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There’s very rarely a good 911 call, if such a thing even exists, but Carlos thinks domestic cases have to be the worst. Worse than vicious bar brawls and random muggings and ten car pile ups with too many casualties and no-one to blame but a patch of ice on the road. Situations like these are ugly and raw, and they break Carlos’s heart.
It’s in the way the victim shakes as they’re led over to medical, bruised and broken and scared. It’s in the way the worst parts of humanity come to a startling light, the only remorse in the fact that they got caught. It’s in the way that sometimes they’re too late, and their only job is the hollow justice of getting the abuser locked up.
He’s grateful that tonight wasn’t one of those nights.
Carlos sighs and hands the guy off to another officer, reaching for his radio. “Dispatch this is 363-H-20, Officer Reyes, suspect is in custody,” he reports. “Clearing the scene.”
“Thank you, Officer.” Grace pauses, and when she speaks again, she’s dropped her professional tone. “How’s Kristen?”
Carlos glances to the ambulance where Kristen is sitting, wrapped in a shock blanket and staring blankly ahead. He wants to go over and check on her, but he knows what he must look like to her.
A tall, vaguely imposing man with a gun? Even with his uniform - or perhaps especially with it - Carlos knows he’s probably the last kind of person she wants to see. He’s got no desire to cause her any more pain.
“She’s alive,” he settles on, and he imagines it’s all Grace was expecting to hear. “She’ll make it through this.”
“Thanks, Carlos.”
The line goes dead and Carlos breathes out shakily, eyes still locked on Kristen. He barely notices when Rachel comes up next to him, and jumps when she squeezes his shoulder.
“You alright, Reyes?” she asks, though her eyes tell him she knows exactly where his head’s at.
He manages a tight nod. “Yeah. It’s just… All this. It sucks, you know?”
The words sound pathetic even to his ears, but Rachel just smiles sympathetically. “Yeah, I know,” she sighs. “Come on. Let’s get this bastard put away and then we can drown our sorrows at the nearest bar.”
A barely-there smile tugs at his lips. “You know we’re still on the clock, right?”
“Coffee, then.”
“Deal.”
Carlos swallows nervously as he navigates the hospital, shaking fingers smoothing down the non-existent creases in his uniform. It’s been more than 24 hours since the call with Kristen, and his superiors seem to want to get this one closed as soon as possible. Not that Carlos blames them.
It’s a fairly open-and-shut case anyway, but they still need Kristen’s statement. Carlos had been assigned to get it, having been the one who ran point on the arrest, and he’s not sure if he’s glad or not. On the one hand, he does want to see how she’s doing. On the other, it’s barely been a day since she was jumping out of her third floor apartment, and the last thing he wants to do is make her relive it.
But someone has to do this, and Carlos would rather be here than not.
He takes a steadying breath before knocking gently on the doorframe to Kristen’s room. She’s sitting up in the bed, picking at the sheets, and Carlos attempts what he hopes is a reassuring smile when she looks over.
“Hello,” he says quietly. “My name is Carlos, I’m with Austin PD. Can I come in?”
Kristen surveys him warily for a moment longer, then nods, eyes tracking him as he moves to the seat by her bed. Technically, this isn’t protocol; he should really remain standing, but protocol can hang for all Carlos cares.
He pulls out his notebook, resisting the urge to tap the pen against the pages. “How are you doing?”
She shrugs. “They’re discharging me later.”
It’s a non-answer if Carlos has ever heard one, but he chooses not to push. “Have you got somewhere safe to go?” he tries instead.
“My mom’s taking me to her place,” she responds. “She’ll be back soon, I think she just went to get me some clothes. I don’t feel safe at home.”
Carlos’s chest aches. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“He knows where I live.” Kristen’s voice shakes and she’s holding onto the sheets in a death grip. Carlos grimaces and swallows past the lump in his throat.
“Well, thanks to you, I can promise you that you won’t have to worry about him again,” he says. “He’ll be going away for a very long time.”
Her smile is fleeting, barely lifting the corners of her mouth, but the sight eases some of the weight in Carlos’s chest anyway.
“Thank you,” she whispers. “And the woman on the phone. Without her, I -”
She breaks off, scrubbing at her face. Carlos offers her a smile of his own. “I’ll pass the message on,” he promises.
Kristen nods, taking a couple of shaky breaths. Carlos shifts awkwardly in his seat; this is the part he’s been dreading since the second he set foot in the hospital.
“Ma’am?” he says. Kristen looks up at him, hunching in on herself as she seems to anticipate his next question. “I’m sorry to ask, but would you be willing to tell me about what happened, exactly? If you’re not ready, I’ll understand - I’m sure I can figure out something to tell my supervisors.”
She hesitates, then shakes her head. “No. It… It’s okay. I’ll do it.”
“You sure?”
She nods, taking a steadying breath. “I’m sure.”
TK is already in the house when Carlos gets back that night, and he’s instantly warmed at the sight of his boyfriend puttering around the room, putting away the groceries he’d promised to pick up. It’s something Carlos could get used to very easily.
TK looks up at the sound of the door clicking behind him and a grin spreads across his face. Carlos goes over to the kitchen island to meet him, kissing him in welcome and all but collapsing into his embrace. TK must notice the way he clings on tighter than usual, as he starts rubbing soothing circles on Carlos’s back.
“Rough shift?” he murmurs.
Carlos hums. “I’ve had better days.”
TK nods, steering Carlos to the sofa as he begins to sag in his grip. They collapse onto it together, Carlos curling into TK’s side, his head resting on his chest.
TK’s fingers play with his hair. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Carlos hesitates, then shakes his head. “Not right now,” he answers. “Maybe later.”
“Whenever you’re ready, sweetheart.”
He smiles up at TK, tilting his head to kiss the inside of his wrist. TK smiles back, adjusting his grip so Carlos is practically lying across his lap. Carlos closes his eyes, relaxing into his boyfriend and finally letting the tension drain out of his body.
He’s pulled off to sleep not long after, soothed by the calming presence of his boyfriend and the promise of safety in his arms.