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whumpkeys · 3 years

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May I request a one-shot where Legolas is sleeping (recovering from an injury and is in Imladris) and Aragorn is sitting next to him, watching over him and like braiding a strand of his hair??? tooth rotting fluff please!!! Thank you xoxo (strictly platonic)

Sorry for the wait, I hope that this wasn’t too long coming! I tried to make this as fluffy as possible, so I hope it’s up to code! I hope that you like what I’ve wrote and thank you for following me and reading what I write.

Ao3 link in reblog

Aragorn was born for many things, so everyone kept telling him at least, but waiting wasn’t one such thing. Whether it’d been for food, information, or even the simplest thing as waiting for the sun to rise on an autumn day, Aragorn found waiting wasn’t in his nature. Thus it should’ve been no surprise to either him, or the rest of the Fellowship, when he found himself sitting in the sickroom, his legs bouncing with unspent energy.

It wasn’t that he wanted to be in this predicament. He didn’t even want to be in Imlandris, commonly known as Rivendell, wanted to be out on the road. But Legolas had taken an arrow in the leg, and the shaft had broken off, requiring the crooked stone arrowhead to be dug out by hand, a dangerous, nearly always fatal procedure, unless done by the kind of specialists and magic wielders as existed in the land of the elves. The surgery had gone smoothly enough, and the elf was most definitely on the mend, out of danger to the great relief of Aragorn and the other members of the Fellowship. However rest was still needed and thus Aragorn found himself sitting, weeks having already drifted past during the elf’s convalescence, wondering why Legolas took so stupidly long to heal. Not that Aragorn seriously considered dragging him out of bed early or leaving him. Legolas was a friend, more than that, a companion, one of the Fellowship, and Aragorn would have no one left behind or put into danger because of his own smothered impatience.

Glancing over at the elf Aragorn pick up a strand of his hair. He liked the long hair of the elves, would’ve grown his own brown locks down his back if it were practical, or even possible, as Aragorn didn’t seem to have to cut his hair to keep it at length, it stayed as it was, sedate and a bit drab. Splitting Legolas’s hair into strands Aragorn was a bit too lost in his thoughts to notice the familiar pattern of crossing hair over hair. Braiding was an old practice for Aragorn, though he wasn’t quite sure where he’d picked it up. Maybe from Arwen. Either way, it was a sort of habit he’d grown into, and now he found himself back at it, braiding Legolas’s hair in all sorts of ways.

How well Aragorn knew Legolas now. How long ago it seemed since he’d run into that young elf. There’d always been a bond of brotherhood between the two, even right at the beginning, and Aragorn now could scarcely imagine a time when he didn’t have the elf to talk to, to trade secrets, wishes, and burdens with. The grateful feeling of relief he’d felt at the news that his brother in all but blood was going to be alright was overwhelming, and had spent him spiraling in thoughts as to how much he really loved Legolas, and how Aragorn had found family in the most unexpected of places.

“I assume my leg hasn’t turned green.” The semi sarcastic voice drew Aragorn out of his ponderings, and he looked at Legolas, who sleepily blinked his eyes. “I’d sit up and check, but I don’t want to ruin the work of art you’re turning my hair into right now.” Aragorn chuckled at this, knowing full well that Legolas didn’t really care one way or another what his hair was turning into.

“You leg has indeed failed to turn green, I’m sorry to tell you but you’re still stuck on this quest with us.”

“Just as well, I couldn’t imagine the frightful looks I’d get from the other elves if I was laid off, I bet even the trees would bow their heads in shame.”

“Never about you, I promise that.” Aragorn replied, smiling, happy that he was bantering once more with Legolas. Surely that meant the elf felt much better, for Legolas only bantered in his good moods, otherwise contenting himself with cryptic musings about nature, musings he’d once admitted to Aragorn he made more incomprehensible to annoy Boromir. “I don’t think anyone could be ashamed or doubt your determination after you nearly killed yourself chasing after an orc like that, you knew it was a trap and the band was going to turn around the minute you were separated.” His expression grew more serious. “Bravado is all well and good elf, but I’d not have you die, especially not from such a foolish act.”

“Perhaps it was a bit reckless,” Legolas admitted, not looking the least bit contrite, “but I honestly thought I could handle it, you’ve seen me take on much more than orcs after all, you know that I’m capable.”

“Not when you’re being reckless, it clouds your judgement, I know those tricks of yours take great skills and concentration.” Aragorn shook his head. “I’m not about to forbid you anything, you’re older than I am, know the risks, but I’m only going to remind you that you’re not alone, and that many would mourn your passing… I first among them.” He admitted after a pause.

“That’s a beautiful braid you’ve made.” Legolas smiled, before taking Aragorn’s hand in his, causing the braid to unwind a bit without the hair being fastened or tied up. “I promise I won’t forget my family, for the Valar have brought us together of that I am sure. But trust my judgement more, after all like you said I am older than you. I’ll not rush into danger like that again since it worries you so much, but you cannot stop my combat antics forever, and you know that. So trust in me, and in destiny, the gods, and in Fate. All will be well. We’ll succeed in our quest, and I’ll not be leaving anytime soon.”

“Thank you.” Aragorn smiled, and Legolas returned the gesture in a mirrored grin.

“Now, since it’s going to be a while, why don’t you get some ribbons and ties and finally show me how the braids you make out of rope translate to real hair. And don’t you dare mess up.” Aragorn laughed and got up to search for such ties, his heart filled with relief and love, grateful to the entire universe and everything in it that this family he found wasn’t going to shrink.

#lotr #lord of the rings #fanfic #fanfiction #oneshot #lotr fanfic #reblog #not mine

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whumpkeys · 3 years

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Color Palette meme: radio *s + christopher diaz for @trashbaget (id in alt text)

#i love him #so much #kind of reminds me of the kid from the conjuring #no idea why though

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whumpkeys · 3 years

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the whole "Shannon had it rough" excuse is truly baffling. They always rush to talk about how hard it was for Shannon to take care of Chris, to witness his surgeries and recovery from them, the physical therapy, everything regarding CP, but ignore that CHRIS is the one suffering the most from them? And he didn't even choose to be born? However "rough" Shannon had it, Chris had it worse. They act like Chris is a prop, a plot device for Shannon's angst, instead of a real person. It's gross

"They act like Chris is a prop, a plot device for Shannon's angst, instead of a real person." Most people aren't gonna like what I'm about to say, but I don't think this is solely reserved for Shannon. Eddie stans/supporters, even the ones who recognize Shannon's flaws, have a tendency to make Christopher's struggles about Eddie. I point out the ways in which Eddie is being the type of parent that someone like Christopher deserves, and the tags are like "loml Eddie Diaz", "it's loving Eddie Diaz hours" and, uh, true, but, Christopher deserves a lot more than a simple hashtag. I never see "Daily reminder that I love Christopher Diaz" talk, either. As for the main point of this ask - this fandom receives Shannon the exact same way society receives my parents, and the parents of anyone in my community. "You must be so tired!" "I don't know how you do it!" "She's so lucky to have you!" (LOL!) The focus is placed on the parent who does things for their child, rather than the child who was born into a body they (literally) have no control over. It is not fun for us to be dependent. It is not fun for us to need help with the more "embarrassing" parts of being disabled, ie showering/bathing, dressing, and using the bathroom. It is not fun for us to attempt to do something ourselves, only to realize it's much harder than we thought. And it's never anything that an able-bodied person cannot do. It's like, "I can definitely tie my shoes myself today." *ten minutes later* "For fuck's sake! Why won't my hands cooperate?!?" It is not fun for us to be carried much longer than our able-bodied friends/classmates and become an unwilling spectacle. It is not fun for us to grow up and find out that this world we live in would rather we die just to make things easier on the rest of society. Our conditions rob parents/guardians of time and energy. True. But you know what they take from us on our worst days? Dignity. Sense of self. Freedom. Parents get breaks from being our support system, by the way. We go to school. We go to programs outside the home. They go to work. Sometimes WE even go to work! You know who doesn't get a break? The person who's actually disabled. It's 24/7/365 for us. A full-time job with no chance for vacations.

#this goes hand in hand with the whole ‘autism supermom’ thing i hate so much #friendly reminder that loving a disabled person doesn’t make you a hero or earn you a gold star

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whumpkeys · 3 years

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i spent 15 mins making this rather than writing

#key’s queue

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whumpkeys · 3 years

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Okayokay you know that scene from Brooklyn 99 where Jake calls Holt dad? That but with Buck and the 118. Like that would be so cool and Bobby acts all ‘haha you called me dad-‘ but then goes back home and Athena finds him crying because ‘OH MY GOSH HE CALLED ME DAD-‘ and idk it just sounds really cute to me and I need that rn where tf are my glasses-

not me crying over THIS

They're in the middle of dragging all of the heavy gear out from inside the rig after a particularly intense call, which could have ended in tragedy, if not for Buck's heroism and quick thinking, and the Captain stops for a second to look at the kid.

For as young and impulsive as Buck was when Bobby had first met him, he's come a long way--though impulsive is still a pretty good word to describe him, Bobby can't help but think, fondly.

He claps a hand on his shoulder, smiling at the firefighter when he looks up in surprise. "You did a good job out there today, Buck." he tells him, wanting Buck to know that Bobby does in fact acknowledge the good, and not just the bad, despite how it may seem at times.

Buck's face breaks out into a smile that reminds Bobby of the sun--warm and bright--and not thinking, Buck says, "Thanks Dad." without realizing the absolute can of worms he's just opened until he feels everyone's eyes boring into him. "Uh, why is everyone staring at me?"

Chimney grins, a shit eating grin that bodes only bad things for Buck. "You just called Captain Nash 'dad'--you said 'thanks Dad'." he repeats.

Buck makes a face, going for confusion, rather than total mortification. "What? No I didn't." he denies outright. Did he? "I said, 'thanks Cap'."

Bobby pats him on the shoulder again, raising a brow. "Do you see me as a father figure, Buck?" he asks, teasingly.

The blush that creeps across his face is instant, "Oh my god, no!" he shakes Bobby's hand off of him, embarrassed and wishing a hole would open up underneath him and just swallow him entirely right this minute.

Hen clucks her tongue, "Hey, have some respect for your father!"

Buck groans, throwing his head in his hands. He is never going to live this down. Damn. "I didn't call him 'dad'!" he tries again, though it's to no avail.

The Captain smirks a little smirk and says, "Don't worry, Buck, I take it as a compliment."

Eddie hums thoughtfully. "It's not that big a deal," He says, trying to divert some attention from his best friend. "I called my teacher in high school 'mom' once." he shrugs.

Buck looks over at Eddie gratefully until Chimney waves the antidote away and says, "That's one thing, but Buck calling Cap 'daddy'?"

Buck points a finger at him and scrunches up his face indignantly, "Hey, 'daddy' is not on the table here!"

Probie, who's been listening to the whole thing, his attention enraptured, instead of taking stock of their gear, pipes up with, "Sure, but, you did call him 'dad'."

Buck gawks at him. "Probie! Hush! Anyway, I didn't call Cap 'dad', everyone shut up." he mutters.

"Don't worry, I believe you," Bobby nods at him, "Son."

Buck groans again.

Yeah, definitely never living this moment down.

Great.

*****************************

Dinner is a quiet affair.

The kids are at Michaels for the weekend, so it's just Athena and Bobby, and Bobby, his wife notes worriedly, has barely said a word since he got home.

He's not even really eating, simply pushing his food around on the plate in front of him, clearly distracted by something.

"Bobby?" Athena reaches out across the table and holds his hand in hers, squeezing gently. "Is everything alright?"

Bobby blinks, seemingly shaken out of a daze. "Uh, yeah, yeah, all good." he says. And it is. Technically.

Athena purses her lips, squinting suspiciously and leaning forward. She hasn't been on the force for the better part of her life not to notice when her husband is hiding something--whether he means to or not. "Anything interesting happen at work today?" she continues to dig, curious now.

It's hard to come up with a lie under his wife's scrutinizing gaze, and he finds that he actually does want to share with Athena, and perhaps even unburden himself. "I--" he pauses, takes a breath. "It's nothing, really." he starts, hesitant. "Buck saved the day today."

Athena nods. Some gut instinct in her figured Buck had something to do with this--as often he did. "Yeah?" she asks, encouragingly, when it looks like Bobby might not be forthcoming with anymore information.

"Yeah," the fire Captain sighs. "It's stupid." he says, though he plows on. "I told him he did good, once we were back at the station and he uh, he thanked me, but he accidentally called me..." he clears his throat. "He called me 'Dad'."

"Oh." That, she can say for certain, was not at all what she had been expecting.

"The crew gathered around to poke fun," Bobby shrugs half heartedly, "The usual harmless hazing." he says. "But..."

Athena frowns. "Is he ok?"

Bobby blinks, surprised by the inquiry. "What? Uh, yeah, no, he's fine." Or at least, he had seemed fine. "I joined in, you know, teased him a little over it." he gulps, looking down and away suddenly. "He called me 'Dad'." he utters again, this time in stunned awe. "He called me 'Dad'." he rests a hand over his eyes and shudders, his dinner completely forgotten at this point.

"Oh Bobby." Athena can't begin to imagine what it must be like for her husband, the turmoil of emotions he must be feeling right now. "C'mere." she rounds the table and holds him in her arms, lets him weep against her. "It's alright."

***************************

The very next day on a warm Sunday night, Athena opens the door and greets Buck, who she's invited over for dinner. "Glad you could make it." she kisses his cheek, smiling up at the tall blonde. He looks nervous, she notes, and she can bet she can tell why without having to ask.

The last time she’d invited him over last minute and without telling Bobby had been the night Buck decided to sue the department. That dinner had been...a disaster. To say the least.

“Athena, hon, do you know where the--” Bobby stops mid sentence when he sees Buck stepping inside. “Buck?”

Buck tenses slightly upon realizing that Bobby hadn’t in fact, known that he would be coming over tonight. “Uh, hey Cap.” he waves weakly. Oh God, he thinks, ready to bolt, what now? Everything has been going so well lately. Perhaps too well.

Athena should have told Bobby that Buck would be a guest in their home this evening, but she’d figured if he knew it would only make him anxious, especially after his breakdown on Friday night. She hadn’t really thought this whole thing through, if she’s being honest with herself; of course this situation was bound to remind the two men of that awful night...

Realizing her mistake, Athena tries her best to think on her feet. But she must be getting rusty, because all she can come up with is, “Why don’t you two sit outside on the deck while I get dinner ready? It’s gonna be a minute.” she practically pushes them out of the house without letting either of them get another word in, closing the sliding door behind them and praying for the best.

************************

Buck and Bobby sit in uncomfortable silence for several minutes before Buck breaks, nervous as can be when he utters, “I’m sorry about Friday.” in one big breath, gulping when the fire Captain turns to stare at him in surprise.

“What?”

Buck scratches the back of his head and looks away, fidgeting. “Friday. I--when I called you ‘dad’, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I’m sure I made you uncomfortable.” Bobby doesn’t say a word, simply stares at him, unmoving, and it makes Buck anxious. “You’re just, you’re a really good Captain and I’ve always looked up to you and you--you care about me--my parents never really saw much when they looked at me, spare parts and all that, uh, so, I--you know,” Buck stutters out, embarrassed by the amount of word vomit coming up.

He’s always been bad with silence but certainly there’s something better he can do with it rather than fill it up by putting his heart right on his sleeve and baring it to Bobby. Jesus.

“Sorry, none of that’s your problem, just because I might see you as--in a certain way--that’s my problem, not yours. Sorry. Just, please ignore me.” Buck groans, putting his face in his palm to hide his humiliation.

Bobby clears his throat, the words, when he says them, coming out rough. “Buck, when you called me ‘dad’ that day, I thought my heart would stop--do you know how long it’s been since anyone called me that?”

Buck finally looks up, his face falling when he sees the tears pooling in Bobby’s eyes. “Cap, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I--”

Bobby’s got Buck enveloped in a strong, warm embrace before he can say anything more, rendering the man speechless. “I know I can be overbearing, overprotective, when it comes to you, I know that, and it’s not fair, and I’m sorry,” he says, squeezing Buck momentarily, feeling reassured by the way he goes lax in his arms, his head resting against Bobby’s shoulder. “I just--I can’t lose you, son. You’re so good, Buck, and I’m so proud of you, I need you to know that. I love you, kid.”

Buck tries to blink away his tears but they fall right down his cheeks and onto Bobby’s nice button up shirt, but he can’t bring himself to care as he leans closer, murmuring a soft, “Love you too, Dad.” against his shoulder.

#reblog #fic rec

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whumpkeys · 3 years

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The Diaz boys waking up Buck :)

3x01 // 4x14

#let buck sleep challenge 2k21 #911 #911 fox #evan buckley #eddie diaz #christopher diaz #i

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whumpkeys · 3 years

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the kitchen scene wouldn’t stop making me think of the one meme so

#jandhfjskdkjf #buddie #911 fox #lmaoooooo

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whumpkeys · 3 years

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Evan Buckley + Text Post Meme

#blood cw #911 #911 fox #evan buckley

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whumpkeys · 3 years

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#tony stark being … tony stark

#tony stark #key’s queue #gifset

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whumpkeys · 3 years

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buck picking up the diaz boys when they’re in danger

#whump #9 1 1 spoilers #911 fox spoilers #911 spoilers #911 #911 whump #ah yes #yeet him around like a sack of potatoes #totally a great idea #blood #tw blood

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whumpkeys · 3 years

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Criminal minds

Reid + Nightmares

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whumpkeys · 3 years

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prompt: Could I request another sick T.K. but pushing through the illness during work and maybe passing out? 🥰 your writing is incredible and I always check your page when I log in 😊😊

Carlos had been sick, picking up a small cold from another officer, but TK had insisted at the time that he didn’t care and still wanted to sleep with him, banking on a relatively strong immune system to keep the virus at bay; however, perhaps his immune system’s been compromised due to previous drug intake because he wakes for his shift two days after sleeping with Carlos to a throat that burns with each swallow and a headache that thumps softly against his temples.

Keep reading

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whumpkeys · 3 years

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I just saw a video, and that reminds me a really need someone to write a fanfiction where tarlos is on a ferris wheel and gets like stuck or something and TK is terrified of heights and freaking out because of his major anxiety and at first Carlos thinks it's funny but then he starts to feel really bad and like has to calm him down and he's like having a full on breakdown. Because that would be me and that's what I would want. I relate to TK and I need a Carlos

#later #to write #mayhaps #somebody poke me #i’m bored #dying #of #boredom

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whumpkeys · 3 years

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fans of characters that hate vulnerability will be like “i cant wait until they cry 😍 cant wait until the weight of their emotions breaks them 😍”

#👀

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whumpkeys · 3 years

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Blood Brothers (9-1-1 Lonestar Fic)

After an incident on a call leaves Carlos and Judd injured, TK has some guilt to look through. CW: Canon-typical violence, gun violence, drug mention.

It was a normal call. Or at least it was supposed to be. Dispatch had mentioned a simple car accident on the freeway with a possible missing kid. Nothing more, nothing less. They had found the kid and gotten four of the five people out of the cars with limited injuries and no deaths so far. The police were only really there for traffic control. Everything was going fine and overall, it was the kind of call that would no doubt be celebrated later with a night at the bar. Until Paul noticed something.

While Judd knew that he wasn’t as observant as Paul was, he was also far from oblivious. The sudden stiffening and look of concentration on Paul’s face betrays the fact that he had noticed something, though it wasn’t clear exactly what he’d noticed. It never was. Not until he did some fancy Sherlock Holmes type deduction and blew everyone away. Then it just seemed painfully obvious and left Judd with the thought that this is what Watson must feel like. A quick glance around reveals the fact that Judd isn’t the only one who’s noticed. Marjan and the probie were sharing a look of confusion and glee, clearly excited to see what it was that Paul had discovered.

Judd wasn’t immune to the lure of the trick either. Though he tries to remain outwardly uninterested, he still watches out of the corner of his eye as the other man approaches the truck, walking with purpose. Just as Paul’s about to make his first comment or ask his first question, something else catches Judd’s eye and he turns his head, recognizing the all-too-familiar glint as sunlight reflects off the long barrel of a shotgun. Judd follows it with his eyes, his heart stopping for a moment when he realizes who it was pointing at. TK wasn’t paying attention, of course, too busy chatting it up with his little cop boyfriend.

“Gun!” Judd’s shouting the warning almost immediately as he takes off towards the boy, knocking him to the ground just as the gun fires with a loud bang. The two of them land on the ground, Judd on top of TK, and he can only groan as TK shouts in surprise, asking what the hell was going on. Judd wants to answer. Really, he does. But just at that moment, the pain hits.

It’s a burning, searing pain that seems to spread out from his shoulder and throughout his entire body. He can hear somebody letting out a string of foul curses, ones that would get him smacked upside the head if Grace heard him saying, and it takes him a moment longer than it should for him to realize that it was him cussing up a storm and not some poor bystander. Judd tries to get up but his arms feel like Jell-O and refuse to follow his commands. All he can do is groan and hope he isn’t crushing poor TK under him.

As much as he liked to portray himself as this fearless, tough-guy cowboy, he was only human. He was susceptible to pain. And this shit? It hurt like a mother. Through the haze of pain and confusion, he can feel two people shifting him onto one of the stretchers. His arm moves at the same time that the pain spikes and a numb feeling shoots through his arm before making his entire body burn like it was on fire. He barely gets a strangled scream out before he's passing out on the stretcher.

~~~

Owen didn’t think he would ever be as scared as he had been when he found TK that night before moving to Austin. The stone-cold terror he’d felt when he’d found his son laying on the ground, cold as a corpse and not breathing, wasn’t something that was going to be easy to top. But the fear he feels when he sees the barrel of a gun pointed at him while he’s so clearly distracted definitely comes close.

“TK!” he yells, though it’s immediately drowned out by a louder shout, warning them about the gun. Owen freezes for just a moment, seeing a blur tackle TK to the ground just as the gun goes off. And that’s when everything goes to shit. Carlos is knocked aside in the commotion, his head hitting the edge of the truck and knocking him out, and TK himself doesn’t seem to come out unscathed despite what Owen is now considering divine intervention of some sort.

Owen forces himself forwards on unsteady legs, dropping to his knees beside the two. Michelle was already with Carlos, helping him to sit up and drink some water. For a moment, Owen’s convinced that he’s the only one who had seen this. The only one who knows what had happened. But his theory is quickly disproven when Paul and Marjan are there all of a sudden, helping him move Judd onto a stretcher. The cowboy was shouting out foul curses, causing most of the bystanders to cover their children's ears and look utterly scandalized. When he passes out, Owen finds that the silence is much worse.

TK hadn’t gotten up yet, which Owen was trying not to find concerning. He’s still laying on the pavement, curling up in the fetal position and not moving.“TK? TK, are you okay? TK!”

TK’s response is fairly quick and Owen just about sags in relief. “I’m fine. Just sore ribs. Think Judd broke ‘em. What was that all about anyway?” he asks, sitting up with one arm wrapped around his chest, a slight wince on his face.

Owen watches as the ambulance pulls away with Judd and Carlos inside and just shakes his head. “Come on. We’re going to the hospital.”

“Dad? It’s not that bad, seriously. I’m fine.”

“TK, it’s not for you.”

It takes a few seconds but the look on TK’s face when he finally realizes what had just happened makes Owen wish that he’d just invented some kind of elaborate lie or something to cover up the whole thing. He knew it was illogical but the urge to protect his son from any more hurt was there, overpowering any logic or rational thought. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

~~~

They arrive at the hospital shortly after. Despite what he’d been told, about the trip not being for him, his dad had still made him get checked out. The whole way to the hospital, he’d been hunched over with his arms wrapped around his chest and Owen had been understandably concerned. A few moments after arriving, he's diagnosed with cracked ribs. After being told about caring for his ribs, they head into the waiting room to find Carlos sitting in the corner with an ice pack to his head and a pink emesis bin in his lap. He glances up when the two walk in, giving TK a small, pained smile. TK immediately glances away.

From what he’d been told, this whole thing was his fault. If he had been paying attention to the call instead of hanging out with his boyfriend when they were both working, then he would have seen the gun. He would have ducked or moved or done something other than just stand there like a lovesick dork. Judd wouldn’t be in surgery. Carlos wouldn’t be sitting there in obvious pain.

TK knew he had a bad habit of internalizing things and blaming himself. His dad told him practically every time it happened. But in this case, he was certain that it was his fault. How could it not be? He had been standing there, flirting with his boyfriend while everyone else was working hard. Judd had been right, he was slacking. And now he was paying the price for TK’s mistake.

Before he even has a chance to try and stop it, a strangled sob escapes him, and just like that, the dam he’d oh so carefully constructed breaks. He sits there, in the cold, cramped hospital chair, with his legs pulled up to his chest and his face buried in his knees as loud sobs wracked his body. The fabric on his knees is getting wet with his tears but he can’t bring himself to care. With everything else happening, it doesn’t seem to matter that much. He feels somebody’s arm wrap around him, pulling him into their side with a quiet, “Oh, TK.”

He recognizes his dad’s voice and the feeling of his chest. Briefly, he’s reminded of the time when he was a kid and he’d had a nightmare. He’d stood over his dad’s bed for nearly ten minutes before Owen had woken up. His dad had later told him that he’d scared the shit out of him. But after that, he’d just hugged him and held him close. He had rubbed his hair like he was doing now and he’d told him that everything was going to be okay. That whatever had happened was just a dream and it couldn’t hurt him. The mantra was different today. Today, his dad was assuring him that what happened wasn’t his fault. “Everything will be okay. It wasn’t your fault, TK, these things happen. Judd’s gonna be fine. Carlos is—”

“I’m fine,” Carlos pipes up, though his voice is tinged with hurt. TK can’t tell if it’s from the concussion or TK ignoring him. Either way, he had caused it. It was his fault.

“Tyler Kennedy, you listen to me.” TK hadn’t realized he had been speaking out loud. “This was not your fault. Okay?”

“But Carlos got— and Judd he—”

“They’re fine, TK. Right now, I’m more worried about you.” Owen lowers his voice, leaning in closer to his son. “How are you feeling? Any… urges?”

TK sighs, rolling his eyes and looking up at his dad. “I’m not a werewolf, you know, and I’m not made of glass either. I’m not gonna- I’m not going to OD again, okay? That was… it was a one-time thing. Not every issue is going to break me, okay? Okay, dad?”

“I know,” Owen tells him, a small smile on his face. “I know. I’m just worried, okay?”

“Yeah, well you don’t have to be.”

“It’s kind of my job, TK.”

TK feels a small spark of inexplicable anger appear. “No, your <i>job</i> is to save people.”

“Not as a firefighter, TK, as your dad.”

TK’s quiet for a moment. Just like that, the spark is gone and another sob leaves him. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, you have nothing to be sorry for,” Owen assures him, rubbing small circles into his son’s back. TK just nods, too busy trying to hold back the sobs and tears that threatened to overspill. By now, Paul, Marjan, and Matéo had returned from taking the truck back for the next shift and were just sitting awkwardly in the chairs beside Carlos.

When Paul catches the captain's eye, he mouths something that Owen takes for meaning, ‘Is he okay?’ Owen hesitates, looking down at where TK was sitting, practically in his lap with his head buried in his chest. He nods. TK might not be completely okay right now, but he would be. Owen knew that. If his son was anything, he was resilient.

Owen glances up at the sound of footsteps, relieved to see the doctor approaching. He knows the exact moment that TK notices, shifting and accidentally elbowing Owen in the chest. “Oomph!”

“Sorry,” TK’s quick to apologize but pays his dad no heed as he looks over at the doctor, a tall blond man. “How is he? Is he okay?”

The doctor opens his mouth to say something when Paul pipes up. “Relax, TK, he’s fine. Doc’s relaxed.”

“Wel—”

“Plus, Judd’s a fighter. He’ll be fine in no time.”

“May I—”

“Wait, did anyone call his wife?”

“If I can—”

“Yeah, I called her earlier. You know, she’s actually really nice. She invited us for dinner this weekend.”

“Guys,” Owen says, holding up a hand. “Let the man speak.”

The doctor sends him a thankful look and adjusts his clipboard as he clears his throat. “Thank you, Captain. Mr. Ryder’s going to be just fine. He’s lost a bit of blood but we were able to remove the bullet without much difficulty at all. He’s awake and ready for visitors. If you would like to see him, somebody can go in now. He’s been asking for his little brother?”

As soon as the doctor’s finished speaking, Owen looks down at his son. “That’s you. Go see him, make sure he’s not giving the nurses a hard time.” TK hesitates before shaking his head slightly and pulling his phone out as if he got a text. “I uh- actually, I have to go. Meeting a friend.”

Before anyone can protest, he’s out of there, taking off like a bat out of hell. Owen sighs, standing up. “Guess, that’s me then.” As he heads for Judd’s room, he hears Mateo comment on TK leaving to see a friend instead of visiting his brother. Marjan smacks him upside the head and calls him an idiot before Owen can say anything. He’d talk to TK later, make sure he’s okay.

Nobody, not even Paul, notices Carlos slipping away.

~~~

As soon as he’s out of the hospital, TK breaks down completely. He slides down one of the large white pillars and buries his face in his arms as he cries. Loud sobs wrack his entire body as he struggles to get a breath in without choking on it. He can practically feel everyone staring at him, watching as he loses it right there on the pavement. TK can only imagine the sight he makes. He was still in his turnout gear minus his helmet, which was probably still in the waiting room with his dad, and definitely looked the part of a badass firefighter. And here he was, sobbing like a child.

Too focused on dwelling on his own mistakes and trying to get a breath in, TK doesn’t notice somebody sitting down beside him until there’s a sharp inhale from the spot to his left. “It’s bright out, huh?” TK freezes, recognizing his boyfriend’s voice. He looks up slowly, trying to wipe the tears away with the back of his hand. They just keep coming.

“What are you doing here?”

“Come on, TK. I know you. And I know that you’re taking this hard. It’s not your fault. You know that, right?”

TK shakes his head. “That’s not— I wasn’t doing my job. I was just standing around, talking to <i>you</i>. I was distracted.”

“Everyone was standing around, there wasn’t much to do. You did nothing wrong. Please tell me you understand that,” Carlos says, an arm around his shoulders as he pulls TK into an awkward, half hug. TK just laughs bitterly and shakes his head again. Carlos frowns and decides to try another tactic. “What, you’re not going to ask how I’m feeling?”

TK looks up at him, the slightest hint of a smile on his face. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I just won a steak-eating contest.”

“Nauseous?”

“Yeah. Doc says I have a concussion. Nothing serious though.”

TK nods. “Good. Look… I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

“TK, you have nothing to apologize for,” he tells him with a smile, squeezing him against his chest. “What happened was an accident. I know it doesn’t help much but it’s not your fault.”

“I know, it’s just…” TK shakes his head. “Nevermind.”

Carlos frowns but decides not to say anything for now. “Come on, Tiger. Let’s go see Judd. I heard he’s giving the doctors a hard time.”

This time, TK doesn’t protest as he’s led back towards the hospital.

~~~

“Where’s the kid?”

Standing at the end of Judd’s hospital bed, Owen got the strange feeling that he was at his judgment day. Judd didn’t look like he’d even been shot. If it weren’t for the bandage wrapped around his shoulder and the stark white hospital sheets, he could have just been laying in bed. He wasn’t wearing a hospital gown either, something the captain found fairly odd but not important enough to mention.

“He… had to leave. Had a date with a friend,” Owen tells him. They both knew he was lying.

“He’s blaming himself, ain’t he?” Judd asks, groaning slightly as he props himself up on his elbows and looks over. Owen just nods. “Fuck, knew he would. He’s okay though, right?”

Owen nods again. “Yeah, he’s fine. A couple of cracked ribs but he’ll be fine. How are you feeling?”

“Like I’m floating on cloud nine, Cap. Think they gave me the good stuff,” he responds with a shit-eating grin.

Owen laughs. “I don’t doubt it.”

There’s a moment of quiet as the mood slowly shifts and Judd looks up. “Any idea where he is?”

Owen shakes his head. They both knew who Judd was referring to. “I don’t know. He told me he wouldn’t be…” he trails off with a shake of his head. “But I don’t know.”

“Yeah, well, he’ll be fine. What happened out there?”

“Paul found cocaine. A ton of it. The guy didn’t want anyone finding out, I guess.”

“Whew-”

“What, no ‘welcome to Texas’?”

Judd shakes his head. “This ain’t Texas shit, Cap. That’s some LA shit.”

“Yeah.”

Though the silence between the two had never been awkward before, it was now rife with tension. Owen wasn’t too sure what to say. He knew TK wouldn’t appreciate him telling Judd about their earlier talk but right now, he was considering telling Judd their entire life story just to have something to talk about. Thankfully, by some sort of miracle, he’s stopped from oversharing by the door opening and a light cough from the doorway.

Owen turns around immediately to see TK and Carlos standing there in the doorway. Carlos’s arm is wrapped around TK’s shoulders in a protective gesture and the police officer is giving them both a look that dares them to try anything. TK, for his part, was just standing there with his eyes on his shoes and his arms wrapped around his chest as if he could hold himself together just like that.

Nobody says anything for a few moments before Carlos nudges TK, prompting a slight glare at the other man and a quiet, “Hey.”

“Howdy, kid. Nice of you to drop by,” Judd responds, not missing a beat. Despite how withdrawn and hesitant TK was at the moment, Judd was acting as if they were just hanging around the fire station. And for that, Owen was grateful. TK hated any kind of pity or sympathy or anything like that. And while Judd wasn’t the type to pity people, Owen knew that his son would definitely interpret any difference in behavior as such.

TK doesn’t respond, leaving them with yet another awkward silence. It takes Owen a moment to see the look Judd was giving him, too busy watching his son with obvious worry. Judd clears his throat and Owen gets the sense that he was tired of waiting for him to catch on. “Hey, Cap, why don’t you and Reyes go call Grace or something?”

The dismissal was anything except subtle but it got the job done. Carlos seems to snap out of whatever protective trance he was in and nods. “Right… yeah. Uh- see you later, TK?” TK just nods, still not looking up from his shoes.

With one last lingering glance at his son, Owen follows Carlos out of the hospital room and back to the rest of the crew.

~~~

Judd doesn’t say anything as he watches the kid in the doorway. His posture and expression screams guilt and Judd knows that whatever he’s thinking about was eating at him. He shakes his head. “Am I gonna be receiving an invite to this pity party or is it one of them private affairs?”

TK glances up at that, a hint of a glare on his face as he looks towards Judd. It’s lacking any heat, though, and seemed more instinctual than anything. Judd sighs. “Come on, kid. What’s eating at you?”

There’s another brief moment of silence as TK seems to gather his words before speaking. “You got shot.”

Judd raises a brow. “Believe me, brother, I know.”

“No— you got shot because I wasn’t paying attention. I was flirting with Carlos. Flirting! At work. And you were— you—”

As he speaks, TK starts to pace back and forth across the room and Judd holds up a hand, stopping him in his tracks. “First of all, you’re making me dizzy. Second, this kind of shit happens. It could have happened to anyone. Probie, Marwani, your dad. Hell, even me. You know how many times I’ve tried flirting with Grace over the radio?” TK shakes his head. “Too many times.”

Judd pauses for a moment, just to get a sense of where they were, and then launches into the seemingly endless story of how he’d flirted with Grace over the radio, got himself smacked upside the head by his captain, and sent to the couch for the night by Grace, and almost drowned as a direct result from the incident. Partway through the story, TK migrates over to the hard plastic chair beside Judd’s bed and by the time he reaches the part about the couch, TK’s fast asleep with his head on the bed. Judd doesn’t stop talking just yet, continuing the story as TK lays there, his head laying on his folded arms.

He doesn’t reach the drowning part before he’s dozing off beside the kid, confident that they’d be alright.

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