Work Text:
It all comes to a head at a scene, because of course it does.
They've been successfully avoiding one another for months, only ever seeing each other when they get called to the same scene, but even then, they've worked around each other, only speaking directly when strictly necessary, which is almost never. Tommy is always more than happy to act as an intermediary with the police when the situation calls for it, which means TK hasn't said a single word to Carlos in weeks.
And he fucking hates it.
But it's his own fault. He knows he brought it on himself, knows he doesn't have a say in anything to do with Carlos now.
So he soldiers on.
Until, one day, he can't anymore.
The scene is absolute pandemonium. A fight that broke out between two members in a crowded gym turned into an all out brawl when dozens of patrons jumped in to try to stop it. From what the terrified desk clerk said as she called 9-1-1 from beneath the check-in desk, one of the members swung a barbell at another member's head, but hit one of the bystanders instead, and mayhem erupted.
Problem is, the scene hasn't calmed down. The gym is one of those massive chain establishments, with floor to ceiling windows around two sides of the building, and as the ambulance glides to a stop, TK is shocked by the chaos inside. Blood spatters the windows, wet and dripping down the glass as big men with bigger muscles beat the ever-loving hell out of one another inside.
There are at least three men unconscious on the floor, and another that looks to be trapped between the weight plates in the lat pulldown machine. Before he's even gotten out of the ambulance, TK can see how laboured that man's breathing is with hundreds of pounds compressing his sternum.
There are enough injuries that TK can already tell they'll be scrambling once they get inside, but he's not entirely sure they can even get in to treat the injuries just yet. There are still eight or nine men who appear to be hellbent on remaining the last one standing, using the free weights and bench press bars as weapons to bludgeon one another.
TK hurries around to the back of the ambulance, arriving just as Tommy climbs out of the back, bumping into Nancy as she freezes in place, eyes trained on the situation inside.
"Uh. Cap?" Nancy asks, pausing as she shoulders their equipment bag. "Are we...going in there?"
They need to, and they all know it, but protocol dictates they don't move in until it's safe to do so. The police need to contain the situation before they can wade in, but unfortunately, since their bus happened to be only a few blocks away when the 9-1-1 call came in, APD hasn't arrived on scene yet.
Tommy pauses, grimacing as a man in sweatpants and a bloody t-shirt is tossed against the window so hard he drops to the ground unconscious, and TK is honestly shocked he didn't break through the glass altogether. It's just as Tommy opens her mouth to answer one way or another that a police cruiser pulls into the lot, stopping right next to their rig.
TK's chest constricts as Carlos steps out, confident and poised and as beautiful as always. Years of experience has Carlos casting a trained eye over the scene as he moves, taking it all in before the door to his cruiser even slams shut behind him, and TK can't help but track each and every movement, memories assaulting him as he watches, reminding him what it felt like to hold Carlos in his arms before he so carelessly lost that privilege.
A low whistle pulls TK from his unwelcome reminiscing as Carlos clocks the carnage in the gym. It seems that, despite the sheer volume of insane stories Carlos had shared with TK when they were together, he can still be taken by surprise by a call.
"Backup is still six minutes out," Carlos says, eyebrows tugged down and expression solemn as he turns to face Tommy. His gaze passes over TK like he isn't even there, and the ache that blooms in TK's chest is so raw and so suffocating that he needs to take a step back, a step away from the man he thought he'd be spending the rest of his life with. He stumbles to the back of the ambulance with an uttered excuse of grabbing a few more supplies as Carlos continues talking to Tommy, ignoring TK entirely. "I don't think we can wait that long without risking fatalities, though. I'm gonna go in. See if I can de-escalate, maybe get a few of them out while we wait."
"No," TK practically shouts, dropping the supplies on the floor before rounding the back of the ambulance, moving before he realizes he's even taken a step. "Jesus, Carlos, you can't go in there alone. It's a blood bath."
Carlos blinks at him in surprise, and TK thinks it might just be the first time Carlos has looked at him — really looked at him — since they broke up. It steals his breath away but he still somehow manages to force the words out.
"You need to wait for backup."
Tommy and Nancy both stare at him, wide-eyed disbelief painted over both of their faces. And TK gets it. He does. Because he's been avoiding speaking to Carlos for months now, refusing to even talk about what happened between them, and now here he is, practically begging him not to go into a scene they were both called to.
"What?" Carlos asks, sounding more surprised than angry. For now.
"Just. Wait for back-up," TK whispers, that initial burst of confidence and bravado falling away in cracked and jagged pieces. "Please."
And Carlos may have let his walls down for a fraction of a second, but TK can practically see him building them back up now. That little glimpse of warmth that seemed to shine through Carlos' eyes — a relic of how things used to be — is extinguished between one heartbeat and the next. Those beautiful brown eyes have never seemed as cold as when Carlos speaks, his voice so low it feels caught between a growl and a hiss.
"We're not together anymore, TK. You don't get a say in what I do, especially at work."
And with that, Carlos turns away, striding towards the entrance of the gym. He's reaching out for the door, one hand on his holster, before TK finds his words again.
"I know you're my ex!" TK shouts, startling himself with just how loud, how vehement, the words are as they fly from his lips, "But I think I still have feelings for you. And I can't just stand by and watch you walk in there alone."
Carlos pauses, his shoulders pulling taut beneath his uniform. There's a couple dozen feet separating them — feet that might as well be lightyears, for the emotional distance between them — but TK can still make out just how hard Carlos is gripping the door handle, knuckles bleached white from his bruising hold.
When Carlos finally responds, there's so much hurt sawing away at his voice that it nearly knocks TK off his feet. "I guess you should have thought about that before you ended things."
And with that, Carlos is walking through the door.
Walking away from TK.
It doesn't matter that Carlos manages to get everyone to lay down their improvised weapons without any further violence. It doesn't matter that the extreme aggression is found to be caused by a water cooler spiked with anabolic steroids. It doesn't matter that multiple city and private ambulances are called in to sort out the aftermath of the brawl.
For TK, it's starting to feel like nothing matters anymore.
He's running on autopilot as he follows Nancy and Tommy inside, treating everyone he can as they triage the injuries and stabilize their patients. His work is never anything less than 100% but there's a change, a shift, inside of him as they work. Something he can't pinpoint right away.
By some minor miracle, there's only one patient in critical condition — the man trapped between the weight plates in the exercise machine. It doesn't take long to free him, to get him loaded up on a gurney, and within minutes, they're heading back to the rig, leaving the less serious patients to the ambulances that are just arriving on scene.
It's as TK throws the bus in drive that the shift inside of him becomes more pronounced. He catches sight of Carlos stowing one of the more aggressive brawlers into the back of his cruiser, and once again, Carlos' gaze sweeps over TK like he's just another stranger.
In a way, he is.
And as TK weaves through traffic, he can't help but wonder if anything will ever matter again. Or if this numbness that's settling inside of him, spreading like a cancer through his entire body, is there to stay.
He's not sure he cares either way.