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One of the few unspoken rules of the 126 was to not comment on the scars on TK’s chest.
There were the usual scars from his years growing up, of course. A small mark from a fight by his naval, a few tiny slashes on his side from falling out of a tree in Central Park and landing directly on his bike, a burn from, well, a time best not remembered. Most were hidden under some well placed tattoos now.
But there was a small amount on his chest that weren’t hidden, not yet. The ones from his first year in Austin, when he was shot.
At first, his surgeon had passed onto his father that the scarring would be minimal at best. He’d been lucky, apparently. The damage, while internally bad, wasn’t intense on his skin by some margin of luck. He was well on his way to only having a small mark that would need to be covered when he messed up that plan.
The moment he ripped his stitches attempting to save the bus driver was the moment he kissed that nice and neat mark on his chest goodbye. The stitches ripped in such a way that left behind tearing, making it hard for new stitches to be used to line up the skin neatly. In the end, what was left was a patchwork of scars that looked almost like a spiderweb, hiding away one of his most life changing moments.
TK wasn’t ashamed of those scars. He’d grown to like them, even if he and Carlos were privately debating what type of tattoo he should get to cover them. He just didn’t like talking about it, especially with people who weren’t around at the time he was injured.
Which, of course, meant that someone was obviously going to bring it up at least once.
With Mateo no longer their probie, a new probie had joined their shift only a week prior. Wilson Nichols (“Call me Will”) had apparently set his sights on joining the 126 as soon as he could possibly voice his opinion of the matter. His grades and skillset made him a good addition to the team, if a bit cocky, but what probie wasn’t straight out of the academy.
The man was curious by nature, always asking questions and taking notes when not at a scene. If it wasn’t work related, it was personal, but he was always respectful to a fault. He seemed to know when he struck a nerve and when to back off if necessary.
Except with TK.
Will kept asking about TK’s tattoos and what they meant, which TK was fine with answering. Until those questions turned to questions about what they were covering up. TK (and anyone else in the room) would shut that down immediately. Will would stop… for a callout or so. Then he’d ask again. And again.
Finally, three weeks after Will became their probie, TK had enough of the questions.
“Why do you want to know so badly?” TK finally said, keeping his temper only because blowing up at work was not a good idea. He and Will were the only ones awake in the rec area. TK was on his laptop looking at venues for the wedding and making a very short guest list. Will was across the room with his own laptop, blank document open, the question of his tattoos and what they were covering yet again hanging in the air.
“I like knowing people’s stories,” Will said. “Scars tell stories, good and bad. So do tattoos. And I can tell that those tattoos are covering something. I’m just curious.” He shrugged.
TK stared at him for a moment, debating, before saying, “Childhood mishaps. That’s what the tattoos are covering. Scars from childhood mishaps.” He had a resigned tone, trying to basically tell Will to stop asking now, you have an answer, don’t go fishing for more.
He went fishing.
“What about that big spider web on your chest? What’s that hiding?” Will paused, glanced at his computer for a split second, and then continued. “Is that from when you saved that whole bus full of people when Austin had that solar flare?”
TK’s mouth dropped open. He’d never been recognized from that day, except by the bus driver he’d failed to save, and that was by coincidence. “How-?” The words died in his throat.
Will looked embarrassed. “I was on that bus. You helped me get off right at the beginning. You inspired me to be a first responder. But I never knew how you cut your chest when your shirt was still intact…” He trailed off, clearly asking for details.
TK shook his head. “I don’t like talking about it, Will. You remember that day as a good day, I don’t. And that injury? I aggravated a previous one. It’s not something I like remembering.”
There was a quiet lull. Will looked away, chastised and apologetic. “I’m sorry for bringing it up,” he said quietly. It was clear to TK that he meant every word. “I didn’t even think that you might think differently about that day.”
TK nodded. “Dude, it’s cool. Just understand that when one of us says that something is off limits, we usually have a reason for it. Unless it’s about my dad’s hair care regime. Just trust me and don’t ask him about it.”
The somber mood was instantly lifted as Will chuckled. TK turned back to his guest list and added another name before powering down the machine. “I’m heading to bed. You coming? Or are you staying up all night?”
The younger man nodded. “Yeah, sure. So…” he let the word stretch as he stood. “What’s not off limits to ask Mateo? He’s usually talkative?”
“Just about anything. Oh, ask him about his cousin! That’s always fun to hear about.”