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Today had not been a good day.
There were always calls that ended badly, times where no matter how hard they tried, they just couldn’t save them. The times when the worse did happen, and they were powerless to stop it.
Today had been one of those times.
The details were still hazy in TK’s mind. He knew there had been a fire, he knew that there had been people trapped inside. They had responded and had gotten to work immediately, pulling out the hoses and donning their gear; preparing themselves to enter the inferno.
They separated into teams: Judd, Mateo, and Paul starting to prep the hose; TK and Marjan heading towards the structure. The next moment there had been an echoing, crashing sound and a wave of heat had knocked TK and Marjan to the ground. When they had staggered back to their feet - unharmed but stunned - the structure before them was no more.
There had been nothing they could do but put out the flames, and work on recovery.
It was one of the grim, sobering realities that reminded them all that while so much of their job was heroism and helping others, there was just as much tragedy as goodness in the world and sometimes they just had to face that. Sometimes they were powerless in the face of fate.
They had all been on the job long enough to learn this; though Mateo was still in his beginning stages. This wasn’t a new revelation to anyone on the team.
That didn’t mean that they liked it anymore.
They had put out the flames and retrieved the victims - teenagers, judging by the size of the bodies. TK could feel it as all of their hearts sank collectively: not being able to save people was awful; not being able to save children was worse.
The ride back to the station had been silent. Upon their arrival they completed their chores and separated to their respective corners: they all needed some space to grapple with this latest tragedy. There was an unspoken agreement that no one had any appetite and that they would skip dinner tonight. The Captain had made a point to check in with each one of them, but other than that they all headed to bed in silence - the strain of the day echoing through the open concept of the firehouse.
Sleep was alluding TK tonight. Finally, he couldn’t stand it any longer and left his bunk in search of some water and maybe some mindless television. He was in the kitchen, pulling a glass from a cupboard when the sound of soft footsteps behind him nearly startled him to the point of dropping his glass. He spun around, only to find a disheveled Carlos standing behind him. His boyfriend was in faded sweats and a hoodie; his face drawn and his eyes tired. He looked nothing like his usual self and TK recalled vaguely that he had been on that scene too.
“Carlos?” he asked softly, setting down his glass and crossing the room, “is everything okay?”
Carlos shook his head, “I can’t sleep. Can I stay here?”
His voice was soft and rough; he had been crying earlier. TK’s heart ached for him.
“Of course,” he replied, taking Carlos’s hand in his and leading him to one of the couches in the lounge. He got him settled before sliding into the space next to him. Carlos had been silent the whole time.
“Talk to me Carlos,” TK asked gently, running a hand through his hair, “tell me what’s wrong.”
There was more silence in the minutes that followed. TK kept running a soothing hand through Carlos’s hair, feeling him relax into his embrace slowly.
“Those kids,” Carlos said eventually, “I knew them.”
TK dropped his hand from Carlos’s hair without even thinking about it. “Carlos…” he began, not sure how he was going to finish that sentence. What did you say to someone who had seen three kids they had know die?
“They were 14 and 15,” Carlos continued, “some local kids who liked to fancy themselves trouble makers, even though they had never done anything more rebellious than spray painting their names under one of the bridges. Still, they used to pop up a lot on my patrol. They were sweet kids, so full of themselves. I...never even knew their names. I just knew them, had chatted with them. That house? It was abandoned. They had taken it over, liked to think of it as their ‘clubhouse.’”
Here, Carlos paused to swallow thickly, “They had never done anything to hurt anyone. They were smart, funny kids. They were kids TK, what could they have done to possibly deserve that?”
There was silence again. TK rolled Carlos’s words over in his mind, trying to find some answer, some platitude he could give his boyfriend, some way he could make it better.
There wasn’t one.
“Nothing I can say will make this better,” he said eventually, “we both know that. Nothing anyone says will bring those kids back, will make this make more sense, and you know that.”
Carlos nodded and they sat in silence for a few more moments before TK spoke again, “but you should know that I’m here for you - that we’re here for each other - no matter what. We can’t fix it, but we can get through it together, just like we always do.”
His voice was soft and sincere, his gaze warm and loving as Carlos turned to look at him. He moved over so he was on the opposite end of the couch and motioned for Carlos to join him. He obliged, moving over so that he was curled up in TK’s embrace, head on his shoulder. TK kissed the top of his head lightly, “It’s not okay, but it will be.”
Carlos nodded, and they spoke no more. They held each other until they fell asleep, wrapped up in each other. When various members of the crew walked by, in pursuit of their own distractions from a sleepless night, they simply smiled and left them be.
This embrace, this togetherness didn’t make a tragedy go away; but it made it a little easier to live with, and a little easier to move on.