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“Please TK.” Carlos begs, voice down to a whisper. “Please come back. Be okay. Wake up.” His pleas get more desperate. TK’s been in the hospital for just under two weeks and he’s still not improving. “Come back to tell me you hate me. Tell me to leave. To get the hell away from you, anything.” He lets a tear roll down his cheek. “Just please wake up.” Carlos closes his eyes, more tears dripping from his lashes.
His eyes snap open a few minutes later when the room is suddenly filled with loud, frantic beeping. Hope builds and bubbles in his chest as the screens and monitors light up.
“Nurse! Nurse!” He calls out. A team of two nurses and a doctor rush into the room, moving frantically. Carlos is being ushered out when he realizes the beeping isn’t TK’s heart rate spiking. It’s dropping. Fast. “No.” He mutters, trying to push past the nurse. “No!” A large arm wraps around Carlos’ chest and pulls him backward. The glass door shuts in his face, muffling the long, sustained beep. “No!” He fights the arms again and again to no avail. Eventually, his legs give out and Carlos goes limp in the hold. He’s slowly lowered to the ground as sobs wrack his body. “No, no, no, no, no.” He keeps murmuring the phrase. His eyes squeeze shut and his head drops to his hands. The arms around him don’t let up. Judd holds him close from behind and he can feel the small shakes of the man’s body as he too cries for his friend.
Andrea leads her son through her house, taking him to his old room. He thanks her quietly and shuts himself in the familiar room. Carlos sits on his bed, head in his hands, and cries, staying quiet so as to not worry his mother.
He eventually lays down, curling up on top of his comforter. Tears seep into the pillowcase as he drifts off into a restless sleep. Dreams and memories of TK flash through his mind, waking him up at odd hours of the night. When he does wake, and the images are still burned into his eyelids, Carlos finds himself muffling his sobs with either his hand or his pillow.
It was one thing to not have TK but see him on the occasional call. At least then he knew the man was alive and well. Now, he didn’t have that luxury.
It takes two whole weeks before Carlos’ mother decides he’s okay to be alone. He appreciates how much she cares, appreciates the help. But, he needs to be alone. He needs to be home so he can cry or mourn all day without feeling judged.
He says his goodbyes quickly and drives to his new loft. The one with TK listed on the deed. He’d need to change that soon. The drive is silent for the most part, save for the ringing that’s been in Carlos’ head since he was last at the hospital. Well, not so much ringing as the constant blare of the heart monitor flatlining.
He unlocks the door, simply going through the motions of toeing off his shoes, dropping his keys on the table by the door, and hanging his jacket on the coat rack. Carlos glances up, flicking the light on in the living room. The picture of the pair on the shelf sends a pang to his heart and tears to his eyes. It’s not until he spots the throw blanket over the back of the chair that he remembers. He’d moved TK in while he was at the hospital. A sob rips through his body. Carlos drops to his knees. This time, he’s not braced by Judd holding him up. The collision against the concrete floors sends pain through his kneecaps but he can’t feel it. He can’t feel anything. Not the hot tears pouring down his cheeks. Not the fingers running through his curls, tugging at the strands. Not his body clenching and convulsing on each sob. Nothing but his heart shattering over and over again as the same realizations cycle through his mind.
He never made up with TK.
He never said he was sorry.
He never told TK he still loved him.
He’d never get to see TK’s face light up at the sight of their home.
He’d never get to kiss him again.
He’d never get to run his fingers through the soft hair or hold his hand.
TK would never get to wake up in his arms.
TK would never know that Carlos still regrets his decision.
TK would never know how many times Carlos’ thumb had hovered over his number, mere millimeters away from dialing.
They’d never see each other on a call.
TK would never come home to Carlos.
TK would never come home.
Carlos sits up, gasping for air. His breaths come in and out roughly, barely getting enough to keep his vision clear. Cold sweat covers his body, dripping down his temple and spine, making him shiver.
“Carlos?” The man jumps at the voice, head whipping to the side to see the owner. TK stares at him with wide, concerned eyes. His hand is pulled back like he was burned. Or like the thing he was touching shot up suddenly and startled him.
“TK?” TK nods slowly.
“Yeah baby, it’s me. I’m here. I’m right here. You’re okay, I’m okay, we’re both okay.” His voice is soft but Carlos can hear the slight panic as clear as day. A sob makes TK’s eyes widen more. “Can I…Can I touch you?” Carlos nods. He feels TK’s hand land on his forearm. His fingers are cold but his palm is warm. Carlos lets TK pull him forward, tugging him into a hug. He grips at TK’s back, burying his face in the man’s neck.
They stay like that for a few minutes. Carlos cries into TK’s skin as the man runs his hands up and down his boyfriend’s back. Once his crying is reduced to sniffles and a tear here or there, TK pulls him back. He keeps Carlos close, parting them just enough to look at his face.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Carlos sniffs again and wipes at his eyes.
“Y-you didn’t-” He inhales sharply. “You died.” The words are whispered and send a sharp pain through both his heart and stomach. TK’s face crumbles as he pulls Carlos in again, this time tighter. He holds Carlos close as another round of sobs and tears echo through their loft.
“I’m here baby. I’m alive.” TK maneuvers them, laying back down. He moves Carlos’ head so it rests just over his heart. “Do you hear that? Can you hear my heart?” Carlos nods. TK takes one of his hands and places it on his chest, covering it with his own. Their hands rise and fall with each of his breaths. “Can you feel me breathing?” Carlos nods again. “I’m okay, baby. I’m okay and I’m here and I’m alive. We’re both alive. We’re both okay.” TK whispers the affirmations to the dark room, feeling tears dripping onto his chest. He runs his other hand through Carlos’ hair, fingers threading through the strands.
With TK’s heartbeat pounding in his ears, his own matching the rhythm, Carlos amends the repetitive thoughts from his dream.
He made up with TK.
They said they were sorry.
He told TK he still loved him.
He got to see TK’s face light up at the sight of their home.
He got to kiss him again.
He ran his fingers through the soft hair and held his hand.
They get to wake up in each other's arms.
TK knows that Carlos will never regret his decision.
TK knows how many times Carlos’ thumb had hovered over his number, mere millimeters away from dialing, admitting he’d done the same.
They’ll see each other on a call once TK’s cleared to return.
TK will always come home to Carlos.
TK is home.