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I.
TK is sitting shiva.
Carlos cooks, Owen finds a Yahrzeit candle and lights it, Nancy covers all the mirrors in the house and Tommy sits next to TK. Silence lays heavily across the house, for someone who had so many happy memories of his mother, he can only think of the bad ones. The ones where he was crying out for help in not so many words, but one’s that only a mother could hear. Because she knew him best, the ugly little parts that no one speaks about because it’s easier but she faced them head on because that’s just what you do for someone you love, isn’t it?
When the sun goes down, and the last prayer is said for the night, and everyone from the 126 goes home, Carlos grabs blankets and pillows and lays them on the ground and helps TK move to a lying position. Carlos didn’t know what to do, most of the day had been finding small things to do to comfort TK who had sat there emotionless, only breathing and blinking, the few words that were said were a goodbye to his father, his arms wrapped around himself like he’s holding the world's biggest secret.
Carlos looks into TK’s eyes now, reaching out to brush a small eyelash from the corner of his eye before eventually caressing his cheek, and then between his eyebrows and then his nose, because there had been a time when TK had gotten hurt on a call and all Carlos wanted to do was just keep touching him, reminding himself that he was real, and TK had smiled, explaining this story about his mother who always rubbed the invisible lines between his eyebrows with her thumb, and it was then that Carlos knew just a little bit of what kind of person Gwyn was.
TK lets himself be loved like that before he closes his eyes, and Carlos scoots closer to hold him in his arms, and then he’s gone. The weight of everything eventually takes over and Carlos prays for a dreamless sleep.
He lays there like that for a while, until his arm falls asleep and he can’t feel his fingers anymore does he wiggle out of it, TK turning over anyway, his back to Carlos in a way that’s all too familiar. It wasn’t personal, he knows that it isn’t, because falling back into himself the way TK does is normal when you feel like you didn’t have anyone fighting for you.
Carlos doesn’t know much about his ex boyfriend, just the fact that their relationship had tended to run on the cold side, not because TK didn’t have any love to give but it was too much, and it had ended because it needed to. There’s things that he knows TK isn’t telling him but he never pressed for more, just the fact that if he needed it then he’d be there for him through it.
Carlos turns, moving his position and grabbing his phone and texts his mother after ignoring her for most of the day. He knows that it’s probably too late for her to answer, but he sends it anyway with a sorry, i just feel like i don’t know what i’m doing.
Carlos had never fallen in love before TK, he had gotten close before it felt like he was getting too close to the sun, and for all intents and purposes, he knows that being with TK often felt like the things that he found himself running away from, but he stayed, because love was keeping the promise anyway.
It should be illegal, he used to think those first couple of months with TK, To love someone this much.
He turns around, staring at TK’s back, watching him breathe in and out, and he reaches out, touching his shoulders with the tips of his fingers. He wants to tell him, I’m sorry that you didn’t get enough time with her, it’s unfair. He wants to say, If I could go back in time and change things I would. There wasn’t much that Carlos wouldn’t do for TK.
He wraps his arms around TK again, his own back to the world, protecting TK from danger.
II.
Paul comes by in the morning with breakfast with Owen right behind him. TK is still asleep when he comes by, and Carlos takes the food with a grateful smile and then Paul hugs him and Carlos almost loses himself in it, because while Paul and Carlos weren’t close in the way that he was with TK, there’s something about knowing that these people who were TK’s corner were also in Carlos’. He might have held onto him a little tighter than he normally would, but Paul would never fault him for it.
And when TK wakes up he curls up into himself, his back once again against the couch and Paul sits down next to him with a plate of food.
“I’m not hungry,” TK says, almost a whisper.
“I know.” Paul gives him the plate anyway.
TK looks down at the plate, takes a bite and then says, “Thank you.”
Carlos watches from the kitchen and Owen passes him, placing a hand on his shoulder.
He wants to tell Owen that TK didn’t talk to him yesterday. Owen reads his mind, gives him another gentle squeeze and says, “It’s nothing you did or didn’t do.”
Carlos eventually walks over to them, sitting on the other side of TK, presses a kiss to the side of his head and holds his hand.
Tommy comes over after Paul leaves, and then Judd and Grace, Marjon, Mateo and Nancy.
Owen shares a story about how Gwyn almost burnt down their first apartment because of something she tried to make but forgot about in the oven. TK smiles at that, it had happened before he was born, but he takes it like it was his memory anyway.
When Mateo asks if she ever forgot and burnt something again TK says no, his dad decided to take over the cooking after that, and then eventually, Enzo.
“We should see how Enzo and Jonah are doing.” It’s the last thing that TK says before his mental visiting hours are over and all the words get swallowed up again.
Tommy helps Carlos clean the kitchen after everyone leaves, TK is laying down, and Tommy asks the big question.
“How are you doing?”
Carlos scrubs the plate a little more than it needs, trying to get all those invisible stains out of it so it can be perfect again.
“Honestly? I don’t know.” It’s the only truth that he can give her other than the overwhelming sadness that his partner won’t talk to him but will talk to everyone else. He knows that it’s selfish to think but it’s what he feels, and he’d never voice it.
“Yeah,” she sighs, a sad smile on her face, “That feeling will never really go away.”
She thinks for a moment, “It just gets to a point where it coexists with everything else.”
Carlos doesn’t realize that his eyes are watering until one single tear falls on top of the plate.
“Sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying.”
Tommy gently grabs the plate and places it on the drying rack before pulling Carlos into a hug.
“You don’t have to apologize.”
He pulls away wiping his face and Tommy suggests they go outside and take a little walk.
It’s only then that Carlos feels like he can breathe. He hates that he feels that way, hates that he can’t handle the weight of the situation when he already sees so much destruction and pain in his line of work, but it was different now, it was in his own home.
The walk turns into Carlos and Tommy sitting on a curb outside of their place, his legs spread out in front of him enjoying the cool night.
“I think he’s only said a couple of words to me since the plane.” Carlos admits, rubbing his forehead and pulling his legs up so he can rest his chin on his knee.
“And I know it’s nothing…. It’s nothing I did. I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
“You’re already doing it.” Tommy says with a smile. “You’re doing everything you need to do, which is just being there. Grief looks different on everyone. I—I shut down after Charles, my body went on autopilot, it was like the weight of it was too much and I just—I made breakfast for my girls, that was one thing that I could do.”
Tommy holds his hand, giving it a squeeze. “Sometimes people just need to sit there in their grief, and as much as it hurts to watch, sometimes you just have to let them.”
They sit in silence, until the cold chill is too much, and Carlos gets up, walks Tommy to her car and gives her a hug, one that encapsulates, “I’m sorry for your own loss,” and, “I’m sorry if it feels like people forgot.” He watches her leave before throwing his head back and looking up at the sky. There’s more clouds than usual. He goes back inside.
Carlos lays down besides TK, wrapping his arms around him again, and TK stirs, turning around and tucking himself into Carlos without saying a word, he doesn’t know if TK realizes that he’s even doing it, but regardless it makes him feel better knowing that Carlos was a safe space to land.
III.
Days pass and TK and Carlos have found an unspoken rhythm. Carlos and the 126 try and breathe life into their home that had felt so dark for what feels like a long time, there’s more meals than Carlos can count in their fridge, and TK only really grazes at the food before he conforms to the silence again. Carlos is starting to get used to it.
But he’s found a new way to communicate, and it is, the biggest love language that TK has, physical touch. When they had begun properly dating Carlos wasn’t very good at it. It had always surprised him seeing TK reach out for his hand during something mundane like getting groceries or walking through a parking lot only for them to release their hands and for TK to grab it again in the car.
Carlos loved his family but they weren’t all that physical, not the way that TK was, it was like he needed to be constantly reminded that someone was there, and overtime Carlos had gotten used to it. He didn’t question it when TK reached out for his hand, didn’t blink twice when TK rested against him at the firehouse when he’d visit for lunch, it was about as natural as breathing now, and he had found that it was exactly what TK needed when words failed.
They’re alone now, for the first time in a while, there was always someone coming in and out, sitting with them in the silence. They didn’t talk about work, didn’t need to bring up the fact that TK was missed, there was no need to share a funny anecdote about something that happened and it was odd but it had proved everything that Carlos already knew: they were a family. Albeit a dysfunctional one, but one that came in a moment of need.
Andrea comes without warning, slips right through the door with even more food, the smell is what hits Carlos first, it’s comfort food. She hugs him first, a soft spoken Carlitos followed by a kiss to the forehead. He holds onto her for a moment longer. She’s the one that pulls away walking to TK, she sits on the ground across from him and he watches as she reaches out, her hand cupping his cheek and he doesn’t fall apart but there’s an emotion that Carlos doesn’t know how to describe, he eventually leans into it and Andrea closes the bridge, her arms wrapping around him.
It’s the kind of hug that Carlos got when he was a kid, the kind of hug that comes when you’ve been injured, it might have been because Carlos had fallen off his bike, or stubbed his toe, or gotten his feelings hurt because a friend didn’t want to be a friend anymore. No matter how big or small the injury, it was that kind of hug that she would give him, the one that meant that she saw him, really saw him,, and knew that it had hit something deep within him and he just needed to feel like he was being listened to.
They might have had their problems after Carlos came out, but the love had never left, what was misinterpreted as a want to push Carlos’s sexuality underneath the rug was just giving Carlos the space to find himself after hiding who he was around them for so long. This situation was different, but a mother always knows best, and she might not have been his, but she loved him like a son.
“I’m so sorry, Mijo.”
Carlos' throat feels tight, he grabs the food that his mother brought and places it in the fridge, busying his hands while they speak quietly. He doesn’t try to listen.
He grabs a couple of plates and brings it over to them, he watches as his mother combs her fingers through his hair, and TK looks at Carlos and gives a nod of thanks for the food and then a gentle hand squeeze.
“She made your favourite,” Carlos voice cracks for a moment, a gentle smile, “Which is pretty special considering I have to beg her to make this,” He reaches out now to pat TK’s cheek.
TK lets out a small laugh, bringing the food up to his mouth.
It’s progress.
*
“My mom got me this elephant,” TK says, holding it in between his hands like it’s some fine and precious thing; the elephant looks well-loved on, the seams of it are slowly coming apart, the smile on the elephant’s face is wonky from a time well spent being there for a child that needed something to hold onto while he slept. “We got it at an amusement park the day after they told me that my parents were getting a divorce,” it’s so small in his hand, but the way he holds it tells Carlos everything that he needs to know. “She told me to pick out whatever I wanted at the gift shop and she’d buy it,” TK rubs the ears of the well-loved elephant, before clearing his throat. “I just picked it because it looked like everyone had grabbed all the other stuffed animals, this was the only one that stood out to me the most.”
Carlos reaches over, his fingers grabbing the elephant’s ear, he smoothly rubs his thumb over it before he wraps an arm around TK.
“That’s beautiful, TK.” his mother says, her hand is placed on top of his.
TK doesn’t cry, at least, not in the normal way someone would cry during this situation, his tears are silent, he’s rubbing his temple before his hand comes over his face, leaving the elephant on his lap. It’s a grief that Carlos wouldn’t understand for a very long time, a grief of knowing that your mother was no longer here and that she would just be a memory to hold onto from now on. That was the worst part, in all the days that he has watched TK in shiva, it had finally hit him, that this was the moment. The one moment in time, when the numbness stopped being a block and the emotions started taking over.
It reminds him all too well of a time before, when he had first become a cop. He had got called out on a case with his partner, they were friends, and they were new at this job, both joining it together, it wasn’t meant to be as tragic as it was, but who could’ve told them what would have happened? The day had started out so normal, and maybe that was a sign, or maybe it didn’t matter at all how the day started, but it was a domestic disturbance, apparently officers before them had come to the vicinity, had arrested the guy on some other charge but he was out again, and while Carlos might not have agreed with how long he had been locked up, it seemed no matter what, he would always come back here. By the time they had arrived there was already screaming throughout the house, he heard pans being thrown and when they got on scene the woman had a bloody nose and there was a little baby sitting in it’s crib right in the living room. The place had been thrashed to shreds, and it had gotten to a point where the neighbours didn’t try and bother anymore and all Carlos could think of how disappointing it was that it had happened so much that no one noticed anymore.
What had happened that night was fast, Carlos had been behind his partner when the first gunshots rang out, echoing the streets and his brain for years to come, he couldn’t call it a stand off because that implied that there was reasoning, some kind of waiting period, waiting for the other to shoot. But he watched as his friend fell to the ground, watched as the boyfriend looked at both him and the officer in shock, and then the adrenaline kicked in. He had tackled the man, putting handcuffs on him before he was shaking himself, there were screams being shouted at around him, but all he could really remember was the look on his friends face knowing that he wasn’t going to go home that night.
The days spent after were a mourning period that Carlos never wanted to feel again. There had been guilt initially, not knowing everything a friend would know, and how he had found out at the memorial after. He thinks of TK now, both were just… accidents. Accidents that shouldn’t have happened but they did—grief that would still be there even after years of time. Carlos remembers feeling numb from what happened, he had felt like he had just cried all the tears that he could before eventually, two weeks went by, then three, and while the wound wasn’t as fresh it would never be healed, just stitched over in nice words and “sorry for your loss” and he learned to deal with it.
The way that people grieve would never make sense to Carlos, and he supposed that it was never made to make sense. Humans could only handle so much until they hit their breaking point and TK had hit him years ago, at least that’s about as much as he knows from what he had told him.
*
When his mother goes home, it’s late again, the candle still burns by a picture of Gwyn and TK, and Carlos is so tired from the day he wants to sleep, but he vowed to himself that he wouldn’t until TK did.
But TK doesn’t look like he’s ready for sleep, he’s still in the same position that he’s been in all day. He’s still holding the stuffed animal in his hands with as much care as you would to a small child that was scared.
“Hey baby,” Carlos whispers, keeping his hand on top of his. TK turns to him and rests his head against his shoulders.
“Hey.” It’s all that he can muster right now, and Carlos doesn’t press for anymore words.
“I know I’ve said it before, but I love you.” Carlos runs his hands through TK’s hair.
TK gives him the trying-smile that he knows so well.
“I love you.” TK presses a kiss to the side of his head, their fingers laced together now this time.
“I’m just….” he starts to say, and then he sighs, “I’m just so tired.”
“Yeah.” Carlos sighs. “I know.”
“I know,” Carlos’ voice is barely a whisper now. “You don’t have to worry about anything.” It’s a phrase he’s been saying for a while, but it was true. Carlos would pull the heavens from the earth to make everything okay from TK.
“I just want to sleep.” TK says, pulling Carlos with him.
So they sleep.
IV.
Owen comes early in the morning with breakfast, giving a kiss to TK and a hug to Carlos. They spend most of the day just sitting together, TK doesn’t say much, so Owen talks. He tells a lot of stories about the time before TK, most of the stories he didn’t know, and Carlos sees him smiling, genuinely smiling, for the first time in a long time and it’s been so long it feels like it makes him want to cry. He holds his hand, feeling the way his laugh shakes throughout his entire body on all the small ridiculous things his mom did when she was in law school.
When Owen leaves for his shift Nancy comes over. She had been here and there but with TK being gone she was mostly at work, but she brought a platter of food, she tells them she spent hours trying to get all the stuff and making sure it looked nice. TK tells her that it’s perfect, because she made it.
Nancy started to cry and then quickly started to apologize for crying. She told him it was because sometimes she still thought about Tim, and how everyone had rallied for her and she had hardly been here for TK.
Carlos watches as TK reaches out to hug Nancy, and that was the purpose of everything here–they were allowed to mourn together–allowed to mourn for different things.
Carlos sits across from them while Nancy tells him about all the things that he’s missed since he’s been gone since he asked, and Nancy was never afraid to talk about gossip amongst the other paramedics, if only, to make TK smile.
It had sometimes felt like watching the fair come into town, you had to admire the lights of the carnival rides from on top of the ferris wheel while you could before it was gone.
Nancy talks about Tim, and TK lets her, she says she’s never found the space to talk about it before, and TK had always liked to be useful, and it was nice not having to talk about his own grief for once but to commiserate with someone that he loved. But there is the common denominator in all this is–love–too much love with no real place to go.
Nancy leaves late, and Carlos cleans up the kitchen and the food that they’ve been slowly working through and he makes TK a hot chocolate.
It’s a simple gesture, a warm drink to a tired soul, Carlos leans against him, sitting in the silence once more.
“Tomorrow is the last day of Shiva,” TK whispers, “And I’m scared about it.”
Carlos reaches out and runs his hands through TK’s hair, the little curls at the nape of his neck are twisted around his fingers gently, and he rubs his thumb there, looking at him with intent eyes.
TK doesn’t want for an answer, “I was going to relapse. That’s why I was gone when you came home. I had every intention of doing it, it was like my body went on autopilot when you were gone. I couldn’t think about anything else other than the fact that I was about to get so high so I couldn’t feel anything anymore.”
Carlos’ face doesn’t fall, but there’s a tightness in his throat again.
“I just felt like it was too much–all of it was too much–and I just wanted to be numb. I didn’t want to have to feel any of it, because the thought just never leaves–the fact that she’s gone and she will never get to see Jonah grow up is heartbreaking–he barely had any time with her–he won’t ever get to know her like I did–won’t ever be able to hear all the nursery rhymes she sang to me–or–” His voice shakes, it’s the kind of voice that someone does when they’re trying not to cry because the grief like tendril vines slips through the cracks, and it squeezes all the life and bravery right out of you.
“My mom was the best mom–she found me in all of my darkest moments, even when I couldn’t see myself anymore she always did.” His hands shake and Carlos takes them in his own. “I don’t know how to live in a world where my mom doesn’t exist.”
Carlos didn’t have the right words to say because they would never be enough, and it had felt like one of those times where there was nothing to be said other than just being there for him while he was hurting. He reaches out, kisses his cheek, the side of his head, wrapping his arms around him, trying to process the fact that TK would have relapsed and wondering if he would have even known it.
“I wanted to tell you this days ago, I just didn’t know how. And I felt ashamed for it–I kept thinking that if I did, I would have not only betrayed my mom but my dad, you, the 126.”
“Even if you did relapse, it wouldn’t have made you a failure or someone to be ashamed about, TK.” He had known enough people to know that, and after they had gotten together it was something that Carlos had thought about, there may come a time when he did relapse, and while he had never thought of what he’d do he supposes it would look something like this.
“The only thing that matters right now is that you didn’t, and you’re still here even if you thought that you couldn’t be.” Carlos' voice is gentle, almost a whisper, he reaches out to move some hair out off his forehead, his thumb reaching out for the fallen tear and wiping it away. “I’m incredibly proud of you TK. You’ve suffered so much, and it’s not fair. It’s fucked up that it happened, I’m not going to say you’re resilient and or that she’s in a better place or any of that shit that people say when they don’t know what else to say when someone is grieving, but I am proud of you, that will never change.”
“Thank you.” TK’s voice sounds raw, but he sniffs, clears his throat and wipes his eyes. “Lay with me?”
Carlos nods, lying down with him and pulling him to his chest, his back against the world again, protecting him.
V.
On the last day of Shiva, TK says his morning prayer and then he gets his shoes on to go for a walk. Carlos stands behind TK, his hand placed on his back while he waits for him to open the door. TK stands there for a moment, his hand on the door knob left unlocked for the past seven days. He takes a deep breath, opening the door, the sun is immediately shining on them, there’s a cool breeze, and TK steps out the door.
He stands there for a moment, lifting his face up to the sky, his eyes closed and his arms stretched out before looking back at Carlos, he smiles and follows right next to him, their fingers grazing the other’s before Carlos eventually takes his hand.
TK looks over at Carlos when he isn’t looking, and thinks to himself that maybe love was just someone sitting in the dark with you when it felt like the world was ending and reminding you that it wasn’t. He thinks of how that used to be his mom, and that in some way she’s still here, her love never actually gone, it’s just different now, and he was learning to be okay with that.