Work Text:
On June 26, 2015, Carlos cries.
He's at work of all places, the radio on low as they drive, and he starts to cry in the passenger seat, silently, tears trickling down his cheeks.
"Jesus," his partner Ortiz blurts out, pulling them into a nearly-empty parking lot and parking haphazardly in the first spot in the row. "Are you—"
"Fuck," Carlos whispers, half-laughing. He straightens out in his seat, wiping at his cheeks. "Fuck, I'm sorry. I didn't—I'm good. Sorry." His heart is pounding in his chest so hard he can barely get words out, and he's not sure if he wants to laugh or cry or do both all at once, but he is sure that he doesn't want to be doing it at work, in front of a partner who is good, all things considered, but also a straight Catholic Texan cop.
But Ortiz just says, a little awkwardly, "You don't have to apologize, man. Are you okay?"
He's really, really not, because even though 2013 gave him hope, this is Texas, and being who he is hasn't even been legal his entire lifetime, and now—
Now—
"I'm good," Carlos says, and wipes his tears away, and makes himself stop crying. He has a job to do.
–
On June 26, 2015, Andrea cries.
She gives herself ten minutes to cry, standing alone in her kitchen with nobody watching, and then she calls Gabriel and says, "It won't be a church wedding, but at least there will be a wedding."
Gabriel is silent for a long moment, and she can picture him in his office, hat hung up, tapping his fingers on his desk. And then he asks, carefully, "Cariño, what are you talking about? Has someone gotten engaged?"
That man, she thinks, and says, "Look at the news."
"The news," he says skeptically, even as she can hear his slow typing. "What would the news—oh, Dios mio. Madre de Dios, finally. I thought they would never get their heads out of their asses."
"If Carlos calls—"
"I will remind him the ranch looks beautiful in the spring."
"Or fall," Andrea says, choking back tearful laughter.
"Or fall, yes," Gabriel agrees. "I have to go, cariño. I love you."
"And I you," Andrea says, and hangs up still smiling, still crying.
–
(Carlos doesn't call.)
–
On June 26, 2015, TK saves someone from a burning building.
They get fewer fires than people expect, being firefighters, but they get enough, and TK is used to the smell of smoke already, the way it clings to his clothes and his skin and his hair.
But it's a good day, and he's a little high with adrenaline, Jodi slapping him on the back as they pack up the truck, and then someone says, "Did you hear? The decision came out."
"Did Callahan finally make Lieutenant?" TK asks, pushing the compartment shut and pressing to make sure it actually latches.
Riley shakes his head. "Not that decision. The court finally released their decision."
"Oh shit, really?" The adrenaline rush threatens to turn into something worse, something bitter, and TK steels himself against it, against disappointment.
"Love wins, baby!" Riley crows, leaning over to plant a sloppy kiss on TK's cheek. The taste of acid fades from TK's throat, half-formed and already gone. "You and me, whenever you want to set a date."
TK laughs, shoving him away and wiping off his cheek. "You're not my type."
"I'm everyone's type," Riley brags, slinging an arm around TK's shoulder.
"Let's go!" Cap calls. He meets TK's eye. "The streets are about to get busy."
–
On June 26, 2015, Owen saves someone from a burning building.
This isn’t the first time he’s done this, or the second, but there’s still a rush that comes from carrying an unconscious man out on his shoulders, from breaching the doors and hitting sunlight and knowing that he has done something right.
It’s what he holds on to, most days—that feeling.
Captain Ellis from the 271 has incident command, which saves Owen untold paperwork and also means that they can head out before it’s all been tied in a bow.
Which is a relief, because if this is anything like 2011, the streets are an hour at best away from erupting in jubilant chaos, no matter that the pride march is only a couple days away.
And even though it’s doesn’t really matter, not when they live a state like New York and he doesn’t see TK heading off to somewhere like Texas anytime soon, Owen is glad—not just for everyone else, but, selfishly, for himself.
Because he knows TK wouldn’t spiral from a setback like that, wouldn’t go find the nearest dealer just because the Supreme Court makes a bad decision—but now he doesn’t need to worry about it.
Instead, TK is beaming as he climbs back into the truck, and Owen makes sure to clap him on the back and say, “Congrats, son. Nice save.”
It’s a good day.
–
On May 16, 2022, TK proposes to the man he loves, and he cries.