Work Text:
Carlos clenches his jaw, forcing himself to focus on the words on the paper in front of him instead of the conversation that fills the station.
He’s used to the other officers talking about O’Brien, whether it be another petty feud he got into or some miraculous play he pulled out at his weekly softball game.
Those conversations are easy to tune out. Carlos isn’t particularly fond of the man so listening to how he pitched a no-hitter inning or harped on some firefighter who complained about a call interrupting their dinner isn’t something he’s interested in.
This time however, the subject of his vexation was none other than Owen Strand, which of course caused the opponent in today’s softball game to be the 126.
Carlos’ isn’t naive. He saw the viral video of Owen ripping up the parking ticket and he knew it was only a matter of time before that spiraled into a full blown war. He wouldn’t have guessed softball was going to be the ultimate means to all end, but then again he does know that Owen would take any opportunity to stay on top.
As he listens to the cops a few desks over from him talk about the news segment earlier that showed the unsportsmanlike end to the game, Carlos wishes he could say he was surprised. It’s not like softball is a contact sport, but he briefly remembers TK mentioning something about his dad going to anger management after the whole incident with Billy last year, so it’s not hard to piece together how one thing led to another.
He does have a moment where he wonders if TK got hurt at all, not having seen the news himself, but he shakes his head as if that will physically rid the thought from his mind. It’s not his business anymore.
“I heard Cooper got that shiner from Strand.”
Carlos wants to snap at them, to tell them to focus on their work instead of gossiping, but he keeps his head down.
“He went after the Captain? Now I know he’s not that dumb.”
“Nah, it was his son.”
Carlos pushes his chair back, beelining towards the breakroom to get a coffee refill before he hears anything else. He dawdles longer than necessary, making a fresh pot even though the old one still has half left, and by the time he finally returns the conversation seems to have dropped.
He gets resettled at his desk and when Carlos picks up his phone, it almost falls right back out of his grasp.
Missed call: TK
No voicemail, no text, nothing other than this small little notification that seems innocuous enough on the surface but has the ability to form a pit in Carlos’ stomach.
TK hasn’t even texted him back in months, let alone tried to call him.
Why now of all times? Carlos checks the date, wondering and maybe secretly hoping that today was supposed to be one that was important to them. An anniversary or a day they had planned to do something, a reason for TK to be thinking of him. But it’s just an ordinary Saturday.
Those three words stare at him on the screen, forcing Carlos to make a decision. He could swipe it away, clear it from his phone and pretend that the action would clear it from his mind as well. The other option is to address it, to call him back.
Before he can make up his mind, TK’s calling him yet again and he’s presented with another seemingly impossible choice.
He almost doesn’t answer it. He could blame that on the fact that he’s at work and shouldn’t be taking personal calls, but that’s never stopped him before. The lateness of the hour and the emptiness of the station don’t do too much to support his argument, anyway.
Truth is he isn’t prepared to talk to TK out of the blue like this, an odd fact considering how many times he reached out, but those were always on his terms. Now that the 126 has reopened, Carlos has seen him more often, but that too is in a controlled environment, one he can prepare for and know what to expect.
This phone call could mean anything and it came without warning. But the fact that it’s two phone calls nearly back-to-back has Carlos on edge for an entirely different reason.
He answers it.
“Oh,” TK says, his voice is hollow and so unlike himself that it makes Carlos grip his phone tighter. “I was going to leave a voicemail.”
Carlos frowns. “Did you need something?”
He immediately feels bad for the bite that accompanies his words, but part of him can’t help it. TK is the one who called and yet it still seems like he doesn’t want to talk to him.
There used to be a time when his inability to figure TK out was exciting for him. Back when they first met, when he was this enigma that had Carlos so enthralled that he didn’t know what to do with himself. But now it just makes him feel foolish for thinking he ever understood what goes on in TK’s mind.
TK’s labored breathing stretches on the other end for so long that Carlos almost has to wonder if he didn’t mean to call at all. He ignores how crushed he would feel if that were true.
“TK?” He tries again.
There’s a hitch of breath and then a soft spoken, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called.”
There’s something in his tone that puts Carlos on edge. He glances around the station but thankfully no one seems to be paying attention to him.
“What’s wrong?” His voice is low, not wanting to draw attention to himself. There’s no answer and he tries to keep the panic that slowly creeps in out of his voice. “TK, what’s wrong?”
“She’s dead.”
Carlos’ freezes, fearing washing over his body. The fact that he doesn’t know who TK means doesn’t change the way Carlos can tell he isn’t okay, that whoever it is is someone important.
“She’s dead,” TK repeats. “My mom, she’s,” his voice breaks. “She’s dead.”
Carlos closes his eyes, heart cracking open at the loss TK must be feeling right now.
His mother.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers. He doesn’t know what else to say. There is nothing else to say. Nothing that will make it better, that is.
“I can’t believe she’s gone.” It almost sounds as if TK’s talking to himself. “I don’t know what to do,” he whispers.
“Do you want me to come over?” Carlos offers.
He knows TK wouldn’t outright ask him and he’s already sent more texts than he cares to admit where he tried to reopen the door, so what’s one more time of putting himself out there.
“Oh, um, you don’t have to.”
Carlos is pretty sure he knows what TK isn’t saying.
“TK, do you want me there?”
He doesn’t answer right away and Carlos thinks maybe he overstepped, but then TK’s voice is in his ear again.
“Yes.”
There’s so much emotion in that one word that Carlos is scrambling to pack up the rest of his things. He’s already formulating an excuse in his mind to give to his sergeant. ‘Family emergency’ seems like the most straightforward and it wouldn’t be an outright lie. A large part of him still associates the word family with TK.
Despite everything, despite the heartbreak and the silence and the anger, there’s always going to be a part of Carlos that’s tied to him. A part of his heart is TK’s and he’ll never get it back. He doesn’t want it back, if he’s being honest. Carlos gave it to him that night under the aurora borealis and even if TK doesn’t want it anymore, it’s still his to keep.
And that tie Carlos has to him is always going to overpower everything. If TK’s hurting and needs Carlos, he’ll be there. That never changed.
*
If Owen is surprised to see Carlos standing on his doorstep, he doesn’t show it. If anything he looks relieved, pulling Carlos into an unexpected hug and telling him that TK’s in his room.
As Carlos steps into the house, he tries not to think about how the last time he was here was when he was rushing to pack his things before TK got off shift.
Carlos wants to rush to TK, to try and put back together the man that sounded so broken on the phone, but first he offers up his condolences to Owen. He knows how much he loved Gwyn, he can’t imagine this is easy on him either.
After Owen gives him a grateful nod, he lets his legs carry him to the room they used to share together, knocking softly on the closed door and only entering when he hears TK’s muffled ‘come in’.
He’s sitting on the edge of his bed, feet firmly planted on the ground and his head is bowed over something he’s fiddling with in his hands. He shoves whatever it is back in his pocket when Carlos enters the room.
TK doesn't speak, doesn’t even move, and Carlos is reminded of the police station and the words gray and numb. He wonders if that feeling is back. He hopes more than anything that it’s not, not when Carlos can’t make it better.
With slow, cautious steps as if he’s approaching a spooked animal, Carlos moves to take a seat beside him. He’s completely out of his element right now, never having been one to be okay with being out of control of a situation, but this is a whole new extreme.
He’s familiar with grief. He sees it everyday at work, every time he has to tell someone that their mom or husband or daughter isn’t coming home, and as hard as that is, it doesn’t even come close to what this is like.
To sit next to TK as he goes through the unthinkable. Even more so when he considers just how long it’s been since the two of them were alone like this.
“It was an accident. She just…” TK breaks the silence then trails off.
“You don’t have to explain.”
How it happened isn’t even a thought that crossed Carlos’ mind.
He just nods and then falls silent. There’s no conversation that passes between them for a long while but Carlos knows that his presence is all TK needs right now. No words will make it better.
He keeps his hands to himself, not wanting to initiate contact with TK unless that’s something the other man wants. And it is, because his shaky hand lands softly on Carlos’, not doing anything other than making contact like he’s afraid Carlos is going to pull away.
Carlos flips his so their palms are pressed together and squeezes.
It’s not even a question of if Carlos is staying, not that there’s much sleep to be had anyway. Carlos knows Owen is already looking for flights and there are bags that needed to be packed, but even without all that it would still be a restless night.
TK stands from the bed in a detached state, beginning to pull clothes out without really paying much attention to what he’s grabbing. Carlos steps to his side, softly grabbing his fingers when they’re shaking too much to undo the zipper on the suitcase. “Let me.”
It’s only when a silent tear falls onto the back of Carlos’ hands does TK accept the offer, pulling his own hands away to wipe his eyes.
Once the bag is packed, Carlos follows him downstairs, on a hunt for Owen to find out the details of the flight. They find him hunched over the kitchen counter, alternating between furiously typing on his laptop and checking his phone.
“There’s a flight at seven that has two tickets, but the one at nine thirty has three,” Owen says when he hears them enter the room.
Three tickets, as in one for him as well. Carlos didn’t consider that he would be going to New York with them, but now that the opportunity is being presented, he can’t imagine being anywhere else.
“Will you come with?” TK shakes his head as soon as the words are out of his mouth. “Sorry, you don’t need to. You probably have work anyway.”
“I’ll be there,” he says, like it’s as simple as that.
TK’s not wrong, he does have to work and there are a few phone calls he’ll have to make, a few favors to cash in, but nothing that even comes close to stopping him from going. There’s no way he’s letting TK go through this alone, even if he can’t fully be there for him like used to be able to be.
A few hours before they have to leave for the airport, TK finally falls asleep on the couch, his head in Carlos’ lap. It’s only after Carlos is positive that he’s actually out does he allow himself to run his fingers through his hair.
Carlos mindlessly watches whatever late night TV program is on as the first rays of sun begin to pour through the windows. It so eerily reminds him of when neither of them could sleep after the fire and they would waste their nights in this living room trying to put each other back together that he almost wonders if he’s dreaming.
But then TK’s stirring and Carlos is snapped back to the present. There’s a split second where Carlos can tell it hasn’t hit him yet, where he’s blissfully unaware of the events of the previous day, and Carlos would do anything to let him live in it for a minute longer.
But he can’t make everything okay no matter how much he longs to and inevitably TK’s body tenses up. He slowly pushes himself to a seated position and Carlos doesn’t know how it’s possible, but he looks even more numb now than he did before.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you,” he says as he stares at the rug.
“It’s alright. Do you want some breakfast?”
TK shrugs. “I’m not really hungry.”
“I know, but you should eat something.”
He doesn’t answer but he also doesn’t try to stop Carlos when he stands up. He debates on just staying here and finding something to make, he doesn’t want to let TK out of his sight longer than necessary, but then Owen’s coming down the stairs and Carlos figures going out to grab something might be the better option.
He has to run home to pack his own bag anyway and Owen tells him they’ll pick him up on their way to the airport. He’s about to rattle off his address, an instinct that comes with moving to a new place, but TK’s quiet ‘I’ll show him where it is’ stops him.
Sometimes he forgets that TK was the one to pick it out in the first place when all he’s ever known is what it’s like to live there alone.
“Right,” he says and then he’s out the door.
*
Carlos’ fingers turn white from how tight TK grips his hand throughout the funeral.
He doesn’t cry, or do much of anything really, throughout the first half. He’s this almost robotic like presence beside Carlos that doesn’t waver until he’s standing in front of everyone giving the eulogy.
Carlos didn’t even realize he was going to be the one to do it until they were on the flight here and TK was continuously writing things down only to scribble them out moments later.
He can’t imagine the strength it takes to give any eulogy, let alone the one for your mother. Carlos doesn’t think that’s something he would be able to take on, especially not less than 24 hours after the news. So to watch TK tell a story from when he was little to a room full of mourners almost has Carlos in awe of him, over his determination to honor Gwyn no matter how hard it may be for him to do so.
If he knows anything about TK, it’s his need to put others above himself. He wouldn’t let that pressure fall onto anyone else’s shoulders but even so, Carlos thinks it makes sense that TK be the one to do it. Even though both Enzo and Owen loved her, she wasn’t married to either of them.
TK is her next of kin, and while that involves a lot of financial and legal responsibilities, that also means TK was asked to do this by whichever one of Gwyn’s relatives organized the service and even though it probably wasn’t something Gwyn explicitly stated she wanted, TK would never say no.
He has to start and stop multiple times when he gets too choked up to continue, but then he looks to Carlos who mouths a silent encouragement and that's all it takes for him to keep going. He’s able to finish the rest without incident, eyes meeting Carlos’ again in the crowd whenever it gets close to feeling like too much.
The ceremony itself is shorter than Carlos expected. He’s only been to a handful of funerals, but Catholic ones always go for at least an hour so Carlos is a little surprised when they start to leave for the cemetery only thirty minutes after they arrived.
The Mourner’s Kaddish is recited and although Carlos doesn’t know the words, the feeling that comes with trying to connect to something more powerful than himself is familiar enough that he lets it wash over him anyway. His own grief has been the furthest thing from his mind and while he only knew Gwyn for a fraction of the time that everyone else here did, it’s starting to hit him as well that she’s truly gone.
Carlos holds Jonah while TK, Enzo, Owen, and other faces that he couldn’t name take their turn placing a shovel full of dirt onto the casket and when that’s finished, they all pile back into the car to return to Gwyn’s home.
The setting there is intimate, filled only with people who knew Gwyn best. Carlos sticks to TK’s side, partly because he’s in a room full of essentially strangers and partly because he’s found it hard to stray far from him ever since Carlos got his phone call.
Even though Carlos doesn’t know a majority of them, watching a hint of a smile reappear on TK’s face as he reconnects with people he hasn't seen in years is enough to make him feel right at home too.
A woman who he thinks is Gwyn’s sister comes up to them, pulling TK into a hug and then not missing a beat as she does the same to Carlos. He quickly learned that TK’s extended family are just as much of huggers as his own are.
“You must be Carlos,” she says. “Gwyn talked a lot about you, about how happy she was that TK found you.”
Carlos smiles politely, unsure of what to say to that because he didn’t really put it together until just now that most of these people still think he’s TK’s boyfriend.
He almost waits for TK to jump in. He’s half expecting an awkward moment where TK tries to subtly insinuate to her that it’s not like that, but the moment never comes.
“Hi, yeah, I’m Carlos. It’s nice to meet you…”
“Rachel,” she fills in for him.
“It’s nice to meet you, Rachel.”
“It’s nice to meet you, too. I wish it were under better circumstances.”
“Yeah,” he forces a smile. The conversation becomes still after that as they all become painfully reminded of the reasons why they’re gathered together.
He excuses himself under the pretense of going to make TK a plate of food that he probably won’t eat anyway, but Carlos is going to do his best to get him to try. He gets roped into more conversations while he’s in the kitchen with people he doesn’t know and while Rachel was the first person to make assumptions about the nature of their relationship, she certainly wasn’t the last.
And although it might be easier for TK to not have to correct them right now, Carlos can’t help but wonder if it’s going to hurt more to break the news in a couple of months when they continue to ask about him.
When he’s finally able to return to TK, he finds him on the couch watching Enzo deal with a fussy Jonah. He places the plate on his lap, having to hold on for a second longer when it doesn’t seem like TK’s going to grab it, but after a few moments of no reaction, Carlos starts to eat from it and it spurs TK on enough to take a couple of crackers.
Carlos will take the win.
The small victory is quickly lost when Jonah’s piercing scream fills the room. Carlos watches as Enzo does everything in his power to make it stop, but nothing pleases him. Not food, not a fresh diaper, not even the little stuffed monkey that’s in his fist more often than not.
He wants his mom.
“Excuse me,” TK mumbles out, disappearing down the hall and around the corner.
Carlos gives him a minute before he follows.
The door to the guest bedroom isn’t shut and he hopes that means TK was wanting him to join him. His hands are gripping the window sill as he watches the city below and his back is rapidly expanding with each labored inhale, an effort to keep calm or keep himself from breaking down. Probably both.
Carlos pushes the bags that they dropped in here earlier out of the way and takes a seat on the edge of the bed.
“Jonah’s going to grow up without a mom,” TK says without turning around. “At least I had decades with her, but he isn’t even going to remember her.”
“You can tell him about her, so will Enzo. There’ll be pictures and stories, no one’s going to forget her.”
“It’s not the same.”
Carlos nods even though he can’t see it. He’s right. It’s not the same. And no amount of material possessions or recounted memories will ever replicate what it would’ve been like if she were actually here.
“He’s going to be so traumatized. I wanted him to grow up differently than I did. I wanted him to have a family that’s whole and not need to be in therapy before he’s a teenager.” TK shakes his head and then drops it again. “Everyone always says he’s going to grow up to be just like his big brother, but I don’t want him to. I don’t want him to be like me.”
“TK,” Carlos exhales, standing up placing a hand on his shoulder. When he doesn’t shy away from the touch, Carlos moves it in slow, comforting circles.
“At least mom was there to save me. I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for her and he’s not going to have that if he screws up.”
“Hey, look at me.” TK reluctantly turns around, meeting Carlos’ eyes for half a second. “Jonah’s going to be just fine.”
TK doesn’t acknowledge his words, he just goes back to staring out the window. It’s an improvement from trying to contradict them, Carlos supposes.
“And don’t sell yourself so short. There’s so much good in you, TK, and anybody out there would agree with me. I know Jonah’s going to look up to you so much.”
Anyone who grows up to be as loving and passionate and selfless as TK is going to be more than okay.
“There’s no way you still think that.”
“I do,” Carlos says simply.
TK lets go of the window completely, turning around so they’re face to face. Carlos instinctually reaches to wipe away the one tear that managed to escape and then his hands fall at his sides.
“I know I haven’t said it, but thank you for coming here with me. It means everything to me.”
“You don’t have to thank me for that. I’m right where I want to be.”
“I wish things were different.”
They had talked about taking a trip to New York back when they were still together. TK wanted to show him around all his favorite spots growing up, he wanted to take Jonah to the zoo or the park or whatever his current obsession was, to have dinner with Enzo and Gwyn.
That dream is gone now, for more reasons than one.
Carlos pulls TK to his chest, letting his hand protectively cradle the back of his skull. It takes TK a second to reciprocate, but then his hand is sliding around Carlos’ back and he’s tucking his face into his neck.
They easily fit back together, like it hasn’t been months since they’ve held each other like this. TK still smells the same, same cologne, same shampoo that Carlos still subconsciously buys. He thinks he feels the ghost of a kiss on his neck and he’s about halfway to convincing himself that he was just imagining things, but then TK’s pulling half an inch back and pressing a real kiss to his lips.
It’s unexpected but not unwelcomed and the sensation is so nostalgic that his body naturally kisses back like he’s done so many times before.
His mind eventually catches up on realizing that just because the feeling is something that he’s experienced a million times, that doesn’t mean the circumstances aren’t worlds away from the last time they did this. He pulls back, but he keeps their foreheads pressed together.
“You’re upset and I know this is familiar and you need familiarity right now, but I don’t want you to do something you're going to regret when we leave here.”
Carlos is trying to rationalize.
“That wasn’t…” TK shakes his head, the movement causing their noses to brush together. “It’s not just because you were comforting me.” His thumb strokes Carlos’ cheek. ”It’s because it's you. It’s always going to be you.”
“TK…” he trails off, not knowing exactly what to make of that right now, not when TK is still right in front of him somehow looking scared but also like he’s never been more sure of anything in his life.
When TK leans back in, Carlos doesn’t hesitate to meet him halfway there. It’s nothing more than a soft press of lips, but it still makes Carlos weak in the knees.
Maybe it’s stupid to do so before they’ve had a real conversation and while Carlos feels immensely better knowing TK isn’t using this as an outlet for his grief, that doesn’t mean they don’t have other things to focus on right now.
Before Carlos can say that, TK reads his mind and takes a step back. “I should probably get back out there.”
Carlos nods and watches him go.
*
It’s late by the time the last of the guests leave and Carlos can tell that TK was ready to be alone hours ago. Anyone else probably didn’t pick up on it, but the way TK mentally withdrew from the crowd with a hollow expression on his face when he wasn’t actively involved in a conversation was more than enough for Carlos to put it together.
When they finally retreat to the guest bedroom, TK wordlessly goes to the right side of the bed as Carlos takes the left. Months apart don’t change the fact that they had routines and those aren’t something you just forget.
Every night in the loft Carlos has slept on the left side of his too big bed. He wonders if TK still sticks to the right, or if he got used to sleeping alone again and gravitated back toward the middle.
It’s a weird limbo they’re in as they get settled under the blankets, stuck somewhere between recognizing that they know each other better than anyone else and acting like complete strangers.
It takes Carlos a minute to relax, but as he closes his eyes, the sounds of TK breathing beside him are so achingly familiar that he settles, his body’s unconscious reaction to having TK nearby, to knowing that the other man makes him feel safe.
Even without the heavy weight of grief and the elephant of their relationship in the room, Carlos still doesn’t know if he would be able to sleep. The sounds of the city around them are loud and they filter through the walls of Gwyn’s apartment.
Carlos grew up on a ranch with nothing more than the sounds of cicadas and crickets to keep him up at night. And while moving further into the city has prepared him somewhat, even the downtown location of the loft isn’t nearly as loud as this.
He shifts, trying to get more comfortable, and his body naturally turns to face TK. He’s not asleep, his breathing is too shallow and rapid, there’s a slight clench to his jaw and frown to his lips. His expression of sorrow has been evident the whole day and even now it lingers.
Carlos thinks it’ll be a long time before it truly goes away.
Like he can tell he’s being watched, TK blinks his eyes open and Carlos is taken aback by how intense it is to be pinned by his gaze like this again. It’s been so long since they’ve truly looked at each other and so for a moment, that’s all they do.
TK wordlessly rolls onto his side to face him, never letting the eye contact break as he does so. “I’m sorry.”
Those words suck the air out of the room and Carlos has to close his eyes. He’s been wanting to have this conversation since the day they fell apart and it kills him that it’s now coming at a time when it shouldn’t.
“TK, we don’t have to do this right now. You’ve had a long day, you should rest.”
He opens his eyes again, setting them on the neckline of TK’s shirt instead of his awaiting expression.
“I can’t sleep anyway,” he sighs, shifting half an inch forward. His knee brushes against Carlos’. “I, I just need you to know that there hasn’t been a day that’s gone by that I-” his voice cracks and he swallows hard. “I’ve never regretted anything more, and I have a lot to regret,” he mumbles the last part under his breath.
The fact that Carlos can’t reassure him that he does know that, that he knows TK wants to take back what he did, kills him. And it hurts to admit that, that he doubted TK, but the truth is up until this moment, he couldn't say for certain.
Ever since TK called him yesterday, he’s starting to put pieces together that suggest maybe TK missed him just as much as he missed TK, and then the kiss and everything that transpired there only furthered his theory, but officially hearing those words come out of his ex-boyfriend’s mouth, that he’s just as unhappy with the situation as Carlos is, impacts him a lot.
“Okay,” he says simply. “Thank you for telling me that.”
TK nods, looking like wants to say more but he doesn’t. He respects Carlos’ wish to table this conversation for now.
Carlos gives a reassuring smile in return, reaching across the distance to stroke TK’s cheek with his thumb, the cheeks that have had tear tracks on them today more often than not.
And then he drops his hand, once again telling TK to get some rest, and tries to listen to his own advice.
He feels the mattress shift, listens to the pillow get readjusted, and then there’s a minute of silence before TK whispers, “I still love you. I never stopped.”
It’s on the tip of Carlos’ tongue to ask why then? Why break my heart if you love me so much?
He knows buying the loft was a risk, but if TK wasn’t happy with that choice why didn’t he just tell him? Why did he walk out and never come back?
But he doesn’t say any of that. That wouldn’t be fair to TK right now and that wouldn’t be fair to him either. They both deserve to have this talk when they can freely express their thoughts and when they’re on even ground.
“We’ll talk more when we get home,” Carlos promises.
He mentally winces at his choice of words, they may live in the same city but they don’t have the same home anymore.
Carlos can just barely make out the way TK’s face falls ever so slightly, but he nods in resignation. Carlos knows it’s because he didn’t say he loved him back.
That doesn’t mean he doesn’t, far from it actually, but as he told TK, it’s been a long day and if he said those three words it would only force the conversation to continue.
But despite that, the whole reason for this trip to New York reminds Carlos that unexpected tragedy can come at any time and since TK just took a risk by saying those words, unsure of how Carlos was feeling and what the ramifications would be, the least Carlos can do is prove to him that he’s not alone in those thoughts.
Besides, he needs TK to know how loved he is, especially at a time like this.
He reaches across the space between them to squeeze TK’s hand. TK latches onto the touch immediately and Carlos leans in to press a lingering kiss to his forehead like he’s done so many times before.
“I still love you, too.”
TK looks at him with wide eyes and so much emotion. “More than anything I want to fix us.”
“So do I,” Carlos promises. “And I think we will.”
When they wake up in the morning, their hands are still intertwined.
*
“You don’t have to do this right now, TK,” Owen gently reminds his son as he sits on the floor of his mother’s bedroom, looking lost as he’s surrounded by a smattering of her possessions.
TK doesn’t look at him. “I don’t know when I’ll be able to come back.”
“I’m sure Enzo wouldn’t mind sorting through it. It’s not something that can be accomplished in a day, anyway.”
“I want to do it.”
“TK,” Owen sighs. “It’s only been two days, it’s okay to let things sit for a little.”
“No,” TK snaps and then covers his mouth with his hand. “We leave tomorrow and I don’t want to just abandon every piece of her here.”
“Okay,” Owen accepts. “Anything in particular you’re looking for?”
TK shakes his head, absentmindedly flipping through a box of photos and cards at his feet. His fingers catch on a birthday card that looks all too familiar.
He opens it up and sure enough his and Carlos’ names are signed at the bottom in blue.
There’s a little smudge caused by them shoving it in the envelope before the ink could dry. They were running late, wanting to drop the card at the post office before they went to tour the loft for the first time.
That was a week before they broke up.
He hasn’t sent a dual gift with Carlos to anyone since, and now he’s never going to send another gift to his mom either.
He puts it back in the box and pushes it out of the way, unable to look at pictures and memories of before everything was broken.
“I’ll take a look through there,” his dad says.
TK’s gaze snaps to him, he had forgotten he was there. He passes it over and Owen wordlessly leaves the room.
Abandoning the rest of the remnants from the top shelf of the closet, TK walks in a trance over to the dresser. He trails his finger over the dark wood, almost expecting a layer of dust to be present like she wasn’t standing right here less than two days ago.
He purposely avoids looking at the picture frames. He doesn’t want to see the one of the two of them from when he was seven and smiling without his front tooth or the one from his high school graduation with Enzo and Owen in it too.
He doesn’t want to see the new additions either, the day she brought Jonah home from the hospital or the one where she’s squished between a smiling TK and Carlos.
He doesn’t want to wonder why she hasn’t taken that last picture down yet.
“Hey.” Carlos knocks on the open door frame, holding a to-go cup from the shop down the street. TK didn’t even know he left. “I brought you some coffee.”
TK hasn’t had much of an appetite lately, but he’s put down more caffeine than what’s probably considered healthy.
“But you have to promise to eat something with it,” Carlos bargains, shaking the paper bag in his other hand.
The corner of TK’s mouth curls up in a half smile that’s more real than any other ones he’s been giving lately.
“Deal,” he grumbles, following Carlos out of the room.
*
TK sleeps the whole flight home.
He was already blinking heavily before the seatbelt light clicked off and by the time they got to 30,000 feet, he was completely out with his head resting on Carlos’ shoulder.
Carlos had planned on getting up to use the bathroom as soon as he was allowed to leave his seat, but now the last thing on his mind is moving from his spot.
The cabin is mostly quiet with only a few whispered conversations and minimal reading lights turned on. Theirs is one of them, with Owen in the window seat frowning at the pages of his book. Carlos doesn’t know how TK can sleep with it shining on him, but then again he knew the exhaustion from the past couple of days would catch up to him eventually.
When the flight attendant comes around with a complimentary blanket, Carlos tries not to jostle TK as he places it over his lap.
“Thanks, baby,” he murmurs, lost somewhere between awake and not as he curls his hand over Carlos’ bicep.
It doesn’t matter to Carlos whether TK didn’t even notice the slip up or was simply too tired to care. It hits all the same.
Since he doesn’t have any plans to move, Carlos closes his eyes in an attempt to get some sleep himself, but his mind is too busy. He gives up before he even gave it a real shot.
He glances at Owen, wishing he brought his own book, and the man catches his eye.
“Paul’s been trying to get a book club going at the station, but I cannot get into this one.” He sighs, snapping it shut and setting it by his feet. “Not that I’m a big reader to begin with. Gwyn tried so many times to get me into it, and I don’t know… it’s silly to think that a hardcover is going to make me feel closer to her.”
Carlos doesn’t say that he knows about the book club, that he still talks to Paul fairly regularly and some of the suggestions are probably ones he recommended to him.
“I think it might, Captain, if you read something that reminds you of her, maybe one of her favorites.”
Owen nods like he actually might consider doing so and then he’s pinning Carlos with a look. “Son, you just came with me to my ex-wife’s funeral, I think you can call me Owen.”
Carlos looks to TK’s sleeping form and then back to Owen. “I didn’t know if…”
“You’ll always be family to us, Carlos.” He just nods, unsure of how to respond to such a compliment like that.
Owen continues on. “Thank you for taking care of my boy, I know he appreciates it even if he hasn’t told you. I know I do, too.”
“He has told me.”
Owen smiles softly. “Good.” He pauses before adding, “Look, TK hasn’t told me what happened between you two-”
“Oh,” Carlos laments. “We don’t have to-”
“But,” Owen barrels on, ignoring his protests. “I know my son, and sometimes he does things and says things that he doesn’t really mean.”
“Yeah,” Carlos says. “I’m starting to see that.”
Owen nods, looking to TK and then back at Carlos. “I’m not telling you what to do, just something to think about.”
“Thanks, Owen.”
It’s already something he’s been thinking about.
He gets lost in his own mind for the rest of the flight, Owen content to do the same, and soon enough they’re touching back down on Texas soil. TK stirs just as they land and this time he doesn't apologize for falling asleep on Carlos like he did that first night. Carlos doesn’t want him too, either.
Instead he just smiles slightly as he folds the blanket and then they’re being directed to exit.
TK tries to grab his garment bag from the overhead compartment, but the hanger gets stuck on something. He sighs, looking ahead to Carlos and his dad who are already halfway down the aisle, before trying to tug at it again.
It doesn’t budge and there’s about to be a line of impatient passengers behind him that want to exit. Luckily the flight attendant notices his struggle and opens the adjacent compartment, unhooking the hanger from the bag up there.
TK smiles gratefully once he finally gets it down.
“By the way, you got yourself a good one,” she says to him. TK furrows his brow. “Your boyfriend barely moved the entire four hours so he wouldn’t wake you.”
Oh.
“Yeah,” he whispers. He did.
*
“How do you guys feel about Chinese food?”
They’re all sitting in Owen’s car in the parking lot of Carlos’ loft and he was about two seconds away from going inside when TK spoke up.
“I think that’s a great idea, son.”
“Carlos?” TK asks.
He doesn’t hesitate to agree as well and TK looks relieved. Carlos knows the feeling, he wasn’t ready to depart either.
“I might as well get my car since I’m here. I can meet you back at your house with the food, my treat.”
Owen shakes his head. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I insist.” It’s the least he can do.
Both Strand men reluctantly agree before they start giving him their orders. He must make a face at the fact that they’re rattling off what has to be at least half the menu because TK laughs a little.
“It’s the way mom liked to do it,” he explains with a sad smile. “We’d just get a whole bunch of stuff and everyone would take from everything.”
Who was Carlos to argue with that?
He fulfills their request, returning back to them with four bags all filled with cardboard containers. There’s no way there won’t be leftovers and Carlos knows they’re going to insist he take some home with him.
The whole ordeal is bittersweet. Owen and TK go back and forth, correcting each other’s stories when one of them gets a detail wrong. Carlos doesn’t have much to add throughout it, but he’s more than okay to sit back and watch them honor Gwyn’s memory.
TK keeps glancing at him throughout the meal and Carlos is always looking back, smiling at TK when he pushes the rest of the orange chicken container in front of him simply because he knows it’s Carlos’ favorite.
Eventually TK gets to the reason why this became a tradition in the first place.
It all started one Thanksgiving when he was seven where Owen had to work and TK and Gwyn didn’t want to plan some big elaborate turkey dinner for only two people. That didn’t mean they didn’t want to eat as a family though, so TK and Gwyn hunted up and down the streets of Manhattan in search of someplace that was open. They stumbled onto Spring Street and got enough food not only for their family but for the rest of the station too, and the rest is history.
Watching him tell the story is the most Carlos has seen him talk in days.
Once the takeout containers are all piled together in the middle of the table and everyone’s fortunes have been read, Carlos realizes there’s no real reason for him to stick around any longer.
He helps toss the trash and load the few dishes used into the dishwasher, and then he’s shoving his hands in his pockets and clearing his throat.
“I should probably get home. Unpack and wash the feeling of airport off of me,” he says lamely.
TK looks up at him sharply, something flashing in his eyes. It’s gone before Carlos can make sense of it and then Owen is in his space, clapping him on the shoulder and thanking him for coming with to pay their respects. Carlos gives him a sad smile and nods.
Owen leaves, no doubt to give TK a moment alone with him to say his goodbyes, and despite the silence that’s been ever present the past couple of days, this is the first time there’s been an underlying layer of awkwardness that accompanies it.
TK isn’t even looking at him.
“You can call me if you need anything,” Carlos offers and TK nods. “Alright, well. I’ll see you then.”
Carlos taps his fingers on the counter, lingering one last moment to just simply be in TK’s space when all of a sudden TK is standing from his chair, almost knocking it back with the force of it, and winding his arms around Carlos’ waist.
Carlos pulls him in easily, placing his hand on the back of his head and then his neck as he feels TK grab a fistful of his jacket.
“Thank you,” he whispers. I love you.
Carlos closes his eyes, tilting his head closer to TK’s. If he turned to the right just an inch he could brush his lips against TK’s temple, but he refrains from doing so.
“Of course.” I love you, too.
“Okay,” TK says to himself as he pulls away, like he needed the literal reminder that he should let go. He’s back to not looking at him. “Bye, Carlos.”
“Bye, TK.”
After he grabs his jacket and leaves, Carlos spends at least three minutes sitting in his car.
He watches the lights turn off in the kitchen and another one turns on upstairs. He doesn’t even know why he’s waiting around here, he really does want to take a shower, but even though the loft isn’t going to be any lonelier than normal, going back there right now sounds like a nightmare.
He doesn’t want to sleep in an empty bed after remembering what it’s like to share with TK again. He doesn’t want to go back to moving to tell TK something only to remember he’s not right there. He doesn’t want to go to work tomorrow because he knows TK won’t be back yet. He doesn’t-
The click of the passenger door opening startles him out of his thoughts and he watches with wide eyes as TK slides into the seat. The car is so silent that Carlos is sure TK can hear how loud his heart is beating.
“Can we talk?” TK whispers.
More than anything he wants to say yes, but instead he says, “You sure you want to do this right now? It can wait until you have a clearer head.”
TK shakes his head. “I don’t want to wait anymore, I’ve waited long enough.” He looks directly into Carlos’ eyes, his expression filled with nerves and fear, but maybe a little bit of hope. “Can I come home?”
Carlos lets out an exhale, swallowing down the emotion that’s constricting his throat.
“Yeah,” he nods slowly, curling his fingers over TK’s wrist, right over the pulse point. “Yeah, TK. Let’s go home.”