#caretaker tk

[1heartfanfics]

T.K. has never actually seen Carlos sick. He's seen him injured, panicking, grieving, hell even dead (briefly). But in all the years of their relationship Carlos has never been truly ill. Now T.K. on the other hand, has been sick like a million times throughout his relationship. He's always had a useless immune system, but ever since the hypothermia incident it's been even worse, just like they warned him it would be.

But he knows Carlos. So T.K. knows after one look at Carlos, that he's sick.

He'd heard the door open behind him while he was heating up a cup of tea. "Hey babe, I'm just making some tea, you want some?" he'd called over his shoulder.

When Carlos didn't answer he set the tea down and turned around. Carlos was standing just inside the front door. But he was pale, contrasted by the dark circles under his eyes, and had a sheen of sweat on his forehead matting his curls down.

T.K. quickly moved around the counter and to his boyfriend's side. Carlos seemed frozen in place, keys still in hand and his work bag still slung over his shoulder. T.K. gently took both from him, setting them on the floor.

"Carlos? Hey, you with me baby?" T.K. asked, placing a hand on Carlos's waist.

"Hmm?" Carlos responded.

"Let's get you sitting down okay?" T.K. wrapped one arm around Carlos's back, grabbing his elbow with his other hand to lead him over to the couch. He pulled down on Carlos's hip gently until he was sitting, then moved to sit on the coffee table in front of him.

"Hey," he said, leaning forward to place both hands on Carlos's legs.

"Hey," Carlos repeated quietly, his eyes seeming to focus on T.K. for the first time.

"How long have you not been feeling good?" T.K. asked.

Carlos sighed, then shrugged, "Since lunch maybe? Kept getting worse."

T.K. sighed too. Carlos had worked all day like this instead of calling out sick or even calling him.

"Can you tell me what's bothering you?" T.K. asked, going into paramedic mode without even thinking about it.

"Head, stomach," Carlos shrugged.

"Are you nauseous?" T.K. asked, knowing that could be the most immediate problem.

Carlos shrugged again, "Kinda. Threw up at the station before I left."

T.K. sighed. Why hadn't Carlos called him? He never should have driven home in this state. Now wasn't the time though, he needed to get his boyfriend taken care of before he started belaboring him.

Carlos shivered, folding his arms across his chest and curling in on himself slightly.

"Are you cold?" T.K. asked, reaching forward to feel Carlos's forehead for a fever he already knew was there.

"Mmhmm," Carlos hummed, leaning into T.K.'s hand as his eyes slipped shut.

T.K. moved his hand down to Carlos's cheek, which radiated warmth, letting it rest there for a moment before dropping.

"I'm gonna go get you some medicine and stuff okay? I'll be right back," T.K. said, giving Carlos's knee a squeeze as he got up.

He returned a couple minutes later with a glass of water, two ibuprofen, and a change of clothes.

"Here, take these," he said, holding out the water in one hand and the pills in the other. Carlos held out his hand for T.K. to drop the pills into, then slowly took the water with a shaky hand. He wordlessly popped the pills into his mouth and swallowed them with the worlds smallest sip of water.

"Think you could take a few more sips of that?" T.K. asked as Carlos tried to hand the glass back to him. Carlos was far too pale and too out of it for T.K.'s liking. His paramedic brain knew that Carlos was dehydrated.

Carlos didn't answer, but took two more careful, small, sips of water. It would have to do. T.K. accepted the glass from him and set it on the coffee table beside him.

"Alright, now let's get you out of this uniform, yeah?" T.K. said, showing Carlos the pair of sweatpants and t-shirt he'd grabbed.

Carlos just stared at him blankly.

“You want me to help you?” T.K. asked hesitantly. Normally Carlos was so stoic, preferring to keep things to himself and do everything himself, so it felt weird to see him so helpless. But Carlos nodded, to T.K.’s surprise.

“Okay,” T.K. reached forward to unbutton Carlos’s uniform top, then pulled it down his arms and tossed it on the floor. He helped him into a worn AFD t-shirt, then unbuttoned and unzipped his pants.

T.K. stood up, holding his hands out to Carlos, who took them and let himself be helped to his feet. Carlos stayed quiet while T.K. pulled his uniform pants down off his legs.

"Lift a foot up babe," T.K. instructed. Carlos did as he was told, lifting up one foot, then the other, so T.K. could remove his work pants and slide the sweats on instead. T.K. pulled the sweats up Carlos's legs and settled them on his hips.

"Little more comfy?" he asked as they both sat back down.

Carlos just nodded.

T.K. sighed softly. Carlos got like this sometimes, when he was sad or worried about something he'd kind of shut down or freeze up. Apparently it happened when he was sick too.

"Do you want to lay down baby? We could put on a movie, or we could go to bed if you'd rather just sleep," T.K. suggested, now that Carlos was at least comfortable and medicated.

"We can watch a movie," Carlos answered, shrugging.

"Okay. Any requests?" T.K. asked, reaching for the remote.

Carlos shrugged again, but it didn't matter. T.K. knew what Carlos's comfort movie was; Moana. So he put that on, then moved to sit next to Carlos on the couch.

"Come here sweetheart," T.K. said, holding his arms out. Carlos wordlessly shifted himself to lay down in his boyfriend's lap. "There we go," T.K. said quietly, reaching behind him to grab his throw blanket and drape it over Carlos. He rested one arm over Carlos's waist, his other hand moving to run through Carlos's hair.

They watched the movie quietly for a while before Carlos shifted to look up at T.K.

"You okay?" T.K. asked, glancing down at him with worry.

"Thank you for taking care of me," Carlos said, tears welling in his eyes.

"Oh, baby, of course. I love you. I'll always take care of you," T.K. said, cupping Carlos's cheek in his hand, using his thumb to wipe away the stray tears that fell.

Carlos nodded, "I love you too."

"You know you could've texted or called me earlier? If you're not feeling good all you have to do is let me know and I'll come get you or whatever you need," T.K. continued.

"I know, I'm sorry," Carlos responded, averting his eyes.

"Hey," T.K. gently turned Carlos's face back toward him until Carlos met his eyes again, "It's okay. I know you're used to taking care of yourself. I just want you to know that you don't have to anymore okay?"

"Okay," Carlos said shakily, bringing a hand up to swipe at his watering eyes. T.K. had always been able to see right through him. And Carlos knew that T.K. was right, he wasn't alone anymore. A couple years ago if he'd been sick like this he would've just powered through. But now? Now he had someone to take care of him, who was happy to do so. Carlos had never felt so loved.

[detective-giggles]

Comfortember prompts: Cold & Falling Asleep on Someone

Words: 931

Just a little Tarlos ficlet. @chaotictarlos thank you for letting me invade your messages over this fic! 😘

***

Carlos groans when he wakes up and realizes TK’s arms aren’t around him. Everything hurts, and he’s freezing. He rolls over and whines pitifully, trying desperately to burrow into TK’s space and absorb as much body heat as he possibly can.

TK lets out a soft chuckle as he stirs and pulls Carlos in for a snuggle, but he recoils almost immediately. TK puts his hand on Carlos’ cheek, then his forehead then sighs with sympathy as he pushes Carlos’ sweaty curls off his forehead. “Oh my god, baby, you’re burning up.”

“I feel terrible,” Carlos croaks. “My throat hurts.”

“Okay,” TK says, pushing himself out of bed. “Gimme a few minutes to get some things, and I’ll be back.”

“‘Kay,” mumbling, Carlos slides into the spot TK just vacated. He lays there shivering until TK returns a few minutes later, his arms full.

“I’ve called your doctor to get you an appointment,” he says. “There’s a nasty strep infection going around, and you’ll need antibiotics.” As TK talks, he takes Carlos’ temperature, frowning as it reads higher than he’d like. “Sit up for me; take these. They’ll help with your fever.”

Carlos pouts but complies, taking the Tylenol that TK offers him. “I’ll be okay,” he says. “I just need some extra rest.” Carlos flops back against the pillows and sighs, pulling the covers over his head.

“And maybe some tea with honey?”

Carlos pulls the covers down and stares at TK, “you brought me tea with honey?”

“I did,” TK says. “You’ll have to sit up again, though.”

Carlos grumbles but shifts and lets TK fuss, fluffing his pillows and propping them against the headboard before he leans against them and TK hands him his drink. “I’m going to be a terrible patient,” Carlos warns him.

TK chuckles fondly, “I think I can handle you. If not, I’ve discovered I can tame you with tea.” He watches as Carlos sips his drink slowly.

“Tea with honey,” Carlos corrects.

“Tea with honey,” TK smiles. “And I’ve already texted your mom for her soup recipe. The one you like when you’re sick?”

Carlos smiles bashfully, “you’d do that for me? That soup has to simmer for hours.”

“You would do the same for me.” TK presses a kiss to the top of his head. “I’m gonna shower, finish your drink, and then we’ll get ready to go.”

Carlos hums in agreement and watches TK disappear into the bathroom. He finishes his tea before getting up and starting the chore of getting dressed. It’s incredible how much effort even the simplest tasks take when you’re under the weather, Carlos realizes. While getting dressed, he has to stop twice to sit on the edge of the bed, and that’s where TK finds him with his socks still in his hand.

“Can I help you?” TK asks.

“I can dress myself,” Carlos insists, though he makes no effort to do so.

“I know, baby,” TK leans against the dresser and sticks his hands in his pockets, waiting for Carlos to finish getting ready. He does, grumbling the whole time, then stands. “Come on,” TK slips his arm around Carlos and leads him to the door.

Two hours, a throat swab, and a Z-pack later, Carlos collapses into bed, exhausted.

“Get some rest,” TK says, tucking the covers around Carlos. He closes his eyes and mumbles something unintelligible as he pulls the covers to his chin. He vaguely remembers hearing someone knock on the door; TK gives him a little kiss and then is gone, as Carlos drifts off to sleep.

***

Carlos wakes slowly and groans. He’s not quite sure how long he’s been asleep, but the sun is low enough in the sky, the room is basked in an orange glow. He’s still cold, and he’s still achy- even more so now that he’s laid in bed far longer than he’s used to.

He can already smell the soup on the stove, the ultimate comfort food, it smells like his childhood, and he slips out of bed. Grabbing the comforter, he wraps it around himself and makes his way toward the living room.

Carlos pauses just outside the bedroom door. He can hear voices in the kitchen, and he shuffles around the corner and rests his head on TK’s shoulder.

“Hey babe, you hungry?” TK asks gently. Carlos shakes his head, and Andrea clucks her tongue.

“Think again. He spent all afternoon at the stove making that for you. It’s perfect.”

TK lets out a little snort. “It’s not perfect. It’s too salty.”

“It’s perfect,” Andrea insists. She wraps both boys in a hug and presses a kiss to both of their foreheads. She makes them promise to call her if they need anything before trying to leave. TK offers to walk her out, but she declines, telling him to stay and watch over Carlos, and she lets herself out.

TK ushers Carlos to the couch, where he struggles to get comfortable, and then brings over two bowls of soup. TK thinks about turning on the TV to watch some cheesy movie they’ve both seen a million times, but they opt for a comfortable silence instead.

“The soup’s good,” Carlos says finally.

“It’s salty,” TK sighs, placing both empty bowls on the coffee table.

“It’s not. It’s good,” he insists.

“You should rest some more. Let’s get you back to bed.”

Carlos shakes his head. “Not tired,” he says, although his yawn gives him away. He settles heavily against TK, who holds him tightly, and in a few minutes, he’s out like a light.

[1heartfanfics]

Okay this is super self-indulgent and loosely based on a video I saw of a girl with her sick boyfriend. Not NSFW but more kink than I usually write for fandom stuff.

This is the longest thing I've written in a while so there's that.

TW: depictions of vomit

"Hey Dad, can I have a sec before we head back?" T.K. asked as the crew all headed toward the truck now that the scene had been wrapped up.

Owen followed his sons gaze and saw Carlos standing off by himself, one hand braced on his patrol car.

"Yeah, just try to make it quick okay?" Owen agreed, understanding that TK needed to go check on his boyfriend.

TK nodded and jogged away from the truck toward Carlos. He had known something was up with Carlos since the moment they arrived on scene. Carlos had been on crowd control, making sure the gathering of people stayed back. But he was moving sluggishly, slightly hunched over himself unlike his usual tall and confident posture.

"Baby?" he called as he got close to Carlos, "You feeling okay?" he asked.

"No." Carlos answered shortly, taking TK by surprise. He had fully expected to have a pointless back and forth where Carlos insisted he was fine even though there was obviously something wrong. His voice sounded weird, choked up almost.

"Hey, what's going on?" TK asked, moving closer to rest a hand on Carlos's hip.

Instead of answering Carlos leaned forward with a wet belch that morphed into a heave, bringing up a wave of vomit onto the pavement.

"Woah, okay," TK muttered, taken by surprise again. That was definitely not what he was expecting. "Alright, easy babe, I've got you," TK said, moving to stand slightly behind Carlos, rubbing a hand gently up and down his back over the uniform.

Carlos coughed and spit into the pile of sick on the ground, then slowly straightened up. His face was pale and there were dark circles under his eyes, forehead damp with sweat now. Carlos's eyes were wide, glancing around nervously. TK knew he was worried about all of the prying eyes of both their teams and the bystanders.

"Hey, come here, it's okay," TK said quickly, turning Carlos to face him by the hand on his hip and wrapping an arm around his back. Carlos leaned into him, pressing his face into TK's shoulder.

"Baby what happened?" TK asked quietly.

Carlos shrugged, "Woke up with an upset stomach but got super nauseous when we got to this call," he mumbled, voice muffled against TK's uniform.

Carlos's partner, Grace, walked around the other side of their patrol car to face TK. "Go home Reyes, I'll take care of the reports," she said, reaching out to give him a pat on the shoulder.

"Thank you," Carlos responded weakly.

"I don't think he's felt well all day," Grace added, to TK this time. Then she nodded her head towards the firetruck, giving TK a questioning look. TK nodded, confirming. She gave them a sympathetic smile then headed around to the drivers side of the patrol car and got in.

"Come on babe, let's get you home," TK said, keeping his arm around Carlos's waist as he pulled slightly away from the hug.

"Where-? What are-?" Carlos asked, confused as TK began to lead him away from his patrol car and toward the firetruck.

"You're gonna come back to the station with me and lay down in the bunks until I can take you home," TK answered.

Owen, who'd been watching them from the passenger seat of the truck, had understood TK's plan and let the crew know. They silently rearranged themselves to leave two open seats right next to each other as TK helped Carlos climb into the truck.

"Right here man," Paul said, patting the open seat across from him. Carlos gave him a strained smile as TK climbed in behind him and shut the door, taking the seat next to Carlos. He was thankful that the crew had given them the foreward facing seats. Riding backwards can be a little nauseating when you aren't used to it and probably wouldn't have done any favors for Carlos's stomach.

"Everybody set?" Judd asked over the headset from the front seat.

"All set," Paul answered.

As the engine lurched forward, turning sharply to head back to the station, TK felt Carlos stiffen next to him. Carlos brought a hand up to rest on his stomach and his face went a shade paler.

"Hey, you gonna be okay?" TK asked, leaning close to Carlos so he could hear him over the engine. Carlos nodded slightly, but fumbled for TK's hand. "I'm right here," TK said, taking Carlos's hand and resting their joined hands on Carlos's thigh.

"Is he gonna make it?" Paul asked over the headset.

"He looks like he's about to hurl again," Mateo added.

"Both of you shut up, you're not helping," Marjan scolded them.

TK gave Marjan a grateful look, thankful for her stopping the commentary. Although Carlos probably couldn't hear them, since it was loud and he didn't have a headset on, TK could, and he needed to focus on taking care of Carlos.

"TK, we'll be there in a few," Judd said.

"Hey, just breath through it babe. In through your nose, out through your mouth," TK instructed, squeezing Carlos's hand. "Judd says we're almost there," he added.

"TK I don't-" Carlos pressed a hand to his lips, cutting himself off.

"Dude he's totally about to puke," Mateo laughed.

"Shut up!" Marjan hissed, elbowing Mateo in the ribs.

"Try to hold on just a little bit longer baby. But if you need to be sick it's alright, I'm right here," TK said, cringing as he remembered he was on headset and his whole crew could hear him.

"Ay TK he wouldn't be the first person to throw up in here," Paul said, giving them a sympathetic look.

This was true. The rig wasn't exactly a smooth ride, which had a tendency to cause motion sickness until you got used to it. Especially if you were hungover or something to begin with. And especially if you were riding backward. While TK had never been sick in this rig, he had thrown up in the rig back in New York once when he was riding backward with an impending migraine.

"TK? I'm assuming Carlos is off duty for the day?" Owen asked over the headset.

"Yeah, his partner told him to go home and that she'd take care of everything," TK answered, draping his arm around Carlos's shoulders and rubbing up and down his arm.

"Just get out of here and get him home then okay? You're dismissed for the day," Owen said over the headset, turning to give TK a nod.

"Thanks Dad," TK said, giving Owen a grateful smile.

Thankfully Carlos managed to make it back to the station. The rig parked in the bay with a lurch, making Carlos draw in a breath. Carlos pressed his face into TK's shoulder.

"We're at the station baby, you're alright," TK soothed, pressing a kiss into Carlos's hair. At this point he didn't care that his team was watching and listening to him, he just needed to make sure Carlos was taken care of.

"All clear," Judd said over the headset, indicating that the rig was in park and they were safe to get out.

Paul jumped up and opened the door, "Y'all go ahead," he said, nodding to TK.

TK nodded, hanging his headset up above his seat and undoing his lap belt, before reaching over Carlos to undo his as well. He stood up and held his hands out. Carlos took his hands, letting TK pull him toward the door. TK stepped down backward then helped Carlos down out of the rig.

"How's your stomach? Better on solid ground or do we need to head to the bathroom?" TK asked, pulling Carlos a few steps away from the rig to allow his team to get out and start getting cleaned up.

"Better, I think," Carlos said. He no longer looked quite as green. Plus, Carlos did have a tendency to get carsick when he wasn't driving. But he was also in no shape to drive himself.

"Alright, let's get you laying down in my bunk while I get changed okay?" TK said, wrapping an arm around Carlos's waist. He led Carlos through the bay and up the stairs to the bunkroom.

"You're still on shift?" Carlos said, although it came out as a question.

"Dad said I could go home for the day," TK said, leading Carlos over to his bunk.

"Here, sit for a second, I'll be right back" TK said. Carlos sat at the edge of the bed while TK walked to the far end of the room to grab the trash can and bring it over, setting it next to Carlos. "Just in case," he said, giving Carlos a sad smile.

Carlos nodded, he no longer felt like he was in immediate danger of throwing up, but his stomach still felt pretty sour and queasy.

"Let's get you a little more comfy so you can lay down for a sec," TK said, crouching down in front of him. He unbuckled Carlos's utility belt, setting it on the end table next to the bunk. Then he undid Carlos's regular belt and pulled it out before setting it down on the table as well. TK unbuttoned his uniform top, pulling it down off Carlos's arms to leave him in just an undershirt and his uniform pants. Lastly, he pulled Carlos's shoes off his feet, leaving them on the floor at the edge of the bed.

"Better?" TK asked.

Carlos nodded, it did feel better not to have his gear and full uniform on. He realized though that TK was still in his full turnouts, which couldn't be comfortable. He must be burning up.

"M'okay, you can go change," Carlos said.

"I will. Why don't you lay down," TK nodded, patting the bed.

Carlos laid down on his side as TK moved the trash can to set it on the floor next to the bunk, just in case. TK pulled the blanket he kept on his bunk up over Carlos then leaned down to kiss his cheek.

"Alright, I'm gonna go change and get cleaned up real quick and then we'll go home. The crew might be in and out of here but no one will bother you, I promise," TK said. Carlos nodded in acknowledgement, so TK squeezed his shoulder then stood, heading out toward the locker room.

"Hey, how's he doing?" Paul asked as TK walked over to his locker, stepping out of his turnouts.

"He's doing alright, laying down in my bunk while I get ready to go," TK answered.

"Well tell him we hope he feels better," Marjan called from across the room.

"Thanks guys," TK said, stripping down to his undershirt and boxers before heading into the showers. He quickly hosed off and got dressed in the t-shirt and joggers he'd brought in his duffle today. Then he headed back to the bunkroom.

Carlos was laying exactly as TK had left him, scrolling on his phone. The trash can, thankfully, was unused.

"Hey," TK said, crouching down in front of Carlos. "You ready to go?" he asked.

Carlos nodded, pushing himself up slowly. TK put Carlos's shoes back on, then grabbed his uniform and gear from off of the end table and shoved them into his bag with his own stuff.

TK stood up, tossing the duffle bag over his shoulder before holding a hand out to Carlos, pulling him to his feet. With a hand on the small of his back, TK led Carlos back down the stairs and through the station. They left through the bay doors, a shortcut to the parking lot, and walked to TK's car. TK helped Carlos into the passenger seat and headed toward home.

"Doing okay?" TK asked as he drove, glancing over at Carlos, who was slumped against the door, head leaned against the window.

Carlos hummed noncommittally in response, which told TK that maybe he was feeling nauseous again. Although the ride was a lot smoother than the back of the rig, the motion might be bothering his already sick stomach.

"We'll be home in a few minutes baby, just keep breathing," TK said, reaching over to gently squeeze Carlos's knee.

TK parked in front of their townhouse and got out, moving around to the passenger side to open Carlos's door and help him out of the car. He quickly grabbed his duffle bag from the backseat and then took Carlos's hand, leading him toward their home.

They were only a few feet away from the door when Carlos suddenly stopped.

"TK-" Carlos said, his voice breaking. When TK turned, Carlos was frozen mid-step, one hand pressed to his stomach and the other hovering over his mouth.

"It's okay," TK said, moving to stand slightly behind Carlos to rub his back. That was all the permission Carlos's body needed, pitching forward with a retch to vomit into the grass in front of their house.

"Easy love, you're alright," TK soothed, rubbing up and down Carlos's back over his white tee, which was now damp with sweat.

Once Carlos was finished, he straightened up slowly, leaning against TK's side. He was exhausted.

"Come on, let's get you inside. Just a few more steps," TK said softly, ushering Carlos the last few feet and letting them inside. He helped Carlos lay down on the couch, covering him with a blanket before sitting down on the coffee table across from him.

"Think you could drink a little bit of water?" TK asked, brushing Carlos's hair off of his forehead. Carlos shook his head quickly, face paling visibly at the thought of putting anything into his stomach.

"Okay, we'll try later then. You want to watch something?" TK said, reaching over to grab the remote.

"Moana?" Carlos asked quietly. TK smiled, chuckling softly as he went to disney plus and started playing Moana. Disney movies were Carlos's guilty pleasure, and were always his go-to when he was sick or after a rough day.

"Alright, there we go. You need anything else?" TK asked.

"Just stay?" Carlos said, looking up at TK with sad eyes.

"Of course baby, I'm not going anywhere," TK said. He crawled over Carlos to lay behind him, draping an arm over Carlos's waist. "I'll always stay."

[1heartfanfics]

Carlos PTSD fic as promised. *S4 spoilers*

-Set right after Carlos is held hostage and almost killed in S4E4 "Abandoned"-

"Hey baby," T.K. said as he stepped inside their loft.

Carlos, who was sitting on one end of the couch, gave T.K. a forced smile, but didn't respond.

"How are you?" T.K. asked, even though he already knew the answer. Carlos shrugged.

Sighing, T.K. took off his coat and his shoes, setting his bag down on the floor before joining Carlos on the couch. Carlos was staring down at his lap, looking small somehow.

"Hey," T.K. said, ducking his head to try and meet his lovers eyes. When he was unsuccessful, he reached out to touch Carlos's cheek, gently turning his face toward his own.

"Hey," Carlos whispered back, eyes were wet with unshed tears.

"Oh baby," T.K. sighed, his heart hurting, "Rough day?" he asked.

"No. That's the stupid thing," Carlos said, turning away from T.K. The tears had started to slip down his cheeks, but he sounded frustrated.

"What do you mean baby?" T.K. asked, confused.

"I had a good day. I took a walk and ate two whole meals and did some laundry. Like a normal person. But then it got dark and you were just a little bit late and now I'm fucking crying," Carlos explained, letting out a sound that was something between a forced laugh and a sob.

"You can have good days that aren't all good," T.K. told him, taking one of Carlos's hands in his.

"I just feel so stupid," Carlos said, swiping angrily at the tears on his face.

"Hey," T.K. said softly, "Be kind to yourself. Recovery isn't linear, and it looks different for everyone. You are entitled to feel however it is you feel whenever you feel it," he continued.

Carlos sighed, slumping back into the corner of the couch. He looked so small again, all of the anger and frustration seeming to have left him, replaced by exhaustion.

"Why don't we go to bed?" T.K. suggested, feeling pretty tired himself after a long day on shift.

But this was apparently the wrong thing to say as Carlos sucked in a breath, his eyes going wide as he gripped T.K.'s hand more tightly.

"Okay, hey, it's alright. We'll just put on a movie and lay down out here okay?" T.K. amended.

Carlos nodded, relaxing again. He shifted to let T.K. squeeze in behind him then maneuver them so they were both laying down, Carlos leaned back against T.K.'s chest. T.K. quickly turned something on the tv, then wrapped his arms around Carlos, holding him tightly. Carlos fell asleep to the sound of T.K.'s heart beating.

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

T.K. woke up with a start, feeling like not much time had passed since he'd fallen asleep. He realized the weight against his chest was missing and forced his eyes open to see Carlos sitting on the floor in front of the couch. His knees were pulled to his chest, slumped forward with his head in his hands, rocking back and forth.

"Carlos, baby?" T.K. asked, rubbing his eyes to try and wake up as he scooted closer to his boyfriend.

He quickly realized, Carlos was hyperventilating, breath coming in short gasps that caused his shoulders to hitch. Shit, panic attack. That woke T.K. up. He quickly got up off the couch, sliding their coffee table out of the way so he could sit on the floor in front of Carlos.

"Hey, I'm gonna touch you okay?" T.K. made sure to let Carlos know before reaching out to grab both of his hands. Carlos still startled for a second before relaxing slightly into the touch when he realized it was just T.K. When he looked up, T.K. could see the fear in his eyes.

"I can't- br-breath," Carlos gasped, one hand fumbling to grab at T.K.'s shirt.

"I know love, but it's gonna be okay," T.K. said, voice steady. He moved Carlos's hand, which had found a fistful of his t-shirt, to rest over his heart. "Feel that?" he asked.

Carlos nodded slightly, but his chest continued to hitch with labored breaths, tears streaming down his face. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut.

"Eyes on me baby, just focus on my heart beating," T.K. said softly. Carlos opened his eyes, locking them with T.K.'s. He managed to take in one good breath full of air, but then lurched forward with a sob, which took away all of his air again.

"Fuck- Tyler I-" Carlos cried.

"Hey, Carlos, look at me," T.K. said, "I know you're scared but I promise you're safe, I've got you. But we gotta get your breathing slowed down baby."

One of Carlos's hands still pressed firmly over T.K.'s heart, which was beating strong and steady. T.K. moved his other hand to hold Carlos's cheek, rubbing his thumb gently to dry the tears that continued to fall.

"Focus on my heartbeat, and breath with me," T.K. said, starting to take slow, exaggerated breaths for Carlos to follow. He knew that if Carlos stayed worked up like this for too long he'd make himself sick.

Slowly but surely, Carlos breaths became less erratic. The steady stream of tears had stopped and his breathing returned more or less to normal.

"There we go, you're doing good baby, just keep breathing," T.K. said, continuing to demonstrate the slow, measured breaths. But then his breath suddenly hitched, facing turning pale in the dim light of the hall lamp.

T.K. was already reaching for the trash can next to the couch when Carlos said, "I'm gonna be sick-". It was in his lap just in time for him to pitch forward and throw up into the bin.

"Easy babe, I've got you. Just get it up," T.K. soothed, moving to sit beside Carlos so he could rub his back as he coughed and spit into the bin. Apparently he hadn't gotten calmed down quickly enough. Being anxious and panicked had always turned Carlos's stomach.

A moment later Carlos slumped against T.K.'s side, head on his shoulder, obviously spent. Between the panic attack and the vomiting he had to be exhausted. T.K. gave Carlos a few minutes to breath, then silently helped him up off the floor, leading him up the stairs to their bedroom. They laid down together, Carlos's head resting on T.K.'s chest, so he could feel and hear his heart beating.

"You're safe here with me," T.K. whispered, running his fingers through Carlos's hair. That always calmed him down. He only hoped that Carlos could sleep through the rest of the night.

[1heartfanfics]

Tarlos (9-1-1 lonestar) Sickfic

First fic for Carlos and T.K. so let me know what you think. I just think that they're so adorable I knew I had to write for them.

TW: depictions of vomit

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When Carlos woke up he knew something was wrong. It took him a moment to wake up enough to figure out what it was though. He felt awful. As soon as he opened his eyes his head pounded, giving him vertigo. His stomach turned as the room did the same. He pushed himself up to sit against their headboard with shaking arms. With his eyes closed tightly against the spinning, he felt blindly to his left until his hand landed on T.K.'s back.

"T.K." he said quietly. Normally he would never want to wake T.K. up, especially after just coming off of a 24 hour shift, but he just felt so sick. He needed him.

"T.K.?" he said again, a little louder this time, pushing gently on his shoulder.

"Hmm, what?" T.K. mumbled sleepily, rolling over toward Carlos. "Carlos, what's wrong?" he asked, once he saw his boyfriend sitting up in bed, looking... unwell.

"I don't feel well," Carlos said softly, afraid something else would come out of his mouth if he raised his voice any. His stomach felt sour, like it was filled with acid, and the saliva flooding his mouth tasted about like it too.

"Yeah I can tell, you don't look so good babe," T.K. said, sitting up and pressing the back of his hand to Carlos's cheek, then his forehead. "You've definitely got a fever, you're pretty warm," he added.

Carlos relaxed a little at his touch, but his stomach still churned. A wave of nausea washed over him, but he wasn't sure he could move on his own even if he wanted to though.

"You gonna throw up?" T.K. asked, somehow able to read him without him saying another word. Carlos nodded. "You think you can make it to the bathroom?" T.K. asked, placing a hand on Carlos's arm. Carlos nodded again.

"Alright, let's go then. I've got you," T.K. moved to slide off the bed on Carlos's side, then grabbed him carefully by the elbow to help him up. He stumbled as soon as he was upright, but T.K.'s strong arm was around his waist supporting him immediately. He let himself be led to the bathroom, keeping his eyes shut until he felt T.K. lowering him down to the floor.

Carlos kneeled down in front of the toilet, leaning over the bowl in anticipation. T.K. crouched down behind his boyfriend, placing a hand on the center of his back while they waited.

A few minutes went by and nothing happened, so T.K. sat down, leaning back against the bathtub. He grabbed Carlos's waist to pull him down to sit with him but he resisted.

"Babe why don't you sit for a little bit? It doesn't seem like your body's ready yet," he said, rubbing a hand up and down his spine comfortingly.

"Can't." Carlos shook his head. He was still leaning over the bowl, his mouth open and his eyes unfocused. He had never felt so nauseous in his life. His mouth kept filling with bitter tasting saliva, which he spit into the bowl. A few times he actually gagged but nothing came up. He wished he could just throw up already so he could stop feeling this miserable.

"Okay, I'm right here," T.K. said softly.

After a few more minutes, Carlos did sit back on his heels, but only because his knees were starting to hurt.

"You want a towel or something under your knees?" T.K. asked, always able to read Carlos and anticipate what he needed.

Carlos nodded minutely. He felt the warm hand leave his back as T.K. got up and walked to their hall closet.

"Here, lift up for a second," T.K. said softly, kneeling back down beside Carlos. It took everything Carlos had just to lean back enough to lift his knees off the floor. T.K. quickly slid the towel under his knees, which was a relief when he put them back down.

T.K. moved back to his spot behind Carlos, trailing his fingers up and down his back, occasionally tracing circles or patterns. Carlos tried to focus on the comforting motions, but he still felt so nauseous he could hardly think about anything else.

"Are you sure you don't want to go back to bed to wait this out baby?" T.K. asked after a few more minutes passed.

Carlos shook his head. He couldn't explain it, but although the bed would be more comfortable, he just felt too sick. He had to stay here. "You can go," he mumbled, realizing that T.K. must be exhausted. He hadn't gotten much sleep after his shift before being woken up.

"No, no it's okay. We'll stay here for as long as you need, babe" T.K. said, giving Carlos's shoulder a squeeze before resuming the back rub.

Just as Carlos was about to give up himself, his stomach suddenly lurched. He hardly had time to think before his stomach contents came pouring out of his mouth into the bowl. He rocked forward even more, bringing a hand up to grip the side of the toilet as his body contracted with another wave. His stomach clenched again, this time only bringing up bile and spit which burned his throat on the way up.

His stomach ached with the force of the contractions that continued to wreck his stomach, even though nothing was coming up anymore. He couldn't stop. He coughed, tears welling in his eyes from the exertion.

"Easy babe, take it easy, you're done. You're all done, just try to breathe," T.K. soothing voice materialized behind him. Carlos had almost forgotten he was there. He tried to focus on T.K.'s voice and the warmth from his hand resting on his back as he forced a deep breath in, and out.

He let himself collapse over the toilet, his head falling to rest on his arm which was draped over the seat. He was exhausted and he felt absolutely disgusting. His stomach still hurt.

T.K. kept rubbing his back, letting Carlos catch his breath for a few minutes before he asked, "You think you're ready to go back to bed?"

Carlos shook his head, an involuntary groan escaping his lips.

"Still feeling nauseous?" T.K. asked sadly.

"Mmhmm," Carlos hummed, unable to conjure any actual words.

"Okay, I'm just gonna go grab your pillow and a blanket then so you can at least lay down," T.K. said. He stood up, bending down to give Carlos a kiss on the forehead before he left the bathroom again. He returned a moment later, sitting down against the side of the bathtub with his legs crossed and set the pillow down in his lap.

"Come here baby," T.K. said, pulling Carlos's limp body away from the toilet and maneuvering him to lay down on their rug with his head in T.K.'s lap with a blanket draped over him. "Just try to relax for a while okay?" T.K. said, running his fingers through Carlos's messy hair. That always calmed him down.

Unfortunately, Carlos only had about 15 minutes of reprieve laying in T.K.'s lap before he lurched back over the toilet to be sick again.

"Aw baby," T.K. sighed, feeling awful watching his boyfriend be so sick. Thankfully this round didn't last as long, since he didn't have anything left to bring up anyway. After a few moments of dry heaving over the bowl he was finally able to breathe again.

"Fuck-" he breathed out, spitting into the bowl. His stomach ached from clenching so hard and his legs trembled from holding him up, hunched over.

"You're okay love, I've got you," T.K. said from behind him. T.K. gently pulled Carlos back with a hand on his hip, moving him to sit in between T.K.'s legs and lean back against his chest. Carlos leaned his head back against his boyfriend's shoulder, taking slow deep breaths to make sure his stomach was going to stay in place for now.

"That's it, just breathe," T.K. encouraged, taking some slow deep breaths of his own for Carlos to model after.

"Let's go back to bed," T.K. said after Carlos seemed to have settled finally. "I'll bring the trash can in case you feel sick again later," he added, knowing Carlos might still be hesitant to leave the bathroom.

"Okay," Carlos agreed. He was exhausted.

T.K. slid out from behind Carlos and stood up, then leaned down to offer him both hands. Carlos took them, feeling like his limbs were made out of jello, and let T.K. pull him to his feet. T.K. led him back to bed by his waist, and helped him climb under the covers.

T.K. turned to head back into the bathroom and grab some stuff, but Carlos grabbed his wrist. "Hey," he said, turning back around, "what's wrong?" he asked. Carlos looked like he was about to cry.

"Where are you going?" Carlos asked shakily.

"I'm just gonna go grab your pillow and stuff, I'll be right back, okay?" T.K. said, reaching up to brush Carlos's curls out of his eyes. Carlos looked hesitant, but nodded and let go of his wrist.

T.K. gave him a soft smile before heading back to the bathroom. He quickly grabbed the pillow and blanket from the floor, as well as the trash can and towel, just in case. He set up the trash can on top of the towel on the floor next to Carlos's side of the bed, then helped him get situated with his pillow and draped the blanket over their comforter.

"You think you could drink a little bit of water if I brought you some?" T.K. asked.

Carlos immediately shook his head. That was what he expected, but he still sighed.

"What about one sip? I don't want you to get dehydrated," T.K. tried to bargain with him. "You need to take some medicine anyway," he added.

"I'll just throw it up," Carlos shook his head again.

"Well then at least you'd have something to throw up," T.K. reasoned. Carlos hesitated, but didn't say anything. "Just one sip okay? I'm gonna go get it," T.K. said, figuring that the absence of a no was the closest he was going to get to a yes. He walked out to their kitchen to grab a glass of water and two ibuprofen for the fever.

"Here, all you gotta do is take one sip to take the meds and then you can go back to sleep," T.K. said, holding both out to Carlos.

Carlos chewed on his lip like he always did when he was nervous. T.K. didn't blame him. He was sure that he wouldn't want to put anything in his stomach if the roles were reversed either. But his paramedic brain knew that he needed water and medicine.

After a moment of hesitation, Carlos accepted the pills, popping them into his mouth before grabbing the glass and taking a very small sip. He really would've liked for him to drink a little more, but he didn't want to push it, so T.K. took the glass back and set it on the nightstand before crawling into bed next to Carlos.

He scooted up behind Carlos as they both laid down, pulling Carlos toward him slowly until his back rested against T.K.'s chest. He slid one arm under his head and draped the other over his waist, holding him close.

"Wake me up again if you need me okay?" T.K. whispered.

Carlos hummed in reply, snuggling back closer against his boyfriend. He almost always wanted to be the big spoon, but right now he was so grateful to have T.K.'s arms wrapped around him.

To be continued...