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It took a few days for Carlos to get his bearings after the kidnapping. It's perfectly normal, his doctor told him. After the concussion and the drugs, tiredness, confusion, and concentration issues were only to be expected. It's the only excuse Carlos could give himself for taking so long to notice that something was off with TK.
Ever since Carlos had woken up in his hospital bed, TK had been like a man on a mission. He argued with the nurses about extra pillows and what food they were giving Carlos, and puppy-eyed his way into getting a cot set up next to Carlos' bed so he could spend the night. He sat by Carlos' side and read about the drugs he had been injected with so he could recognize any withdrawal symptoms. He organized visitations from their friends. He called the wedding venue and cancelled their booking; even got the deposit back by pulling the "hero cop got injured catching a serial killer" card.
He was doing so much it took a couple of days for Carlos to realize what he was not doing. He wasn't touching him. And it was freaking him out.
They were both tactile people. They rarely slept without spooning. They never watched movies sitting apart. TK would take Carlos' hand or arm as soon as he was within reach, probably without even thinking about it. Carlos's hand found its way to TK's thigh like they were magnetically linked. It was just in their nature to always be touching. So Carlos really should have noticed sooner that - aside from that frantic, relieved moment when he first woke up, when TK tearfully caressed his face and hugged him close - he hadn't felt TK's touch at all. No sweet pecks on the lips when he walked into the room, no fingers gently caressing the back of his hand as they sat next to each other, no hand holding his as they slept side by side at night. He hadn't gone a day without kissing TK since they got back together a year ago. Something was wrong.
Carlos sat in his bed, watching TK slowly flip through a magazine, and suddenly blurted out,
"You're pissed at me, aren't you?" It was the only explanation he could think of. For TK to be keeping his distance like this, he must be living on a hair trigger.
It took TK a second to react, his eyes frozen on a particular spot on the page. Then he said,
"Let's not talk about it right now."
"Why not?" Carlos demanded, frustration bubbling up inside him. He felt tired and helpless and out of control. It was making him irritable. "Not like we have much else to do in here."
"You have plenty to do, like healing and getting out of here," TK said, still calmly flipping the pages.
"Would you at least look at me?"
TK set the magazine aside and turned to face Carlos. A moment of silence passed when they were just staring at each other. Finally, Carlos averted his eyes.
"So you are pissed," he muttered. TK snorted.
"Yes, Carlos, I'm pissed at you. But I don't want to get into while you should be concentrating on getting well. We can talk about it when you're home."
"Oh, so we're still going home together at least," Carlos said. Because he just can't help himself when he's feeling defensive. TK just gave him a look that so perfectly said don't be an idiot that Carlos was immediately cowed.
"I just... I don't understand."
"Of course you don't," TK sighed. "I'm going to the cafeteria. You want anything?"
Carlos shook his head and had to watch TK leave, feeling even more frustrated than when he started. If there was one thing Carlos hated, it was feeling powerless. Something was wrong with TK, and he had to fix it. It was just difficult to do so since TK had the use of his legs and there were machines attached to Carlos that would start beeping if he tried to follow him.
TK left him to his thoughts for almost an hour before he came back, a mostly empty bottle of Gatorade hanging limply from his hand. He sat down in his seat and handed Carlos a cinnamon bun wrapped in a paper napkin.
"I got you this anyway, if you're up for it."
Carlos took it and then said,
"Are you angry that I took a stupid risk and got hurt, because if you are then that seems very hypocri-"
"No!" TK snapped. "No, Carlos, that's not..." He trailed off, sighing. "Fine." He sat back, rubbed his face with his hand, and when he looked up, his face had crumpled and his eyes were shiny with unshead tears. "I'm angry because you lied to me. How do you not see that? Jesus, sometimes you're so much like my dad it drives me crazy."
"Hey-" Carlos started, but TK just kept going like he hadn't heard him.
"You just... You always think you have to fix everything yourself and you don't tell me unless you have no choice. It makes me feel like you don't trust me."
"What- of course I trust you," Carlos tried to grab TK's hand, but he kept it out of reach.
"Do you? Because you don't tell me things, Carlos. You didn't tell me about Iris until the venue forced your hand. You lied straight to my face about where you were and what you were doing when you went missing. Do you have any idea how that felt? To find out you were gone when I went to the hospital, and realizing that I had absolutely no idea how to find you because you lied to me. Your dad kept asking me if you had given any indication where you might have gone and I had to tell him no, I don't know."
A few tears slid down TK's cheeks, and he angrily wiped them off. "We're getting married, Carlos. That's supposed to mean that we face things together, whatever it is. Even if you're angry with me. Even if you don't think I can help. Even if you think I'll react badly. It hurts so bad that you think you have to fix everything by yourself. So yeah. I'm pissed at you."
Carlos had no idea what to say. He sat there for a few moments, staring at TK's awful, heartbroken expression, and then looked down at his hands.
"You're right. You're right, I'm sorry. I don't know why I do these things."
TK sniffed and leaned forward, and then finally - finally - took Carlos' hand.
"You do them because you've felt alone for most of your life and it has made you think that you need to solve your problems on your own."
His voice was kind and sad and his words hit Carlos like a punch in the gut.
"But you're not alone, Carlos. I'm here and I love you and I want us to be a team. I've been trying to be a team with you and sometimes you don't let me."
"I don't mean to," Carlos said quietly. "I don't think about it that way. I don't do it to hurt you."
"Well, it does hurt me."
Carlos was pretty sure TK could have taken out a knife and stabbed it into his thigh and it would've been less painful than hearing him say that.
"How do I fix this?" He asked desperately, then winced. "I mean..." He trailed off because he had no idea how to finish that sentence. TK smiled wryly at him.
"Start by changing that I to a we, maybe?" He suggested lightly. Carlos huffed a bitter laugh.
"Yeah, that's... Yeah."
"I think maybe you should consider therapy," TK said. Carlos' gut reaction was to protest, even if he would never say so out loud. He was fully supportive of TK's therapy, but it was harder to accept for himself. He grew up with Gabriel Reyes after all; a man that fully embodied the old school, tough guy attitude to mental health. A man keeps his own counsel, a man fixes his own problems. A man doesn't talk to anyone about his feelings, except possibly his wife. Well, Carlos thought, he'd already deviated pretty heavily from that last point.
"Yeah," he finally said. "Maybe I should." TK squeezed his hand and Carlos was so relieved that they were back to touching that he could cry.
"I love you," he said. He didn't know what else to say, so he went back to the most simple, most basic truth in the universe. The sky was blue, water was wet, Carlos loved TK Strand more than anything.
"I know, I love you, too." TK smiled at him. His eyes were still wet, but he was smiling and touching Carlos again. That made everything a little bit better. "We're gonna be okay."
"I want to let you in," Carlos said earnestly. "I will consider therapy, and maybe... you'll go with me?"
The smile TK gave him then made Carlos feel like he could take a victory lap around the hospital. Then TK stood up and laid down next to Carlos on the bed, curling closely up against his side with his head on his chest so he would fit. Carlos suddenly felt much better and kind of wanted to call the doctor in to tell her that he was ready to go home now.
"In the future, even if you're pissed at me, please don't stop doing this." Carlos gestured vaguely at all the points on their bodies where they were touching. "Freaked me out."
TK huffed a laugh. "I didn't even really notice I was doing that. I was just concentrating so hard on not showing you I was angry that I kind of stopped showing you any emotion at all. I figured, with everything you've gone through, my issues could wait for a bit. Guess I forgot that I can't really hide anything from you."
"I don't want to hide anything from you, either," Carlos said quietly. "Not anymore."
"I know." TK burrowed his head further into Carlos' chest and closed his eyes. Carlos relaxed, sinking into the multiple pillows TK had procured for him, and smiled to himself.
"We're gonna fix it, together."