#and the scheduler put me on a shift with a paramedic instead of with another emt like i requested

[cleardishwashers]

if somebody doesnt pick up my shift on sunday im ending it all

[marjansmarwani]

taken by the tide of morning light

8.8k || ao3

A case of mistaken identity spells bad things for TK as Carlos races against the clock to find him, before it is too late. 

------

tortured for information square fill for @badthingshappenbingo

This prompt was requested by @morganaspendragonss so, so long ago, but it’s finally done. Holly asked for TK whump and while I didn’t do a ton of focus on the torture I do hope you think this was enough whump, my dear. Thank you for the prompt and I hope you enjoy! 

cw: mentions (and minor depictions) of torture. Beta’d by @silvarafael

----------

The last clear memory TK has is of Carlos’s soft smile right before he leaned over to kiss him on the cheek, a thank you for the coffee TK had brought him. He distantly recalls the wolf-whistles from Carlos’s co-workers and the exasperated eye roll from Mitchell, but it’s Carlos’s smile and the feel of his lips on his cheek that stay with TK. 

After that, all he knows for sure is a flash of pain; and then darkness. 

Even now he wasn’t fully sure where he was. His mind was a haze of pain, sounds, and sensations blurring together. He blinked, trying to clear his vision, to get a look at his surroundings. It felt as if he was restrained, somehow, and he thought that he could make out a figure hovering nearby. Turning his head to get a better look took considerable effort but when he managed he saw a man watching him. 

“You’re awake,” the man said, “good. Now we can get started.” 

“Started with what?” TK asked, making a conscious effort to keep his voice steady. Calm and steady was the best way to approach this — he knew that from both his time dealing with victims and from Carlos. Keep calm, keep them calm, and try to make a connection — that was what would get him through this, whatever it was.  

The man approached, studying TK as he grew closer. “You’re going to tell me what you know about the Goethe homicide.” 

TK wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this. “The what?” 

“The Goethe homicide!” The man repeated, voice growing louder with his frustration “I need to know who did it!” 

“Why?” TK asked, hoping to deflect because he had no idea what the fuck the man was talking about, “Why do you need to know?” 

“Because it’s my wife they killed, and I need to kill them.” 

He said it so matter of factly, as if it were simply an item on his to-do list. TK swallowed, his mind racing as he tried to think of the best way to respond to that. He couldn’t tell the other man anything about the case because he didn’t know about the case. Honesty, he decided, was sometimes the best policy. 

“I can’t tell you anything,” he told the man carefully, “because I don’t know anything.” 

That just caused him to scoff, “Please. Even if you’re not working it you have to know something. A police station is just like any other office — people talk. You have to have heard something around the water cooler.” 

And suddenly it clicked in TK’s mind: this man thought he was a cop. 

“I don’t work for the police department,” he said carefully, making sure to keep his words clear and his tone even. “I’m a paramedic, I work at AFD Station 126. I am not a cop and I don’t know anything about the case you’re talking about.” 

“Then what were you doing at the precinct so early,” the other man scoffed, “don’t lie to me.” 

“I’m not lying,” TK repeated earnestly. “I just stopped to visit my fiancé before my shift. Our schedules haven’t lined up much over the past week and I wanted a chance to see him so I brought him coffee.” 

“You’re lying,” the man said again, voice full with just as much certainty as before. 

“I’m not,” TK repeated softly, but he was becoming increasingly aware it was fruitless. 

“You are!” his captor shouted and TK flinched as he stepped closer. The man came to a stop, now only a few inches from TK as he spoke again, “You’re lying and I need to know. I need to know who killed my wife. The fact that they are out there, still free and still living and she’s dead is…” he trailed off and when he spoke again his voice was heavy with grief: “It’s wrong.” 

TK studied the man more closely. What he saw before him was grief; a loss felt so deeply it had changed a man’s entire existence. Whoever he may have been before it was clear that all he lived for now was revenge and though TK didn’t agree on a moral level, he could understand. Maybe he and Carlos weren’t married yet but he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that if he lost Carlos he would lose everything. It was a fear that lurked in the back of his mind; it had been there for years now. Carlos was one half of his soul; he was intertwined with his very being. Life without him was unthinkable and his heart went out to the man before him who had so clearly lost the person he loved and was feeling the very thing TK feared. 

“I can’t imagine how you’re feeling right now,” TK finally said. “I can’t imagine how much losing the person you love must hurt. I understand why you want to do this, but you have to know it’s not going to change anything. It’s not going to bring her back.” 

“No,” he agreed, “but it will make me feel better.” 

“Will it though?” TK asked. “Will taking someone else’s life really make you feel better?” 

“I can’t imagine I can feel any worse,” the man replied drily, “so I figure it’s worth a shot.” 

“What about your wife?” TK said instead. He knew he was taking a gamble but maybe, just maybe, he could help him see sense. “Would she want you to do this? Is this how she would want you honoring her memory? Would she want you to throw your life away?” 

There was quiet for a moment and TK thought that maybe he had broken through. But then the man shook his head and took another step forward, shaking his head. 

“I don’t have a life without her,” he said dully. “And thanks to whoever that manic was, I have no way of knowing what she would have wanted, do I?” TK and the man studied each other for a few moments and TK was sure that all the fear he was now feeling was showing clearly through his eyes. This was a desperate man before him and it was becoming increasingly clear that not only would he not listen to reason, he wasn’t about to let anything stand in his way either.

“That’s okay though,” he said after a drawn-out moment, leaning over to pick up something from the ground besides TK, “because you’re going to tell me who he is and where to find him.” 

TK’s eyes grew wider as he took in the bat now clutched in the man’s hands. “Wait,” he tried again, “I don’t—” 

But any further protestations were cut off by a gasp of pain and then another as the blows began to land and TK’s entire being was wrapped in nothing but pain. 

-------

This had seemed like the never-ending shift from hell, but it was finally coming to an end. Carlos breathed a sigh of relief as he glanced at the clock on the wall and saw that there were only 30 minutes left in their shift. Maybe if everything stayed calm…

But the sound of their radios crackling to life caused him to audibly groan. Of course they had one more call that would inevitably run over and keep them there late. He didn’t know why he was surprised; that was kind of how the night had been. He drained the last of the coffee TK had dropped off — the only good thing to happen in the past 12 hours — and stood, meeting Mitchell’s gaze to see a similar expression. 

“Cheer up,” his partner offered, “it’s an accident, you might get to see that fiancé of yours.” 

Despite everything that thought brought a smile to Carlos’s face, and caused his partner to roll her eyes. 

“I work with a lovesick teenager,” she muttered, but Carlos just grinned wider. 

“You’re just jealous Mitchell,” he teased, lightly jabbing her with his elbow as he passed her on the way to their squad car. 

“You keep telling yourself that, Reyes,” she called after him, but she was grinning. 

They kept up their stream of banter as they climbed into their squad car and headed towards the scene. When they arrived and climbed out of the car, Carlos couldn’t help from looking first towards the fire vehicles, trying to get a glimpse at the number on the side. 

He was saved the trouble when he heard a familiar voice and he looked over his shoulder to see Mateo doing his best to wave as he jogged by, arms laden with equipment. Mitchell rolled her eyes again beside him and he grinned at her. 

“Just don’t keep us here too long after we are done making heart eyes at your boy,” she requested with an air of exhaustion. “I want to go home.” 

Carlos shook his head at her before they parted, approaching different halves of the scene and taking statements. As predicted it took longer than the last 30 minutes of their shift and it was nearly an hour later that they finally returned to their squad car. He glanced over at where the ambulance was parked — there had been no injuries that required transportation to the hospital, thankfully — and his partner sighed. 

“Go,” she said wearily, “I can last a few more minutes I suppose. I’ll just be daydreaming about my bed while you’re gone.” 

Carlos gave her a grateful smile. He hadn’t seen TK at all while he was dealing with the witnesses and it just wouldn’t feel right to leave without at least saying hello. Especially because with their shifts being back to back it would be at least another 12 hours before he got another chance to see him. 

He made his way over to the ambulance, peeking around the open doors to find Nancy in the back, putting away their supplies. 

“Hey Nance,” he said in greeting, “where’s TK?” 

“Late,” Nancy said, snapping the drawer she had been filling shut. “He didn’t make it to the station on time; we had to leave before he got there.” 

Carlos frowned at her, “Did he call you at all?” 

“Nope,” Nancy declared with a shake of her head. “And he didn’t answer when I called, so I figured he just overslept. Which wouldn’t be that bad but the call for this accident came in just a few minutes after shift started. Chances are he’s waiting at the station now, dreading the amount of schlep work he’s going to have to do to make up for being late and missing a call.” 

Nancy was grinning mischievously but Carlos was experiencing the sensation of the world falling down around him. Something was wrong. 

“He didn’t oversleep,” he finally managed and his tone had Nancy straightening up and looking at him with a furrowed brow. “He stopped by the precinct this morning with coffee. He left with plenty of time to make it to the station, he should have been there on time. It’s only two miles.” 

Nancy’s expression shifted as he spoke and by the time he was done she was wearing a matching expression of concern. Tommy and Owen chose that moment to walk by, Tommy pausing as she registered the looks on each of their faces. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked, causing Owen to stop beside her. The two captains looked at them expectantly, and Carlos swallowed. 

“I think something happened to TK.” 

-------

Another blow landed and TK gasped as the impact jarred his solar plexus, knocking the breath out of him. He tried to gasp for air but none came and all he succeeded in doing was aggravating the pain in his damaged ribs — a few of which were cracked, at the very least. He reminded himself not to panic, that his breath would come back. 

The man lowered the bat and casually leaned on it, studying TK as he tried to steady his breathing. The desperate breaths sent pain ripping through his chest so he did his best to calm himself, to even out his breathing. All the while he leveled his gaze at the other man, who looked back at him. 

“You know,” he said as he stepped back, “if you just told me the truth this would be over.” 

“I have been telling you the truth,” TK gasped, still struggling to pull enough air into his lungs to speak. “I’m not who you think I am, just like I’ve been saying.” 

“No,” the man said again, voice more desperate, “you’re lying!” 

“I’m not,” TK said evenly, watching the man closely. He was teetering on the edge, all it would take was one wrong move or word to send him into complete hysteria and TK didn’t know what that move or word might be. Every single time he opened his mouth it felt like stepping off a landmine, waiting to see if it would explode. 

“You have to be!” his captor argued. “That was the plan, and my plan didn’t fail! It can’t fail, I need to know.” 

“Maybe if you let me call someone,” TK offered hesitantly, “we can get you the information you’re looking for. Because I don’t have it, and no amount of hurting me is going to change that.” 

The man was quiet for a few moments and TK allowed himself to grasp onto a little hope — maybe he had gotten through to him. Maybe it would be okay. 

But the next moment proved him wrong as his captor’s face contorted in rage and he lashed out. TK flinched away, closing his eyes as the man moved towards him. He was unsurprised when pain exploded, though it wasn’t the type of pain he had been expecting. He had grown accustomed to the pain of the blows from the bat, but the blinding white-hot pain now exploding from his leg was new. He opened a tentative eye to see the hilt of a knife sticking out of his leg and it took every ounce of his self-control to not react. The last thing he needed was to feed into this and get him more riled up. 

Especially because the knife seemed to be embedded alarmingly close to where his femoral artery should be located, the last thing he needed was it being ripped out by an angry kidnapper. If he was right once it was removed he would be dead in a matter of minutes. His best chance — his only chance — was the knife staying put until help arrived. 

Because help would arrive, he was sure of it. 

The man seemed to get his last burst of anger out with the knife because he stepped away after that, turning around and muttering to himself. TK watched him warily, doing his best to read his body language and gauge his mental state. He knew he wasn’t stable, but if he could just find an opening; a way to get him to listen to reason he might just live to see the end of this. 

But the frantic pacing and muttering he was doing didn’t instill a lot of hope. TK pulled his eyes away from him and looked longingly towards the door. Help was coming, he didn’t doubt that. He just hoped they made it before it was too late. 

--------

It was as if TK had just vanished. 

They knew he had left the precinct at 5:40 — Carlos, three of his coworkers, and the desk sergeant on duty could confirm that. None of them had noticed anything amiss. The last anyone knew he had waved at Sergeant Grover and stepped through the front doors into the early morning chill. 

Then, nothing. 

A quick (unofficial) search found his car still parked on the street in front of the precinct. It was maybe 50 feet of distance — so short in the grand scheme of things — and somehow TK Strand had disappeared within its space. 

Carlos had brought it to his superiors and while they were sympathetic they reminded him that it was too soon to list him as a missing person. He was an adult of sound mind and body: until foul play could be reasonably proven there would be no official investigation. 

So Carlos played his trump card; it’s the only thing he could do. 

He waited anxiously as the phone rang, pacing as he waited. 

Finally, the ringing stopped. 

“Carlitos,” his dad’s voice said, warm and cheerful, “we were just talking about you! Anderson was just saying that he thinks you and TK should skip the--” 

“Dad,” he interrupted, skipping past the pleasantries and whatever opinion Anderson had about their wedding plans and right into what mattered, “I think something happened to TK.” 

“What?” The change in his Dad’s voice was stark. “What do you mean?” 

“I know it’s too soon to label him as a missing person, but he didn’t show up at work and I saw him right before that and he was on his way and we can’t get a hold of him and....” 

“Tranquilo, Carlitos,” his dad urged softly over the phone, “take a breath and then tell me what happened, from the beginning. 

So he did. He took a breath and then told his dad how TK had stopped by the precinct with coffee this morning, how he had left 20 minutes before his shift started, how he had never made it to the station. How his car was still parked on the street by the precinct. 

He told him everything, and then waited. 

Though it felt like an eternity it was only a few moments later when Gabriel responded. “I’m coming to you,” he said, and Carlos could hear the rustlings of movements on the other end of the call. “We’ll figure this out mijo, whatever it is.” 

Carlos leaned against his car, almost sagging with relief. It wasn’t that he had expected his dad to not believe him, to not immediately offer to help; but knowing that he was on his way here and that he would have help gave him a little bit of hope. 

“Thank you,” he breathed, feeling just a bit of the panic that had been crushing him since Nancy had told him TK never showed up to work melt away. 

“Of course. Try not to worry, we’ll figure out what happened. Nothing can stop the combined powers of the Reyes men, after all.” 

He knew his dad was going for a joke, was trying to lighten the mood and Carlos appreciated it. 

“Right,” he agreed with a small, hollow laugh. With a last thanks, he ended the call. 

Left with nothing to do but wait, Carlos thought back to the talk he had had with his Captain and one of the detectives. He could read between the lines of the official answer — no one on the force was going to stop him from investigating, they just couldn’t do anything to help him, officially. Never before had he been so glad his dad worked in a different capacity. Though if he were being honest, Carlos knew that even if he had been ordered to stand down it wouldn’t have stopped him. Nothing would have stopped him from doing everything he could to find TK. 

He was running through all the awful possibilities for the third time when his dad arrived. Before he could say anything his dad pulled him into a hug. 

“We’ll find him, mijo,” he assured Carlos softly, “no te preocupes.” 

“Pretty sure that’s impossible,” he retorted wryly, and his dad shrugged. 

“Let’s just take it one step at a time, yeah?” Gabriel said instead. “Do we have any clues or signs of him after leaving the precinct?” 

Carlos shook his head, “No. The precinct cameras only cover the entrance so he’s on camera leaving, but that’s it. And there are no signs of a struggle or anything by his car. It’s as if he just up and vanished.” 

“You know as well as I that no one ever vanishes,” Gabriel replied, giving the area a critical glance. “They always go somewhere and they always leave a trace. Maybe we can try to see if any other place got him on camera? So we can reconstruct the time after he left the precinct?” 

Carlos nodded, having considered that in the time he spent waiting for his dad, “I think the deli across the street has cameras. I don’t know how much they see but…”

“But it’s worth a try,” his dad agreed. “Then let’s go ask nicely — it’s not an official investigation, after all.” 

“Why should I help you?” the owner asked with a shrug when they explained their request, “a man’s business is a man’s business and I’m not about to get involved in that.” 

“Please,” Carlos interjected, cutting off his dad’s likely professional reply, “he’s my fiancé, and disappearing on his way to work is definitely not like him. I just want to make sure he’s okay.” 

The owner studied him for a moment before shrugging, “Makes no difference to me, have at it. Monitor’s in the backroom — down that hall, first door on the left.” 

Carlos nodded his thanks and led the way to the indicated room, his dad on his heels. They found the room and got the footage running with no problem but the process of finding the right footage was tedious, to say the least. 

Despite his best efforts, Carlos was barely watching — his head too full of anxiety and fear to truly focus on something as mundane as the passage of day-to-day life that crossed across the camera’s view. It was a busy street in Downtown Austin; there was so much activity it was hard to follow. But Carlos has grown good at spotting TK in any crowd, and apparently on camera was no different. 

“Wait!” he exclaimed, sitting bolt upright in the chair to the right of the monitor. “Go back a few frames and let it run at regular speed.” 

His dad did as he asked and a few moments later they were rewarded by a familiar car pulling up to the curb and a face he would recognize anywhere climbing out. They watched as he reached back into the car for the tray of coffees and box of donuts he had brought into the precinct before he shut the car door behind him and stepped out of the frame. They both watched intently, watching for any chance he might step back into the camera's view. 

Carlos could play through what had happened when TK had entered the precinct verbatim in his head, and he did as they waited, trying to anticipate the moment his fiancé would step back outside into the early morning sun. 

Carlos was finishing up an incident report from an earlier call when Sergeant Grover called over to him, “Reyes!” he had shouted, “your man’s here — and he brought donuts!” 

The enthusiasm in the older man’s voice made Carlos chuckle, but the sight of one Tyler Kennedy Strand leaning against the front desk waiting for him made him feel something entirely else. 

“Hey,” he said fondly as he approached, reaching out to press a chaste kiss to the other man’s lips. 

“Hey yourself,” TK replied warmly before reaching behind him and producing a cup, “I brought you some coffee — figured you could use some.”

Carlos took it gratefully, inhaling the enticing scent of hazelnut as the cup came closer, “Have I mentioned lately that I love you?” 

“It may have come up,” TK quipped, “but I never get tired of hearing it.” 

“Well in that case,” Carlos said, stepping as close as he dared considering that he was still in uniform and they were still very much in his place of work, “I love you, mostly because you keep me caffeinated.” 

“Oh is that why?” TK asked with a raised eyebrow, “Because I thought it was the way I…” 

Sergeant Grover cleared his throat pointedly, reminding them both that he was still only a few feet away and Carlos felt his cheeks heat up, but TK only laughed brightly. 

“That’s why I brought you the apple turnovers you like Sergeant, to make up for this.” 

“Are you bribing an officer of the law, Strand?” The desk sergeant asked and TK shrugged. 

“I don’t know, is it working?” 

“You know it is, son,” the older man chuckled and pulled one of the promised turnovers out of the box with a grin. 

Carlos shook his head fondly and TK grinned at him unabashedly before Carlos nodded to the rest of the coffees in the carrier, “Are these more blatant efforts to butter up my coworkers?” 

“We are well past that babe, they already like me. These are just to make sure they keep liking me.” 

Carlos snorted because he knew all too well the chances of them not liking TK for any reason were extremely slim. He had been coming around the station fairly regularly over the entire course of their relationship — not to mention all the times they worked together in the field —  and had developed his own relationships with most of Carlos’s coworkers. So he just gestured for TK to lead the way and followed his fiancé back into the bullpen. 

Twenty minutes of coffee and chatting later TK glanced down at his watch and grimaced. “My shift starts at 6,” he explained, “so I better get going.” He slid off the desk he had been sitting on, chatting with Mitchell, before stepping into Carlos’s space. Carlos leaned forward to place a warm kiss on his cheek and TK squeezed his hand affectionately before he stepped away. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” he had said with a soft, warm smile. 

And then he had left, disappeared into thin air. 

The video before him ran, each of those twenty glorious minutes he had gotten to spend with TK passing by at a snail’s pace, but he was too afraid to speed it up. He didn’t want to miss anything that might help. 

He could feel his father’s eyes on him and briefly pulled his own from the video feed to meet them. His gaze was worried and Carlos tried to give him a smile. His father simply shook his head and patted his knee gently, “We’ll find him, mijo. No one messes with our family on my watch.” 

Carlos swallowed and nodded, feeling a little bolstered by his father’s reassurance, despite everything. 

It’s a few minutes later when Carlos sat bolt upright, the sight of TK stepping back into the frame putting him on alert. He watched intently as TK pulled his keys from his pocket and stepped towards his car, eyes cast down as he sorted through the ring for the correct key. It was only because he was watching so closely that he noticed a dark sedan slow to a halt beside him, its driver climbing out and addressing TK. Whatever he said got TK to look up and pause, waiting as the man stepped closer. He was gesturing vaguely, his face plastered with a polite smile that TK matched. As they spoke he moved closer and though Carlos knew what was going to happen before it did, watching the moment the man struck out a TK wasn’t any easier with warning.

TK — caught completely off guard — crumbled at the blow, only for the other man to catch him before he fell and drag him towards the car. He opened the trunk and shoved TK in unceremoniously; taking furtive glances around the area as he did. Once the trunk was closed with TK inside the man dashed around to the driver’s seat and climbed into; speeding away down the deserted street. 

Carlos’s heart was racing when he pulled his eyes from the monitor to face his dad. 

“He was taken,” he said, voice low and horrified. 

Gabriel nodded, his expression dark and serious but when he spoke his tone was hopeful: “But he wasn’t very careful, we have a license plate. We’ll be able to track him down.” 

“Unless the car is stolen,” Carlos muttered, too deep in the fear and horror of what he had just seen to acknowledge a bright side. The man hadn’t even tried to cover his face, and Carlos didn’t want to think about what that could mean for TK. 

“We’ve done more with less,” his dad reminded him bracingly, “don’t lose hope.” 

Carlos nodded. While he appreciated his dad’s help and optimism, he couldn’t find it in himself to replicate it; not yet. Right now every possibility of what could be happening to TK, of what could go wrong was flying through his head. All he knew for sure is that they had to find TK, no matter what. 

He told his dad as much, and Gabriel nodded. “We will,” he assured Carlos, “and this helps. I’m going to call it in, see what they can find on that plate. Hopefully, we’ll have an answer soon and we can get TK back.” 

Carlos watched as his dad made his phone call, his eyes traveling back to the monitor in front of him before long. He stared at the frozen image of the car holding TK speeding away and hoped that wherever TK was, he knew that Carlos was coming for him. 

--------

Help was coming, TK knew that. 

He knew Carlos would find him and he knew that it was only a matter of time. He just hoped it was soon, because he wasn’t sure how much time he had left. He was doing his best to hold on but his body was about at its limit; ready to give in to the darkness coming ever closer as all of the pain and stress and the blood loss piled on. It’s all too much and he doesn’t need to be a paramedic to know he won’t survive much more. 

He blinked his heavy eyes as he tried to keep track of his kidnapper. He had told him time and time again that he is not a cop, that he can’t give him the information he wants because he doesn’t know what the hell he is talking about but it’s been no use. He doesn’t believe him and TK was starting to think that he is too far gone to listen to reason. The man is past the point of breaking, and TK never stood a chance. 

As time passed the blows became more and more erratic and TK had watched his captor become more and more unhinged with each passing moment. He had been doing his best to be hopeful, to stay optimistic; but now he was pretty sure he was going to die here. The thought  filled him with a cold certainty that is growing with each passing moment and drip of his blood onto the floor. 

He has had time to dwell on it now — it’s served as a distraction between moments of pain. The first thought that comes to mind is that he doesn’t have any regrets. If he had been faced with the same question not all that long ago he would have had many but he has made his peace with his mistakes and he is happy with where he is. The second thought is for his loved ones, for his parents and the family he had found here in Austin. He hates the idea of them enduring yet another loss in so little time and he is sorry that he will be the cause of their pain. 

But mostly he thinks about Carlos. He loved him so much. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with him and, while he was grateful to have had any time at all with him, it wasn’t enough. He wanted to marry Carlos and grow old with him. He didn’t want to leave him 6 months before their wedding with nothing more than fond memories and wishful thinking about what they could have had. He didn’t want to be the cause of his pain. 

He also knew that just because he didn’t have any regrets didn’t mean he’s ready to go. He had spent so long fighting for this life he had now — he wasn’t ready to give it up.

“I don’t know anything,” he tried again. “I’m not a cop, I’m a paramedic. I can’t give you the information you want.” 

Maybe, he thought, the 23rd time's the charm. 

“Stop lying to me!” the other man yells, fisting his hands into his hair as he turned away from TK. 

“I’m not,” TK told him again, softly this time. “I haven’t lied to you at all. Please,” he tried because what could it hurt, “I just want to go home. To see my family and my fiancé. I just want to survive this.” 

In all the time they had been in this situation (hours? Days? He had no idea anymore) TK had never voiced this desire but now he found he can’t keep it inside. The desperate need to survive overrode everything else and if begging was what it took he was willing to go there.

His captor faltered, turning back to him with something like a curious expression. 

“I’m not going to kill you,” he says, his tone laced with surprise and confusion. “If I kill you, you can't tell me what you know.”  

“Then I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” TK said once he recovered from the shock, “but unless you drive me to a hospital within the next hour, I don’t think you’ll have a choice. I’ve lost too much blood as it is; much more and I won’t survive it.” 

The man furrowed his brow as he considered TK’s words and TK let himself hope for a wild moment that maybe he had gotten through to him. But in the next the confusion was gone and he was shaking his head and striding forward again. 

“No,” he said matter of factly, “you’re going to tell me what I need to know.” 

He reached for the bat again and TK wanted to scream in frustration. He didn’t know anything, he never had. He was going to die here, for what?

He watched in grim acceptance as the man stepped forward, raising his bat to strike again but before he could complete the action there was an almighty crash from behind and TK got a glimpse of a swarm of police officers before his captor moved and blocked his field of vision. He dropped the bat and TK watched in horror as he reached forward and yanked the knife out of TK’s thigh. He was powerless to do anything but watch with dread as the heavy bleeding he knew would come erupted from the wound, gushing out at an alarming rate. He struggled against his bindings, pulling against the ropes in the hope that maybe he could break free and staunch the bleeding. But no matter how hard he tugged there was no give. He couldn’t believe that help was here but he was going to die anyway. 

There was commotion around him but his vision was starting to blur at the edges. The feeling of hands on his body and fresh pain exploding from his leg pulled him back to the present long enough to take note of a familiar figure crouched beside him applying pressure to the wound in an effort to stop the bleeding, yelling orders over his shoulder before turning back to TK with fear in his eyes and TK was suddenly not sure of what he was seeing at all. He had never seen fear like this in the eyes of his future father-in-law. 

“Stay with me son,” Gabriel said urgently, tone soft but somehow still commanding as he tightened his grip on the wound. “I do not intend to lose any family members today.” 

TK wanted to say something to that, wanted to make a quip to put the older man’s mind at ease. But it was taking all his energy to keep his eyes open, which probably had something to do with the blood seeping out from between the Ranger’s fingers. He somehow found it in him to ask the one question he had in his mind —  the one thing he wanted more than anything right now — and was beyond grateful it could be summed up in one word. 

“Carlos?” he asked, noting with a grimace how weak his voice was. 

“He’s just outside,” Gabriel informed him, “but if I know my son he’ll be here in a matter of seconds.” 

And suddenly he was — his familiar figure sinking to his knees besides TK, his beautiful brown eyes seeking TK’s own. He didn’t speak, instead choosing to reach a hand out to cup TK’s cheek, but his eyes said it all. They were filled with fear and unshed tears and so much love it almost hurt. TK leaned into the familiar touch, allowing it to ground him and using it as an anchor tying him to consciousness. 

“Hey you,” he managed after a few moments, needing the time even to muster those two syllables. 

“Hey yourself,” Carlos responded, never missing a beat as he placed his other hand on TK’s good knee. “Just hang in there Ty, paramedics are on their way in right now.”

“It’s not my team, is it?” TK tried to ask but he was sure the words were more slur than syllable. “They shouldn’t…” he wanted to say they shouldn’t have to see him like this, that they shouldn’t have to treat their team member but Carlos shook his head. 

“It doesn’t matter,” he told him. “All that matters is that you hang on. I know it hurts but you need to stay with us, TK. You need to stay with me.” 

TK nodded because he knew what Carlos was saying was true and he wanted to do that. He wanted that more than anything. He had been so afraid he was never going to see Carlos again and now he was here. TK wanted nothing more than to stay here with him. 

But his will was no match for the massive blood loss and he could feel himself slipping away. There was commotion everywhere: police taking the man into custody as he struggled, screaming about needing answers. Gabriel talking to him, urging him to stay awake and shouting for paramedics to help. It was all hectic and loud but it blurred into the background because the only thing that mattered to TK was Carlos and his calm, steady presence and tear-filled eyes. TK held those eyes with his own, latching into them like a lifeline. There was so much he wanted to say but he had no strength to say any of it. He hoped Carlos knew (he was pretty sure he did). 

Carlos’s eyes were the last thing he saw before his strength left him and everything faded to black, his voice shouting TK’s name following him into the darkness.

--------

Carlos spent the next few hours wearing a hole in the waiting room floor. 

If TK were here he would tease him, tell him that pacing enough to cause structural damage was his deal; not Carlos’s. 

But TK wasn’t here and the terror of watching his eyes close as he slipped somewhere Carlos couldn’t follow was still as fresh now as it had been in that moment. So he paced, for lack of anything better to do. He paced because if he sat he might think, and he couldn’t handle that right now. He couldn’t dwell on everything he stands to lose. He thought that maybe, if he kept moving, he could outrun his thoughts. 

The fact that he knew it was impossible wasn’t going to stop him from trying.

Others filter in and it’s all Carlos can do to even acknowledge their presence. He stops pacing when Owen arrives, pale and trembling because while Carlos knew his dad did his best to sound optimistic on the phone when he called the fire captain there is only so much of a positive spin you could put on this. He froze at the sight of the older man and opened his mouth, a hundred different apologies on the tip of his tongue; a thousand ways in which he should have been better, that he should have protected TK. 

But all of that is cut off when Owen pulls him into a hug, clutching him tightly and showing no sign of letting go. When they pull apart no words are spoken but Carlos could see the message clear in Owen’s eyes: this isn’t his fault. 

Carlos wished he could believe him, but he appreciated the sentiment all the same. 

When his mother arrived there was fear and anguish in her eyes. She beelined straight for him and wrapped him in the hug only a mother can give. There was safety in it and for a moment Carlos allowed himself to sag against her smaller frame, to take the comfort he so desperately needed. Then, he pulled himself up. If he fell apart now he wouldn’t be able to keep going. He needed to keep himself together for a little longer, just until he knew that TK was okay. 

Because he had to be okay; no other answer was bearable.  

Carlos knew he was not the only one who felt that way because when the doctor entered the waiting room there was a room full of eyes on him and the crushing silence of an entire family holding their collective breath. But then the doctor smiled and suddenly Carlos could breathe again. 

There were a whole lot of words and medical terms but Carlos cuts it down to the crux of it: TK didn’t die, but he gave it his best shot. There was talk of massive blood loss and transfusions and trauma to the chest and soft tissue damage and it’s all so much but TK is alive and for now, that’s what Carlos was going to focus on. 

He followed the nurse to the recovery room a few minutes later and when he got his first glimpse at TK, the optimism fled from his mind. TK looked so wrong in that bed: so still, so hurt. The heart monitor next to him traced each beat of that heart he loved so well but even still Carlos had a hard time believing it. It all looked so wrong. 

He took a hesitant step closer, and then another. Eventually, his feet carried him to TK’s bedside and he sank into the chair next to the bed; reaching out to take TK’s hand in his but hesitating. He didn’t want to do anything without TK’s consent, given everything. 

He hadn’t been able to focus on much during the waiting but he hadn’t been able to help but notice the grim look on his father’s face when he had gotten off the phone. It had taken some doing but he had managed to get his father to tell him what the officer questioning TK’s captor had found out: TK had been tortured. 

It had been a revelation that had brought his pacing to a halt and he would have likely collapsed if his father hadn’t gently pushed him into a seat as every inch of his body trembled. Even now the thought filled him with both a cold fury and raging fear: TK had been tortured; hurt repeatedly for information he didn’t even have. Now he was here before Carlos and he could only hope that he was strong enough to see them both through this; that he would be strong enough to support TK. Because while the doctor had assured them that the physical wounds would heal with time, Carlos had a sinking feeling that the mental ones would take a lot longer. 

So he sits quietly, close but never touching as TK sleeps on. And when TK wakes an hour later and reaches for his hand he clutches at it like a lifeline, smiling through the tears as he gently leans forward to press a kiss to his forehead. They didn’t speak but they didn’t need to. Carlos knew that everything he was feeling was shared — the fear, the worry, the relief, the love. When he squeezed his hand and looked into his eyes Carlos knew that TK understood the promise left unsaid: whatever came next he wouldn’t face alone.

-------

TK’s not fine. 

He’s well aware of this fact, and he’s pretty sure Carlos is too. It’s hard to hide things from the person who knows you better than anyone and who also happens to sleep in the same bed as you, after all. 

Physically, he’s solid. The bruises have faded, his ribs have healed. His body has replenished all the blood that was left on the floor of that abandoned warehouse. He passed all his physical exams with flying colors and has been back at work for about a week now. 

But though the bruises have faded and the pain is gone, the memories are not. Some days are better than others and today...is not a good day. 

He wakes in a cold sweat and sits bolt upright, chest heaving as the remanents of the dream that had woken him cling to his mind. He knows it’s a dream. He knows it’s not real but his mind has so helpfully filled in all the blanks; bringing back the sounds and smells and sensations,  slotting them perfectly into place, and fuck if it doesn’t feel every bit as real each and every time. 

He reminds himself to breathe and looks around the room falling into the familiar pattern. 5 things he can see: the door, the clock on his nightstand, the throw blanket at the end of their bed, the glare of a streetlight through the window, Carlos laying beside him. 4 things he can touch: the soft gray duvet covering their bed, the soft material of the faded APD shirt he had fallen asleep in, the coolness of the sheets beneath him, the corner of Carlos’s pillow brushing against his arm. 

He goes through the rest of the list, using his senses to anchor him back to reality before he takes a deep shuddering breath and quietly slides out of bed. He glances at Carlos’s still sleeping form before he steps away, slipping out their bedroom door and down the stairs to the kitchen. He knew his fiancé would want him to wake him, would remind him time and time again that he wanted to be there for him; that TK wasn’t a burden. 

But he couldn’t help but feel like one. 

Carlos had been his rock this entire time. In the month since his abduction, Carlos had been by his side each and every day for both the good and the bad. He had held him as he cried, he had stepped away when being so near someone was too much. He had treaded carefully in his own home, he had learned to spot the signs of a panic attack and had coached TK through far too many of them. And he had done it all without complaint because that was who Carlos Reyes was and while TK appreciated it more than he could ever say, he hated it in equal measure. 

He was trying to be okay, but he wasn’t and he knew he wouldn’t be for a while. His therapist assured him he was making great strides and TK believed her and he knew it was going to be a process but that did nothing to quell his frustration. There was still a part of him — a traitorous part he hadn’t been able to shake despite everything and all the growth he had managed in the past few years — that wondered when Carlos would finally have enough. 

Which is why he slipped out into the dark kitchen, alone. He just needed to pull himself together and go back to bed. Then he could go back to sleep and Carlos would wake up in the morning, none the wiser. He didn’t have to know that even now, over a month later, TK still couldn’t get through a night. 

Or at least, that was the plan. 

The reality was footsteps on the stairs as TK pulled his head out of his hands to see Carlos standing at the edge of the kitchen, studying him with concerned eyes. 

“Hi,” TK says lamely as Carlos carefully steps into the kitchen. 

“Hi,” Carlos says in return. He didn’t say anything else, but he didn’t have to. They knew each other so well they could have entire conversations without saying a word and everything from the way he was carrying himself to the way he was rubbing his fingers together told TK that he was upset. 

“I’m sorry,” he said after a moment, “I didn’t want to wake you.”

Carlos merely sighed and stepped closer, gently placing a hand on top of TK’s, lightly enough that he could pull away if he wanted to. “That’s not what I’m upset about, Ty, and you know it.” 

Tk looked down at the counter then, examining the color variations in the granite as he avoided Carlos’s eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I just hate feeling like such a burden. You should be able to sleep through a night without your basket case of a fiancé waking you up with the same damn dream he’s been having for weeks. You shouldn’t have to deal with this.” 

TK felt light fingers on his chin and allowed his head to be lifted so his eyes were faced with Carlos’s. They were just as warm and loving as always, but there was a sadness in them too. 

“You didn’t ask for this either,” Carlos reminded him, “and I wish more than anything you never had to go through that. But it happened and I am not going to leave you to deal with it alone. I care about you far too much for that.” 

TK could feel his shoulders loosening at Carlos’s words but he wasn’t ready to accept them just yet.

“Still…” he began, but Carlos shook his head. 

“Still nothing,” he told him firmly. “Don’t even try to tell me that if the roles were reversed you wouldn’t be standing right where I am, doing the exact same thing. You would never leave me to deal with anything like this on my own, why do you think you deserve to?” 

TK was quiet for a few moments before he finally spoke the words that had been hounding him. “I just hate being a burden,” he admitted so softly it was almost a whisper. “You deserve better than that.” 

Carlos shook his head. “I deserve to have the man I love be happy and safe,” he said instead. “And if that’s not possible I am going to do everything I can to make you feel as close to it as you can. We’re about to promise for better or worse in front of a room full of people we know, now is not the time to try and pull a solo act, TK. We’re in this together, just like always.”

TK blinked against the tears that had appeared in his eyes. He managed a small smile as he nodded, twisting his hand on the counter so he could grasp Carlos’s and squeeze it. Carlos returned his smile and leaned across the counter to press a light kiss to TK’s lips.

“Do you feel up to going back to bed?” he asked when he pulled away. “We can cuddle on the couch and put on a movie or something if you’re not. Whatever you need.”

For what was probably the hundredth time that day TK was floored by just how lucky he was to have Carlos in his life, to be loved by someone like him. He stepped around the counter, closing the distance between them as he pressed himself against Carlos’s chest. He smiled into the other man’s shirt when his arms instinctively wrapped around him.

“Let’s go to bed,” he said after a beat. “Just, promise me you won’t let go?”

“Never,” Carlos assured him as he pressed a kiss into his hair. “You’re stuck with me forever. For better or worse, remember?”

TK simply smiled in response and allowed himself to be led back up the stairs and to their bed. As they settled back underneath the blankets and Carlos settled against TK’s back and wrapped his familiar arms around him TK took a deep breath and closed his eyes with a smile on his lips.

Perhaps they had agreed upon for better or worse, but he had a feeling that maybe soon better would be on its way. 

[justapoet]

Can it be 43 for Tarlos

It sure can, Anon! I hope you like it! ♡

43. "Being a morning person does make you wierd, but it does not  give you the right to leave without kissing me."

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gleaming, twinkling (eyes like sinking)

The first thing people learn about first-responders is just how crazy their work hours can be. Not only the calls, because people find amazingly wild ways to do the simplest of things, but how their agenda bends and breaks to fit in the calendars.

Holidays aren't quite a thing, and forty-eight hours shifts at any moment can fill weekends. Some days go by without an hour of sleep, while others settle in boredom and a weirdly unfamiliar peace around them. It was something they had to learn to get used to as soon as the job begins, even if the frustrations would still remain.

TK knew that it was something he had to deal with, but it was his choice, and it was worth it. He grew up learning his father's crazy schedules and the exhaustion that followed him around, and it had been his choice to do that — to be like his father, to help people —, and he didn't regret it, not a bit.

Until the morning, of course.

The thing is — first-responders, for them to date, really, it took someone who understands the craziness and the problems and the burdens. Someone who didn't mind rescheduling dates and spent sleeping anniversaries, and that some days were just more arduous than others. Someone who wouldn't oppose, who would care enough to be in hospitals and wait for a life or death sentence.

TK pretended he had found that someone in Alex, blinding himself to any and every sign the Universe made sure to give him. He ignored the fights over the time he arrived home — even if they didn't even share one —, and the ones over how he was always too tired to go out with him. TK pretended not to see how Alex hated the interactions he had in the firehouse or the contact he had with his father — and, especially, he always found an excuse to excuse Alex's absence by his bedside at the hospital.

After so many times, it became easier to lie to himself. He would always believe Alex's words, and if not, he would just pretend to.

Pretending. That was it.

And after fooling himself so much over love and caring, it took TK a while, a few months, to get used to what he had found in Austin. In Carlos.

It began when he woke up from his coma after the gunshot, and his father told him that Carlos had spent most of his days after and before shifts beside TK, holding his hand and caressing his hair. Paul told him, too, that the cop had spent his two free days at the hospital as well, even if just sitting in the waiting room, waiting for something to happen.

It freaked him out a little — maybe a little too much. It had never happened before, with any of his boyfriends — and Carlos wasn't even his boyfriend. He was a friend, someone he could surely lean on, but he didn't have to be there with him.

TK understood, now, that it was just who Carlos is. Someone who cares, waits and chooses to have a conversation instead of ghosting someone or storming out on them. Someone who doesn't mind the bad days and understands them — he was a first-responder, too, after all — and always had a kind word to offer.

Someone TK knew he would eventually fall in love with.

And, honestly, he blamed his heart for being a sucker for deep, brown eyes and a smile that could make a butterfly appear out of nowhere in anyone's stomach. On it, and on Carlos' impressive morning disposition on free days — because, for God's sake, how?

TK was used to wake up alone, Carlos never being in bed with him when his biological clock decided he hadn't had enough rest, but he had a life to live. From the first days he had woken up on Carlos' sheets to the ones in which he was tangled in theirs, TK knew he would rarely find his boyfriend asleep beside him.

It was different than it was with Alex, though. He would wake up alone and feel as such, his heart sinking with regret and a feeling that he was only being used — a feeling that he, too, learned to ignore. With Alex, it was a reflex of the emptiness of their relationship, while with Carlos, it was just... Who he was, and he didn't need a visual guarantee that he would walk through the door at any moment.

And it was endearing how the cop would always make them some breakfast or go out for a run, coming back with a different flower every time and offering it to TK. But there was nothing that could beat the days in which Carlos was peacefully asleep, breathing smoothly and smashing his face on his pillows.

TK would stare at him with the most lovestruck look on his face and trace each one of his edges with his fingers. Then, Carlos would wrinkle his nose and wake up slowly, sometimes hiding his face on the pillows and sometimes smiling lazily at his boyfriend.

TK would fall in love every time.

But that wasn't one of those blissful, sweet mornings.

TK could feel the rays of sunshine against his naked skin, the blankets covering only down his waist as he laid on his stomach. The warm Texan breezing over his body denoted how Carlos was already up, for his body wasn't covering his side as it usually was when they fell asleep like that. He groaned, tapping the mattress in a vain search for the warm body that should still be against his, and then let out a disappointed breath. TK rolled over, the covers tangling around his waist and his position diagonal on the bed, his head sinking between his and Carlos' pillows. He took in a deep breath, inhaling Carlos' scent and the morning air that came through the window, and listened to the sounds around the house.

TK had his eyes closed when he heard the bedroom door open again, footsteps approaching the bed, and then the mattress deepening. He knew Carlos was putting his socks on and enjoying the time to look a little bit more at his frame over the bed, but TK didn't move a muscle about it.

When Carlos got up again, and TK could picture him opening the wardrobe to take his bag and gun, he opened one of his eyes to spy on the frame of his boyfriend. He had his uniform on, his curls a bit loose — looking even more beautiful than the day before — and his lips pressed together, something he always did when trying to be silent as if a breath could bother TK enough to wake him up.

TK could only think that each of Carlos' breaths was the lullaby he needed to fall asleep.

The paramedic inhaled deeply, opening his mouth to speak up, his voice hoarse and low but loud enough to be the only thing echoing in the room.

"Being a morning person does make you weird, but it does not give you the right to leave without kissing me," he said, and Carlos, who was concentrated on checking his bag, snapped his head in TK's direction.

Then, his earnest, frowned face melted in a smile that caused TK's stomach to twist in loops and his own eyes to open up slowly. Carlos' muscles seemed to relax, as well, and TK couldn't measure just how much it meant for him the comfort and the trust the two of them shared.

The cop approached the bed, bending down and scooting over TK's body enough for their noses to touch, but his arms holding him up enough so his uniform wouldn't brush the sheets or TK's body. Although it was perfectly cleaned, Carlos had a strange policy over it.

TK waited until Carlos pressed his lips against his, closing his eyes and sinking to the feeling until it lasted too short when Carlos leaned back.

"I wasn't going to," he said, and TK pulled him into another kiss, his hand going to the man's nape and caressing his neck carefully. Carlos smiled briefly, and TK whined when they lost contact again.

"Do you really have to go?" TK asked, looking at Carlos' face and then caressing his cheek with his thumb. Carlos gave him a caring, loving smile, and his hand brushed over the paramedic's waist.

"I'll be covering Collins for just eight hours, babe," Carlos said, his voice low and careful. "Then I'll be back, and we can cuddle for the whole day," he suggested, a smile brightly lighting his face.

TK smiled back and closed his eyes for a second.

"Promise?" he asked, and Carlos nodded, placing a kiss on each of TK's cheek, his chin, and nose, making him laugh. "Hmm... I love these kisses," TK grumbled, and Carlos offered one more over his lips.

"Don't I know it?" the cop asked sweetly, stretching his arm to take another of the covers and put it over TK, who basically purred with the caring act. "Your shift was long. Go back to sleep," Carlos suggest, and TK couldn't agree more than sinking himself on the pillows. "I'll be back soon."

"Okay," TK replied, sighing when his boyfriend pressed a new kiss to his collarbone, over what he knew it was an old scar. "Tell Collins he owes a whole weekend to the both of us," TK said, too, and Carlos laughed again.

"I'm pretty sure he knows, cariño," Carlos said, this time pressing a kiss to TK's forehead and watching while a sleepy, lovestruck smile spread across his face. "Sweet dreams, sweetheart."

And TK would've answered if Carlos' touch hadn't sent him to sleep like a sweet, divine lullaby he had only for himself. Carlos didn't need the answer, though, brightly smiling as he left their bedroom with a light heart and the sweet taste of TK's skin on his lips.

That was another morning worth it waking up for.

[terramous]

i'm in over my head

an incredibly belated birthday present for my love @silvarafael !! thank u jamie i love you so so so much and i'm so grateful to be your friend!! title from: the palace - father john misty word count: 9.6k beta'd by: @marjansmarwani bthb - seizures warnings: vomiting AO3

“Here’s your uniform. It’s ready to go when you are,” Carlos declared as he wandered back into the bedroom. He had a soft smile on his face as he set the folded uniform down on the corner of the bed.

“Thanks, babe,” TK said as he dragged a hand down his face. It took him a little longer to gather up the energy he needed than usual. It was probably courtesy of the month he’d spent on medical leave while recovering from his concussion. He wasn’t used to surfacing before noon anymore, aside from when Carlos would press a kiss to his forehead before leaving for his morning shifts.

In reality, he was excited to get back to work after so much time spent at home recovering. He had been going stir-crazy since he was well enough to get down Carlos’ stairs by himself and it’d been three weeks since then. As much as he liked spending all of Carlos’ time off curled up together and without a shortage of affection, he was going to lose his mind if he spent any more time cooped up.

Carlos stepped closer to TK and brought a hand up to cup his boyfriend’s jaw as he connected their lips in a soft kiss. “How’re you feeling?”

“Pretty good.”

Being met with worried brown eyes pulling apart every detail of his demeanour was something TK had come to expect in his daily life and those looks had only become more frequent over the past month.

“Are you sure? How’s your head?” Carlos asked, running his hand through TK’s hair until it came to rest on the back of his neck and he began running his thumb over TK’s skin. It had become a comforting gesture they often shared when TK was plagued by the most horrific headaches during his recovery. It never soothed the pain but it made him feel less alone.

He’d gotten used to the constant low-level pain behind his eyes, it was nothing to worry about at this point, so he omitted mentioning that to Carlos. It would only serve to make his boyfriend worry when he really didn’t need to.

TK was fine. He was on the road to fully recovering from his concussion, he was finally going to get his life back.

Even though he was only scheduled for a six-hour shift today. It was incredibly short, pitifully so, but he had to take it easy.

Carlos didn’t even have a shift today, he was just spending lunch with his family at his Tia Lucy’s and would be able to pick TK up the second he was done at the firestation. It wasn’t like he was immediately being thrown into the deep end with a 24-hour shift, Carlos really didn’t need to worry so much.

“You know I love this shirt on you,” TK said as he smoothed down Carlos’ collar and trailed his fingers down the seam along Carlos’ shoulder.

Carlos leant forward to share another kiss with TK. He spoke as they parted, “you love every shirt on me.”

“I also love every shirt off of you,” TK whispered, following the kiss as Carlos drew backwards.

“I know you do, but you have to get dressed.” Carlos stood up from the bed and intercepted TK’s needy grab to draw him back into the bed with a firm poke of TK’s nose. “You have work.”

“I could call in and say that my head hurts, then you could spend the day in bed with me. Your Tia Lucy loves me, she’ll forgive you.”

“No, she’ll forgive you. You’re her favourite,” Carlos clarified with an accusatory point in TK’s direction. “You also say that as if your father wouldn’t order a wellness check and call me every fifteen minutes to make sure you’re not dying.”

“Ugh. He’s the worst.”

“I know sweetheart,” Carlos said, giving TK another chaste kiss before he quickly snuck away. “I’m going to sort out some breakfast so you can get changed.”

“You’re the worst,” TK protested with a pout.

Carlos poked his head back through the door and shot TK a smile. “You love me anyway.”

TK tossed a pillow at Carlos but it collided with the doorframe as Carlos disappeared down the hallway. “That’s debatable!”

He watched as Carlos disappeared through the door and down the stairs before he took a deep breath and glanced at his waiting uniform. It was just clothing, it should feel like a big deal.

And yet it did.

Grabbing the folded shirt on the end of the bed and pulling it into his lap, TK couldn’t help the overwhelming feeling of anxiety in his chest as he ran his thumb over the patch with his name on the front.

This was his job, he loved it, he lived to help, but that didn’t keep him from feeling nervous about getting back in the game after a month. It didn’t help that his last shift ended with being held hostage on the wrong end of a gun and given a concussion.

He could do this. He just needed to be thrown back in the deep end.

Shrugging off one of Carlos’ old hoodies that he liked to sleep in, TK took a careful breath and mentally prepared himself for the shift ahead. He didn’t know why he was so nervous but something about the familiar weight of his uniform draped over his shoulders somehow made it feel more official.

The buttons seemed to be smaller and more stubborn than he remembered. He fumbled with them but just couldn’t seem to get his fingers to work properly. Never before had it been this difficult to dress himself. How many times had he done this exact thing without a second thought?

Tears of frustration welled up in his eyes. He just wanted things to go back to normal, but he couldn’t even put on his own shirt. Fuck.

He clutched at the material of his shirt, bunching the edges up in his trembling, useless hands as he stared down at the offending buttons through tearfilled eyes. He was so focused on the indignity and frustration of it all that he didn’t hear the footsteps outside the door until Carlos’s voice drifted in.

“Hey, food’s ready- what’s wrong?” Carlos asked. TK didn’t look up but Carlos’ hands were holding his in a matter of seconds.

“I can’t do it.”

Carlos squeezed TK’s hands softly in a way that was meant to be reassuring. “What can’t you do, sweetheart?”

“These stupid buttons!” TK huffed, unable to stop the fresh round of hot tears running down his face.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Carlos said, already moving to do up TK’s buttons in a matter of seconds. He smoothed down TK’s uniform, before carefully tilting his boyfriend’s head up to meet his gaze. “You know you don’t have to work today if you’re not ready. No one is going to judge you for taking a little more time off.”

“No offense, but if I’m stuck here for even one more day I am going to start climbing the walls.”

“None taken. Do you want something to eat?”

“Actually, can I just take it with me?”

Carlos’ eyebrows knit together at that as he eyed TK cautiously. He was clearly worried. “Sure. Are you nauseous? Do you want to take another day off?”

TK waved away his concern. “I’m fine. I just don’t want to be late.”

“Okay…” Carlos didn’t look convinced but he gave TK a quick kiss. It was just a second or two but it took all of TK’s strength to not seize Carlos by his collar and pull him down onto the bed.

Carlos knew this, of course, and smiled at TK before pulling away. “Finish getting dressed and we’ll get on our way soon. I’m sure you can manage that, but just call out if you need me.”

“I always need you.”

“You’re such a dork,” Carlos chuckled as he stepped out of their bedroom, blowing TK a kiss as he left.

TK lifted his hand to catch the kiss, gingerly curling his fingers into his palm. He turned back to his uniform and took a few seconds to let go of his anxiety. He could do this. The buttons were just a minor setback.

Truly, the buttons appeared to be the hardest thing. Not that TK was entirely sure why, but getting dressed the rest of the way proved itself to be a lot easier.

He’d even managed to brush his teeth and make his way halfway down the stairs before Carlos called out to him.

“Who’s this handsome paramedic in my house? I don’t remember calling 911.”

TK just rolled his eyes as he hopped down the rest of the staircase. As soon as his feet hit the floor he stood there with his arms open, giving Carlos a pointed look.

He tapped his foot impatiently as Carlos wandered over and wrapped his arms around TK’s waist, picking him up and walking towards the door.

“This is not what I had in mind!” TK grumbled until Carlos set him down. Slung over Carlos’ shoulder was TK’s duffle bag that plonked heavily on the ground at the same time as TK’s socked feet reconnected.

Before TK could say anything, Carlos was kneeling down and grabbing TK’s boots.

“I can put my own shoes on,” TK protested as Carlos manhandled his feet into the boots.

“You can’t even tie your laces properly, you still do the double-loop. It’ll go faster if I do it.”

TK knew it was a ploy to make sure he didn’t have to deal with the fiddly task of tying his laces. But he’d never tell Carlos that he had caught on.

I only took Carlos a few seconds before he was standing up again and pushing the front door open with a lovesick grin on his face. “You ready to go?”

“Definitely,” TK said with a nod.

TK froze as he stepped out of the front door. The sun was definitely brighter this morning than he was expecting, and a little more than his head was prepared for. But he could handle it.

“You good, babe?” Carlos asked. TK opened his eyes to see Carlos worriedly looking over the top of the car door instead of climbing into the driver’s seat. He really was going to worry about TK all day, wasn’t he?

TK nodded, “Yeah, I’m good.”

“You sure?”

Taking a deep breath, TK gave Carlos a smile. “It’ll be fine, Carlos.”

~

Walking into the firehouse felt like coming home after a long day. He wasn’t aware he could miss his workplace so much, at least until he spent a month basically confined to Carlos’ condo.

No one was around when TK wandered in, which he could probably chalk up to the missing ladder truck. That was until he spotted the one, the only, Nancy Gillian. She had her legs draped over the arm of the couch and her phone glued to her face, the blue light from the screen reflecting on her skin.

“He’s alive!” Nancy cheered as she looked up from her phone, all but throwing it aside as she kicked her legs up and in a few short strides, wrapped TK up in a bone-crushing hug.

This was definitely weird. TK had never even been hugged by Tommy, let alone the paramedic with whom he had not had the smoothest sailings with in terms of their relationship.

“I missed you, jerk.”

It took TK a few seconds before he was returning her embrace. “I missed you too.”

Almost instantly, Nancy let TK go and turned her back to him. “Did you hear that, Tommy? I told you I could get him to be sappy within five minutes!”

Tommy stepped into view and clicked the button on her stopwatch, making it beep. “2.38. That’s got to be a record.”

“I wasn’t aware there was a record. Or that you were both scheming against me on my first day back,” TK said, his gaze shifting between his fellow paramedics.

“C’mon, it was the perfect scheming opportunity. Marjan and Paul helped with the plan,” Nancy explained.

TK rolled his eyes. “Of course they did. I wouldn’t expect anything less from them.”

Nancy looked around before crossing her arms across her chest, looking somewhere between disappointed and bored. “They had hoped that they were gonna be here to witness it though.”

“Speaking of, why aren’t you guys on the call with them?”

“Medical wasn’t needed, so we’ve just been waiting for you to show up. They’ll be back soon, though,” Tommy said with a shrug.

“And Judd will probably never put you down again in your lifetime,” Nancy chipped in.

TK couldn’t help but to chuckle at the mental image of Judd carting him around for the rest of his life. He certainly wouldn’t put it past him.

Judd was, after all, always threatening to wrap TK up in bubble wrap or never let him do anything unsupervised ever again. TK definitely considered it to be an overreaction and a tad over-protective but everyone else seemed to disagree with him every time he brought it up.

He followed Nancy back to the couch where they both sat down and TK prepared for the onslaught of questions about his well being.

Nancy turned her calculating gaze on TK. “How’s your head?”

“Good.”

“Any dizziness?”

“Nope.”

“Sensitivity to light?”

“I told you, Nancy, I’m fine. Just happy to be back at work.”

“She’ll never admit it, but she missed you,” Tommy said.

“I did not,” Nancy hissed, shooting a glare in Tommy’s direction.

“She’s lying. We all missed you.”

TK turned to see Paul standing behind him. Paul smiled and ruffled TK’s hair. “How are you doing?”

“If one more person asks me that I’m going to smack them.”

“Don’t hit me,” Paul said, raising his hands with his palms towards TK in surrender.

“Give me one good reason,” TK said, raising his hand in an empty threat.

Paul eyed him carefully. “You need someone to protect you from Judd when he realises that you’re here.”

“True,” TK said, lowering his hand so that it rested in his lap. Judd’s big brother role that he had adopted was definitely a lot to deal with at times, but TK enjoyed the affection.

“Strand!” Judd’s distinct voice called, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps.

Paul mouthed him a quick ‘good luck’ before TK was wrapped up in a tight embrace.

Pitifully trying to shove away Judd’s arms, TK struggled to wriggle out of his hold. “I need to breathe, Judd.”

~

As soon as his boots hit the ground, TK rolled his shoulders back and shook out his arms as he bounced on his feet. It was good to be back.

It’d been a good day, mostly minor calls so far, a fainting, a typical rest home visit, and a compound fracture from an unfortunate shortcut down two flights of stairs. But this was exciting, he was back in the heat of it now.

“Look less excited to be at a car accident, Strand,” Nancy scolded as she jabbed her elbow into TK’s ribs.

“It’s not my fault. I’ve been on house arrest for a month, I’ve missed this.”

“And we’ve missed you, but make sure to listen to your body and not push your limits today. You’re supposed to be being eased back into this,” Tommy said carefully as she placed her hands on TK’s shoulders to hold him still.

TK nodded. “Got it. Take it easy, tap out if there’s any issues. I got it.”

Tommy offered him a satisfied smile before she turned to the scene. “Alright, TK, you take the kid that got flung, Nancy and I will check on the driver.”

“On it, Cap,” TK said with a sharp nod, adjusting the strap of his medical bag on his shoulder.

He could do this, he could see the kid sprawled on the road with a few firefighters by his side. This was straightforward, just TK and no hassle of waiting for the team to free his patient.

It was simple, something he couldn’t mess up on his first day back. He knew that this was Tommy’s way of including him without potentially jeopardizing anything.

“What have we got here?” TK asked as he knelt down on the opposite side of the patient, meeting Paul’s gaze briefly.

“Kid got thrown, don’t think he lost consciousness but he doesn’t seem to be in a chatty mood,” Paul offered.

“That’s alright, I got it from here. Why don’t you go do firefighter-y things?”

“Ooh, he’s a paramedic and now he’s too good for us firefighters,” Paul mocked as he gave TK’s shoulder a firm shove.

“Blah, blah, blah. Screw you, Strickland.”

“Let me know when you’re free!” Paul called with his hands cupped around his mouth as he jogged backwards towards the rest of the team.

TK couldn’t help the smile on his face as he shook his head. It was good to be back. He’d certainly missed everyone more than he cared to admit. He turned his attention back to his patient. As far as TK could tell, Paul had gotten as far as a cervical collar and not much else.

“Hey, I’m TK. I’m a paramedic. Can you tell me your name?”

“Andy,” the kid groaned, his face scrunched up in what TK assumed was pain. There was road rash visible on Andy’s face, blood from his nose and a laceration on his forehead sticking his long black hair to his skin.

“Hi Andy. I’m going to help you as best I can. Can you tell me what happened?”

“I’m-” Andy paused, seeming to need a moment to think about it. “I’m not sure.”

TK tensed for a moment before shaking out any visual reaction to the information he was gathering. He had to be professional, and being professional meant keeping his patient calm at all costs. “That’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

“Do you know if you lost consciousness at any point?”

“I don’t think so?”

TK pulled the edge of his bottom lip between his teeth, gnawing on it to ease his nerves. This wasn’t good. “Do you know where you are?”

“The middle of the road.” Well, he wasn’t wrong.

“Do you know what day it is?”

“Tuesday?”

TK shook his head. “It’s Saturday.”

“Nice.” Andy cracked a small smile. “I love the weekend.”

TK fished his penlight out of his pocket and turned it on in one fluid motion. It was muscle memory, but it felt good to be back. He ran it over Andy’s eyes, his mind whirling as he processed what he was seeing.

Tensing up a little as he realised the severity of the seemingly insignificant head wound. “Pupils are irregular and response is delayed.”

“That’s bad isn’t it?” Andy asked, his voice climbing in pitch with what was undoubtedly fear. It was always fear.

“Don’t worry about that right now.” TK clicked off the light and held his penlight parallel with Andy’s face. “Can you follow my light?”

He watched Andy’s eyes trailing the sideways movement of the light carefully.

Clicking his tongue, TK slipped the penlight back into his pocket. “I can’t make a diagnosis here but you might have a concussion.”

“How bad is that?”

“Oh, it’s not gonna be pleasant. I just spent a month on medical leave for a concussion of my own. Wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.”

“Ouch?”

TK nodded, suppressing a grimace as he tried to ignore the stabbing pain making itself known behind his right eye. Now really wasn’t the best time for a headache. “Ouch.”

“I’m going to slide my hands under you to check for any bleeding that I can’t see. Is that okay with you?”

Andy nodded slightly, his movement restricted by the collar. Clearly his probable concussion protested the attempted motion as Andy quickly let out a groan, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Yeah, that won’t be a good idea for a while,” TK hummed as he began sliding his gloved hands under Andy, watching carefully for the familiar smear of red that would let him figure out why Andy was getting so pale.

But there was no blood.

In any other instance, TK would be relieved to find no evidence of bleeding, but with the growing lack of colour in Andy’s skin and the way that TK confirmed with a single touch that his skin was also colder than it should be, there was no relief from the lack of a visible bleed. It was almost definitely internal and there wasn’t a lot that TK could do about that.

Sucking his teeth, TK mentally ran over his course of action. It didn’t involve a lot of steps so he could handle it on his own. There was no need to bring in the cavalry.

“Okay, I’m going to give you an IV,” TK said as he dug around in his med kit. “It won’t solve anything but it’ll make you feel a whole of a lot better.”

“That sounds good.”

TK had the bag of saline, the needle—he even triple-checked the gauge—, the catheter and a few alcohol pads laid out before him. This was an IV, he’d done it a million times, he could do it in his sleep.

That was until he tried to open the alcohol pad and couldn’t seem to get his fingers to cooperate. It was the button fiasco all over again. TK was starting to get really sick of this.

Brushing it off and deciding to blame the alcohol pad as faulty, TK quickly tried another. And another. And another.

The alcohol pads weren’t faulty, he was.

Taking a breath as he closed his eyes, TK willed his hands to stop shaking. This wasn’t the end of the world, he could handle it.

“Hey, Gillian, can you give me a hand?” TK called over his shoulder and tried to ignore how unsure his voice sounded.

“Sure!” She called back. It was only a few seconds before Nancy was kneeling on the other side of Andy, her own med kit with her. “What do you need?”

With a careful inhale, TK asked the question he knew was only going to raise a million more. “Can you run a line for me?”

Nancy looked like she wanted to ask, but she stayed silent and set up the IV with quick ease.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Nancy said. TK could tell that she was trying to seem casual, but her voice was firm. This was going to find it’s way back to Tommy and she was going to bench him. So much for a good first say back. “I’m gonna go see if there’s an available gurney.”

“That'd be great, thanks Nancy,” TK said with an uneasy smile. He was grateful but he knew that once this interaction was over, he was going to be benched. Carlos would be called to come and pick him up from the station and he’d be back on medical leave for the foreseeable future.

Nancy left and TK turned back to Andy who was eyeing him curiously, his brown eyes seeming to trail after TK’s every movement.

“Are you alright?” TK asked, scanning Andy for any sign of an injury that he may have missed.

“Did you know that you’re really pretty?”

TK froze for a second, he probably looked like he was buffering. Concussed teenagers are one thing. Apparently concussed teens flirting with him were the same thing. TK had to consciously remind himself to reply to Andy instead of just kneeling there looking like a stunned mullet. “It has been said.”

“No, I mean like, so pretty.”

TK rocked back on his heels slightly, lifting his head to look in the direction of the rest of the crew. Silently begging Nancy to return. “Andy, I’m flattered, but you’re like twelve.”

“I’m fifteen,” Andy said.

“I rest my case. You’re a minor and I already have a boyfriend.”

“It’s not my lucky day, I guess.”

TK could help a smile as he shook his head, ignoring the low-level pounding in his making itself known. “No. No, it is not.”

~

As soon as Andy was unloaded from the ambulance and Nancy and Tommy followed his gurney inside the hospital, TK climbed into the passenger’s seat of the ambulance to wait for them.

His body was so heavy, he really couldn’t fathom staying on his feet any longer. He wasn’t used to all this work. Maybe diving back into the deep end wasn’t the best plan.

If he was still a firefighter, he’d have been put on light duty. He’d be working reception, checking inventory or cleaning all day but he’d be doing something. Light duty wasn’t much of a function when he was a paramedic.

This was the closest he could get, he didn’t get to drive or work on anything that wasn’t minor. And still, he was feeling the toll.

Curling in on himself, TK massaged his temples. Of course his head had to hurt.

TK could feel the pressure in his head climbing. The little sharp pains morphed into a constant throbbing as it got harder and harder to bear having his eyes open. It was only going to get worse from here.

But he just needed to hold it together for the rest of the day. Or until they could get back to the station.

If they got back he could sleep off the worst of it, or look pitiful enough for Tommy to send him home. He didn’t want to go home but he wanted to stop feeling like he couldn’t do his job.

He could hear the distinct sound of doors opening and closing as Tommy and Nancy returned but he didn’t look at them.

“Good work out there, team. It’s been too empty just as the two of us, it’s good to have you back, TK,” Tommy said as TK felt the ambulance start up with the familiar hum of the engine.

“It’s good to be back.”

Nancy had pulled out of the hospital and back onto the road by the time Tommy spoke again.

“Do you want to talk about the IV, TK?”

“Not really,” TK said. He knew what Tommy was going to say, he was bound to be benched.

“Just say the word and you can go home. No one is mad, or disappointed, or anything. If you need more time off, that’s okay.”

“No, no. I’m good.”

“The offer is always there if you feel the need to take it.”

TK let out a short laugh. It sounded kind of like he was being strangled. “I won’t, but okay.”

They lapsed into silence, the atmosphere suddenly having become so much more awkward.

After a few minutes and most of their journey back to the station the pressure in TK’s head decided to spike and suddenly everything was making a fresh wave of pain hit him.

Groaning softy, TK pinched the bridge of his nose and scrunched his eyes shut to block out the light. He really needed the throbbing in his head to ease up or at least not get worse before they got back to the station and he could down a few advil to take the edge off.

Over his recovery period he had gotten used to the pattern of his migraines, the way the pain would linger for an hour or two and steadily get worse until it skyrocketed and Carlos had to hold him while he sobbed and tried to ride out the pain. By that point there wasn’t much either of them could do except to make their way up to the bedroom and hope that TK could sleep it off.

He couldn’t begin to even imagine how many hours Carlos had spent sitting on the bed next to him in the dark, rubbing his hand soothingly across TK’s back, silently begging for the pain to stop. TK knew how much it killed Carlos to see him hurting, as well as how he’d kept quiet about it but he could never really hide these things from his boyfriend. Carlos’ eyes were so full of emotion, they were a dead giveaway every time.

It’d been almost a week and a half since he’d had a migraine, his neurologist even said it was a good indicator that he was on the tail end of his recovery. However, in usual TK Strand style, good things never lasted.

As he opened his eyes, TK had to suppress his urge to curse. Everything was like he was looking through an out of focus camera, the haziness only slight in the centre of his vision but his peripheral vision was barely decipherable.

The taillights of the car in front of them seemed to pulse in time with his heartbeat and the midday sun was making the simple act of keeping his eyes open borderline-unbearable as pain laced its way through his skull.

This was bad.

He closed his eyes and leant his head back until it collided softly with the seat. At least he was expecting the dizziness and nausea as they washed over him.

“You alright, Strand?” Nancy asked, undoubtedly having given him a quick once-over when he got quiet.

TK nodded, biting his tongue as he felt like he was going to regret having lunch. He tried to laugh it off, but the sound came out very weak and not at all as casual as he had hoped. “Yeah, just tired. I’m not used to being awake for so long without taking a nap.”

“Feel free to lie down for a bit when we get back to the station. I don’t want you overdoing it, you hear me?” Tommy chimed from her seat in the back.

“I’ll be fine, Cap. Just need to readjust to working life.”

TK could hear Tommy shift in her seat, probably so she was sure that he was listening to her. “You sustained a traumatic brain injury after getting kidnapped on the job, I think you’re entitled to as many naps on the clock as you can take.”

“I’ll be fine. I just want you to treat me like you would any other day. You guys got kidnapped too, I don’t need any special treatment.”

“You’re not special, we just don’t want to waste half an hour giving you a ride up to the ER because you overdid it and didn’t tell anyone,” Nancy said.

“I wouldn’t do that,” TK objected, not even bothering to open his eyes and give Nancy a displeased look.

He didn’t even have the energy to roll his eyes as his coworkers laughed.

Tommy was the first to speak, “sure, kid. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

The laughter dissolved after a short while, Nancy and Tommy making amicable conversation as TK tried to hold himself together around every turn and slightly too-abrupt brake.

Eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore. It seemed like the fire station was further away than it had ever been before, he wasn’t going to make it until then.

Taking a deep breath, in through his nose and out through his mouth, he couldn’t quell the nausea.

“Nancy, pull over,” he groaned.

“What?”

“Pull over.”

“I’m not going to pull over, TK. We’re almost at the station.”

“Nancy Gillian, I swear to god, pull this ambulance over.”

Nancy gave in, probably noticing the serious edge to TK’s voice or probably the fact that he had undoubtedly gone very pale in the passenger’s seat. “Okay, okay. Pulling over now.”

TK couldn’t fly out the door any faster once the ambulance came to a halt. He knew that Nancy and Tommy had a million questions that he wasn’t answering, but he was too preoccupied sinking to his knees and throwing up in the gutter.

This wasn’t going to go down in history as one of TK Strand’s finest moments, that’s for sure.

He didn’t notice anything aside from the throbbing in his head and the sting of bile in his throat until there was a hand rubbing his back. It was Nancy, he knew that without her even saying anything. Her cherry scented shampoo, although usually pleasant, made his stomach twist.

“‘M sorry,” TK whined as he took a moment to catch his breath before the nausea came back with a vengeance and he was once again emptying his guts.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I don’t feel good.”

“No, I bet you don’t.” That was Tommy. She had a very soothing energy that would usually make him feel better but he was too preoccupied retching and only now noticing how much he was shaking.

“I’m-” TK drew in a trembling breath. “I’m fine.”

“Sure you are.”

“It’s just,” TK waved a hand in the vague direction of his head, “concussion.”

Tommy was running her hand through his hair now, like his mother always used to do when he was sick as a kid, it was a very comforting gesture. He was going to die with the secret that her comfort made him want to cry, ignoring the fact that he definitely already wanted to cry. “Yeah, I think you’re gonna need some more time off.”

“No.”

He could almost hear Nancy rolling her eyes. “Yeah, Bud, I don’t think you have a choice in the matter.”

“If this stays between us I don’t have to go back on medical leave.”

Nancy scoffed. “This can stay between us if you can stand up and walk back to the ambulance on your own.”

“That’s easy. I can do that.”

“Go for gold, kid,” Tommy said as she retracted her steadying hold on him. TK didn’t quite realise how little of a part he was playing in keeping himself upright until that moment.

Steeling himself with a deep breath and wiping his sweaty palms on his pants, TK rocked back onto his heels, ready to push himself onto his feet.

And careened backwards almost instantly, a head rush rolling over him.

TK would never be able to express his gratitude for Tommy and Nancy catching him in that moment. He leant heavily on Tommy as he closed his eyes willing everything to stop spinning. The earth wasn’t supposed to tilt like this.

Nancy gave TK a gentle pat on his back. “Yeah, you’re going back on medical leave.”

She was just met with a groan, TK couldn’t find the energy to argue, and he was almost certain that if he opened his mouth he’d be sick again.

“Do you want to ride in the gurney back to the station?” Tommy asked softly, brushing his sweaty hair away from where it clung to his forehead.

“Please, no,” he whimpered, resting his head fully on Tommy’s shoulder. He was never going to live this down.

~

“Hey, champ. Just sit tight and we’ll give you a hand.”

TK waved her off. “No- No, I’m good.”

Ignoring how much he fumbled, TK eventually managed to wrestle his way out of his seatbelt and opened the door. He ended up bracing himself almost entirely on the doorframe as he struggled to his feet and tried to step down.

His foot missed its purchase and he was falling for a moment or two, his brain didn’t even realise it was happening until Tommy and Nancy appeared seemingly out of nowhere to catch him.

“Easy there,” Tommy said as TK relinquished his part in holding himself up. His legs felt like the bones had been stripped from them at this point, he had no hope of bearing his own weight.

TK couldn’t help the whine he let out at the sound of Judd’s voice. “Whoa, what happened?”

“Can you guys help get him to the couch?” Tommy asked, dodging the question as she slung one of TK’s arms over her shoulders.

Judd’s arm looped around TK’s torso should have made him feel better and more supporter but he could only let out a pitiful groan as every slight shift made the room spin.

“Don’t worry, we gotcha.”

“I don’t,” TK grumbled as he let himself be dragged around until he was settled down onto something soft. He knew that it was a long enough walk from the ambulance bay to the common area or the bunk room for TK to know they had definitely gained the attention of most of the firehouse at this point.

“You’re looking very green, kid.”

As much as TK appreciated Judd’s concern and assistance getting to wherever he was currently situated - he couldn’t find the will to open his eyes to the bright lights of the station - but the signature deep Southern drawl was grating against his eardrums.

“He looked greener when he abandoned his guts in the middle of the street,” Nancy chimed. It was a very snarky statement but her words had no bite. TK imagined that this was probably how she had spoken to him on the night of the kidnapping when he was freshly concussed. He honestly couldn’t recall anything more than a few flashes from that night.

“He’s shakin’ like a leaf.”

“Yeah.” That was Paul’s voice now, coming from somewhere behind or to the side of TK. He wasn’t entirely sure anymore. “Shouldn’t he go to the hospital? This doesn’t look good at all.”

TK could almost see Tommy shrug. “If he doesn’t improve with some rest, or gets worse, there’s a ride to the ER with his name on it.”

“No,” TK groaned. “No hospitals.”

“Bud, I love ya, but this looks pretty bad.”

The voices were beginning to get harder to tell apart, everyone’s words blending together into one big indecipherable mess by the time they reached TK’s ears but he knew that was Judd.

TK stiffened as his stomach lurched. He opened his mouth to speak but a small trash can was swiftly shoved into his arms just in time for him to throw up yet again. He whimpered between heaves of what was just bile at this point, his insides cramping painfully.

“Carlos is on his way.”

Was everyone here? TK assumed his dad would be there considering he was puking his guts out on his first day back, but there were already too many other people seeing him in his current state. The idea of Carlos coming, however, made TK feel a lot better.

He’d probably feel bad about interrupting Carlos’ time with his family later but right now, all TK cared about was having Carlos next to him again.

He didn’t even realise he was crying until someone was wiping his tears away. It was that gesture that prompted TK to open his eyes. To near-complete darkness.

It only took him a few seconds to piece together that he was in the bunk room surrounded by his colleagues while he held onto a rubbish bin with a white-knuckle grip. As if on cue, he folded over the edge of the bin again and retched while someone continued rubbing his back.

The hand was definitely bigger than Tommy or Nancy’s, so maybe it was Judd? Or Paul? TK didn’t particularly care at this point. He was just glad that he wasn’t alone.

Every time he managed to lift his head for more than a minute at a time, Tommy was right there with a glass of water, trying to coerce him into drinking some of it.

“You need to drink something,” Tommy said firmly as she once again put the glass in his face.

Even the idea of drinking water made TK’s insides twist, he didn’t particularly feel like throwing up cold water anytime soon. “No thanks.”

“I wasn’t asking. You’re going to drink this water or you’re going to get an IV.”

“An IV sounds great.”

“Drink the water, TK.”

He didn’t have the energy to fight her so he slowly sipped the water while Tommy held the edge of the glass to his lips.

The feeling of cold water on his irritated throat was better than he’d ever admit, but he only got a few seconds of relief before he pushed the glass away and the water came back up.

“Yeah, this has ‘hospital’ written all over it,” Tommy said.

“No hospital,” TK groaned, trying to glare at Tommy through the tears gathered in his eyes. “Need Carlos.”

“I’m here.” There were hurried footsteps and a familiar presence slotting in next to TK as arms wrapped around him. TK could cry. He buried his face in Carlos’ shoulder while Carlos ran his hand between TK’s shoulder blades. “I’m here, baby.”

TK couldn’t help the fresh wave of tears that soaked into Carlos’ shirt. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too. How are you feeling?”

“Bad. Awful. I left the thesaurus at home.”

“You’re doing great.”

“Sorry for ruining lunch,” TK mumbled into Carlos’ shoulder, his voice muffled by the fabric.

Carlos brought a hand up to play with TK’s hair at that. “Shh, no. You didn’t ruin anything. We’re all just very worried about you and want you to feel better.”

“I wanna feel better.”

“I know, baby.”

“Sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologise for. Everyone understands,” Carlos said as he pressed a kiss to the top of TK’s head. “Are you going to let Tommy take you to the hospital now?”

TK just whined and clung tighter to Carlos. He didn’t want to let go.

“I’m not gonna leave. I’m going to be right next to you the entire time,” Carlos promised, pressing a few more soft kisses to TK’s hair.

“Is that my cue to get the gurney?”

TK wasn’t entirely sure who spoke but he just sighed and nodded into Carlos’ shirt.

“Yeah, that’d be great.” TK could only imagine the smile Carlos was giving, he could hear it in his boyfriend’s voice.

Being with Carlos brought him comfort and he was so exhausted from the toll this episode had taken on his body that he was content to just rest his entire weight against Carlos.

Carlos accepted his presence entirely. He ran his palm along TK’s spine in a comforting gesture. TK could almost fall asleep there if he didn’t feel so awful.

He had no idea how much time had elapsed by the time something changed. Everyone was pretty silent for the most part, aside from the occasional clicking of the door opening and closing as people came and went.

And then he felt the shift. Like a tectonic plate moving underfoot, the exhaustion morphed into a sensation he was all too familiar with.

Panic.

Something bad was about to happen.

TK rested his palm on his chest, right over where he could feel his heart racing as it got harder to draw in a deep breath. That wasn’t a usual symptom when his head was acting up. “Ooh, I feel weird.”

Carlos stiffened under him at that. “What do you mean?”

He looked over at where Marjan and Paul were pretending not to be looking over at him every few seconds, only to realise he couldn’t really see them all that clearly. “I kinda feel like I’m about to have a panic attack, but my vision is going weird. That doesn’t usually happen.

“Are you okay? Do I need to get Captain Vega?”

“I think-” TK’s sentence was cut off as he paused to take a breath, willing away the dizziness that had made a spectacular comeback. “I need to lie down.”

“Alright, okay,” Carlo said, helping to ease TK down until he was lying on his side and Carlos could run a hand through his hair. “Just hang tight and we’ll see what Captain Vega says, okay?” Carlos asked in a soft voice, running his hand through TK’s hair.

TK nodded, “Okay.”

As quickly as things had gotten weird, they got weirder. There was another wave of dizziness and a weird taste in his mouth as his body seemed to have a mind of its own. There were a couple involuntary jerks of his hands and legs, as much as TK tried to hold his limbs still it just seemed to get worse.

“Tommy!” Carlos called, his voice cracking.

“Go get Tommy,” someone said before there was another set of hands touching him and the sound of panicked footsteps moving further away. When they spoke again TK could identify the voice as being his father’s. “TK? TK, can you hear me?”

TK wanted to nod, to confirm that he could hear them, that he didn’t know what was happening.

He was scared.

TK could feel himself slipping as the jerking got worse. He wanted to tell Carlos not to worry but he wasn’t in control anymore. His jaw clenched firm as his head jolted back a few times. He was shaking now, like he’d been electrocuted, and Carlos was looking more and more scared with each passing second.

“Shit.” Tommy’s voice reached his ears ripe with alarm as TK felt even more hands on him. “He’s seizing!”

And TK slipped.

The darkness was only brief, in what seemed like just a few moments he was blinking up at Carlos again. As if he’d fallen asleep for a minute or two.

“Hey there,” Carlos said with a soft smile. Looking up at his boyfriend, TK could clearly see the tears gathered in Carlos’ wide, worried eyes.

“Hi,” TK breathed as he pieced together all he could remember. There was a gap between lying down and talking to Carlos and waking up in the same place that he wasn’t entirely sure of. It was a void. All he knew was that his head definitely hurt more now, but everyone aside from Tommy and Carlos had cleared the room. “What happened?”

“You had a seizure.” That was definitely Tommy speaking, even though TK couldn’t see her. She was somewhere out of his line of sight and he was too preoccupied with studying Carlos’ worried expression to look away. It definitely made a lot more sense now why Carlos downright terrified.

It also made sense why no one else was around. Tommy would have known that he didn’t want anyone gawking at him when he came to. “Thanks.”

“For?” Tommy asked.

“Sending everyone out.”

“Don’t worry about it. I figured you didn’t need anyone other than me or your boy right now.” Tommy gave TK’s thigh a pat before leaving his side. “I’m going to go see if Nancy’s got the gurney sorted, okay?”

TK just hummed as Tommy walked away. He didn’t particularly care much about what was going on, he just reached out for Carlos until he could curl his finger around his boyfriend’s wrist.

“Are you okay?” he asked in a soft voice, not failing to notice the way Carlos jumped a little.

“What do you mean?” Carlos’ eyebrows knit together in confusion as he visibly tried to decode those three words, as if he was going to come up with a reason he could understand for why TK would ask him that. “I’m fine. I should be asking you that.”

“You’re scared, I can tell.”

“Of course I’m scared. You don’t have to worry about me, though.”

“I’m still going to worry, I care about you.”

“Care about yourself for once. You just had a seizure!” Carlos’ voice cracked on the last word as he covered his mouth with his free hand. He was crying. TK couldn’t see it but he knew. He could feel the way Carlos trembled and hear how his breaths were rough and staggered as he tried to swallow his sobs.

“I know. But I’m gonna go to the hospital and they’re gonna fix me up, you don’t have to worry. I don’t even feel that bad anymore, I’m just really tired and my head hurts. I just wanna make sure you’re okay, ‘Los.”

He heard Carlos take another deep, steadying breath before a familiar hand found its way into his hair. “TK-” he started, voice moderately steadier than before, but he was interrupted by the arrival of TK’s team and the gurney.

“Up you go, Strand,” Tommy instructed lightly as Carlos shifted gears, pulling the hand out of his hair and instead reaching around to help him up.

“I don’t need help,” TK objected as he slowly eased himself to his feet, bracing his entire weight on Carlos as his boyfriend helped to lift him.

“Yeah, you do. It’s okay,” Tommy said as she grabbed his legs and moved them so that they were on the gurney with him. “No one is mad at you.”

“I never said that.”

Carlos pressed a careful kiss to TK’s temple before brushing a hand through his boyfriend’s sweaty hair as he placed the other on TK’s side. “You were thinking it.”

“I’m getting déjà vu,” TK groaned. This situation of his worried boyfriend hovering over him while his head was unbearably painful was beginning to be a recurring event in his life.

“I think they call that nausea and dehydration,” Carlos offered, a small smile curling up the corner of his lips.

TK closed his eyes and sighed. “I hate you.”

“Why? I’m lovely.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” TK mumbled as he tried to suppress a groan at the jostling motion the gurney made as he was loaded into the ambulance. Carlos was quick to follow him though, eagerly scooping up TK’s hand in his own.

~

"I'm dying," TK grumbled, his face buried in his pillow. He’d been trying to fall asleep for the past however many hours he’d been cooped up in the ER. But everything was too bright, too loud, and his head hurt so badly. Every squeak of sneakers or beep from his IV pump seemed to serve only to exacerbate his pain. He was even cooped up under a spare blanket and Carlos’ jacket as his sweat was just making him colder in the frigid hospital air.

TK could tell by Carlos’ silence that he was trying to suppress a laugh before he said anything. "You're not dying, babe."

"If I'm not dying, why does my head hurt so bad?"

"Because you're an idiot who doesn’t tell anyone when he’s struggling."

TK just groaned in response. "I don't think this level of pain should be legal."

"Unfortunately, I don't think I can arrest your brain."

"Then what's the point of having a cop boyfriend?”

“I’m not sure. Personally, I choose to date endearing idiots who are determined to give me grey hair.”

TK just huffed and shot his boyfriend a glare. “You suck.”

“I know.”

Their banter dissolved into silence. TK knew Carlos was trying to stay as quiet as possible, that any sound would aggravate TK’s pain, and he was grateful for that.

"My head hurts," TK whimpered, reaching out clumsily until his fingers connected with Carlos' arm. His grip wasn't firm, but he pulled Carlos closer anyways, as if his boyfriend wasn't mere inches away at most times and always eager to be closer.

Carlos ran his fingers through TK's hair, carefully so as to not jostle his head. "I know sweetheart, I'm sorry."

In a flash, the nausea came rolling back with a vengeance and TK only had a few seconds to prop himself up on his elbows.

Carlos was quick to shove an emesis bag under TK’s face as he shuddered under the force of his body dry heaving until he had to taste his own bile for what seemed like the millionth time that day.

When TK finally rolled back onto the bed, panting from the toll the day had taken on his body, Carlos gagged. “That’s disgusting. You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Give me a break.” TK grumbled, rubbing his eye with the heel of his palm. He was exhausted and he just wanted everything to be over. “I’m in the hospital.”

“This chain of events was entirely your fault, you don’t get pity.”

“I deserve pity.”

“Maybe you do.”

“I want to take a shower, I’m all sweaty and gross.”

“You can when we get home.” Carlos said, taking TK’s hand in his own, careful not to mess with the IV as he pressed a few short kisses to TK’s knuckles. “Unfortunately that’s going to be a little while away. They’re probably going to want to do a bunch of scans.”

TK groaned, rolling towards Carlos until his face was buried in the thin hospital pillow. “I hate scans.”

“I know, baby.” Carlos tapped his fingers on the railing of the bed a few times before he spoke again. “You know they’re necessary though.”

“I don’t care. They suck.”

“Just try and get some sleep, okay? I’ll wake you up when the doctor gets here.”

TK went to nod but thought better of it. Instead he sighed and sank further into the pillow, “I’m sorry.”

Though TK couldn’t see him he could practically hear the frown in Carlos’s voice. “Sorry?” he asked, “For what?”

“For worrying you,” TK started, “for not being able to make it through a day at work. For not being able to do anything. For being useless.”

“Hey,” Carlos responded firmly, “You are not useless. You are hurt and still recovering. None of this is your fault TK, none of it.”

“Still,” TK pressed on, “you shouldn’t have to deal with this.”

“And niether should you, but here we are. We’re in this together babe, no matter what.”

TK lifted his head off of the pillow to look at Carlos who was giving him a soft smile. He looked so hopeful TK could hardly stand it, but he appreciated it all the same. “I think I love you,” he said wearily before plopping his head back into the pillow, the sounds of Carlos’s fond chuckle chasing him.

“Well I know I love you,” Carlos assured him, rubbing a comforting hand down his back. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

~

The resident tapped the end of his pen on his clipboard before looking back up at TK. "This could just be post-concussion syndrome but I'm going to page your neurologist given your medical history to see how she thinks your treatment should go."

Carlos looked confused as he turned to the doctor. "What would his medical history have to do with it?"

TK sighed. He’d had this conversation with his neurologist a month ago. The risk of this concussion exacerbating any symptoms from previous injuries that could have had an affect on his brain. "Overdoses. Getting shot. They're worried about permanent brain damage."

“That sounds serious. Why haven’t you brought that up before?”

TK shrugged. “I thought we’d cross that bridge if and when we got to it. No use worrying you about something that no one can control.”

“I’m going to order a CT scan and see whether or not your neurologist wants more tests when she gets here,” the doctor explained before heading back into the main body of the ER.

One CT scan became an MRI, and many more tests and scans. After many hours it was determined that no, TK’s condition hadn’t worsened. It just hadn’t gotten better.

His neurologist had determined that it was likely post-concussion syndrome and discharged him with a few referrals and a prescription for a bunch of new medication that would hopefully ease his symptoms.

Carlos offered him a soft and reassuring smile as he pulled a hoodie over TK’s head.

TK didn’t even bother to put his arms in the sleeves as he gave Carlos a pout. “I want to go home.”

~

TK was used to Carlos’ sixth sense at this point. He should have expected that Carlos would hear him sniffle from all the way downstairs and race up to check on him.

Before TK could even get his thoughts in order, his face was sandwiched between Carlos’ hands as thumbs wiped the tears from his cheeks. He loved Carlos’ eyes, he loved getting lost in their depth, but he didn’t love the way they only ever seemed to look at him with worry nowadays.

“What’s wrong? What hurts?” Carlos asked in a soft voice. He was worried. He always was.

TK closed his eyes and let a few more tears slip free as he drew in a shaky breath. “My head.”

“Get back in bed, sweetheart.”

“No.”

“No?”

“I can’t do this anymore.”

“Do what, TK?”

“This,” TK said, gesturing towards his head. “It’s been five months and it’s not getting any better. I’m sick of being in pain all the time, I’m sick of not being able to work, I’m sick of being a burden on you.”

“Hey,” Carlos breathed, tilting TK’s head up so they were looking at each other. “You’re not a burden. You’re never a burden.”

“I keep making you cancel plans to take care of me. We don’t do anything anymore, you just look at me like I’m going to fall apart if there’s a loud noise or if i go from a dark room into a bright one. Just because my life is ruined, it doesn’t mean that yours has to be too.”

“I’m sorry that I’ve made you feel like this, but I promise you that I’m never going to want to be anywhere as much as I always want to be by your side. I love you, TK. I don’t care how long this recovery process takes, I’m not going to love you any less.”

“Maybe you should.”

“Never,” Carlos said firmly. “I’m always going to be here to love you. I’m gonna go downstairs and bring up your meds and something to eat, then we can spend the day in bed and try the date tomorrow if you’re up to it.”

TK nodded. “Tomorrow.”

Carlos pressed a kiss to TK’s temple before disappearing back downstairs.

When he returned, Carlos handed TK a handful of assorted pills and a smoothie before sliding under the covers and wrapping his arm around TK’s waist.

“You know I love you, right?”

“I know.”

“You mean the world to me and I’ll never let you forget that.”

[ad1thi]

begin again

for @rhodeslabs‘ prompt: "OK I HAD AN IDEA A FEW DAYS AGO FOR SAMTONY THAT I THOUGHT YOU'D LOVE. Ok so teacher!Sam with single parent!Tony AU where Sam is the best teacher for Tony kid of your choice :)". major shout-out to @omg-just-peachy for the beta and @warmachinesocks for sensitivity reading!!

i’m super proud of this fic, i put a lot into it, so please consider reblogging, and leaving a comment if you liked it!!

//

There isn’t a specific rule against having opinions on your kid’s parents, but Sam knows that it’s not the done thing.

As a teacher, he may know a lot about his kids, but he learns next to nothing about the people raising them. He doesn’t know their work schedules, or what goes on in their private lives, hell - sometimes he doesn’t even know their names until he meets them at a PTA meeting. It’s bad form to judge people you don’t know, and it’s even worse to judge them through the very biased lens of their kids.

There’s exceptions of course, like the kinds of folks who leave bruises on their kids - but for the most part, passing judgement on parents isn’t standard procedure.

That doesn’t stop Sam from fiercely hating Lila Rhodes’ old man with every fiber of his being.

//

Sam never imagined himself as an elementary school teacher.

His father was Air Force right up until the day he died, just like his father before him, and there was never any question about whether Sam would follow in the family tradition. He enlisted right before college, because if he was going to give away the rest of his life to the military, the least they could do is pay for the next four years of his life. He picks an English degree, because it’s easy enough that he’ll actually be able to enjoy college and not find himself holed up in a library - but not too obscure that he can’t do anything with it after.

Not that Sam ever plans on using his degree, but his Ma mentioned that it was good to have a back-up plan. Just in case.

He graduates Summa Cum Laude on a Friday morning, and catches the evening train to Texas for Basic Military Training. There’s no break, no pause, no hesitation about who he’s going to be or what he’s going to do. He has his orders by the end of the year, and only has time to make a quick phone call to his sister to let her know where he’s gonna go and make her promise that she’ll tell the family before he’s on the first flight out.

In truth, Sam enlisted because it was the thing to do. There was never a time in his life when he considered another path, when he was allowed to consider another path. But now that he’s here, he finds that he loves it. All that bullshit they say about the military giving you a sense of purpose? It’s true.

Still, there’s an itch under his skin, something that keeps tugging at him that’s telling him he can do more, be more - so when it trickles down the pipeline that the Brass is looking for two flyboys to test out the experimental EXO flight-suits, Sam jumps at the chance.

It takes about six months for him to retrain as a paramedic, which is more than enough time for him to get to know his new partner, Riley Evans - but when Sam puts on the EXO-1 FALCON and kicks off the ground; everything in him settles.

It’s a stupid way to describe the feeling - but it feels like everything in his life has been leading up to this very moment, Sam in the sky with honest to god wings, Riley on his left, and nothing but the open sky around them.

There’s others in their unit - in total, there’s about 8 members of the 58th Squadron, but Sam knows that he and Riley are the best. The others are good, there’s no doubt about it, but they don’t come close to the kind of stats that Sam and Riley have.

It’s exhilarating work, saving people instead of killing them, and it makes the blood in Sam’s veins thrum. He can’t write home about it, because the 58th is shrouded under all sorts of covert operations and need-to-know missions, but he tries his best to let his family know that he’s happy.

That he's more than happy, that he’s found his purpose, he’s found himself a brother, that he finally gets what his father meant when he said there’s nothing like a life in the service, son.

It’s the best three years of his life, and then everything goes to shit.

It’s a routine training session, not even an operation, and Riley’s doing loop-de-loops around Sam and generally being a dumbass. The wings have been upgraded recently, more manoeuvrability and decreased weight, and Riley’s making sure he gets his promised full range of motion.

He shoots up, yelling something that gets lost in the wind, and Sam watches as he goes up, and up and up - and then just as abruptly, he goes down.

It takes a couple of seconds for Sam to realise that Riley isn’t slowing down, that he isn’t flying down - he’s falling down; and those precious seconds cost Riley his life.

Later, he’ll hear people say that it wasn’t his fault. That there was some sort of malfunction in the wings, that Riley went too high too fast and the shift in altitude caused something to break.

Sam knows the truth though.

He catches Riley’s arm just as Riley hits the ground, his head lolled back and body limp, and rushes him to the med-camp, screaming so loud his voice goes hoarse. They rush him inside, a large burly man stopping Sam from following, and Sam stands there for five hours, in the blazing sun, catching glimpses of the doctors working as the wind moves the tent.

He stands there, un-moving, until someone steps out of the tent, caked in blood, and solemnly tells Sam that they’re very sorry, and they did everything they could.

Sam files his discharge papers the very next day.

Sarah picks him up at the airport.

//

She’s waiting for him outside, leaning against her car and furiously texting someone, so Sam sees her before she sees him. He’s split between being grateful that he doesn’t have to hail a cab, because those are next to impossible to catch from Louis Armstrong Intl Airport to Delacroix and he does not feel like renting a car - and being annoyed because he thought he had a couple of hours before someone was going to start asking him questions.

“You didn’t have to do this y’know,” Sam says when he’s close enough, and Sarah looks up with wide eyes, expression softening into a smile when she sees him, “I could’ve caught myself a cab.”

“That’s what I told Mama, but you think she listened?” Sam steps into his sister’s arms to accept the proffered hug, “Her baby boy coming home on his own? Like the fully grown man he is? Perish the thought.”

“You know I’m her favourite,” Sam wiggles his eyebrows, throwing his bags into the trunk of the car and making his way over to the passenger side, “I don’t get why you gotta be so mad about it.”

“Trust me, everybody and their mother in Delacroix knows you’re our mother’s favourite. There’s a little shrine for you next to the cash register. Any day now she’s gonna start leaving out candles next to your photo like you’re the second Jesus.”

Sam rubs at his chin, “You know - there’s been a couple of girls, and guys who’ve made that mistake before.”

The only reason Sarah doesn’t reach out and slap him upside on his head is because she’s driving, and Sam’s never been more thankful for his sister’s hyper-focus on road safety. She packs a mean punch.

They fall into a companionable silence, the kind cultivated by knowing each other for their whole lives, but Sam knows she’s biting back her questions.

“It’s okay,” he says finally, because you have to rip the band-aid off fast to lessen the pain and all that jazz, “You can ask.”

“I don’t got nothing to ask,” Sarah says immediately, like it’s a rehearsed answer, “but Mama thinks you’ve been hiding some major injury from us. Like a missing leg or something.”

Sam huffs at the non-question, “I got all my limbs Sarah. All ten fingers and toes I promise.”

There’s a beat and then - “My partner died on my watch. Fell out of the sky during a training exercise. I couldn’t stay there after that.”

Sarah hums, “You know what you’re going to do now you’re back home?”

Sam shakes his head, even though Sarah isn’t looking at him, “I have no idea.”

read the rest on ao3!!

[detectivejay-chuckles-halstead]

Nervous Breakdown // Jay Halstead x Reader

Photo by @karihighman​

Description: Jay is there when you start to break down.

Words: 1539

Warnings: None

Pairing: Jay x Reader

A/N: So, this I wrote for me. The schedule Reader talks about is my actual schedule. The sign offs are the things I actually need. This was me last night, except I didn’t have someone like Jay to talk me down from my nervous break down, I just had it and then had to be at my clinical this morning (which I’m still at btw lol). But yeah. Hope you enjoy. And if my posting is sporadic in the next month or so, this is why. 

“Come to bed,” Jay told you softly, leaning on the doorframe of your bedroom with his arms crossed over his chest as he looked at you with papers spread across the floor, couch, and coffee table. 

Your movements were frantic as you tried to organize them all, trying to figure out the best system to keep everything together. Every section was chronologically ordered for the online documentation, paper clips holding each stack together. Then, there were the colored sheets that had even more important signatures on them. You had to make sure everything was in order as class was drawing to an end. 

“I’ll sleep when I’m done, Jay,” you snapped at him before closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I just-”

“I know.” He walked over, stepping around the stacks before sitting directly behind you in the only place clear of paper. “Come here.” 

You couldn’t stop yourself from leaning back into his chest, his arms wrapping around you. Grounding you as your mind went a mile a minute. You also couldn’t stop yourself from grabbing your calendar, flipping it open to this month.

“What’s the schedule look like?” His chin rested on your shoulder as he looked at the planner. 

“I have to help with the EMT class Saturday from seven to three. Then I start my shift at work at eight tomorrow night. Then, work Sunday night. So I’m going to try and catch up on some sleep on Sunday. I have my exam in Med Emergencies on Monday. Then, I have an ambulance clinical AM shift at seven. Same on Wednesday. A quiz in Med Emergencies on Thursday. Then, I work Thursday night. Off at eight on Friday morning, but I picked up a shift from two to ten Friday day. Then, ambulance clinical on Saturday AM shift. 

Same with that next Sunday. A quiz in Med Emergencies on the seventeenth. Then work that night. Work the night of the eighteenth, but I’m off at four in the morning instead of my usual eight. Mainly because I have an OR clinical on the nineteenth from seven to three. But then I work that night, off at five on the twentieth because I have an exam in Med Emergencies that day. Ambulance clinical AM shift on the twenty-first. Twenty-second, I have an ER shift from seven to three, then I work that night. Work Sunday night, so I’m going to try to catch up on sleep that day. 

Twenty-fourth I have another exam in Med Emergencies. Ambulance AM shift on the twenty-fifth and sixth. Then, we review for our Final in Med Emergencies, but I work that night. I’ll get off at six to get to my ambulance clinical on the twenty-eight at seven. I work that night, but off at five to get to my Maternal-Fetal Truck shift by eight. 

On the thirtieth, I have an ER shift from three to eleven. The thirty-first, I have my final in Med Emergencies, and then work that night. Off the day of the first, but I work that night. Then, an ER shift at three on the second. Then, I work that night, but I’m going to try to switch shifts just because my ER shift won’t finish until eleven. The third, we have our student evals. The fourth, I’m helping the junior class with their Ops day, and then I have an ambulance clinical that night. Off the fifth, but work that night. Off the sixth, but work that night. Seventh is labor day, so completely free. ER shift on the eighth at three. Then, on the ninth, OR shift at seven.

“After that, I don’t know because we haven’t signed up for our capstone. Which all of this,” you said, motioning to the mess of papers, “is me getting everything in order to make sure I have everything done and what I still need. Because we can’t start capstone until all of our skills check offs are done, and we’ve hit all of our demographics.”

“What do you have left to do for your skills?” That question got you to sigh, putting the planner down and grabbing a notebook. You had to push your glasses back up on your face as you looked down at your messy handwriting. 

“Five peer reviews for pediatric intubations. Two peer reviews for needle cricothyrotomy. Three peer and two instructor reviews for trauma assessment. Five peer reviews for trauma intubations. Two instructor reviews for joint splinting -- which I’m already an EMT, why the Hell do I have to sign off on the BLS stuff again? Same with long-bone. I need one peer review and two instructor for traction splint. Again, BLS bullshit. Seven peer reviews for medical and cardiac scenarios. Eleven peer reviews for IV starts, and one instructor. One instructor for IV piggyback. Five peer reviews for IO. Oh, and another instructor. Three peer for IM injection. Three peer for synchronized cardioversion. One peer for defibrillation. Three peer transcutaneous pacing. Four peer reviews and one instructor for adult team lead scenarios. Five peer reviews and one instructor for pediatric team lead scenarios. Eleven peer reviews for being a team member. Three peer reviews for being a team leader for geriatric scenarios. Six peer and one instructor reviews for adult physical assessments. And finally. Six peer and one instructor review for pediatric assessment,” you read off, letting the paper fall to the ground. 

He held you a little tighter. You felt bad. With all the stress you’d been under for the past month, and with how crazy his job was, the two of you hadn’t gotten to spend a lot of time together. And the next month was going to be even crazier. 

“When are you supposed to start your capstone?” He pressed a kiss to your neck, your eyes fluttering closed in response. 

“They want us to start September Ninth, but I’m going to be the last one who gets to sign up because I’m so far behind! Everyone is going to pick the cool preceptors, and I’m going to get stuck with the ones nobody else wants,” you vented before huffing in frustration. 

It was indeed very frustrating, stressful, and downright annoying that you were so far behind compared to everyone else. That’s what happens when you have to be off for six weeks because you tore your knee. Now, it was a constant game of catch-up. 

“Just breathe when I breathe,” Jay instructed in that calming voice, following his breathing pattern. It got your heart rate down as tears came to your eyes, despite your internal protests. You were on the verge of a nervous breakdown, and it wasn’t going to be pretty.

“Maybe you should email your instructor?” he suggested when you had your breathing under control on your own.

“And have her take me off all my clinicals and reschedule everything? No. No fucking way. I can’t just email her and schedule my nervous breakdown, Jay. She was very clear in first semester that if we took on too much and couldn’t handle it, she’d take us off our clinicals and completely reschedule everything. I can’t do that, Jay. I can’t because then I’ll be even further behind.” You were talking a mile a minute, Jay taking a deep breath behind you. You took the hint and matched your breathing again. 

“Okay, then don’t email her. But, I want you to come to bed right now. It’s two in the morning. You have an ambulance clinical in five hours. You need your sleep. All of this will be waiting for you when you come home tonight,” he insisted. You didn’t want to, but you knew he was right. 

The two of you stood up, walking into the bedroom. You couldn’t help it as you collapsed on the bed with a groan, much more comfortable than the hard floor in the living room. He wasted no time in joining you, pulling you close again. This time, you were able to see his face at least, tracing his features gently with soft fingertips. You missed him. 

“How about we do something Labor Day? Just you and me to destress a bit?” you asked, Jay nodding in agreement before lips met gently. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” he said with a soft chuckle, kissing you again. “But you’re almost done. This is the worst of it. After your final, you’re pretty much done with lecture. Capstone is your last hoorah. Then, your tests and you’ll finally be a paramedic after over a year. Doing this through a pandemic. Through all your family crap. I’m proud of you.”

“You really know how to sweet talk a lady,” you joked, resting your head on his chest.

It was the exact thing you needed to hear. Jay always knew what to say. You were so close to being done. Then, you’d be in your dream career. All the hard work was going to be worth it. The thousands of hours in clinicals, the hundreds of hours in class. The countless sleepless nights and caffeine filled days. Yes. It would be all worth it. Just a couple more months to go. And Jay was by your side.

[detectiveinchicago]

Sparks Fly: Chapter 11

Chapters list here

Note: Hi guys! I’m back, yesterday I was inspired so I wrote this chapter. Thank u for all the comments and reviews, you are amazing. If you want to be tag in this story please let me know. English is not my first language. Enjoy xxx.

DISCLAIMER: GIF IS NOT MINE.

WARNING: Bad language, PTSD and sex. A LOT OF SMUT IN THIS CHAPTER. 

After a few hours she signed the discharged papers and start changing her clothes. The shoulder was killing her, but she didn’t want to abuse the pain relievers Dr. Marcel had given her. They had given her a sling however Marcel clarified that if he did not move his shoulder too much, she would not need to use it all the time. Will was going to take her to Molly’s after finishing his shift. She had met some of her brother’s coworkers, all of whom were kind enough not to ask too much, although Caitlyn could tell that they all had questions.

Caitlyn was talking to Maggie, the nurse was scheduling her next check-ups when her brother approached them both ready to go. One bad thing about injuring the shoulder was that she couldn’t drive, she was going to need a driver for the next few weeks if she ever left the house.

“Are you okay with going to Molly’s?” Will asked as she drove.

“Yes, the boys are going to before they go back to New York” Caitlyn commented looking out the window.

“And when will you come back?” he asked.

“I don’t know, I have to come back to Chicago Med so Dr. Marcel can check my shoulder and after that, I guess I will pack everything” Caitlyn replied turning to see him “You can always come to visit me”

“When? I hardly have time to see Jay in my free time, if I have free time” Will commented.

“I know,” said Caitlyn “I don’t take holiday either, but we’ll make it work”

“I don’t want you to go,” Will said “Now that you’re back”

“I don’t want to leave either but my life is in New York, Will” Caitlyn replied “I’ll visit you again”

“Nothing to make up for lost years?” Will asked.

“Why recover years? We both made mistakes Will and we have to leave them in the past” she commented while her brother parked the car “I don’t hold a grudge Will, I know you did what you could”

Will looked at her and smirked, “Then we’ll make it work”.

“Nice place” Caitlyn commented as they walked towards Molly’s.

“The owner is a firefighter” Will informed her.

“And he also owns a bar?” she asked raising her eyebrows.

“In his spare time, Herrmann is a good guy” Will replied opening the door for her.

“Here you bring your dates?” Caitlyn asked “The place is very cozy but it has many people”

“First, no, and number two I won’t talk about my love life with you” Will replied.

“Don’t worry, I already have a good idea” Caitlyn informed him rolling her eyes.

“Will, how are you?” asked a girl with a hair full of curlers when they approached the bar.

“Hi Stella, this is Caitlyn, my sister” Will introduced her to the girl.

The girl named Stella raised her eyebrows “I didn’t know you had a sister”

“I get that response a lot lately” Caitlyn replied rolling her eyes “I live in New York”

“Oh, are you part of the team?” she asked pointing to the table where her coworkers were “What happened to your shoulder?”

“Long story, I’ll tell you if you pour me a coke” Caitlyn replied raising her eyebrows.

“No beer?” Stella asked raising her eyebrows too.

“I’m with painkillers” Caitlyn explained.

“Deal done girl, I’ll go get something for you” Stella replied “Will? The usual?”

“Yes, I am going to greet some acquaintances, ok?” Will told his sister

“Will, I’m a big girl, I think I can take care of myself” Caitlyn replied rolling her eyes.

“Well, just don’t drink any cocktails Herrmann offers you,” Will told her “What is more, drink nothing because you can’t” he added before disappearing leaving Caitlyn in doubt about Herrmann cocktails.

“Herrmann has the habit of preparing powerful drinks” explained a blonde girl who was sitting next to her “I’m Silvie”

“Caitlyn” she replied shaking her hand, “Nice to meet you”

“I heard you are Will and Jay’s sister” Silvie commented.

“Yes, I would like to say that I have nothing to do with them but sadly I can’t” Caitlyn replied rolling her eyes.

“What brought you to Chicago?” Silvie asked as Stella handed them their drinks.

“Work, I’m FBI” Caitlyn said taking a sip of soda “I came to investigate the serial killer case”

“Heard you caught him” Stella mentioned.

“Yes, my shoulder is a witness” Caitlyn replied pointing to her shoulder, “He stabbed me, are you firefighters?”

“Stella is a firefighter, I’m a paramedic” Silvie explained.

Caitlyn nodded “I like the bar”

“Molly’s is a shelter” Silvie informed him “The police, the firemen, the paramedics, they are always around”

“It has a friendly atmosphere” Caitlyn agreed.

“Who is the girl praising my bar so much?” asked a man approaching them.

“Caitlyn, this is Herrmann, Herrmann, this is Caitlyn, Will and Jay’s sister” Stella introduced them

“Nice to meet you, nice place, we don’t have things like that in New York” Caitlyn praised.

“It’s Chicago magic, girl” Herrmann replied.

Caitlyn had lived in Chicago for a long time and she could describe that city but she wasn’t sure she loved the city enough to say it was “magical”, it was probably the product of poor memories the city gave her. She saw Sheryll signal her and apologized to the firefighters for reaching out to her coworkers.

“How you feel?” Sheryll asked her when she approached.

“It hurts but I’m fine, I’m a little sleepy anyway” Caitlyn replied sitting next to her.

“Sleepy? You slept a whole day” Hanna told him.

Caitlyn shook her head. “Feel like I’ve been run over when do you fly back to New York?”

“Tomorrow” said O.A “What about you?”

“I still have to go to Chicago Med for a checkup this week” Caitlyn replied.

After that Sheryll, Hanna, and O.A fell into a conversation that Caitlyn wasn’t paying much attention to, to be honest. Instead, she was looking at another table where Jess, Clinton and Kenny were standing alongside whom Caitlyn recognized as some members of the Intelligence Unit. Kenny looked good. He was laughing at something Clinton had said. Caitlyn could swear she could hear his laugh from there, he looked happy and Kenny happy was Caitlyn’s favorite Kenny.

Their last time of marriage, when they were still together, had been heartbreaking and painful, so seeing him smile was something that made her smile too. Kenny was a fun person with his friends. Usually, he used to have a facade of seriousness and solemnity around him but Caitlyn was glad to know that he had at least smiled again.

Kenny was angry with her, Caitlyn understood, she had left him when he needed support with PTSD, but she did not regret it. Despite everything, he would continue to do it because that was how he had finally accepted that he needed help and that he could not do everything alone. The best thing had been that she left. And it had hurt, the first time it had hurt like hell, but therapy had helped her to feel better little by little and to overcome some unfinished problems that she had from her time in Chicago.

Caitlyn didn’t want to admit it but seeing Kenny again brought back memories, good and bad but memories at last. She just wished things had been different, that they just had more time or met at a different time. Caitlyn was too concerned not to repeat patterns she left looking back all the time and what might have become of them.

“Guys, I think I’m going to retire for today” Caitlyn commented putting aside her thoughts. Her friends protested, but Caitlyn promised they would have a drink when they got back to New York. She grabbed her coat and thanked Stella for the drink before leaving. Since her brother had given her a ride, Caitlyn should call an Uber but decided she was going to walk, it was summer and she liked to exercise. She carefully draped her jacket over her injured shoulder when she saw Jay leaning against her truck.

“When were you going to tell me you were married?” her brother asked her.

“I didn’t think it was your business” Caitlyn told him.

“At least you could mention it” Jay added.

“Before or after you judged me without reason?” Caitlyn responded wryly, “Or maybe after you stopped talking?”

“I expected more from you, Caitlyn” Jay replied.

“I’m sorry if you are disappointed by me and I’m sorry if you think I’m not good enough to talk to me” Caitlyn was furious because Jay believed he had the right to judge her after all that time “You left me for years and now you think you have the right to judge me or any of my decisions?”

“I went to fight a war, Caitlyn” Jay replied rolling his eyes “I wasn’t playing in the park, you know?”

“Yeah, I perfectly know that myself” Caitlyn reproached him looking the other way “I counted on you Jay, we were a team and you left me and after that, you just stopped talking”

“You are judging me as if I would have preferred Afghanistan to be at home

“We both know that you ran away when you turned 18”

“As if you had done any different” Jay replied.

“I ran away because dad took the shit out of me every day because I ended up in the hospital 8 times in a year because dad couldn’t control himself, because staying here was killing me slowly and because you and Will left me!” Caitlyn yelled at him “I was in pain too; Don’t you think Mom was important to me too? She left us all and yet you and Will had the option to run away while I had to stay here enduring all the crap from dad” She turned to continue walking towards her apartment “I’m sorry if I turned out in a major disappointment but this me is the best I could do with what I had to work with”

Caitlyn turned the corner feeling anger wash over her and collided with someone.

“Damn,” he muttered when he saw it was Kenny.

“I think the way you were yelling could say that” Kenny answered, raising his eyebrows.

“I’m not in the mood” Caitlyn told him, rolling her eyes and continuing her walk.

“Why do you insist on fighting with everyone?” Kenny asked, causing Caitlyn to turn around in a fury.

“I don’t know Kenny, you tell me, why do you insist on being such a hard ass to me?” Caitlyn answered approaching him.

“Sorry, do you feel bad that I was harsh on you when you left me unexplained?”

“I didn’t think you needed them, you were smart enough to figure out just why by yourself,” Caitlyn told him with sarcasm.

“You left me because suddenly that I was fighting wasn’t that attractive to you, huh?”

“I left you cause I was dead inside!” Caitlyn screeched tired that people believed they had the right to judge her “I lived for you when you didn’t want to live for yourself” She added moving her shoulder a little that was hurting again “I really tried to bring you back, I begged you to start therapy, Kenny. I begged you to do something for you, for me, for us, and you didn’t even try it for me”

“You left me anyway, Caitlyn” Kenny replied a bit stunned by his wife’s speech “You left me, you turned your back away from me when I needed it the most, you left even though you knew I needed you”

“You didn’t need me, you needed to lose me to understand that therapy was the only way to solve your problems” Caitlyn told him making a strange smile with her lips, “Some say you don’t know what you have until you lose it, I think we both know that’s true now”

She resumed her way leaving Kenny behind; it had been a more than stressful night, she could feel her shoulder giving her stitches of a pain asking her to rest. Caitlyn found herself unable to think. First, she had confirmed that her brother Jay wasn’t too happy with her. That was okay. It wasn’t like she was too happy with him either.

Unlike Will, Jay had always been the closest to Caitlyn growing up, and Caitlyn had always considered Jay her hero. Jay was always there for her while they grew up, when she was 7 years old and a boy threw her off his bike Jay went after him to beat him up when he was 11 and gave his first kiss Jay went again after the bastard who had touched his sister when she turned 14 and her heart was broken for the first time. Jay was always there until one day he said he had enlisted in the army. That day had been very sad for Caitlyn because she realized that Jay was going to go far away from Chicago.

When their mother died, Jay returned to Chicago for a time, but as soon as he could, he re-enlisted and disappeared. She later understood that they limited the time to send letters or communicate with someone abroad, but what she never forgave him was leaving her with her father. The only thing that ever hurt her was feeling abandoned when she most needed someone to protect her. Someone who would kick her father’s ass when she still couldn’t, because what Caitlyn had wanted most was that she had learned to fight in her teens, so she would have kicked Pat’s ass.

On the other side was Kenny, Caitlyn was exhausted. It was better when she didn’t have to see it. She hoped she could at least take some blame for her ruined marriage. However, Kenny seemed hell-bent on throwing her in the face whenever he could that she had left him without looking back. That was a lie. She had called Jess to ask for updates until he told her it was unhealthy for her to keep worrying about Kenny like this if she had left him. It was the truth. It hurt to hear it, but Jess was right.

What had always intrigued Caitlyn been why Kenny had never looked for her, she hadn’t been hiding so at any moment in those five years he could have contacted and talked to her? However, Kenny had stayed on the sidelines. That had always intrigued her. “Why, if she was so important to him he still felt so hurt five years later, hadn’t he tried to get her back with him?”

Then Caitlyn decided that she was not going back to her apartment yet. She crossed the street and started walking the other way towards the downtown hotel where Sheryll had told her the team was staying. She and O.A were already settled in apartments when the team arrived. She showed up at the front desk and used her badge to be told which room Kenny was staying in. When she got to his door Caitlyn took a deep breath before knocking. Kenny opened the door and Caitlyn remembered why she liked him so much, there was nothing more handsome in the world than Kenny in a sweatshirt and sweatpants.

“Why did you let me go?” Caitlyn asked before Kenny could even open his mouth, “Why did you let me out the door that day if you needed me so bad?”

“I only wanted you to be happy” Kenny replied after a few seconds “Even if it wasn’t with me, I’m sorry it wasn’t with me”

“You were the love of my life and I thought I was yours too” Caitlyn murmured “But I was wrong, you don’t let the love of your life go out the door and you don’t go after him”

“I wanted you to live your life, the life that I hadn’t let you live while you were with me”

“I think loving you wasn’t enough for you” Caitlyn said.

“You always meant the world to me” Kenny confessed “I’m sorry if I let you forget that”

“Why did you never go looking for me?” She asked, staring at him.

“I went to see you one day, and I saw you leave your apartment with O.A, you were laughing at something he was telling you so I left,” He told her.

“O.A and me? That’s ridiculous”

“Now I know but at that moment I thought the best thing was to let you be happy, even if it wasn’t with me, your life seemed fine” He shrugged.

“It just seemed like that wasn’t true anyway” Caitlyn whispered “You were always so noble”

“You deserve to be happy” Kenny clarified.

“With whom? I did not know anyone who told me I was worth it until you arrived and after that, I think nobody was ever good enough” Caitlyn explained biting her lip with a grimace “Sorry I gave up on us when you never did “ she added turning around ready to walk away.

“Caitlyn?”

“What?” she asked looking back at him, but before she got an answer, Kenny kissed her. And by God, Caitlyn could swear it took her breath away every time he did. She stroked his hair as he took her by the waist. His touch could make Caitlyn’s body explode. It had always had that effect on her. It made her feel like a child who was having her first kiss.

He lifted her slightly off the floor to enter the room and close the door before pressing Caitlyn against it. God, he would never tire of kissing her. Every time he did, it was like it was the first time. He could never get enough of her. He lifted her into his arms and laid her gently on the bed. It was crazy; he knew it and he was sure Caitlyn knew it too, but neither of them wanted to stop.

Kenny took off her jacket and jeans as he stroked her legs before removing her panties. He slid down and fondled Caitlyn’s intimacy. He moved his fingers against her center and caressing her, making Caitlyn sigh. He ran his tongue over her folds and sucked on her clit slowly. Another thing Caitlyn missed about Kenny was sex. They always had the best sex in the world.

“Oh, shit” she said, throwing her head back and stroking his hair. Caitlyn moved her hips against him as she pulled on Kenny’s sweatshirt to remove it. He moved his tongue in circles against her center as she stirred against him, sucking on her clit once more before removing her top and bra and start kissing her lips again. Caitlyn kissed him and untied his tracksuit bottoms and then remove his boxer shorts. She wanted to move and give him back a little of what Kenny was giving her, but her shoulder wouldn’t stop bothering her.

Kenny nibbled on her nipples while inserting a pair of fingers into her intimacy, Caitlyn let out a little cry of surprise before beginning to moan out loud. He sucked on her nipples, causing her to shake. Caitlyn was shaking with pleasure when he settled down and thrust inside her. They both moaned. He kissed her neck before starting to ram into her.

“God” Caitlyn muttered throwing her head back “I had forgotten it felt so good” she moaned.

“Baby” he groaned, “You’re so tight” He could feel the walls of her vagina pressing against him. Sex with Kenny was hot, it was sexy but soft and delusional until Caitlyn discovered that it was her favorite type of sex, rough but soft at the same time. He took her breasts between his hands, kissing and sucking them as he started sucking on Caitlyn’s neck. Caitlyn arched towards him seeking to intensify the contact, his rhythm intensifying causing her to moan louder.

“Cum baby, cum for me” he whispered with gasps, and Caitlyn couldn’t wait much longer to fulfill his request before cumming between moans being followed by him a few seconds later.

She could feel her body shaking and her shoulder begging her to stop moving. Having sex with Kenny still made her shiver. It still felt as good as the first day. That was crazy. They hadn’t seen each other in five years and there they were, having sex as if time hadn’t passed. “Having sex” was a simple euphony because they both knew there was more than sex in that room. Caitlyn just closed her eyes, trying to calm the hectic rhythm of her heart. To be honest, she didn’t want to open her eyes and see his face. She was wondering how she had accepted this madness and how she had ended up in this situation. With all those thoughts in mind, she fell asleep.

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

Tag list:

@proceduralpassion @lovecatystuff @bethii1 @give-jack-a-lightsaber @thevelvetseries @lovingfanofupstead @thetwit @anotheronechicagobog @sadsot @chicagogirl2019 @cpdfan231 @bxrgesses @onechicago-upsteadrhekker​ @slytherinwitchy​ @itsdesiree86​ @halstudandruz​ @hereforthedale​ @cactiem​ @nhcwdw​ @anotherfan07​ @pinkrockstar19​ @rochyu​ @mollyc70 @fangirlings-things​

[tngrace]

Road Trip

Written for @911lonestarangstweek day 4. This really got away from me 🙈 it was supposed to a short one shot, but now I'm debating making it into an AU series - so please leave me your thoughts on if that is something you'd like to see -and if it is something you'd like, I'd be open to request for the series.

This also takes my Road Trip square on my GTHB square for my bestie @justkillingtimewhileiwait thanks for letting change your original idea and run with this. I hope you like it boo! ❤

As always thank you @moviegeek03 for all your support on my writing.

GTHB masterlist; Read on A03

TK and Carlos met when they were freshmen in college at Austin Community College. They had a joint Lit class, and instantly became best friends. TK had escaped to Austin from NYC, having picked a random place on the map just wanting to get away from his parents. He was taking some classes to appease his mother, but he wasn't sure he'd make it past the first semester. He was debating between a career as a paramedic or a firefighter, but his mother insisted he needed to try college and find his own path. Carlos was struggling with his own career path as much as TK; he'd had a chance to go to the University of Texas on a soccer scholarship, but had turned it down in favor of finding his way at the community college first. He still played in a league in town on the weekends, but he knew it wasn't his career path. His father was a Texas Ranger, but Carlos wasn't sure that was the path he wanted to take. He was taking a mixture of classes between criminal justice, social work, and psychology to see if something stuck out more than the rest.

Their first semester was just general entrance level classes, but TK had already started some EMT classes alongside his Gen Ed ones. Carlos had started a psychology class with his Gen Ed ones, but he was waiting until he could delve deeper into all three programs before making any decisions. TK ended up liking Austin more than he expected and not just because of Carlos, so he ended up making it a whole year in the EMT program at Carlos's insistence. Carlos wasn't ready to lose his best friend just yet, even though he knew after that year, he probably would.

After that one year, TK joined the fire academy at ACC, electing to stay in Austin much to everyone's surprise. He still wasn't sure if he wanted to be a paramedic or follow in his father's footsteps, but with his level one EMT certification completed through ACC, he was able to join the academy fairly easily to see if he would like it. Carlos supported TK's decision either way.

They ended up renting an apartment in town together close to campus over summer break once TK decided he was staying. Once fall classes started back up, Carlos worked shifts at a community center that offered activities for kids, teens and elderly, around his class and soccer schedule, and TK worked weekend shifts at a coffee shop and restaurant. Thankfully real estate was cheaper in Austin than NYC, and they were able to afford the apartment on their part time jobs. Living together led to new challenges of getting to know one another better, but it also brought the greatest change to both their lives. Ever since the day they met, they were both slowly falling. Getting together was inevitable; falling in love was easy; making it last, well that was to be determined.

Sophomore year seemed to fly by and before Carlos knew it, he was having to make a decision on what he wanted to do next. TK had joined station 126 when he graduated from the fire academy. He was dual certified, and a total badass at his job in Carlos’s opinion, making him one of the most sought after probies of his class. Carlos ultimately decided to go on to UT and get a bachelor's in criminal justice with a minor in psychology. He still wasn't one hundred percent sure what he would do after, but having that extra time to decide eased his anxiety.

With TK working full time now at the station, Carlos was able to take on more classes if he wanted. He chose not to though; instead TK encouraged him to get back into soccer more, knowing how much Carlos missed it. His first semester at UT, he watched a soccer practice and decided to try out. Surprisingly he was able to walk on that year. TK supported all of Carlos’s decisions, just like Carlos did of TK. TK did his best to never miss a game, although sometimes his shifts coincided with them.

It was senior year, and there was a soccer match in Florida over spring break. The team elected to drive having convinced the coach to let them all drive separately so they could fully experience spring break after the games. Carlos was fine with driving on his own because he was known for getting car sick, sometimes exceptionally bad. He was surprised, however, when TK announced he'd taken the week off work to go with him. "Are you sure?" Carlos asked him when TK had told him.

"Yes. I saved up vacation for this. I might not have wanted the full college experience, but I don't want to miss your last spring break, or games," he grinned.

Carlos gave him a soft kiss that they both smiled into. "Ok," he whispers, not breaking their bubble. They packed that night and loaded the car so they could head out first thing the next morning. They had a sixteen and half hour drive ahead of them, so they wanted to hit the road as early as possible. They technically didn't have to be there til Monday, but Carlos liked having this extra time with TK since he was off work.

In the two and half years they'd been together, Carlos had managed to only catch a cold or bad allergies on TK. He had forewarned him on their first ever adventure together that he was prone to car sickness, but thankfully he'd not had any. The first part of the journey, Carlos was going to drive. TK was coming off a twenty four hour shift, and he wanted TK to get as much as sleep as possible. They'd just crossed into Alabama nine hours after leaving home. They'd stopped a couple times, but Carlos had insisted he was fine to keep driving. They were stopping for food, gas, and to stretch their bodies for a bit. TK was feeling more refreshed after his long nap, and he insisted on driving afterwards. Their goal was to make it as close to Orlando as they could before having to stop to sleep.

They eat at a roadside diner and discuss their plans for the week ahead. Carlos has a game Monday and if they win they'll play Tuesday; lose and they'll go home. He has to admit he's glad TK pushed him to pick it back up because it's been a great distraction when life feels too stressful. After they walk around for a little bit, and refuel, TK takes over driving and they hit the road again.

They've been driving for about five hours when TK notices Carlos has gone exceptionally quiet. "Babe? You ok?"

"Yea. Yea. I'm ok." He reaches over and squeezes TK's knee in reassurance even though he's not that convincing.

"Carlos?" TK tries again with a little more worry lacing his tone.

"Ok. Maybe I'm not so ok. I think I'm starting to get a little queasy, so I should probably try to sleep." He says it almost apologetically, but he also isn't sure he wants TK to see how sick he can get.

"Of course. You lay back and sleep and just let me know if we need to stop," TK says the worry clear in his voice as he runs a hand through Carlos's curls. He'd come prepared with some sprite, Gatorade, dramamine, and even his medic bag just to be safe. He knew Carlos said sometimes his car sick episodes could be pretty rough and he just wanted to be prepared to make Carlos feel better. He keeps an eye on him out of the corner of his eye, and while Carlos appears to be asleep, TK can tell from the furrow of his brow that he's still feeling rough.

After another hour, TK pulls into a gas station to refuel. He softly rubs Carlos’s cheek. "You want some dramamine?"

"Not really. It knocks me out and leaves me feeling fuzzy afterwards," Carlos murmurs.

"Ok. Gonna get some gas, and then we'll figure out a plan." TK softly kisses Carlos's forehead before he gets out. He hates that Carlos is feeling so sick, and he looks up motels nearby in case he can convince Carlos to stop and rest since they're so close to Orlando.

Carlos insists he'll be fine the last hour of the drive, even though TK is skeptical. He does get Carlos to take some sips of a sprite before they get back on the road. Carlos does his best to sleep the last hour to the hotel they'll be staying at for the soccer games, but it's hard with the way his stomach is rolling. Carlos elects to stay in the car while TK checks them in, and it's only once they've stopped moving that he realizes how sick he is.

He makes it over to the nearest bushes, and he violently loses everything he'd put into his body that day. If there's one thing Carlos hates, it's puking. It's the worst in his book, but he hates even more that it makes his eyes water to the point he cries. TK finds him mere seconds after he started puking, but Carlos is too sick to care at this point. He feels TK rubbing his back until he is done, ending with dry heaves. He stays bent over trying to catch his breath as his head pounds in time with his heartbeat. It's the sickest he's been in a long time.

"Here small sips. We'll stay right here until you think you can make it to the room." TK passes him a Gatorade he seemingly pulled out of thin air and rubs a piece of ice on Carlos's neck since he doesn't have a towel or washcloth. Gatorade is his least favorite, but he knows he'll need the electrolytes so he does as TK says and takes small sips.

After a few small sips and a few more gags at the taste, Carlos finally stands up and wipes at his eyes to try and hide and dispel the tears. "Sorry you had to see that."

"Hey no. I don't mind. I just hate that you were sick. Think you can make it to the room?" TK asks wiping at Carlos's face.

"Yea. Think so." His body feels heavy with exhaustion as always after being car sick and his head pounds still. He really just wants to lay down. TK wraps an arm around him and gets him back to the car. He drives around to their room and then helps Carlos out. When Carlos moves to grab some of their stuff TK stops him. "I've got it. Let's get you on the bed."

"You shouldn't have to carry all this in," Carlos pouts.

"And you need to rest ," TK counters. "You were pretty sick babe and you're still looking a little pale."

Carlos tries to hide his face, hating that TK had witnessed that, but TK just stops him with soft reassurances and leads him to the room. He hurries out for their bags, promising Carlos he can brush his teeth soon, and then he's back. Carlos’s eyes feel like they weigh a ton, but he stays awake long enough for TK to dig out his toothbrush. He let's TK help him over to he bathroom, hating how weak and tired he feels, but TK keeps up the quiet reassurances that he doesn't mind helping. It's nothing he hasn't seen on the job, and he loves Carlos, therefore he doesn't mind taking care of him.

Once his mouth feels fresh, he let's TK strip him down for bed. TK gets a cold wash cloth and rubs it over Carlos’s face and neck making Carlos hum in contentment. He gets Carlos settled in bed, and Carlos clings, not wanting TK to move far. "Ok. Let's cuddle," TK says fondly. He hates that Carlos is sick, but he's kinda enjoying seeing Carlos in a different element of being vulnerable in front of TK.

He softly rubs Carlos’s back as Carlos gets comfy. "Tomorrow should be better," Carlos murmurs softly.

"If it's not it'll be ok. I have some of the sea sick bands in my medic bag if you'd like to try them. You have to wear them at least thirty minutes before going anywhere or I would've suggested them earlier when we stopped. I just wasn't sure they'd do much for you then. "

"Mmm I might. Dramamine works. I just don't like the after feeling."

"I get that babe. But don't worry about it now. You just rest and let me take care of you." Carlos murmurs his assent, and with TK rubbing his back, he drifts off to sleep fairly quickly. TK makes sure he's good and asleep before he goes to get the rest of their stuff. He's quiet as he carries it in and starts to unpack. Once he's got the cooler situated, with most of the food in the mini fridge, he feels his own exhaustion creeping in. He strips down and crawls in bed with Carlos, smiling as Carlos instantly curls back around him. He's glad to see his boyfriend finally resting.

Carlos is still a bit sluggish the next day, so they sleep in and take it easy. After a light lunch and more Gatorade for Carlos, they try out the bands when they do some light exploring. They seem to help, but the true test will be on the trip home. By Monday, Carlos is back to full speed, and the soccer team wins. They lose on Tuesday though so the rest of the week is theirs to do as they please. One day is spent at Disney since neither had been before and despite knowing  they won't be able to do it all, and the rest of the week is spent on the beach. They talk about coming back to Disney one day, wanting the full experience of all the parks. They have a blast together just relaxing and enjoying each other's company. Carlos wears the bands on the way home when TK drives, and he doesn't get sick so he takes the win. TK is just glad he was able to take care of Carlos for a change and hopefully found a permanent solution to keep his love from being that sick ever again.

[agentnolastname]

Half a Heart

An OH alternate universe where Casey Valentine got into Mass Kenmore Hospital's resident program instead, but she ends up meeting Ethan Ramsey anyway.

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey X Casey Valentine (MC)

Chapter 1

Summary: Casey runs into a car crash on her way to her apartment less than a day before her first shift as Mass Kenmore resident.

"A resident. At Mass Kenmore. I actually start my shift in a few hours." She says still not sure of how to continue speaking without stuttering.

"Oh, that's nice, I guess." Ethan says and hangs the chart at the end of the bed. "I'm gonna check on other patients. You can stay here as long as you want."

Casey nods at this and smiles. "Thanks, Dr. Ramsey."

"You're welcome." Ethan stops by the door and faced her again. "You did well. Be confident next time, Rookie."

Word Count: ~1.6K

Trigger Warning: Car Crash, Accident

Note: May contain inaccuracies

***

"Carl, we seriously have to go now, I'm running late!" Casey stumbles upon their porch as she hastily puts her boots on.

Tomorrow is her first day as a resident, and there's only one flight scheduled for Boston today. Missing it, means not being able to attend her first day. That's why she really don't want to be late. Somehow, her brother does not feel her urgency though.

"You still have a couple of hours away from your flight." He says with a straught face as he walks past her, entering the car and opening the engine. Casey enters the car immediately, closing the door off with a bang. Carl laughs at this. "You need to stop being so nervous. You'll make it, and you'll enter Mass Kenmore head up high tomorrow. You'll do great."

Casey just snorts, rolling her eyes, "Well, thanks for the vouch of confidence but the plane won't wait."

They both shared a laugh as the car starts zooming through the highway.

***

It was a seven-hour flight, but it went by fast. She didn't even know they were landing, only realizing it once they actually did. As soon as she got off the plane, she yawns and stretches. Looking around, the thought finally sinks in.

She is indeed in Boston. Alone and about to spend residency in one of the city's most promising hospital. She wasn't sure if she is ready for this, but standing there right now at the Boston Logan International made her realize one thing. It's now or never and the only thing she wouldn't be able to accept is failure. She smiles to herself capturing a picture to send to her family before getting an uber.

It wasn't long before a black sedan stops in front of her. She immediately puts her bags inside and steps inside the car, giving her apartment address to the driver before she eases back into her seat.

Boston, I hope you're ready for me.

***

The drive was supposed to be a short one, considering that her apartment was just minutes away from both the airport and Mass Kenmore. However, her car stops in the highway, just a short distance away from what seemed to be a crash. She immediately got out of her car and walks towards the scene being cleared by paramedics. She stares out in shock.

Sure, they were warned about things like this before, but even during her internship, she never experienced something like this. She scanned the area assessing how bad the situation is. Two long school busses are completely toppled over, and with only a couple of paramedics out, she's sure they aren't gonna be finished anytime soon.

She sighs, running to the triage tent where she saw a paramedic furiously going through materials.

"Are there any doctors present yet?" She asked, the man just looked at her for a brief moment, continuing what he had been doing as he answered her question.

"None. They're on their way though."

She nods as she moves out of the tent again, scanning the area. She saw a little boy not too far away, desperately trying to move his fingers. She immediately runs to where he is.

The kid is stuck in a limbo, two pieces of metal are piercing him, one on the chest and on the abdomen.

"Code red! Someone get in here!" She shouted waiting for a paramedic. One of the EMTs run to her direction pulling a gurney along with him. Another paramedic helps to remove the metal from the boy, slowly lifting it up. The EMT carried the boy carefully into the gurney. Casey follows suit, since the boy had his hand wrapped on her finger, looking at her with tears in his eyes. "You're gonna be fine."

They rode the ambulance and starts making their way to the hospital. The EMT had attached an EKG on the child.

She leans back on the seat, sending a quick text to her uber asking him to drop her things at her apartment. Then she watched the kid closely and noticed how his breathing became rapid, his jugular vein distended.

"How many minutes before the nearest hospital?"

"Edenbrook is atleat 10 minutes away."

"He's tamponading, i'm afraid we can't wait that much." She bites her lip, unsure of what to do. She's an internal medicine resident, performing anything on the boy might cause her license. However, if she does nothing, he'll have no chance at all. "I need a needle and a catheter, I'm gonna do a pericardiocentesis."

"Are you allowed to do this?"

"Do you want this kid saved?"

The EMT did not speak again, instead he handed her the needle. Which she immediately took.

"We don't have an ultrasound, you're gonna have to go in blind." Casey nods at this, shifting her gaze into the young boy's chest.

"Tell me if there's even the slightest ST elevation."

Here's to praying it'll all goes well.

***

It felt like the longest ride. The pericardiocentesis went smoothly, the kid's breathing seemed to normalize after she did it. Pericardial fluid is still draining when they arrived at the hospital. The kid had held her hand again after she finished doing it.

I have to stop being attached to people this fast.

She shakes her head as the doors opened, they were immediately greeted by a couple of hospital interns.

"Carter Thompson, a nine-year-old male, with multiple metal puncture wounds obtained from the bus crash." The EMT nods at Casey hoping she'd explain the situation further.

"His BP is 100 over 80, he went under a cardiac tamponade on the way so I had to perform an emergency pericardiocentesis. One of his arms looks obviously fractured."

"Who are you?" One of the residents looked at her, confused.

Right. Who am I. A kid is dying, Karen.

"I'm Casey Valentine. I was on my way when I saw the crash." She said. The interns just nod despite the still confused faces. She watched as they pull the gurney away, walking towards the hospital.

"I think you've made quite the call." The EMT says suddenly.

"I hope so." She smiled at him. "By the way, I'm Casey. I guess you've already heard earlier. I believe I haven't gotten your name, though."

"I'm Rafael."

"Nice name." She says as he went inside the ambulance to fix the equipments inside, letting another EMT replace the equipments taken earlier. "I think I'm gonna head inside to check on him."

"I think you should." Rafael nods and offers his hands. Casey takes and shakes it. "It was nice meeting you."

"You, too. Looking forward to see you again, soon." With that she enters the hospital.

***

She was waiting for an update for a couple of hours. She sat on the lobby checking in on her work groupchat every once in a while. She's tired from the flight, and the fiasco earlier, yet she can't find herself leaving. She would just like to make sure the boy is okay.

"Is there anyone here who knows Carter Thompson?" She sat still, waiting for someone to speak. A few seconds after, no one did. So she stands instead and approaches the nurse.

"I was the one who took him in earlier." She says. The nurse nods leading her into a room where a doctor stands, busy writing on a chart while Carter lies on the bed, still unconscious.

"Dr. Ramsey, his guardians aren't here." The nurse said the moment they got inside the room.

"We're gonna have to wait for them then."

"There's someone who is waiting for an update on him though."

Casey shifts uncomfortably as the attending looks up from his charts, his eyes landing on her.

"Who are you?" He asked, voice stern. Casey couldn't help but stare.

How is this hospital filled with good-looking people?

She clears her throat when she noticed that the man still looks at her with a straight face.

"I brought him in earlier."

"Oh, you performed the pericardiocentesis." He says and puts the chart down, turning to face her. "A good call, I must say. He is doing fine now."

Casey looks at him expectantly.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you anything more."

Right. Confidentiality protocols.

Nodding, she speaks. "I just want to make sure he's alright. I'm not sure if I've done the procedure right earlier."

"You're a rookie?" Ethan is not one for small talks yet he found himself wanting to have a small conversation with the woman that is standing before him.

"A resident. At Mass Kenmore. I actually start my shift in a few hours." She says still not sure of how to continue speaking without stuttering.

Casey what did your brother tell you about simping?

"Oh, that's nice, I guess." Ethan says and hangs the chart at the end of the bed. "I'm gonna check on other patients. You can stay here as long as you want."

Casey nods at this and smiles. "Thanks, Dr. Ramsey."

"You're welcome." Ethan stops by the door and faced her again. "You did well. Be confident next time, Rookie." He says as he turns to leave. And then he walked away, leaving Casey with a big smile on her face.

***

Note: Hello! This is my first attempt on writing a chaptered fic, this is also my first time to write something OH-related. I hope this is atleast okay to read;-; that's the end of chapter 1! I'll update as soon as I finish the next part!

Taglist: @mvalentine @anotherbeingsworld @starberrybliss @nikki-2406 @clowneryme @drariellevalentine @lillylavander20

[rhetoricalrogue]

Wayhaven Week, Day 6

For the @otomefandomevents Wayhaven Week 2020

Prompt: Daydream Pairing: Nate Sewell/Rowena Kingston Warnings: None, just excessive fluff Word Count: 2,232 Summary: Boring conference calls bring out the best sort of distractions

People who decided to hold meetings where a single email chain would do were the absolute worst, Rowena thought, trying not to sigh loud enough for the speakerphone to pick up. At least the mayor had decided on a conference call, and it did make her feel better knowing that Tina was with her in her office, if only for her to have someone to roll her eyes and make funny expressions at.

It really wasn’t all that professional, but the mayor had been droning on for the past hour and a half, so she decided to cut herself some slack. 

He loves the sound of his own voice, doesn’t he? Tina grinned at her as she scribbled on the margins of Rowena’s notepad where she was attempting to take some halfhearted notes.

“Tina,” she whispered. “Pay attention.”

“Spoilsport.”

Rowena shook her head and took a sip of her tea, listening as the mayor and Captain Sung went over security details for the upcoming spring festival for at least the fifth time.  Going over her notes, she absently started to scribble squares in the margins of her paper, boxing in Tina’s note several times to emphasize Tina’s statement, especially when it was obvious that on his end of the conference call the captain was starting to lose patience yet was trying his hardest to be diplomatic.

“Detective Kingston, perhaps the Agency wouldn’t mind loaning out an agent or two to assist?”

She sat straighter at the Captain’s suggestion. He’d made it clear to her that while she was the liaison to the Agency, the well-being of the citizens of Wayhaven were her first priority. To have him suggest that the Agency help out was a first.  “I could suggest it to Agent Kingston, but I’m not quite sure to what extent we can -”

Mayor Friedman interrupted her before she could finish. “Excellent!” There was a sound of him slapping his hand on his desk. “I’m sure that Rebecca would loan out her team for the evening!”

Tina raised her eyebrows and leaned her elbows on Rowena’s desk. “With all due respect, Mayor,” Rowena began, attempting to tamp down the irritation at his overly familiar use of her mother’s name, “but just as my priorities lie first and foremost to Wayhaven, the Agency is Agent Kingston’s priority.  I cannot in good conscience volunteer them without asking.”

That seemed to take the wind out of the mayor’s sails, at least temporarily. “Very well,” he grumbled. “However, it would help cover some of the gaps we have in securing the main square.”

Rowena looked at the map of the town she had printed out before the meeting. Wayhaven wasn’t that large, and it wasn’t as if she and Tina, back when Rowena was a patrol officer, hadn’t covered the same area satisfactorily.  This year they had even managed to get more of a medical presence since the fire department had another paramedic on their roster.

She took another sip of her tea. No wonder Detective Reele had resorted to day drinking.

“I think at least one or two agents would be nice to have around,” Tina stated, causing Rowena to glare at her.

Traitor! Rowena wrote on her notepad, bolding the statement with several underline marks. Tina stuck her tongue out at her in reply.

“As I said, I can ask, but I can’t promise anything.”

“It would be helpful,” Captain Sung told her, his voice softly supportive over the speaker. “Yet I would understand if they were unable to help; we’ve done this festival with far fewer staff in previous years, we’ll be fine with the numbers we have.”

The conversation then turned more towards the specifics of patrol routes again, and seeing as it was something that they had gone over before, Rowena let her mind wander, more squares dotting her notepad as she thought how to broach the topic of borrowing one or two agents from Unit Bravo with her mother.

Of course, that thought made her think of Nate, and how nice it would be to have an evening with him, even if the two of them were on duty. She knew without a doubt that he would say yes if she asked him, and that was one of the reasons she was hesitant to ask. She didn’t want him to feel as if he had to do something for her just because she asked him to, or to feel bad if Unit Bravo’s schedule didn’t allow for him to do what she asked.

But still...the Spring Festival was one of Wayhaven’s annual events. The idea of strolling downtown amid all the food and craft vendors, music wafting through the air with Nate made Rowena’s heart flip. The town square was traditionally set aside as a dance floor, the live band at the gazebo in the middle. All around the area, paper lanterns were hung in the trees and strung up on poles, lending the area what Rowena had always felt was an incredibly soft, romantic atmosphere. 

She’d never taken a date to the festival.  Part of her wondered if Nate knew how to dance, which made her all but feel his hands on her, holding her close to him as they slowly swayed to whatever music was playing.  It would be easy to lose herself to the depths of his eyes as everything else around them blended into background noise.  She let her eyes close, imagining for a brief moment the gentle yet firm way his lips would press against hers, his arms holding her closer until there wasn’t any room between them.

“Rowena…” She sighed at the soft way he said her name, but frowned when Nate snapped his fingers in front of her face.  Blinking, she sat upright. Tina looked at her with a toothy smile on her face.

“Sorry, Mayor,” she said, leaning across the desk to be better heard by the speaker. “We had a little technical difficulty on our end.  Rowena said that she would be perfectly happy patrolling for the first shift.”

“Sorry,” Rowena silently mouthed, looking at her old partner guiltily.

“You owe me,” Tina mouthed back, looking pointedly at Rowena’s notepad. Where Rowena had been scribbling bold boxes and squares, soft hearts had taken over most of the page.  Rowena flipped the paper over to a blank page and reached for her mug to finish drinking the contents.  

The phone call finished soon after, most of the details ironed out to the mayor’s satisfaction. Rowena went over her notes and realized in frustration that they were mostly the same thing, just said different ways. 

“Totally could have been an email,” Tina said, stretching in the guest chair on the other side of Rowena’s desk.  “I had paperwork that I could have been doing.”

Rowena eyed the pile of paperwork that was stacked neatly in her inbox. “Me too.”

“Though seeing you zone out and daydream was worth it.”

She ran her hand over her face. “Ugh, at least it was you catching me instead of anyone. Thanks for the save, by the way.”

“Of course! What are friends for?” Tina stood up and stretched. “Besides, I volunteered you to take the first shift for a reason: you get done early and have the rest of the night to hang out with that tall drink of water agent of yours.”

That earned a blush that Rowena felt all the way to the tips of her ears. “He isn’t my agent,” she stammered, grabbing her mug and marching into the staff break room to wash it out.

“Sure he isn’t, Miss Fill My Notepad with Hearts While Sighing Dreamily.” Tina crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the doorframe. “Pull my other leg while you’re at it.”

 Rowena opened her mouth to argue, but Tina held up a hand. “Hey, I’m happy for you, you know that, right?  With all the weird stuff that’s happened this year, you deserve a little bit of happiness.” Her smile turned into a smirk. “Besides, I’ve seen the way Nate looks at you, I don’t think he’d argue if someone called you his detective.”

She couldn’t help the soft smile as she wiped her mug dry with a paper towel and put it back in its place in the mug tree on the countertop with everyone else’s mugs. “It’s just really early, Tina,” Rowena said, wiping up the counter with the paper towel in her hand before balling it up and tossing it into the trash. “I don’t want to presume anything, just have fun with whatever this is.”

“Okay, but I’ve read enough romance novels to know that this is the Forever type of thing, if you want it to be.”

“We’ll see.”  Rowena stretched her arms over her head, listening as her back popped from sitting for so long.  “It’s about time to call it a day, I’m leaving early.”

“After this afternoon, I think we can both comp our time.”

“You said it.  See you tomorrow?”

“With bells on!”

Rowena went back into her office to shut her computer off and grab her messenger bag. The day had been pleasant enough to skip driving to work in favor of a nice morning stroll. She eyed the wadded up paper bag in her trash can as she flipped off her light - it didn’t hurt that her morning walk to the office went directly past Haley’s bakery for one of her cherry turnovers and cup of lavender earl grey latte.  Come to think of it, something sweet later on in the evening after some piano practice didn’t sound all too bad.  Slipping her messenger bag over her head to sit across her chest, she started off towards the bakery, humming a cheerful tune.

And that was where she bumped into Nate, two to-go cups in his hands and a waxed paper bag hanging precariously in his grasp.

“Now this is a pleasant surprise,” she told him, smiling to match the one that lit up his face when he spotted her.  “Do you need a hand?”

“That would be appreciated, thank you.”  He handed her one of the cups to hold onto as well as the bag, which she put in her messenger bag for safekeeping.  “I was hoping to catch you after work, but it seems as if you beat me to it.” 

“I just got out of a long, tiresome conference call and decided that was all I could take for the day before my brain turned into mush.” She let the warmth of the paper cup sink into her fingers. “Someone ask you to make a coffee run?”

His smile softened and he looked down at her. “Actually, that was for you.  Something told me that you may need a little after work pick-me-up, and it was an excuse to come see you.  Your favorite tea and some cherry tarts. Haley was out of turnovers, but I figured these would suffice.”

 She took a sip, enjoying the lavender flavor wash over her tongue as she wrapped her free arm around his waist for a hug. “Nate, you’re the best boyfriend ever.”

They both paused at her declaration, Rowena stiffening and making a move to scoot away. “Sorry, that just sort of slipped out,” she babbled. “I know this is still new and it’s too early to -” She didn’t get to finish her sentence before Nate leaned down and kissed her. Rowena slipped her arm from around his waist to grab a handful of his jacket and pull herself closer.

“Don’t be sorry,” he breathed, pressing another light kiss to her lips.  “I like hearing you call me that.”

She smiled against his mouth. “What? My boyfriend?” 

He nudged his nose affectionately with hers. “Yes. I like it very much.”

“Then I’ll have to remember to call you that as often as possible.”  She leaned against him, happily sighing and putting her hand on his gentlemanly offered arm as they continued on their way back to her apartment.  “Although I’m a little angry with you right now.”

He caught her teasing tone. “Oh? And what misdeeds did I do to gain your ire?”

“I was in the middle of that awful call and I got caught daydreaming.”

Nate laughed. “And that’s my fault?”

She nodded. “It is when I was daydreaming about you.  You’re extremely distracting, I hope you know.”

He tugged her closer and took a sip from his own cup of tea. “I do apologize, Rowena.” Then he smirked. “Was it a pleasant diversion at least?”

Rowena glanced up at him and saw that his eyes had darkened and he was looking at her in such a way that made her wish they would hurry up and get back to her place.  “It might have been, had Tina not gotten my attention back on the call.”

“Well, we can’t have that.” He winked at her and Rowena felt another blush rise up from her neck to her cheeks.  “Though, perhaps now that you have me in the flesh, you’d like to pick up where you left off?”

She cleared her suddenly dry throat and gave him her best version of the bedroom eyes he so often gave her.  By the way his breath hitched and the nearly inaudible groan he let out, she had to say she was successful.  “Absolutely.”

[19mrs-barnes17]

As Long As I Can Get -  Chapter Two: Fairfield

Summary: Y/N Fairfield has spent the last 10 years pushing past all the hurt and putting all her focus into her career. A familiar face back in town threatens the peace she found. [prompt: Small Town Lovers AU]

Part: 2/5

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (AU)

Warnings: at a hospital, mentions of death and abandonment

Word count: 3,198

A/N: It’s been a wild week but here it is, chapter two! Enjoy! Special thanks to @wxntersoldiers​ for beta reading.

~

“Y/N? You think you could pick up my shift tonight? Missy is running a fever and I can’t get ahold of my mother to come take care of her.” Holding the phone away from her face Y/N sighed heavily as she rolled out of bed.

“Of course Dawn, just call in for me and tell them I’m on my way would ya? Thanks, it’s no biggie. I’m happy to help, let me know how Missy is doing later.” Hanging up the phone she’s up and changing in a flash, quickly moving across her apartment and back. 

Within 6 minutes she’s in her scrubs and locking her apartment door, rushing down the stairs and out the front in another 3. She slides into the driver's seat, buckles in, and on the road to the highway in record time. 

This was becoming a routine every week, someone would have an emergency and she’d be asked to pick up the slack. Her regular shifts at the ER in town kept her busy through the day, but her Thursday or Friday nights were often filled up by favors and desperate calls. She had a limit though, each person could only ask her one favor a month and she would cover one emergency. But when the emergencies came she could tell when they were real or just another masked favor. So by now the only emergency usually came from a mother whose kid was hurt or sick. 

Pulling into the employee parking lot, she exited her car and speed walked into the building, making her way to the sign in at the station. She prayed this would be a tame night and that Dawn didn’t have any difficult new patients because she was far too tired to argue about something that she was more of an expert on. 

Covering for Dawn was usually not too bad, most of her patients typically being older and gentle folk who treated her like a loving grandkid. Always gave her some nickname, rarely ever calling her nurse or even her name. All of which was fine by her.

Being a nurse hadn’t always come easy for her, remembering all the medications, the proper doses, the schedules, and how to do every aspect of her job was a lot to take in. But the moments in which she connected with a patient were the reason she got into the specific role in the medical field. Well that and her father.

Most of her family had joined the field, all three of her brothers had either become paramedics or a physical therapist. Her mother was the chief physician at the ER in Brightbarrow and her father was a private care nurse typically working with elderly or terminal members of the town. On a few occasions he had brought her along to see his patients, acting as a distraction for those who were living with severe pain. Through these visits in her childhood she began to realize how she enjoyed helping people who were hurting, and giving them a sense of peace for a little while.

One college degree later and she was back in town applying to work in the ER, her scheduled shifts hardly ever including weekends unless someone needed a cover and she was the only one who could spare the time. Her work there was routine, but here at this hospital outside town? She had found some gentle souls that brightened her day.

“Oh my, is that you Sunshine?” Claudia was sitting up in the hospital bed, remote in her hand to flip through the limited channels. “What a lovely surprise.”

“How are we tonight? Take our medicine okay today?” Claudia smirks and nods, the crinkles in the corners of her eyes forming as a flicker of mischief shines in her eyes. “Mhhmm.”

“I have somethin’ for ya sunshine. Made it yesterday when they let me do some crafts.” Claudia reaches to the table rolled off to the side of her bed and picks up a bracelet with rainbow thread. Y/N walks over to the woman and allows her to gently tie off the multicolored bracelet around her wrist. “There, perfect size.”

“Thank you Claudia, that’s awfully kind of you.” A smile is shared between the two before Y/N motions for her to hand over the remote. “Now how about we shut this off and I read you a little something so you can doze off, sound good?”

“Only if it's that one you told me about, the one with the little guys.” Y/N chuckled at the description but nodded in agreement nonetheless as she powered down the television and left to get her novel. 

“Alright get comfy now.” She waited for Claudia to adjust her bed and helped her with the pillows before cracking open the small book and beginning the tale. “In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit.”

“Ah that’s what they were, that’s right. Hobbits.”

At the end of her shift Y/N was exhausted and ready for bed, doing her best to keep wide awake on her drive back by playing her dad’s favorite rock station. Thankfully it did the trick and she made it into town without issue, turning down the volume and switching stations as she made her way through the town like she’d done a million times before.

Turning onto her street she was perplexed to notice a man walking the sidewalks this late in the night, his movements slow and steady. The closer she got to him the sooner she realized she knew exactly who the man was and she had some theories about what was keeping him up so late. Pulling to the side of the road she exited her car, slamming the door shut behind her before glancing up to meet the gaze of a man she hadn’t seen in ages.

Bucky Barnes stood across the street staring at her like he’d seen a ghost, his features painted with something along the lines of guilt or sorrow. The man was frozen in place by her, his eyes watching as she raised a sleepy hand to wave at her old friend. To her surprise he waved back and yet he didn’t move a muscle as she turned away from him to head to bed. 

The next morning she woke late, the Saturday sun shining through the cracks of her blinds stirring her from her sleep. Her stomach grumbled, craving some of Winifred Barnes’ cooking ASAP. Instead of driving she opted to walk over there, let the sun and the exercise wake her a little more.

Winnie’s Diner was the town staple, the place that every person went at least a few times a week. It was the kind of business that had become the heart of the town, the comfort and hospitality center. If you wanted to get a feel for the town you didn’t have to look any further than this diner, it was where Y/N had gotten her first job. She had one of her first dates in a corner booth and had been stood up in another. This building was a hub of memories, good and bad.

“Hey Y/N! Have a seat. I'll be right with you girl.” Becca was zooming around the place in a graceful hurry, placing plates and clearing tables as she went. “What can I get ya?”

“A coffee, a biscuit, some bacon, and an update. Please.” She watched as her best friend shook her head with a reluctant nod before dropping off the order. 

Once the coffee was poured she told her brother she was taking her 15 and slid into the other half of the booth. Y/N sat patiently, prepping her coffee as she waited for Becca to collect her thoughts.

“He’s back for good, got a job working for Thomas Geldin constructing those new homes over by your parent’s house.” Sipping her coffee Y/N did her best not to allow her emotions to betray her. 

“What changed?” 

“Not sure. He seems different, like his load is heavier. Almost like he was when Daddy died, just emotionally cut off and distant. But he is making an effort to get closer and he comes in here every day for his lunch break. Which is in a few minutes now.” Y/N coughed, nearly choking on her coffee as her eyes went wide. 

“Sneak.”

“Hey don’t look at me, you two just are fated to dine at the same time.” Becca smirks before rushing off to grab something to eat before her break ends. 

She hadn’t actually spoken a word to Bucky since he came back to town, and yet he suddenly lived across the street and worked by her old home. Now he would be here within minutes and she would once more feel compelled to initiate conversation, but she wouldn’t let herself. If he wanted to talk he would approach her, not the other way around. 

He arrived the same time her food did, his eyes scanning the room to presumably locate his sister but freezing on Y/N who sat before her. A mixture of emotions flashed across his features rapidly before settling on a guilt ridden expression. Bucky approached the booth, his sister pausing to greet him and casting a wink over her shoulder before speeding away. Standing before the booth he shifted his weight nervously as he seemed at a loss for what to say. His eyes are no longer able to maintain contact and he casts them to the empty seat.

Don’t invite him. Don’t invite him. It took all her strength to refrain from being polite, her eyes never leaving him as her gaze intensified.

“Mind if I join you?” Her heart dropped, she was expecting a simple hello or quick apology and not a full on meal with the guy. She nodded her head, refusing to take the bait just yet as he slid into the booth.

“Here’s your usual James.” Becca slid a plate with a steak and cheese melt and fries onto the table before rushing off again. She was pushing him, Y/N knew that his mother and the older townspeople were the only ones who used his actual name. To everyone else he was Bucky. 

“I’m sorry about not keeping in touch, there’s been a lot that I had to work through the past 10 years.” God she could hardly believe it had been that long since he left, an entire decade had passed by without him. “Can we start again?”

Once more she had to use all her might to restrain herself from instantly agreeing and forgiving what he had done. She didn’t understand why he cut her off so quickly and completely, their friendship wilting through high school and fading in the decade following. But she knew why he had become so emotionally reserved, after watching his father wither away slowly and gradually lose the ability to even function Bucky had begun to close himself off from everyone. He smiled less, got into more trouble with other kids, and barely made it enough to enlist. 

Sure she had missed him dearly and knew he had suffered greatly, probably even worse after his service, but she couldn’t risk getting too quickly attached again. Not when she knew how much his leaving her behind tore her apart. 

“I’ll have to think about it.” She could see her words striking a nerve within him, his appetite diminishing. “But I’d like to.”

His eyes snap up to meet hers, relief flooding them as he gazes at her fondly. Y/N wanted desperately to forget it all but she knew that proceeding with caution was the best course of action. She would let him have the opportunity to rectify his past mistakes, but it was up to him to take it.

“City noise or quiet town?” He knit his brow and gave her a perplexed look before taking a bite of a fry. “Pick one.”

“I’m not sure I have a preference anymore.”

“But you had one.”

“City noise.” She shook her head with a small smile, curiosity overtaking her careful approach. “Drowned everything out.”

“Patty’s coffee or city coffee?”

“Patty will forever have the world’s best coffee. No one in New York believed me, kept saying European coffee was where it was at.” 

“I’m going to move on before I get so offended I bring her coffee to New York.” Bucky laughed lightly, eyes crinkling shut as he shook his head at her. The sound warmed her heart and she could already tell this was going to be hard not to fall into. 

His break eventually comes close to an end and he has to rush back to work but leaves a napkin with his phone number behind. She shook her head at the gesture, he knew full well that she and Becca were very close friends and she could have gotten his number from his sister. One point to him for ensuring she had it. 

Becca was off at 3 so Y/N spent her time walking around the book shop, glancing at summaries and running her fingers over the spines. Her mind was far too crowded to pick anything out, focused on how she was going to make it through this renewal of friendship after so much pain. This place usually put her at ease, the sight of the full shelves and atmosphere calming her active mind. But today her mind had won and so she wandered around town until she had nowhere else to go but home. 

A knock sounded on her door an hour or two later and an exhausted Becca made her way inside to fall onto the couch and groan dramatically.

“I take it we’re getting pizza from Toni’s tonight?” This catches the attention of her best friend who suddenly perks right up.

“And wine.” Y/N opens her fridge door and pulls out a bottle, holding it up for Becca to see and receives a nod of approval.

“Pull up netflix and I’ll order the pizza.”

Several glasses of wine and pieces of pizza later the two are sitting on the floor going through a shoebox full of old memories. Memories of their friendship. 

“Oh remember this?” Becca holds up two ticket stubs, one to their high school dance and the other to see a Panic! concert. 

“We showed up in full formal wear, not thinking to pack another outfit to change into.” Y/N dug in the box and produced a photo of the two from that night, Panic! at the Disco tour shirts over their dresses. “I can’t believe we didn’t get caught until your mom saw the shirt in your laundry.”

“Almost the perfect crime. Kind of dumb of us to pay the money for the ticket when we never even went to the dance though.” The two fell into a fit of giggles and struggled to compose themselves. “We were not the best planners apparently.”

“Are you kidding? The College Bar Crawl fiasco?” 

“Oh Jesus, yeah we really should have thought through where we were going to end up staying the night. Next time we do something, we need a fully thought out plan.” 

“Agreed. It’s too dangerous for us to do any less. We might end up in Europe and somehow married.” Becca falls flat on her back as laughter bubbles through her, her head turning and spotting another box under the bed.

“What is this?” She slides the box out and removes the lid before Y/N can stop her, her fingers gingerly sifting through the contents as a smile tugs at her lips. “Oh, you’re a sentimental sap.”

“Gee thanks.” 

Inside were pictures of her, Bucky, and Steve throughout the few years they were all together. She instantly gravitated toward them when she moved to town at 8, sick of being the new girl and ready to settle into a place. They stuck up for her when she was mocked by some older kids, Bucky and Steve became her dearest friends in only a few years. 

There were more photos of her and Steve together, seeing as he was the only one out of the two boys to keep her in his life. Pictures of them at his prom, no girl seemed to see past his physical change and so he invited her. She remembered how her parents felt about that night, so proud of who they thought she was choosing to be with. A boy who was going to college, who had aspirations but remained loyal to his town. One with a kind heart and a gentle soul. She knew what they expected from the night, but they never understood that she and Steve were simply good friends and nothing more.

The photos of her and Bucky begin to dwindle around when she was 13, the year after his father died. Slowly Bucky grew apart from her and Steve, more the former than the latter. Something after her birthday party that year changed everything and she began to lose him piece by piece until he finally enlisted and left altogether. 

She held a photo of the two of them between her fingers, eyes tearing up at the sight of their smiles. It was the day of her party, when she could still make him smile and forget about his troubles even if just for a moment. Bucky had both arms around her torso, his head resting on her shoulder and a bright smile on his face. Her cheek was against his face, hands and arms resting on his forearms with a dopey big smile stretched across her face. 

“I swear I could kill that boy for what he did. I get losing touch while overseas, but cutting you out of his life while still in the same small town? That’s just cruel.” Becca sighed and took the photo from Y/N’s hands, placing everything back in the boxes before sliding both back under. “And to think I used to believe he liked you.”

“That would have made things worse.” 

“C’mon let’s forget about that punk and eat some chocolate.” Y/N leaned into Becca as she was held by her, sighing deeply. “You’ll always have me, and Steve. That boy would rather dive face first out of an airplane than ditch a friend.” 

“Ain’t that the truth.”

After Becca left Y/N spent some time cleaning up after their roller-coaster of a night. Her body was tired but her mind was far too active to rest. Thoughts of what she lost sticking in her brain as she watched out the window as Bucky exited his townhouse and began to walk aimlessly in the night. She almost wanted to join him, not speaking just walking.

Instead she readied herself for bed, lying under the covers and staring out the window at the stars. Her mind traveled to something Bucky once told her about his dad and how if he found the North Star then he would never be alone, because someone else was always looking too. 

And she knew exactly who that was.

~

Tags: @asphalt-cocktail​ @qtmeryr​ @broken-hearted-barnes​ @cantnkrusshedevil​ @gstran18​

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One:  Breaking the Curse

Chapter 12: Life After Death

He moved his dagger the following Thursday, a week after he'd been caught, on Thanksgiving afternoon when he could be certain Regina was busy with Henry. Not that it was a terribly difficult task this time around. In fact, he'd spent practically the entire week figuring out the perfect spot to bury it out by his cabin. He'd had time to do it, felt comfortable waiting, all because of one fact.

Sheriff Graham was dead.

It had happened on the same day that he'd spotted him burying the dagger. That very night. Whether or not he'd told Regina he saw him that morning was unclear, but after hearing the report from Dove, who was still watching Emma, he felt confident enough that he hadn't had the time and there had never been the place. Emma had run into Graham that afternoon. They'd followed a white wolf, a real wolf, around town before going to the cemetery and sneaking into the Mills Mausoleum. When they'd come out, Emma and Regina had engaged in some sort of argument which Dove couldn't hear, but he confirmed that they'd both taken swipes at one another. He hadn't seen Regina leave, but Graham had left with Emma. They'd gone to the police station. And there, less than an hour later, Emma had frantically called the paramedics saying that Sheriff Graham had collapsed. Dove couldn't confirm, but the rumor was that by the time they'd shown up, Emma had been the one to tell them that he was dead.

The funeral was ill-planned because of the Thanksgiving Holiday Regina had scheduled it for the Sunday afterward. When he arrived, it was standing room only. The only way he'd gotten a seat was by walking over to Belle's father, sitting on the end of a row toward the back, and motioned to his leg with a smile. "You know…cane," was all he had to say before the man grumbled out a sigh and resigned his seat to him. He didn't say another word, not even as he mentioned that his loan was coming due, and he was looking forward to doing business with the man who had killed his true love…though he might have left off that last little fact. Crowded as it was, the others in the row made plenty of room for him.

It felt like nearly half the town was packed into the tiny funeral parlor room. It figured. Regina had planned the service. Since he'd had no family, she'd seen it as her mayorly duty to make the arrangements. It figured that someone like her would have assumed that she'd be the only one to attend instead of considering the town that Graham kept safe and in order throughout the Curse. The former Evil Queen tried to maintain a façade of responsibility and valor, but he could see how his pupil swallowed hard, the way she blinked too frequently and dabbed at her eyes. If he didn't know any better, he'd think the poor girl had actually cared for the man, maybe even convinced herself that he cared for her. Magic and hearts and love…it was first and foremost messy stuff. He thought he'd taught her that.

To her credit, Emma Swan did not cry, but it was clear that she was affected by the Sheriff's death. She'd been with him when it happened at the police station, so it was ridiculous to think that she wouldn't be affected. And though he'd heard that she'd cried plenty that night, she didn't shed a single tear now. Sitting next to Mary Margaret, she stared straight ahead at the various speakers, unmoving except for the occasional blink. At one point, Mary Margaret had put her hand over her daughter's. Emma had winced at the contact, but when she looked over in her direction Mary Margaret smiled at her, and she'd managed to muster a half-hearted one before turning back to the service. Whether or not they knew they were mother and daughter, the connection they were starting to share was, without doubt, growing stronger by the day. Sad as all this was, that was positive thought.

He didn't stay for the reception, which he was sure, given the service, would lack both space and food. No, he didn't stay because he had work to do. Or rather work to oversee. Across town, he'd hired Dove and a few of his cousins to "clean out" Sheriff Graham's apartment. Though, of course, that was only half of it. In actuality, they'd been hired to comb through the apartment and locate any personal possessions and collect them for him to pick up.

Painful as it was, life went on. Life had to go on because this small town had been stuck in a rut for far too long. Not that he cared about anyone else but his boy, but he also knew that keeping this town moving forward was the only way to prevent more useless, wasteful death. And after watching Emma, who had dutifully been acting as deputy all this time, he was already working on the next steps in a new plan.

"This is it?" he questioned as Dove brought a single cardboard box to him and set it on the small coffee table in front of the equally tiny couch. "One box?"

Dove shrugged. "There wasn't really much to find. The apartment is fully furnished but not much of a home. He was married to his job, it seemed, so we didn't find many personal items. Guy didn't have any family, so no pictures or anything sentimental. Unless, of course, you found someone?"

Ah yes, when he'd explained the job to Dove, he'd told him it was because he was going to search for someone related to the man to take his possessions. The honest truth was that he hadn't even bothered trying. Dove was right. The man had no family; none with two legs that would appreciate any of his knick-knacks anyway. The Evil Queen's Huntsman had practically been raised by wolves, and since she'd wanted him to herself...she hadn't given him a family in the Curse. He was alone, even when he was with her. A lone wolf through and through.

"It seems our former Sheriff was a genuine man. What you saw was what there was. He had no family."

"Well…that's too bad. But this is it. Other than the clothes which we either donated or threw out, this was really all that was left of him. Given the circumstances, I'd ask if you wanted me to take these to the local pawn shop but seeing as how that's also you-"

"It's a job well done, Mr. Dove," he interrupted, peering into the box to look over what they had found. One item, in particular, stood out. It was a leather jacket, not the type that Emma Swan appeared to fancy but….

"I thought you donated or threw the clothes away."

"It was his favorite jacket, Sir," one of Dove's cousin's answered from somewhere behind him.

"That's Marc," Dove explained. "He played darts with Graham every Monday night."

"He wore it everywhere, Sir," Marc insisted sadly. "It's not really…ordinary. Remy said you wanted keepsakes…"

And so it appeared he'd gotten keepsakes. Some more helpful than others. Now that he was looking, he did see a dartboard with several darts bundled together in a coffee cup at the bottom. That was certainly not something he needed. In a rare moment of pity, he removed the board and darts and held them out for Marc. "I think these will have a happier home with you."

Marc took a breath, then turned red as he reached out and took them. "Thank you, Sir," he choked out.

"So what now?" Dove asked as his cousin looked the items over, and he saw him wipe his eyes on the back of his hand.

"Now the apartment is professionally cleaned, carpets and surfaces will be replaced, and it'll be rented out again. You know how this goes, Mr. Dove. Out with the old, in with the new."

"Rented out, wait…doesn't the Sheriff job come with the apartment? What about the new girl? Emma. She's only the deputy, but she's been acting as sheriff since he died? Shouldn't she be promoted? Shouldn't she move in?"

"I'd rather keep all that quiet for now," he smiled. Though that wasn't exactly in the cards, for now, it was reassuring that was where Dove's head had immediately gone for the future of the Sheriff. "She can't formally take the position until two weeks after it's vacated. As for the apartment when she does…well…you've been watching her Dove, does she seem the type to want to live in her dead former employer's apartment."

"Not particularly, but…Mary Margaret's place isn't exactly big."

"But it's not small either. No, I'd like to keep her where she's at. When she takes the job, we can keep her at salary instead of taking out for an apartment."

"And the box?"

"I think I'll hold on to it for a bit. You never know when it might come in handy."

"But, Sir-"

"Don't ask questions!" Dove shouted at another of his cousins. The corner of his own mouth twitched. It seemed that Dove had indeed learned his lesson. It seemed he might have even enjoyed the power trip that came from being in his employ. Good.

He motioned for Dove to pick up the box and carry it to his car for him, again motioning to his cane. Once it was set snug inside his trunk, he turned back to him. "Finish the cleaning; I'll see you're all paid, with a reminder, of course, that I expect services to come with discretion."

"We know. He knows."

"Good," he confirmed, slipping a pair of sunglasses on and fumbling with his keys. "I'll be in touch. There are things I'll need from you in the next few days. I will be looking to hire a couple of your cousins to help me with some other work. Just some little things, but I'm working on something special, and I need more eyes than you have. Be sure they know that discretion can buy them their way to the top of the list."

"Always happy to help, Sir. Any of us are."

He beamed. He might not have magic, but money did have a special sort of power in this world. "That's what I like about you, Mr. Dove. Wait for my instructions."

As he drove back to the pawnshop, he could hear Graham's belongings rattle and shift in the trunk. All that was left of a Cursed life. Nothing that would have been truly important to him if he'd died knowing who he was. If that was the case, he suspected Graham would have died happy, knowing Emma was with him. It was a waste. The only benefit from it that he now had a suspicion about where Regina was keeping her magic. Graham had no home, no family, no purpose other than being the Sheriff.

He had plans for Emma, though. She had a purpose and a family; she just didn't know it yet. As for the home part…that was something that would take time, but it wasn't contingent on the Curse breaking. He could begin that process now. He could make her invested in this place, these people, he could make this her home. He just had to wait a few more days, and until then, he had to proceed with caution. There were forces at work even beyond his control.

[oliveiraveiro]

The Next Chapter, Part 1

Open Heart, Rafael Aveiro x MC (Reader)

The next night after Rafael told you he’s leaving town, he says his goodbye to you over dinner. The night goes well until you find out that his flight is scheduled the next day. Will you be able to convince him to stay? Or will he really leave you and Boston behind for good?

w // mature with no actual smut yet, swearing

word count: 2549

ao3 link feel free to download and change {Name} to your name, and sora’s {she} and {her} pronouns if applicable.

note: the summary sounds pretty angsty, but I promise this fic is gonna be rafael stans friendly. pb’s already giving us and raf a horrible treatment, I won’t do that to you legends xx let me know if you wanna be tagged when I post the second part that I still haven’t written!!!

After yet another long day at work, you are finally heading home.

You stayed about an hour past the end of your shift, but it doesn’t matter now that you’re making your way out the doors of Edenbrook. Wrapping your arms around yourself as the cold air of Boston greeted you, you let out a soft sigh, focused on getting into the subway to finally get home.

You don’t notice Rafael until he called out your name for the third time.

“Hey,” he greets as he finally catches up with you. “You mad at me or something?” he teases.

You give him a small smile. “You still leaving me behind? If so, then maybe a little.”

He laughs softly, eyes twinkling, seemingly happier now that he was with you. “I actually came to say goodbye to you guys. I mean, aside from signing paperwork and all that, but yeah.”

You feel a sting in your heart, remembering that he is really is leaving town, but you try to quickly hide your emotions. You swallow the forming lump in your throat. “Oh, Raf, I’m sorry but I’m afraid you missed the rest of the guys. I’m still here only because I had to finish something up with the team…”

“Yeah, I know, I talked to them earlier already.” he admits, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m actually waiting for you.”

Your eyes soften as you stare up at Rafael. Despite your feelings about him leaving Boston, you find yourself genuinely smiling at him. “I’m here now and all yours.”

…Really? Your heart skips a beat at what you just said. Real subtle.

But his eyes only seem to light up again. “Perfect. You up for some local food tonight?” Rafael asks. “Let’s hit the street markets. For old time’s sake and one last time. For at least a while.” He quickly adds before you can react.

You don’t hesitate to nod. “This is a trick question, right? When did I ever refuse Antonia’s jerk?”

You and Rafael make your way to the local markets, and soon enough you are seated with him in a table, an assortment of food and drinks in front of you.

You tell him about your day at work, mainly about the senator and Kyra, and he tells you about his conversation with his boss.

“Honestly, I think she’s convinced I’m leaving because of the suspension. I spent about half an hour telling her otherwise, and that is after already telling her the reason why. I’m not even kidding.”

You laugh gently, shaking your head. “That being the reason makes sense though, doesn’t it?” You sneak a glance at him before taking a sip of your drink. “Actually, why are you leaving?”

“I already told you, {Name}. I… I wanna see the world. I’ve never lived anywhere but Boston. I just realized maybe it’s time to finally change that.” Rafael explains, no smile on his lips anymore.

“And that realization just came out of nowhere?”

“…No. I guess maybe it is about my suspension. It’s just been a tough couple of months for me too, you know? I’m lacking purpose, and I don’t want to feel like this anymore. Leaving town… it feels right. I feel like I can start doing something new, something that matters.”

“But you’re already doing something important here, Raf, that goes beyond your job as a paramedic. You’re helping your people, giving back the best way you know how. Not to mention how much you love your community. So, is leaving really the answer?”

You are facing him this time, and Rafael holds your gaze although he doesn’t answer. He sighs softly, swallowing, biting down on his lip.

“I’m getting your point. I promise I’m on your side, Raf. But a move this big? As your friend I have to make sure you’re considering all sides to this.” You continue, then bite your tongue at that word. Friend.

You feel your heart clench, and even more at your following question. “What did Sora even say about this? {She} must know how much you love Boston.” You tried to casually ask, playing it cool like you’re not dying to know if {she}’s coming with.

“{She}’s, um, excited, actually.” Rafael answers with uncertainty, not wanting you to feel awkward. “But only because {she} already did this, you know? The big move. {She}’s also surprised with my decision, and quite unhappy about it, {she} made sure to let me know that.”

You nod. Of course, {she} would be supporting him leaving the city. You’re unsure why you thought {she}’d be with you in this. You know by now that you and Sora are close to opposites.

“You guys didn’t break up or anything, did you?” You ask, needing to look away because he can’t see the hint of hope in your eyes. You finish the last of your food as you waited for his answer.

“Not exactly… It’s not—{she}’s not upset about that.” Rafael plays with his bottom lip between his teeth.

“You didn’t exactly break up?” You asked again, confused. “What is {she} upset about?”

“We already ended things about a month ago, I think?”

You gape a little as you faced him again. You can’t deny feeling hopeful, but still, a month? “Why am I just knowing about this? You didn’t…” You trail off, eyes saddening.

“I just know you’ve been very busy, {Name}. Not only with the diagnostics team, but with doing what you can to save Edenbrook. You already have so much on your plate that I just didn’t want to bother—”

“Raf, please, you know I’ll always have time for you. I’m here right now, am I not?” You interrupt him, eyebrows furrowed.

He only gives you a sheepish smile, but then he turns serious again, guilt flashing in his eyes. He frowns as he looks away. “I’m leaving tomorrow, {Name}.”

Yet another bombshell. “That’s... that’s so soon, Raf. Why…” You trail off, needing to take a deep breath. In an instant, you know you’re feeling anger in your chest. “I don’t understand. You keep on saying that this feels right, but it seems to me that you’re running away from something.”

“{Name}…”

“Tell me I’m wrong then, Rafael. Tell me you’re not rushing to fly out of Boston. Tell me you’re not trying to get away from something.” You dare him, unaware that you’re clenching your fist, too upset.

You’re not sure where this anger is coming from. You know for a fact that he doesn’t owe you anything– at least not anymore– and that you have no right to be upset. But goddammit he’s leaving and there’s nothing you can do about it. You’re mad at yourself, you’re mad at the world.

Rafael clenches his jaw, but he looks at you with soft eyes, almost begging. For what, you’re unsure.

“You’re not even going to lie? Tell me that you are sure and that you’re not just being a coward?” You laugh dryly. “Of course not. You’re always honest, aren’t you?”

“{Name}, please, sit down.” He tries to coax you, but it only made you grab your things faster and get up on your feet quickly.

“You wanted to say goodbye, you said it. Goodbye, Rafael. I wish the best for you, I truly do. And I hope that whatever it is you’re trying to leave behind gives up the chase.” You look into his eyes as you speak, sincere, but there’s no hiding the thousand other emotions you are feeling right now.

Rafael sees them all, and so he follows you, but you’re much faster, resorting to running just to get away from him. It’s funny how you were giving him shit for running away, but here you are, literally doing so. He catches up with you only when you’re already out of the food hall and further down the almost empty street.

You only realize that you’re walking further instead of towards your apartment when he grabs your arm. You’re actually closer to his street instead. You curse in your mind, trying to get away from his hold.

“What the hell, {Name}?” Rafael says, but he loosens his hand around your arm. Once he sees you’re trying to catch your breath from running, he lets you go. “What is up with you?”

“I just…wanna go home.” You say out of breath.

“By walking the opposite way? Actually, excuse me, by running away, like what you claim I am doing.” He gives you a pointed look.

You hold up your index finger, gesturing for him to hold on, then you turn, starting to walk away in the opposite direction.

“Are you—” He quickly runs after you, grabbing your arm again. “{Name}, please. I don’t understand why you’re acting like this.”

“If it isn’t obvious yet, Raf, I’m upset.”

“Why, because I’m leaving? Can’t you see that I’m putting myself first for once? I swear I imagined you’d be proud of me. Aren’t you always the one always pushing me to pursue what I really wanted?”

“You breaking up with me, Raf, despite what I felt, what I strongly felt and still feel about you, that is you putting yourself first. This? Don’t pretend this is the same. Don’t pretend that by leaving you’re doing what’s right and that you’re not trying to avoid a problem! Please, just let me go, I don’t think we still have something to talk about.” You raise your voice, breaths still heavy.

Rafael looks taken aback, and you instantly feel guilty, but he slowly lets your arm go again so you take the chance to take a few steps away. He thankfully doesn’t follow, and you thought you’d be able to finally go, but you freeze the moment you realize what you just said.

You blush deeply, slowly facing him again. “Also... also with your breakup with Sora.” You try to add, but only flushing more as you’re unsure who ended the relationship. “If you… I mean, if you broke up with her. If she broke up with you, obviously, she put herself first. Unless it was a mutual decision, of course. In that case you both are putting each other…” You trail off as Rafael made his way towards you again.

You’re not running anymore, so you’re confused why he is doing so towards you. “What—” After watching the big guy make his way to you, the next thing you know is that his lips are on yours. Your eyes are wide the moment your mouths meet, but as he started kissing you, god it feels so good and it feels like home, that you had no choice but to kiss him back.

He grabs your hips and pulls your body closer to him as his tongue slips past your mouth, and you moan into his. You wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss.

Somehow, him leaving is far from both your minds now. The fact that you’re not together anymore? It’s as if it’s long forgotten. You were skeptical when he said that leaving ‘feels right’, because how the hell does feeling right feels? But now that you’re kissing him, you’re sure that this is what feels right. Right and perfect, like your lips and his are meant to always meet like this.

Much to your dismay, he starts to pull away after a long moment. But he only grabs your face this time, obviously catching his breath. You start to laugh softly, but he only kisses you again, even more hungrily. You kiss him back, humming into his mouth, but you pull away again, taking his hand leading him into an alley.

His eyes darken as soon as he realized where you’re going, but he tugs your hand to stop you. “I… god, I want to, {Name}. But it’s been so long. I can’t make love to you in some random alleyway.”

You feel your heart flutter and you can’t help your giddy smile, but you tease him, trailing your finger on his chest through his shirt. “You sure?” You smile slyly. “We crossed off dancing under the street lamps. How about fucking—”

Before you can finish, his lips are on yours again, devouring your mouth. You feel just how much he truly wants you, and you admire how he’s able to resist your offer because you’re more than ready to jump him here and now. “My house. Now.” He commands, and you don’t dare suggesting otherwise after that.

You reach his house not long after, and you were glad to see no trace of Sora behind. You half-expected to see a shirt or shoes lying around that’s evidently smaller than Rafael’s size.

When you got to his bedroom, it was obvious you were looking around. You tried to observe what changed, or if there’s anything out of the ordinary. Before you can overthink the pile of clothes neatly folded and oddly placed on his study table, you feel him wrap his arms around you from behind.

“We didn’t, {Name}.” He says softly near your ear, kissing your temple.

“You mean, not here? {Her} house?” You move your head to the side a little, looking back at him.

“Not ever. One of the many reasons why she broke up with me.” He clarifies.

You almost feel guilty that it made you glad, but his hands rubbing your sides feels amazing and it only ignites your desire for him more. “Mm. Then I’m happy to let you know I didn’t have any rebound sex with anyone either.” You grin, taking his hand, leading him to the bed.

Laughing gently behind you, he carries you in his arms bridal style, only to throw you onto the bed on your back.

“I’m having amazing flashbacks.” You grin, taking off your shirt before moving up more on the bed, tugging off your jeans, and he helps you take it off completely.

He gives himself a moment to stare at you in your underwear, swallowing, the dark look back in his eyes. He quickly takes off his jacket and his shirt, climbing on top of you.

You kiss him again, slower this time, but somehow much more intensely.

He breathes your name against your mouth, and he kisses down your jaw and neck.

“You feel it too, Raf?” You ask softly, tilting your head to the side to give him more access to your neck, moaning softly at the feel of his hot mouth and lips against your skin. “Like you’re right where you’re supposed to be?”

“In your arms? Yes.” He doesn’t hesitate to answer, pulling away a little so he can look into your eyes, smiling, wider than you have ever seen him do in the past months. Just like before, when you were still together, you realize.

You feel a rush of excitement, and you take his face in your hands, kissing him again. When you pull away you literally had to bite your tongue so you don’t tell him you love him here and now.

You take a deep breath, running your fingers through his hair, making him meet your gaze again. “Then stay.” You tell him softly, almost in a whisper.

“{Name}…” His eyes soften.

“Stay, Rafael. Stay with me.”

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Is The Breakup done? Or might we get more? (Please?)

The Breakup is, I’m afraid, complete for now. 

But have a new one instead

Deep Within The Darkness Peering: Part i: Chapter One:

Tension hung thick in the air like an acrid mist, clearing the A&E waiting room slowly as the crowds of waiting patients dissipated in an eerie calm. Silence, an odd ebb in the usual rush, filled the large room as a group of nurses waited expectantly by the closed front doors of the hospital. It was a rare occurrence, the ringing of the blue phone, but one that made the whole place still when its shrill tone echoed along the corridors.

“Do ye think it’ll be someone dangerous?” Someone whispered from within the group, the breathy tone making it almost impossible to discern who’d voiced the question.

The group, small and made up of recently qualified and transferred nurses, all looked at one another, their glances a mixture of worried and intrigued. In the centre of the busy hub of the nurses station, the innocuous phone sat - hardly ringing - a dark contrast to the red emergency phone that was never silent. It was the central line from the city’s prison to the hospital and signalled the arrival of one of the inmates. Usually, minor injuries could be treated by the onsite doctors and it was rare for anyone to need external support. Which made it all the more interesting when it did ring.

“Beauchamp!” With the secondary waiting room devoid of life, the doctors’ voice rang out clearer than usual, making the collection of nurses jump and turn as if in tune with one another.

Claire raised her hand, timid at first until her confidence renewed and she felt more able to identify herself from the rest.

“It says in your file that you’ve a background in trauma? You published a paper, yes?” He was clear, his tone steady and sure. He already knew about her pre-med training but was clarifying the fact loudly as if to assert himself, making his decision seem solid to the rest of the staff.

She nodded, a slight smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Yes, doctor. I did.”

“Then you’ll assist on this one. It’s tricky, be prepared. Have you ever seen a transported patient before?”

“No, I haven’t…”

“They, depending on the severity of their offence and their priors, come with a swarm of guards. These tend to get in the way- it being their job,” he continued talking as he turned away from the room, expecting Claire to follow in his footsteps and not waiting or turning back to see if she’d done as he’d assumed she would, “not to allow their charge to make a bid for freedom whilst they’re here recovering. That means they have the opportunity to get in the way. Be forceful with them. They won’t be offended by you being brusque, in fact they probably prefer it that way. In return, if they’re not in the way, you’ll ignore them...studiously. We have a job to do, no matter the crime, he’s being punished for that. We don’t judge, just heal, that alright?”

“Yes, doctor.” She said again, convinced that her interest had been piqued too much to be interested in judging the man - rather, she just wished to collect as much experience as possible and this was a step in the right direction.

As they turned the corner, a flurry of activity caught her eye and it quickly became clear that the original code had been a false positive. A ruse designed to draw attention away from the real entrance of the affected prisoner.

“Ready, nurse?” Another colleague asked, appearing with her hands coated in foam from the sink.

“As I’ll ever be.” She returned, smiling courteously as she began scrubbing in.

Once cleaned and redressed, she stood quietly with the rest of the team as they waited for the head of surgery to arrive. The mask covering her face made it far more difficult to breathe than during her initial training and residency, and she had to hold her hands together in front of her to stem the shaking. It wasn’t the task that was causing this initial panic, but the build up. The calm before the storm which allowed silly niggles to escalate doubts within her mind.

But as the door slammed open and the prostrate man surrounded by paramedics and prison guards entered, all non-medical thoughts cleared from her mind and she immediately stepped into the breach.

Noise levels rose as machines beeps vigorously and doctor began passing tools and hurling instructions and observations at one another. Swept away by pure instinct, Claire made sure she kept her ears open, her hands passing various pieces of intricate equipment and dabbing open wounds with cloth as her well-trained mind swung into action.

It was only afterwards, the swirl of chaos extinguished in the small OR, that she noticed his hand -limp and pale- chained to the bed. Her stomach rolled and she had to swallow back the bile as the heart rate monitor beeped, it’s anguished howl calmed for now by the sutures and stents inserted by the doctors and nurses.

With the procedure at an end, Claire couldn’t help but step back and look over at the young man lying in front of her. He couldn’t have been older than twenty-four, the bruising and excess swelling adding something darker to his otherwise friendly looking face. His high cheekbones were tinted red, the fresh flush of blood flowing freely beneath his skin as his body began to heal. He was handsome, in a rugged sort of way but even with the lofty presence of the cuffs and the guards standing silently around her, something niggled at her. He didn’t *look* like a dangerous criminal - although, of course, looks could be deceiving. Unable to quite put her finger on it, she stepped back, being careful not to knock into one of the accompanying wardens, took a deep breath and turned to free herself from the stagnant air gathering in the room.

He looked innocent, she told herself, muttering the word to herself as she joined her fellow nurses out in the wash room. Her uncle Lamb had often poked fun at her innate ability to discern individuals’ characteristics - it didn’t happen as often anymore, not like when she was a teenager - but every so often she’d get a glimpse into someone’s soul, their aura calling to her like a colourful ghost as she stood cautiously beside them. The prisoner had been in pain, that would’ve been obvious to even the most casual of layman’s, but there was something besides that. A more prominent pain, an anguish set apart from the physical element of his wounds. And beyond that, a sort of goodness that only inhabited the rarest of humans.

“Claire?” Nurse Fitzgibbons nudged her arm, bringing her back to the present as she shook off the thought and looked over at her boss. “Did ye hear? Yer to stay wi’ him, aye? Be close by and tend to him as he wakes. Doctor Bain says he’s no longer in danger but it’d make me feel happier if he were being closely monitored. Just dinna mention it to him directly.” She winked as she walked off, as if divulging a wee secret though they’d all been made painfully aware on their first day how truly irascible Bain was. Not a man to be crossed.

“Of course…” she returned, a thankful smile covering her face as she pulled the cap from her head, throwing it into the bin with the other discarded clothing, “...I’ll make sure he’s well tended to.”

-- --- --

Despite her usually busy schedule, Claire had managed to keep her promise to Glenna. Whilst taking her lunch break, she had snuck her sandwiches along with a small cup of tea into the suite, skirting the fatigued guards as they sat playing as many games of snap as they could.

On the first day she had read his chart. She knew most of the injuries, having seen them first hand in the OR; she had, however, learned his name and his age and part of her was almost brave enough to ask his entourage what he had been incarcerated for (they certainly seemed friendly enough) though, for now, she was happy to just put a name to the face.

James Fraser was just twenty-four. He had multiple lacerations to the back, sides and neck that had clearly been embedded into his flesh with something far more punishing than hands and feet -but nobody seemed to be talking abowere the level of brutality to which he’d been subjected. Her heart twinged at the thought and she developed a deeper affection for nurse Fitzgibbons who seemed to have silently realised that before anyone else.  His face had been swollen enough that one of his eyes wouldn’t have been open had he been conscious, his cheeks covered in mottled bruising.

On the second day she had taken some reading material to accompany her during her breaks. Continuing with her task, she read to herself at first, carrying her charity shop literary finds with her on her rounds before ducking in to sit for a while with young Mr Fraser. By the end of her working week she had taken to reading aloud much to the prison officers amusement.

“Do ye think Fraser can hear ye?” One had asked just as she’d gone to leave on the seventh day, just as her midweek weekend was about to begin.

Scratching her head she turned to glance at his much healed face. “He can hear, I’m sure of it.”

“How can ye tell?” The taller of the two men replied. “I used to read to my mam afore she passed. I hoped she could, but she never gave any signs that she did. It all felt a wee bit hopeless.”

It was the first hint at conversation any of the stationed guards had given making Claire late for clocking out as she placed her book back in her pocket and shrugged her shoulders. “He moves, shifts a little. And his mouth lifts as if he’s smiling. It’s happened a few times, but especially when I come to a funny part. His coma is induced though, and it’s light. He’s reacted more as the week has progressed so it gives me hope, it’s a sign that he’s fighting through the worst of it.”

The short, older of the guards scoffed, rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath before turning and walking away.

“I take it he isn’t fond of your charge?” She asked the remaining guard, the question she really wanted to ask burning holes into her tongue as she bit the inside of her mouth to stop herself from asking it.

Twisting to glance at his friend and colleague, he waited until he’d turned the corner to answer. “Nah, do you ken what he’s serving time for?”

Claire shook her head and took in a hefty gulp of air. Her heart was racing at a million miles per second, her palms sweating madly as she wiped them against the side of her scrubs.

“He assaulted a cop, someone close to him. Did a damn good job of it too, if you ask me. That’s how he came to such harm. Some of the guys, wrong as it may be, dinna take too kindly to prisoners who are guilty of hurting our own and although they don’t encourage inmate on inmate violence, they’re no’ exactly going to rush to their aid either.”

“What about you?” She asked, breathlessly, not knowing exactly what she was asking.

“Between you and me?” He returned, his voice lowering even further, waiting for her to signal her agreement before continuing. “The guy he’s supposed to have brought to harm isna a nice man, nor is he pleasant to work with. Not that he deserved it, o’ course, but on that alone I’m willing to suspend my own judgement on the poor guy. He’s serving his time, for better or for ill and I willna be a part of anything that sees any man left in this state.”

“Well, that’s good to hear.” Holding out her hand, she shook his firmly, passing him her pager number as she did so. “I’m Claire, Claire Beauchamp...and if anything happens whilst I’m away, or Doctor Bain comes back to bring him around, I’d be really grateful if you could give me a buzz, please?”

“Mackenzie,” he returned, placing the wee card in his top pocket and tapping it lightly as he smiled across at her, “Rupert to my friends. It’s lovely to meet ye, Claire. I’ll make sure I do.”

With that she waved a short goodbye and headed straight for the break room, her weary legs buckling as she pushed the heavy door and fell into the small space.

[aliciameade]

Head-First - Ch. 1

Title: Head-First Author: aliciameade Rating: M (eventually...) Pairing: Beca/Chloe Summary:  They’re lifeguards.

Also on AO3 & FFN

Beca isn’t the biggest fan of the sun. Or heat. Or sand. Or the outdoors, really, in general.

She muses over her situation while her eyes scan the shoreline and the rolling waves. Her whistle remains perpetually hanging from the corner of her mouth; she has to use it often. Teenage boys (and adult men, Beca thinks with disdain), are too often getting into trouble. They like to amp each other up, dare one another to prove how much of a man they are by doing things like seeing who can swim out the farthest, stay underwater the longest, and, in what is a very real risk, jump off the jetty that extends far into the ocean. It’s made of sharp, uneven rocks and is very clearly marked as off-limits.

Not that that stops the biggest idiots.

The fact that it extends some one hundred feet creates the assumption that the water at the end of it is sufficiently deep enough for diving. In reality, it’s no deeper there than it is ten feet from shore. She can still remember last summer when she had to trade off doing chest compressions on a seventeen-year-old male who dove in and nearly broke his neck with one of her fellow guards right there on the beach while they waited for the emergency vehicle.

He’d survived, and last she heard, he was up and walking again, but had gone through extensive surgeries and physical therapy to accomplish it. He’d later admitted he’d been dared to do it. The intended spoils? A case of Heineken.

It haunts her despite his recovery. The blood. The lifelessness. The blue of his lips. The crack of his sternum beneath her hands. She’d never had to do CPR on a real person before that day. Her training had taught her it wasn’t uncommon to happen, but she would never be able to erase that sound from her memory.

But he’d survived. She’d helped save someone’s life because her best friend talked her into taking the lifeguard test with the Parks and Recreation Department so they could have “sexy summer jobs that will let us meet all the hotties and get killer tans,” as Stacie had put it.

To her legitimate astonishment, she’d passed the test and went through the training program to come out a certified lifeguard. It seemed the clumsiness she’d experienced on land her entire life whenever she attempted some kind of sport didn’t exist in the water. She’d been one of the fastest swimmers in their recruitment class; it made her regret not having discovered the talent earlier.  She could have been a star on her high school’s swim team.

However, the concept of participating in organized athletics makes her want to vomit. So, that never would have happened.

Instead, she’s assigned to Tower 137 where she spends eight hours per day Wednesday through Sunday every summer for the past three years. Stacie had ended up assigned to 145, a solid mile down the coastline. It’s far enough that they can’t socialize beyond seeing each other at the top and bottom of their shifts in the station.

Given the circumstances, she figures that’s for the best.

When Stacie knows Beca has a crush, she can be insufferable. And four weeks ago, Beca made the fatal error of implying she found the newly assigned guard at 138 attractive. Their schedules are all the same and more than once, Beca’s had to change into her two-piece uniform standing next to 138, whose locker is, naturally, right next to Beca’s 137.

Since then, Beca’s made it a point to beat Stacie in and out of the locker room to avoid anything inappropriate her friend might want to try (something involving leering or really inappropriate comments, she assumes). It’s easy to do since Beca’s tower is much closer to the station.

Realizing she’s daydreaming instead of doing her job, she quickly scans the beach looking for the troublemakers she’s kept an eye on all day; they’d been drinking and she suspects they’re underage based on the enthusiasm of said drinking and though she hasn’t seen it, the distinct smell of marijuana has drifted from their area more than once. She’s not there to be law enforcement, but she does wish they’d make smarter choices. A beach rife with rip currents isn’t the best place to get drunk and high and then try to swim.

The group is gone from their homestead of towels, coolers, and umbrellas and she sits up on alert to squint through her sunglasses to locate them, and she knows exactly where to look.

She counts five heads bobbing in the water along the jetty; their group is seven and furtively, she waits for the other two to appear. When they do, it’s not in the water but atop the jetty, hopping from rock to rock, tottering dangerously off-balance with each landing.

She chirps her whistle once to get their attention. It goes ignored and she hears 138 do the same a few seconds later. 138 is on the opposite side of the jetty mirroring Beca’s stand. They’re both watching the situation and the boys who are ignoring them in favor of showing off for their buddies or girls on the beach. “Don’t do it. Don’t you dare fucking do it.”

She whistles again, twice this time, and signals with her hand to confirm 138 is indeed watching the same thing and she squints across the short distance and hears the reply whistles and matching hand signal.

The whistles aren’t doing a thing to stop the boys who’ve made it all the way to the end of the jetty. They’re acting like they’re ready to dive, arms windmilling about like they’re trying to be Michael Phelps.

“Shit,” she says, whipping off her sunglasses to drop them on her chair as she climbs down.

She hears 138’s three whistles and echoes them; they’re both out of their towers and heading into the water. She grabs one of the rescue cans waiting upright in the sand and throws the strap over her head as she starts running, having to weave around sunbathers oblivious to what’s about to happen.

She dives over the wave that rolls in once the water’s thigh-high and drops the float, towing it behind her as she swims out to sea. She’s made it half the length of the jetty when she sees one of them dive.

Fear slices through her, the trauma of last year roaring back to life, and then she’s on autopilot. Pulling and propelling herself forward. Past the boy’s friends who have yet to notice their buddy hasn’t surfaced. Past the end of the jetty where she’d seen him jump. She takes a breath and then dives down, struggling to see in the murky water. But then she finds him, unconscious, hovering just above the sea floor.

She kicks until she reaches him and it’s not until she has her arms under his that she realizes how big he is. It won’t be an issue to get him to the surface, but it will be a challenge to get him to shore.

She grabs him and pushes off the bottom, lifting him with ease until both their heads are above water.

“Can you hear me?” she asks as she begins kicking them back toward shore. She doesn’t expect a response and doesn’t receive one. “Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Stay with me, buddy.” She kicks harder and then a splash behind her gets her attention. She twists to look and sees another bright red can floating a few feet ahead.

“I’ll tow you in! Come on!”

She sees 138 on the other end, already turning to swim to shore and Beca adjusts the victim, shoving her own float under his heavy arms before throwing her hand out to catch the back of 138’s.

She kicks to help and once they’re shallow enough starts pushing along the bottom.

“Okay, I got his left. Ready?”

She looks up to see 138 crouching to get a hold of the young man and Beca gets her feet back under her to do the same. “Ready.”

They rush him to shore to lower him to the sand once out of the water’s reach.

Together, they run through First Aid procedures. His airway is clear, but he’s not breathing and Beca can’t find a pulse. A quick check of his eyes indicates he has likely not broken his neck; his pupils shrink in the bright sun.

“Breaths. Go!”

Beca uses the few seconds of 138 doing chest compressions to catch her own breath before it's her turn to lean down and try to breathe life back into the teenager.

She barely finishes her second exhale when he’s coughing and sputtering and rolling onto his side to vomit up seawater and beer.

She falls away, sitting hard on her ass in the sand as she watches him recover and only then takes notice of their audience. It seems half the beach is gathered around them, most of whom break out into whoops and cheers at his return to consciousness.

138 is across from her, breathing just as hard as she is, and smiles at Beca while paramedics take over.

“Beale, Mitchell. Great job.”

Beca looks up to see their superior, a tall blonde who loves her whistle a little too much for Beca’s liking, nodding down at them approvingly. She offers a hand next, pulling Beca to her feet, then 138.

“That was amazing teamwork. What do you think about putting a course together for multi-guard rescue?”

Beca’s still not quite breathing at her normal rate again and their Beach Captain is already asking her to do more work? “What do you mean, put a course together?” she says before taking another deep breath to get her heart rate to slow. “There’s a course already; I took it.”

“Yeah, me, too.” Beca glances at 138—Beale, apparently—and now that they’re not racing to save an idiot’s life, notices her attractiveness has been escalated significantly now that she’s soaking wet.

“The instructor put in her notice; comes with bonus pay and gets you off the beach two days a week.”

Beca glances at the redhead who’s looking at her much the same. She’s about to speak when she realizes they’re already communicating. How? She doesn’t know. But it feels like she can almost read her thoughts on the matter by sharing a look and they both nod.

“Okay, sure.”

“Yeah, totes. Sounds fun! Thanks, Bree!”

She can’t help but notice how not-exhausted and chipper 138 sounds after just saving a person’s life. Not that Beca’s unhappy with the outcome; she just doesn’t have the energy for it at the moment.

“I asked you not to call me that when we’re working,” their captain says through clenched teeth. 

“Oops! Sorry, Captain Posen. My bad.”

“Good. You’re both off-duty with pay for the rest of the day. Grab your gear and stop by my office and we’ll get it set up.”

The crowd is already dispersed by the time their short conversation ends. Even the emergency team is packed up and pulling out, their victim cleared and stumbling back toward their spot on the beach with the help of his friends. She accounts for all seven of them and is relieved when she remembers two had been up on the jetty ready to dive but only one had done so. Their captain is also departing, hopping into the small pickup truck with surfboards strapped to its roof to head back toward their station.

“I’m Chloe, by the way.”

Beca turns back and jumps a little at 138’s unexpected proximity. Her hands are on her hips and she’s smiling brightly and it’s all Beca can do to not let her eyes roam down over curves and water-hardened nipples and defined abs. “Beca.”

“I know.” Chloe holds out her hand for a shake and Beca accepts it and almost trips over her feet when she’s pulled in for a hug. “You were so awesome out there.”

“Um,” she stutters, feeling every square inch where their bodies are touching, most of it skin-to-skin and that which isn’t might as well be for how it feels, “thanks.”

“I’ve never had to do that before,” Chloe says as they part. Beca notices that while she’s not winded or seemingly tired, her face is flushed. “Not like that.”

Beca stoops to grab her can and starts winding up her line. “That’s a good thing.”

“Have you?” Chloe does the same and Beca wishes she had her sunglasses so she could stare at the way Chloe’s bicep flexes in the sun as she does so.

“A few times.” She’s still thinking about the boy last summer, the memories stirring up so fresh it’s as though it had just happened, that this rescue had been him, and that he hadn’t been as fortunate to get up and walk back with his friends.

“Maybe you can tell me about them some time? I’d love to hear your stories.”

“Yeah, maybe,” she answers noncommittally. She’s not sure that she really wants to revisit some of the stories, especially That One, but she doesn’t feel inclined to tell Chloe ‘no’ outright. “I’m going to go grab my stuff from my tower and head in. I guess I’ll see you...later?”

“Oh, definitely. See you later.”

~ ~ ~ ~

~ ~ ~ ~

Beca’s half-dressed in shorts and a bra sitting on the locker room bench when she’s startled out of her daze.

“Hoped I might see you back here.”

She looks up to see Chloe not even hesitate to pull her sports-style bikini top over her head and hang it on a hook in her locker. It’s a stark interruption after the darkness she was trying to shake when trying to figure out what to text Stacie to let her know she was finished for the day. The news of the rescue had surely made it to her by now and if the seven unread texts and two missed calls were anything to go by, Stacie was worried.

The greeting comes with a wink and Beca looks away hurriedly and back at her phone and in doing so, remembers she has yet to put on a shirt. She doesn’t reply to Stacie, and she doesn’t reply to Chloe; instead, she gets up to grab a tank top out of her bag to pull on over her head.

“I realized I don’t have your contact info or anything,” Chloe continues as if Beca’s engaged the conversation. “I mean, Bree will have it but I thought we should probably make a plan to get together.”

“What?” Beca says, looking up sharply after pulling her wet hair out of the back of her shirt.

Chloe’s legitimately nude save for the towel she has draped over her arm. She seems to lack all modesty. “We should start putting together our course right away.”

“Right,” Beca answers, focusing hard on staring at Chloe’s face.

“I’m going to take a quick rinse. Wait for me? We can go to Bree’s office together and go to my place and order pizza. I think we earned it today.”

“Bree, yeah,” Beca replies dumbly. 

Chloe responds with all Beca can describe as a happy squeak and a bounce that makes her try even harder to keep her eyes on her face and then Chloe’s around the corner and into the showers.

Beca releases the breath she didn’t realize she was holding and sinks back to the bench and finally thumbs open her phone to tap out a quick text.

“He’s okay,” she writes.

“What about you??” fires back immediately.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Smalls…”

“Boobs…” Beca replies with Stacie’s nickname in kind. “I said I’m fine. Cap is going to let us teach a course.”

“Us?”

“Me and 138.”

The words and emojis that come as a response are so lewd Beca actually clicks her phone to sleep until the messages cease. “I’m going to her place to start working on it today.”

More suggestiveness follows but Beca tolerates it; the humor is helping to dust away the darkness and anxiety that had been creeping up on her. “So don’t wait up for me. ;)” 

She mutes her phone knowing it’s about to blow up and laughs to herself. Stacie is something else when she thinks someone is going to get laid, and she wouldn’t change a thing about her.

Not that Beca’s going to get laid any time soon.

~ ~ ~ ~

~ ~ ~ ~

“Ham and pineapple,” Beca answers from her spot on Chloe’s couch. She’s trying to not be too obvious about looking around the place to learn more about who Chloe is. At the moment, she’s on the pizzeria’s website ordering their dinner and she squeals at Beca’s response.

“You like pineapple on your pizza!”

“Yeah, dude,” Beca says with nervous laughter thanks to the sudden outburst. “Who doesn’t?”

“Weirdos, that’s who.” Chloe says it as though the division between pineapple-on-pizza lovers and anti-pineapple-on-pizza people is a matter of political diplomacy as she finishes ordering and sets aside her computer. “Okay, thirty-to-forty minutes.”

“Cool.” She shifts and twists to face Chloe better where she sits on the opposite end of the couch. “So, I have no idea how to put a lifesaving course together. Thought I should be upfront with you about that.”

Chloe laughs and it’s filled with such amusement it’s contagious and Beca can’t help but smile. “Well,” Chloe starts after the laughter, “it looks like the course is pretty much laid out already.” She pulls the binder off the coffee table they’d been given by their boss and puts it on the empty cushion between them. She opens it and flips through the pages full of illustrations, tables, and step-by-step instructions. “Bree just needs us to teach it, not write it.”

“Wait, you call her Bree?” Beca finally asks; she’d been meaning to earlier but there hadn’t been a good moment to do so.

“Duh! She’s my best friend.”

“You’re best friends with our boss?”

“No, my best friend is our boss,” Chloe corrects. “An important distinction. We were guards together.”

“Posen’s been my captain since I started; how long have you been doing this?”

Chloe thinks about it for a few seconds. “This is my fourth year, but Bree started as a junior lifeguard so she had the jump on me and got the promotion.”

Beca doesn’t really care about when or how her boss joined the crew. “Wait, you’ve been doing this for four years?”

Chloe nods.

“How have I never seen you until this season?”

“How can you be so sure you haven’t?”

“I think I’d remember.” Beca says it without thinking and only when the words are out does she realize they are a blatant pickup line. She’d apologize if Chloe didn’t immediately break into a grin.

“I used to be up north. When Bree got reassigned to Barden Beach for this season, she brought me down with her.”

It’s a straightforward explanation that doesn’t leave any open ends for natural follow-up conversation and Beca struggles to think of something to say.

“Let’s go through the first chapter, hmm?” Chloe continues and Beca’s relieved that she’s comfortable steering the conversation.

Beca scoots over a little to see the pages better and notices Chloe doing the same. “Cool, yeah.”

“For the record,” Chloe says absently while they both scan the first page, “I’d remember if I saw you, too.”

Beca blushes so hard she feels like her face is on fire but Chloe never looks up from the binder; she is, however, wearing a very small, soft smile on her lips.

_______________________________________________________________________

“Tell me everything,” Stacie says the second Beca’s through the front door.

Beca rolls her eyes. “Nothing happened.”

“Something happened. I can tell.”

“Dude,” Beca laughs while she kicks off her slides and pulls her still-damp suit out of her bag with intent to go rinse it out in the bathroom sink and hang it to dry. “I’m serious.”

“But you’re, like, glowing.”

Beca shakes her head and makes a beeline for the bathroom.

It wasn’t not nothing that happened. They’d studied the first three chapters until Beca yawned, then Chloe yawned. They agreed to call it a night and made plans to meet up again on Friday after their shift. Chloe walked her to the door and, in parting, leaned in and kissed Beca’s cheek.

That’s all it was, but she’d lingered a second longer than necessary and her hand had squeezed Beca’s and she’d whispered, “Goodnight,” so sweetly Beca finally understood what it meant to feel butterflies.

Stacie’s already staring at her when she returns as though she hadn’t looked away the entire duration of Beca’s absence. “Tell me.”

“Nothing happened!” she says with a laugh and she knows she’s being too defensive by the way Stacie narrows her eyes and cocks an eyebrow at her. “Okay, fine: she kissed me. On the cheek! On the cheek!” she adds vehemently when Stacie leaps off the couch and barrels into her to pick her up and twirl her in a circle.

“I knew it!”

“Put me down!” she shrieks, kicking her legs to try to free herself.

Stacie returns her to the ground after another spin. “You dog.”

“Literally, no.” She dusts herself off indignantly and moves out of her reach to help herself to a beer from the fridge.

Stacie flops back onto the couch. “But you got her to kiss you.”

“I didn’t get her to do anything.” Beca tosses the bottle cap in the trash before using her foot to push Stacie’s legs off her side of the couch. “It’s not a big deal and doesn’t have to mean anything.” She’d like to think it meant something, but she doesn’t want Stacie building it up for her only for it to end in disappointment; she’s doing a fine enough job of that on her own.

“You see her at the station; she’s just super friendly.”

“Oh, I’ve seen her at the station all right,” Stacie says and it’s so dirty Beca feels like she needs a shower. “She’s never given me much more than the time of day, though. Seems her attention is usually on you.”

She hides her blush behind a swig of beer. “Shut up. It is not...is it?”

“Oh yeah,” Stacie leers at her. “I started paying attention when you told me you had a boner for her.”

“Stacie!” Beca grimaces. “Can you not? That’s gross. I don’t have a—a boner for her.”

“Well, you might not have one on you, but I know for a fact you have one in your dresser.” Stacie jerks her thumb over her shoulder toward Beca’s bedroom.

Beca pulls her knees up to her chest so she can let her face fall to them. “Remind me again why I’m friends with you?”

“Because I’m awesome.” 

When Beca flicks her eyes up she’s unsurprised to see Stacie grinning proudly. “Whatever.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll drop it for now. Tell me about your rescue today? If you want to.” Stacie’s change in topic is welcomed, especially with how casual it is.

“Yeah, I can tell you about it.” Beca lifts her head and can tell Stacie has well and true let the topic of Chloe-as-a-romantic-interest go for the time being.

~ ~ ~ ~

~ ~ ~ ~

To be continued...

[macybeckham7]

Hot Medic - Jesse Lingard

"Y/n! Just the girl I'm looking for!" A familiar voice appeared infront of me.

I looked up from my patients notes to Clive one of the paramedics.

"Clive"

Doctor Roberts appeared beside me which made the mid-30 year old turn his attention from me to the five foot doctor.

"I am in need for someone to pair up with me today, and I was wondering if I could borrow Y/n" he smirked.

Doctor Roberts looked at me. "Well I don't see why not, we are very much covered on the ward" he gave me a soft smile before stealing my tablet and files.

Clive gave me a cheeky smile before highfiving me, he started pushed the bed along the corridor with me following hot on his tail.

I've been apart of the paramedic team before and I got such a thrill from it, it's so different working on the ward. You have to have your wits about you and be able to handle whatever you've been pushed into. It's more of a one to one working schedule, rather than with a massive team.

I grabbed a medic jacket and jumped in the passenger side, Clive instantly pulled out of the hospital complex slowly as I tuned the radio in trying to find the tunes, as it was of course on the sport station due to the lack of females usually here.

"Why are we at a football ground?" I questioned looking up at the largely frightening stadium.

"Cause we are based here for the Manchester derby" he announced as feisty fans started hitting the van chanting.

We safely got to the car park area where the team buses go for the players to enter the stadium. I looked at Clive who mirrored a young child who had just been told they are going to meet their hero's.

I jumped out the car and grabbed my bag throwing it over my shoulder and following the security guard. Clive was walking at a snails pace as he practically drooled over everything. As we walked out at the stadium I could see it was already half filled up, I noticed each side warming up. My eyes wandered over them all but the only ones I really recognised was Marcus Rashford and that was only because I went to school with him. As you can probably tell I'm not the biggest football fan.

"Why are you so happy to be here? Wouldn't you rather throw yourself into the deep end, feel that adrenaline rush?" I questioned as I placed my bag down on the seat.

"Oh come on, this is a great way to spend a work day on a Saturday, we are honestly getting paid to watch a football match"

I raised a brow at him, as I pulled on my plastic gloves. "Wait? You're not hoping that one of these highly paid athletes don't hurt themselves?"

"No?"

"Wouldn't you want to see blood gushing out of someone's head or a bone sticking out of a leg?"

He shook his head as he sat down. "Just sit down, let's loosen up  and enjoy this absolute belter"

I let out a dramatic sigh and sat beside him, which gained a small smile from him.

My eyes wandered back to Marcus who was mainly stood speaking to a guy who looked a lot like the same age. His hair was a little longer, with a smaller frame. He was kind of good looking as he laughed at something Marcus said as they nearly fell over while a tall olive skinned guy with a ponytail stared them down like they were morons.

......

The game so far has been rather uneventful in Y/n's eyes whereas there has been three goals with City winning by one goal. Y/n noticed as the time went on Clive was getting more and more quieter as his body tensed up.

United won the ball back by a small player with the number eight shirt, he kicked the ball which fell to Marcus' friend who I've learnt is named  Jesse. He controlled the ball and ran along side the lines man, suddenly a bald guy crashed into him harshly which made him go flying off the pitch and into the advertising board.

"Oh shit" I gasped as the home crowd went crazy at the player and the ref.

I grabbed my green bag and rushed along the touchline with Clive in tow. I was the first one over to him who was now being tended to by Marcus.

"Jesse, Hi." Clive smiled down at the midfielder.

I gave him a look before I looked down at him. "Can you tell me where it hurts" I smiled.

"Ah fuck man. My shoulder" he groaned.

"Ok try not to move it for me" I explained.

I peered at his shoulder and instantly noticed it has popped out of the socket, I gave Clive the look which he instantly knew and radioed to the United staff who were in their technical area.

"Holy shit, you're Y/n" Marcus suddenly announced.

Jesse looked from me to Marcus to Clive probably wondering how he was surrounded by idiots.

"Jesse" I spoke calmly.

"Yes princess" he smiled.

"We are going to have to pop your shoulder back in, but if you keep making those comments I'll damage your other shoulder" I spoke softly.

Marcus let out a child like giggle before he took a swig of his water before walking off.

"I thought you medics are supposed to be caring" he pouted. "I mean if I was dying I wouldn't mind seeing your face last" He winked.

I fake gagged before standing up and grabbing my bag before both Clive and I helped the young Mancunian back to his feet. I wrapped my arm around him, which made him give another snide comment. I was so tempted to leave him but as he was walking gingerly and the whole stadium was watching I couldn't.

We took him to the emergency room, we told him what we needed to do to him and I could see the colour wash from his face.

"Here suck on this" I smiled handing him over the oxygen pipe.

"That's what she said" he mumbled before inhaling.

I started speaking to Clive as we watched him get high so he wouldn't feel the pain. Once I thought he was slightly out of it I made my over to him and took a look at his shoulder.

"You're too pretty to be a medic" he giggled. "Isn't she pretty" He turned his attention to Clive.

I looked over at him as he nodded his head. I rolled my eyes at him as I closed my eyes and tried to feel his shoulder.

"Hey, why don't you let me take you out and show you a good time" he spoke in a joking manner.

"How about you let us sort out your arm" I suggested.

I nodded over at Clive who instantly took hold of Jesse's arm.

"How about you let me take you for dinner once your shift ends" he rambled. "I know the best place, you'll love it doll face" he smiled up at me.

"I've got a long day and I've only just met you, so I highly doubt you know what I'll like, doll face" I sassed.

Before he could answer I pushed his shoulder back in place as Clive pulled his arm. He let out a grunt but instantly gained composure.

"Nice one" I smiled as I patted his shoulder. "Our work here is done sunshine" I smiled at him as I snatched the oxygen off him.

Clive started bandaging up his shoulder as I started cleaning up.

"Ok I'm done now mate"

Finally I can get out of here.

"You know you're a lot more friendly than doll face over there" He smirked.

I rolled my eyes at him. "I swear to god..."

"How about I get a photo with you?" Clive suggested cutting me off.

I silently begged that he was dickhead and denied it. He looked over at me for a second before standing up.

"Only if you give me the hot medics number"

"Deal" he shouted before I could get a word on edge ways.

He instantly pushed his phone to me which I snapped a photo of them together. I throw the phone back at Clive before rushing out the room and back to pitch level, because let's face it I don't want to miss out on anyone getting injured.

.......

I had just hopped out of the shower and put my pyjamas on, I stuck a microwave dinner in which had just pinged off. I sat on the sofa and watched some Strictly Come Dancing before I got distracted by my phone pinging off.

I aimlessly reached for it and noticed it was a text from an unknown number, I hesitantly opened it to find a text that read:

????: I'm really hoping this is the hot medic from earlier. I just want to apologise for whatever I said.

Me: The 'hot' medic has a name, doll face

????: Well if you told me then I could call you it instead of nicknames 😉 Can I take you out for a drink to apologise

Me: no

????: Y/n....

Me; Let me guess Clive told you

???: Yep and I'm also outside, so come out and let me take you out

Me: bullshit

????: truth

I jumped up and peered through my window and sure another he was stood leaning on his car giving me a wave. I silently cursed Clive as I texted him telling him to give me ten minutes before I rushed towards my bedroom.

This going to be a long night!