Chapter Text
“Thanks, babe.” TK smiles, peeking out over the blanket wrapped around his shoulders as a cup of coffee is placed into his waiting hands.
Carlos, his own cup waiting on the counter behind him, smiles back and leans down to press a kiss to the corner of his lips, “It’s fine.” He says, “You still need to be resting. That bullet wound-“
“-won’t heal itself. Yes. You’ve said that a hundred times, and I love you for it I do, but I’m not in pain anymore, so I should be up and doing things.”
Carlos takes a sip from his coffee, humming in a way that sounds suspiciously noncommittal to TK.
“You know.” TK says, setting his cup down, “We should go out today. It’s great weather and it’s your day off. The farmer’s market, mall, boba, you name it, we’re there.”
“I’m not sure…” Carlos mumbles.
“Come on-“ TK starts to argue, before being promptly cut off by a loud thump on the front door.
Immediately, Carlos is passing TK in the kitchen and headed towards it, a smug smile on his face.
TK rolls his head back towards him, “Saved!” He yells, “Saved by the bell!”
Carlos tosses a grin over his shoulder as he clicks the lock and swings it open.
“Oh.” Carlos says, and TK frowns at the tone, craning to see who’s on the step. All he can see is a dark jacket and brown hair, which could feasibly be half of their neighbours and half of the people they know.
“Hey Owen.” Carlos says, stepping back and swinging the door open fully.
And sure enough, standing in their doorstep is none other than Owen Strand himself, looking very put together for the time of day, and a large box sat at his feet.
“Um, Dad?” TK asks, shrugging off the blanket from his shoulders and wandering towards the door, stopping at Carlos’ shoulder. He slides his arm around Carlos’ waist, leaning into him.
“I texted.” Owen says rather than explain, before shaking his head, “Anyways, I know we’re working on… on us, but I was digging through my boxes and I found this!“ He bends over to grab the box, and all but thrusts it into Carlos’ arms.
He doesn’t stop there though, he leans over and flicks up the flaps, nearly hitting Carlos in the face with them in his hurry and excitement to show TK what he’d brought over.
When he sees the top of what’s inside, TK laughs, a confused bubble of excitement in his chest, “Marlon Blendo?” He asks, feeling his smile stretch into a full blown grin. He remembers his Dad’s favourite blender. He remembers his Dad slaving over website after website and review after review of the perfect blender and buying this one, only for it to be banished to the storage locker within a week because his mother bought her own.
“Thanks?” He says, finding that despite being confused (did they really need a new blender at seven am on a Tuesday? Could it have not waited until his next shift?) he’s genuine in being grateful. Now that he thinks about it, he’s missed his ritual peanut butter and banana smoothies since being in Texas.
TK is so distracted running his fingers over the blender and inspecting it from inside the box, he nearly misses their second gift, which is by far the worst of the two.
“What is that?” Carlos asks, suspicious.
TK looks back to his father and openly grimaces. Owen is holding up a clear thermos, which in and of itself is not offensive, but the vomit-green liquid inside definitely is.
“Oh, this?” Owen waves his other hand nonchalantly, “I thought I’d give him a spin to make sure he still worked! Here, try, I’ll text you the recipe.”
Carlos smiles, the pain visible in his eyes as he gingerly takes the very green smoothie in his other hand, clearly being polite for the sake of Owen being TK’s father.
“Would you like to come in, Owen?” He adds.
“Oh no no, boundaries, yeah? We’re working on it.” Owen grins, utterly beaming, before shooting a gleeful wink at TK, “I have a shift to get to. I’ll see you guys later!”
And the door slams.
TK immediately turns and leans his head fully against Carlos’ shoulder, muffling the pained laughter he just has to set free.
Carlos laughs below him, shaking his head, completely incredulous, “I honestly cannot believe you two are related.” He wheezes.
TK scowls, but then then laughs again, unable to stop, “He’s trying.” He bites his lip, but it doesn’t help him stop as he takes the thermos of unidentified green smoothie from Carlos’ hand.
“One smoothie at a time.” He giggles, bravely clicking open the top and taking a sip. His reaction is almost violent, recoiling and screwing up his face. How can it be made of spinach but taste so sour? Why is there a smoky flavour? What are those lumps? He has so many questions.
“Ew. Jesus.” TK sticks his tongue out, face scrunching up, “Do not drink that. Let’s go and get boba.”
——
“You know, boba gets a bad rap because it basically has no nutritional value, but most people just don’t appreciate the fact that it’s fun to drink.” TK chews on the end of his straw during his pause, savouring the sweet, strawberry flavour melting on his tongue, “I mean, yeah, the tapioca’s sort of like blobs of snot, but, uh, it’s delicious blobs of snot.” He grins, taking another sip, and glancing up at Carlos, who just stares back at him, drink having gone relatively untouched.
“What?” TK asks, sitting up. He knows Carlos well enough to know something is bothering him.
Shrugging, Carlos spins his drink in little circles on the table, “You filibustered solid six minutes on boba.” He says, “Before that it was Billie Eilish, then the Cowboys’ running game… can you see where I’m going with this?”
TK feels like he should, but he’s still a bit lost, “No.” He says, “Not really.”
“The elephant in the juice bar.” Carlos replies, “Talking about things I know you don’t care about makes me think you have something else to say that you’re nervous about.”
“That’s ridiculous.” TK mutters, “I don’t hide things from you.”
“I know.” Carlos smiles, genuine, reaching over the table to clasp his hand, “But I do think you have something to say. I know you, TK. I am not ashamed to say that I can read you like a book.”
TK usually loves that, would usually think that it’s hot and romantic for Carlos to tell him, but right now, he hates it. Mostly because he’s right, and TK had been trying to distract himself from something.
Adamant, he still shakes his head, “It’s just work.” He insists.
Carlos squeezes their hands, “Said no first responder ever.” The sarcasm is positively dripping off the words.
TK grins, “Okay.” He sighs, “Okay. I just… I think I want to come clean to the team.”
“About…”
“My Dad, mostly. They have questions, I’m sure. They were all there when I got shot. They uh- none of them know anything about me, really. I mean Judd knows more than anyone, but the others…”
The others know next to nothing. The others have been kept in the dark about some of the most important things.
Carlos clearly knows where this is going, “Your addiction?” He asks.
“My addiction.” TK agrees, blinking as the waitress comes up to them with the card machine and the bill.
Distracted for a moment, TK grabs his card from the tabletop, “I got it.” He says, even as Carlos scowls at him, card in hand also, but slowly putting it away.
“I’m sorry.” He says, tapping his card against the machine, “This wasn’t supposed to be a heavy morning. We can talk about this later.”
Carlos shakes his head, “No-“ He pauses, smiling at the waitress as she walks away, making her quick exit from their clearly important discussion. As they both stand, grabbing their phones and drinks, he turns back to TK, “I asked, and I asked because I wanted the answer. I’m having fun. Where to next?”
TK grins, bumbling his shoulder as they fall into step together down the road, “Hmm…” He wonders, looking around at the familiar set of stores, “How about…”
“Ow- the hell?”
TK blinks, turning backwards, the elect wires popping and smoking above them, someone’s scooter ramming off a pavement, a car horn going, the traffic lights dying, a bus flinging itself onto the street, everything happening all at once.
He blinks, gripping Carlos’ shirt sleeve in his hand, turning back to his boyfriend, “What the hell?” He asks, stepping back towards the boba shop, “Sir!” He calls out to the first man he sees in trouble, well-trained instincts taking over, “Are you okay- oh my god!”
——
“-just added a few stitches.” TK says as he looks up at his father. He clenches the water bottle in his hand, and can’t seem to stop the incessant tapping of his foot against the floor.
“Then why do you look like you’re about to jump off a ledge?” Owen looks at him with a calculating frown, as if he’s trying to do the math here but it’s not quite adding up.
He’s not sure what TK’s going to do, but he can clearly tell it’s going to be big.
TK doesn’t think he can say it twice, so he ignores his father.
“Hey, guys?“ TK asks, swinging himself off the bench and towards the crew, propelled forwards until he comes to a stop an arms length from them all, “Can I have a second of your time?“
“Why?” Nancy asks, a huge grin on her face, goofy and tired as she uses the rug to prop herself up, “You practicing to be a door to door salesman?” She teases, turning her head to Paul as she pretends to imitate him, “Can I please have a second of your time?”
Marjan snorts as she hops down from the rig, hiding the noise behind her hand and avoiding TK’s eyes. TK rolls his eyes and pinches Nancy in the side, earning himself an irritated slap on the arm.
“Hey hey, let’s hear what the kid has to say.” Judd reminds them after a moment, cutting into the evolving scuffle.
Owen nods, stepping up to Judd’s side with his hands in her pockets and that curious look still in his eye. But he hangs back. He gives him space. Boundaries. TK smiles, letting him know that he’s appreciative, and steps back a little so he can see all the crew’s faces, gauge all their reactions to what he’s about to say.
He takes a deep breath, and lets it all go, “My name isn’t Kennedy.”
“TK, you don’t have to do this.” Owen cuts in, stepping forwards and opening his hand out, reaching out for TK’s arm, gripping it.
TK shakes his head. He does have to do this. He wants to do this. Most importantly, he’s ready to do this.
Brushing Owen off, he opens his mouth again, except he’s not the one who gets there first.
“He’s your father.” Paul says, blunt.
TK blinks back, “What?” He shakes his head, “Well… yes, but what?”
Paul shrugs, “I deduce things. Plus, you called out for your Dad when you got hit. Given that and the fact that you guys have a lot of chats in private…”
Marjan and Mateo mumble in agreement.
Judd slaps Paul on the shoulder with the back of his hand, not unfriendly but still firm, “Let’s just let T get out what he wants to say either way, eh?”
Paul nods.
“Thanks.” TK says. He wanted to do this, he reminds himself. The first confession had been so easy… in for five, out for five, “I am. TK Strand, I mean. Owen-“ He looks back at the man, their Captain, “Is my father. We were… estranged. I ran away and ended up with the 126.”
Gently, he tugs on the medal that sits heavy around his neck every day, clasping it in his palm, rolling the familiar weight around, “-and they saved me from the hardest time in my life.”
He sighs, looking down at it, tracing the lines of the words inscribed, “I’ve been… doubting myself, since the accident. Doubting my father, doubting you all, doubting the fact that this place is for me.” He sighs, “But I’m done doubting. This is the place I want to be, and you all are the 126 I want to be with, so I want to be honest.”
For the last time, he looks up, and he looks into each one of their eyes, steady and intense.
“I’m the captain’s kid and I’m a recovering addict.” A beat, “That’s-“ He shakes his head, a single bark of laughter escaping him, because how could such simple words be so hard to force out of his lungs, “That’s all.”
There’s a long, long silence.
Then, “I’m dyslexic.” Mateo says, “And I’m really, really afraid of butterflies.”
TK huffs, feeling the telltale pull of a grin on his lips.
Judd’s laugh booms off the roof, just as amused as TK, if not more. “Well alright kid!” He grins, slapping Mateo on the back.
Paul’s laugh joins in, looking TK right in the eyes, “I’m trans.” He says, “And I was on antidepressants for a long time.”
“I got PTSD.” Judd chirps in a voice perhaps too joyful for the topic, “And hell-“ He grins, “I really hate spiders!”
Marjan tries to stifle her own giggle behind her hand, to no avail, “Well, shit, here we go, I guess.” She sobers and rolls her eyes, “I don’t know if I’ve got something to rival that-“
TK shakes his head, “It’s-“
“I do!” Nancy grins, throwing her arms up, “I was bullied in high school. For being tall, for being queer, for being horrendously bad at baseball…” She bounces on the balls of her feet, looking to TK with a beaming smile on her face.
He feels tears well up in his eyes. He can’t believe it. He can’t believe he ever thought for one second that this crew would judge him.
“Guys…” He whines, scrubbing furiously at the tears freely cascading down his cheeks, and they all laugh with him, rather than at him like in his dreams.
“Aw no don’t cry!” Nancy yells, throwing her arms around him without an ounce of reservation. She latches on like a limpet, smacking a loud, over-exaggerated kiss onto the top of his head. TK winces, stumbling back, but as soon as he does Judd is there to steady him, and then Paul is there and then Marjan and then Mateo and then oh, there’s Owen too. They’re a ball of bodies and limbs, tangled up in each other.
“Jeez somebody’s ripe.” TK complains, if only to say something that isn’t sappy and emotional, but there’s no heat to it. He’d take the sweaty-sooty stink any day, to relive this moment.
Mateo snorts on his left, “Judd.”
Marjan grimaces, “I don’t know probie, you’re pretty whiffy out here…”
“Hey!” Mateo yelps, pulling away as the two of them scuffle, getting in each other’s faces, batting at each other’s arms, the hugest of smiles plastered onto both of them.
Paul’s hands melt away too, and Nancy gets dragged onto Mateo’s side of the argument pretty quickly.
Suddenly not the centre of focus, TK sighs, feeling his muscles relax, feeling the dark cloud that had been hanging over his head finally roll away. Every little thing about him is out in the open, now, and he already loves it more than words can describe.
He glances up to Judd, the only one with an arm still around him, nestled tightly over his shoulders. The man he calls his brother smiles down at him, eyes flicking to his chest and back. Looking down, he realises he’d forgotten to tuck his pendant back into his shirt.
Judd reaches out with his spare hand, stopping him from hiding it away again. He palms the metal, closing his fingers around it.
“The boys’ve got you.” He says, hoarse and whispered, just for the two of them, “I’ve got you.” He says, a little louder, his hand ruffling TK’s hair. Then he nods his head to the rest of the crew, “We’ve all got you, kid. Don’t forget.”
——
When Carlos arrives, it’s only too easy to relax completely, falling into his arms and holding onto him tightly and telling him proudly and loudly that he’d told everyone.
“You want to get out of here?” Is all Carlos had asked after listening to him talk, his arms settled around TK’s torso, his chin hooked over his shoulder, “I have something to show you.”
——
The lights are perfect. They’re gorgeous and perfect and TK doesn’t think he’s ever going to see anything so stunning in the sky again unless he ends up in space somehow. Unlikely.
They stay so long that when they finally tiredly traipse through the door, the sun is coming up and their jackets are damp and their skin is cold.
TK wraps his arms around Carlos after they’ve kicked their shoes off, dragging him back, stopping him from going to clear up the kitchen.
“I’ll do it.” He says, nudging Carlos in the direction of the stairs.
Carlos blinks back, slow and processing, “You never offer.” He murmurs, adorable in how he cocks his head to the side and frowns.
TK laughs, if only because that’s the cutest face he’s ever seen Carlos make, and Carlos is so tired he barely even looks like he’ll remember this conversation tomorrow. He scoffs, “Way to make me sound like a good boyfriend.”
At that, Carlos huffs and chuckles for himself, even as his eyes slip closed and he lets out an ear-splitting yawn. He smacks his lips and swallows, pressing his pointed finger sternly into TK’s chest as he says, “Only if you promise to do it right.”
Unable to stop himself, TK laughs again, but it’s all in good humour, he swears. He rolls his eyes, “Such a control freak even when you’re so tired you’re falling asleep standing up.” He teases.
Carlos just slumps his shoulders and rests his head against TK’s shoulder. He’s too tall to fit without shrinking himself a little, but he never complains. In fact, TK can feel the way he smiles into the soft fabric of his hoodie, “‘S cos I feel so safe with you.” He slurs, getting less lucid by the second.
TK hums, running a hand up and down the long planes of Carlos’ back and letting his boyfriend grumble unintelligibly to his heart’s content. He has no clue what the words are, whether they’re English or Spanish, but he doesn’t care.
Eventually, he turns his head to the side for fresh air, and grumbles, “Gonna marry you one day, Tyler Kennedy.” All in one breath. His eyes are glazed over and he’s drop dead exhausted and it’s basically pillow talk- TK should leave it. Should ignore it and not get his hopes up. But simply the thought makes him vibrate out of his skin, makes him sing with happiness.
He runs a hand back through Carlos’ curls in the same way he likes when he’s the one being comforted, and presses a single kiss to Carlos’ forehead, lips lingering an inch from his skin.
“Not if I get there first.” He whispers, as if it was a secret, just for them, and they needed to hide it from the sofa and the coffee table.
Carlos just looks at him with such wonderment, pupils going wide, deep brown eyes going even darker.
TK sighs. This is great, this is wonderful, but enough is enough and they do need to make it to bed sometime soon. They have the rest of their lives to have this conversation as many times as they want.
“Go on, I’ll be up in a minute.” He urges, turning Carlos back towards the stairs.
This time he doesn’t protest going up, and simply lets TK’s firm but gentle hands guide him.
His boyfriend gone, TK makes quick work of tidying the living room and the kitchen. He folds a few blankets and fluffs a few pillows and dries a few dishes, which doesn’t feel like much, but he knows it will bug Carlos to come downstairs later and see them lingering.
He’s on the last step of the stairs and just flicking off all the lights when his phone rings.
A large lump underneath the covers, Carlos grumbles and rolls over away from the noise.
TK sits back on the end of the bed, pulling off his hoodie and answering it without thinking, because the only person it could possibly be this late is Judd, he thinks.
“You know you didn’t have to call to check in, Judd.” He says, shooting a glance behind him at Carlos’ cocoon again, “Make it quick, too, Carlos is asleep already.”
Then he stops, waiting for the inevitable teasing or banter or smart snap-back, but nothing comes. There’s just a long, somehow tense silence on the other end, and he’s prompted to look at the contact.
Suddenly, his heart jumps into his throat. He brings the phone back to his ear. When he swallows, his mouth is somehow dry.
“Mom?” He whispers, tears welling in his eyes.
Another silence. He nearly cries out, there’s so much pressure in his chest, building with every speedy thump-thump.
Then, “Sorry.” She says. She as in his mother, his real, actual, perfect mother who he’s missed so painfully for two years, and she sounds like an angel.
He doesn’t quite sob, doesn’t have enough air in his lungs after holding his breath, but it’s a near thing.
“I just-“ She stumbles, “Hearing your voice… TK, my sweet boy…”
TK does sob this time, and he slaps his hand over his mouth to cover it, biting down on one of his fingers.
Carlos makes another noise of discontent behind him, but soon settles again.
“Mom.” TK whispers again, when he’s sure he’s not going to explode from all the emotions that had washed over him like a tsunami.
“I’m sorry it took me so long, honey.” She coos.
TK inhales sharply, “It’s okay.” He breathes, “It’s okay- god, its more than okay. You’re here now, you- mom.” He bursts again, still halfway sobbing, even as he clamps down on most of it.
This time Carlos half sits up, and looks over at him with lidded eyes, questioning. TK can see the way he moves sluggishly, but still takes in what he’s seeing, and nearly curses. He scrambles further into the bed, running a hand down his cheek softly, “Babe, shh, go back to sleep, it’s alright.”
“But- you-“
“Sad cat video.” He says, “I promise. I’ll be in to cuddle in a second.” With another brush down his cheek, TK shuffles out of the bedroom, closing the door over after him.
He doesn’t go far. He just loiters in the hall at the top of the stairs, but he’s happy to hear Carlos slump heavily back into the sheets after a moment.
His mother is silent on the other end until he breathes in, and she must hear it because she cuts him off, “Your father-“ She starts.
TK shakes his head so fast it’s almost violent, “I don’t care.” He snaps, “I want to talk to you, Mom.”
On the other end, he can hear her own matching sobs.
“I want you to come home.” She says, voice catching on the last word.
TK inhales sharply, for the first time in their conversation steady as he replies, “I am home.”
TK knows his mother, and he knows that Gwyn has never once compromised with anyone. Not with Owen and not with her clients and certainly not with him. So something about his tone must convince her that he means each word.
“Then maybe…” She trails off, “Maybe I should come and see that home.”
“Oh please… God, please, Mom, I miss you more than I thought I knew how.”