Work Text:
When TK woke it was to a blinding light.
He squeezed his eyes shut against the brightness of the room and breathed in deeply, expecting to hear the sounds of the hospital surrounding him as his senses came back to him one by one. But as they did, he found he could hear no beeping, smelled no disinfectant. His mouth didn’t feel dry and scratchy from the high flow of oxygen that he’d become accustomed to from his last major visit to the hospital.
He blinked slowly, allowing his eyes to adjust to the light. As his vision began to clear, he felt the soft fabric of the bedding that he had long since forgotten beneath his fingertips. He frowned at this because the last thing he remembered was being frozen stiff from his stint in the frozen pond.
That was the last thing that he remembered.
Confused by his lack of memory, TK propped himself up on his elbow and squinted against the glare as he looked at his surroundings properly. He was in his bedroom, that he knew. It was sparse and undecorated except for his sheets which he hadn’t seen since he had lived in New York.
The space felt foreign but comforting and he couldn’t help but wonder what was going on. The bedroom door was cracked open slightly and he could hear quiet sounds coming, he assumed, from the kitchen. TK slid out for under his sheets and swung to sit on the edge of his bed, pressing his toes into the soft carpet as he stood up feeling drawn to the sounds.
TK shuffled to the kitchen, rubbing an eye before stopping short when he saw a figure in the kitchen with their back to him, “Mom?”
His mom had her back to him, preoccupied with what she was searching for in the kitchen cupboard. She turned to face him upon hearing his voice, an easy smile on her lips, “Hi TK sweetie. Did you have a good sleep?”
Something about the space and her felt wrong but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Her being there felt strange, out of place in a way that didn’t make any sense to him.
“Hey honey,” she continued cheerfully ignoring his lack of answer, “have you seen my slow tea infuser, I can’t find it anywhere,” she asked as she gestured around her in bewilderment.
“The otter one?” he asked, surprised by the change in conversation and still feeling out of sorts with no reason why.
“It’s a sloth,” she corrected as she moved to a different cupboard to continue her search.
“Buttercup ate it,” he replied feeling removed from the conversation as he walked over to the dining table. He wasn’t sure why; there was nothing there for him to look at and he didn’t feel like sitting down.
“He did? That rascal,” she answered seemingly unconcerned as she pulled out a mug from the cupboard, despite the fact that he knew that she loved that infuser more than the tea that she drank.
Something still didn’t feel right. He felt like he was disconnected. Detached from the conversation and space around him but he still couldn’t understand why. In his mind, there was a tiny voice screaming at him that something was amiss, but it was being muffled, drowned out by the presence of his mom.
“Hey uh, where’s dad?” he asked knowing that it would make sense for him to be here. He wandered past her, following an impulse to move to the lounge, feeling drawn to the outside expecting to see snow.
He didn’t see his mom shake her head, keeping her head down as she said dismissively, “no idea, work probably.”
“No he- oh! the storm must have passed” he cut himself off as he peered out the sliding doors past the living room before turning back to his mom.
The storm seemed important and worth talking about, but Gwyn seemed to ignore him as if avoiding the topic as she poured boiling water into a mug from the kettle that had been warming on the stove.
A faint beeping distracted him then, echoing in the distance, “do you hear that?”
Gwyn turned to him then, seemingly unperturbed with the mug in hand, “hear what?”
“Nothing I guess,” he answered unconvinced as the beeping quietly continued. It felt important he just didn’t know why.
“Sit down. Have some tea” Gwyn changed the subject abruptly and TK moved involuntarily as if being pulled by invisible forces to take a seat at the island bench
Gwyn placed the mug in front of him as he took his seat and he instinctively wrapped his hands around it.
In his head, he wanted to know more about what was going on. Ask about the storm and the beeping and why his dad wasn’t there but instead the words that escaped him were, “So, when did you get in?”
“Just now!” Gwyn leaned on the bench as he took a sip of the tea, “I flew in as soon as I heard about your latest little stint in the hospital. You know you’re in there so often you ought to enroll in some kind of rewards program.”
TK puts the mug down, his forehead creasing in confusion, not understanding, “I was in the hospital?”
“You don’t remember?”
TK shook his head, “not really.” And then without a second beat, he changed the subject with a smile, “Hey! Did you bring the baby?”
Logically he knew something was wrong. It felt like he wasn’t in control of his mouth. His thoughts did not translate into the words that he was saying. He wanted to know more about the hospital. Why was he there? When did it happen? How long has it been if the storm has passed?
“Not this time,” she said lowly, “Jonah’s back in New York with Enzo.”
“That’s too bad. What’s he getting into lately-? Jonah, not Enzo.”
Gwyn smiled thoughtfully at the question, “strange pears and he’s recently discovered his reflection, so that’s all the rage right now.”
“Well, at least he’s adorable so he’s got that going for him.”
Gwyn walked around the bench and placed a hand across his back, “That’s because he takes after his big brother.”
And maybe it was just being home spending time with his mom again, just the two of them that he asked her if they could make cookies, just like they used to when he was a kid. He hoped that it might help shake off the weirdness that had been tingling under his skin since he woke up.
But even that was short-lived because no sooner had he brought up their nostalgic past did the beeping return even louder this time, blaring loudly in his ears, “What is that?!”
He groaned as he pressed at his temples with his fingertips in the desperate attempt to make it go away but all it did was make his temples throb to the beat of the beeps. He looked around desperately trying to find the source to no avail.
“Honey-“
He turned back to his mom imploringly, “you hear that right?”
“Sweetheart-” she continued still trying to get his attention as he squeezed his head feeling as though his head might explode, “-but right now you need to fight.”
That didn’t make sense.
He felt like he was going crazy.
“Fight who?”
Why was he supposed to be fighting?
He groaned trying to drown out the increasing volume of the beeping. The cacophony reached a ringing pitch. The sound was all-consuming, it surrounded him as if it were physically right next to his ears.
As the sound became so loud it was deafening, everything else seemed to slow down. He hadn’t been aware of it because he was so focused on the beeping but now he could feel his heartbeat in his chest, thumping slowly and getting slower. Each breath was harder to take the one before it like he was having an asthma attack but only just started noticing it now.
The light filtering through the windows began to get brighter almost blindingly so and The front door began to glow invitingly. So much so that despite his laboring body, he was drawn to it, hypnotised by its energy.
“TK don’t! Fight it!” His mom’s voice could be heard over the beeping still blaring in his ears. She was following closely behind him and reached for his shoulder in an attempt to stop him.
As his hand reached for the door handle the persistent beeps all at once became one continuous high-pitched whine. A second later it felt like he had been struck by lightning.
TK recoiled from the door and fell to the floor. His skin crackled as he curled up on his side, gasping and unable to breathe. His muscles twitched involuntarily until the electric energy left him as quickly as it had come. His mom hovered over him, hands not quite touching him as his body trembled. Just out of sight he could see images of another place, of shadowy figures hovering in his peripheries.
He had barely gotten his breath back when it happened for a second time. His body felt like it was electrified as his lungs seized again from the pulse and his vision whited out from the pain that was coursing through him.
“What’s happening?” he managed to whimper after a third and more intense wave of electricity jolted through him quickly after the second. He felt his mom’s hand stroking through his hair and the other on his face brushing against his cheek. Her touch was a soothing balm to the fire beneath his skin. Her eyes were shining with tears as his vision began to fade, the pain dragging him to unconsciousness,
“You’re dying, sweetheart,” was the last thing he heard before he passed out.
TK woke with a gasp, pressing a hand to his chest still feeling the ghost of electricity coursing through him and it took him a moment to get his bearings.
As he looked at his surroundings he realised he was back in his bed, exactly how he woke the last time. The last words his mom had said were still echoing in his head and for the first time since he had woken the first time, his mind felt clear. No longer muddled by the fog that had been clouding his mind, that he didn’t even realise was there.
He felt like a computer that had just been updated and rebooted, alive with newfound energy and purpose. He flung back the sheets and quickly got out of bed his memory of what just happened intact. He rushed through his bedroom door towards the kitchen calling loudly, “Mom?”
She was exactly where she was the last time he walked in, peering into a cupboard looking for her tea infuser. She turned away from it just like last time upon hearing his voice, “Hi TK sweetie. Did you have a good sleep?”
“I’m dying!?”
Her face fell, the smile that he could now see was fake slipped from her face. The illusion that had been cast over them was now gone and in its wake was a startling new reality.
His mom gestured for him to follow her to the living room, and he did, eyes wide open. It wasn’t until now that he could see the space for what it really was. An empty shell. The shelves were empty, and the countertops were bare of all the things that made it feel like home.
She sat down on the ottoman with a sigh. She turned to look over her shoulder and patted the space next to her, he took the seat hesitantly not entirely sure what was going to happen next.
She took his hand and pulled it to her lap, pressing it between her hands as she cleared her throat, “Yes, sweetheart. You’re dying.”
TK shook his head. It didn’t feel right. Nothing about this felt right. How was he even here if he was dying? None of it made any sense. If he was dying he should be in the hospital. His dad should be here too. And more than anything he want to see Carlos, there was so much there with him that was left unfinished.
He tried to pull his hand for his mom’s grasp, but she held on tight, “TK-” He pulled against her harder, needing to put space between them so he could think.
“This can’t be happening,” he mumbled more to himself than anything as he stopped fighting against her grip.
“TK, I need you to listen to me. You need to understand.”
Something about her tone cut through his swelling anxiety and he looked at her sharply, finding her wearing her serious mom face, “What’s happening?” he asked, his voice sounding much smaller to his own ears than he thought was possible.
“Do you remember being in the ice storm, and rescuing a young boy in a frozen pond?”
He had to close his eyes, trying to picture what she was describing, and eventually, the memory came flooding back to him. He nodded, “I fell in the water to save him.”
“You did. After that, you became severely hypothermic. Nancy and Tommy found you and… well, to put it simply you were so cold your heart stopped,” she squeezed his hand speaking quickly, “but they managed to defibrillate and bring you back and got you to the hospital.”
“But that doesn’t make sense. You told me to fight, said that I was dying. How am I here,“ he stressed the word as he gestured at the room around them, “if I’m dying?”
She sighed and shuffled closer, “Honey, this-” she swept her hand broadly to the room around them, “isn’t real, some people call it limbo but really, you’re in a coma.”
“I’m in a coma,” he parroted breathlessly, still barely able to wrap his head around it all, “so you’re not even you.”
She nodded her head sympathetically.
“And the house?”
“A construct of your subconscious,” she supplied gently.
“So I’m just stuck here forever,” he stated as he pressed his hands into the cushions, then thought back to what happened earlier and continued more quietly, “or until I die.”
“Not necessarily.” He looked up sharply at that, hope bubbling in his chest.
“Remember when I said you needed to fight?” He nodded keenly, “You can leave, but you need to want to leave. Need you fight your way back.”
TK threw his hands up at that and stood up, “why wouldn’t I want to leave?”
His mom smiled at him ruefully, “that’s not something I can answer, I’m afraid.”
TK paced around the room for what felt like hours, or it could have been days for all he knew. Time seemed to move differently in limbo.
His mom moved in and out of the living room, appearing and disappearing in the house at will. Sometimes she would offer him a tea or some cookies that they had made together back when he was ten years old that tasted purely nostalgic.
Eventually, he collapsed on the couch with a defeated huff and dropped his head into his hands tugging his hair firmly. Not a moment later the cushion dipped beside him his mom was there wrapping an arm around his shoulder and pulling him into her side. She didn’t even have to prompt him before he involuntarily opened the floodgates.
“Everything has been so hard. The 126 hasn’t been reopened after five months, dad has given up, the team is barely a team anymore now that we’re not working together. I’ve been a mess. And Carlos- well I messed things up with him months ago and he had every right to leave. What’s the point in fighting to go back to that?”
“Oh, honey.” She pressed him closer into her side and dropped her cheek onto the top of his head, “you have to remember that these things are temporary. Weren’t you the one that said: ‘nothing ever stays the same’”
“I did,” bemoaned TK, “but maybe I was wrong.”
“I highly doubt that” she pulled away from him abruptly, and turned his head to look at her with a gentle fingertip, a thoughtful expression on her face, “you said you heard beeping, right?”
He nodded, curious as to where she was going with her line of thought.
“Well, what do you think that beeping was?”
He frowned but thought back to the rhythmic beeps and the high pitch whine that followed. “Hospital monitors?”
“Mmhmm. And if you could hear that from here, what else do you think you can hear? Why don’t you close your eyes and try?”
He chewed on the inside of his lower lip contemplatively, and at his mother’s insistence, closed his eyes trying to tap into his physical body. It was easier than he thought, especially with the house so quiet around him. The sounds of beeping filtered into his ears and then more sounds started coming through, voices.
The longer he focused and listened, the more he was able to distinguish who the voices were, and it was enough to bring tears to his eyes. It was everyone; Judd, Marjan, Paul, Mateo, Nancy, and Tommy. Each and every one of them appeared somewhere in his vicinity, talking to themselves, to him and sometimes to each other if they had come into his room together. He couldn’t actually hear what it was they were saying but he could tell who they were as if they were his own blood.
At one point he was sure that he had heard his dad, but he wasn’t around for long. There was one voice, however, that stood out from the rest. One that he wouldn’t have expected to hear. Carlos. Never had his heart ached more than to be able to hear his voice.
“TK,” his mom’s whispered voice brought him back to his reality.
He opened his eyes to find her pointing towards the front door. This time it was pulsating in a warmer, softer glow. So much different to the harsh while light that it had been the first time.
He gipped her other hand, “I heard them, mom! I head them all there in the hospital.”
She smiled widely and pulled him up with her from the couch “I think you’re ready now.”
“Ready?”
Gwyn nodded and looked back at the door before turning to him, “You had to fight- had to believe that you could go back.”
He looked between her and the door, “How do I know that it won’t be like last time.”
She shook her head and planted a hand on each of his shoulders, “Listen to their voices, let them be your guide and you will find your way back, I promise.”
He chewed on his lower lip nervously, looking once against between her and the door before closing his eyes once again. He picked one voice, the clearest of them all, the one that he never wanted to let go of, and began to walk. With his eyes closed, he instinctively reached for the door handle and found it.
With one last deep breath, he turned it and opened the door, allowing the warmth to envelop him as he continued walking, disappearing into the light.
TK woke. this time it wasn’t to blinding light, but to the sight of warm brown eyes of the love of his life hovering over him, a gentle hand held in his and somehow he knew that he would be alright.