words: 3.9k
bthb: poisoning
title: sleeping at last - mercury
unbeta'd because i wrote this all in one sitting without an outline and dont need someone else to tell me it's bad
dedicated to my beloved @marjansmarwani <3 carlos whump for the soul
AO3
TK is as surprised as the rest of his team when dispatch informs them that their medical call was taking them to the APD precinct, and TK couldn’t fight the fear that shot down his spine like an ice-cold lightning bolt as he thought about who he knew was on shift.
But he was texting Carlos not even an hour ago, and his fiance wouldn’t have had enough time to go out on a call, get secretly injured and return in that timeframe.
The most likely reason why they were called in was for a civilian. Officers were usually having their medical emergencies outside of the precinct, in the field where everything that could go wrong tended to.
“Don’t jump to conclusions,” Nancy chided from the passenger seat. “I know you think that if you look away from him for two seconds then the roof is going to cave down on his head but I assure you, he’s fine.”
“He’s on shift though. And all we know from dispatch is that we have a mid-twenties male who’s not in a good way,” TK said, trying to keep his tone neutral.
“They also said he appeared to be really sick. It doesn’t make any sense if Carlos was sick enough to need an ambo visit you would’ve noticed something was off with him this morning. You’re not an idiot, TK.”
“Still.”
“I’m sure if he’s there he’s using all his TK-enforced medical knowledge to help out as best he can.”
The rest of the ambulance ride was tense, but Nancy kept her light banter, mixing it with the odd reassurance as they moved through the streets of Austin. TK would never admit it but she was a good presence to have at times of stress, however mild or severe.
Thankfully, as soon as they crossed through the main entrance, an officer TK didn’t recognise scurried over to them, “this way, he’s really not well.”
“Can you tell us what happened?” Tommy beat TK to the punch. His mind was miles ahead of hers but hers was much clearer.
“I heard him being sick in the bathroom and thought maybe it was just a hungover civilian, a newbie with nerves or someone who lucked out with food poisoning so I didn’t think too much of it. After all, people tend to want privacy when they’re not feeling great but by the time I washed my hands I could still hear him throwing up.”
TK hissed in sympathy, not something he particularly felt like doing in the APD bathrooms after everything he’d heard about them from Carlos’ peeved text messages.
“I knocked on the door, just wanting to ask if there was anything I could do to help but he didn’t even lock the stall behind him. I took one look and knew he was really not well,” the officer continued, still walking at a brisk pace a few steps ahead of the crew. He seemed very agitated, sweeping his hands in large and frantic gestures as he talked. “I stayed with him for a bit, thinking I’d help him get cleaned up once he finished and talk to the captain about him heading home, but he just seemed to get worse and worse.”
TK scanned the bullpen, looking for any sign of Carlos, only to come up with his desk unoccupied. So he was probably out on a call, but TK couldn’t help the tiny part of his brain that was screaming at him.
“My partner called 911 when he just started shaking and muttering,” the officer pushed open the door at the furthest end of the bullpen, “he’s right in here. The first stall.”
They really didn’t need much clarification as there were a few officers gathered around, hovering nervously around the opening of the stall.
TK was the first one into the stall, catching sight of the sweat-slicked black curls that made his heart leap to his throat. “Alright can I get some space with the patient please?”
The officers parted easily, leaving TK to kneel on the floor of the bathroom stall and sling his bag off of his shoulder, unzipping it quickly. Carlos was leaning heavily against the side, sweat dripping off of him by the bucket. From what he had gathered from the other officer’s story, there was no way Carlos wasn’t dehydrated by now.
“Hey Carlos, how are you holding up?” TK asked softly, easily slipping his gloves on.
“TK?”
“Yeah, I’m here and I’m gonna take real good care of you.”
Groaning, Carlos reached out a hand to rest on TK’s knee, a simple contact, a much bigger comfort. “I told them not to call 911. It’s not that bad, babe. It’s nothing.”
“It doesn’t sound like nothing,” TK said, clicking his tongue. “I’m just gonna take your pulse if that’s alright?”
Carlos nodded, “mmhmm.”
Taking Carlos’ wrist in his hand and pressing his fingers over the pulse point, TK felt his own pulse spike. Carlos’ heart was racing, which he had to remind himself made sense for the amount of vomiting that had been going on.
“Pulse is 160, Cap.”
Tachycardia.
“That’s high,” Carlos hummed, his eyes heavy-lidded and not even looking at him.
“Can you tell me what symptoms you’ve been having?”
“Sick, mostly. My head is pounding and I’m a bit shaky. Mostly just throwing up my organs.” Carlos winced seemingly just at the thought of it, clearly the events leading up to their arrival had been particularly unpleasant. TK knew how much Carlos hated vomiting, insisting that he had never done so since he was fourteen, taking outrageous lengths to avoid it every time he was nauseous.
“That doesn’t sound very fun, but hopefully we can get you sorted out soon so you’ll feel better.”
TK turned to look over his shoulder, to find Nancy handing him a pulse ox before he could even ask. “Respirations are 24– pretty shallow.”
There wasn’t enough room for them to run vitals together but that was something she could do just by watching. Which TK was grateful for as he was too busy trying to figure out everything else to focus on counting respirations.
“You know the routine, I’m just gonna clip this on your finger. Might be a bit tight or uncomfortable.”
Carlos just hummed again, “go for gold.”
TK clipped the pulse oximeter on easily enough, already grabbing for the appropriate BP cuff as he waited for the reading, a soft beeping filling the air as it counted Carlos’ heartbeats.
“Have you taken any medication today?”
He was met with another lethargic noncommittal noise as Carlos found the energy to speak. “Tylenol–for the headache.”
“And when was that?”
“Few hours ago.”
“How many did you take?”
“Two.”
TK straightened Carlos’ finger to check the blinking red display on the screen of the pulse oximeter.
“SpO2 of 98%,” TK relayed, moving on quickly. That was a completely normal reading and it did good to ease his mind, even if it was only a tiny bit. “I’m going to take your blood pressure now, okay?”
Carlos just nodded this time, offering his arm to TK who was quick to feel for Carlos’ pulse, his fingers only needing to meet the inside of his elbow for a brief moment before TK felt it, a steady and strong thrum against his fingers.
The tearing of velcro was the loudest thing in the room as TK moved to wrap the cuff around Carlos’ bicep. “Are you still with me?” he asked as nonchalantly as possible, noticing Carlos’ silence and faraway look.
“Not going anywhere.”
“Good.” The diaphragm of TK’s stethoscope found its place in the same position his fingers had been a mere moment ago as he adjusted the way the air bulb sat in his palm. Twisting the valve shut in a few short movements between forefinger and thumb, he was ready to inflate the cuff.
“It’s going to get a bit tight in a few seconds but it’ll be quick.”
Carlos just hummed, completely used to the process by now.
TK watched the dial on the gauge climb with every pump of the bulb, until it hit 180 and he twisted the valve ever so slightly in the other direction. With a soft whoosh the cuff began to deflate.
The thunderous noise of Carlos’ heartbeat began filling his ears as the dial slid past the 150 mark– not ideal.
TK took the stethoscope out of his ears and completely opened the valve to let the cuff completely deflate as soon as he couldn’t hear the heartbeat anymore. Casually moving to remove the cuff he spoke.
“150/95.”
Hypertension.
Carlos furrowed his brows, undoubtedly trying to remember what normal readings were meant to be. TK didn’t think he’d figure it out, he seemed to be quite far out of it.
“When was the last time you had anything to eat or drink?”
“Lunch.” Carlos’ eyes were shut now as he tilted his head to lean against the wall behind him, taking slow and calculated breaths, his lips parted.
“What’d you have?”
“A sandwich, cupcakes Nate brought.”
TK was pulling his pupil torch out of his pocket as Carlos lurched, scrambling to hold onto the toilet and heave himself over it before throwing up. TK was quick to follow suit and support his partner’s frame as he heaved and shook with the force of his own bile leaving his mouth.
At least there was no blood in it. That was good enough for TK as he helped to aid his trembling boyfriend back into his previous position, wiping some of the curls plastered to Carlos’ forehead away in a slightly unprofessional manner.
“Nancy, run a line of saline,” Tommy’s voice came from behind them.
“On it, Cap.”
Carlos looked around lazily, still seeming quite dazed as he spoke. “Why? I don’t need an IV.”
“It’s just for dehydration, you’ve been throwing up a lot,” TK explained softly, in his most reassuring voice possible.
Reaching back into the kit on his belt TK grabbed his pupil torch again and clicked it on. “Just look at me while she does that. You’re going to feel a little pinch and I’m going to shine this light in your eyes. It’ll be a bit bright but just keep your eyes open and it will only take a couple seconds.”
Carlos was a wonderful patient, he didn’t even flinch as Nancy cannulated him and he just happily looked straight at TK as the light passed into the far side of one eye, and then the other.
As the light disappeared back into TK’s belt, Carlos blinked rapidly, a few tears gathering on his lash line.
“A bit bright?”
Carlos just nodded.
“Pupils are dilated but round and responsive.”
Here came the hard part.
“Any drugs or alcohol?”
“Nothing like that,” Carlos pursed his lips and looked up at TK with cloudy yet quizzical eyes, “why?”
“Just routine questions,” he explained with a shrug that he hoped seemed nonchalant and natural.
“Did you hit your head at all?”
“No.”
TK didn’t even notice Nancy move until she spoke softly. “Temp of 103°.”
Fever. TK had suspected as much.
It wasn’t a dramatic ordeal, but they would definitely have to take him to the hospital. Probably just to ride out the dehydration with an IV for a few hours and then sent on his merry way. But the hospital was definitely their next visit.
“Nancy, can you get the stretcher from the bus?”
“On it.”
TK was glad he had a team because he didn’t want to be away from Carlos for even a split second, let alone long enough to get the stretcher through the bullpen. But Tommy and Nancy had his back, they always would.
“We’re gonna have to swing by the hospital, get you checked out,” TK explained, already preparing for an objection.
“Seems dramatic, but I’m sitting in a puddle of sweat.”
“That you are. Think you’ll be able to walk to the stretcher when Nancy gets back?”
Carlos looked at him for a few moments before nodding slightly. “I can do it.”
Getting Carlos off the floor of the bathroom stall was not the easiest endeavour of TK’s career, the lack of space making it quite difficult to get the two of them on their feet but they made it in the end, Carlos leaning heavily on TK with half-lidded eyes.
“Just a few steps, yeah?” TK asked, making sure to shoulder as much of Carlos as possible, seeing how close Carlos was to losing the strength he needed to keep himself upright.
“I can do it, don’t worry,” Carlos assured him, clinging onto his boyfriend with one arm, his IV bag in hand as TK used both of his arms to support his weight.
Unfortunately the stretcher wouldn’t make it into the bathroom so Carlos had to walk out the door to get to it, but TK had hold of him and there was no way in hell that he was going to let go.
Carlos trudged on without a word, gaze transfixed on the door and the stretcher that lay just beyond it. He knew he had to get there, but only had to take himself that far and TK’s team would take care of the rest.
No matter what, they were there and they weren’t going to anything short of everything possible to help him.
“You’re doing great, just a bit further and you can kick your feet up.”
Just when TK thought it would just be a few more steps and this nightmare would be halfway over with Carlos situated on the stretcher, Carlos’ steps halted quite jarringly, startling TK.
“What is it?” TK asked, turning to Carlos, keeping his grip on his fiance firm, stabilising.
Just in time to see the rapid blinking as Carlos’ head tipped to the sky and his knees buckled.
It took all of TK’s fast reflexes just to keep Carlos from clipping his head on the sink as he went down. The tremors were full blown convulsions by the time the two of them hit ground.
“He’s seizing!” TK hissed, quickly turning Carlos onto his side.
“I’m timing it,” Nancy supplied hastily. If TK dared look away from Carlos he would likely find her looking frantically between her watch and Carlos’ quivering body.
It was the longest two minutes of TK’s life.
To kneel there helplessly while Carlos’ frame was wracked with a seizure was something TK had never imagined. Watching the spasms of his limbs, the jerky movements of his head, listening to the grunts and groans that bounced off the tile walls of this small space.
Horrific. If TK were to describe it in a single word.
Slowly, the seizure tapered off, as Carlos stilled, TK felt like he could breathe again.
He gave Carlos’ mouth a quick sweep, ensuring that it was clear, only a thick stream of saliva to drip onto the floor. “Airway is clear, he’s breathing.”
“Take another set of vitals,” Tommy instructed calmly but TK knew her well, he heard that unfamiliar edge to her voice.
Nancy took the lead on the next set, clearly sensing that TK was otherwise distracted, waiting for any signs of consciousness following the seizure. But he listened in as she relayed her findings.
“Pulse 165bpm.”
Carlos didn’t move, but TK’s eyes were locked on him, watching the slight way his lips shifted with every breath. He was breathing, he was going to be okay, he had to be.
“Respirations 18.”
Normal. TK had to convince himself that Carlos was going to be fine lest he fall apart right here and now in the bathroom of the APD precinct. Some rational part of his brain had to cling onto something that wasn’t the worst case scenario despite the fact that he just watched the love of his life have a seizure.
“SpO2 89.”
Panic struck. TK was about to move for the first time since Carlos stopped seizing, only to find Tommy had somehow appeared next to him, already sliding an oxygen mask over Carlos’ face and setting the tank next to TK’s leg.
“BP 85/50.”
“Let’s hook him up to the lifepak, TK help me roll him on his back,” Tommy said. But it lacked the firmness of an instruction, regardless of how eager TK was to do exactly as she said.
Carlos’ eyes remained firmly closed as Tommy anchored his head in place, maintaining his airway.
“TK, can you put an OPA in?”
“Yes, Cap,” TK said, a little too hastily.
There was something sickening about measuring up the airway. He’d done it a million times before but never like this, never lining up each end of the hook-shaped plastic tube with Carlos’ earlobe and the corner of his mouth, carefully shifting a reservoir mask out of the way.
The one with the blue tip was the perfect size.
TK couldn’t help his hand shaking as he used the other to hold open Carlos’ mouth, sliding the end of the OPA against the roof of his mouth until he felt resistance, and in the fluid motion he twisted the plastic and it easily fell into place with little assistance on his part, the plastic rim catching on Carlos’ teeth.
Realistically it had only taken him ten seconds, but it felt like forever.
He couldn’t stop himself from thinking of exactly how far the other end of the airway sat down Carlos’ throat.
Nancy was quick to unbutton Carlos’ shirt instead of pulling out her trauma shears, after all it was halfway undone when they arrived so why hack apart his uniform?
With the fluid placement of the pads and wires, Nancy clicked the lifepak on, the display quickly piecing itself together to show the team what they wanted to see. A normal rhythm.
“Okay, TK, on the count of three I want you to turn Carlos towards you, and Nancy get that backboard under him.”
If TK took a backseat in his brain it was normal, standard procedure. Nancy shifted the lifepak to the other side of Carlos’ pelvis, next to TK as she retrieved the backboard, lining up the green plastic with Carlos’ head and feet.
“One, two, three–”
TK tucked a hand over Carlos’ shoulder, the other on his hip and pulled Carlos toward him and Tommy followed the motion, stabilising Carlos’ head, using her knee to hold her hand steady.
Nancy slid the backboard into place and with another count, Carlos was tipped back onto it and adjusted until he was situated perfectly in the centre.
Tommy and Nancy handled the whole affair of strapping him in and positioning the lifepack, oxygen tank and fluid bag. One between his ankles, the other on top of his legs, the last on his chest. TK just allowed himself the small kindness of running his fingers through Carlos’ hair, sweat-soaked strands catching on his nylon gloves, his fiance’s face unmoving.
Then it was just a matter of calling a few of the lingering officers back in to assist them in lifting the backboard onto the stretcher, Tommy completely taking charge, letting TK slip into autopilot as Carlos was secured and the stretcher lifted up to full height with a firm click.
-
Carlos woke slowly, like he was simply waking up from a nap instead of a seizure and likely overdose. At least that’s what the doctors said his labs indicated.
He’d been swapped from a reservoir mask to a nasal cannula as his oxygen levels improved and held steady since arriving at the hospital; he looked much more himself without half of his face obscured by medical-grade plastic.
Fortunately TK had been able to stay by his side the entire time, Tommy and Nancy not even mentioning it as they told him they had to get back to shift, Tommy pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head as they left, urging him to call with any updates. So he’d been sitting in a little curtained-off room of the ER in his paramedic uniform for three hours and he was itching to wear anything made of a fabric less firm and scratchy.
“Hey, handsome,” TK said, a soft smile curling his lips, “have a good sleep?”
Carlos took a few moments to process what TK said, clearly still piecing together his surroundings and where they lined up with his most recent memories. “Mm, what happened?”
“We’re not entirely sure yet but the doctors think it was an overdose.”
“An overdose of what?”
TK sighed. “Antidepressants, they think. I guess they just uh,” he gestured vaguely to his head, “yeah.”
Carlos’ face scrunched up in confusion. “But I didn’t take anything.”
“That’s the tricky part. Also the part that is going to have one of your coworkers coming by this evening to talk to you about. Especially due to your career, there’s a slight, but not negligible possibility that it may have been a targeted attack.”
“Are you saying that I got poisoned?”
TK hurried to interject. “We’re not sure, but it’s a possibility.”
“How would that have even happened?”
“Possibly if you ate or drank something that someone else prepared for you. Otherwise I’m not too sure. No one is saying that is what happened but until we know how you ended up overdosing, it’s still an option.”
Just the idea of someone setting out with intention to harm Carlos made TK’s stomach churn, it wasn’t the first time and yet he feared it may not be the last.
Carlos went eerily silent, a dark look overcoming his features. “The cupcakes… that Nate brought.”
Now that was a shock. Nathan was Carlos’ partner, they’d worked together for years and Carlos trusted him completely, with his life every call they went on. It made no sense, but Nate wasn’t at the precinct when TK walked in.
“And where was Nate when the ambulance arrived?” TK asked slowly, careful not to insinuate anything.
Carlos shook his head. “He went home not long after our lunch break– he wasn’t feeling well.”
That made more sense, but still made TK’s blood run cold. Considering the state they found Carlos in a matter of hours ago, what could be said for his partner who fell ill sooner and wasn’t admitted to the hospital three hours ago?
He was already pulling out his phone and scrolling through his contacts before Carlos could even speak, pressing the phone to his ear.
“Nathan Lovell. I’m not here right now, you know what to do.”
“Fuck.”
TK hung up and redialed faster than he could think to do it, his body just knowing what to do of its own accord.
“Nathan Lovell. I’m not-”
TK’s attention was grabbed by the loud opening of the ambulance bay doors just up the corridor, pulling the phone away from his ear to listen.
“Twenty-seven year-old male. Presented as a fever and blurred vision but now possible overdose. Seized twice since we arrived on scene. Arrested as we pulled in just now.”
“Resus is open, straight through those doors.”
Through the gap in the curtain TK watched the stretcher whisk past, swarmed with medical personnel. Nancy Gillian straddling the patient and delivering chest compressions.
“Is that–” Carlos started, sitting up to get a better look despite the fact that the scene before them was already long gone.
20 prompts for every emotion - anger #8 “You lost them? How do you lose a whole person!”
[anger 19] [fear 11] [fear 19] [surprise 7]
title: our mirage - nightfall
word count: 2.3k
a 4x03 coda of sorts
The 126 very quickly left after TK’s phone call with Carlos, having picked up on his sour energy. He knew he had fucked up with the visit to Iris but he didn’t imagine that things would have gone this bad because of it.
Obviously he knew that he didn’t cause her kidnapping, but the firm edge Carlos had regarded him with felt like the blade of a knife against his skin, like if he moved he would bleed all over Carlos’ favourite rug. He’d grabbed his phone only once since the call and that was to text Carlos, just a quick ‘Sleep well, I love you xx’. He had hoped Carlos would reply, make it seem like he at least wanted to talk to him and wasn’t still angry, but TK couldn’t get that lucky.
Radio silence.
TK supposed he should be grateful for it, maybe the distance meant they wouldn’t get into an argument tonight and that Carlos would feel better tomorrow. Maybe things would be easier because they spent tonight apart.
He had slept alone at the loft before. Often Carlos would be working late or even working a night shift and TK would be left alone to ponder about the loft until he went to bed by himself. But that typically came with the promise that Carlos would join him in bed during the night or be there puttering around in the kitchen when he woke.
Maybe Carlos would come back in the morning before his shift, maybe TK would wake up to the sound of something frying for breakfast, but maybe he would wake up alone.
hello hello i was feeling a bit inspired last night and it's wednesday so here's a lil something from the rockstar au
Some part of Carlos knew he shouldn't be doing this, but he was staring down the blinking cursor and empty search bar, and he knew he was going to do it anyway. Boundaries be damned, he figured anything he would learn now was public information anyway.
Fingers swiftly moving over his keyboard, Carlos input the few characters he knew he wanted to see the results of.
TK Strand.
His finger hovered in place above the enter key. He didn't even care for the guy, in fact, he couldn't stand him. Some part of him, however, felt the need to know just a little more. There was some puzzle piece he was missing. After all, it would take a lot for someone with as truly unbearable of a personality as TK Strand to lead a band that seemingly sold out every venue.
So he hit the key before he could talk himself out of it.
The results flooded in, blue titles lining his screen. He mindlessly scrolled through the first few.
A link to his instagram profile. His twitter. The wikipedia page for his band. Links to music videos.
Rescue Crew makes an Incredible Comeback with their New Album ‘In the Unlikely Event of an Emergency’
Up and Coming Rockstar Heartthrob TK Strand Talks Writing, Touring, and Relationships
New Face of Modern Metal? An Interview with Rescue Crew's Frontman TK Strand
Rescue Crew Sells Out North American Tour in Minutes
Talkin’ Rock with TK Strand of Rescue Crew
They were all the same thing, music pages talking about monumental success, their hiatus, interviews with the band, and the map for their tour.
Then there were other titles that garnered his interest, but not enough to click on them.
PRIDE EXCLUSIVE: Rescue Crew's TK Strand Opens Up about Being Openly Gay in the Metal Scene
Trouble in Paradise? Rescue Crew’s Bassist Departs from the Band–Is His Relationship with the Singer Over?
Rescue Crew Preparing for a New Release with only TK Strand left of the Original Band.
TK Strand: “It’s been a long two years, but I’m back and better than ever”
The second page of his search yielded much of the same results–almost every link talking about the same event, all dated within a day or two from each other. They were a lot more chilling as Carlos’ eyes ran over the text on his screen.
Gone was the talk of music and concerts, upcoming releases or band drama.
A Brush with Death; TK Strand's Overdose–All You Need to Know
BREAKING Rescue Crew's World Tour Cancelled due to Singer's Hospitalisation
Has Drug Culture in Music Gone Too Far? TK Strand found Overdosed in NYC Apartment
It wasn’t what Carlos had expected to see in his search. The word “overdose” repeated over and over, articles all mentioning it in some shape or form. Overwhelmed by the plethora of information at his fingertips, he clicked on a random one, unable to ignore what he had stumbled into, needing to know more.
He didn’t care for TK, in fact, he loathed the man. But this seemed really serious and there was a small part of his brain that was begging him to read on, to make sure that the arrogant and grandiose man he had met was okay.
The first picture he was met with was a black and white photoshoot of TK. He looked strikingly younger in it, with chin-length choppy black hair and sans his neck tattoo–a thick black spiked choker in its place.
His eyes however carried the same piercing look, the lack of colour in the image and ring of messy eyeliner highlighting the lightness of them–green, his brain provided.
hi its sunday and ive been working on the rockstar au all week so here's six sentences of that <3
“No crowd surfing!” Carlos called out, his voice muffled through TK’s headset. But he was slicing his hand across his throat. Cut it out. “Get back on the stage!”
The only thing TK could think of was to lick his lips and bring the mic to his mouth. “Make me.”
heyyyy 💚 19 from the sadness prompts for tarlos? (maybe hurt tk? 🥺)
holly!! <3 i hope this fic is satisfactory, i kinda just got swept up in it although i'm not particularly happy with it
the easy way out and the hardest part
20 prompts for every emotion - sadness #19 “Do me a favour, tell them I love them" [anger 19]
title: julien baker - claws in your back
word count: 1.7k
ao3
It was déjà vu, as simple as that. However, TK had been here before, but on the other side of it.
He’d watched his father get caught in too many collapsing buildings to count, it was his thing, apparently. Hell he’d pulled his father out of multiple, after minutes or hours of waiting with baited breath, thinking that he’d wasted his last opportunity to see his dad alive. He’d watched his team scramble for any signs as to how they could get Judd out again. Heard about the collapsed gym that nearly took Paul’s life.
So clearly the universe had decided that it was his turn, after all, you can never have too many near death experiences. At least if you’re TK Strand and you might as well be medically declared to be immortal.
He wasn’t scared when the roof caved in, separating himself from his team and the patient he was working on. After all, having a paramedic with fire training proved to be an incredible asset, allowing him to help people in precarious situations.
Until of course he became the one in a precarious situation.
It wasn’t too bad, he knew it could’ve been a lot worse, his leg was pinned and he felt like something had hit his chest in the fall, but otherwise he was fine. His team would get him out, he had no doubts about it, so he just had to wait.
After all, there wasn’t much he could do for himself, not having a working radio on him, because of course he didn’t.
Not only did he just have to lie there amongst rubble, but he couldn’t even radio his team to let them know that they didn’t need to worry, didn’t need to hurry. He was fine.
He’d seen the way Carlos had looked at him when he volunteered to go in, worry evident in his features. TK knew he couldn’t help it, having been there with him through so many near misses, so many brushes with death, it was enough for TK to never want to see Carlos go near danger ever again. He couldn’t imagine how much worse it was with the tables reversed.
His kit had fallen with him, ending up only an arm’s reach away in his little pocket of carefully aligned rubble that afforded him the luxury of air and movement. The least he could do is job as he dug out a notepad and attached pen, alongside his easy access bag.
Methodically he worked his way through all of the vitals he could take. Jotting down numbers and timestamps for his pulse, oxygen levels, and any symptoms as he noticed them. He at least had some baseline vitals for Tommy to go off of.
He was content to just lie there and wait, taking his vitals to fill the time.
It was something to do, to stare at the small screen of his pulse oximeter clipped on his index finger, the only source of light in the space, the tiny bar that continually moved as it tracked his heartbeat.
Over the minutes that felt like hours, he watched the downward trend of his oxygen levels, the biggest number on the screen having dropped to 92.
A number that would immediately have Tommy hook him up to an oxygen tank.
He shouldn’t have run out of breathable air in his pocket that quickly, it didn’t make sense.
So he did the only thing he knew how, and started running his hands over his chest, looking for a wound, or anything to explain why he wasn’t breathing properly.
There’s nothing quite like the fear of being completely alone, all communication with your team cut off, and discovering that the reason you can’t seem to take a deep breath is not because you’re winded from the fall, but because there’s a piece of rebar in your chest.
TK Strand had almost died enough times to know when death was coming for him. When the tendrils of darkness wound around his body, threatening to drag him down, that he only had a matter of minutes.
After everything, all TK knew was that in his last moments he didn’t want to be alone.
He scanned through his contacts, trying to find the voice he wanted to hear the most right now. His shaking thumb hovered over his mother’s contact, knowing that it would ring and go to voicemail. It always did.
Seven rings.
“You’ve reached Gwyneth Morgan. I am unable to take your call right now, leave a message. If it is urgent, flick me a text or call my business number.”
TK basically had the string of digits memorised by now, after many sleepless nights of calling his mother’s number just to hear her speak, if he pretended, she was still alive, even if it was just for a moment before the realisation surged back and hit him again.
It was urgent, but he had texted her a million times since receiving that call.
Most begging her to tell him that this wasn’t real, that it had all been an elaborate ruse. His mother could never be so cruel but anything was better than reality.
And then it beeped.
“Hey mom, I just wanted to tell you that I miss you. I always do, there isn’t a moment where I don’t think of you.” TK sucked in a staggered breath. “I think I’m dying. And I know you’ll be mad, you put so much into keeping me alive, but I’m okay. I’m not scared. At least you won't have to bury your son, right?”
TK sighed, a few stray tears slipping out of his eyes as he hung up the call.
He didn’t know what else to say.
He wished his mother was there with him, even if she was just on the other end of the phone. He needed to be comforted in a way that only his mother could.
It was a decision he would live to regret, scrolling to the top of his contacts, just below his favourited ones: his father, his mother, carlos.
It rang for a shorter time than his mother’s number.
“TK, mijo?”
“Hey, Mrs Reyes.”
“Like I alway say, call me Andrea. What’s wrong? Was there an issue with the recipes?”
That was right, he texted Andrea this morning to talk about things to cook for Carlos’ birthday, going as far as to ask if she could send through some recipes for him to try out.
“No- no issue, I haven’t even gotten off of shift yet, haven’t been able to try them. Thank you so much though.”
“Then do tell, mijo, why do you sound like you’re about to cry?” She sounded so concerned, it left TK with a lump in his throat to know that he was calling her and making her worry in a situation like this.
“It’s nothing.”
“It doesn’t sound like nothing, sweetheart.”
“I just miss my mom.” TK choked on his own sobs, ones that crawled up his throat despite his best attempts to swallow them down.
“Oh, TK. It’s okay, you don’t have to cry. You said you’re still on shift, right? Do you want me to call Carlos, see if he can be with you for a bit?”
“No,” TK said in a single, shaky exhale. “He knows where I am.”
There was no doubt that Carlos was climbing the walls at this point, likely firing off a million questions at his father. TK could imagine the way his voice broke as he asked how Owen could let him do this.
After all, it was just one more in a long line of mistakes, but TK was fairly sure it would be his last.
“And where would that be?”
“In a collapsed building.”
The gasp on the other end of the line filled him with instantaneous regret. This call was a mistake, one more for the tally, but he shouldn’t have dragged Andrea into this. Not because of his childish urge to be held and comforted by his mother who no longer could do anything for him. She was dead, and soon he would be too.
He could feel the tightness around his chest, like a rubber band growing smaller and smaller, keeping him from inhaling deep enough to stave off the dark spots in his vision.
“Gabriel is on the phone with your father, can you keep talking to me, TK?”
“I can try.”
“Good, that’s good. The firefighters are going to get you out of there.”
“I know they are.” TK had never doubted that for even a second, he knew his team would level this entire building if it meant finding him safe and sound. “I don’t have that kind of time, Mrs Reyes.”
He knew that Andrea was just a master at hiding her panic. A skill her son had not inherited. “That’s nonsense, of course you do.”
“I’m sorry about this. You can hang up if you want, you don’t have to listen to me die.”
“I am not going to leave you all by yourself, you have nothing to apologise for.”
“Can you do me a favour?” TK asked between pained gasps, trying desperately to keep his grip on consciousness from slipping.
“Of course, anything.”
“Tell Carlos I love him.”
“He knows, and you can tell him yourself.”
“Please, Andrea,” TK was wrought with a fresh round of white-hot tears now, their presence threatening to choke him. “In case I can’t. I need him to know.”
As the pain picked up in intensity, the stabbing fire spread throughout his chest and stole his voice from him, the small pocket he was in was beginning to feel more and more like a tomb.
The darkness gave way to light, flashing red and blue ones at that. Somehow he had ended up outside, under the cover of stars, and not just the ones in his vision as pressure was applied to his chest.
Tracking his eyes down to the source, he found the rebar still there, but Tommy at his side, packing the wound with gauze that was eagerly shifting colour from a bright white to rich, deep red.
“You gave your boy a big fright,” Tommy said, flicking her gaze to TK’s otherside where Carlos stood, his hands wrapped around TK’s, clasped like a prayer as he pressed soft kisses to each knuckle, shimmering tears running tracks down his face.
“Hey, baby,” TK said, a little breathless.
Carlos just made a sound like he was choking.
“Breathe, it’s okay.”
He took a strangled and staggered breath. “You scared my mom.”
happy wednesday!! it's officially a week since starting the rockstar au, a purely self indulgent fic (enemies-to-lovers, sexual tension, yknow everything that makes an au good) so here's a snippet!!!
“Are you really telling me I’m going to have to deal with that arrogant prick again?” Carlos hissed as he held the door to the café open for Grace.
Grace just brushed him off with a wave in his direction, not even bothering to entertain him. “My husband’s band is coming to Austin and I haven’t seen him in months, your silly feud with TK is not my business.”
“TK?” Carlos asked incredulously. “Since when are you on a first name basis with him?”
Grace just laughed at him. “I’ve met the band a few times since Judd started managing them. They’re good people, Carlos.”
Briefly, Carlos wondered if Grace had hit her head on the doorframe as she walked in. From what he had experienced of the band, even if that was only TK, they seemed like the perfect people to be rockstars. The kind of people who lavished attention and attracted even more of it with their wild and outlandish personalities. Extroverts, for sure.
“Tell that to their annoying frontman,” Carlos said with a groan.
“I’ll admit, TK is an acquired taste but he’s nice enough.”
Carlos rolled his eyes as he stepped into the café behind Grace, letting the door fall shut behind him. “Whatever you say.”
“The band comes through Austin every few months at the most, you can put up with him for a night or two. He’s not that bad, and he’s been through a lot.”
What did that mean? Been through a lot? Carlos couldn’t fathom anything that could turn someone into such a prick, and Carlos had only interacted with him a handful of times. Renowned for his patience and understanding with pretty much everyone, only a collective few minutes of time with TK Strand was enough to rub him the wrong way.
Carlos let their conversation die there, after all, he had nothing to add.
The café was a quaint little spot, one that wasn’t frequented much as it wasn’t close to a main road so the line was always short. It had been Carlos’ go-to coffee spot for years now, many of the baristas getting to know him fairly well when he stopped by for a latte.
He was known to recommend it to everyone if they wanted to catch up with friends or family over a coffee or pastry. The atmosphere was nice, the music always different whenever he visited, courtesy of the baristas being allowed to play their own playlists over the soft speakers. It added personality and a liveliness to the space.
But today it was busier than he had ever seen it, almost every table occupied and the staff a blur of motion behind the counter.
Carlos was about to suggest that they go somewhere else, to save the baristas the trouble for today but he was interrupted before he could even open his mouth.
“Gracie?”
His eyes met Judd first, his tall stature making him a focal point, before Carlos’ gaze fell to the group behind him. Leather jackets, spikes, chains, and all of the black hair dye in Travis County–Rescue Crew was here.
And that meant only one thing, that TK was also in this café that suddenly felt much too small.
it's thursday in nz but apparently people want content so here's some of my mcd fic that i wrote and finished in like three days and has been sitting in my drive for like almost four weeks now. customary @marjansmarwani because she held my hand through the entire writing process and also endorsed me posting this <3
warning for major character death <3
A relief team from the 129 was sent. They picked up the rig, offered their condolences and left.
Tommy returned not long after radioing for the relief team. Undoubtedly she had called his father, to inform him of the day’s events, that his future son-in-law was dead, and his son was in the waiting room, covered in his blood. As soon as she hung up the call, the weight was placed on Owen’s shoulders to inform the 126, no one’s shoulders grew lighter, the weight shifting hands but never leaving, only spreading.
No matter how many hands gripped the weight settling over him, nothing would lift it.
The best anyone could do now, was to cope. And for Tommy that meant taking care of her team. They were her kids, as she had jokingly reminded them on many occasions. The first time they had all rode in the ambulance together, they had become family, and it had since extended from a work relationship, beyond and into their personal lives.
She would always take care of them, especially on shift, she was their captain after all. So TK couldn’t say he was surprised when she offered to help him get cleaned up.
They went to the bathroom together, a small single stall next to the reception desk.
Tommy took off his gloves, quickly moving to place the blood-covered nylon in the rubbish bin. It was a stark change, to see his hands, palms and fingers, completely clean. There was a ring around each wrist, where the blood stopped, dried and unmoving, where it had sat against the edge of where glove met skin.
He was still, staring at his bare hands, as Tommy pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and ran it under the tap, before carefully wiping at the blood on TK’s arms.
She paid no mind to the blood on her skin as she worked, clearing the mess from TK’s own. A few wipes, she would wring out the handkerchief in the sink, the water running a muddy and faded red before disappearing down the drain.
As she did the best she could of cleaning his arms, she moved to his neck and face. He hadn’t even known there was blood there, but she was quiet and gentle as she tended to him.
It was as she was wiping his cheek that he looked at her, really looked at her, since Carlos’ partner had radioed for medical assistance.
For a flash, she is Carlos and they are in the APD precinct. Deep brown eyes and a careful touch. Just as quickly, they are in a hospital bathroom covered in Carlos’ blood.
