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flicker, into a flame

13.1k || ao3

When their home is attacked and they get separated, TK is left to face the awful possibility that he might lose Carlos. When he finds out later that the attack on their home could be in retaliation for his dad's newest obsession with Austin's arsonist, he lashes out. Owen never wanted any of this to happen and if he could he would take it all back, but that's not possible. All any of them can do is hope for the best and that Carlos makes it through. If he doesn't nothing will ever be the same, for any of them. ----- A 2x12 spec fic

This got a lot longer than I meant it to be. But here it is - just in time to be proven wrong! This was started before the promo clip of Gabriel arresting Owen so that is not in here, but there are still many of my theories, and just as many from @silvarafael who helped a lot with the plot of this one. Yes it is angsty, but I promise there are soft parts, and a soft ending because they deserve it.

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

TK woke up to a soft kiss on his forehead. He blinked his eyes open to find his fully clothed boyfriend staring down at him with a gentle smirk. “What,” Carlos began with a raised eyebrow, “three weeks of living together and we’ve already hit the ‘in bed before 9’ part of our relationship?”

TK rolled so he was facing Carlos, giving him a warm smile that morphed into a yawn. “Sorry babe,” he said around the yawn, “it was a really long shift. I figured I’d just get a quick nap in before you got home but I must have fallen asleep for real. What time is it?”

“Just past 8,” Carlos replied, sitting down on the edge of the bed and studying him, “you look exhausted.”

“Non-stop calls,” TK provided by way of explanation. “I don’t think we were ever in the station longer than a half-hour all day.”

Carlos winced sympathetically, reaching out to run a hand through TK’s hair. “Everyone needed to be saved by you, huh? Can’t say I blame them.”

“Or something like that,” TK agreed lightly before starting to sit up and throw the blankets off of him. “But you’re home now, I’ll get up. We can do something.”

“We could,” Carlos agreed. “Or, we could stay right here. I have some ideas.”

TK paused in his movements to raise a suggestive eyebrow, “Is that so?”

“Mhmm,” Carlos confirmed, leaning forward and capturing TK’s mouth in a hungry kiss. TK smiled into it, reaching up and placing his hands on either side of Carlos’s face as he returned it.

“Hi,” he said breathlessly when they broke apart for air, “how was work?”

“Work was fine,” Carlos responded lightly, “just your average day of speeding tickets and domestic disputes. But I don’t want to talk about that right now. In fact, I’d rather not do much talking at all.”

TK grinned mischievously, sliding his hands down from where they framed Carlos’s face across his neck and down to his chest, pulling lightly at the shirt covering it. “Then I regret to inform you that you are wearing too many clothes, Officer Reyes.”

“Is that so? Well, that can be remedied easily.”

He pulled his shirt over his head, leaning forward again, pulling TK into a kiss as he blindly fumbled with his belt. He grinned into the kiss as TK made a noise of triumph and he felt his belt loosen and he lowered himself down, bracing himself on either side of TK’s body as he deepened the kiss. TK’s arms wrapped around him as he shifted, raising himself up on the bed so that they were closer, closing the distance between them.

Their bodies were flush to each other now, their frantic breaths matching. Carlos moved his mouth from TK’s, trailing kisses down his neck instead. He was about to keep working his way down when he suddenly felt the warmth of TK’s hands leave his body. He barely had a moment to process before TK’s voice cut through the silence of their bedroom: “Wait, Carlos, Stop.”

Carlos froze instantly, pulling away and looking down at TK with concern, “Is everything okay? We don’t need to if…”

“No, it’s not that. It’s...do you smell something?”

Carlos frowned at him but shifted his attention to the world outside their bed. There was a smell, drifting up from below them. It smelled like…

“Is that smoke?” He asked, glancing towards the doorway in alarm.

“I think so,” TK agreed grimly and Carlos cursed, pulling himself off of TK and the bed before crossing to the doorway. TK followed him but was forced to stop when Carlos froze in the doorway. He watched as his boyfriend halted at the top of the stairs, reeling back at the sight of flames eating through the first floor and making their way up. He stepped further back as Carlos turned, stepping back into their bedroom and slamming the door shut behind him.

“There’s fire downstairs,” he informed TK unnecessarily, “we’re not getting out that way.”

TK cursed and glanced around the room before heading to the balcony. “Any chance there’s a fire escape somewhere you forgot to mention and I never noticed?” he called as he went.

Carlos, who had been in the act of following TK towards across the room looked up only to shake his head before he returned his attention to the bag he had dropped when he had entered the room, rummaging through it in search of his phone.

He made a noise of triumph as he found it, briefly holding it up for TK to see before dialing. His eyes tracked TK on the other side of the room as he waited for the call to connect. TK offered him a smile before he turned back to the task at hand and pulled open the doors to the balcony. The smoke was even more obvious out here, leaking out into the night air through the window he was fairly certain he had left open. He stepped to the railing and looked down, trying to gauge how far of a drop it was. All the time he had spent here he should already know, but he had never thought to check. It was hard to tell in the dark, even with the orange glow of the home burning below him, but it didn’t look too far. If they went over the railing and then lowered themselves down, they should be able to make it.

He turned to tell Carlos as much and was alarmed to see how much smoke was now filling their bedroom, despite the closed door. Carlos was still on the phone with dispatch but looked up when TK stepped back into the room.

“I think if we can lower ourselves over the railing and drop down, we should be fine,” he called out and Carlos nodded, speaking into the phone before he lowered it from his ear and started to walk across the room.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, I trust you,” Carlos called as walked. “Either way, pretty sure it beats staying in here.”

TK grinned at him as stepped further inside the room. He fully intended to make sure that Carlos got out first. He may be a paramedic now, but 7 years of firefighting left him feeling a lot more confident in his ability to survive in a flaming building than Carlos’s. Besides, he wouldn’t be able to focus on anything else unless he knew his boyfriend was safe.

At least, that was the plan.

Carlos was only about 6 feet away from him when it happened, so close to their exit; so close to safety. But the fire downstairs must be burning hotter than he had thought, or maybe he just wasn’t thinking clearly. Because when the floor buckled under Carlos, TK felt a shock unlike any other. There was a pause; a split second, where he felt a wave of fear overwhelm him. Where his eyes met Carlos’s to see the same mix of fear and surprise in his expression. It was only a moment, but it was enough.

In the next breath, TK lunged forward; reaching out to grab Carlos, to pull him back to safety. But that one moment had been his window, and he had missed it. He slid forward, stopping just short of the edge with a shout, able do nothing but watch in horror as Carlos fell with what had been their bedroom floor and out of TK’s sight into the flames below.

He froze at the end of the hole, staring down into the destruction beneath him. He couldn’t make out anything: it all blurred together in a blinding haze of flame and smoke. He called out but his voice, tinged in panic and desperation, was swallowed by the roar of the fire. TK coughed harshly, instinct causing him to pull the neck of his shirt up over his mouth as he forced himself to look past the panic that was threatening to swallow him. He needed to get to Carlos. He needed to make sure he was okay.

He picked himself up off the ground and carefully edged around the hole in the floor, heading back over to the door at the top of their stairs. He pulled it open and was almost toppled by the wave of heat that rushed through; staggering and reaching out for the doorframe to steady himself. He pulled his hands away a moment later, hissing in pain as the heat of the doorframe seared into his hand. A step through the doorway confirmed what he had feared: there would be no getting down that way. The stairs were fully engulfed. Even in his full turnout gear it would have been a challenge. In nothing but the t-shirt and sweats he had fallen asleep in earlier; it would be impossible.

He could feel desperation and fear creeping back into his mind. He needed to get to Carlos. He needed to make sure he was safe. He needed Carlos to be okay. Nothing else mattered.

He glanced back over his shoulder into their bedroom. There were no flames in there yet, just thick dark smoke. He turned that way, heading back into the room and to the edge of the hole in the floor, pausing for just a moment. He knew one way to get down to Carlos, even if 7 years of experience and instincts were yelling at him to stop.

But it was Carlos, and he was worth every risk.

So he clamored to the edge and lowered himself down, into the inferno below.

It took him a few moments to get his bearings, to adjust to the bright light cast by the flames surrounding him. He blinked against the light and the smoke, hiking his t-shirt - far too thin to make any real difference - further up his face, doing his best to keep it secured above his nose. He had no idea where Carlos had fallen, or what shape he was in. He just hoped that he wasn’t too far or too badly hurt.

He moved forward carefully, blinking the sweat running down his forehead from his eyes as he glanced around, looking for any sign of his boyfriend, any hint of where to head next. He thought he might be in the dining room, but it was almost impossible to tell. Everything looked wrong bathed in the sinister orange glow and for all his years of working in fire, TK was certain he had never hated it more than he did at this very moment.

More of the ceiling crumbled as he walked beneath it, flaming pieces of plaster and wood singing his arms as he threw them protectively over his head. He could feel his skin blistering from even the briefest contact with the flaming debris but he ignored it and pushed forward, hoping that where ever Carlos was he was nowhere near the flames. He had a fleeting thought of what prolonged exposure to these flames could do if the briefest contact could leave him burned, but he pushed it away. He didn’t need to dwell on it, there was no point in considering the worst.

TK reached the edge of the dining room and turned on the spot, scanning the surrounding area. Carlos was here somewhere, he just needed to find him. And fast – the flames were spreading. They didn’t have much more time, and Carlos had even less. He turned again, forcing himself to look past the flames. He could just make out a pile of rubble a few feet in front of him, mercifully untouched by flames and he rushed towards it with bated breath. He was forced to stop again when more of the ceiling rained down on him and he covered his head with his arms. He could feel new burns forming but he rushed forward the moment the shower stopped, bending down and moving the rubble.

He almost swayed in relief when he saw a familiar arm underneath the scrap of wood he lifted, but his relief was short-lived when he realized that Carlos wasn’t moving. In fact, he seemed entirely unaware of either TK’s presence or the chaos that surrounded them and that filled TK with dread. He moved the rest of the rubble, quickly but carefully, until he had a better view and bent even further down, leaning closer to listen for any sounds of breathing; for any sign that he was alive.

He found none and could feel his world begin to collapse right along with their home.

But somewhere and somehow years of training emerged from the depth of his mind and took over, blanketing the pain and the fear with muscle memory as he shifted onto his knees before Carlos’s still form, stacking his hands on top of each other and starting to pump. The motion was rote and repetitive and if he tried, he could almost lose himself in the act; the rhythm of the motion and the counting almost distracting him from the fact that it was Carlos’s heart not beating beneath his fingers.

But one look at Carlos’s slack face was all it took for reality to come crashing back in, each and every time.

He paused at the end of his 30 compressions, shifting so he was at Carlos’s head and placing his mouth over his just like he had not even an hour before but in such a different way it shook him to his core. He breathed in, three times, before he switched back to compressions, wincing as he felt another rib give under the force of his hands. He lost himself in rhythm, so focused that he didn’t hear the footsteps or the shouts; that he didn’t realize the figures in turnout gear were upon him until a gloved hand on his shoulder startled him back to reality.

The hand was trying to pull him away from Carlos but he resisted, pulling away and continuing to give compressions. He couldn’t stop; he needed to save him.

The hand pulled more forcefully and was joined by an arm wrapped around his waist wrenching him away from Carlos. He fought against the grip, blindly lashing out as he turned. He only paused in his movements as he recognized Paul under the mask.

“TK,” he was saying, shouting to be heard through the mask and over the din of the fire as new pieces of their ceiling crumbled to the ground as the flames grew ever higher. “You need to stop so we can get you out of here – both of you.”

“Carlos…” TK started, and Paul nodded.

“We’ve got him, I promise. We’re not leaving either of you behind, but you need to stop fighting me.”

Paul’s gaze was scared and desperate, and TK deflated with a nod. He allowed Paul to pull him further away as Marjan and Mateo grabbed Carlos, carefully lifting him and bringing him out. TK didn’t remove his eyes from him for a second, allowing Paul to do the work of navigating out of the burning structure that had been their home not even an hour ago. He watched as he was handed off to the B shift paramedic team even as he was pushed down onto the back of the ambulance by Paul. He saw Marjan and Mateo shoot him worried and fearful looks before they were off, returning to the truck and the hoses so they could attempt to stop the fire. He heard words exchanged to his right and the feeling of Paul's hand leaving him, but he only had focus for Carlos and the paramedic currently continuing compressions as another checked him over.

“Here, kid, you’re going to need this.”

The voice was gruff but gentle and TK spared a glance long enough to see Judd standing beside him now, reaching out to place an O2 mask over TK’s face. TK put up a hand and went to argue – he didn’t need help, he needed them to help Carlos – but his protests were stolen by a deep, rough cough that ripped from his chest.

“Like I said,” Judd griped, but the hands that placed the mask on his face were gentle. The fresh oxygen filled his lungs and TK could feel some of the tension in his chest tighten, but any relief was fleeting as he saw the paramedic captain preparing the laryngoscope. He tried to rise from his spot on the back of the ambulance, to move closer, to help; but firm hands on his shoulder held him in place.

“Let them work,” Judd told him calmly. “You know better than I do that they’re fully capable, and you’re in no shape to help anyone right now.”

TK tried to protest, going as far as reaching up to pull off the O2 mask, but his movements were halted by the sight of Captain Ramos getting into position and inserting the laryngoscope and beginning the process of intubating. TK had done it himself a hundred times, he knew the steps by heart; the feeling of resistance, the tricky process of placing it correctly. He knew why, he understood that it was the best approach for any patient with a compromised airway, especially from smoke inhalation. He knew all of these facts, had done the task with a professional detachment. Watching the tube being inserted into Carlos’s body – seeing the reality of an ambu bag being attached to pump the air he needed to survive into his body – was another matter entirely and if he hadn’t been pushed back down by Judd, he is sure he would have crumbled.

As it was, he was shaking.

This couldn’t be happening – it shouldn’t be happening. They should still be in their bed; Carlos should be standing. Their home should not be crumbling to embers before him while someone else did the breathing for Carlos. It was a scene he had seen more times than he could ever count. In the past 7 years, how many homes had he watched burn? How many victims had he transported, had he treated? He had thought it had all become routine, but it all looked so different from this side, and he hated it. It was wrong, every bit of it.

He turned his gaze from their home back to Carlos, trying to follow the flurry of activity from the paramedic team. Instructions were given and stats were relayed but it was all white noise and soon a blur as his eyes filled with tears. He went to raise a hand to wipe them away only to be stopped by hand on his arm.

“Your hands are burned, you’ll irritate them,” Judd murmured, and TK was dimly aware of the presence of pain now that it had been brought to his attention. The physical hurt was nothing compared to watching Carlos, to knowing that Carlos wasn’t breathing on his own. Even in his detached and confused state TK was following well enough to know that Carlos was not in good shape and the thought that he might lose him was worse than anything he had ever felt. The physical pain from the cuts and burns littering his body didn’t even hold a candle to that. He could lose him.

“Hey,” Judd said softly, “don’t go there. Don’t count him out yet. Have a little faith; he’s not ready to leave you yet either.”

TK wasn’t sure if he had said anything aloud or if Judd just knew, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was Carlos. He glanced back over at the paramedic team surrounding Carlos, trying not to focus on how badly the sight of them working to keep him alive affected him, on how it sucked all the air from his lungs and made his heart ache.

He watched until they started to get ready to move him, to load him into the ambulance. He shot up, determined to get out of the way, to not slow them down but the sudden change in elevation caused him to sway.

“Hey now,” Judd said, reaching out to grab him, “easy there. No sudden movements.”

TK didn’t respond, too focused on watching them move Carlos to focus on anything else. The moment he was in he moved towards the ambulance, only vaguely aware of Judd stopping him and pulling him into a tight hug. “He’s going to be okay, kid,” he assured him quietly before releasing him and helping him up into the ambulance. The last thing he saw before the doors closed was Judd’s worried face looking up at him, and the sight of their home burning brightly against the night sky.

--------

He had just finished counting the ceiling tiles, again.

Owen had been sitting in the interrogation room ever since APD officers had shown up at his door and brought him to the station without a word of explanation. They had read him his rights, loaded him into their cruiser, and escorted him to his windowless room. That had been two hours now, or so he thought. It was hard to judge time in a windowless room full of fluorescent light.

He was trying to be patient, trying to play it cool. He knew how it worked: they left suspects alone for a while, to let them get worked up. To make them more likely to crack. But Owen wasn’t a suspect; he had done nothing wrong. This was all a big misunderstanding and the sooner they came to talk to him, the sooner they would know that.

Or so he kept telling himself.

He was staring at the door again, willing it to open and for someone to step through when it finally did, taking him completely by surprise.

“Captain Strand,” the figure said as he stepped into the room, “I’m Detective Caldwell. Do you know why you are here?”

“Can’t say I do,” Owen replied evenly, studying the detective standing before him. The man nodded and set down the folder he had been holding, pulling it open as he took a seat in the chair across from Owen.

“You’re here,” he began, looking up from his folder to meet Owen’s eyes, “on suspicion of arson. There has been a rash of fires throughout the city in the past few weeks and somehow, you keep ending up tied to them.”

“I had nothing to do with those fires,” Owen said heatedly. “There’s some other psycho out there who has burned down four homes, you’re wasting your time with me.”

“Five.”

Owen froze in the middle of his defense, “What?”

“Five homes burned down. There was another one tonight, about 3 hours ago now.”

Owen stared at Detective Caldwell, “And you think I did it?”

“You have a connection to this particular location,” the detective explained. “Tell me, Captain, what does 2421 W 9th St mean to you?”

And just like that, Owen’s world ground to a halt.

“What was that address,” he asked slowly, desperately hoping he had misheard. It had to be his brain latching on to familiar syllables, that was the only explanation.

“2421 W 9th St,” Caldwell repeated, reaching into his folder and pulling out photos that he slid across the table to Owen. He picked them up with shaking hands, still praying that he had heard wrong but there was no mistaking the familiar scene in the photos. A doorway that he had carried boxes through not even a month ago, the remains of a kitchen he had insisted on helping with the dishes in after dinner just last week. His son’s car parked out front.

He could feel the detective’s eyes on him, no doubt studying and judging his reaction, but he couldn’t care less about that at the moment. “Were they home?” he asked, well aware of the desperation seeping his voice but unable to stop it. “Please tell me they were out, that they’re okay.”

“They were both home,” Caldwell informed him curtly. “And they were both rescued and transported to the hospital. I’m not at liberty to share any more information beyond that.”

Owen stared at him, trying to remember how to form words past the roaring fear in his head.

“Not at liberty…” he said distantly, staring at the other man. “That’s my son! How are you not at liberty to share that information?”

“I don’t have any information beyond that,” Caldwell explained, “and even if I did it is generally against protocol to provide such information to suspects.”

“Suspects?” Owen asked incredulously, fingers tightening on the horrifying photos still clutched in his hands. “You think I am a suspect? You think I could have done...this,” he broke off, gesturing to the destruction in the photos, “to my own son? To Carlos? Are you out of your mind?”

“I think that’s the question I am supposed to ask you, Captain.”

Owen studied him, taking in the hard set of the detective’s jaw. “You really think I did this,” he noted, the shock he was feeling seeping into his words.

The detective shrugged, “Why not? You’re a fire captain, you would have the knowledge and means to do so.”

Owen scoffed, “Yeah but you said it: I’m a firefighter. I have dedicated my life to saving people from fires, not to starting them.”

“But things haven’t been going all that great for you lately, have they? Maybe you decided to mix things up, try something else for a thrill.”

“Things have been fine.” Owen retorted calmly, holding his gaze. “And even if they weren’t I promise I’m more the ‘binge drink tequila’ type than the ‘arson’ type.”

“So you’re fine with your ex-wife deciding to move back to New York instead of continuing with your attempt to rekindle and start again?”

“Yes. Gwyn is a capable and smart woman, I wouldn’t dream of trying to tell her what to do or stand in her way once she’s made up her mind.”

“And your girlfriend before her?”

“Zoe was never my ‘girlfriend’,” Owen stated, leaning forward and tapping the table for emphasis. “We were just two adults who enjoyed each other’s company. Besides, she was offered a position at Berkley and since that was closer to her family and it was the start of the pandemic, she decided to take it. It made sense, and she’s happy there. Do you have a point anywhere in this?”

“What about your son, then?”

Owen stiffened as he glanced away from the detective, “What about him?”

“He’s leaving you too. First, he left your fire crew to become a paramedic, now he’s moved out, again. Moved in with his boyfriend, right?”

The detective leveled his gaze at Owen, who held it for a second before scoffing. “Please don’t tell me you think this is a homophobic thing. TK came out to me when he was 15. That was over a decade ago; pretty sure I would have acted on those feelings before now if they existed.”

“No, I don’t think it’s a homophobic thing. I think you’re scared of losing your son. It’s reasonable, and I do see where you’re coming from, honestly: how many times has he almost died in the past year alone? Three times? Wanting to keep him close, make sure he’s safe, it makes sense.”

Owen simply stared at the detective for a long moment. When he spoke, his tone was incredulous again, “You realize how insane you sound, right? I love my son and all I want is for him to be happy. He’s happy with Carlos. Besides, what parent in their right mind would not want their child dating Carlos Reyes? He’s kind of perfect. I know TK is safe with him and I know TK is loved with him.”

He paused here for breath, holding the detective’s gaze as he continued, voice more serious, “The only thing I am worried about right now is if they’re okay. At what point would putting my son in danger like that accomplish anything. Why would I risk that? He is the only thing that matters to me. I would never do that to him, or to Carlos.”

There was silence in the interrogation room in the wake of his words. The detective was studying him again, but Owen was out of patience.

“Every minute you spend with me is another minute that psycho has to do this again,” he spat. “I’m not the one you should be worried about, detective, I promise you. All you’re doing is giving that monster more of a chance to get away, or to hurt someone else.”

There was silence in the wake of his outburst. The detective studied him, but Owen held his gaze. He hadn’t done this; he wasn’t the person they were looking for.

A knock on the glass of the observation room interrupted their staring contest as the detective stepped out of the room to see what it was about. Owen leaned back in his seat and sighed, trying to keep his mind from running with all the awful possibilities. TK and Carlos could both be hurt or worse and he had no way of knowing. He had faith that they weren’t there alone; there was no chance the rest of the team wouldn’t be there for him. But it didn’t change the fact that Owen should be there and that he wasn’t because someone at Austin PD decided this would be the best time to interrogate him.

He was about to tell the detective as much when he reentered the room a few minutes later but was saved the trouble when the detective stood in the doorway, door open beside him.

“You’re free to go, Captain Strand,” he said. At Owen’s startled look he sighed, “You’re not in the clear yet but we don’t have enough to hold you on. Suffice to say you’ll need to stay in town.”

Owen stared at him for another moment before he was up, heading towards the door. He was just about the exit when the detective stepped sideways so he was blocking Owen’s exit.

“I know you didn’t ask for it but, my advice? Maybe take some time and focus on your son, and Officer Reyes. I’m sure he could use you right now and poking your nose back into this isn’t going to help anyone, let alone you. If you’re telling the truth and it’s not you, let the guy hang himself. We will catch the arsonist, whoever it is.”

The detective held his gaze and Owen swallowed before nodding, stepping out of the interrogation room and into the bright lights of the hallway. He paused for a moment, blinking to readjust his eyes when he heard a voice behind him, “Owen.”

He turned to see Gabriel Reyes leaning on the wall across from the interrogation room, a grim look on his face.

“Gabriel,” Owen said, crossing the hallway so he was beside him, “How’s TK? And Carlos? Were they hurt?”

Pain flashed across the other man’s face for a moment before he stood up straighter, “TK’s fine, a few burns and cuts and some minor smoke inhalation. Carlos...is hanging on.”

Owen winced at the implications, “Are the Rangers helping with the investigation now? Do you have any new leads?”

“My department is involved now, but I’m not. My only concern right now is my son, and yours.”

“How is he holding up?”

“As well as can be expected, I’d say. He’s scared, worried, and angry. Your crew has been there, right alongside us, but I’d say he could use his father.”

“Yeah well, the APD seemed to have other ideas for how I should be spending my time. I suppose you’re the one I have to thank for springing me? I think the word of a Texas Ranger is about the only thing that could have gotten them to let me go.”

“You’d be right, but I didn’t do it for you. I did it for TK.”

Owen glanced at the other man, startled by the harsh tone of his voice. There was steel in his voice and his eyes as he met Owen’s gaze, “You know what they’re saying, Owen? They’re saying this looks like retaliation. A personal attack meant to hurt you. To get you to stop. And that’s from the people who don’t think you started the fires yourself.”

Owen froze, hands fisting the material of his jacket in his hands. The other man was looking at him with disdain, but there was pain behind it.

“I didn’t…” he began, but Gabriel didn’t give him a chance to finish.

“Those are our children, Owen. Don’t we have enough to worry about with the jobs they chose? None of us need you bringing more trouble. None of us need more danger.”

“I didn’t ask for this to happen!” Owen reminded him heatedly, feeling his anger rise. “I never wanted this to happen! If I had known that this could be the result, I never would have gotten involved!”

“You shouldn’t have gotten involved in the first place!”

The outburst from the typically stoic Gabriel Reyes took Owen by surprise, as well as everyone else in the hallway. There were concerned looks shot their way and Gabriel sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You shouldn’t have gotten involved in the first place,” he repeated, voice more even. “It’s not your job. If you had concerns you should have brought them to someone. Your OFI, me, even Carlos. Anyone who is actually qualified to deal with this. But you didn’t, and now look where it’s gotten us.”

“That’s not fair,” Owen ground out, voice tight and low. “I didn’t ask for this. You know I never would have put him at risk, either of them.”

“Maybe not,” Gabriel agreed, “but that doesn’t change the facts. The damage has already been done, Owen. My son...” he trailed off as his voice turned thick. He looked down and cleared his throat before trying again, “My son is in a coma with a machine breathing for him,” he told him, “and yours is scared and hurting. You may not have wanted this to happen, but that doesn’t change the fact that it has.”

Owen was quiet in the wake of his words because everything Gabriel had said was true. This was his fault, no matter how indirectly. He had brought this upon them and he would have to live with that and whatever the outcome might be.

He just hoped it was one he could stomach.

The two fathers stood quietly in the hallway for several more long moments before Gabriel shook his head. “Us arguing isn’t accomplishing anything,” he told Owen. “The only thing that matters right now is our children, and I am sure TK could use you right now. I’ll take you to the hospital, if you’re ready.”

There was so much more to say, Owen knew. He knew he should apologize, that he should assure the other man again and again that it wasn’t him until he was sure he believed it. That he should vow to do better, to never make the same mistakes again. But there was one thing on which he and Gabriel agreed: they weren’t the important ones right now. What he had to say didn’t matter.

So he nodded and quietly followed the other man out of the building and towards what did.

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

“You need to get some rest, TK.”

“I’m fine,” TK replied, and Andrea scoffed.

“You are not fine, and you should know better than to lie to me. You’re hurt too - in more ways than one.”

TK spared her a glance before returning his gaze to the still figure in the bed beside them, “It’s not like I have anywhere to go anyways,” he whispered. “Our home is gone.”

“You could come home with Gabriel and I,” Andrea offered, reaching out and placing a soft hand on his arm and squeezing lightly, careful to avoid the bandaged burns, “you’re always welcome.”

“I appreciate it,” he told her, throwing her a quick, small smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “I really do. But I can’t leave him.”

And that was the crux of it. Logically he knew that his presence didn’t change things one way or the other; staying didn’t give Carlos any more of a fighting chance. But leaving felt like gambling with something he wasn’t willing to risk. He had almost lost him; he had placed his hands on his chest and felt the stillness of the heart he loved most not beating and now he couldn’t get it out of his head. The memory of the sensation was so strong that even the rhythm of the heart monitor beside him wasn’t enough; he kept one hand wrapped loosely around Carlos’s wrist, his fingers pressed against his pulse point and allowing him to trace the rhythm of his heartbeat in his mind. It was a balm and the only thing that was keeping him from going absolutely insane at this moment. He couldn’t leave that; he wasn’t sure he’d survive it.

“Besides, I’m pretty sure the only reason they let me leave my own bed is that they know I’m not going anywhere,” TK noted wryly. “I don’t think the doctor is convinced I’m not about to keel over. I told him I wasn’t in the thick smoke for as long but…”

He trailed off, any humor leaving his voice and his gaze turning back to Carlos. He reached up with the hand not clutching his wrist to stroke his face.

“I’m so sorry,” he said softly, not entirely sure who he was talking to. “I should have done more. I should have gotten to him faster. I should have never let us get separated in the first place. I should be the one in the coma; not him.”

“TK, no,” Andrea said, tears in her voice as he reached for him again. “This is not your fault, none of it. And you did everything you could to rescue him, to make sure he was as safe as he could be. I don’t have a single doubt about it.”

“Besides, I’m pretty sure Carlos would object to that,” a new voice said from the door. TK turned around to see his father standing in the doorway, his hands worrying the material of the hoodie clutched in his hands as he studied the scene in the room with sad eyes, offering TK a small, fake smile when their eyes met. “He’d say you being in one coma in the past year is more than enough, and I can’t say I’d disagree with him.”

TK didn’t respond. He just stared at his father. Beside him he heard rustling, but he paid it no mind until Andrea spoke.

“Gabriel and I are going to go home for a little while, try to get some sleep. We’ll be back first thing in the morning.” She hiked her purse onto her shoulder and bent down to press a kiss on Carlos’s head. She lingered for a moment, muttering something softly in Spanish that TK wouldn’t have understood even if he could have heard it before turning and placing second kiss on TK’s forehead.

“Try to get some rest, please,” she told him gently. “You still need to take care of yourself, and you know my Carlitos would be telling you the same thing.”

He swallowed and nodded. Andrea gave him another sad smile before turning and leaving the room, giving Owen a nod on her way out. Soon the found of her footsteps faded down the hall and it was only TK and his father in the room.

TK turned his full focus back to Carlos as he heard footsteps drawing closer and coming to a halt on the other side of the bed. He could feel his dad’s eyes on him, but he didn’t look up until Owen spoke.

“What did the doctor’s say?”

“That there was too much damage to his windpipe and lungs,” TK started, voice low and still hoarse. “On top of the broken ribs and severe bruising from falling and being trapped under bits of the ceiling. The only good news is that it means he was still breathing for most of the time he was down there. They think he must have just stopped right before I got to him. Either way, they’re going to keep him on the ventilator for at least a day, probably more. Until his airway is stable enough to support him breathing on his own.”

“What about you?”

“I’m fine,” TK said dismissively, unconsciously tightening his grip on Carlos’s wrist. “Some burns, nothing past second degree. Bit of smoke inhalation; nothing I can’t walk away from.”

“Your voice sounds like it was more than just a bit of smoke inhalation. It sounds like you should still be on oxygen.”

“My levels are fine.”

“TK…”

“The team was here,” TK said instead, interrupting Owen before he even had a chance to speak. “They came by after shift. I was still being treated but they hung around. Judd even managed to talk his way into being in the room with me, so I wasn’t alone. They would have stayed, would still be here, but I told them to go home. Nothing they can do. They didn’t want to though.

“They’re good like that,” Owen agreed, and TK finally looked up at his father.

“It was nice to have some family here,” he said, holding his dad’s gaze. He saw the older man flinch, but he pressed on. “Is it true, what they’re saying?”

“It was arson,” Owen confirmed grimly, but TK shook his head.

“No, I know that. I meant the other thing.”

He held his dad’s gaze and the way Owen looked down at his hands told him that he knew exactly what he was hinting at.

“Was this connected to what you’ve been up to?” TK pressed, not willing to let him weasel out of this conversation. He was filled with so many emotions, he had filtered through too many in the past few hours. He had been scared; he had been sad. He had cried and he had sat in silence; marinating in his dread and letting his anxiety run wild through his mind. Now it was time to poke at the anger that had been lurking in the wings that had only grown when he had heard the rumor: retaliation.

His dad was quiet for another moment before he looked up, his eyes first landing on Carlos’s slack face before he met TK’s hard gaze, “It may have been.”

TK nodded tightly, looking away from his dad and turning his gaze back to Carlos. He leaned closer, left hand still wrapped around his wrist to run his right through is hair, carding his fingers through the curls. He knew his dad was watching him, waiting for him to say something, but he couldn’t think of anything to say. He didn’t want to start a shouting match with his dad in Carlos’s hospital room and he was afraid that if he opened his mouth that is exactly what would happen.

“If I had known,” his dad said softly, but stopped. TK pulled his gaze away from Carlos to look at his dad, registering the guilt so evident on his face.

He wanted that to be enough, for that to quell the fury inside him, but his nerves were stressed past their breaking point. He didn’t have any composure left in him; especially not for his dad – the one person he should always be able to rely on to be there for him, to protect him.

“You shouldn’t have gotten involved in the first place,” he spat, taking a small amount of petty pleasure at the sight of his dad recoiling from his tone. “I told you not to get involved, that it was a bad idea. But you didn’t listen to me – just like always.”

He pulled his gaze away from his dad to study Carlos again, as if his attention might change anything about the awful reality surrounding him.

“I was worried you were going to get hurt,” he confided. “I was worried that even after you finally got the damn cancer surgery you had just managed to find another way I could lose you. I guess the joke was on me though; look where we are instead.”

He knew his words were bitter, that he was probably being unfair. He was pretty sure if Carlos were here, he would tell him to think about what he was saying; to give his dad the benefit of the doubt. But Carlos had always been better than him, and Carlos wasn’t here right now.

“They destroyed our home, dad. Which I hate and it makes me so angry, but I could live with that, you know? Houses can be replaced, but Carlos…” he trailed off, looking down at the hand wrapped around the wrist resting on the bed. His words had lost all their anger now and he could feel the tears he thought he had run out of earlier threatening to return.

“I could lose Carlos,” he admitted, his voice barely a whisper now, “and I don’t know how I’m supposed to deal with that.”

“Son,” his dad started, and TK looked up to see his more sadness in the older man’s eyes than he had ever seen before. It seemed to weigh on his entire body, his usually excellent posture drooping as he looked at TK and at Carlos. For the first time that TK could recall, his dad actually looked old. The anger had already left TK; extinguished in the act of expressing it. But looking at his dad now he didn’t think he could have found it in him to be angry in him regardless.

“I know you never would have put either of us at risk,” he assured his dad. “Never on purpose. I could never think that.”

Owen nodded and TK looked back down at Carlos’s still form. He heard the noise of his dad dragging the other chair closer and settling into it but said nothing. He meant what he said: he knew his dad would never have purposefully put them at risk. At worst he was guilty of getting caught up in the moment; at getting swept up into the action. TK knew that and he had meant what he had said. Maybe it wasn’t quite forgiveness, but it was a start.

For now, they could wait together in silence because despite everything TK didn’t want to be left alone right now. He might not be pleased with his dad at the moment but just knowing that he was here was a weight lifted off his shoulders because knowing someone else was there to help shoulder it made it all the more bearable.

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

Morning came, but change did not.

TK startled awake at the sound of footsteps in the room; sitting upright and coming face to face with a nurse, who offered him a smile. He looked from her back to the bed to see the same sight he had fallen asleep to: Carlos, completely still save for the mechanical rise and fall of his chest from the ventilator. He felt his heart sink all over again. Somehow, he had managed to convince himself that things would be better in the morning, despite the fact that he knew damn well it would be at least another 12 hours before they even considered taking him off the vent.

“Any change?” he asked the nurse, and though he knew the answer it still hurt when she shook her head.

“No, but he’s stable and that’s a good thing.”

She offered him a sympathetic smile and TK tried to return it before asking the next question, “Has there been any discussion about when they might try to take him off the vent?”

“Not that I’m aware of, but the doctor will be by to check on him in the next hour or so. You could probably get a better answer after that.”

He nodded and as she finished her checks on Carlos, her gaze turned back to him. “And what about you?” she prompted. “How are you doing? Any problems with shortness of breath, headaches, or coughing?”

“I’m fine,” he assured her, “I just need him to be okay.”

Her expression softened again and on her way out of the room she paused to pat his shoulder, “I think he will be. He has everything going for him right now.”

He took a deep breath and nodded, mumbling a thank you as she slipped out of the room, leaving him alone with Carlos once again.

“You hear that?” he asked him, reaching his hand back out and placing it on his wrist again, seeking the familiar rhythm of his pulse once more. “You have everything going for you. Which means it shouldn’t be much longer until I get to see those eyes of yours again.”

He tried to make his words confident, tried to infuse his voice with certainty. He wanted so desperately to believe it but he was so scared it wasn’t true. He leaned closer, bringing their joined hands up to his face and placing a kiss on Carlos’s. “You can’t leave me yet,” he reminded him, his voice dropping to barely a whisper, “we’re just getting started and we have a lifetime ahead of us. Don’t make me face it without you.”

He got no response and though he hadn’t expected one it still stung. Looking at Carlos like this stung. Looking at the face of the person he loved and seeing no recognition or acknowledgment stung in a way he couldn’t quite describe. Knowing that his body was here in the room but that everything that made him Carlos Reyes wasn’t ached with all the physical pain of a part of his own body missing and, in a way, it was. He and Carlos were one now; so intertwined their friends joked that sometimes it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began. They had been for a while and not seeing his smile or hearing his laugh felt like a missing limb.

His dark thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps and he turned to see Carlos’s parents in the doorway. He offered them a smile as they entered leaning back from the bed.

Andrea came up beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder as she leaned over to look at her son more closely.

“Any change?” she asked softly and TK shook his head.

“No, but the nurse said that the doctor will be by in the next couple of hours to check on him and we should know more after that.”

She nodded and turned to him, casting a critical look over him. “Did you sleep at all, TK?”

He nodded, “I did, I swear.”

Gabriel had crossed to the other side of the bed while they were talking, studying his son’s sleeping form as his wife and TK spoke. Now he looked up at TK.

“Was your father here?”

TK nodded, clenching his jaw ever so slightly at the reminder. “He was. He came in right after you left and was here when I fell asleep, he must have left at some point before I woke up.”

Gabriel nodded and TK could tell he also had more to say on the subject but instead he sighed heavily and ran a hand down his face before sinking into the chair Owen had occupied the night before. They all existed in silence for a few more moments before TK stood up. The other two both looked at him and he offered them a small attempt at a smile, “You two should have some time alone with him and,” he continued, speaking slightly louder as they tried to protest, “I should stretch my legs, maybe get some fresh air. Sitting in that chair all night may not have been the best idea.”

Andrea was watching him with a concerned expression, so he continued, “I’m okay, I swear. And I won’t be gone long, I promise.”

She nodded and gave him a smile, reaching out and squeezing his hand, “As long as you know you don’t have to leave. You have just as much right to be here as we do and I know Carlitos would want you here.”

“I do know that,” he assured her, finding what might be the first genuine smile since the smoke had drifted into their bedroom the night before. He nodded to Gabriel before stepping from the room, giving the Reyes some time with their son without an audience.

He rubbed at his eyes as he walked down the hall. He had meant what he said though: he needed to stretch his legs. Whatever sleep he had gotten the night before had been inadequate which wasn’t surprising, given everything, but it left him feeling wrung out. He needed to be on top of things so he could be there for Carlos and the way he was feeling now he wasn’t sure that was possible. Maybe moving would help; maybe getting his blood flowing would help to shake the lethargy that was pressing on him.

He had just reached the waiting room and was planning on continuing to the front doors to get some air when he heard his name called from the direction of the waiting room. He turned to see Paul, Marjan and Mateo settled in chairs nearby and changed course.

“What are you guys doing here?” he asked in surprise as Marjan stood up and pulled him into a hug.

“Checking on you, of course,” Paul explained as if it were obvious. “And Carlos. How is he?”

“No change since you left last night,” TK informed them glumly. Paul gave him a sympathetic smile and Marjan squeezed his arm. “How long have you guys been out here?”

“Not long,” Marjan told him. “Maybe 20 minutes. Cap said you were alone, but then we saw Carlos’s parents come in around the same time we got here so we figured none of you needed any more bodies in his room.”

“And where is my dad?” TK asked, unable to stop the disdain that entered his tone.

“I think he went home to take care of Buttercup,” Mateo offered. “I don’t know though; he didn’t say much.”

TK nodded tightly and he could tell that the others had noticed his tension, but they didn’t push and for that he was grateful. He wasn’t ready to talk about that particular disaster just yet.

“Have you eaten?” Paul asked instead, tactfully changing the subject. “One of us can go grab some food or…”

TK smiled, but shook his head. “I appreciate it, but I don’t think I’m ready to eat just yet,” he told them. “Maybe later, but right now…”

He trailed off but he was sure they all understood. Right now his was full of anxiety and fear. Focusing on something as normal as food seemed impossible.

“I’ll hold you too that,” Paul assured him firmly. “I know you’re worried, but you still need to take care of yourself so you can take care of him, when the time comes.”

TK nodded, offering a smile even as he could feel tears filling his eyes. He didn’t think he could ever find the words he to properly express the gratitude he felt at this moment for them all. Their presence and their unwavering certainty that Carlos would be okay. So he settled for a smile and nod. He trusted them to figure out the rest.

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

It’s several more hours before another familiar face appears.

Both Nancy and Tommy had called, had offered to stop by but he assured them he was fine. They had a shift after all and given the late noticed they would be doing it shorthanded. They didn’t need anything else to distract them from that. Carlos’s parents had stepped out about 10 minutes prior in search of some fresh air and some food that Andrea informed him in no uncertain terms he would be eating when they returned.

Even the doctor had been by. He had assured them all that Carlos was progressing nicely and that he would strongly consider taking him off the vent in the next few hours, if everything stayed the same. Which was good news. It was all good news, but TK still couldn’t shake the fear that filled him every time he saw Carlos’s slack face.

He was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of someone clearing their throat by the door and turned to see Judd studying him before turning his gaze briefly to Carlos. He entered the room and settled into the chair beside TK without a word, not speaking until he was sitting beside him.

“I don’t know how it’s possible,” he began, “but I think you look worse now than you did last night.”

TK rolled his eyes at the jab, but even he had to concede that there was probably some truth to that. “Not my fault that someone decide to test the limits of my nerves by spending the day in a coma,” he fired back, but there was no heat in his words.

Judd nodded solemnly. “I know exactly how you feel,” Judd admitted, and TK knew that he did. It hadn’t been so long ago their roles had been reversed and Judd had been the one in his position, waiting and hoping for the person he loved to open their eyes.

“Even then I wondered how you did it,” TK confided quietly. “I kept thinking I would never be able to, if it were Carlos in Grace’s position. I was right,” he proclaimed dryly, “because I am barely holding it together.”

“No one’s expecting you to,” Judd assured him. “You’re allowed to feel the way you feel and ain’t nobody gonna judge you for that. Least of all me. We’ve both been doing this for a while and we’ve both had our share of injuries. You know all about the physical pain, you learn how to handle that. But no one ever prepares you for when the shoe is on the other foot and you are the one doing the waiting because no one can.”

That sat in silence for a while before TK spoke again, his gaze trained on Carlos. “I just keep thinking about what would happen if he doesn’t wake up,” he admitted. “I wouldn’t be able to handle that.”

“You would,” Judd said softly, “because you’re stronger than you think, and you wouldn’t be alone. And because it’s what he would want. But it’s not going to come to that.”

“You can’t know that Judd.”

“No,” he agreed, “but I have faith. You should too.”

TK scoffed, “I’m hardly what you would consider religious. My mom may be Jewish, but we never really practiced, and religion was never really my dad’s thing. And I always found other ways of coping when things got tough,” he concluded bitterly. “So I don’t think ‘faith’ is my best option.”

“Doesn’t have to be religion,” Judd explained. “You don’t have to have faith in a higher power or anything, if that doesn’t work for you. The only person you need to have faith in is Carlos. Do you believe in him?”

“More than anybody,” TK agreed without a second thought.

“Then trust that he is going to do everything he can to make it through this because I personally believe he is every bit as stubborn as you, he’s just quieter about it. And I don’t think he’s ready to leave you yet either.”

TK pulled his gaze away from Carlos to study Judd. The other man looked so sure that TK couldn’t help but nod. He did believe in Carlos, after all.

“Can I ask you one more thing?” Judd asked a few minutes later, after they had lapsed back into silence. At TK’s nod he continued, “What’s going on with you and your old man?”

TK stiffened, but didn’t speak as Judd continued, “Because I find it strange that he’s not here and when I saw him this morning, he looked even worse than he did when you were the one in the coma, and I didn’t think that was possible. Can’t help but shake the feeling that there is something more to this.”

Judd was watching him expectantly and TK sighed. “They’re saying that the attack on out house was retaliation,” he admitted, “against him. The arsonist trying to scare him off, to get him to stop investigating.”

“Shit,” Judd breathed, and TK nodded. “I take it you talked to him about and I’m guessing it didn’t go well.”

“I know he didn’t do it on purpose,” TK agreed, “but the fact remains that he had no business getting involved in the first place. That I asked him to stop more than once. But he just carried on like he always does and, well.”

TK trailed off but his meaning was clear, given their current state and location.

Judd was quiet for a while before he spoke again. “Lord knows your dad’s not perfect, and he can be a frustrating sonofabitch, but if there is one thing I know for sure it’s that he loves you more than anything.”

“I know that,” TK agreed, “and I’m not saying I’m never going to forgive him. I know it’s not his fault. But I’m just not ready to forgive him just yet. I will, though.”

Judd nodded and they lapsed into comfortable silence, the sound of the heart monitor and the ventilator the only sounds between them.

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

Eventually the doctor determined it was safe to take Carlos off the vent and to wean him off the sedation. If TK had been determined to not miss anything before, now he was absolutely glued to his seat. He refused to miss the moment Carlos opened his eyes, not after staring at the sight of them closed for so long.

The moment he did was not dramatic, it looked as if he is just waking up on any given morning but it was still enough to bring tears to TK’s eyes.

“Hi baby,” he said softly, thickly, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek. He paused for a moment to brush away one of his tears that landed on Carlos’s face as Carlos gave him a smile. It was soft and warm, and it lingered even as Carlos’s eyes closed again as he drifted back to sleep a mere minute later.

TK sank back into his seat, feeling the relief wash over him like a tidal wave. He had woken up; that was the first step. From here everything should follow in time, and that was all he needed.

He exchanged smiles with his parents as he pulled out his phone, typing an update into the group chat. He received a deluge of emojis and exclamation points in return and he smiled.

Everything would be okay now; he was sure of it.

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

The rest of the day is filled with the long and arduous process of Carlos rejoining the land of the living, but TK couldn’t care less. He would watch Carlos open his eyes every single second if he could. It still felt like a miracle each and every time.

Slowly he was able to stay awake for longer periods of time and each time he became a little more lucid. It was sometime in the middle of the night that his voice pulled TK from his own restless slumber and he opened his eyes to see Carlos studying him in concern, his fingers lightly tracing the bandages on his arm.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice still raspy from both the vent and the smoke.

“Just some burns, nothing major,” TK assured him evenly. “I’m okay, I promise.”

“I’ve asked you that before, haven’t I?”

Carlos was giving him a pointed look and TK laughed, the first genuine laugh he had given in days.

“Yeah,” TK agreed, “but it’s okay. I’m pretty sure you’ll start to remember soon, and I don’t mind answering whatever questions you have as many times as it takes.”

Carlos smiled at him – bright and warm in the way only Carlos could manage – and TK felt the last vestiges of dread fall away. Carlos was going to be okay, and so were they. He couldn’t ask for anything more.

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

The next morning when Gabriel and Andrea showed up Gabriel looked at TK.

“They found the arsonist.”

“What?” TK asked in surprise, sitting upright in his chair. “When? How? Who was it?”

Gabriel gave a small smile at his rapid-fire questions as Carlos chuckled beside him before his expression grew more serious.

“It was a woman named Vicki Nadler. She apparently had a list of vendettas against people she felt had wronged her, and a few months ago she was turned down for a position as a paramedic.”

TK made the connection with a sense of dawning horror, “The position I got.”

Gabriel nodded and TK shook his head, staring down at his lap and avoiding the gazes of the others in the room, “Then it’s my fault. She was after me. God, Carlos, I am so…”

“Hey, Carlos said firmly, “it is not your fault.”

“He’s right,” Gabriel agreed, “people like that, there is no predicting what could set them off or what they perceive as a wrong against them. There is no way you could have known, but it wouldn’t have been your fault anyways. All you did was be the better candidate for a job.”

TK knew he was right, but that didn’t stop the guilt gnawing at his gut. Maybe the fire hadn’t been his fault, but something else was. And it was something he needed to fix right away.

The opportunity presented itself sooner than he thought. The Reyes stayed for a while, conversation flowing comfortably between the four of them. It was about an hour later when Gabriel broke off mid-sentence and cleared his throat.

“We should be going,” he said, standing from his seat and leaning down to give Carlos a hug. “We’ll come by later to check on you, Carlitos.”

TK gave Carlos a bewildered look, startled by the abrupt exit until a different but familiar voice drifted in from the doorway, “Don’t leave on my account. I just wanted to check in, I don’t want to get in anyone’s hair.”

TK stiffened at the sound of his dad’s voice and Carlos gave him a curious, if concerned, look.

“No,” Carlos’s mother added, “we really should be going anyways. I plan to bring by some home cooked food tomorrow which means I need to be home to cook it. We’ll see you boys later, let us know if you need anything.”

Then, with a kiss from Andrea for both Carlos and TK, the Reyes were gone and it was only Owen Strand left standing awkwardly in the doorway.

He glanced at TK, who looked down before shifting his focus to Carlos, a wide smile spreading across his face.

“It’s good to see you awake, Carlos, how are you feeling?”

“It’s good to be awake,” Carlos agreed, reaching out for TK’s hand and squeezing it. “And much better, thank you.”

Owen nodded and glance again at TK, who still had yet to meet his dad’s eyes. He could feel Carlos’s hand tighten on his as his boyfriend spoke again, “My dad was just telling us that they caught the arsonist.”

“Yeah,” TK heard his dad agreed with a scoff, “that was a surprise. Definitely did not see that one coming.”

Carlos hummed appreciatively and TK took a breath and looked up, meeting his dad’s eyes for the first time. He was startled to see the same look in them as before; when TK had finally fallen into a fitful sleep all those nights ago, after he had blamed his dad for everything.

“Dad, I…” he started, but Owen shook his head.

“You don’t need to apologize son,” he said gently. “You didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”

“Still,” TK insisted, “I implied. And not only was I wrong, but I never should have even hinted that it was your fault. I know you would have never put us in danger, and I knew that then too. I was just...” he trailed off, not sure there were words to describe everything he had been feeling that night. “I’m sorry,” he said instead, “really.”

His dad held his gaze for several moments before he smiled, and TK could almost see the weight sliding off his shoulders.

“I’m sorry too,” he admitted. “I still should have listened to you when you asked me to stop. I know you were worried, and I should have listened. I really should have never gotten involved in the first place.”

“Promise me you’ll never try to take on an arsonist on your own again and we’ll call it even,” TK offered and Owen laughed, crossing over to slid into the chair on the other side of the bed.

“Deal,” he promised. “My crime fighting days are over. I’ll leave that to the professionals,” he added with a nod at Carlos. Carlos looked baffled, looking between TK and Owen in confusion before shaking his head.

“I’d be lying if I said I had any idea what that was about,” he admitted, “but I’m glad you got it sorted out.”

“I’ll tell you later,” TK promised, squeezing the hand still holding his own, “we have time.”

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

A week later Carlos is finally cleared to leave the hospital.

“Are you sure your dad doesn’t mind?” Carlos asked for the fourth time in the past hour, “I’m sure we can find somewhere else to stay.”

“He wouldn’t have offered if he wasn’t sure Carlos,” TK pointed out. “Besides, he kind of insisted. I don’t really think we had much of a choice, actually. It makes sense too: there is plenty of room and it’s close enough to the station that once I have to go back to work if you need something during the day either I or someone else on the crew can take care of it without a problem.”

“I’ll be fine, TK. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Humor me,” TK asked drily, and Carlos rolled his eyes. “Besides,” he added, closing the bag he had been packing and crossing the side of the bed where Carlos was sitting and stepping into his space, “I’m always going to worry about you, just like I know you always worry about me. So don’t be a hypocrite, Carlos Reyes. It’s unbecoming.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow, “Unbecoming, huh?”

“Yes,” TK confirmed with a solemn nod, “extremely so.”

“Maybe I could change your mind,” Carlos suggested, placing his hands on his hips and pulling him closer.

“You can always try,” TK agreed. He leaned closer, happily giving into the kiss that Carlos initiated when a sudden voice from the doorway startled him, causing him to pull away abruptly.

“You sure your doctor cleared you to do that, Carlos?”

“Dad!” TK exclaimed, burying his head into Carlos’s shoulder for a moment before turning to face his dad with a scowl, “could you not?”

“What?” Owen asked innocently and TK groaned.

Carlos chuckled, though his red face betrayed his own embarrassment and TK took pity on him by changing the subject, “We’re all set to go, we just handled the last of the paperwork.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” he asked. “Unless you want to see if they’ll let you stay…”

“No,” Carlos cut in emphatically. “I’d rather leave now, before they change their minds.”

TK rolled his eyes fondly but offered Carlos an arm to lean on as he stood from the bed. He helped him into the wheelchair a nurse had dropped off as his dad grabbed their bag and they headed towards the door. His dad’s truck was waiting outside, and he helped Carlos into it before climbing in besides him. He studied his boyfriend, noting how much the quick activity had taken out of him.

Carlos noticed him looking and shook his head, “I’m fine TK,” he said before he could ask, “I’ve just been stuck in a bed for a week. My endurance will come back, I just need to build it back up.”

“Yeah well, as long as you do it slowly,” TK reminded him. “Pushing yourself could do more harm than good.”

“As I have been reminded multiple times by both the doctors, nurses, and my paramedic boyfriend. I know, Ty. I’ll be careful, I promise.”

TK shook his head fondly at him before turning his gaze out the window. He frowned as he processed their surroundings. This wasn’t the way to his dad’s house. He should know; he had done this trip more times than he ever cared to count.

“Where are we going?” he asked his dad, who just smiled at them in the rearview mirror.

“You’ll see.”

He exchanged a confused look with Carlos, who shrugged.

It wasn’t long before the roads grew more familiar, and TK realized where they were going.

“Dad…” he started but trailed off. He didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t been to their house since. He knew he probably should have gone to see what could be salvaged, but he hadn’t been able to bring himself too. He knew that he probably should, but now seemed like a poor choice in time.

“Turns out,” Owen explained as they took another turn, bringing them closer to where their home had been, “it wasn’t actually a total loss. Some structural damage, yes, but nothing that couldn’t be repaired. And we’ve had the best working on it all week. As of this morning they informed me they were just putting on the finishing touches.”

TK stared at his dad. “Are you saying,” he began, “that you hired people to rebuild our house?”

“Hired seems like a strong word,” Owen replied thoughtfully. “They mostly volunteered and they only thing I’ve been paying them in is takeout.”

TK was even more confused now and glanced at Carlos to see his own befuddlement mirrored on his face. Before they could ask any more questions, they made the last turn, bringing them to their street.

TK couldn’t do anything but stare because there was their house, looking none the worst for the wear. He looked over at Carlos to see the same shock in his expression. Their eyes met and TK could see that there were tears in Carlos’s eyes too to match the ones he could feel forming in his own. He reached out and grabbed Carlos’s hand, winding their fingers together as his dad came to a stop and started talking again.

“We did hire a contractor – a friend of Judd’s – to handle the major structural work and to make sure everything was up to code, but for the most part it’s just been the crew and some friends.” He turned in his seat so he could see them as he smiled, “Turns out there were a lot of people that wanted to help you both. There’s been people from other fire stations, some people from Carlos’s precinct; it’s been a pretty full house here. Which was good, because it meant that we were able to get it done in time.”

TK was at a loss for words. A glance at Carlos told him that he wasn’t any better off. Owen watched them both for a bit longer before he laughed, “Do you guys want to sit in my truck all day, or do you want to go home?”

Without a word TK slid out of the backseat, reaching in to help Carlos out as well. He wrapped an arm around Carlos’s waist as they moved up the front walk, letting him lean on him as he opened the door and they stepped inside.

There was a small crowd in their living room, but it was their living room. It looked much the same as it had. Sure, some of the decorations and knick-knacks they had lying around were gone and the furniture was definitely different, but it felt the same.

TK looked around, noticing the same elsewhere. It wasn’t the same, but it was standing and that was more than he could have ever asked for at this point. He looked over at the gathered crowd: his crew – both fire and medical, Officer Mitchell, Carlos’s parents. They were all standing and beaming at them and TK was too overwhelmed to put everything he was feeling into words.

Thankfully, they seemed to understand.

“It’s not like we were about to let you be homeless,” Marjan quipped as she stepped closer, “besides, we’re pretty handy.”

TK looked up at Carlos, who met his gaze. His eyes and expression were warm, and TK knew he was feeling the same thing he was: the love emanating from every square inch of their home from these people who cared so much; who had done so much to help them.

“Thank you,” he finally managed to get out. “I know it’s not nearly enough to cover everything you’ve all done but…thank you.”

There was chatter then as everyone started talking at once, assuring them that they were happy to do it, that no thanks were needed. There were hugs then and smiles and laughter from all around and through it all, TK never let go of Carlos once. ‘

Eventually Andrea made her way over to them and pulled them each into a warm, strong hug. TK savored it, beaming at her when she pulled back.

“Welcome back home,” she told them, Gabriel materializing at her side with a smile.

TK took another look around, at the gathered crowd already digging into the food that had been provided, through the combined efforts of Charles and Andrea, no doubt. He found his dad in the crowd and met his eyes, giving him another smile of thanks. He’d find time to talk to him soon; to make sure he knew exactly how much he appreciated everything he had done for them, but for now the smile he got in return told him it was enough.

Finally, he looked at Carlos, who like him had been surveying the room. He felt TK’s eyes on his and turned to meet his gaze, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of his head. TK smiled and turned back to his boyfriend’s parents who were still standing in front of them and watching them with fond smiles on their faces. It was all he could ask for; in all honesty it was more than he had ever dreamed.

He returned the Reyes’s smiles and squeezed the hand now intertwined with his own.

“It’s good to be home.”

#maizsnex

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