Prompt: TK having a nightmare so bad to where it makes him have an asthma attack? And Carlos being the sweetheart he is takes care of TK and yeah. Sorry I’m bad at explaining things
Breathe, Tyler
Claimed by Red💋
I hope you enjoy!! :)
TK had been on edge all day. He had a feeling that something bad was going to happen, but his shift passed without much trouble. As he saw Carlos waiting for him, he felt a little better, but it was still in the back of his mind. He immediately seeked comfort from Carlos, wrapping his arms tightly around Carlos and burying his head in Carlos’s shoulder. “Hey Tiger...everything alright?”
TK nodded into his chest. “Just had a bad feeling all day. Nothing happened so I still feel anxious over it,” he muttered, hugging Carlos tighter.
Carlos wrapped his arms more securely around TK, pressing a kiss to the back of his head. “Let’s go home.”
____________
Being at home with Carlos was nice, he almost forgot about that feeling he’d had all day. He was able to relax and laugh with Carlos as they ate dinner and chilled in the main room. Eventually, TK felt his eyes growing more heavy. He fought it at first, wanting to finish the movie with Carlos to see his reaction. As Carlos ran his fingers through TK’s hair and this other hand rubbed slow circles on his side, TK couldn’t fight it.
“Possible cardiac event,” Michelle stated as she led his dad and the rest of the team to the house.
“I’m being told bedroom southwest corner,” the dispatcher called through the radio.
“Copy,” Owen responded. As they made it to the bathroom, Owen knocked on the door, “Austin Fire and Rescue.”
“Please help, he’s not breathing,” the woman shouted from inside.
His dad nodded to him and TK stepped up to the door, battering ram ready. With each back and forth swing he counted, “one, two, three,” and he hit the door. Two bangs sounded. The door hit the wall and the little boy pulled the trigger on the gun.
TK clutched the wall, a noise leaving his lips. Everything was so loud. He could hear his team calling his name, his dad was gripping him...but he couldn’t breathe. He tried to say as much as he collapsed. He clutched desperately to his dad. It wasn’t fair. He was making his dad watch him die again.
God, he’s dying. I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe, Ican’tbreathe ican’tbreatheican’tbreathefuckican’tbreathe.
He can see Carlos and the other officers run down the hallway, pushing his crew to the side to get to the gun. Then Carlos just stops moving once the gun is secured. And fuck it if he still can’t breathe, especially when Carlos looks at him like that. With his brown eyes so wide and filled with panic and pain. Was Carlos hurt? Is that why there was pain in his eyes. TK was a lost cause, he needed to let Michelle look over Carlos.
“C-ca,” he coughed, feeling something warm start running from his lips.
“TK, keep your eyes open, Son,” his father was sitting behind him, hands on his cheeks.
When had he closed his eyes? TK’s free hand went up to clutch his chest. God it hurt so fucking much. Why couldn’t he breathe?
“Tyler Kennedy Strand, you’re not dying on me. Do you hear me, Son? You fight, you keep breathing. I don’t care how much it hurts. You keep breathing TK.”
“Da-” he muttered, feeling his eyes shut. His eyes snapped back open. He had to stay awake to stay with his dad. He didn’t want to cause his dad more pain.
“We need to move him now,” Michelle called. When did she get beside him. “TK, keep your eyes open, Sweetheart. I need to be able to see those pretty green eyes.”
He was trying. He was trying so hard. But it hurt. He couldn’t breathe. He COULDN’T BREATHE for fuck’s sake. He tried to apologize, he wasn’t sure if it came across or not because in the next moment, he felt his chest seize and that definitely hurt like a bitch.
“Tyler! TYLER, WAKE UP,” when did Carlos get to his side. He couldn’t feel him.
Just as he felt as if his chest was too tight, TK shot up.
He gulped in the air greedily, but he couldn’t get his breath back. He could hear the wheeze in his intake of air. Now was not the time to be having an asthma attack, he told himself. Fuck, he was awake, he should be able to breathe.
“Easy Tyler,” Carlos placed one hand on the junction between his neck and arm while the other cradled his cheek. “Deep breaths.”
“C-can’t,” he wheezed out. “A-As,” he coughed, “Asth-”
“Asthma. You have Asthma?”
TK could only nod as his chest continued to constrict painfully. He pointed to his duffel bag. He hadn’t thought he’d ever need to use the inhaler again. He’d been fine all throughout the fire academy and his time on the job. He was very glad he’d kept it just in case.
Carlos hurried to his duffel, digging through it before letting out a small ‘Aha’ at finding it. He quickly brought it over to TK, shaking it for him. TK shakily reached for it, but Carlos didn’t let go, helping TK to get the inhaler to his lips for a couple of puffs before sitting it down on the coffee table.
Carlos seemed slightly jittery, eyes fluttering all over TK. Carlos had sat with people with Asthma on the job, but he’d never been there for the taking care of them part. Was there something else he was supposed to do? Did he need to take TK to the doctor? Should he call Captain Strand?
As he began reaching for his phone, TK caught his arm. “Don’t worry him,” TK rasped, still trying to get the air to properly circulate through his lungs and body.
“I-I’m at a loss here, Tyler. I don’t-I don’t know w-what to do,” his eyes were wide and he was definitely working himself into a panic.
“No...panic...attack,” he clutched onto Carlos’s shoulder, still shaking from the dream and the asthma attack.
“Do I need to take you to the doctor? I should-I should call your Dad. He’d want to know that you had an Asthma attack. Why didn’t you tell me you had Asthma? That-that’s important. I told you about my allergy to-”
“Hasn’t happened...in a while,” he whispered, still shaking but mostly getting his breath back. The attack didn’t seem to be making a reappearance. “Water?”
Carlos was up in a second, returning quickly with a bottle of mineral water. TK drank it gingerly, not wanting to upset his wind pipes again by restricting air for too long by guzzling the water down. “Doing...fine, ‘Los,” he whispered.
“Do you need anything else?”
“Cuddles,” he muttered. Carlos was cradling him to his side within the next few seconds. “I was back there,” he took a breath. “Battering ram hit the door...gun went off...couldn’t breathe.”
Carlos held him closer. “I’m sorry,” he muttered against TK’s forehead. “I’m sorry I can’t protect you from that,” he continued.
TK hit his chest in protest, giving Carlos a glare. “Not your fault.”
“I feel like it is. I’m the one who’s supposed to get shot at, not you. And now you have nightmares about it and you shouldn’t have to have those kinds of nightmares,” he stated.
“Both dangerous jobs. Can’t help it. Not your fault. Love you,” he relaxed against Carlos. “Helps just being in your arms.”
