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“Dad? You okay?”
Owen was laying on the couch, a trash can in front of him, the same way TK had left him when he went to work that morning.
“Hey bud,” Owen groaned a bit as he sat up. “I thought you were on shift until seven.”
“It’s been a slow day. Judd sent me home early to check on you.”
“God bless Judd.”
“How are you feeling? I stopped on the way home and got you more Sprite.”
“What would I do without you?” Owen took the bottle from TK’s hand.
“Probably die,” TK joked sitting next to him and resting his head on his shoulder.
“You’re right.”
“I hate this,” TK muttered.
“Hate what?”
“You being sick.”
“I know, but you know what the doctors said. I have to get worse before I get better.”
“I know. That doesn’t make it any easier though.”
Their conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door. TK stood to answer it and was surprised to find Carlos on the other side, still in his uniform, grocery bags in his hands.
“Hey,” TK greeted him with a kiss on the cheek. “Come in. What’s all this?”
“Carlos. What are you doing here?”
“Hey captain Strand. TK told me you weren’t feeling well, so I’m making soup,” he held up the grocery bags for emphasis.
“You don’t have to do that,” TK insisted.
“Tiger, you can’t cook to save your life.”
“Hey,” he protested with a pout.
“He’s right TK.”
“And I know you and your dad have both had a long day so I’m here to help.”
“Thank you Carlos,” Owen said finding the strength to push himself off the couch. “I’m going to take a shower. I feel like death.”
TK watched him all the way to the bathroom until the door was shut behind him. Then he slumped, like a puppet with his strings cut. Carlos stepped behind him and rubbed his shoulders.
“I’m worried about him,” TK muttered.
“I know you are baby. What have the doctors said?”
“The same as always. He’s not getting any worse but he’s not getting any better. It’s frustrating. I’m terrified of losing my dad.”
“I know,” Carlos sighed kissing his temple.
TK shook himself and turned to face Carlos.
“I need something to distract me. Show me how to make this soup.”
When Owen emerged from the shower he found TK and Carlos in the kitchen cooking together. He leaned against the wall and watched for a minute. He hadn’t seen his son that happy in a long time.
“Smells good,” he commented, announcing his presence.
“Abuela’s recipe,” Carlos said. “It’s almost ready.”
When the soup was done the three of the sat on the couch, steaming bowls in hand while TK flipped channels to find a movie.
“Well Carlos, congratulations on giving me the first bit of food I’ve been able to keep down in three days.”
“Abuela always used to make this for me and my sisters when I was sick.”
“It was really good,” TK said trying to stifle a yawn.
“Tired?” his dad chuckled.
“It’s been a long couple of days.”
“Go to bed baby,” Carlos said.
“I wanna stay in here though.”
“Then lay down,” Owen grabbed a pillow and laid it in his lap for TK to rest his head on. TK maneuvered himself so that his head was in Owen’s lap and his legs were in Carlos’. It only took ten minutes for him to be out cold.
“I love how close you two are,” Carlos said quietly.
“He’s everything to me,” Owen responded. “Do you remember how old you were when the towers fell?”
“Eight or nine.”
“TK was seven. I was gone for almost a week. I watched men that I’d served with for years die right in front of me. I was ready to lay down and die myself. But I had him. This little boy was at home waiting on me, and he needed his dad. So I picked myself up and I came home. You should have seen the look on his face. I was covered in dust two inches thick but TK tackled me and wouldn’t let go. He slept in my bed with me every night for the next six months. TK is my world Carlos. That’s why I fight so hard. I fought my way out of the towers, out of depression after, and now I’m fighting this cancer. Because I can’t leave my boy.”
“I can hear you talking about me,” TK mumbled pressed his face against Owen’s stomach.
“Sorry bud. Go back to sleep.”
“I love you dad.”
“I love you too TK.”
“I love you Carlos.”
“I love you too Tyler.”