#immortalstrand

[firstprince-history-huh]

I've Grown Accustomed To His Face - immortalstrand - 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020) [Archive of Our Own]

[rafael-silva]

Ronen out here being a mood and praising Rafa and his talent INSTAGRAM LIVE ON MARCH 11, 2021

#ronen rubinstein #rrubinsteinedit #ronenrubinsteinedit #911 lone star #userjilly #userthai #userkimmy #ronenrubinstein #usersamanne #userjillian #tuserpaige #tuserjamie #usersimona #tuserems #userelisha #tuserria #immortalstrand #tusercece #userdaniel #*gif #i have been thinking about this since last night #RAFA NATION RISE #lead by ro #and also that ro acknowledged rafa's lack of screentime #everthing ronen said is a mood

[detectivereyes]

Breakdown of screen time for season 2, episode 8 “Bad Call”

season 1 data here | season 2 data here

no thoughts just 😊😊😊😊😊😊😊

look at our son!!! he OWNED this episode and i couldn't be more proud

i honestly don't even want to talk about anything else. just that our boy officer carlos reyes got more screen time than ANYONE else, including THE owen strand. it's time to celebrate lads.

needless to say, this is by far the most screen time carlos has ever gotten

this is also the least amount of screen time that judd, paul, and mateo have gotten, and marjan tied her previous lowest record.

but i don't want to talk about that

carlos!!!!!!!!!!!!!

also recurring characters for season 2 will be out sometime this week...

i will also post the totals for 2A (episodes 1-8) either today or tomorrow

Averages - significant changes bolded, and colored red or green for - or + respectively

Season 2

Owen 8.25 (-0.108), Tommy 4.688 (-0.062), TK 4.688 (+0.188), Marjan 3.094 (-0.37), Paul 2.969 (-0.317), Judd 2.875 (-0.232), Carlos 2.094 (+0.952), Mateo 2.063 (-0.223), Grace 2.063 (-0.008)

Series

Owen 9.403 (-0.112), TK 5.083 (+0.054), Tommy 4.688 (-0.062, Judd 4.083 (-0.167), Paul 3 (-0.132), Marjan 2.986 (-0.146), Grace 2.222 (-0.013), Mateo 2.194 (-0.1), Carlos 1.972 (+0.398)

#911 lone star #911 lone star spoilers #screen time #season 2 screen time #infographic #userjillian #usermaximus #tuserpaige #userjilly #userac #immortalstrand #vividblues262

[marjansmarwani]

take it, it’s yours

2k || ao3

One of the ways TK shows love is through tchotchkes, Carlos learns.

A bit of cute softness for the lovely and wonderful @justaswampdemon on her birthday. Happy birthday my dear, thanks for being someone I can yell about everything from these characters to tea to life in general with. I hope you enjoy this little story from your headcanon 💗

-----------

“TK?” 

“Yeah, babe?” He hears his boyfriend call from the other room.

“What is this?” 

“What’s…” TK asks with a frown as he turns to the kitchen, confusion fleeing his face as he sees what Carlos is holding, “oh.”

Carlos simply raises an eyebrow and places the blue-green ladle on the counter as TK approaches, looking at his boyfriend expectantly. 

“It’s a ladle,” TK provides helpfully as he approaches. 

“I can see that,” Carlos deadpans. “Why does it have a face and why is it in my kitchen?” 

“It’s Nessie!” TK declares as if it should be obvious, “See?” 

He picks up the ladle and sets it upright so it stands on its own. “When it’s in a pot, the face and neck stick out,” he explains, “like the Loch Ness Monster.” 

Carlos nods slowly, looking from the ladle in question to his boyfriend. TK’s face falls. 

“You don’t like it,” he says, reaching for the ladle, “I’ll get rid of it. I’m sorry, I should have asked first.” 

Carlos reaches out a hand to stop him, covering the hand now clutching the ladle with his own, “I didn’t say that.” 

TK looks at him hopefully and Carlos smiles, “I think it’s cute, and I love the fact that you got it for me. Plus, it is pretty practical. You can never have too many ladles.”

“Are you sure? You don’t have to keep it if you don’t want to. I can get rid of it.” 

“Don’t you talk about Nessie that way,” Carlos interrupts, leaning forward to pull TK into a kiss. “She’s not going anywhere, and neither are you.” 

--------

It’s small things here and there, after that. One of those little figurines from the tea boxes on the window sill, small figurines and vases. He doesn’t question it much until one day he walks in the door and goes to dump his keys into the dish beside the door only to find what looks like a pinecone with eyes glued on staring back at him. 

“Hey babe,” TK calls out from the kitchen, where he is already in the process of plating up the takeout he had picked up on his way, “food’s almost ready to go.” 

Carlos nods and is about to thank him for picking it up, or maybe ask him how his day was, but all that comes out when he opens his mouth is a question, “Why is there a pinecone looking at me from the table?” 

TK freezes, brow furrowing in confusion before realization dawns. “Well first off, it’s not a pinecone Carlos, it’s a hedgehog.” 

“Uh huh,” Carlos agrees skeptically, peering back down at the item in question. “And why is there a hedgehog on the table?” 

“Because I saw it when I was out with Marjan today and thought it was cute. Why?” he asks, voice shifting, “Do you not like it? I can get rid of it if you don’t, I should’ve asked first, I’m…” 

But Carlos shook his head, dropping his bag by the door and crossing to the kitchen, coming up beside TK. He reached out and put a hand on his face, gently turning it so he was meeting Carlos’s gaze. 

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it TK,” he assures him softly, “and you don’t need to get rid of it. Take a breath, it’s okay.” 

He waits for TK to do so, watching as the panic leaves his expression. “Do you want to tell me what’s really going on?” he asks gently, moving his hand from TK’s face to his waist. 

“Nothing,” he says at first but at Carlos’s raised eyebrows he rolls his eyes. “Fine, something, but it’s stupid.” 

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that,” Carlos offers and TK sighs. 

“I don’t want you to think I’m overstepping,” TK admits. “I know I bring little things in from time to time and you don’t seem to mind but every once in a while I start to wonder again. It’s just something my mom and I always had in common. She used to love picking up little funny or cute things, and it became something we did together. My dad never liked clutter - well, he still doesn’t, actually - but he used to always complain about my mom and her tchotchkes and so I would always just keep them in my room instead and I just don’t want you to ever feel like I’m taking advantage, or cluttering your house or…”

“Hey,” Carlos interjects, interrupting the spiral he could see starting. “I don’t think that, any of it. I love that you bring little things here, that you are adding little bits of yourself. It makes it feel a little bit more like our home, doesn’t it?”

He pauses, giving TK a chance to process his choice of words, and is rewarded by his eyes widening. He smiles and leans forward, pressing a kiss to TK’s cheek. “This is your home too TK,” he tells him, “in whatever capacity you want it to be. And yeah, if it starts to look like a roadside gift shop in here, we may have to have a talk about the...what was that word you used?” 

“Tchotchkes,” TK provides, “it means trinket, or knick-knack.” 

“Right,” Carlos agrees, “but a few of them? I kind of love them because it brings a little more life, and shows me that you feel at home here. Not to mention the fact that they make you happy, and I can put up with a few pinecones looking at me if it makes you happy.”

“It’s a hedgehog, Carlos,” TK tries to gripe, but the light in his eyes betrays him, “it’s cute and it’s seasonal.”

“And it makes you happy, which is all I ever want,” Carlos agrees, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Besides, I never said I didn’t like it. It’s cute, actually.” 

--------

Carlos has a theory. 

He’s read about love languages and he knows that TK’s is physical touch, without a doubt. Not even in a sexual way; he just likes being close to Carlos, having a physical reminder that he is there, that he is real. It reveals itself in hand holding and hugs and small touches as they pass each other whether it's in the field or at home. He’s just very tactile, and Carlos loves that about him (it’s one of about roughly 230 things, but still). 

But the more and more he has watched him and spent time with him, he decides that TK has more than one. He’s not sure if it qualifies as gift giving or if it is a category all of its own but there is no denying that TK loves to give small gifts to his friends. The first time he notices is when they are out, strolling through a flea market on Saturday morning. They’re walking hand in hand when their progress is abruptly halted by TK, who stops and turns to a table to their right. He picks up a small figurine (Carlos would be lying if he said he had the faintest idea what it was actually supposed to be) with a grin and politely asks the vendor for a price. He hands over the few dollars requested with a smile and a thanks before pocketing the figurine and moving on. 

Carlos can only watch, catching up to him a few moments later, giving him a questioning look when TK meets his eyes. “For Marjan,” he explains, smiling as he reaches out to take Carlos’s hand in his again, “she’ll think it’s funny.” 

And so she does, as Carlos  finds out when she shows up at the condo later that evening. Her bright laugh draws the attention of the others and she beams at them as she shows them the small figurine - a crocodile for the native Floridian, Carlos and the others are informed -  squeezing TK’s arm in thanks as she flashes a smile at him. 

It doesn’t stop there. From time to time small and strange objects filter through the condo on their way to their intended owners. A book on cryptids for Paul, a set of exaggerated cartoonish Texas-themed salt and pepper shakers for Judd, a disgruntled cat figurine for Nancy; an inexplicable purple pig for Mateo that TK refuses to explain. They become a part of their everyday and Carlos stops noticing them, after a while. They are a part of who TK is and a testament to the love and care he has for others and the joy he takes from making them happy. 

And if that means he finds the odd figurine on the counter from time to time, Carlos will happily take that in stride. 

When TK officially moves in there is surprisingly not an influx in tchotchkes in the condo. Though Carlos supposes it had been a gradual invasion anyways; and if he had maybe purchased the matching Nessie pasta spoon and tea steeper on his own, nobody was the wiser. It’s normal now for there to be a new and unexplained small object on the edge of the counter or on the table beside the door so when Carlos sees a small object on the counter when he comes home from work on TK’s day off, he thinks nothing of it. 

It’s not until TK emerges from upstairs and they exchange greetings that he gives it a second thought because TK keeps giving it furtive looks. After a few minutes of TK’s gaze drifting towards it as they spoke Carlos raises an eyebrow. 

“Care to share with the class?” he asks drily and TK starts, looking at Carlos in surprise before his gaze turns sheepish. He reaches around him to the counter and picks up the newest tchotchke, placing it in Carlos’s hand. 

“It’s cheesy,” he starts, covering Carlos’s palm with his hand to prevent Carlos from looking at it as he spoke, “but I saw it while I was running errands today and it made me think of you. And well...I just wanted you to have a physical reminder, in case I don’t say it enough.”

Carlos studies him, gaze curious as he looks down at their hands, TK’s still covering his own and whatever the small, metal object was. TK takes a deep breath and moves his hand, giving Carlos a look at the mysterious object. 

“I know it’s stupid,” he began, “but I just wanted you to remember, you know? My heart is yours, and it always will be.” 

Carlos hears the words his boyfriend is saying, but he finds that he can’t respond. The sight of the object laying on his palm - a small, gold skeleton key with a heart on the end - has stolen all the breath from his lungs and all the words from his mind. The only thing within him now is the sense of overwhelming love for the man before him, who is watching him nervously. 

“You don’t have to do anything with it,” TK was saying as he fiddled with the strings of his hoodie. “You don’t even have to keep it if you don’t want to. I just saw it and...it seemed right.” 

TK was looking at him again and Carlos hated that he was leaving him hanging. He didn’t want the other man to get the wrong idea, but he was too overwhelmed to speak. So he did the next best thing. He reached for TK, key still clutched in his hand, and gently tipped his face up from where he was anxiously studying his feet so that their eyes met. He hoped TK could see the depth of the emotions he was feeling in them, but just in case he pulled him into a kiss, doing his best to say what words had failed to express. 

That kiss turned into another and it was several minutes before they separated long enough to breathe, and speak. And in that moment, foreheads pressed together in their kitchen and a small gold key pressed into Carlos’s palm that words finally returned to him. 

“You have mine too,” he told TK softly. “You have since the day I met you, and it’s yours for as long as you want.”

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #my writing #userkimmy #userac #userjilly #userbones #tuserpaige #tuserjamie #immortalstrand #reyeslonestartag #maizsnex #hierophvnts #reyesstrand

[911lonestarscreentime]

Breakdown of screen time for season 2, episode 9 “Saving Grace”

season 1 data here | season 2 data here

*please do not repost without credit!*

thoughts and analysis below the cut

so so happy for how much screen time judd got!! he has beaten the record for more screen time for a one a character in an episode, previously held by owen for the pilot episode (around 21 minutes)

speaking of... this is the least amount of screen time owen has ever gotten

also the least amount for tk, marjan, and paul, as well as for carlos and mateo who tied their previous lowest record.

and it's the most grace as ever gotten!

there's really not much to say, the results kind of speak for themselves lmao

Season 2 averages:

Owen 7:30 minutes (-45 seconds), Judd 5 minutes (+2:15 minutes), Tommy 4:30 minutes (-15 seconds), TK 4:15 minutes (-30 seconds), Grace 3 minutes (+45 seconds), Marjan 2:45 minutes (-15 seconds), Paul 2:45 minutes (-15 seconds), Carlos 2 minutes (-15 seconds), Mateo 2 minutes (-15 seconds)

Series averages

Owen 9 minutes (-30 seconds), Judd 5 minutes (+1 minute), TK 4:45 minutes (-15 seconds), Tommy 4:30 minutes (-15 seconds), Paul 2:45 minutes (-15 seconds), Marjan 2:45 minutes (-15 seconds), Grace 2:45 minutes (+30 seconds), Mateo 2 minutes (n/a), Carlos 2 minutes (n/a)

feel free to send any asks with thoughts and questions! i love discussing the data more :)

#911 lone star #911 lone star spoilers #screen time #season 2 #main #2.09 #userjillian #usermaximus #tuserpaige #userjilly #userac #immortalstrand #vividblues262

[morganaspendragonss]

For Tarlos because I love one of them protecting the other:

94) “Get under the bed and don’t make a sound okay?” “But they’ll get you.” “Just get under the bed and no matter what you hear or what you see just stay completely quiet and completely still. Do that for me, alright?”

thank you so much for this prompt, karen, i’m so sorry that it took so long to write! i hope you enjoy it!

@911lonestarangstweek day 6: Off the job injury + “You’ve got to be more careful.”

ao3 | 1.3k | tw mentions of gun violence and home invasion

“Get under the bed and don’t make a sound, okay? I’ll be back soon.”

“But they’ll get you.”

“Just get under the bed and, no matter what you hear or what you see, just stay completely quiet and completely still. Do that for me, alright?”

“No, wait, Carlos -”

*

It’s been a week since their home was broken into. 

TK has spent that entire time going over the events of that night in his head, trying to work out what he could have done better. He knows it’s a stupid thing to be doing - he’s sure his therapist will have a field day with it when all this is cover - but he’s going stir crazy stuck in this room all day, waiting for a sign that his world isn’t about to collapse around him.

It’s all just so, so wrong. Carlos is the steady one, the one who doesn’t take unnecessary risks, who doesn’t end up in a hospital bed ten times a month. Yet, here they are, the heart monitor the only indication that he’s not yet gone.

TK squeezes Carlos’s hand again, praying that, this time, he’ll get one in return. But it doesn’t come, and TK still hasn’t learned to deal with the grief and disappointment he feels in that moment. 

It’s his fault, he knows this. He should have held on tighter when Carlos snuck out of their room to see what was going on. He should have followed him, should have taken the bullet that might still end Carlos’s life. He should be the one lying in the hospital bed; he’s been shot before, after all, and what’s one more scar to add to the list?

Tears build in his eyes and TK does his best to blink them back, not willing to let go of Carlos to wipe them away. He’d thought he’d have run out by now; indeed, the first couple of days, he had been completely numb once the initial sobbing was over, just staring down at the love of his life and stupidly thinking about how they were going to miss their dinner reservation the next night.

How trivial all that seems now. TK’s not even sure a world exists outside this room anymore.

He clears his throat and leans forward, resting his elbows on the edge of the bed. “Hey, babe,” he whispers, kissing the back of Carlos’s limp hand. “So, it’s been a week, and I’m wondering if maybe you could think about waking up for me? Seven days is long enough to sleep, right? I just wanna see your eyes again, you know how much I love them.”

TK sighs, scanning Carlos’s face for non-existent movement. He swallows back the lump in his throat and sniffs loudly, shaking his head. “I’m really angry at you, you know?” he says, a little louder now. “I’m fucking furious. I’m sure you’d have a few choice words to say about hypocrisy and my own hospital stays if you were awake, but the point is that you aren’t, Carlos. You aren’t, and I’m so mad at you for doing this to me.” A small, almost hysterical, laugh rips out of him. “Isn’t that selfish? You’re the one in a coma, and I’m still thinking about myself. Not that there’s anything ground-breaking about that; I guess I’ve always been the selfish one in this relationship.

“I know you like to protect people, babe, but you’ve got to be more careful. And, yeah, I’m one to talk, yadda, yadda - but, seriously, Carlos, you weren’t even armed. You should have stayed with me - I told you to stay with me. You don’t know, maybe they wouldn’t have bothered us in the bedroom. You didn’t need to get shot, and I’m angry at you and at me and at the people who broke into our home because I can’t lose you.”

He heaves a sob, closing his eyes and folding in on himself, keeping Carlos’s hands in a death grip. He can’t - he won’t - lose him. 

“You better open those eyes soon,” he chokes out, “because I’ll never forgive you if you leave. Never, you hear me? Please wake up, Carlos.”

*

It takes three more days.

TK is bent over the bed, head resting next to Carlos’s on the pillow as he desperately fights off sleep, when there’s a flicker. It’s brief, barely there at all, and TK would have missed it had it not been for the laser focus he’s had on Carlos ever since the incident.

But Carlos’s face twitches, TK is sure of it, and he shoots up instantly, heart in his mouth.

“Carlos?” he whispers, hardly daring to breathe.

There’s no movement for another agonising few seconds, then, all of a sudden, Carlos jerks, eyes flying open. He gasps, wildly looking around the room until his gaze lands on TK, who is still frozen in shock. 

They just stare at each other for a while, TK drinking in the sight before him as he tries to get his brain to catch up on what just happened. He’s been hoping for this moment for well over a week, but he can hardly believe it now.

Then, “TK?” Carlos says, voice weak and confused, and TK snaps out of his fog.

He only barely manages to stop himself from falling on Carlos, instead taking his face in his hands and pressing kiss after kiss on every available inch of skin. He doesn’t even realise he’s crying until Carlos has a hand on his chest, gently pushing him away.

“TK,” he repeats, stronger this time. “You’re scaring me, what’s going on?”

TK slumps back into the seat next to the bed, pushing the heels of his hands into his eyes to stem the flow of tears. Stars dance in his vision when he looks back to Carlos, but he blinks them away impatiently, not wanting to let his fiancé out of his sight again.

“Do you remember the night of the break-in?”

Carlos tilts his head in a so-so motion. “Some of it,” he says. “I remember hearing the noises, telling you to hide, leaving the bedroom. Nothing after that.”

TK nods, sighing through his nose. “They shot you,” he says quietly. “You’ve been asleep for over a week. I thought… I was told that you…” He closes his eyes, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. You’re awake now, and that’s all that counts.”

Carlos is silent for a long time, and TK is startled to see tears on his cheeks when he opens his eyes again. He stands, hands flitting anxiously over his body. “Are you okay?” he demands. “Are you in pain? Should I call the doctor - fuck I should have already done that, hang on.”

He reaches for the call button, but he’s stopped by Carlos’s hand wrapped around his wrist, grip surprisingly strong. “Look at me, Ty,” Carlos asks gently. When TK does, he smiles sadly. “I’m sorry. I -”

“No.” TK pulls out of his grip, running a hand through his hair. “No, you don’t apologise. You don’t get to apologise, not when you almost died. This isn’t… No. No.”

He grits his teeth against the sudden wave of emotion, swiping his hands furiously under his eyes. He won’t cry again; he has to be strong now. He has to be the steady one, for once, and he’ll be damned if he lets Carlos down again.

“If you’d let me finish,” Carlos says after a while, “I was going to say that I know how it feels to see someone you love like this. I know how painful it is. And, though I know it wasn’t my fault - or yours, I know you’ve been blaming yourself - I am sorry. I hate that you had to go through this.”

TK wants to argue, but he doesn’t have any more words left in him. Tears slide down his cheeks as he keeps shaking his head, finding himself unable to stop. 

“I’m sorry,” he sobs. “I’m so sorry, Carlos. I was so scared that I would lose you; you’ve got to promise me something.”

Carlos frowns. “Anything.”

“Promise me that you’ll be more careful?”

There’s a beat, then, “Of course, but don’t you think that’s a little rich coming from you?”

And, for the first time in over a week, TK laughs.

#911lsangstweek #911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #tk strand #carlos reyes #tk x carlos #911ls #lone star #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #immortalstrand #userjillian #tuserjamie #userkimmy #tuserpaige #reyeslonestartag #tuserjenny

[reyeslonestar]

points of contact

1x02

#tarlos points of contact #userkimmy #tuserjamie #userjillian #useramyj #howlingsaturn #immortalstrand #tarlos #911 lone star #tk strand #carlos reyes #tk x carlos #my art #reyeslonestar #911ls #tarlos art #tarlos fanart #911 lone star art #911 lone star fanart #reyeslonestara

[gayshrug]

all dressed in radiant colors

carlos reyes/ tk strand, teen+, 1k, ao3 for @immortalstrand

Prompt: "Is that my shirt?" - "You mean our shirt?"

Or: Carlos is confronted with the fact that he might've been holding back a little, and TK's a chef.

“Baby…”, Carlos mumbled, hand trying to seek out TK’s warmth beside him. To no avail. Eyes still bleary with sleep, he stroked over the covers and crawled closer to the edge of the bed – almost tumbling off before catching himself and falling back into the pillow closest to him, face-first. The fabric was cool to the touch by now but still smelled like TK, like home. Carlos groaned, yearning.

That was new – Carlos being the last one to wake up. Usually, he had to tease TK awake, nudge him for minutes at a time, whisper sweet nothings into his ear, all for the sake of not getting hit in the balls. TK was useless in the mornings, clinging to sleep with all he had and ready to fight anyone who came between him and those sweet extra minutes of unconsciousness.

Skeptical of what the change in routine could mean, Carlos took his time getting up. He didn’t bother to get dressed, instead trudging into the bathroom naked. No need for clothes, considering he’d just take them off in a minute anyway.

He opted for brushing his teeth under the shower spray to preserve water and immediately regretted it – toothpaste clinging to his toes where he’d carelessly let it drop from his mouth. Michelle would laugh at him for copying the behavior he’d bemoaned about TK in the past, he knew. But fuck it. Nobody needed to know.

Toweling himself dry took longer than usual, Carlos distracted by his attempts at locating his favorite Sunday-morning-shirt. He had an excessive wardrobe, yes – heaps upon heaps of shirts and flannels in different colors, for varying occasions. When it came to Sunday mornings, however, he was particular.

After he’d put on a clean pair of briefs – the soft, white ones TK couldn’t help but grope at whenever he wore them – he started digging through the hamper, the pile of clothes on the chair next to the desk, the drawer designated for casual wear. He even got on his knees to look underneath the bed, unsure of whether he’d maybe flung the shirt there carelessly while he’d been desperate to undress. But no.

Muttering to himself, he grudgingly pulled out one of those joke-shirts he and TK had gotten from the 126 after they’d made their relationship known – an obnoxiously bright crop-top with BABES Club printed over the chest in bold letters. It left his stomach exposed completely, accentuating his waist and happy trail; if nothing else, it’d at least make TK laugh and get close. A good distraction from Carlos’s irrational upset at having misplaced his favorite shirt.

❦

As he walked down the stairs on quiet feet, careful not to make too much noise so he could scope out the situation before TK noticed him, Carlos stopped in his tracks near the bottom. TK was shimmying along to Carlos’s weekend playlist, chopping veggies for what Carlos assumed was going to be omelets. Wearing tiny boxers and an oversized shirt.

Coffee was already on the table in a gigantic thermos jug, bread rolls and an assortment of jams and honey placed beside it – alongside butter, cheeses, and avocado and salmon bites. Carlos couldn’t keep his mouth closed, eyes flickering between the breakfast buffet and his boyfriend, who still hadn’t noticed him, in wonder. What the fuck.

Right as he was about to say something – propose marriage, maybe – TK turned around, sizzling pan in hand.

They just stared at each other for a moment.

Before TK could presumably yell at Carlos for being a fucking creep, Carlos blurted out “Is that my shirt?”, fixing his gaze on the unmistakable APD logo on TK’s chest. And the way the shirt was hanging off TK’s shoulders, accentuating the dip of his throat. Two sizes too big for him, Carlos guessed. My size.

“You mean our shirt?”, TK replied, eyebrow ticking up as he placed the pan on the table mat. When he met Carlos’s gaze, he crossed his arms in front of his chest, defensive.

“What- no, I mean my shirt. You know it’s- I always-“ Carlos couldn’t find his words, brain having a hard time reconciling the conflicting impressions bouncing around in it.

TK was wearing his favorite shirt, meaning he himself couldn’t wear it. Not ideal. TK looked delectable wearing his favorite shirt. Huh. TK had prepared one hell of a breakfast buffet for Carlos. Beautiful. Carlos was picking a fight over TK wearing his shirt instead of crushing him into a hug and thanking him. Bad. Very, very bad.

TK made his way over to him, never breaking eye-contact. “Our shirt, Carlos. I put it on whenever you’re on duty or, like, busy. Out of the house. It smells like you, so I wear it.” – “You- but-“

Rather than telling him off for being stuck in his habits, or ungrateful, or whatever, TK grabbed Carlos’s hands and placed them on his own waist, over the soft, warm fabric of Carlos’s shirt. “You’re my home, Carlos. Is that so bad?”

It snapped Carlos out of his daze, hearing his own thoughts from earlier mirrored by his boyfriend. “No, no, it’s not bad at all, it’s – I want that. You’re my home, too.” Carlos leaned in, burying his face in TK’s shoulder, pulling him closer. Breathing in the mingled scents on their shirt, the epitome of their relationship.

TK laughed into Carlos’s neck, dug his fingers into Carlos’s exposed hips. Groped at his ass a little, like Carlos knew he would. “Why do I feel like sharing this shirt is a bigger step for us than you giving me that key?”, TK mumbled, smile audible.

It sounded silly but TK wasn’t wrong, per se – Carlos felt like they’d made it official. The shirt, the breakfast, his playlist warbling on in the background even though he knew it wasn’t what TK would choose to play for himself. They shared everything, now.

Carlos didn’t know if he’d been holding back, not consciously at least, but as this last piece clicked into place, he let out a huff – overwhelmed. Grabbed TK by the backs of his thighs and pulled him up, planted him on his own hips. Pressed him closer, as close as he could get him.

Peppered kisses all over his face, apologizing, thanking him, interrupting TK’s giggles and eyerolling with even more kisses. Carried TK over to the breakfast table and sat him down, climbed into his lap. Ignored the precarious creaking of the chair.

They could always make a fresh batch of omelets later.

#tarlos #tarlos fic #911 lone star #911 lone star fic #immortalstrand #thank you for sending me this prompt karen <3

[breannacasey]

Get Down (On One Knee)

TK is a dork, but a dork Carlos fell in love with

Carlos Reyes/TK Strand. 1 137 words. Teen and Up.

Written for @immortalstrand's birthday. I hope you enjoy this and have a great day. Happy birthday!

Also for @911lonestarweek Weekend Day 1: Romance/ “You are the only one for me.”/Fluff

There was something going on with TK. Carlos had no idea what it was, but his mind was definitely somewhere else. TK was keeping secrets from him, being vague about where he went and what he did. One night, he came back smelling of alcohol, swearing that he’d just been out at the bar with Nancy after a long shift and someone spilled their beer on him. Carlos believed him, that wasn’t the problem. The issue was that TK usually always invited him to come along.

The other day, Carlos had come to surprise him at the station and saw Paul notice him and swat at TK’s arm for him to interrupt their conversation. Now that he thought about it, the entire 126 was acting weird. Just yesterday, Judd and Grace invited him to spend the day with them. Something that would’ve been perfectly normal if TK had been included too.

“Hey, Reyes,” Marjan came by during a call they were both on. The firefighters were out and putting their stuff away already, and TK was busy taking care of the couple they’d pulled out of the burning house. “Did you hear about 90s night at Honky Tonk? You’ll be there, right?”

“They’re doing a 90s themed night? I was just talking to TK a few weeks ago about how awesome it would be if they did. The fashion of the time is back, why not the music? I can’t believe it’s happening, it’s like I manifested it into existence.”

“Yeah, just like. So you’ll be there?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

She smiled the kind of knowing smile she used when she knew something the other person didn’t and Carlos felt even more confused. What was everyone at the 126 hiding from him?

Keep reading on ao3

#lonestarweekend #lsweekend2021 #immortalstrand #tarlos #911 lone star #my fanfic #my post #scheduled post

[moviegeek03]

Well….broke down and going to try this. Open for prompts if anyone is interested. Feel free to send an ask or message if interested! A few friends have already claimed a couple squares but happy to double up. 

Will write for 911 Lone Star…mainly Tarlos but open to others. 

Pink X’s are square that have been claimed. Orange are finished/posted. 

(Tagging few people in case they are interested but welcome to ignore)

#bthb card #writer ramblings #moviegeek03 fanfiction #userjillian #immortalstrand #alilypea #tuserjamie #tarlos #911 lone star #submission

[lire-casander]

some things are meant to be

[1,291 words] [teen and up audiences] [beta'ed by @meloingly and @ravens-words. you guys rock!] [title from can’t help falling in love by elvis presley] [tk strand, carlos reyes] [fluff, love declarations, first i love you, good things happen bingo] [written for @immortalstrand as part of my lire’s 20 for the 20th, and also for my good things happen bingo card, first i love you]

[tk goes on a quest to finding out where his boyfriend is after waking up to an empty bed]

[my dear karen, i am so happy to have you in my life. you bring such joy with your mere presence, and you're always supportive and wonderful.I hope you enjoy reading this fic as much as i enjoyed writing it]

some things are meant to be | on ao3

TK wakes up to a cold, empty bed. He frowns when his hand touches the sheets, the fabric mocking him as he tries to get a hold of the warm body that he thought would be lying next to him. There's a second of panic flaring through his veins, the fear of having been left alone creeping up on him. It takes a moment for him to realize that he's not dreaming anymore — that the nightmares that plague his mind haven't followed him to the real world — and he only allows himself to relax when he hears noises downstairs. He checks the clock on the nightstand, the blinking white numbers screaming that it's way too early to be up on his day off, the dusk adding a golden shade to everything in the room.

Clearly he can no longer sleep properly if Carlos isn't in bed with him.

He sits up on the bed, his hands rubbing the remnants of sleep from his eyes. He spots the jeans he wore the night before, haphazardly discarded on the floor, and he thinks his shirt is the one dangling off the loveseat Carlos keeps in his bedroom, but he can't be sure. The previous night is still a blur of lust and need and feelings in his hazy mind.

As if on cue, the noise downstairs becomes louder, the clanking sounds of what seems to be pans and pots reaching his ears. There’s a soft underlying thrumming as well, the tune of a recognizable melody echoing through the house. TK thinks that it must be on purpose, the volume at which the music is playing — there's no way Carlos is listening to music this loud without wanting to wake TK up. He gets off the bed, grabs his jeans and stares at them before discarding them once again, this time on the loveseat. He looks at the shirt there, confirming it's his, and chooses to open the closet opposite the bed in search of something more comfortable to wear.

The drawers and hangers inside the closet greet him silently when he pulls the doors open. TK smiles fondly at the police uniforms and sweaters that Carlos keeps neatly folded, at the dress shirts that hang from the bar. Everything inside this closet smells like Carlos; he could spend his whole life inside just to feel like he's closer to Carlos. He might have done that, a couple of times, when their shifts didn't align and he was missing his boyfriend — he'd used the key Carlos had given him and just sat on the floor, surrounded by Carlos' clothes, breathing him in as a poor substitute of the real man, until they could see each other again.

There are a few of his things in there as well — a couple of his spare polo shirts for work, a pair of sweatpants just in case, a couple of pairs of his sneakers. TK is beginning to realize that there's a bit of himself in every corner of this house, and instead wanting to run away, he finds he’s just willing to take this leap of faith. He isn’t hiding anymore, he isn't scared anymore. It's both terrifying and exhilarating.

Picking up his phone from the nightstand, he puts on the sweatpants and throws a sleeveless t-shirt over his head, fighting his way through the holes as he walks out of the room and climbs down the stairs. He doesn’t go all the way through them, though — he stops dead in his tracks when he hears Carlos' voice singing way out of tune. TK sticks his head surreptitiously over the railing to spy on his boyfriend, and what he sees steals his breath away.

Carlos is preparing breakfast — pancakes and French toast, if the smells are anything to go by, since TK can't see the stove from this angle — and he's wearing boxers and one of TK's old and worn AFD workout t-shirts. There’s a Bluetooth speaker on the counter behind him, and the deep, rich voice of Elvis Presley is filling the air with soft chords. Without thinking it through, TK opens the recording app on his phone and begins catching Carlos singing on tape. It's not a common occurrence, because as much as Carlos loves music he doesn't really sing out loud unless he's all alone. TK knows he won't be sharing this video with anyone, but he might save it for himself — for those days when he can’t see Carlos and these tiny bits of domesticity are the only solace his heart is allowed to have.

Carlos moves around the kitchen with practiced ease, picking up ingredients to add to the mix. TK can see how Carlos grabs the peanut butter and places it on a tray, along with a glass of orange juice and a large cup of what smells like coffee. It takes him a moment to understand the scene unfolding in front of him.

Carlos is preparing breakfast in bed for him.>.

He thinks his heart is going to leap out of his chest. It’s beating so hard, so quick, so in tune with the music and the whole feeling of belonging he suddenly has. He’s never felt like this before — he’s never felt this whole before — not even with Alex. What a fool he’d been, mistaking infatuation and a deep need to be seen with actual love that can move mountains and tear down defense walls around his heart.

Love.

The realization hits him like a freight train with no control derailing against a crowded area. It’s scary, but somehow he understands that it’s also the only thing that makes sense in his life right now. Carlos and the love they share — the love he’s been so terrified of allowing into his life and his heart. But not anymore. Never again.

TK hurries down the stairs two steps at a time, wild with the need to take his boyfriend in his arms and never let go. Carlos looks up in bewilderment when he hears footsteps. He turns to switch off the stove before checking that everything’s fine; his lips curve in a brilliant smile when he sees TK rushing down the stairs. “TK, I thought you were still—”

TK pounces, flinging himself into Carlos’ arms and hugging him tight against his chest, making him huff out a small gasp. “I love you,” he whispers into Carlos’ curls, silky and wild and perfect. He feels the moment Carlos realizes what he’s said — the first time he’s ever said those words to Carlos. TK has always relied on his actions to speak louder than his words — allowing non-verbal love languages to take over his relationship — but right now it seems like a silly thing to do. The words fill up the space, resounding on the walls and echoing in his soul, matching almost perfectly with Elvis’ voice singing some things are meant to be.

“I love you too,” Carlos says back after a beat, burrowing his face deeper into TK’s skin. He wraps his arms around TK’s waist, squeezing tightly.

TK drops a kiss on Carlos’ head, followed by a trail that leads him to lift Carlos’ face and stare into warm, brown eyes. “I love you,” he repeats, more confident now. “I don’t think there’s ever been a moment when I didn’t love you, Carlos.”

TK can see the effect his words have on his boyfriend — how Carlos’ whole face lights up, how his smile broadens, how his eyes shine — and he vows to always make sure that Carlos knows, with both words and actions, that he’s cherished.

Elvis is still singing in the background when he takes Carlos’ hand and leads him upstairs, breakfast long forgotten on the counter.

#you say i'm your hero (but you're the one who saved me) #immortalstrand #fluff #love declarations #first i love you #good things happen bingo #lire's 20 for the 20th #carlos reyes #tk strand #carlos reyes/tk strand #tk strand/carlos reyes #911ls #911ls fic #911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic

[howtosingit]

As much as I love the idea of what looks like a lot of cute moments in s2, I can’t help but dwell on Rafa’s comment about them being first responders helping each other. I don’t think either will get seriously injured this season, maybe concussions/cuts minor things really- but I would love to see them emotionally be there for one another, like one having a bit of a breakdown after a rough shift and the other just being their with cuddles and support. That would be amazing. Thoughts?

Oh, I’m totally with you, and I want all of that, too!

For me it boils down to wanting them to truly be a TEAM - they’ll face external challenges and conflicts, they might even have minor disagreements, but I want them to face them TOGETHER. I want them to be a united front, I want them to support each other and be there for each other. (I also want Carlos to continue to tell it to TK straight because he loves him and wants to be honest with him, and I loved when he did that last season.)

I loved reading in that TVLine scoop from yesterday that TK finds it difficult to quarantine with his parents, so he seeks out Carlos for shelter and comfort, and that Carlos is there to support him - I LOVE THAT. MORE OF THAT PLEASE.

I also want Carlos to go through something where TK is there to support him in much the same way. GIVE ME A BALANCED RELATIONSHIP.

I don’t want anyone to get *seriously* injured this season, but I would like to see Carlos be in danger, and to see how TK responds to that. We got Carlos being heartbroken after TK got shot, and they weren’t even dating yet, so I’d love to see how their relationship affects them when something like that happens. Also, sorry, but I love Carlos Reyes with my whole heart and I want to see people (TK) completely lose their shit at the thought of losing him. HE DESERVES THAT.

Look, I know a lot of people are concerned with all of the fluffy stuff we seem to be getting, and how that can only lead to bad things to follow. I don’t know that that’s really true. I’ve watched OG 911 and I’ve thought a lot about how they construct their long-term relationships on that show. Outside of season 1 and the Karen/Hen cheating story (and I think we’ll agree that season 1 was very different than season 2-3; the same will be true for LS, I’m sure), their 3 main couples (Bathena, Madney, and Karen/Hen - I don’t know their ship name, sorry) have really mostly faced external conflicts and minor internal conflicts, and they seem to have approached them as a team, and worked through them together. I truly see the same thing happening for Tarlos. 

I don’t think we’re going to ever see them breakup, I don’t think we’re going to see one of them die. I think they are first responders and they are going to be in dangerous situations a lot, but they are going to face all of that as a TEAM, with the 126 acting as a support system around them. 

Season 1 was their time for relationship drama, and we got a lot of it. Hell, we even got a “break up,” technically. From now on, I think we’re going to get a different vibe from them, and it will be one of mostly support and comfort. And some angst, of course, but the good stuff. 

#turns out I had a lot of thoughts #I hope this makes sense #I feel like I went off on a few tangents #tarlos #911 lone star #ls spoilers #ls speculation #immortalstrand #asks #the honeymoon stage will end and we will get bad things #but I think their relationship will remain pretty solid

[rafael-silva]

at your fingertips: a tarlos fic

When Carlos watches a video of TK working out at the firehouse in one of his old police academy t-shirts, he plans on showing TK just how much he appreciates seeing him in his clothes and the full scale of the effect the paramedic has on him once he gets home. Plus, Carlos has a comeback of his own.

for good things happen bingo: tarlos + wearing each other’s clothes

making out, kissing, neck kissing, soft carlos reyes/tk strand, sharing clothes, mild hurt/comfort, they are so in love, cuddling 

3.3k | rated M | on ao3

*****

Carlos is in the middle of doing some chores around the house on his day off when he decides to take a break and scroll through Instagram.

He heads into the kitchen, fetching a cold bottle of water and retreats into the living room, falling backwards on the couch, relishing the feeling of the soft cushions under and behind him. After opening the app, he spots a new Instastory from Marjan and touches his finger to the screen there, playing it.

Carlos is glad he hadn’t taken a sip of water yet. Because he most likely would have choked on it from what his eyes are met with.

His eyebrows travel up his forehead a little and he knows the heat climbing his face isn’t from exhaustion or from moving around the house for the past couple of hours.

No. It’s from the video she’s uploaded.

TK, Paul and Mateo seem to be in the middle of some kind of challenge, a workout challenge. Marjan is clearly amused and entertained by the three men, judging by her off-screen laugh. Carlos knows that he’d probably be just as amused too if he were actually watching the video as a whole.

Carlos isn’t really aware of anything in that video except how damn good TK looks in one of his own old police academy t-shirts.

He had noticed that that shirt had mysteriously disappeared (or not so mysteriously when TK is his boyfriend) and now Carlos knew exactly what TK, and that t-shirt, were up to. He always knew TK looked good in his clothes, and knowing how the paramedic is very much a super ambitious clothes hoarder, he always looked forward to seeing TK in his clothes. Most of those moments a surprise, and the anticipation would also excite Carlos.

And boy, was this moment right now a surprise of its own. It hadn’t even crossed his mind, the possibility of TK wearing Carlos’s clothes at the firehouse, so that video kind of short-circuited Carlos’s brain, in a good way.

There is just something about the way his t-shirt hugs TK’s body, it had shrunk a little from wash after wash over the years, making it a perfect fit for TK. It fits his body like a glove, the sweat also making the shirt cling to his chest, leaving nothing to imagination. Not only that, but TK had gone ahead and rolled the short sleeves up to his shoulders, showing off his incredibly toned biceps as he lifts and lowers the dumbbells.

The video is over way too quickly. And if Carlos touches the screen again to reply it, well, who can blame him?

The officer’s body feels alive now, heat coursing through his veins. The tiredness that was lingering before is long gone now, replaced with fire. The effect TK has on him, even through a video, never fails to completely and utterly blow Carlos’s mind.

He draws in a deep breath and wills his heart to calm down, his eyes moving to the time on his phone. TK has six more hours for his shift and then he’ll be home.

Or, better yet, six more hours and Carlos can show TK how much he appreciates seeing TK in his clothes and the full scale of the effect the younger man has on him.

And if Carlos finishes the chores and errands while simultaneously counting down the minutes and having that Instagram story playing on a loop in his head, again, who can blame him?

*****

TK is pushing the condo door open and dropping his keys into the bowl nearby a little over six hours later. Carlos turns his attention from where he’s standing in the kitchen, and seeing TK stride in and dropping his duffel near the door, is all it takes for the officer to abandon the task at hand (putting away clean dishes) and makes his way towards his boyfriend.

Seeing TK in the flesh is more than enough to ignite the sparks that have been growing in Carlos’s stomach into a fire.

TK smiles sweetly at Carlos and then Carlos is on him, holding his face in place and cutting off TK’s “hey babe” by capturing TK’s lips in a hot kiss.

TK’s response is instant, his hands immediately going to grab at the back of Carlos’s t-shirt and he returns the kiss with the same fervor and heat. The kiss quickly turns messy, full of tongue, teeth and noses clashing.

Carlos swipes his tongue over TK’s bottom lip and proceeds to take TK’s same lip between his teeth, softly biting down just the way TK likes. And TK doesn’t hold back an inch of the heavy moan that escapes him at that.

The contrast in Carlos during these moments steals TK’s breath away, how Carlos can be so excited and on edge like this and is always very gentle at the same time. It makes TK’s head swim with how much he loves and wants Carlos.

Once he releases TK’s lip, Carlos moves down onto his neck, licking and sucking every patch of skin he comes in contact with. He takes it all in, inhaling TK’s scent, TK’s taste on his lips, TK’s small movements under his hold.

TK moves his head to the side and back, giving Carlos better access and exposing more skin for him. And by the small growl Carlos lets out, TK knows the larger man appreciates it.

“Who’s the tiger now?” TK says, teasing breathlessly.

He gets a small bite and swipe of a tongue over the area in response.

TK’s hand finds its way to Carlos’s loose curls, settling on Carlos’s head there.

Carlos then returns to TK’s face, giving him another heated kiss and it’s TK’s turn to hold Carlos’s face in his palms. Carlos is radiating heat, his face flushed red and the look he’s giving TK makes the paramedic shiver.

“Hmm,” TK hums, eyes glittering with pride. “I see it worked.”

Carlos watches TK for a few moments before replying, but then he instantly sees through a few things. The way TK walked into the condo, the flashes of pride on his face now, TK knew exactly what he was doing. And, oh.

“Wait,” Carlos’s eyebrows lift slightly. “Did you orchestrate this?”

TK can’t hold back, he drops his head for a second before meeting Carlos’s gaze again, his expression playful. “I think orchestrate is too big of a word…I saw an opportunity and made the best of it. Besides, I was looking forward to seeing and hearing what it did to you. Couldn’t wait to come home to this.”

Carlos shakes his head, intrigued and the thought that TK knew how Carlos would react and waiting to come home to him, to this, turns him on even more. Carlos doesn’t waste a single second in claiming TK’s lips in another passionate kiss. TK gives as good as he gets, and in an instant, he’s turning them around and pushing Carlos back against the wall behind them.

He pulls back, latching onto Carlos’s neck and peppering it with kisses and nibbles here and there.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about that video all damn day. You’re such a tease sometimes, you know that?” Carlos speaks, his voice husky as he runs his fingers through TK’s once-neat hair.

TK pulls back enough to answer Carlos. “Maybe,” he replies with a smirk. “I had something better than that video,” he adds with a pant and a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Carlos’s eyes go wide at that, starring directly into TK’s, the sheer want radiating from the officer’s brown eyes heat up TK’s face even more and makes his heat skip a beat. Carlos’s brain definitely conjures up an image of that selfie, and it increases the fire bubbling inside his stomach.

It stills makes TK a little dizzy and weak in the knees up until this day, every time he’s reminded the effect he has on Carlos, and it takes his breath away when he sees and feels how much Carlos Reyes wants him.

TK’s hands go back to Carlos’s face, cupping his cheeks and tenderly running his thumb over his cheekbones, Carlos leans into his touch and TK gives him a warm, soft smile.

“A selfie,” TK clarifies his last statement. “A sweaty selfie,” he purrs, his voice low and slow.

That’s all it takes for the little brown remaining in Carlos’s irises to completely fuse with the black now, his eyes not leaving TK’s flushed face.

“But Marjan beat me, posting that video and I knew it would also do the trick,” TK winks.

Carlos takes his own bottom lip between his teeth, biting down on his flesh while watching TK.

“Yeah, you always are a tease. A very sexy one,” he whispers before going back to showering TK’s neck with kisses.

“You love it,” TK quips back.

Carlos can’t see his face, but he knows the the smirk is widening on his boyfriend’s face, he can feel it. He’s pulling back slightly, his own face red and hot.

“You know I do,” Carlos replies, stealing TK’s breath with another kiss, but this one is more emotional. It’s like TK is his lifeline, and in more ways than one, he truly is.

TK doesn’t hold back, pouring everything he feels for Carlos into the kiss, the want, the love, the need for this man, and he deepens it, until they both become one, tangled together, not knowing where one end and the other begins. Neither of them know which of them is responsible for the moan that emits between them and neither of them care.

“I’m gonna need to see that selfie later,” Carlos heaves into the small space between them when they eventually separate. He cups TK’s face, running a thumb over TK’s kiss-swollen bottom lip.

They stop moving for a few moments, Carlos touching his forehead to TK’s and they just breathe together, breathe each other in, savouring this moment, engulfed in each other’s arms and love.

Carlos then brushes a tentative kiss to TK’s lips before pulling back and making his way to the stairs, his hand holding TK’s and pulling him along.

They hurry up the stairs and then it’s Carlos’s turn to gently push TK against the first wall they meet in their bedroom, framing TK’s body with his own. Carlos closes the distance between them, devouring TK’s lips, drinking TK in like he’s the first drop of water he has had in days.

Carlos grabs at TK’s hoodie, and they separate only long enough to remove it, followed by both of their shirts meeting somewhere on the floor. Carlos goes for TK’s belt next, whipping it off and discarding it somewhere near their shirts, the belt clattering on the floor where it lands.

TK pulls Carlos impossibly closer to him, their bare chests colliding and resting against each other. The mutual heat going off both of them in waves is almost too much to handle.

Carlos’s hands squeeze between them, finding their goal and unbuttoning TK’s jeans while TK’s go to the strings of Carlos’s sweats, pulling them loose.

“Off,” TK mumbles against Carlos’s lips.

“All in good time,” Carlos smirks in response.

TK is already so far gone he can scarcely believe it. His world has narrowed down to Carlos’s touches, his kisses, his beautiful skin and toned muscles. Narrowed down to Carlos.

The larger man pulls back, and something akin to a whine escapes TK’s lips at the loss of Carlos and his warmth. He doesn’t have too much time to dwell on it, though, because he’s being pulled towards the bed by Carlos and finds himself falling backwards on the mattress.

TK takes a second to adjust himself before Carlos is crawling on top of him, a hand on either side of TK’s head as he lowers himself and claims TK’s lips once again, a knee settling between TK’s open legs.

A hungry moan is heard from TK as he returns the kiss, his arms scrambling and wrapping around Carlos’s back, pulling him closer and then softly scratching his nails down the expanse of Carlos’s skin there, with just enough pressure he knows the officer likes.

He gets an immediate response from Carlos as he breaks the kiss and buries his face in TK’s neck, breathing a moan there.

Carlos begins to moves south, focusing on TK’s chest, every inch of it. He drops kisses here and there and stops at TK’s bullet wound scar, slightly discolored and standing out against the rest of TK’s skin.

His breath hitches a little at the reminder of just how close he had gotten to loosing TK, how close they had gotten to losing all of this. Flashes of that night take over his mind; hearing the radio call about a firefighter being shot after he had left the house, wishing he could take the first u-turn and race to the hospital while praying and praying it wasn’t TK. Having his heart ripped out of his chest when he finds out his fear had come true when Paul called him. Then hours later, standing in the hospital room doorway, tears clinging to his eyes, watching TK on the hospital bed, too still, too pale. Running his fingers through TK’s hair, and that time, unlike when TK would lean into his touch, getting no response. A light shudder runs through his body.

Knowing where Carlos’s thoughts have taken him, TK reaches out a hand and places it under Carlos’s chin, guiding his face towards him.

“Come back to me, ‘Los,” TK whispers. “I’m right here, baby.”

Carlos goes easily with him, looking into TK’s eyes and there’s so much he carries in those green irises, so much love and affection, so much promise and joy, accompanied with heat and want, and it’s all there for him.

Carlos nods and dives down, a passionate kiss erupting between them and TK lets Carlos take control and the lead, knowing that’s exactly what he needs right now. To feel TK, in every way. TK runs a hand through Carlos’s curls while the other cups his face.

“You’re beautiful, Ty,” Carlos admires. “Every inch of you, all of you, it’s you and it’s beautiful beyond words.”

The love and sincerity echoing off Carlos’s tone melts TK into a puddle. His heart swells in his chest at those words, knowing they come from the bottom of Carlos’s heart. He sees and feels the love Carlos has for him every minute of every day.

And TK will do everything in his power to make Carlos feel just as loved as he feels.

“You’re quite breathtaking yourself,” TK replies, his voice filled with emotion. “In every way. And it blows my mind that you’re mine.”

Carlos nods. “I am yours, and you are mine. My mind is just as blown as yours.”  

They soon become a heap of tangled limbs, last pieces of clothing taken off and discarded here and there. The flame now burns brightly and hotly between them, the sparks surging through their bodies as they become one, electrified by each other in every way, roused by each other’s everything. They give each other their all, pouring everything they’re feeling and everything they are and it’s all understood, it’s reciprocated, it’s everything they need. And it’s perfect.

*****

Later in the night, TK is lying on his side of the bed, scrolling through Instagram when a text pops up on the top of his screen. He laughs when his eyes go over the words.

Marjan: You’re welcome, lover boy. ;)

TK: How did you even…

Marjan: Intuition. Also, I saw that Carlos watched that video. Plus, you looked smug leaving the firehouse after shift. Just putting the pieces of the puzzle together.

TK: I thought it was Paul’s thing to be, well…this.

Marjan: I have my moments, too.

Marjan: And Paul had agreed with me.

TK chuckles, hearing the smirk Marjan is most definitely wearing through her texts.

He hears footsteps making their way into the bedroom and he’s about to mention the text conversation to Carlos but the words stop short on his tongue when his eyes land on his boyfriend.

Carlos is standing tall, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest, and in all his glory, is wearing TK’s black Austin FD hoodie.

And by the look decorating the officer’s face, he knows exactly what it’s doing to TK. Sure, it’s not a clingy t-shirt while working out, but he knows how much TK loves hoodies. It’s a subtle comeback, and with how TK is looking at him right now and the pink color painting his cheeks, it’s working.

The text messages go forgotten as TK’s eyes roam over Carlos’s figure, admiring the way his hoodie wraps around Carlos’s chest and arms. It’s a little snug at the biceps, and that just adds to the exquisite sight in front of him.

“Touché,” TK grins approvingly.

Carlos chuckles and pushes himself off the door frame, walking over and joining TK in bed.

“I was looking for it and then I remembered it was in the dryer,” Carlos says, pulling the blankets over them.

“I’m glad you found it,” TK winks and brushes a kiss to Carlos’s cheek. “You look good in my hoodie.”

He accepts the invitation of Carlos’s open arms and snuggles close, resting his head over Carlos’s chest and draping an arm over his middle.

“Hey, babe?”

“Hm?” Carlos looks at TK, his arm wrapped around his shoulder.

TK lifts his head so he looks into Carlos’s eyes. “I love you.”

Carlos’s face breaks into a soft smile, the smile that is reserved for only TK. “I love you, too, baby.”

They share a tentative kiss, tender and sweet.

“Oh!” TK says when they pull apart, his eyes sparkling as he reaches for his phone.

Carlos raises an amused eyebrow at his boyfriend and his phone pings a moment later.

He reaches for it and the text preview on his lock screen has him looking at TK with a fiery gaze.

TK blushes more under Carlos’s watch as a smirk takes over his face.

“You asked and you shall receive,” TK quips.

It’s the sweaty selfie Carlos was promised earlier. It’s more defined than the video, though the video had the grace of TK moving in that t-shirt, but the selfie holds the wonder of being up-close. The video hadn’t left anything to imagination, but the selfie goes a step further, not only showing the very satisfied look TK is wearing, but also showoff the edges of his well-defined abs, his strained biceps and the glint in his eyes, speaking volumes through the photo. It’s all on display for Carlos, and for Carlos only now.

And even though TK is right here, right next to him and he can reach out and touch everything in that picture, the selfie still leaves Carlos breathless. The effect TK has on him has Carlos going a little lightheaded, a familiar sensation of want brewing in his gut.

“Oh, Ty,” Carlos whispers before capturing TK’s lips in a kiss more heated than the previous one.

TK chuckles as he returns it, all-consumed by the rush that runs through his veins with his and Carlos’s tongues brush against each other.

“You know,” Carlos pants, his tongue darting out to swipe at his lips, TK following the gesture. “I have a couple more shirts you can borrow.”

“Hm,” TK replies, drawing in his own bottom lip between his teeth. “I’ll definitely take you up on that.”

Carlos smirks, a hand cupping TK’s face and runs his thumb over his cheek.

TK chuckles, a hand traveling to the nape of Carlos’s neck and pulls him in, connecting them with another kiss.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #userjilly #userkimmy #userthai #userjillian #reyesstrand #tuserpaige #tuserjamie #bellakitse #userems #usertriz #useramyj #djdangerlove #tuserjenny #immortalstrand #good things happen bingo #*fics #hi hello! #i'm literally 😳 posting this cause i'm nervous #i haven't written anything m rated in a while #and i hope this turned out good! #and thank you for the prompt!

[detectivereyes]

Appreciation post for TK’s bandage sticking out the top of his shirt

#911 lone star #tk strand #911lsedit #911lonestaredit #mycontent #tkstrandedit #i don't think you understand how much i love this set #as soon as i got the idea #i was like it's happening #even if ps tries to set my computer on fire #userjillian #usermaximus #userac #userkimmy #uservickytoria #userbecky #userajb #moviegeek03 #immortalstrand #useraninha #juddsryder #userjilly #sneetchestoo #trickytag #tuserpaige #jazzyjess #that's a lot of people tagged #but also reach out if you want to be added to the list

[marjansmarwani]

flicker, into a flame

13.1k || ao3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At least, that was the plan. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Carlos…” TK started, and Paul nodded. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As it was, he was shaking. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--------

 He had just finished counting the ceiling tiles, again. 

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

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

 Or so he kept telling himself. 

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

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

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

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

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

 “Five.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “And your girlfriend before her?” 

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

 “What about your son, then?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “How is he holding up?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 He just hoped it was one he could stomach. 

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

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

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

 -------------

 “You need to get some rest, TK.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “What did the doctor’s say?”

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

 “What about you?”

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

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

 “My levels are fine.”

 “TK…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 ---------------

 Morning came, but change did not.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 He nodded, “I did, I swear.”

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

 “Was your father here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 -------------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “You can’t know that Judd.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 ---------------

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

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

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

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

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

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

 -----------------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 ------------------

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

 “They found the arsonist.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 -------------

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

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

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

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

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

 Carlos raised an eyebrow, “Unbecoming, huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

 “What?” Owen asked innocently and TK groaned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “You’ll see.”

 He exchanged a confused look with Carlos, who shrugged.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 Thankfully, they seemed to understand.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “It’s good to be home.”  

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #911ls speculation #my writing #userkimmy #userac #userjilly #usermaximus #tuserpaige #userbones #reyesstrand #reyeslonestartag #buckybarnesalways #immortalstrand #maizsnex #hierophvnts #laelipoo

[911lonestarscreentime]

Breakdown of screen time for season 2, episode 12 “The Big Heat”

season 1 data here | season 2 data here

*please do not repost without credit!*

thoughts and analysis below the cut

yeah owen has a lot.. :)

but also tk carlos and judd have a lot too so i'm choosing to focus on that!!

i also loved that mateo had a good amount bc his screen time always seems to be lacking

this is the lowest amount grace has had in an episode (previous lowest was around 30 seconds in 1x03 "Texas Proud)

Season 2 averages:

Owen 8:45 minutes (+15 seconds) Judd 4:45 minutes TK 4:15 minutes (+15 seconds) Tommy 4 minutes (-15 seconds) Grace 3 minutes (-15 seconds) Marjan 2:45 minutes (-15 seconds) Paul 2:30 minutes (-15 seconds) Mateo 2:15 minutes Carlos 2:15 minutes (+15 seconds)

Series averages:

Owen 9:30 minutes (+30 seconds) Judd 5 minutes TK 4:45 minutes Tommy 4 minutes (-15 seconds) Marjan 3 minutes Paul 2:45 minutes Grace 2:45 minutes (-15 seconds) Mateo 2:15 minutes (+15 seconds) Carlos 2 minutes (+15 seconds)

#season 2 #screen time #2.12 #911 lone star #911 lone star spoilers #userjillian #usermaximus #userac #tuserpaige #userjilly #immortalstrand #vividblues262