Work Text:
Carlos is at home when he hears about the explosion.
On days when TK works and Carlos is home, Carlos sometimes turns on the scanner and listens in on calls. He knows that it’s not a smart idea because whenever the 126 is involved in anything he’s tense until he knows that they’re back at the station safe but, that’s exactly why he does it.
Because he knows that if there’s a dangerous situation then it’s more than likely TK will be involved and Carlos has to know about it first. He’s done with being one of the last people to know - though since they got serious, before the breakup, he’d moved up to the top of the list - but he isn’t taking any chances.
It helps to ease his anxiety a little , and he’s decided that it’s better than sitting around and waiting for a phone call to come through telling him that TK’s in the hospital, again, fighting for his life.
Most days he hears nothing that’s a real call for concern so he’s learned to tune it out and pick up on keywords.
On this day, he’s doing the dishes when the call comes through that an ambulance has exploded at the site he knows the 126 is at because they answered the call. He had heard Tommy’s voice over the line earlier confirming they were en route.
The plate slips from his hand and he listens hard, hoping and praying more details are given that will let him know that TK is okay. Nothing comes across that can confirm or deny that thought and it leads to Carlos gripping the sink tightly, bowing his head, and trying to ease the wall of anxiety that hits him.
He has no reason to think that TK was anywhere near the ambulance that exploded or that it was his, it’s just Carlos’ anxiety causing him to think of the worst possible scenario.
“Breathe, Reyes, he’s fine,” he tells himself, focusing on his breathing and counting back from ten. When he feels like his heart isn’t going to beat out of his chest, he stands up and dries his hands. He makes his way through the kitchen and to the dining area, picking up his phone from where he left it earlier before he started to do the dishes.
He unlocks it, pulls up TK’s contact and immediately calls him.
It rings… and rings… and rings until finally he’s patched through to TK’s voice mail. Carlos hits end and tries again, only to reach the same outcome again.
He takes a deep breath and reminds himself that TK is at work and more than likely busy helping patients and that’s why he’s not answering his phone. It is a logical and valid explanation that Carlos’ anxiety does not like.
He pulls up their text thread and decides to send a message that TK can reply to when he gets the chance.
[Carlos] Hey babe, hope your day is going well. Heard some concerning calls over the scanner, can you confirm that you’re okay and I don’t have to make the drive to the hospital tonight? Love you x
Carlos stares at the message until it says “delivered” and then sets his phone face down on the table, telling himself that he’s going to finish his chores and not obsess over TK answering him back. He stares at his phone for a few moments before turning on his heel and forcing himself back into the kitchen to finish washing the dishes. He continues to listen to the scanner but nothing comes across that gives him information on what is actively happening and who might be hurt.
After dishes, he glances at his phone and almost checks it but forces himself to go into the living room instead and start cleaning in there. He manages to get himself to clean the entire living room and change out their winter throw pillows for their springtime ones before he breaks down and checks his phone.
There’s no message from TK.
This is one of those times that Carlos wishes that TK would be more glued to his phone while on the job. He lets out a loud sigh, drops his head back, and tries to tell himself that he’s being ridiculous. There’s nothing wrong with TK, he wasn’t in the abundance when it exploded, and he’s working , that’s why he’s not replying. It’s just a normal day.
He’s about to put his phone down when it pings with a message. He quickly looks at it, hoping it’s from TK but it’s not. It’s from Paul.
[Paul] I know you’re probably freaking out, TK’s fine. Stop worrying .
It’s almost annoying how perceptive Paul is about things. Still, his messages help Carlos’ anxiety a little bit and allow him to put his phone down and get back to his chores. He still jumps at every noise his phone makes, rushing to look at it just in case it’s TK or someone else telling him he’s needed at the hospital.
It never is.
Carlos tries to hold onto Paul’s words, to believe that TK’s okay but it doesn’t last long, and soon he’s stress-cleaning the rest of the loft. He doesn’t stop until TK walks through the door a few hours later, in one piece and looking exhausted.
“TK,” Carlos breathes, dropping the duster. He makes his way over to TK and grabs him by the shoulders. He looks at him, takes him in, and pats down every part of TK that he can to make sure he’s completely okay.
“Baby? You good?” TK asks with a tired laugh.
“Yeah,” Carlos says as he pulls TK into a hard hug once he’s confirmed that TK’s in one piece. “I heard about the explosion over the scanner and then I couldn’t get a hold of you…”
Carlos trails off, feeling ridiculous now.
TK’s arms come up to wrap around Carlos and he hugs him tightly.
“I’m okay baby,” TK says gently. “It wasn’t our ambulance that exploded, it was Paragon’s. Everyone’s safe and made it out alive.”
“That’s good.” Carlos continues to hug him for a few more moments before he pulls back. “How about you go shower and I’ll prepare a dinner for you, then we can relax on the couch and talk about your day?”
TK nods, leaning forward, and kisses Carlos’ cheek. “That sounds wonderful baby, thank you.”