Chapter Text
When TK woke up, it was to pitch black darkness and blinding pain.
His headache had somehow managed to get worse during the night, and for a second, TK couldn't breathe from how much it hurt. Desperate for the comfort his boyfriend's arms would offer, he rolled over and crawled blindly to Carlos' side of the bed. The distance between them came as a surprise, because TK wasn't used to them being so far apart in sleep. His hand reached warm skin, and he sighed in relief as he laid his head on the man's chest-
-and immediately scrambled away.
He nearly fell out of the bed in his haste to get away, and just stared at the form sleeping in the, he realized belatedly, unfamiliar bed. His heart beat an erratic rythm against his chest and his head ached even worse now with the added panic. TK looked around wildly and that only confirmed what he feared; he wasn't in Carlos' home and he definitely wasn't in his bed; the bed sheets were the wrong color, the bed itself was smaller and in the middle of the room.
TK's chest rose and fell at an alarming rate and bile rose in his throat. He got out of bed and made a run for the bathroom- which wasn't where it was supposed to be. He pursed his lips in a futile attempt to keep from throwing up, but lost the battle halfway down the stairs.
He sat on a step, dazed and confused and miserable, and just stared down at the mess he'd made. Tears pricked his eyes and he didn't make an effort to stop them from falling. He didn't care about the pain, didn't care about the mess. All he could think of was this:
He'd woken up beside someone that wasn't Carlos, and that was like a punch to the gut. The weird thing was, he didn't remember how he got here. The last thing he did remember was being kidnapped by the crazy bank robbers and getting his head smashed in with the butt of a gun, and then being in the hospital.
The rest was all hazy.
And none of it explained why the man he was sleeping next to wasn't Carlos.
TK knew, in his heart, that he would never have cheated on his boyfriend, not just because he knew the feeling sucked and would never wish it on anyone else, let alone the man he loved, but because nothing, and no one, could ever compare to what he and Carlos had, to how he made him feel.
Confusion and fear took over, making his thoughts race, and he groaned as his headache got even worse. TK dropped his head in his hands. Cold metal bit at his cheek and he, ever so slowly, pulled his hands away and stared down at his left in horror.
"TK?"
He sat up straighter and wondered if this day could get any worst at this point.
"What the hell are you doing out of bed?" The man asked, annoyance clear in the words. "Is that- did you throw up? Just how much did you drink last night?"
"Alex," he breathed out, finally gathering the courage to chance a look behind him. His heart nearly stopped at the sight of his ex-boyfriend. This couldn't be real. "Why are you here?"
"Jesus." The other man huffed an exasperated breath. "Are you high?"
"I've been sober for a year," TK managed to stutter out.
Alex let out an incredulous laugh. "You're definitely high. And I don't have the time to deal with your shit; just clean up the mess and come back to bed, will you?"
That was when he saw it; a gold band, a perfect replica of TK's, sitting on the ring finger of Alex's left hand.
TK's chest constricted to the point where he felt a little lightheaded.
What was happening here? Just yesterday he'd celebrated his one year of sobriety, and he'd had Carlos. Now, he was living in his own personal hell; no Carlos, married to Alex and obviously not happy with him, and he wasn't even sober.
He took off his shirt, which was soiled with sweat and vomit and used it to mop up the mess he'd made. It was his least favorite shirt, old and ratty and basically see through, so he just bundled it up and went down the stairs to put it in the trash. He entered the kitchen and attempted to find a mop or a dish rag or anything to clean up the stairs from the remaining sick, but he couldn't find any, and didn't care enough to look very hard. He went up the stairs to the bedroom, his skin crawling at the sight of the man he'd once thought was his soulmate sleeping, grabbed his phone and went back downstairs. He sat on the couch, TV on but muted and opened his phone.
He needed to figure out what the hell was happening.
The first thing he checked was his contacts list, which was considerably shorter than he remembered it to be; the only familiar names in there were his father, his mother and Alex. His heart sank as he went on Instagram and found his feed filled with unfamiliar faces, and not the ones of the family he'd made for himself in the past year.
He searched for Carlos' profile, finding it easily and scrolled through the pictures. There weren't many, and TK wasn't surprised. He'd always had to bully and bribe the man into posting pictures, and getting him to take a selfie usually took an act of god himself.
There were a lot of pictures of him with Michelle and Iris, and some with his partner. There were a lot of pictures of Carlos with Judd and Grace and the other members of the 126, and TK felt a sudden urge to be with them, to talk to every one of them.
He went to his own page, and his eyes widened in horror as he saw pictures upon pictures of himself partying and drinking with people he didn't know. Alex was featured in many of his posts, and they looked happy.
He wondered if it was true, and in the same breath realized that they couldn't be. They couldn't be; not when he'd seen TK sitting on the stairs, shivering and miserable and had been annoyed and dismissive.
He hadn't even asked if TK was okay.
Carlos would have, he found himself thinking. Carlos wouldn't have cared about the mess, would have plopped himself beside TK and pulled him close, would have whispered soothing words of comfort into TK's ear until he was okay again.
He found himself back on Carlos' page and stared at the man's face, his smile wide and happy. There was an ache in his chest now, an ache to feel Carlos' arms around him, to feel safe and loved and warm.
Sitting alone in an unfamiliar house, cold and more alone than ever, the fear and the confusion came back with a vengeance and he curled up into a ball on the floor, trying to hold the broken pieces of himself together. It didn't work, and as his vision blurred with the tears, he took one last look at his phone, Carlos' smiling picture still there, and hugged it close to his chest.
He closed his eyes tightly and willed himself to sleep; maybe then he would wake up and find himself back where he belonged.
When he woke up, his headache was more or less gone.
He winced as he got up; sleeping on the floor had been a really bad idea. He checked his phone for the time, and was surprised to see it was 11 am. He hefted himself up and padded into the kitchen and rummaged in the cabinets until he found something he could eat.
Just as he was about to give up his search, he found a box of cereal in one of the upper cabinets, grabbed that and some milk, then started yet another search for a bowl. Once that was ready, he took it into the living room and sat on the couch, trying to think of a plan to deal with the mess he was in.
When TK thought about it, it really didn't make any sense.
To go to sleep in one life and wake up in another just didn't make sense.
He looked down at his ring, and resisted the urge to take it off. He didn't remember marrying Alex, didn't remember anything about him beyond the night he'd told him he was in love with someone else.
He didn't remember anything about this life that was supposed to be his.
He wanted his father, he wanted Carlos and he wanted his team.
He wanted to go home.
He left his untouched breakfast at the counter and hurried up the stairs to change. He wasn't very picky about what to wear, so he just picked a random t-shirt and jeans and put them on. He grabbed his wallet, his keys and his phone and headed out.
He opened the uber app, intending on taking one to his father's house, when he saw it, and his heart nearly stopped.
It couldn't be.
But- the map didn't lie, and right there, where his adress was supposed to be, it didn't say Austin.
New York.
TK wasn't in Texas anymore.
He was in New York.
Booking a flight to Austin with the last of his money probably wasn't the best idea, but TK was desperate.
He arrived in Austin five hours later, with no actual plan of action.
He didn't regret it; not when he felt like he could finally breathe again the minute he stepped out of the airport.
When he rang the bell, TK realized his hands were shaking. He didn't know if it was from the nerves, or something else he wasn't willing to consider, but he ignored it for now in favor of trying to keep himself from hyperventilating.
Right as he lifted his fist to knock on the door, it was opened.
His father looked old and tired, frown lines more prominent than he remembered them to be. He stared at TK for a few minutes, as if he couldn't believe he was actually there. His dad didn't say a word; he just stepped inside and opened the door wider.
TK wiped his sweaty hands on his thighs and looked around. The house hadn't changed much from how he remembered it from his- was he supposed to call it his other life? His imaginary life? He shook his head to clear away the thoughts and turned around to face his father. "Hey, dad."
"Hey, dad?" His father said slowly, eyes ablaze with an anger TK was rarely a witness to. "You come here after a goddamn year of barely any contact, and that's what you're going with?"
Well, that was news to him. His father stared at him, anger and bitterness radiating off him in waves, and TK realized that coming here without a plan whatsoever may have been a mistake. Was he supposed to tell his father the truth? That he was no longer sober, that he'd married Alex, and that he didn't remember any of it? Was he supposed to tell him that what he remembered was a whole other life where he was happy and loved and thriving?
Would he believe him?
"I'm sorry," his voice cracked, and with it, his father's anger vanished.
He crossed the distance between them in two quick strides and hugged him. TK's arms went up around him and he clutched his shirt in both hands, burrowing into the older man's embrace. The first sob that tore out of his throat was unexpected, but it had been a long time coming, so he let it go. He let it all go, and he relished in the saftey his father's arms provided.
Owen guided them both to the couch, and continued to hold TK as he cried.
Eventually, when he ran out of tears to shed, he pulled away and then curled in on himself, not saying a word.
"Why are you here, TK?"
He sniffled. "I don't know. I just- I feel lost," he admitted. "I don't know how I got to this point. I had-" he cut himself off before he could say anything that might have his father admitting him into a psych ward and changed gears. "I don't recognize myself anymore."
Owen sighed and stood up. "I'm gonna make coffee. You want some?"
TK nodded and his father disappeared into the kitchen.
A lot sooner than he expected, his father was back with two mugs in his hands. He handed one to TK and sat down beside him. "How long has it been since your last hit?"
TK chocked on his coffee, and coughed a few times. His father didn't make a move to help, just watched him. When TK regained his breath, he opened his mouth to say the truth; his truth, which was that he hadn't touched a pill or a drink in over a year. But he couldn't say that now, because he knew without a shadow of a doubt that his father wouldn't believe him.
Apparently he'd taken too long to answer, because Owen continued. "You're shaking, you're sweating, your pupils are dilated and you're looking a bit green, so I'm guessing you're feeling nauseous?"
TK remained quiet, because as much as he hated to admit it, his father was probably right.
You're not an addict, he tried to tell himself. You've been sober for a year.
This is just a dream.
But if it was, then why hadn't he woken up yet?
"Are you here to ask for money, TK?"
"No! No, I swear." He took a breath. "I'm gonna ask you to do something, and it's gonna sound crazy, but I need you to do it for me, okay?"
His father nodded wearily. "Altight."
"Tell me what happened?"
His father frowned in confusion. "What do you mean?"
"Why did I go to New York? Why did I marry Alex?"
His father's frown deepened, and he searched TK's face for something, though he wasn't sure what it was.
"You went to New York because Alex asked you to after he proposed," he told him slowly.
"Why would I leave my job here, my home, to go with Alex after he cheated on me?"
Had he even cheated on him?
"I don't know, TK, you tell me!"
He flinched, and his father patted his knee in a wordless apology. "Why did I leave, dad?"
"You showed up hungover to a shift, hell; you were probably still drunk even. Got into a fight with Judd. Mateo got in between you two and got a punch that was aimed at Judd."
TK swallowed and looked down. He couldn't deny it, couldn't ask his father if he was kidding so he kept his mouth shut and listened.
"You were fired after that, and Alex came down here a week later, asked you to forgive him. You agreed and went with him."
He shook his head. "Why would I do that?" He looked at his father,pleading with him silently to help him understand. "Why didn't you stop me?"
"You don't think I tried, kid? You cut me off, you ignored my calls and-"
"Okay, stop, just stop!"
TK sprang off the couch and headed for the door, ignoring his father's calls for him to come back.
Only when he was out of the house, only when he'd ran for what was probably a good five minutes, did he realize that he'd left in such a hurry that he'd left his phone and his wallet at his father's.
He walked around aimlessly for some time, and an hour later, he found himself in front of a very familiar building.
When he looked down at his hands, he realized that he was holding his key chain in his hands, the move almost instinctive. He stared down at it, and the ache in his chest grew into a black hole that threatened to swallow him whole when he noticed one missing.
TK shook his head and reluctantly walked away, knowing he wouldn't be welcome. Hell, he wasn't even sure if Carlos would even know him.
TK sat down on the sidewalk.
So far, he hadn't allowed himself to examine his situation too closely. He'd woken up to a completely new life, one he didn't recognize, and though part of him believed that the other life was his real one, a bigger part of him thought that this messed up version of it seemed to fit better.
TK was a screw up. No matter how hard he tried, he always ended up ruining his own life. So, this, relapsing, going back to Alex, to New York, fit better if he were to look at his track record.
TK brought his knees to his chest, wrapped his arms around them and sniffled. He looked down at his shaking hands, yet another proof of his screw up and bit back a scream of frustration.
"Sir, are you okay?"
His heart leapt into his throat at the familiar, comforting sound of Carlos' voice and looked up slowly.
Carlos took an involuntary step back. "TK?"
There was a flutter in his chest, and all he wanted to do was run up to the man, wrap his arms around him and never let him go.
"Hey, Carlos."
He didn't know what he expected, but it wasn't for Carlos to shake his head and then back away from him, leaving him sitting there without a backward glance. "Carlos! Wait!"
He ignored him, and TK ran after him, stopping him with a hand on his chest.
"Don't," the other man bit out, and TK realized with a jolt that Carlos was well and truly angry. He stepped out of the way and let him walk past him, stunned.
The other man stopped a few feet away and turned to face him. "What the hell are you even doing here?!" He exclaimed.
TK took a step back, and he was sure his surprise was plain on his face. Carlos stalked closer but TK didn't back away, some part of him knowing instinctively that no matter how pissed the other man was at him, no version of Carlos would ever hurt him.
"I don't know," he lied.
"Why are you here, TK?" He asked him through gritted teeth. "Huh? Why are you here?!"
"Because I wanted to see you, okay?!" He burst out. Carlos reeled back, and he somehow managed to look stunned, confused and pissed off, all at the same time. TK didn't blame him.
"Why?"
He shrugged. "I missed you," he blurted out.
Carlos laughed right in his face. "You missed me? You barely knew me, TK! You left before you could."
"What happened?"
"God, you're an asshole, you know that?"
He smiled wryly. "I do. Just please tell me what happened between us?"
Carlos shook his head. "Is this a game to you? Because as I recall, you were there too!"
"Please?"
Carlos chewed on his lip and took a deep breath, obviouslytrying to reign his anger in. "You stood me up. You agreed to go on a date with me, and then you stood me up. I found out the next day from your dad that you'd gone back to New York. That's what happened, TK. Now, if you'll excuse me-"
That didn't make any sense. It just didn't. There was no version of TK that had the choice between Carlos and Alex and chose Alex. There was just no way. He swallowed thickly and watched the man walk away, watched him disappear into his home, and all the while, he just kept praying, pleading with whoever was listening, to wake him up.
He went back to his father's house several hours later, tired, in pain and miserable. His father let him inside without a word.
He watched TK curl on the couch and came to stand in front of him. "You haven't used," he observed, clearly surprised.
TK just looked at him, and a fraction of what he was feeling must have shown on his face because his dad bodily lifted him up and then held him close. "Why are you really here, TK?"
"I don't even know anymore."
TK was in full blown withdrawal by the time the sun came up, and he hadn't slept a wink. He'd considered going out and using, but every time he tried to get up, his mind conjured up the image of his father's hopeful face when he'd realized TK hadn't gotten high when he left, and he would force himself to lay back down and take the pain.
He thought of maybe taking a walk around the house, but quickly decided his legs wouldn't be able to hold him up if he attempted it.
In the morning, he was only a little better, but he tried to pretend otherwise. He smiled widely at his dad when he emerged from his room, agreed to eat breakfast with him even though the mere though of food had his stomach rolling and ten minutes after he left, TK did the same.
He got bored about halfway through his day, so without putting too much thought into it, he headed for the station.
When he got there, he took a breath and had to smile as he saw his team gathered around and joking with one another. He approached them hesitantly, his father's words still burned in the back of his mind.
"Hey, guys," he greeted them nervously.
They all turned to face him, and once the shock wore off, their expressions settled on varying degrees of disdain at his presence.
It hurt like hell.
He'd actually wanted to talk to them, but now, after seeing their reactions, he thought better of it. He backed away with a nod in their direction, which they ignored.
"What the hell is he doing back here?" He heard Judd ask.
"He might want his job back," Paul guessed.
Marjan scoffed while Mateo just uttered a worried, "Cap wouldn't agree to that, right?"
"After the shit he pulled? He better not," was Marjan's opinion.
TK swallowed thickly and refused to think about how hurtful that had been. He took the stairs two at a time and knocked at his father's door.
"TK?" His father stood up and ushered him in. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah, just- got bored. Figured I could come check in."
His father smiled. "I'm glad you're here, kid."
His father was watching him wearily, and he knew exactly what he was looking for. He held his shaking hands up to him. "Still clean."
Owen sighed. "Sorry. Habit, I guess."
"I'm sorry, dad."
"Listen, I've been thinking- does your coming back here have anything to do with getting your job back?"
TK frowned. "No, I just- felt stuck there. I wasn't happy, and I guess I wanted to come home." He cocked his head to the side and noted the relieved look in his father's eyes. "Why do you ask?"
"We've talked about how you can't be a firefighter anymore, I know we have, but I was worried you'd-"
"What?"
Owen eyed him closely, brows furrowed. "Kid, with your history, and the fact that the crew can't trust you after what happened a year ago- you can't get your job back."
TK's heart was lodged into his throat. This isn't real. It's just a dream. Don't fight it, because you're gonna wake up and you're gonna have your life back.
It still hurt to hear, though, because losing his job because of addiction had always been his worst fear.
He shook it off, then made to stand up. "I get it."
"Hey," his dad rounded the desk and stood in front of him. "You staying? Your room is still there, you know."
This isn't real.
"Yeah, dad. I think I might stay."
He left the station in a daze, unable and unwilling to think about any of what he'd just found out.
He walked around aimlessly; with no destination in mind when he set out. He tired easily and thankfully found a bench nearby to sit on.
It all happened in the blink of an eye.
One minute, all was calm, and the next there was a screech of tires, a woman's horrified scream and her frantic calls for someone to wake up.
TK didn't waste a second. He jumped up and ran as fast as he could to where a young woman was bent over a little boy, sobbing. She leaned forward, probably intending on lifting him up, and TK lunged for her. He swatted at her hands. "You can't move him," he told her sternly. Then he looked around. "Someone call 911, now," he called out, and saw several people taking out their phones. He checked the boy's pulse, and was relieved to feel it, faint as it may be. "What's his name?" He asked the devastated mother.
"Jamie," she answered him.
"Okay. Jamie, buddie, can you hear me?" There was no answer, so TK rubbed the boy's sternum with the knuckle of his index finger. This elicited a groan. "Jamie, buddie, can you open your eyes for me?" He looked to the mother, who was now crying silently. "Talk to him," he urged her, then continued to check they boy for any other injuries, finding a broken leg and some internal bleeding. When fire and medical arrived, TK was relieved to see it wasn't the 126, and he was happy when they assured him that the boy would be okay.
The young mother, just before she climbed into the ambulance, threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. "Thank you so much."
TK closed his eyes, and basked in the warmth her gratitude. He hadn't felt this good since he woke up in this hell of a reality.
"TK?"
His head snapped up and he frowned in confusion as Carlos approached him cautiously, as if he were a spooked animal. He wished he could be happy to see him, but all he felt was cold and pain. He wanted to speak, but his teeth were chattering so much that he wasn't sure he could, and not to mention the fact that if he opened his mouth, he was pretty sure he was going to throw up.
"TK? Hey, what happened?"
His frown deepened. "Huh?" He managed to stutter out.
"What happened here?" TK just shook his head, still not understanding. "Your hands are all bloody."
He looked down at his hands, and realized that yeah, Carlos was right, his hands were pretty bloody, and his shirt was too. It took him a second to get his bearings, and once he did, he realized how this must look to anyone walking past him. Someone must have called the cops, and it was just his luck that Carlos had to be the one to respond.
"Can you tell me what happened?"
"There was an accident," he stuttered out. "A boy got hit by a car. I helped."
"Okay," he said soothingly. "Okay, I believe you, but I need you to come with me to the precinct, okay?"
He looked up at him, and his eyes must have showed the hurt he was in because Carlos softened. "Come on, TK."
He helped him up, and when TK took the first step, his knees buckled. Carlos was there though, and he caught him just before he hit the ground. The other man held him up, and TK unconsciously moved his body closer to his, the warmth radiating off him comforting and intoxicating at the same time. Carlos didn't push him away, but he did seem rigid. TK would have pulled away, because the last thing he wanted was to make Carlos uncomfortable, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to hold himself up if he did.
The ride to the precinct was silent. And even while he was sitting at the chair beside Carols' desk, they didn't speak a word to each other.
TK wanted to tell him so many things.
Confirming his story took less than an hour, and by then, TK could barely keep his eyes open. He must have dozed off, because a firm touch to his shoulder jolted him awake.
"Hey, it's okay; it's just me."
"Carlos?"
"Yeah, TK. Come on, up." He did as he was told, struggling up to his feet. He managed two steps before an intense stomach cramp hit and brought him to his knees.
"TK!"
TK gasped and clawed at his own thighs, waiting for the pain to subside. Then there were arms around him, pulling him up.
"You're okay. It's okay."
"I'm not," TK sobbed. "And it's not gonna be okay. I hate this."
"Come on, let's get you cleaned up."
Carlos helped him up to his feet yet again, then steered him in the direction of the bathrooms. He propped him up against one of the sinks, then grabbed both his hands and put them under the running water. He was gentle with him, rubbing his hands with soft fingers, like TK was something delicate, like he was something to handled with care. He watched as he grabbed a few paper towels and dried his hands with them. "All don- TK? Are you okay?"
That was when TK realized he was silently crying.
"I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"For this," he let out a shudder. "For making you do this when you obviously hate me."
Carlos sighed and stepped closer. "I don't hate you, TK." He wet his hand and touched it to TK's face. The cool sensation was welcome, though it did make him shiver. Carlos wiped away his tears, the touch so soft that it only made TK cry harder.
He wanted his life back.
He wanted his job, and his crew back. And he needed Carlos back. Desperately. "This isn't my life," he found himself saying the words he'd been holding in for the past couple of days. "I don't want to do this anymore."
"TK-"
"I want my life back! I don't want to be here anymore. This isn't my life."
Strong arms wrapped around him and he struggled blindly as his chest constricted. The first sob that tore out of his throat was accompanied by a scream, and then the arms tightened. "It's okay. TK, I'm here."
"You're not," he sobbed, struggling to get one full breath in. "I love you, and you're not here." The arms around him went rigid and let him go, but he was far too gone to notice, or care. "Please, I just wanna go back."
When TK jolted awake, the first thing he noticed was that he was surrounded by Carlos' scent. For a second, he thought he'd finally woken up from that awful dream.
"Hey, you're awake."
He looked up from where he was sitting on the couch, to see Carlos walking over with a glass of water. The look on his face was guarded.
TK's heart sank.
"I think we need to talk about what you said earlier. You think you're up to it?"
The answer should be no. TK slumped against the couch and rubbed a hand down his face. He could lie, make up an excuse and try to leave, but he was tired, and he'd never been any good at lying to Carlos. So what if he thought he was crazy? Hell, at this point, TK thought he was crazy, too.
"I woke up yesterday to a life I didn't recognize. I- everything is so wrong, Carlos. I'm not sober, I'm not- I'm married to a guy who cheated on me, who probably doesn't even care about me. I'm not a paramedic anymore and I probably never will be. My crew, the people I consider family, hate me guts, and you-"
Carlos' face was carefully blank, and TK hated when when that happened, because that meant he had no way of knowing what the other man was thinking. "What about me?"
"You were my rock. We were in love and we were so happy." Carlos flinched and stood up, starting to pace. TK panicked and he stood up on shaky legs to intercept him. "I know how crazy this sounds-"
"Do you? Because you seem to genuinely believe that that other life of yours was real."
It was, he wanted to scream, but he couldn't. He stayed silent and simply watched Carlos pace back and forth. "Look, this whole thing may be because of the withdrawal. Maybe you just need to-"
"It's not. I've been through this enough times to know it's not. Carlos, you have to believe me."
"I can't. I want to, but I can't."
"I need your help. Please." His hands settled on the man's waist, and he could feel his nails biting into the skin there. "I can't do this anymore."
Carlos looked into his eyes, and whatever he saw there had him sighing. He removed TK's hands and put some distance between them, before he nodded. "Okay. Okay, I'll help."
.
The problem was, TK didn't know where to start. When he told Carlos, the other man hesitated before he spoke. "How about I dig up everything I can about your life?" He suggested. "If this isn't real, if this is just a dream, then there can't be that many details, right?"
TK nodded hesitantly, unsure but willing to try anything at this point. "Can you do that now?"
"Yeah. I'll go right now." He hesitated befor he left. "Make yourself at home, okay?"
.
TK couldn't resist taking a look around Carlos' home. There were some changes, but the apartment was more or less the same.
He turned on the TV and messed with his phone, and only then realized that Alex hadn't even attempted to contact him. He wasn't mad, or even sad about it. Maybe this was their normal.
.
It took Carlos about two hours to come back, and the look on his face was a cross between apologetic and cautious.
TK closed his eyes.
"Hey."
"Hi," he whispered. "It's all there?"
"Yeah." He sat beside him. "Alex came here a month after you did. You were having a rough time, started drinking again, which in the end ended up getting you fired. Alex asked you to take him back two days after that, and you agreed. Then he asked you to marry him, you said yes and moved to New York. You two got married a year ago." He held up the papers in his hand. "I have your marriage certificate here, the lease to the house with your name on it, all the jobs you had, your- your arrests."
TK choked on air. "Arrests?"
"You were arrested twice for drunk and disorderly. Once was two days ago, and- TK, you got hit on the head during the fight."
Carlos took a cautious step towards him, and TK took one back. "No," he shook his head in denial. "No, this isn-"
"I'm sorry."
"You think I made it up," he said accusingly.
"I think that you're unhappy. And that you made up this- this whole new life for yourself where you were."
TK didn't stop the tears now, wouldn't be able to even if he tried. "Look at me," he demanded of him, and could tell Carlos was shocked by the change of demeanor. "Look at me, don't you feel something for me?"
"I want to help you-"
TK scooted closer to him on the couch and held his face between his hands. He pressed a desperate, close-mouthed kiss on his lips, and though Carlos let him do it, he didn't reciprocate. So he tried again, and it didn't change. "TK, I can't." Carlos held his wrists delicately and pushed him away gently. "I'm with someone."
Those three words, more than anything that happened in the past couple of days, made his world crumble around him.
TK stared up at the night sky, blinking owlishly up at it.
The stars were beautiful tonight.
They were beautiful, and this would be his last chance to see them, so he savored it. The grass beneath him was damp, but TK didn't feel any discomfort, or cold.
He didn't feel anything at all.
Everything felt foggy, and though there was an initial panic over what was about to happen, it was only momentary and passed within seconds. He knew this was for the best.
If Carlos was right, and this was his life, then he didn't want it. He didn't want any of it.
His father had moved on without him once, he'd be able to do it again. Alex would probably be happy to be rid of him. His crew wouldn't care either way and Carlos- well, Carlos had already moved on, and he barely knew TK. This may affect him a little but, he may even blame himself, but TK knew that he would eventually get over it, so this wouldn't hurt him much in the long run.
TK's hand tightened around the empty pill bottle in his hand, and then he let it go.
He was becoming lightheaded; his breaths were slowing, and breathing was becoming harder and harder with each second.
TK smiled.
It wouldn't be long now.
He closed his eyes, tipped his head back to the sky, and thought of Carlos- he wanted him to be the last thing he saw.
The last time they'd been here together had been on the night of the solar storm. If he tried hard enough, TK could remember the warmth of the other man's hand in his, the happiness that had burst into his chest whenever Carlos smiled at him, and the nervous excitement that he'd felt at starting something him.
Made up or not, that had been one of the best nights of his life, and he was going to hold onto it until his last breath.
He opened his eyes yet again. He stared at the stars.
It wouldn't be long now.