Archive of Our Own

If raindrops were money, Tk Strand would have easily become a billionaire by collecting the droplets on his face.

He stood outside the station, the spray of the raindrops slowly starting to dampen his entire front. He didn't mind much, though. He needed fresh air, no matter how watery it was.

Carlos had the day off while he had a shift, today, and though it wasn't particularly a rare occurrence, Tk still didn't like leaving his boyfriend alone on stormy nights. Nights like this brought him back to the first tornado, the one that had nearly torn him apart, just by being the first domino to tilt into the others. His entire life started crumbling, then. His dad's cancer, witnessing that man die, all the while knowing that his dad would have told him sooner if he didn't make such stupid, rash decisions. It all started with the same severe weather warning that they were currently facing, and Tk hated that Carlos was alone.

"You should be asleep."

Tk turned to the voice, only to see his father's head peeking out of the door to the station. He hadn't really taken into account how late it was, and how much the station already needed to sleep. It was a miracle that they weren't getting calls left and right with this weather. Tk didn't really mind, though, he's been on shifts with little sleep. It just makes it all the more rewarding after it's done.

"I'm not tired."

"Is something wrong?"

Tk got an overwhelming sense of deja vu at that question, and he visibly tensed. Half of his AFD hoodie was stuck to him, now drenched, and Tk was leaning into the dry side as water cascaded down his face. He didn't want to look at his dad. He wanted to just sit there, and get rained on, and stare at the side of the building across the street until his exhaustion finally caught up with him.

But he knew his father was going to push, and Tk wouldn't be able to handle it, so he responded in kind. "Can you please not ask me that question, right now?"

Tk found himself stuck sitting on the bench again, willing his legs to push him up so he could go inside and get some rest, but he remained static, frozen there while the rain patted against his shoulder.

He didn't even know what was wrong, other than the fact that he was absolutely drained, and that he was worried. He told Carlos to text him if anything had happened, and he knew he would, if he could, but Tk was finding it hard to find comfort in the lack of messages. He, instead, found it unnerving, especially because of the fact that, as the one o'clock hour rounded itself into two, he still had no more than he did at ten that night, just as the storms started to roll in.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, gripping it tight, and tugging at his shirt slightly. He didn't need to look to know that his father was beckoning him inside. "You're gonna catch a cold, Tk, how long have you been out here?"

"I don't know, since midnight? It wasn't raining that bad when I got out here."

"It is, now, Tk."

"I know, I know. I just," He brought a hand to his face, wiping the rain droplets from his face with a sigh. He swallowed hard, blowing out a breath that flung several droplets from his lips, before finally looking up at his father. "lost track of time."

Owen let out a dry chuckle, that managed to put an amused smile on Tk's face. "Yeah, it's almost two, T."

Tk groaned, finally forcing himself to stand. He turned on his heel to look at the other man, pursing his lips in thought. "I'm sorry, I just needed some time to think."

"Do you wanna talk about it? There’s hot water on the stove. You can make tea." Owen snaked an arm around his son, who sinks into the embrace. It was obvious that he had exhausted himself, especially to Owen, but Tk was most likely going to insist on staying up with his nose stuck in his phone until he got a text from Carlos.

He's probably asleep, Tk. What the hell is wrong with you?

"Yeah," Tk murmured as soon as they entered the station. He found himself pulling his hoodie off, leaving only a thin, wet t-shirt atop his torso. He used the dry half of the hoodie to wipe the water from where he could, trying his best to get as dry as he could. He didn't want to catch the cold that his dad was so adamant on avoiding. Tk would be knocked out for at least a couple days if he wound up sick.

"It's, uh, Carlos? I know its stupid but I don't like leaving him alone at night."

"Why?" Owen cocked an eyebrow up, yanking a packet of chamomile tea from the box. He unwrapped and unraveled it, before setting it in a mug. He was reaching for the kettle when Tk answered.

"I don't know. I just... he is really protective of me, you know? And I feel like I should be, too, and he normally sends me a good night text and there's a tornado watch and I don't know what I would do if I just waited around while he physically can't text me. Like, what if he tripped and hit his head on the counter and passed out, or he can't sleep and he's afraid of interrupting me, or—"

"Tk," Owen sighed. He was pouring the water over Tk's tea bag at this point. "I think you're overthinking this."

"I know I'm overthinking it, Dad. That doesn't make it any better."

"Do you trust Carlos?" Owen asked, slowly leaning against the counter and reaching for the honey.

"I love him."

"That's not what I asked you." Owen arched an eyebrow with a smug smile that infuriated Tk, but only in the slightest.

"Of course I trust him, Dad. With my life."

"Then trust him to call if he needs you, T. You can't spend your whole life worrying when you're not around him."

"Who says I can't?" Tk retorted, starting to bounce his tea bag in the mug. He narrowed his eyes at his father; a death glare that was equally intimidating and playful.

"I just did." Owen matched his look.

Tk snorted and shook his head, taking a step back and dropping his tea bag. "You really just pulled out the tea because I said so bull on your twenty-seven year old son in regards to worrying about his boyfriend with whom he lives with?"

"You only live with him part time, Tk."

"Oh, my bad," Tk laughed, narrowing his eyes. "I didn't know that was important to the situation."

"Shut up," Owen chuckled. He picked up his tea again, eyes glimmering in amusement. He knew that Tk was worried, and he didn't blame him, but it was nice to know that he would be able to cut through that tension every once in a while. He appreciated it, even. The glint of happiness, even in such a stressful situation, used to be nonexistent. Doubt and fear was the only thing Owen could see with Tk, in regards to the past couple years, but now it was different. It was like a switch was flipped.

He knew that switch was Carlos.

So, Tk had a right to worry.

"How long have you been up?" Tk eventually asked. He was genuinely curious. Most of the time, his father only remained awake if they had a call. This hour called for heavy sleep and light snoring, not chamomile tea.

"Buttercup was whining in your bunk."

"Are you serious?" Tk raised his eyebrows, picking up his mug with both his hands.

"Yeah," Owen replied. "He couldn't find you, it freaks him out. He woke me up." Owen paused, sighing after a moment of heavy silence. "He's worried about you."

"Why?" Tk blinked. "I'm fine."

"Because you were sitting in the rain at two in the morning, Tk."

"But you already know why."

"He doesn't."

Tk groaned and set his mug down again. He didn't really feel like chasing down the panicky canine, but he felt like he was obligated to. He almost slid from the stool when he heard the gentle hum of the TV, playing in the living area, get interrupted by a weather alert.

Tk felt his phone vibrate, and for a brief moment, he felt hopeful that Carlos had texted him, but the hope was replaced with fear the moment he looked down and came face to face with the same alert from the TV.

TORNADO WARNING IN EFFECT FOR TRAVIS COUNTY UNTIL 4:00AM CST.

AT 1:50 AM, A SEVERE THUNDERSTORM CAPABLE OF PRODUCING A LARGE AND DANGEROUS TORNADO WAS LOCATED IN SAN SABA, MOVING SOUTHEAST AT 40MPH.

THIS IS A TORNADO EMERGENCY FOR THE COUNTIES OF SAN SABA, BURNETT, LLANO, BLANCO, TRAVIS, HAYS, CALDWELL, BASTROP AND FAYETTE. TAKE COVER NOW. THIS IS A PARTICULARLY DANGEROUS SITUATION.

HAZARD: DAMAGING TORNADO.

SOURCE: CHASER OBSERVATION.

IMPACT: YOU ARE IN A LIFE THREATENING SITUATION. FLYING DEBRIS MAY BE DEADLY TO THOSE WITHOUT SHELTER. MOBILE HOMES WILL BE DESTROYED. CONSIDERABLE DAMAGE TO HOMES, BUSINESSES, AND VEHICLES IS LIKELY AND COMPLETE DESTRUCTION IS POSSIBLE.

THE TORNADO WILL BE NEAR

BURNETT AT 2:10AM

LLANO AT 2:30AM

BLANCO AT 2:45AM

TRAVIS AT 3:15AM

HAYS AT 3:30AM

CALDWELL AT 3:40AM

BASTROP AT 3:45AM.

HEAVY RAINFALL MAY HIDE THIS TORNADO. DO NOT WAIT TO SEE OR HEAR THIS TORNADO. SEEK SHELTER IMMEDIATELY.

TORNADO DAMAGE THREAT... CATASTROPHIC.

Tk set his phone down on the counter, fingers shaking in fear. In his experience, Austin rarely got tornados, and according to Carlos and Judd, Central Texas natives, his theory was correct.

So why was this the second one in less than a year that Tk found himself caught in?

He was beginning to think he was a disaster magnet; that something about him pulled misfortune towards him and his loved ones. How else could he explain the past? The cancer, the first tornado, the gunshot, the solar storm... all of this had to be his fault, somehow, right? It doesn't just happen, does it?

"Try Carlos again. I'm gonna wake up the crew. We're sleeping in the bay until this passes."

"Dad—"

"Call him and take cover, Tk."

Tk nodded quickly, leaving his scarcely sipped mug of tea on the island in the kitchen. He was shaking so much that it took him three tries to actually manage to hit Carlos's contact. He was still shaking when he brought the phone to his ear, hoping that maybe the alert would have woken him up. He needed it to. He needed him, he needed Carlos to talk to him and love him and tell him that everything was okay.

Pick up, pick up, pick up.

"Hello?"

"Carlos? Hi, hey- hi, yeah it's me." Tk breathed out. His breaths were short, and his lip was trembling, and he was pretty sure Carlos could both hear and see the panic through the phone. "Hey, baby, are you okay? You haven't answered my texts—" Tk cut himself off, jumping when a loud crack of thunder shook the house.

I was out there, like, ten minutes ago, it can't be that bad.

He pulled his phone away from his face, first recognizing the lack of water coming from his previously wet face. He started to notice how he was drying off, almost less than damp.

Friday, November 13, 2020. 2:55AM

"There's a tornado coming."

"Again?" He could hear the sleep in Carlos's voice. It scared him that he was so calm, but what scared him more was the sound of hail hitting the house in the background. "That's... It's pretty bad out there, damn."

"Do you have a storm shelter, babe?" Tk was close to tears at this point. He had made himself a home on the back of the rig, his knees pressed to his chest, his chest heaving against his knees. He could hear the exhausted mumbling and shuffling of the team slowly climbing down the stairs. Tk recognized that they, like Carlos, did not yet understand the gravity of the situation at hand. That didn't ease Tk's nerves at all.

"Austin doesn't really get tornadoes, T."

"Then get in the bathtub or something, Carlos, I know it's gonna be uncomfortable but, babe, I—"

"It's not that bad, Tk."

"Damage estimation is catastrophic, Carlos." Tk pleaded. His gaze was zoned in on his father, who was approaching him with a matching look of worry.

"What? It can't be—"

"Carlos it's headed right for us, please, just listen to me."

Tk was crying, now, his sobs most likely small; futile against the loud pounding of the rain and hail against the roof. He could hear it pick up on Carlos's end, and he wanted to yell at him, cry and scream and tell him to get in the fucking bathtub, but he was cut off by Carlos.

"Are you safe?" His voice was more alert, now, and Tk let himself relax. He could hear Carlos shuffling around his house, most likely heading downstairs.

"I'm at the station, 'Los. I've got the whole team here, and my dad and Buttercup. I'm okay." Tk could still feel himself pleading, silently, for Carlos to get to a safe spot. He could feel the weight of the exhausted hush of the station. Carlos was their family, too. That became abundantly clear after the shooting. When Tk and Carlos made it official, Carlos started cooking lunches for the whole station, most days. They had practically adopted him, even in such a short time.

So this? This was fucking horrifying.

Tk was shaking. He heard the wind pick up outside, though he wasn't sure if it was just his mind playing tricks on him, or if it was on Carlos's end. It was just loud.

Loud, loud, loud.

The pounding of his heart matched the pounding of the hailstones. The shaking of his fingers matched the rhythm of the raindrops. His shaking breath matched the frequency of the angry wind. Everything was just so fucking loud.

"Okay, okay, Tk I'm headed to the bathroom—"

The sound was so loud that it fell into silence upon Tk's deaf ears.

He heard the wind on the other line pick up, and the sound of glass shattering, and the angry howl of the rotating death trap that was clearly right on top of his boyfriend's home. He could hear Carlos, though he wasn't sure how. His voice was faint, and choppy, and scared. Tk could tell that much, that, as the tornado ripped through the home.

He was scared.

So am I.

Tk found himself gripping onto the phone, listening to the destruction, mumbling a medley of, "Carlos," and "Guys," and "Dad," but he was unable to finish any sentence. He was spiraling; going faster than the tornado that very clearly just tore through Carlos and his home. He wanted to get up, and sprint out of the bay, and scream down the street that he was coming; that he was going to help, but he remained frozen, under the stares of his team, hoping, praying that Carlos was alright.

But the line was approaching silent, and Carlos had long stopped screaming, so Tk was left with the same pitter patter of the rain and hail against the roof of the station.

"Carlos, baby?" He tried.

Silence.

"Carlos, tell me you're okay, please."

Nothing.

"Carlos, please—"

The alert was what woke Carlos up; not the thunder, nor the rain nor hail nor flashes of lightning. Not the text tones flooding through his phone from Tk.

No, it was the second send-through of an unexpected tornado warning, followed by an eager call from Tk.

Carlos slid the answer button across the screen before placing the phone to his ear. "Hello?" His voice was groggy, similar to his expression and body. He sat up rather quickly, though, when he heard the panicking, hitching breath of his boyfriend.

"Carlos? Hi, hey- hi, yeah it's me." The other answered. "Hey, baby, are you okay? You haven't answered my texts—"

Carlos could hear the pause, and the muffled footsteps and mumbling of the team at the station. He was about to say something to them on the off chance that they were, in fact, listening in on the call, but before he could get a word out, Tk was already speaking again."

"There's a tornado coming."

Carlos internally groaned, irritated that the weather was deciding to play tricks on him. He just wanted to sleep through the night, his only night off until next weekend. But, no, this just had to be happening. "Again?" Carlos sighed, eyes grazing his empty bedroom. Normally he would have Tk next to him, when their shifts matched up, but Tk decided to take up extra shifts to make up for his absence while recovery, and now Carlos was stuck peeking through his window at the storm, alone.

But he understood Tk's panic at the first flash of lightning.

He could see sheets of rain flying horizontally towards the neighbor's houses, hailstones indenting the lawn, and leaves and small branches flying off the trees into an abyss of dark wall just behind his line of sight. "That's... it's pretty bad out there, damn."

"Do you have a storm shelter, Babe?"

Carlos almost scoffed. "Austin doesn't really get tornadoes that often, T."

"Then get in the bathtub or something, Carlos, I know it's gonna be uncomfortable but, babe, I—"

Carlos could hear the panic settling in Tk's chest. He also knew that if he didn't get it under control, Tk would mostly remain stuck in that spiral for days at least. So, in a panic, Carlos tried to ease his mind. "It's not that bad, Tk."

He knew it was the wrong thing to say as soon as he said it. Carlos knew better than to undermine someone's fears. He knew first hand how irritating it could be, and Tk was most likely with his dad. If he was still this freaked out, with Owen there, it must be enough to warrant Carlos a little worry as well.

"Damage estimation is catastrophic, Carlos."

"What? It can't be—"

"Carlos it's headed right for us, please, just listen to me."

Carlos sat up straight, his exhaustion ridden hands now shaking. He yanked a pillow and blanket off his bed, knowing, just by the sound outside that he had little to no time to make it down to his downstairs bathroom. He didn't know what he was going to do, but he was quick to sprint out of the room.

He really needed Tk, right about now. "Are you safe?"

"I'm at the station, 'Los. I've got the whole team here, and my dad and Buttercup. I'm okay."

Carlos let out a sigh of relief, but the sigh was quickly replaced by the howl of wind, and the sound of shattering glass.

He was out of time.

Carlos made the decision to jump under the kitchen table, and throw the blanket over himself as all hell broke loose around him. He could feel pieces of furniture get thrown against his body, and the howling of the wind outmatching his screaming. He didn't mean to cry out as much as he did, but this was terrifying for him. He held the pillow over his head as he felt himself get picked up. It was only for a brief moment, fleeting, in which the rain and debris mushed together to make a glass shard like substance, that pelted against his body and face. Carlos didn't know how to function anymore. Here he was, midair, knuckles clinging to a cell phone and a pillow, not knowing if the sky would ever set him down; spit him out. It felt like hours; hours of being pelted by endless debris; glass and metal and wood, before he was shoved down on a pile of rubble.

In reality it ended just as quick as it started.

But now Carlos was sandwiched in between his kitchen and his living room, with no space in between, barely conscious, and bleeding. It was horrifying for him, not only being trapped in his own leveled home, but also in his head, hearing Tk on the other line, calling out to him, but he couldn't really do anything but listen.

And he could barely listen.

Tk was grasping the phone, his fingers curled around the ball of glass and plastic and metal in his hands. His knuckles were bone white, wet with the raindrops from his eyes. He was still on the line with his boyfriend, but Carlos wasn't answering him, and he didn't notice until now, but his dad was holding onto him; hands around his shoulders, with a matching look of horror.

He was probably there to keep him from doing something brash.

"Carlos?" Tk tried one more time.

But there was still nothing, and Tk was starting to fear the worst.

"Tk?" His father muttered. He reached out his hand, for his phone, presumably.

"No, no, no, Dad, I'm not hanging up on him, I—"

"I'm not asking you to." Owen's words were straight and to the point, yet gentle enough to let Tk know that he wasn't lying to his son. "I just want to see your phone, T, okay? That's it."

"Why can't you use yours?" Tk set one of his hands down between his trembling knees. It got a firm lick from buttercup, followed by a whine that nearly perfectly mimicked Tk. The dog wagged his tail, and tilted his head at the boy, almost as if he were trying to assure him, just like the rest of the team.

"I'm just," Owen started, gently tugging on the phone. Tk yanked it back to his chest, shaking his head like he needed it to survive.

He needed Carlos to survive.

"I just wanna talk to him, Tk, okay? I promise. That's all." Owen held an open palm towards his son, and waited. There was a silent communication between them, like they could tell what each other were thinking, and how much they were thinking. Their eyes met, and with a small hiccup, Tk dropped the phone into his father's hand.

"Don't.. don't hang up."

"I wouldn't dream of it, okay? I'm gonna go over here," Owen gestured to a corner. "I want you to just sit, and breathe, okay, Tk? We've got you."

"We need to get him."

"We will, T, don't worry."

"How could I not worry, Dad, he's—"

"Take a breath, Tk."

Tk could feel his hands traveling up to rake through his hair; a self soothing gesture that he had picked up in high school. Carlos normally was the one doing it, these days, in bed in the mornings, or on particularly intimate dates. His hands were so soft and gentle and kind and smooth and—

Tk's were nothing of the sort.

He started to pull on the follicles, breaths increasing; sharp and painful. He was audibly wheezing at this point, and his father had just... just left? To that corner? He was ten feet away and Carlos was eight miles away and he needed them both so bad that he couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe.

"Tk, Buddy, deep breaths."

Tk didn't know who was talking to. He only knew who he wanted to be talking to him.

"Can't."

"Yeah, you can. You can, Kid."

Dad? 

No, corner. 

Carlos? 

No, dying. 

Dying, dying, dying, dead. 

Who the fuck is talking to me? 

"C'mon, man, you know the drill. try and breathe real slow for me. Can you do that?"

Judd. 

Oh, right, the fucking team is here. Why are they here?

Tk felt his wings inflating in horror. He was sick, he was tired. Every breath was a chore, yet he was still breathing. Why was he still breathing? Why was this happening? 

"It hurts."

"I know," Judd replied. He was crouched in front of Tk, his hands reached towards him. Judd made no attempt to touch Tk, and Tk was kind of grateful, for he knew if anyone but his father touched him, he would probably shive them back in a horrified rage.

He could hear his dad, speaking into the phone microphone, but he couldn't quite decipher what he was saying, or who he was saying it to. Was he talking to Carlos? Did he seriously think that was going to help? Carlos was fucking dying, and his dad was mumbling nonsense into his phone at him. How was that fair?

Dying, dying, dead.

Tk managed to take a longer breath and scoot himself;f back against the cold metal of the rig. Time was moving so slow, yet so quickly. The clock in his head was ticking at different pitches and paces, the frequencies contributing to the unwavering chaos inside his head. He was sick, vibrating, needing to scream and cry and yell and go to him.

"I need to get to him."

"You've gotta wait for the storm to pass, Tk."

"No!" Tk yelled. "No, I need to go, now! Right now, please."

"Tk, we can't."

"Just let me—"

"You can't."

It took all his restraint not to punch Judd in the face at that moment. Desperation had taken ahold of him, and was pulling on his limbs like a puppet. He tried to restrain himself, but the more he fought, the more he realized the strings tangled, and tightened, and tore him apart. Normally when he got like this, it was Carlos that came along with the scissors to cut him free, but he couldn't. Carlos couldn't cut him free when he was the strings.

They felt like his hands; his arms. But they were cold; fixed in the position they were in as they tugged further and further against him. 

This isn't him. This is you.

"How long?" Tk murmured under his breath, still refusing to open his eyes.

"At least a half an hour."

"That's too long!"

He was about to start panicking again, but he felt his father approach again, and wrap his arms around him. It was the only embrace that could keep him from going off the deep end, for he had just gotten Carlos, and now he was losing him. His dad was all he really had at this moment, and though he wasn't what he needed, Tk could feel some of the hold loosen, and he was able to collapse into the chest of Owen Strand.

"It's gonna be a little bit, Tk, but as soon as it's out of Travis, we have the green light to go help with clean up. We'll drop by Carlos's first thing, okay?"

"What if he is dead, dad?"

"You can't do that to yourself, Tk. We don't know anything right now, and it's going to tear you apart if you let it. We'll be out of here in half an hour, tops."

 There was something about Owen Strand's voice that sent Tk's panic a couple steps back towards its cage. It always had. Even when he was little, crying over the phone about how he was getting picked on at school, or in the hospital after Tk's mistakes were made public to his father, Owen always knew exactly what to say, and how to say it so that Tk would naturally relax, even if it was just a little.

"I love him, Dad."

He knew he had said it, earlier, but this time was the first confession that Tk had ever actually truly believed. He loved him. He loved Carlos Reyes to an extent unfathomable to him. The past seven months with him had managed to be the first taste of Heaven that Tk had since he was a teenager. Not even Alex had made him feel the way Carlos did. He made him feel so loved; so respected. Carlos was careful and kind and it melted Tk to the bone to even think about.

He was so scared, now, though, and he was positive that Carlos, if he could feel anything, had a matching fear ebbing at him. It was like he could feel what Carlos was thinking. He could feel what he was feeling. He wasn't sure if he was just projecting onto the other that he was feeling, himself, but Tk knew how similar he and Carlos were. He knew that they carried themselves the same, thought the same. They finished each other's sentences. It wasn't as far of a reach as it used to be, to know each other so well.

But I want to know him better. Let me know him better.

Thirty minutes passed by, but it felt like days, to Tk.

He was curled up against his father for twenty of them, silently crying while the rest of the 126 tried to sleep. Owen was rubbing circles on his back until he squeezed his shoulder.

"Suit up, Bud."

Tk nodded quickly and swallowed. He felt the claws of desperation loosening again, allowing him to set foot on the bay once more. Breathing was strange without his knees to his chest. It was so easy that it was hard, but Tk didn't really mind, after spending so long, breathing so short. It was a welcome change.

Suiting up was muscle memory. It was reflexive. Tk was thankful, since he most likely would have sooner dropped dead than actually think about anything. 

His turnout coat was heavy on his shoulders. He felt like his muscles were screaming at him to take it off, to just sit in the back of the truck the whole time, and watch the cleanup process, but that wasn't his job. His job was search and rescue, now, but he had priorities. They just weren't in order. For some reason, grief was the first idea that popped into his mind, though he could still hear gentle rainfall on the other line. He hadn't heard a word from Carlos since the tornado hit him. Tk didn't understand how. He was positive that, if Carlos could, in any degree, Carlos would try as hard as he could to let him know that he was still there.

But there was nothing but raindrops, which led Tk ti believe that Carlos wasn't there; at least not physically.

His father forced him into the front of the rig, sandwiched between he and Paul.

Tk watched as the station doors opened for the first time since the all clear. He didn't know what he was expecting, but it wasn't what he saw. The world had been flipped on its axis. It was like the planet stopped its rotation and started going the other way. He was surprised the station was still standing, judging based off the conditions outside those doors.

Tk must have visibly stiffened, because he felt his father's hand fly to his knee and give it a squeeze. 

"What's his address, Tk? I need to let dispatch know, just in case they need us somewhere else."

"You're sure they're gonna let us just... go wherever?"

"Its an emergency, isn't it?" Owen blinked. "Besides, Judd pulled some strings." Owen seemed filled with a false sense of optimism. It was practiced and familiar; a persona adopted in times of crisis. It was mainly used around Tk, in an attempt to slow and calm the emotional turmoil of whatever situation they managed to get themselves into. It was similar to Owen's presented attitude in regards to the divorce. Normally, Tk would find it comforting, but now? Now, he was painfully aware that the pursed smile was laced with terror, and the lax shoulders were obviously rehearsed.

So, Tk forced his blurry gaze to the floor, almost unable to look up at the damage around them.

Carlos lived closer to the station than Tk had anticipated. On a normal day, traffic would have made the length of the ride excruciating, but now the only thing stopping them was a couple of easily-moveable tree branches.

Still, every stop forced Tk's eyes up, only to realize that they still weren't there. 

He couldn't quite grasp the severity of the disaster that Austin had just gone through. He was thinking that, like the last one, damage was going to be bad, but he never anticipated this. He didn't anticipate leveled neighborhoods; toppled skyscrapers, holes and cracks in the road where trees were uprooted and shoved back into the pavement. Tk didn't understand how a little storm and a little wind could ruin so many lives.

Especially his.

Pulling up to a flattened mound at Carlos's address was probably the worst thing that Tk could have seen that night. At least he thought it was.

But he knew what came next. He knew they would have to help neighbors find their loved ones. He knew that they would be excavating corpses left and right, and he knew that there was no way his father was letting him into that pile of rubble without signs of life.

He was frozen in the truck, not even realizing that most of the 126 was already dispersing throughout the flattened street. His father was still next to him, and he was talking, but Tk couldn't tell to whom. He could barely make out the orders being barked at Paul and Marjan, let alone the soothing words that his father was saying. 

But, some words stuck.

"I need you to tell him you love him, Tk."

Tk wasn't sure what terrified him more, the notion of moving so fast, or the fact that the person he wanted to speed through life with was most likely dead under that ugly mound.

Tk looked at his dad with a slight shake of his head, but was soon shut down by the other. "I know you two, okay, and if there's any chance of getting a response from him—" Owen stopped and thought for a moment. "If he's alive, he's gonna say something, okay?"

"Why hasn't he?"

"Because you weren't here."

Tk flinched, and looked back down at his phone. 

Ongoing call: 1:17:28

It's been an hour.

He looked at his dad once more, and let himself nod. He didn't know what else to do but listen. His dad knew what's best.

It's been an hour.

"Come on, T. They're almost ready."

Tk slid across the seat and placed a shaky foot on the first step out of the rig. He could feel light rain misting against his face, now, but it was nothing compared to before. Before, it was a constant pounding; hard and angry, whereas now it was gentle caresses, like an apology, like the world knew what was happening to him, and Mother Nature, herself, was sorry.

Tk watched as Paul and Judd bounded back up from the back side of the mound, both giving small thumbs ups. Marjan and Mateo were already standing back by the truck, awaiting further instruction.

Tk felt like an outcast, being such a mess at his own job. He was smart; a gifted firefighter and field medic, but when it came to his family? It was like half of his professionalism was thrown out the window and replaced with unchecked emotion.

"Tk,"Owen said.

"What?"

"Call for him."

Tk felt the blood in his body drain to his toes. He never imagined that he would be in this situation. He never wanted to be, but the scenario was still hitting him. It was shoving him against the rig, pummeling him until he emotionally bled, yet he still had to work, and listen and try his best to stop the eating from consuming him.

"Carlos?" His voice shook initially. It was barely loud enough for him to hear himself, but he didn't really notice until he tried again. "Carlos, Love, its me! It's Tk! I'm here," He tried. 

At the collapsed house, the last time this happened, Tk didn't really understand the raw emotion of the father; the one who waited, just so they could find his kids faster. He didn't understand the urgency that he was facing. Tk never really understood why he didn't ask for help. He was clearly hurt; hurting, but he still waited. He still waited for them to find his kids.

Tk understood, now.

Even if he was bleeding out on the pavement, if the tornado had taken both of them hostage and not just Carlos, Tk would still be screaming for them to find the other, first, because he needed to know he was okay. He needed to know that he was safe.

"Try it again, Tk."

"I can't, Dad, he—"

"Tk, come on, just Try."

Tk let out a harsh sob, letting his fingers grip at his dampened turnout coat. 

He needed something to hold onto.

"Carlos, please," Tk cried. "Carlos, I am begging you, if you can hear me... If you can..." Tk backed up and leaned against the rig. He shook his head again, some water droplets flying away from his hair. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't do this. It took all of him not to just collapse to his knees at the slightest sign of relinquishment.

But his team looked so sad.

And Tk couldn't handle that.

"Carlos, I love you, please just answer me!"

I need him.

I need him.

I need him.

"Please."

I love him.

"Carlos, please, I need you."

I love you.

"Help me."

The response almost wasn't there. Tk almost thought he was making it up; that the reigns of desperation were now tugging at his brain.

But then he saw the look on his father's face, and he knew. He heard it, too. 

It was Carlos. He was alive. He was alive and he needed help and- and- and-

"I'm going in."

"Uh, no, you're not," Owen scolded. He could tell that his father saw it as an insane idea. There was no way, not after that little episode at the station, and the one in this very driveway. Tk knew how stupid he sounded, but desperation wasn't letting up. It was just turning him into a hyper focused nightmare. "You're too close to this, Tk."

It was like a switch was flipped in the boy, for he was now stiff and upright. He had already turned around to face the rig, reaching for one of the compartments on the truck.

But Owen swatted his hand away from the handle.

"Tk, you are staying here."

"No one knows this house like I do, Dad. Come on. He's in there and I know where."

"Then you'll guide Judd."

"You are not sending Judd."

Owen placed his arm at eye level of Tk, stopping him in his tracks. "I'm not sending you."

Tk was about to open his mouth, but Owen cut him off. "Tk, you can't, okay? I need you out here. By going in there, you're going to put not only Carlos, but yourself, in danger."

"I know what I'm doing, Dad."

"What are you gonna do if he dies before you get there, Tk? Huh, what are you going to do then?"

"He's alive."

"And I need you to keep it that way. If worse comes to worst, I"ll ket you know, but you are staying out here. End of discussion."

Tk bit his tongue and leaned back against the rig, only then realizing that he had his phone in his hand. He was quick to raise it to his ear, and listen. He could hear shallow breaths now, which was more than he heard before. It was good. He was breathing. Carlos was breathing and they were going to get him out.

Time slowed as he watched Judd's figure snake into the rubble. Normally they would have gone for one of the smaller, more nimble members of the team, but Paul was preoccupied, Tk was benched, Owen was captaining his crew the best he could, and Marjan and Mateo would most likely not be able to handle Carlos's weight. Judd was the only option.

So Tk watched him slip in. He listened to him move around the pile in an attempt to get to Carlos. He tried to breathe in between the soft grunts and shallow breaths he was hearing through the phone ad the radio.

Tk had only Ione option.

"Hi, Baby," Tk said into the phone, half not expecting the other to answer.

"Hey, T."

The aforementioned switch was flipped again, and the unchecked emotion soon flooded through his body. Tk decided to take a seat on the pavement by the rig, leaning forward win horrified, hopeful anticipation. "Hey, Love. You don't have to talk to me, okay? I know you're probably hurting really bad right now."

"You're here."

"I wish. I'm outside."

"That's here, Amor."

Tk tried to snicker, like he normally would when Carlos tried to correct him, but it came out choked. He covered his mouth in embarrassment, hoping his father didn't hear it. He just wanted to have Carlos to be in his arms again, so they could laugh together, and Tk could properly rub his technicalities into Carlos's face.

"Judd's coming to you."

"I can hear him."

Tk could hear a twinge of pain in his voice.

"What hurts, Baby?"

"Everything."

Tk groaned into the phone, halfway trying to put a smile on Carlos's face. "Any specifics?"

"There's glass."

"Where, 'Los?"

"My chest."

Tk froze, his face paling at the idea. He assumed that Carlos was probably laying face up, his back against the ground, otherwise the glass wouldn't be so obvious, and Carlos would have all his weight on it. Still, it scared the hell out of him.

"That's okay. We'll get it checked out. What else?"

"I think a pipe nicked my side, and my head really hurts, and there's a fridge on my leg, and—"

"I got eyes on him, cap."

Tk never thought he would be so happy to hear Judd's voice.

"Ryder, Status?"

Tk didn't notice until now, but his father was standing directly next to him. He was shaking the tablet in his hands, and Tk could only assume that the feed was going out.

"It's pretty okay in here, but, Cap, I don't know how good of an idea it is to extract someone in here. This structure is unstable."

"What do you suggest, Judd?"

"I'm thinkin' if you can be real careful, you can get to us from out and above."

Tk closed his eyes, one hand clenching into a fist, the other still holding onto the phone. External extraction was always tricky, but he knew Judd was right. If they moved the wrong board, or pulled the wrong wire, The pocket would come crashing down and shove the piece of glass further into Carlos's chest. Starting from the outside; digging them out was their best bet.

"Judd," Tk started.

"Copy."

"Can you possibly shine your flashlight up; see if we can see it." Tk knew he shouldn't be asking those questions. It was his father's job, but he could see that his father didn't really mind. At least not right now. He was probably going to ask the same thing.

"Copy."

Tk held his breath as he forced his gaze back to the house. He squinted slightly, trying to keep the mist from falling into his eyes. He looked on with his father, letting out a sigh of relief when he spotted a spotlight through a small crevice in the northwest of the home. He breathed out a sigh of relief, and stood.

Only then did his father nod.

"Okay, Tk, Marjan, I need you on extraction with Judd. Work quick, don't waste time."

Tk could tell that the last sentence was most definitely directed at him. He nodded anyway, and turned to Marjan. "Okay," He said. "So, you check for load bearing beams, I get the excess off, or other way around?"

The mischievous glimmer in her eyes was a source of comfort for Tk that he wasn't aware he needed. "I'm pretty sure I can hold down the fort if you want to tear some stuff up."

Tk laughed to himself.

The two were making good time. Carlos was still awake by the time they got visual. Marjan had managed to control all the load bearing beams until Tk pulled their respective loads off to the side. There were only about three boards from the skeleton of the home in between them when Tk hopped down into the house.

Carlos had landed in the kitchen. He could tell from the cracked tiles beneath them. Most of them were completely covered or broken by debris, but some remained flat. He could barely make out any resemblance the rest of the pile had to any home that Tk could recall. It was just a stack of wood and glass and metal at this point. Tk was fine with that, though, as long as Carlos was okay.

"Hey, Love. You still with me?"

Carlos only grunted in response.

Tk looked over at Judd, hoping the other had any idea of Carlos's condition, but one look at him was enough to tell him that Judd was just as in the dark as he was. They shared a look; one of mutual understanding. It was unspoken, but inevitable that Judd would wind up manning the rescue from below the rubble, while Tk did his best to keep Carlos breathing.

One look at him churned Tk's stomach.

He turned his head to assess the damage, starting at his head. There was a pretty nasty gash across his cheek, but there wasn't anything majorly concerning there. Judd had managed to free Carlos's leg, which was clearly broken. There wasn't much of anything else that really caught Tk's attention, except from the glass perturbing from his lovers chest. It looked scarily centered, practically directly between his ribs. 

God, he was so lucky and so unlucky at the same time.

Tk crawled to Carlos's side. He reached his hand out and wiped the blood from his cheek before placing his fingers on his neck.

"My heart's beating. I can hear it."

"I don't doubt it, My Love," Tk whispered. He pulled his hand back and decided to grab the other's. He could feel the shaky attempt from the other, to grip at their intertwined fingers, but Tk shook his head. "Save your strength."

"I already slept, T."

"Yeah," Tk smiled sadly. "Yeah, you did. I just can't have you do that again. Not until I say so."

"I'm not planning on it." Carlos's words were sentimental, but pained. He had his eyelids barely parted, but Tk could still see those beautiful brown irises holding eye contact.

So, he smiled.

"Good." He looked up when he heard Marjan warn them that a basket was coming down. "Thats good, yeah. Just stay awake for me, okay? This next part's not gonna feel too good for either of us, okay?"

"You never transported stabbing victim before?"  Carlos tried to joke.

Tk groaned when he heard Carlos. He was amidst catching the basket and handing it over to Judd. "You know not all stabbings are the same, and this is an impalement, not a stabbing."

"Mm, say it again," Carlos cracked again, obviously entering a state of half wit delirium. 

"No." Tk said "Now, "Los, this is going to hurt, most likely really, really bad, but you gotta stay awake for me, alright?"

"But I'm sleepy."

"We all are."

Tk made eye contact with Judd who was at Carlos's feet. They both knew how this would end. They had one chance; one shot to get this right, otherwise the glass would shift, and most likely force Carlos to bleed out.

Not that he hadn't done a pretty good job of that already.

"We're gonna pick you up, and put in this basket on three, okay? I need you to stay as still as you possibly can, okay, 'Los?"

"Already said yes."

"Yeah, well I need you to keep talking to me," Tk retorted, mainly to himself. He gave Carlos a knowing look before doing the same to Judd. "We're gonna count now, Love. On three. One, Two, Three—"

The scream that filled the air was enough to send Tk stumbling backwards after he had Carlos on the backboard. 

He'd never heard him like that, before.

"Carlos?"

The response was a labored whimper.

Tk sighed, crawling back over to him, making sure to check the glass in his chest. It didn't seem to have moved, and the only change in Carlos's condition was how hard he was crying. That was the only good thing about his tears. They meant he was alive, and that he was trying.

"You're doing so good," He whispered. He didn't even realize Judd tying the basket to the rope that Marjan had sent down until Carlos was rising in front of him, and Tk reflexively reached under to support the weight.

It wasn't until he was sitting on the floor of the ambulance, listening to the unsteady beeping of a paramedic grade cardio meter, that Tk allowed himself to break down again.

"How is he?"

Tk shot his head up from he and Carlos's intertwined fingers in order to find the source of the voice. Owen Strand was standing in the doorway, smiling desperately at his exhausted son.

"They said, uh," Tk started, gathering his thoughts. "They said he should be okay. he's got a few broken ribs; fractured sternum, which is a feat. I don't know how he managed that one, really, but they said that's why the glass was so stuck in there. It wedged itself in the bone. It was, uh, really close to his heart, but I think we all knew that. They said he's gonna be in a lot of pain, but he should pull through."

"That's really good, Tk." Owen was being genuine. Tk could feel it in the room, but the optimism still felt rehearsed on his end. He was still guilty, almost positive he could have protected him from all of this if he had been there. Owen must catch wind of that thought process, though, because the man gently approached his son, and sat beside him. "It's not your fault."

"I never said it was."

"But you were thinking it."

Tk wanted to shoot a glare at his father. she wanted to grumble and gripe at him for making such an accusation, but he was so exhausted. He didn't want to argue when he knew he was going to lose. So, instead, he leaned over, curling into his father and placing his head on his shoulder.

"Thank you for being here."

"Where else would I be, Tk?"

"Working?"

Tk had gotten off his shift early, and was forced to head to the ER with Carlos. He had lost track of time since he arrived, but since he had, Carlos had scored himself a room, and Tk had forced himself to shower and change.

"I got off a couple hours ago."

Tk sighed and shook his head. There was no point in saying anything else. He instead kept still, and stared back at Carlos, who was breathing, ever so softly.

But he was breathing.

Tk realized, in that moment, that the exchange between the air and Carlos's lungs was the only thing that mattered to him. Everything else melted away, and all that was left was the gentle breaths of the man across from him, and the strong arms draped around him.

He was with the only people he needed, and though he nearly lost one of them, today, Tk didn't know if he could be more thankful that they both existed, and both just so happened to stay in his life. That's all he wanted. That's all he needed.

"I like him, Tk," Owen said, after a long while.

"I do, too."

Tk didn't know if his eyes were playing tricks on him, after that, but he could have sworn he saw Carlos's sleeping lips crack a grin.

"I really like him."