the very act of breathing is a challenge.

Or maybe in a few hours, when Carlos comes home and TK has to break the news. TK can picture his face now, the way his ever-present smile will crack and break, the shock and hurt and grief that will take its place.

He thinks he understands his dad now.

TK closes his eyes and tries to clear his mind, just for a moment, of everything that’s happened today.

Which, as it turns out, is a mistake, because that’s when he remembers the letter that came for them yesterday and the phone call they’re going to make after dinner.

The phone call they were going to make after dinner.

TK wants to scream at the unfairness of it all. They’ve been waiting for that moment for so long, the moment in which they found out they were finally cleared to adopt a kid. And now…

Gone.

Carlos is going to be crushed.

As if the universe is reacting to that last thought, the door suddenly swings open, marking Carlos’s return from his impromptu shift. For a moment, TK panics. He’s not ready, dammit, he needs more time to plan and to figure it all out, how he feels and what he’s going to say, but—

But, in the end, it doesn’t matter. He could have had the most detailed and well-thought out plan in the world and it wouldn’t have mattered.

Because all it takes is one look at Carlos’s smile for TK to fall apart.

Carlos is by his side in an instant, gathering him in his arms and sliding to the floor with him when TK can no longer support himself on the couch. TK fists his hands in his husband’s shirt and cries into his neck, all the emotion that’s been slowly building all day exploding from him all at once.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Carlos shushes, which only makes TK cry harder, because how is he supposed to tell him that it’s not?

He shakes his head and clings onto him tighter, feeling Carlos do the same to him in return. TK’s always felt safe in his arms and it’s no different now; he thinks that, if he can just stay here forever, maybe things will turn out okay after all.

But the moment ends, as they tend to do. When TK’s sobs have run dry, Carlos carefully pulls back from him, his hands rising to cup his face and wipe the tears from his cheeks.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” he asks softly, so much worry in those damn eyes that it hurts. “Is it… Did the doctor say something? Are you okay?”

TK opens his mouth, but the words refuse to come out. All he manages is a wordless shake of the head, and even that turns Carlos’s expression into the picture of devastation. He can’t bear to look at it, so he wraps his arms around Carlos’s waist and leans into him again, resting his head on his chest.

Carlos holds him and presses a kiss to the top of his head. “We’ll get through it,” he promises. “Whatever it takes.”

And it turns out that he does have a few more tears left in him; TK squeezes his eyes shut and breathes out shakily as a couple of lone drops fall down his cheeks. “We can’t,” he whispers hoarsely. Carlos stiffens and shifts as if to look TK in the eyes, but TK doesn’t let him. If he has to look at Carlos, he doesn’t think he’ll have the courage to say it. He hesitates a moment longer, a huge lump forming in his throat, but eventually he manages it.

“It’s cancer,” he chokes out. “Stage IV. Incurable. They think… I’ve got six months.”

It’s like time stops.

They’re both motionless on the floor of their front room, neither saying anything, barely breathing as the weight of it settles between them.

TK doesn’t know how long it lasts for, but suddenly Carlos sobs and grips onto him with a bruising strength. Carlos’s body heaves and shakes with the force of his cries, and it’s TK’s turn to hold him as tears drip down Carlos’s cheeks into his hair.

And, in that moment, it becomes real.

#911lsangstweek #911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #tk strand #carlos reyes #lone star #911ls #tw cancer #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #userbones #userjillian #tuserjenny #tuserpaige #tuserjamie #reyeslonestartag #actuallysara

[tkstrrand]

✨ tarlos fic ✨

2.7k / Ao3 / @911lonestarangstweek ● Day 3: Coda / fix-it fic

title: I feel like a part of my soul has loved you since the beginning of everything.

summary: During a weekly 126 hang out, Mateo lets slip that TK once called Alex his soul mate and he proposed to him before they broke up. TK spends the rest of the evening believing Carlos is angry TK never told him about the proposal, but the truth is far more heart breaking than TK could have imagined. Yet the small heartbreak and confusion makes TK realise something he should have long along, and maybe something he did know along.

thank you so much to @noxsoulmate for this heartbreakingly beautiful idea and letting me have a go at writing it!💛

preview

"What about the soul mate?" Mateo offered.

"Soul mate?" Nancy spun her head to TK, her eyes wide with shock. TK only managed to catch a glimpse of it because his own head had snapped towards Mateo, who seemed blissfully unaware of what he just said.

"Yeah," He nodded, "The fiancé you broke up with before you came here,"

"fiancé?" Carlos half choked out next to him.

TK was stuck between reaching over to strange Mateo before he said anything else and turning to Carlos to explain; luckily for Mateo, he chose the latter.

"He-he wasn't my fiance," TK said, the words tumbling out his mouth as he shook his head.

"I thought you proposed to him," Mateo innocently asked, clearly having no idea that TK really didn't want to relive that god awful day again.

TK could feel the group staring at him, all of them eagerly awaiting a response.

TK looked up at Carlos. For the first time, maybe since knowing the man, his face was unreachable. He didn't look angry, which he currently had every right to be seeing he just learned TK proposed to some guy over a year ago. He didn't look shocked or upset, he just looked...empty. Empty in a way TK couldn't quite understand

[read the rest on ao3]

#911 lone star #tk strand #carlos reyes #tarlos #911lsangstweek

[marjansmarwani]

sleep is never coming

2.8k || ao3

Owen has been having the same dream for months now. Every few nights he falls asleep and is returned to one of the worst moments of his life in vivid technicolor. After one of these nights, he finds himself in the kitchen: seeking some tea in pursuit of sleep when he is suddenly not alone. But maybe the young officer who just stumbled into his kitchen from his son's bedroom is the best person he could talk to about this. Maybe it takes someone who loves his son as much as he does to truly understand the fear that is keeping him up at night. ----- Angst Week Day 1: "How do we fix this?" + Anon request: "It's just a nightmare."

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

The bang is sudden, unexpected, and earth-shattering. Owen whips around, searching for the source of the sound but stops mid-turn, frozen in horror at the sight before him. His son slumping over; clutching his collarbone, gasping in pain, and slowly falling to the ground. He tries to move towards him but he feels as if he is trying to move through molasses, too slow to reach him in time. Too slow to help him; just like he was too slow to prevent it. 

It’s the same, every time. He can trace the movements, he knows the script by heart. First, TK falls; then comes the blood. Far, far too much of it oozing from the entry wound, spreading across the ground beneath him and sliding down the wall behind them. There’s more blood too, in a place it should never be: coming out of TK’s mouth as he struggles to breathe, as his wide and terrified eyes seek Owen’s. 

He wants to reassure him, he wants to tell him it’ll be okay, but he doesn’t want to lie. He made a promise many years ago to never lie to his child, no matter what. And as much as he wants it to be a truth, it may not be. He doesn’t know that everything will be okay and that terrifies him. 

There is movement and commotion and voices shouting instructions and updates but all Owen knows for sure is the sensation of watching TK’s eyes close, or seeing the moment he stops breathing. He knows for certain the exact moment he watches his son die because it is the moment his heart shatters. 

There is deadly silence then, for a beat. And in the breath after, he wakes up. 

He shots upright in bed, sucking in a harsh breath before running a weary and shaking hand across his face. “It’s just a nightmare,” he reminded himself, “it’s not real.” He knew this: he’d been having that dream for months now. 

While true, the reminder did nothing to quell the racing of his heart. He sighed and threw the blankets back, climbing out of bed and heading towards the bedroom door. There was no use trying to go back to sleep; past experience had shown him that much. His only hope was to head to the kitchen, make some tea, and hope for the best. Just like he had every few nights in the month since the accident. 

He suppressed a yawn as he walked into the kitchen before checking that the kettle still had water in it and turning on the burner. He leaned against the counter as it heated, rubbing at his tired eyes. He couldn’t keep going on like this. He needed to sleep through the night, he needed to make sure he was on the top of his game. He owed it to his team. 

But every time he tried, he got a front-row seat to one of the worst moments of his life. Nothing — no fire, no accident, not even 9/11 — would compare to the fear he had felt watching his son collapse after being shot. He knew worrying about him was normal, he knew dwelling on it was to be expected. He just hadn’t banked on reliving it every other night. 

He was so distracted by his thoughts that he didn’t notice the sound of footsteps coming down the hall until a sound of surprise had him looking up to see a tousled, shirtless, and embarrassed Officer Reyes standing at the threshold of his kitchen. 

“I’m sorry Sir, I didn’t know…” 

Owen waved off his stammered apology, “You didn’t do anything wrong, Carlos. And please, it’s 3 am and you’re in my kitchen—I think you can call me Owen.” 

Carlos gave a nervous laugh but walked further into the kitchen. He raised an eyebrow as he looked at Owen, “It is 3 am so if you don’t mind me asking Sir...Owen, what are you doing?” 

Owen gestured at the kettle that was just starting to steam, “Couldn’t sleep, so I decided to see if some tea would help. Would you like some? I could use the company.” 

“Oh,” Carlos looked taken aback, “um, sure. Thank you.” 

Owen turned to the cupboard to pull out two mugs and the box of chamomile tea. He held it up to Carlos, who nodded. “So,” he began, setting everything down on the counter next to the stove, “any particular reason you are in my kitchen at 3 am?” 

Carlos chuckled and stepped closer, settling onto one of the stools on the other side of the counter, “I just woke up and wanted a glass of water. I figured you wouldn’t mind and I had no idea I’d run into anyone.” 

“Normally you’d be right, but I’ve been having some trouble sleeping lately.” 

Carlos was quiet then and Owen could see the dilemma playing out in his head through his expression. It was in Carlos Reyes’s nature to fix things, and he was trying to decide whether or not prying into his boyfriend’s father’s insomnia over 3 am tea was crossing a line. Owen decided to make the decision for him. 

“I’ve been having some dreams that are keeping me up. Well, a dream I guess. The same one, every time.”

Carlos studied him as Owen paused to pull the whistling kettle off the burner, “Do you want to talk about it?” 

Owen shook his head, “Thanks, but one of us losing sleep over it is enough. No reason to keep you up too.” 

“I’m already up and after the shock of finding you in the kitchen I am wide awake,” Carlos pointed out dryly. “We’re both here so you may as well talk about it, if you want to.” 

Owen considered as he poured the water over the teabags in the mugs. Did he want to? Keeping it to himself clearly wasn’t working. He didn’t want to burden anyone else with this; a part of him wondered how anyone else could possibly understand. The fear and pain of watching your child almost die was unlike anything else. Still, he conceded, in this particular situation, who was better suited to understand this fear than Carlos? He knew how hard the accident had been hard on him too, despite trying as hard as he had to keep up a brave front. If anyone could understand where he was coming from, it would be the young man sitting at the counter with him. 

“I keep reliving that night.” 

He stole a glance at Carlos to see if he needed to be more specific but the newly clenched jaw told Owen that he knew exactly what night he was talking about. He slid the other mug across the counter before wrapping his hands around his own, “sometimes it feels like it’s every time I try to sleep. I close my eyes and I’m just there again.” 

Carlos let out a shuddering breath and tightened his grip on his mug, “I know what you mean. I...had a similar problem, right after it happened. I don’t think I got much sleep at all while he was in the hospital. I would wake up afraid, not remembering that he was okay, that it had all turned out fine. I just had this fear that I couldn’t shake. Sometimes I don’t think I ever will, not completely. The only thing that helped with the dreams, at least, was the fact that TK was lying next to me, alive and okay, eventually.” 

“Well I’m sure neither of you would appreciate me coming to check on him every time I have that dream, would make for some awkward encounters,” Owen retorted, trying for a joke that fell flat, judging by Carlos’s forced smile. He sighed and ran a weary hand over his face, “How do we fix this?” 

“Time, I guess,” Carlos responded with a shrug. “I wish I had a better answer, but I think that’s the only one there is.” 

Owen took a sip of his tea, rolling the idea around in his mind before he shook his head, “I don’t know if time is going to be enough. I don’t think time will ever completely erase the guilt.” 

“The guilt?” There was genuine surprise in the young officer’s voice and Owen snorted. 

“I’m not only his father, but his captain. I told him to breach the door. I gave the order, and I was standing right there. I had all the information but I didn’t put it together fast enough to stop it, to save him. There is not a single way of looking at this that doesn’t make me responsible.” 

Owen isn’t sure what reaction he expected out of his son’s boyfriend, but it certainly wasn’t what he got. He didn’t expect him to scoff and counter his claim with one of his own: “How do you think I feel? I’m a cop and I was on the scene. We knew there was a gun and yet it slipped through the cracks. It’s more my fault than anyone’s if anything.” 

Owen blinked for a second, processing everything that Carlos had just said. “That’s insane,” he retorted incredulously, “you had two civilians in your care and the logical assumption to make was that once the grandfather collapsed the gun was no longer an issue. “Besides,” he added wryly, “whoever heard of anyone shooting at the fire dept? Everyone loves us.” 

Carlos snorted at that before his expression turned serious again, “The same goes for you: how did you have any way of knowing that things were any different than any other time? You followed protocol, you did everything you should have. TK did everything he should have; he did the job he was trained to do. Chances are, nothing could have prevented what happened.” 

Owen considered his words as he swished the tea in his cup, watching as the leaves that had settled at the bottom rose upwards into the warm liquid again. “You might be right,” he allowed, “but I don’t like it.” 

“No one likes feeling helpless, Owen,” Carlos pointed out wryly. “But sometimes that’s all we can be.”

Owen looked up from his tea to study the younger man, who met his gaze and held it. “You’re pretty wise for someone so young, you know that?” he said after a few moments. 

“That’s just your sleep-deprived brain talking.” 

Owen chuckled at that and Carlos grinned in response. “What do you think TK would say if he knew we were both up at an ungodly hour worrying about him?”

“He would be very against it,” Owen said with certainty, and Carlos hummed in agreement. 

“Unfortunately for him, I don’t think either of us is going to stop anytime soon.” 

“No,” Owen agreed, “but that’s what happens when you love someone.” 

Carlos froze, choking on his tea mid-sip before setting the cup down as he coughed and stared at Owen, who chuckled. 

“It’s okay Carlos, I don’t know if you’ve said it yet, but it doesn’t matter. I know you love him and if I know my son, he feels the same way. I’m just happy you two found each other. It makes me feel a lot better knowing that he has someone else who cares about him as much as I do looking out for him.”

“But not enough to help you sleep at night, huh?” 

“Apparently not,” Owen agreed wearily. 

Carlos gave him a smile, “What about the fact that he has both of us looking after him now? Does that make you feel any better?” Carlos paused a moment and met Owen’s eyes before continuing, “Because you’re not alone in this Owen, and neither is he. You have a family here in Austin. I may have only been around for a few months but it doesn’t take long to see. You, TK, the rest of the crew: you all look out for each other. Does that help at all?” 

Owen looked down at the counter, overwhelmed by the truth of the statement. It wasn’t that he didn’t know that, it was more that sometimes it was hard to remember. It didn’t seem like so long ago that he had arrived in Austin, that they had all met. Yet he knew what Carlos said was true. He did have a family here in Austin now, and it was growing to include a certain officer more and more each day. 

“As long as we’re clear that you’re included in that too, Carlos,” he said, after a beat. 

The younger man opened his mouth but Owen held up a hand, “Nope, no arguments. You’re just as much a part of this as anyone else. It was already true, but this whole tea thing has really sealed the deal, no backing out now.” 

There was another beat of silence, and then Carlos smiled. “Thank you, Owen,” he said softly. 

They trailed off into comfortable silence after that, each lost in their own thoughts and sipping their tea. It was some time before Owen happened to catch a glimpse of the clock over the stove. He swore, breaking the reverie they had been in and causing Carlos to startle ever so slightly. 

“Sorry,” he apologized, “I just hadn’t realized how late it had gotten. Or early, maybe?” He trailed off and ran a hand through his hair before turning and looking at Carlos whose eyebrows rose when he saw the time. 

“Do we even bother trying to go back to bed at this point?” he asked, and Owen chuckled. 

“How do you feel about breakfast?” he asked instead. 

“I think that sounds like an excellent plan,” Carlos agreed, pulling himself off of his stool and crossing into the kitchen, “anything particular you had in mind?” 

It was shortly after that that a groggy TK stumbled into the kitchen, taking in the scene before him between blinks as he fought to clear the last remnants of sleep from his eyes. “What are you two doing?” he asked, voice still slightly raspy with sleep but filled with confusion. “Am I dreaming?” 

Carlos grinned and stepped around the counter, pressing a light kiss on TK’s cheek as Owen spoke, “Can’t say that you are, no. I can say though that I am surprised to see you up — it’s pretty early.” 

“Which is why I was confused when I woke up to an empty bed,” he retorted pointedly, glancing at Carlos. “So I figured I should see where you’d gotten to.” 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you,” Carlos told him sincerely, “I just woke up and came out for a drink and ran into your dad in the kitchen. We got to talking and realized neither of us could go back to sleep, so we made breakfast.” 

He turned as he spoke, gesturing to the counter which held a platter of eggs and pancakes. “I was just going to come and wake you up in a bit, to see if you wanted any.” 

TK glanced from the counter to Owen and back to Carlos, eyebrows raised, “Are you sure I’m not dreaming?” he asked eventually. 

“Pretty sure,” Owen said with a shrug, and TK nodded. 

“That makes sense,” he agreed, “I don’t think I could even dream up something this strange.” 

“I don’t know son,” Owen said lightly as he poured himself a cup of coffee from the freshly brewed pot, “the mind can be a pretty interesting place. But the food is getting cold, come on.” 

TK glanced at Carlos again who smiled at him and pulled him forward to one of the stools. He slid onto it and accepted the plate passed to him by his father with his baffled expression still in place, though it seemed to be morphing to something closer to fondness with each passing second. 

“So,” he said softly, leaning closer to Carlos as Owen busied himself at the stove, flipping the last batch of pancakes, “you and my dad get along now, do you?” 

“We do,” Carlos confirmed confidently, shooting Owen a grin. 

TK looked between them, “I don’t know if I should be happy or worried about this.” 

“Probably a bit of both,” Owen told him lightly as he slid the last pancakes onto the tray and set it down before them.” 

“That sounds right,” TK agreed. “What did you guys talk about?” 

There was quiet for a second as Carlos and Owen glanced at each other. “Just stuff,” Owen said lightly, “general things, everyday stuff; you know.” 

TK didn’t look convinced but he didn’t press, reaching instead for the plate of pancakes and serving them onto the plates before them. “That’s fine,” he said lightly, “keep your secrets. Since you’re friends now, I guess.” 

Carlo shook his head fondly as he accepted the pancakes placed on his plate and Owen smiled. Maybe it was just morning optimism, but things looked better in the dim dawn light leaking through the kitchen windows. Maybe this talk, this reminder that his family was so much more than just him and TK now, would be the thing that would help him to put this behind him. 

Maybe tonight he would have a dreamless sleep — maybe this had been just what he needed.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #911lsangstweek #my writing #userkimmy #userjilly #userac #usermaximus #userbones #tuserpaige #tuserjamie #immortalstrand #maizsnex #hierophvnts #buckybarnesalways

[kiras-sunshine]

you as a focal point

Post 2x09 fic for day three of @911lonestarangstweek

j is for jabbing (pain)

words: 6.4k

summary:

TK can swallow one headache down to not to disturb their happiness.

read on ao3

#tarlos #tarlos fic #911lsangstweek #911lonestarangstweek #carlos reyes x tk strand #my writing #911 lone star fic #includes a bit fluff too because i'm incapable of writing pure angst

[reyesstrand]

we’ll be a fine line

tarlos / teen+ / 3.2k

He closes his eyes, and all he can picture is the kid's pinpoint pupils and cold, clammy skin. TK closes his eyes and all of a sudden he's back in his shoebox apartment in Brooklyn, and he can't get rid of the sourness pooling under his tongue, the trembling of his fingers, no matter how damn hard he tries.

@911lonestarangstweek day one: (alt one) emotional hurt/comfort + “please tell me what happened so i can help you feel better”

It's a normal day on shift until it very suddenly isn't. And isn't that how these things always start?

TK hums under his breath as he takes a sanitizing wipe to the inside of the bus, scrubbing down all the surfaces after their first call of the day ended with a little girl emptying her stomach. Since he'd been driving and therefore out of the splash zone, he's on clean-up duty while Captain Vega and Nancy change. He goes through the motions on auto-pilot, everything coming naturally to him now after nearly two months in his new position; he carefully cleans the monitors and lets some disinfectant sit to do its job on the frame of the stretcher for a couple of minutes, before wiping it all down.

After taking a broom to the floor and changing out the linens and making sure the various chords and leads are where they need to be, he goes and scrubs his hands clean before plopping down on the foot of the ambulance with a sigh, pulling his phone out from his pocket.

He's tapping into his text thread with Carlos when he hears muffled conversation slowly growing louder, glancing up to watch Nancy and Captain Vega stroll toward the ambulance bay, each of them carrying boxes with some of the supplies needed to replenish their inventory. TK returns his gaze to his phone and he must end up smiling like an idiot at Carlos' text because he nearly gets a pack of sterile gauze to the head.

"Care to share, lover boy?" Nancy teases, catching the same package he launches back at her with ease before she hoists herself up into the bus.

"I don't think you're prepared for that, Gillian," TK shoots back, twisting his body around to watch as she starts putting items into their respective compartments in the organizational method they compromised on. "Besides, I think there are a few details about your date last night you have yet to share with the class."

He lifts a brow at her and Nancy narrows her eyes at him. They break all too quickly, though, grinning at each other after making stupid, childlike faces.

Captain Vega, now well past the point of realizing and accepting she's become the mother of four, barely looks up from her clipboard as she chides them with a teasing, "okay, kids."

It's then that a voice comes over the loudspeaker in the house, and once they hear RA 126, TK and Nancy bump shoulders as they head for the front of the ambulance while Captain Vega settles into her seat, listening to the details of the call. They end up in a small neighbourhood downtown where an elderly woman has tripped while collecting her mail.

TK smiles a little bit on the drive to Mercy as bits of the conversation between Nancy, Captain Vega, and their patient filters up to his spot behind the wheel. He thinks it might be his favourite part of the job—the people, their stories, their ability to find something to laugh about even when they're sitting in the back of an ambulance. He opens the doors once they're parked and he gets called sugar by their patient; she thanks him with a pat to the cheek and a maternal thank you, doll, after he's helped guide the stretcher down to the ground. Nancy laughs at his flushed cheeks and they're barely sliding back into their seats and pulling away from the hospital when their radios crackle to life again.

He's about to make a comment about how there must be something in the air, today, for them already to be so busy, but his blood promptly runs cold when he hears the code for suspected overdose.

Nancy's eyes flick to his while they listen to dispatch give the rundown—apparently Ladder 121's already responding but they're the closest medical unit in the area—and once Captain Vega confirms they're en-route, TK tries to just focus on the road. He knew, of course, that this was something he'd have to deal with when following his dad's footsteps, and that reality became even clearer when he was offered the position on Captain Vega's team.

It still doesn't stop the dread from twisting up his stomach.

READ THE REST ON AO3!!

#tarlos #911 lone star #tarlos fic #911lsangstweek #my fic