L is for Lifelines, Loyalty, and Louis The Second (TK)

Not so confident with the plot line for this, especially as my own story instead of episode related, but L just had to contain something about Lou, so this is set after 4x12, just before 4x15.

Hope it’s ok. I don’t know anything about sobriety and sponsorships other than what I learned from this show, so I hope I’ve done justice.

*No bearded dragons were harmed in the creation of this fic.*

*SMH it really shouldn’t be necessary to add that …what have I done? Lou II, I’m sorry.*

TK P.O.V

The peace of the bunkroom was palpable, broken only by the soft hum of the building's equipment. The rows of neatly lined wooden beds stood in uniform order, dimly lit by faint emergency lights that cast long shadows along the walls.

The calm shattered as a phone buzzed insistently, its vibrations rattling against the wood of the bed frame with an urgency that pierced the quiet. TK jerked up slightly as his bed shook under the same persistent sensation, before flopping face-first back onto the pillow, groaning into the fabric. The noise was accompanied by the soft creaks and faint rustle of movement from the other bunks.

A muffled grumble echoed from across the room, Judd’s accent thick with sleep. “Turn it off, brother. The only tones in here are the ones calling us to a fire.” He shifted, pulling his blanket higher over his head as though hoping to shut out the disruption.

A faint huff followed from closer to him, light with teasing. "They’re not even married yet, and they already can't hold off till morning. Cops might not get to on shift, but remind him the rest of us need our beauty sleep!"

“Just wait till their first shift after the honeymoon.”

Ignoring the others, TK groped blindly for the phone under his pillow, his fingers finally finding the cursed device wedged between the mattress and the bed frame. Their teasing words registered just enough to make him half-expect Carlos’s name to flash on the glowing screen.

Instead, his heart skipped a beat as he sat up fully, his eyes locking onto the display.

Cooper.

The earlier grogginess gone, it was quickly replaced by confusion and alarm, as TK swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

It might have been a while since he'd last attended a proper meeting, but while they still occasionally exchanged texts or call after particularly rough shifts - Cooper never called him.

"Son?" His dad’s voice floated from the far corner, the question gently prying, but with a worried edge.

"Not Carlos," TK murmured, rubbing his face as he slid his feet into his boots. "Go back to sleep."

The phone rings out as he leaves the room, the silence a short lived relief as it restarts only moments later, doing nothing but emphasising the urgency of the call.

The emptiness of the firehouse engulfed him as he moved downstairs, the stillness a far cry from the usual chaotic energy. Despite the many years he’d spent in different firehouses and the sense of safety and familiarity they brought him, the eeriness of the place at night had never fully been erased.

He entered the kitchen and leaned against the counter, the cold granite grounding him as his thumb swiped over the screen to accept the call, before it rang to voicemail a second time.

“Coop? What’s up?” TK answered, concern evident. “I thought you weren’t back from Dallas till tomorrow.”

“Sorry,” Cooper sounded tense like he was choosing his words carefully. “I know you were probably asleep.”

“Nothing I haven’t done to you,” TK replied. It was true, even if it had been a while since his 3 a.m. struggles last year.

Cooper was silent for a moment, and TK could almost picture him pacing. “One of my... um... she’s not doing great.” His words faltered slightly as if searching for the right way to ask. “I can send an Uber to her, on me, but she doesn’t have anywhere to go. I wouldn’t usually ask, and you can say no, but I still won’t be back till morning. Could you talk to her?”

A pang of frustration hit him, instincts to say yes warring with the reality of his responsibilities at hand. “I’m on shift,” he said, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

A long pause followed, and then Cooper’s voice rushed back through the line. “Oh, shoot... you’re on a 24. Sorry… I forgot to ask if- Okay, never mind, I’ll call around, I just-”

TK's attention was fixed on the clock on the wall. It was almost 1 a.m., but that didn’t matter. He couldn’t let someone fall through the cracks. He couldn’t let someone fall through the cracks. If it had been him, back before, without someone there to pull him out of the dark, he might never have made it this far.

He shook his head, even though Cooper couldn’t see it, interjecting. “No, no. Have the car bring her here. Everyone’s asleep at the moment.”

He didn’t second-guess himself. Even on shift, he wouldn’t ignore someone in trouble, simply because the tones hadn’t been the ones to send him there.

Cooper let out a long breath, relief colouring his tone. “You sure? I don’t want to dump this on you at work.”

“The firehouse is a safe haven for a reason,” TK returned with resolve. “I’ll wait for her. If she’s worried about official stuff, tell her no questions asked.”

“Thanks, man. I owe you one. I’ll ask her and hit you back.”

TK stands there for a moment, staring at the screen even after it disconnected. Anxiety builds as he tries to prepare himself. He’s never been the one to guide anyone in N.A., always the one needing help, but never a chance to offer. He does, however, know the drill of stepping up into situations he knows nothing about. Despite the uncertainty, he can’t shake the feeling that this is something he can’t walk away from.

His fingers tapped lightly against the phone as he waited. A moment later, the phone vibrates, and glancing at the text, releasing a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

Grabbing his hoodie from his locker, he pulls it over his head as he heads out the bay doors. The cool air hits him immediately, cutting through the remnants of the heat from inside. The night feels sharp, with a different kind of quiet than the one inside. It’s one that makes you hyper-aware of every sound, the distant hum of traffic and the soft scrape of his boots against the concrete.

Sure enough, not fifteen minutes later, headlights appear, rounding the corner. His heart ticks up as the car slows, coming to a stop in front of him.

When there's no movement for several seconds, he steps forward, only for the rear door to tentatively crack open. A moment later, a young woman pulled herself free of the cramped space. Her movements are slow and deliberate, as though she’s unsure of what comes next, and she stares at the ground for a moment, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, but something tells TK it’s not because of the cold.

She’s no older than nineteen, her face pale and drawn. Her eyes are rimmed red like she’s been crying for hours, and there’s a split lip, already beginning to swell, with a faint bruise forming along her jaw.

TK’s stomach twists. He steps aside so as not to crowd her, but gestures toward the door with a silent invitation. “Hey. Come on in.”

She looks at him for a moment, then slowly steps toward the firehouse, her movements stiff, as though every part of her is holding back. She hesitates at the threshold, glancing around at the vast, darkened space, but maybe it’s in fact that same emptiness that ultimately convinces her to take that final step inside.

“I… Cooper said you’d help me. I’m sorry.” She broke the silence for the first time.

"No, it's okay. Cooper has helped me many times before. I'm happy to return the favour for one of his friends," TK reassured her.

Slowly, he guided her towards the kitchen, snatching his medic's rucksack from the same locker as earlier as they passed. Something told him he would need it.

“I’m TK.” He continued. “The rest of the crew is sleeping don’t worry. They won’t bother us unless the alarms sound.”

She nodded, her fingers picking at the frayed hem of her sleeve. Filling a glass of water, TK set it in front of her before taking a seat across from where she was hovering.

“So, what can I call you?”

She hesitated, looking nervously around the room. “Bree.”

"Bree.” TK echoed. “Can you tell me if you're hurt anywhere else besides what I can see? I'm a paramedic."

She stiffened, fear radiating off her like a cloud. “No hospitals,” she countered sharply.

“No hospitals,” TK agreed, giving her a gentle nod. “But I don’t want to leave anything untreated, okay?”

She didn’t respond at first. Her gaze flickered over to the paramedic bag, her anxiety clinging to her like a second skin. Finally, she tugged at the fabric of her sleeve, pulling it up to her elbow to reveal a deep gash. The wound was newly scabbed over but still peppered with fresh blood. The dark material of her top had apparently hidden any stain.

TK didn’t press. Instead, he let the silence linger as he opened his rucksack, pulling out what he needed, letting the rhythm of his actions ease some of the tension. Opening a small packet of antiseptic, he paused, holding out his hand, palm up, a silent request for hers.

She hesitated, a tightness in her posture as though bracing for something, but slowly, she perched on the edge of the stools and reached her arm across the table.

“So, how do you know Cooper?” TK started, breaking the silence gently.

She shrugged lightly, her movements cautious. She didn’t flinch as he began cleaning the wound, noting with relief that it wouldn’t require stitches. “He turns up at the free clinic sometimes. All the guys there, they think he’s loco. They don’t want no lecture about sobriety. But, well, he’s gotta at least try sometimes, I guess. We talked, and he’s chill.”

TK nodded, silently taking in her words. Gently placing a square of gauze over the cut, he watched her closely, registering the slight tremor in her hands: signs he recognized all too well.

“Off any record,” TK began carefully, moving in a fluid motion as he wrapped the final bandage. “But when was the last time you took something?”

Her posture tightened, but she didn’t shy away from his question, catching the underlying question he was asking. “It’s fine,” she said quickly, almost too quickly. “Haven’t had anything hard for days. I’m through the worst of it.”

TK nodded, in some part relieved. He’d both experienced and treated withdrawal symptoms, aware of how dangerous they could be if not monitored or treated properly, and that would have been much harder to manage discreetly.

“This cut...was it clean?” he asked, continuing as if his previous question had never happened. “The weapon, I mean.”

She froze for a moment, his question catching her off guard, her eventual answer tight and mirrored with a shrug of indifference. “I guess so– just a kitchen knife. Uncle caught me skimming this week's take,” she murmured, bitterness lacing her voice. “Same story as always.”

TK’s hands stilled for a moment as a knot tightened in his chest. There was more to her story, but he knew he couldn’t force it out of her.

"I used to feel that way" he confessed instead. "Life would improve, only to crumble again. Nothing felt permanent. It took being uprooted from New York combined with surviving a couple comas to trust life again, no matter what it threw at me."

Bree remained silent, avoiding eye contact to instead lock onto the surface of the table. TK's stomach knotted as he watched her, a sense of dread creeping in, wondering if he'd gone too far.

“Sorry - you don’t need to hear my life story.” He gestured again toward her arm, backtracking. “It’s good that it was clean. It doesn’t look infected, but if you notice redness, swelling, or sharp pain, those could be signs to get it checked out.”

Bree shifted, simply pulling her sleeve back down over the bandage. “Sure, thanks.”

“Would you like anything else?” TK continued. “I’m pretty sure there are leftovers in the fridge. Paul, my colleague, made a great pot of chilli for dinner.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she gave the smallest shake of her head. “No, I’ve bothered you enough.” She stood abruptly, her movements sharp and purposeful. “I should go home. Things’ll have calmed down by now.”

Alarmed, TK rose equally as fast.

“Wait, you’re - ?” His sudden movement startled her, and he immediately regretted the way his words sounded. Too forceful. He took a step back and softened his stance, apologetically. “Sorry. I just mean, you could stay here if you want. At least until morning. Cooper will be back by then if you’d rather talk to him than me.”

She hesitated, her gaze darting to the bay doors. For a moment, TK was sure she was about to bolt, as her weight shifted from one foot to the other, as if tethered by indecision.

“It’s fine, really,” TK added, his hands lifting in a gesture of reassurance. “No strings, no expectations. Just a place to crash.”

Her fingers tightened briefly around her sleeve, a subtle sign of her inner conflict. “Okay."

“Great,” TK said with an encouraging smile, masking the relief that swept over him. "Let me grab you something to make it more comfortable.”

He jogged upstairs, taking the narrow hall to the supply closet. It was tucked at the far end, filled with spare linens, and he quickly grabbed a couple throws.

When he came back, Bree hadn't moved, but her uncertainty was still evident.

“Here,” TK said, making his way through the kitchen toward the couches. “It’s not the Ritz, and the tones might wake you up, but it’s less crowded than the bunks upstairs.”

She took the blanket he offered, her movements careful and tentative, before she curled up on her side, pulling it over her. “It’s fine,” she murmured.

TK busied himself for a moment, disposing of the used materials, unsure whether to stay nearby or give her space. She seemed a little more at ease now, looking every bit her young age, and the last thing he wanted was to make her uncomfortable.

After a few beats, he compromised, taking the second blanket and curling up in the chair a little distance away. The gap between them felt like the right balance, close enough to be reassuring, far enough to give her privacy.

He sat there staring at the wall, his thoughts racing. He didn't think he'd done much good, merely only treated her injuries, but it was obvious she wasn't going to trust easily, and that was fair, considering the small details she had shared.

He hadn't intended to fall asleep, but the pull of exhaustion from an already long shift apparently didn’t agree. The familiar shrill of the alarms yanked him out of his unsettled dreams, adrenaline surging through his system as he bolted upright.

Disoriented, his brain scrambled to catch up as he uncurled his legs from under him. His neck, unsurprisingly stiff from the awkward angle, ached as his eyes found the clock, just past 5 a.m., before the familiar din of movement and voices surrounded him, pulling him out of his haze.

“TK, come on,” Nancy’s voice called out as her hand shook his shoulder from behind, making him jump. "Two morning cyclists collided on West 35th."

TK shook his head, mid-yawn. “You go. I need to ask Tommy if...”

His words died as his gaze landed on the now-empty spot on the couch. The blanket wasn’t discarded or rumpled, it was neatly folded at the end, like some kind of silent goodbye.

“She’s gone,” he muttered, his stomach sinking.

Nancy frowned. “Who’s gone? And what were you even doing down here?”

TK didn’t answer immediately, his eyes scanning the space and then the kitchen. If not for the blanket, there would be no sign she’d even been there, the water glass was on the draining board, and his paramedic bag was zipped and placed neatly on one of the stools. She’d left without a trace, slipping away silently while he’d been asleep.

"Seriously, dude. You coming or not?" Nancy continued, grabbing his arm and almost tugging him toward the ambulance. "Let’s go."

TK shook himself out of his daze, forcing his thoughts back to work. He grabbed the pack and followed Nancy toward the rig, the weight in his chest lingering as he climbed aboard.

Disappointment gnawed at him like an open wound. It wasn’t just that she'd left, he wasn’t exactly keeping her prisoner, but it was the feeling that he’d somehow let her, and Cooper, down.

As the engine pulled out of the bay, TK stared blankly out the window, the first rays of dawn beginning to illuminate the empty road, except for a lone sedan, dark and still, across the street.

~*~ ~*~

The ambulance pulled back into the firehouse bay hours later, the sun fully risen and spilling bright light across the concrete. TK’s muscles ached. The first call had been followed by another, despite his shift technically ending half an hour ago. As he stepped out of the rig, his stomach growled, a sharp reminder that he hadn’t eaten since dinner.

Inside, the station hummed with activity as the second shift mingled with the last stragglers from the previous one. Most their friends had already cleared out, but Paul was still there, methodically tidying up from breakfast, The rhythmic clink of plates against the sink echoed softly, mingling with the warm, comforting aroma of maple syrup and freshly brewed coffee that lingered in the air.

“Hey, saved you three some pancakes,” Paul called out as the trio walked in, his tone light despite the early hour.

“You’re a hero, man,” Nancy chimed in, TK echoing her thanks with a nod. “I’m famished.”

“No worries,” Paul replied, leaning against the counter as he dried his hands. “Oh, but TK...you’ve got a visitor. Says you were expecting him.”

TK blinked, his brows furrowing in momentary confusion. Then it clicked: Cooper. He’d texted after the first call but hadn’t managed to reply during the rush of emergencies.

He turned toward where Paul gestured. Near the foosball table, Cooper was waiting with his own empty plate of breakfast - trust Paul to feed everyone - even those he barely knew by mention and had yet to meet.

Cooper raised a hand in greeting and picked up his plate to join them. The sight brought a pang of guilt back to his chest, and TK took a steadying breath before beckoning him to follow, leading him outside into the crisp morning air.

Once they were alone, TK didn't wait before blurting out, “I’m sorry. I thought she’d feel safe enough to stick around, at least until you got here. I got her to rest, but I fell asleep, and when I woke up, she was gone.”

Cooper leaned against the side of the building, his gaze steady. “It’s not your fault, TK. I should be saying thank you.”

TK ran a hand through his hair, pacing a few steps. “I just...I should’ve stayed awake. Or maybe I said something I shouldn’t have-”

“It wasn’t you, man,” Cooper interjected. “You did everything you could, but Bree has always been elusive. When she’s spent her whole life like she has, I don’t blame her.”

TK stopped pacing, his shoulders slumping as he listened, the words hitting harder than he expected. “She told me a little,” he admitted. “About her uncle, and the drugs.”

Cooper nodded, his jaw tightening briefly. “Yeah. She didn’t stand a chance, not with a family like hers. She didn’t have a chance. Barely a teenager and she wasn’t just around the stash but hooked on it.”

A mixture of sadness and anger bubbled under TK’s skin. “How is anyone supposed to survive that?”

“They aren’t, not without help,” Cooper said quietly. “You gave her a place to breathe, TK, even if it was just for a bit. I just wish I’d met her sooner than last year. Then maybe I’d have had more options.”

TK nodded, though he refused to picture Bree as a minor in that same situation. She already looked young enough. Not that there was ever an age limit for these kinds of things.

“I just… I wanted to do more,” TK said, tinged with regret.

“I know the feeling, trust me,” Cooper replied, desolately. "I’ve been working on something, but I don't know. I’m good with understanding drug use, but not this. It might make things worse. Yet, if she won’t trust law enforcement or refuses the shelters, what else can I do?"

He shrugged, pushing off the wall in a resigned movement, pulling out his keys. “I’ll check in with her, don’t worry. I know a few places she might go.”

“Let me know if there’s anything I can do,” TK said earnestly.

“You’ve done plenty already.” Cooper offered a faint smile as they headed toward his car. “Anyway, aren’t you in the middle of wedding planning? Bet you can’t wait. Let Carlos know I said hey, will ya?”

“Yeah, will do!” TK replied, forcing a smile as he watched Cooper climb into his vehicle. “See you at a meeting?”

“You know it.” As Cooper’s car pulled out of the lot, TK turned back toward the firehouse with a heavy sigh, the morning light casting a blinding glow on his face.

He just wanted to get home.

Carlos had messaged to say he was stopping by the store on his way home from his shift, but TK was already running late enough for that to matter anymore.

When he’d first fallen asleep last night, he’d been eagerly anticipating the twelve hours plus today they both had off together, the first all week.

Now he just hoped his head cleared before getting home. He would not dampen the excitement.

In hindsight, if he hadn’t been so caught up replaying the night’s events, he might have noticed the second dark sedan now parked across the street. The driver of one, hidden behind tinted windows, snapped a quick photo before pulling out to follow the car that had just left. It blended seamlessly into the Austin traffic, leaving the first car alone again in wait.

~*~TARLOS~*~ ~*~TARLOS~*~

Carlos P.O.V:

The loft was quiet, save for the faint rustle of grocery bags as Carlos set them down on the counter.

He’d just finished his shift an hour ago, and for once, it aligned with TK’s- something that hadn’t happened in nearly a week. First, though, he needed to get the tedious chores out of the way, because with only a short window of time together before his next shift in the morning, they definitely planned to make the most of it.

He moved efficiently, unpacking and restocking everyone’s choice of snacks with precision, the mundane ritual providing him with a sense of calm. The next 126 hang was scheduled for the following night and they’d definitely been running low. On the plus side, however, he had managed to also find everything to make one of TK’s favourite dinners later, one in particular that didn’t require much prep.

The sound of the sliding door pulled his attention, and he looked up just as TK walked in. Carlos’s heart warmed at the sight of him, though his smile faltered when he noticed the exhaustion in TK’s expression. There was something about the way TK’s shoulders drooped, how his usual spark seemed dimmer. It wasn’t the kind of tiredness that could be explained by a disturbed night of calls - it was deeper.

“Hey, babe,” Carlos greeted warmly, coming around the counter.

He closed the distance with a few long strides, pulling TK into a tight embrace before pressing a quick, comforting kiss to his temple.

“Hey, how was your shift?” TK asked, his voice softer now, as he kicked off his boots with a groan and shrugged out of his jacket, his attention already locked onto Lou’s terrarium. Moving toward the tank, the garment was discarded on the sofa, his hands already reaching for the latch. He glanced back, however, with tired but genuine curiosity.

Carlos paused for a moment, frustrated by how many arguments could unfold in one night over the most trivial things. “Full of mundane disputes, but nothing we couldn’t handle. I was just ready for it to be over.”

“Yeah, same,” TK replied wearily.

He watched as TK slid the glass open and gently lifted Lou out, his movements tender. “And what about you, buddy?” TK cooed to the bearded dragon. “Did you miss me? Huh? Of course, you did. So did I.”

Lou blinked slowly, his claws scrabbling to find purchase on TK’s shirt as he settled him on his shoulder. Eventually, the tiny body relaxed, his head tilting in curiosity as his beady eyes took in the surroundings.

Carlos couldn’t help the tug of affection at the sight. He had no attachment to the scaly creature, but he couldn’t help but love the way the little guy seemed to bring out a warmth in TK, no matter how drained he might be.

He raised an eyebrow, mock disdain creeping in. “You’ve only had him for a few weeks, and I’m already replaced?”

TK looked back at him with a playful glint in his eye, the faintest edge of a grin curling the corner of his lips. “Come on, babe. He’s family now. You had to know that when you got him.”

Carlos crossed his arms, arching an eyebrow, but he didn’t press the point further. TK’s facade hadn’t held long, slipping with a shift in posture. Carlos could tell TK was holding something back.

“Bad shift?” he asked instead, the question carrying a subtle concern.

TK nodded but didn’t say much, running a finger down Lou's scaled back. Exhaling slowly, he crossed the space, his shoulders slumping even more as he sank onto the couch. The little dragon shifted from the sudden drop but stayed comfortably in place. “Not like you’d think,” he replied. “Cooper needed a favour overnight, while he was out of town. Someone in a rough patch.”

Carlos softened in understanding. Hearing Cooper’s name no longer stirred up the same insecurity it once had. Over time, he'd learned to trust that TK's heart was where it needed to be.

“That was good of you to step in,” he said, his tone sincere as he poured coffee into the mugs.

TK leaned back, running a hand through his hair. It was a small, unconscious gesture, but Carlos knew the silent tell of how much the day had taken out of him.

“Why do domestic problems always have to be so…” TK trailed off, the words seemingly caught in his throat as he searched for a way to express it.

Carlos glanced over. “They can be pretty tough. Every time I get called out to a domestic, it’s like peeling an onion. Too many layers - and they all usually sting.”

TK let out a short laugh, but it lacked its usual warmth. “It’s just… if she refuses shelters or doesn’t want to risk involving law enforcement because of... well...” He stopped, shaking his head. “Sorry.”

Carlos set the coffee cups down on the table and moved to sit beside him. “Don’t be,” he said, gentle but firm. “Some cops do have a reputation for going after the smaller fish instead of seeing the bigger picture. I try. But with domestic cases, it’s like our hands are tied. All you can do is be there. Help in the moment. You can offer advice, even if they don’t seem to take it right then. They’ve still heard it.”

TK exhaled slowly. “I hope so,” he murmured, quieter now, the edge of frustration slowly fading.

They sat together on the couch for a moment, the silence comfortable. TK leaned to rest against him, but as he tilted his head towards him for a kiss, his eyes caught those of Lou II, still clinging to his shirt. He sprang back, having momentarily forgetten the creature's quiet presence.

“Nope. No kisses with a reptile within a foot of me,” he declared, raising his hands in mock horror.

TK groaned, but it was laced with a hint of humour. “Argh, babe! You just said it’s been weeks. You have to make peace with him sometime. Come on, give him a kiss instead.”

With a smirk, TK detached Lou from his shirt and lifted him up like a prized possession, inching ever so closer.

Carlos jumped up, playfully backing away. “TK, no! Stop it!” he laughed as he dodged behind the couch.

“Come on, Carlos,” TK chided, leaping to follow him. “He just wants to bond with you.”

He shook his head, grinning. “Bonding isn’t happening,” he retorted, ducking behind the counter for some distance. “Keep him away from me!”

“Just one kiss. One tiny little kiss. He’s waiting,” TK’s voice was relentless but as light as his steps as he chased Carlos, Lou securely nestled in his arms.

The playful chaos echoed through the loft, their laughter mixing with light-hearted bickering, and he would swear even Lou’s eyes glinted in amusement. Carlos recognised how easily the mood had shifted, pushing the heaviness of their day aside.

What may have started as a chase soon became something more of a game and distraction than a real attempt to escape the little dragon. Maybe it had been a hard day, but moments like these made it all feel worthwhile.

~*~ ~*~

Carlos stirred awake to the soft chime of his alarm, the faint golden glow of morning filtering through the windows, chasing away the shadows of the room as the city outside began to stretch into another day. Quickly, he reached over to silence it before it could disrupt the fragile stillness any further.

TK lay curled beside him, the sheets tangled around his waist. His hair fell messily over his forehead, a faint furrow of sleep etched there. The warmth of the bed, and the soft weight of TK’s arm draped across his stomach, made it hard to consider leaving.

Yesterday had felt too short, slipping by faster than either of them had wanted.

Resigned to the fact that he’d be late if he left it any longer, Carlos eventually rolled over. Mindful of disturbing him, he pressed a chaste kiss to TK’s temple in goodbye. The fleeting touch was soft and tender, but as he started to ease himself out of bed, the latter still shifted, his hand stretching out as if searching for him.

“Bye, babe. Be safe.” The familiar sleepy whisper was thick with the remnants of a dream, the speaker still clinging to sleep, yet managing to draw a faint smile to Carlos’s lips.

Getting ready didn’t take long, it never did. His routine was quick and organised, having laid out everything the night before in anticipation of the early start. Dressed in simple jeans and a Henley, he double-checked his holdall for his gear packed alongside his uniform, before filling his travel mug and slipping out of the loft with practised quietness.

Carlos leaned against the cool wall of the elevator as it descended, the soft humming the only noise until the doors chimed and slid open on the ground floor. The muffled sounds of raised voices, unusual for the hour, broke the early morning silence. Frowning, he stepped out, rounding the corner into the lobby, instincts immediately alert to the unexpected commotion.

The row of mailboxes along the far wall was a wreck, several doors on one half hung open, bent or pried off entirely. Envelopes were shoved haphazardly into the gaps, with a few crumpled in a careless pile on the floor.

Carlos crossed the space briskly, taking in the damage. A small crowd of neighbouring residents stood nearby, their murmurs a mix of confusion and frustration.

“Mr Reyes! You're here. Thank goodness.” Mrs. Delgado, the property manager, was quick to spot him, relief crossing her face. His profession wasn’t exactly a secret, even if it was rare for him to come or go in uniform. “I was just about to call the police, but honestly, I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

“Who even does this?” one neighbour snapped, waving a handful of her own letters. “Oh yes, I’m sure my car insurance was absolutely fascinating. Totally worth something!”

Another shook his head, visibly angry. “Speak for yourself. I have cash in there. That’s this month’s pathetic excuse of child support. It’s not like she’d cough up anymore if it was stolen.”

The man’s envelope was perched precariously in his mailbox, unsealed, with several bills clearly visible inside. Carlos paused, scanning with a critical eye. This was sloppy work. Not a professional job, but someone desperate or careless. Yet, oddly, not desperate enough to take free cash.

“You found that like that?” He asked, double-checking. “Nothing taken?”

“Yeah, right in plain sight,” the man replied with a bitter scoff. “Blind as a bat, I’d say.”

Carlos glanced toward his own box, hanging open like many others. The sight left a sour taste in his mouth, but he could see the familiar white envelopes of bank statements and the splash of colour from the usual junk mail. He didn’t want to risk touching it, but from what he could see, it still held its contents.

He turned to Mrs. Delgado. “You’ve got cameras covering this area, right?" He already knew the answer, he’d made sure to check the building's entire security setup before committing to the loft in the first place.

She nodded quickly, flustered but eager to help. “Oh yes, we do. There’s one for the main door that also catches the mailboxes. I take it you want a look?”

Not even waiting for a response, she motioned for him to follow her toward a door tucked behind the leasing office counter, the continuing complaints from the neighbours fading into the background. Inside, the small room was cramped and cluttered, a desk buried under stacks of loose papers and mismatched files. A flickering old monitor sat in the corner, displaying grainy live feeds of the building’s common areas.

Mrs. Delgado gestured for him to slide into the chair, swiping a sticky note stuck to the keyboard. “I’m afraid I won’t be much help with the software, though. My grandsons set it up years ago.”

Carlos glanced at the screen, already scanning the system. The software wasn’t anything he was used to, but the controls were self-explanatory enough. He focused his sharp eyes on the feed as the footage rewound. The morning's scenes sped past in reverse - Mrs. Delgado arriving, neighbours discovering the mess on their way to work, and then the lobby sitting empty apart from the chaos of the mail area. Then, just after 3 a.m., a figure appeared, moving backwards on the screen from the mailboxes to the front door.

He jumped to pause the playback and let it roll forward in real time. A young man in a hoodie glided inside, catching the door just before it latched behind the last returning resident.

His behaviour seemed almost skittish, head low and hands shoved deep into his pockets, heading directly for the mail area. He moved quickly, but at one point, he suddenly stopped and glanced behind him, as though checking for witnesses.

In that brief moment, his face emerged from the shadow of his hood, caught in the faint glow of the hallway light. Carlos froze the frame, leaning in to scrutinise the image. The features were frustratingly blurred, a combination of the hoodie’s shadow and the low resolution of the camera, but there was just enough to note a few details: early twenties and light skin.

“Anything?” Mrs. Delgado asked from behind him, her voice tinged with concern.

“Not much, but it’s something,” Carlos replied, noting the timestamp. “I’ll call a colleague to meet me here. We’ll make a copy of this and file a report. After that, it’ll likely be transferred to USPIS.”

Mrs. Delgado furrowed her brow. “US-what?”

“Postal Inspection Service," Carlos clarified, slightly annoyed. "Unfortunately, mail tampering falls under their jurisdiction."

"Fair enough." She sighed, her shoulders relaxing slightly, though her expression still held a trace of worry. “Thank you, Mr. Reyes. Sorry, Officer.”

"Not quite in my uniform yet," Carlos quipped lightly, gesturing toward his casual clothes. "I’ll go change now and make that call."

He rose from the chair, grabbing his holdall again and pulling out his phone.

“Oh, in the meantime, you might want to ask the tenants to make a list of anything important they were expecting,” he added. “Just in case something’s missing.”

Mrs. Delgado nodded again, already reaching for a massive folder on the side as Carlos left the tiny room.

Glancing at the time, Carlos cursed under his breath. He was definitely running late. Opting for a text instead of a call in case she was still tied up in roll-call, he shot Mitchell a quick message.

Carlos: Hey, up for the first call of the day to be at mine? Could use the cruiser and backup.

Her response, however, arrived almost immediately.

Lexi : On my way. Trouble?

Lexi: If this is just an excuse to avoid being marked late, you're buying lunch.

Lexi: For a week.

Grinning at the light teasing, he typed out a short reply to put her at ease as he made his way back upstairs to change.

~*~TARLOS~*~ ~*~TARLOS~*~

TK P.O.V

TK stirred at the sound of the door opening, the muffled click of the lock sending a flicker of unease through the haze of sleep. His head lifted slightly from the pillow, blinking against the soft light spilling into the room, but the alarm melted the moment Carlos appeared in the doorway, his familiar silhouette unmistakable.

“Babe?” TK mumbled, blearily pushing himself up on one elbow, glancing at the clock. “I thought you left already. You’re late.”

“Work’s apparently coming to me,” Carlos replied. He placed his bag on the end of the bed, withdrawing uniform bottoms and his utility belt. “Someone broke into the mailboxes downstairs, forced them open.”

“What?” TK sat up fully, the residual grogginess fading in a rush. “Did they get ours?”

Carlos nodded grimly, tugging his crisp shirt into place and reaching for the boots he'd only just removed. He sat on the edge of the bed, methodically re-tying them.

“Yeah. Same as pretty much half of them. Lexi’s coming with the cruiser, but it looks like nothing was taken so far.” He straightened, meeting his gaze briefly. “Just... keep the door locked when you’re here today, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I will,” TK promised, leaning back against the headboard. He still hadn’t quite processed the situation, but it wasn’t hard to pick up on his fiancé's uneasy implications.

Carlos fixed his collar in the mirror and reached for his badge, pressing a soft kiss to TK’s forehead, brushing his fingers lightly through TK’s bed hair. TK huffed a small breath at the familiar action but didn’t resist, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

Carlos’s phone buzzed on the bed, breaking the brief quiet as he picked up his bag. He glanced at the screen, his features softening. “That’s Lexi. I’ll see you later, baby.”

TK nodded, a hint of disappointment curling in his chest. “Be careful.”

His eyes lingered on Carlos as he made his way out, somehow always moving with that calm sense of purpose, but as the door slid shut behind him and a strange silence descended on the room, TK felt the shift. The lingering warmth of the kiss on his forehead was no match for the cold emptiness gnawing in his chest.

He was wide awake now. He might as well get up.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, reaching for his phone to unplug it before heading to the kitchen. Pausing by the door, he slid the extra bolt across. It was a small act, more for peace of mind than necessity, but it didn’t quite dispel the uneasy feeling creeping in.

Perching on the stool by the counter, he poured a mug of coffee from the sitting machine, too tired to make a fresh batch. Letting the residual warmth of the liquid seep through the cup into his hands, he switched on the screen, his eyes locking onto a message timestamped from the beginning of the night.

Cooper: Found Bree. She’s safe.

TK frowned, confused, typing out a quick reply.

TK: Safe how?

The reply didn’t come for a while. TK scrolled aimlessly through his phone, killing time and letting the caffeine clear the fog from his mind. Most of it was the usual noise: group chat pings confirming plans for later that night, and Instagram posts he barely glanced at, except for pausing on Marjan’s latest Firefox upload.

Just as he was about to give up, his screen lit up with a fresh notification.

Cooper: Best if you don’t know.

TK frowned, his thumb hesitated only a moment before hitting Call.

“Cooper?” TK started as soon as the line connected. “What’s going on?”

"Nothing, it’s sorted." Cooper’s response was clipped, only setting TK further on edge.

"How? Yesterday, all you said was that you were working on something."

His gut twisted, knowing something was off.

What happened to making things worse?

"I know. It was more complicated than that," Cooper admitted, his words measured. "But it's not your mess. I shouldn’t have dragged you into this in the first place."

“I didn’t mind helping.” The words came out sharp, laced with defensiveness and accusation. “Have you even been home since Dallas? You sound exhausted.”

The silence on the other end lingered, long enough for TK to have his answer.

“I’m good, man. Don’t worry about me.”

“Cooper, you’re not good,” TK countered, gripping the phone tighter. “I can hear it. Something’s going on, and I’m not gonna pretend I don’t notice.”

“Forget it, TK,” Cooper snapped. The harshness of the response hit him like a punch to the gut and he nearly pulled the phone away from his ear. “Sorry, man. Just... stay out of it, please.”

TK heard the regret and resignation in his tone, but still, he set his jaw, frustration simmering. If Cooper was going to shut him out, he wasn’t going to keep pushing.

“Yeah. Fine.” TK’s reply was flat, his finger swiping the end button with a force that matched the anger boiling over inside him.

TK leaned into the cool surface of the counter, feeling the chill seep through his sleep shirt. The phone was still clutched in his hand, but his mind was far from the screen in front of him.

Cooper had been a steadfast presence last year. His mother's death might have immediately sent him sprinting back to old habits, but even after his guilt-ridden confessions on a turbulent plane ride, the loss was still a gaping wound. The temptation to numb it was a quiet battle he fought every day. Sadie's forced relapse so soon after had been the final straw. But maybe it was also a blessing in disguise,a pretty shitty disguise, but an excuse to seek help before his own facade completely crumbled in a far more catastrophic manner.

Cooper had been there to pull him out of his deepest spirals of grief, preventing him from dragging Carlos into that suffocating darkness with him.

That kind of support had felt like a lifeline. Now, however, it seemed like the tables had turned. The support he desperately wanted to reciprocate was not welcome.

In one instant, the loft became like a confining cage, air thick and oppressive. With a determined sigh, TK pushed himself off the counter and headed to his bedroom to get dressed - decision made.

He needed to get out.

~*~TARLOS~*~ ~*~TARLOS~*~

Carlos P.O.V:

Stepping into the precinct, the hum of the station greeted them as they headed for their respective desks. Lexi tossed a file onto her desk, the thud of it lost amidst the mountain of papers already scattered across the surface, before switching on her computer monitor.

“You know, if I didn’t love this job so much,” she began, sighing, “I’d say it’s the paperwork that’s going to kill me. This is ridiculous.”

“What this?” Carlos filed his weapon into his drawer and sat at his own desk opposite hers, equally covered with the same number of files- but looking noticeably fewer due to the neatly stacked piles. “This is nothing."

“Sometimes I forget just how much your obsession with organisation annoys me,” Lexi scoffed, but then grinned. “You’d just rather be here than out on calls after earlier.”

Carlos groaned. “Just when I thought you might have forgotten.”

“It wasn’t even three hours ago, Reyes. I didn’t pass the academy with a bad memory.” She laughed. “I think you’re just mad because you let them get the best of you.”

“You try telling me one sign from that house, Mitchell, that suggested they had pets. They bolted out of nowhere!”

“Just admit it. You were this close to getting taken down by house cats.” She pinched her finger and thumb apart by an inch. “You should’ve seen the way you tried to dart out of the way. You looked like you were avoiding a bomb instead of two furballs.”

Carlos raised his hands in mock defence. “One gave me a side-eye like it knew exactly what it had done. I’m pretty sure it gave more attitude with one look than most of our suspects did today.”

Lexi snorted. “You're really gonna complain about a cat after everything I've heard from you in the past? Mr. 'I want a pet I can pet'? Should I tell your fiancé that cats are also off the list for the future?”

“You wouldn’t. You’re asking for trouble.” Carlos narrowed his eyes. “One bearded dragon is enough for now. Anyway, given a chance he'd probably end up smuggling a dog home over a cat.”

“Maybe.” Lexi raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile tugging at her lips.

The brief, easy banter was more than just a moment of fun, Carlos knew, deep down, that they’re partnership had come a long way since their rocky start.

He still remembered it clearly: the fear in the man’s eyes, breaking protocol to let him go with the money he’d just stolen, the way Lexi hadn’t backed him up, ready to throw all responsibility on him. It had been the look she’d given him, the doubt in her eyes. The way she’d held back and hadn’t trusted him in that moment. He didn’t entirely blame her, after all, they’d only been in the field together a short time then, and their partnership hadn’t yet had time to solidify.

But he’d been right. His instincts may have saved their lives, and it was in that moment, through several apologies after he came back from suspension, that things had shifted. There was a real sense of trust now, a real understanding.

Refocusing on his work, Carlos pulled the first file from his stack and began separating the statements from the forms he needed to fill in. The precinct was quieter than usual for this hour, which was rare but not unwelcome. Not that he’d risk saying that aloud. He wasn’t entirely superstitious, but he definitely didn’t want to give Mitchell another opportunity to tease him, and he did want to leave on time today.

Carlos glanced up at the clock on the wall. One hour left. If he could get through at least half of the pile, he could leave the rest for the next shift and go home to TK. He’d messaged something about being at his dad’s earlier, but he’d be getting home soon to prepare, and he wanted some time together before their friends arrived for the hang.

“Hey, Reyes, your apartment number’s 304, right?”

Carlos frowned, confused. Across from him, Lexi was staring at something on her computer, her brow furrowed. She didn’t look up as she clicked a few more buttons.

“Yeah, why?”

Lexi leaned forward, the glow from her monitor illuminating her face. "That mail theft footage from this morning? I had the technicians send me a cleaned copy, as well as to UPSIS, on a hunch."

Gut-twisting at the memory of the incident this morning, Carlos stood and rounded the desk. “What hunch?”

His partner rewound the footage with a single click. “You said it looked like the guy was searching for something specific, right?”

“Yeah,” Carlos replied, the knot in his stomach tightening. Something hadn’t sat right about it, but he hadn’t been able to put his finger on it all day.

“Well, I think I know what...watch,” Lexi said, and the video started to play.

Carlos squinted at the screen. It was certainly sharper than the footage he’d seen earlier, but it was also much further into the playback.

Most of the mailboxes were already hanging open when the man - no, a boy - approached the next one, marked 304. He straightened, unsure what he was meant to be watching. He already knew their slot had been part of the mess, but instead of rifling through all the contents, the boy paused at the first envelope. With clear intent, he pulled out a phone, snapped a picture of the address, slid the envelope back inside, and left.

A cold rush hit him, flooding his chest as the reality of what he’d just seen sank in.

"That was deliberate," Lexi remarked, serious. "Someone was after your address."

Carlos swallowed, his throat dry. This was no longer a random occurrence. They had been looking for something specific, and they had found it. Found them.

Without a word, he moved, snatching his phone from his desk, grip tightening on the device as he dialled TK’s number. His hand shook slightly, enough to betray the rising unease in his chest at each unanswered beep as he pressed the phone to his ear. “Come on, TK,” he muttered, each second it didn't connect dragging painfully.

When it finally did connect, the relief was short-lived. “TK, I...”

“-the phone. Now.”

The voice was sharp, distant, and unmistakably not TK’s. Carlos’s heart plunged, pulse quickening as each beat amplified the fear clawing its way into his chest.

“TK?!”

“What do you want with us?”

The response might have been TK’s, but the words weren’t meant for him. TK was calm and measured, too measured, almost, but Carlos could hear the undercurrent of fear, the tightness that bled through every syllable.

“He said drop it. Yours too.” A second voice, echoed, quieter but somehow colder than the first. "And lose the ‘pod."

There was a muffled clatter - small, but it’s significance reverberated loudly.

“Do it, Cooper.”

A second clatter echoed, then with a final, hollow thud, the line went dead.

~*~TARLOS~*~

TK P.O.V

The sky was beginning to fade into a deeper shade of blue as TK made his way down the sidewalk, the glow from the windows of the neighbouring building casting long, soft shadows across the pavement. He'd delayed going home all day, but Carlos’s shift would be over soon, and there was still plenty to do before their friends arrived later.

The Uber had dropped him off on the wrong corner, but he hadn’t bothered to argue. The crisp air felt good, a welcome distraction to join the low hum of music in one ear.

He’d spent the better part of the day trying to clear his head, glad that C-Shift had let him use the -at least free-firehouse gym, but the gruelling workout hadn't done the trick. Neither had the time spent at his dad's, helping him set up the second guest room for Uncle Robert's arrival at the end of the week.

His mind just wouldn’t let go of the fight. At first, his anger wouldn't fade, but then doubt crept in. Cooper had shut him out, and it stung, but maybe it wasn’t personal. Cooper had a protective instinct over everyone in the program, and TK might have only wanted to help, but maybe somewhere along the way, he'd crossed an unseen line. Now he wasn’t sure if his anger had been justified or if it had just been a poor reaction.

As his building came into view, TK’s steps slowed, and he tapped his AirPod to pause his music. Recognizing the car parked in front, he spotted Cooper sat inside, posture slumped, a faraway look in his eyes as he twirled his phone between his fingers.

TK sighed. Unsure or not, he wasn’t about to walk away from this.

He reached for the passenger-side door, opening it with a soft creak. The sound made Cooper jump, his body stiffening in surprise. When he saw who it was, his expression shifted from shock to something softer, but there was still a level of uncertainty.

"Sorry," TK started, sliding into the empty seat and pulling the door back ajar, guilt churning again at scaring him.

“Don't sweat it,” Cooper said. “I just wasn’t sure whether to go up.”

TK gave him a pointed look, a wry smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, I see that.”

“Guess it didn't matter if you weren’t home anyway.” There was a long pause, Cooper avoiding TK’s gaze as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I... was thinking about earlier, and I...”

“Don’t,” TK interrupted. He let out a breath, trying to settle the churn of guilt. “I overstepped. I was being a little bitch.”

“No, don’t turn it on you,” Cooper said, his eyes softening as he met TK’s gaze. “I was out of line. I shouldn’t have snapped like that. I’m the one who dragged you into this. It’s only natural you’d want to see it through.”

“Still,” TK said, his shoulders relaxing slightly, realizing that Cooper, too, wanted to apologize. “I shouldn’t have pushed. Or hung up on you. She’s your sponsee. Trust and anonymity, right? She trusts you. If you say she’s safe, I trust that.”

The words felt heavier now, like a promise. TK opened the door wider again, his invitation simple but sincere. “Come on up. Carlos is on shift for another hour, but I’ve got about fourteen different snacks to set out before he tries to do it all himself. We can talk inside.”

Cooper didn’t move at first. He hesitated, looking like he was wrestling with something, but after a long moment, he gave a slow nod and followed TK into the building.

The police that were there when TK left that morning were gone, caution tape now draped over the mailboxes in a half-hearted reminder of what had happened. Cooper shot him a questioning look as they passed, but TK only shrugged, brushing it off as best he could. He didn’t have any information to explain other than the little Carlos had shared that morning.

As the doors slid open to their floor, his phone buzzed silently in his pocket, the chime of his ringtone instead sounding in his ear. Pulling his phone from his pocket, Carlos’s name lit up on the screen, a warm smile tugging at his lips, but as his thumb inched toward the screen to answer, something caught his eye - movement, quick, large, and far too deliberate, from the corner of his vision, and his hand stilled.

He opened his mouth to warn Cooper, but the shout died in his throat as the sharp, unmistakable click of a gun echoed behind him. TK froze. The cold press of the barrel against his side hit him like a wave, familiar yet no less terrifying.

TK didn’t dare turn, but he didn’t need to. Beside him, Cooper went rigid, his face paling as the figure he’d spotted only seconds ago closed in behind him, gun raised, the muzzle pressed firmly into Cooper’s ribs, the threat unmistakably identical to his own. Equally frozen, TK watched as Cooper’s shoulders jerked in a shallow, instinctive flinch, his gaze locked on something, someone, behind him.

His eyes couldn’t see the threat behind him, but they had no trouble locking onto the man behind Cooper. He was older, his face weathered with a permanent scowl, yet his expression remained controlled, blank, as if this was routine - like he’d done it a hundred times before.

TK’s mind raced. Two men, armed, both with the element of surprise, standing just outside his own home. This was planned, no doubt. But perhaps it was the loft itself, combined with the silent phone in his hand constrasting the continuous ringing in his ear that only he could hear, that offered their only lifeline - Carlos.

It was still a gamble.

Keeping his movements deliberate, he raised both hands slowly, one palm open in surrender, the other holding his phone as loosely as possible, but hidden by the device, his fingers twitched, brushing against the AirPod.

Tapping twice, he connected the call.

“TK, I-” Carlos’s voice had barely begun before he was cut off.

“Drop the phone.” The command was clipped, the man’s breath cold against his ear. “Now.”

“TK?!” He hated the distress in his fiancé's plea.

“What do you want from us?” TK asked thinly, trying to buy at least a second before the situation inevitably spiralled out of control, praying Carlos would catch even a fragment of what was happening.

“He said drop it. Yours too.” The second man’s voice snapped, the sharp barrel of his gun jabbing painfully further into Cooper’s side, in a small but telling motion. As the man’s glare shifted towards him, TK watched his eyes narrow, locking onto his ear. “And lose the ‘pod.”

The knot in TK’s chest tightened. He faltered for half a beat, hoping the fire in his glare was enough to convey the resentment bubbling in his chest at Cooper’s flinch, but resigned, he lowered his hand slowly, letting it slip from his fingers. The AirPod followed suit, dropping with the same finality.

Cooper, stiff and slow, withdrew his own from his pocket, his face an unreadable storm of emotions.

"Do it, Cooper," the directive seemed almost redundant to anyone else, aimed solely at his phone rather than the man himself, who complied, his phone joining his on the floor.

The men didn’t waste time. A foot from behind him scattered the devices like they meant nothing, the scrape of his boot grinding over TK’s phone with a sickening crunch. He could only hope Carlos had heard enough. The other, with a single-handed efficiency that made TK’s stomach twist, pressed a button on his own phone.

“Inside.”

TK’s fingers fumbled around the keys, struggling to fit them into the lock. His first attempt missed the keyhole entirely, but a shaky breath later, he tried again. This time, the lock clicked open, the door sliding along its metal tracks with a sound far too loud in the quiet.

The loft stood as he’d left it that morning, still, warm, and familiar, yet now, it felt alien and invaded. Again.

TK didn’t really have time to process the shift before he was shoved roughly through the threshold. He considered fighting back for all of two seconds, but they were already at a disadvantage, and he hoped he could just give them what they wanted and get them to leave.

“Move it.” The man snapped, his grip tightening as he pushed TK further into his own home.

Behind him, Cooper was shoved in afterwards, the force sending him stumbling. He caught himself on the table behind the couch before he fell, but TK still reached to steady him instinctively, sharing a fleeting glance. His expression was taut, and TK only wished he could communicate that Carlos at least knew, reassuring him that help was hopefully coming, but he couldn’t risk it.

The two men followed them in, directing them to the space between the couch and the table.

“Turn around.”

“What do you want?” TK repeated, but complied, his hands clenching into fists, the only edge of defiance.

“We’re not here for that,” the one closest to him retorted. “You tell him what he wants to know, and no one has to get hurt.”

“Tell who?”

The farther this got, the more apparent it became to TK that they were probably not getting out of this unscathed. Reinforcements could arrive any minute; they just needed to hold their ground.

The answer came, not from them, but from a new shadow falling across the doorway.

“I apologise for the intrusion.”

The new figure stepped inside leisurely, polished shoes clicking softly against the floor. His eyes surveyed the room as if assessing a piece of art. Behind him was another, who hung back a few steps, sliding the door shut behind them with careful precision.

TK s gaze darted between the two newcomers, taking a second to catalogue the details. They were both weaponless, the older man’s tailored suit spoke of power and precision. Yet, there was a clear resemblance between them, seen in their shared jawline and eyes, though the younger man noticeably lacked the elder’s confidence.

“I do prefer to keep my business outside of personal spaces.” The man’s tone was polite but cutting. “But when people evade me, I find myself taking drastic measures.”

His demeanour was almost casual, as if this was some kind of business meeting, but his focus was locked on Cooper, as the men from earlier simply took up positions again behind them.

“Now, you’ve been rather difficult to get alone somewhere private, and I can’t say I appreciate being made to wait. It’s… inefficient.”

Cooper’s jaw tightened, and TK saw how carefully he controlled his breathing, each inhale measured. His eyes flicked to TK briefly, and TK read the sudden understanding in them.

“Now, I’m only interested in one thing,” he continued. “My niece has been rather… slippery as of late. Forgotten her place. So, I had to see why.”

TK’s stomach twisted as the pieces fell into place. Bree. This was about her. If this was her family, then she was running from something far worse than he would have guessed. Cooper’s cryptic behaviour suddenly made sense.

“Whatever you think,” Cooper interjected sharply, jerking his head toward TK. “This has nothing to do with him.”

The man raised an eyebrow. “Nothing to do with him?”

He gestured to the younger one, who stepped forward, spilling the contents of an envelope in front of them. Photographs scattered across the floor, Bree’s face stared back from several of them, guarded. Cooper featured prominently, but it was the handful taken outside the fire station, snaps of Bree climbing out of her Uber with him, that made TK’s stomach drop.

“Loyalty is admirable but futile,” he added, crouching to pick up one of the photos. “She certainly seemed comfortable involving him the other night.”

“She asked for help with her arm. She didn’t say anything” TK started, bending the truth just enough, but a raised arm just cut him off.

“Now, I hope to keep this quiet and civil. Where is she?”

TK caught Cooper’s glance once more, holding a flicker of helplessness, but TK subtly shook his head. If this was Bree’s chance to get away, he wouldn’t say anything, even if he did know.

Cooper’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I don’t know.”

The man’s expression darkened. “Wrong answer.”

A sharp nod was all it took. One of the men behind TK moved, his fist crashing into TK’s side. Pain radiated through his ribs as he hit the floor, gasping. Another strike of boot landed on his back, sending shockwaves through his body.

“Stop!” Cooper shouted, desperate. From the floor TK could just see him struggling against the other man holding him, trying to break free, but the grip held firm. “Leave him alone. He doesn’t know anything.”

TK straightened his spine, his head spinning from the blows. Gritting his teeth in both anger and pain, he forced himself to roll over, his mind already searching for an opening to fight back because he knew he would now. Before, he was prepared to stand down and wait for Carlos, but he’s never been one to shy away from defending himself.

Bracing himself, in one swift motion, he twisted, managing to free one elbow and struck out, a sharp jab landing just below the man's ribs, drawing a grunt of surprise. The retaliation came fast and brutal, but TK didn’t stop, swinging a desperate right hook at the man closing in. The impact was far from perfect, but it caught him off guard, sending him stumbling back with a curse.

As they fought, TK could see the loss of control in their movements - they weren’t just trying to subdue him anymore for their boss; they were angry, their strikes becoming wilder, less calculated. TK ducked under another swing, but the man recovered quickly, seizing his wrist. Twisting to break free, a single misstep shifted the momentum. His foot caught on the edge of the dining room rug, and TK was yanked off balance. Their combined weight crashed into the wall and furniture behind them with a resounding thud.

The impact toppled Lou’s terrarium with a sickening crash, glass shattering and scattering across the floor.

“Lou!” TK gasped, panic cutting through the pain, scrambling over in the wreckage. He hadn’t realised they were so close. His arms felt like they were made of jelly from the impact, but as his knees hit the shards, slicing through his jeans, he ignored the blood trickling down his leg, as he searched frantically.

“I said quietly! Idiot!” the man barked, tinged with annoyance. “Get him up.”

A hand grabbed him, yanking him upright away from the remains of Lou’s home, the little reptile nowhere in sight. His shoulder wrenched painfully, and his arm twisted behind him.

“I’m a reasonable man, but my patience has limits.”

“I told you he wasn’t part of this!” Cooper shouted.

“You brought him into this,” the suited man said coldly. “Now, you’re making this more difficult than it needs to be. I’m not going to kill my niece, your friend on the other hand…”

Agony lanced through him as his arm was wrenched down violently, something popping out of place with a sickening sensation that made him gasp, his vision swimming.

“Cooper, don’t.” His breath came in ragged gasps as he tried to speak, but Carlos wouldn’t be much longer. It had surely been nearly 10 minutes since the line disconnected. He could hold out.

Except Cooper didn’t know that.

“I’ll take you to her.” Cooper broke. “Just… stop. Leave him here.”

“Glad you've seen sense.” Turning to his son, the man restraining Cooper placed their weapon in his outstretched palm, which he held out expectantly. “But my son will stay here, in case you decide to double-cross me.”

The younger man stiffened, reluctantly taking the weapon offered. “Father-”

“Do your job. If he so much he so much as twitches the wrong way, shoot him.” He snapped, gesturing to TK. “And stand up straight. You look pathetic.”

“Yes, sir.”

Released back onto the jagged glass, TK gasped, frozen, as the two men grabbed Cooper by the arms, pulling him toward the door. Their eyes met, Cooper's raw and filled with unspoken apologies, as he was forcibly guided out of the loft.

~*~TARLOS~*~ ~*~TARLOS~*~

Carlos P.O.V:

Carlos’s thumb jabbed at his phone again, redialling. He’d already tried twice since the line cut, but the call wasn’t even ringing before dropping straight to voicemail, TK’s voice on the recording a cruel taunt.

He’d started moving after the first, holstering his weapon from his drawer in one swift, practised motion without pausing.

TK wasn’t answering because he couldn’t.

“Still nothing?” Lexi asked, racing to fall in step behind him as he strode through the precinct.

“Nothing,” he said tersely, heading for their cruiser in the lot. “The call-it didn’t just drop. Someone ended it.”

She nodded without hesitation, her hand already reaching for the radio on her shoulder. “Dispatch, this is 363-H-20, possible -”

Carlos didn’t wait for her to finish, sliding into the driver’s seat and slamming the door shut. Her words, relaying their home address, were drowned out as the engine roared to life, the cruiser ready to move before she’d rounded the front and climbed in beside him.

“We’re closest,” Lexi said, settling into her seat and buckling in. “But McCoy and Gaines aren’t far.”

Carlos’s hands tightened on the steering wheel, his knuckles white as the cruiser sped toward the loft, the siren blaring loudly while the lights cast a harsh rhythm against the darkened streets.

There was no guarantee they were heading to the right place. TK could have been anywhere when he’d answered the call, but Carlos couldn’t shake the instinct screaming this was the safest bet. Whoever had broken in-if that’s what this was-had been after their address specifically.

His gut had found TK before.

Beside him, Lexi shifted as the car lurched forward around a tight corner without slowing, steadying herself with a hand on the dashboard, glancing sideways at him.

“You’ve got that look, Reyes,” she said, cutting through the silence. “I might have been on assignment when you got in trouble the other month, but I saw TK in the precinct before I knew what was happening. He had the same look, like nothing would stop him.”

“I’m not staying back,” Carlos returned, his tone uncompromising.

“I didn’t ask you to,” she replied, meeting his determination with calm. “But I need your head clear, and I need you to communicate. We’re no good to him if we go in blind.”

Her words hit their mark. Carlos forced himself to take a breath. She was right He needed to treat this like any other call. His mind replayed the brief moment the line had been connected.

Cooper. The name had been deliberate, weighted in a way Carlos knew was meant for him. He didn’t know why Cooper had been at the loft; he’d only been there a handful of times last year. But whether TK had already been having a bad day or not before this no longer mattered in this moment.

What was important was that TK had been letting him know he wasn’t alone. That he wasn’t the only one in trouble.

“Two voices, minimum,” Carlos shared “and he said…TK said us. His friend was with him.”

He swallowed hard, the words catching in his throat, as Lexi simply nodded supportively, updating dispatch. His focus returned to the road ahead, a familiar route, but one he wished were shorter now more than ever.

Approaching the last intersection before the loft, Carlos cut the siren, hoping to keep some advantage. His eyes locked onto the disturbing scene as they rolled up,a black sedan idled at the curb in front of the entrance, its back door wide open. His breath caught as he recognised Cooper being shoved forward into the vehicle.

Despite his hands being unrestrained, his collar was clenched forcibly in the grip of one of the three men, his movements stiff and clearly unwilling. The second man was armed, his weapon hanging loosely at his side - not poised, but a threat, nonetheless. Carlos didn’t wait, throwing the cruiser door open, the reinforced metal serving as a makeshift shield between them., his own weapon already unholstered, steady despite the gnawing fear that TK might already be inside that vehicle.

Lexi mirrored his urgency, her voice sliced through the tense air, amplified and sharp through the loudspeaker. “This is APD! Surrender your weapons and step back from the vehicle!”

The men froze, their heads snapping toward them. The street fell silent, save for the growing wail of another patrol car arriving from the opposite direction. It screeched to a halt, blocking off any chance of escape as McCoy and Gaines swiftly exited, taking similar positions.

Two twitched nervously, exchanging defiant glances. The third wore an unreadable expression, as though unimpressed by the commotion. Noticeably in charge, with a sharp click, the weapon was dropped to the asphalt, both hands slowly raising in unison, as if choreographed.

“On the ground!”

The men complied without protest, lowering themselves to their knees. Carlos’s gut churned again. something wasn’t right. They were controlled, too controlled, for the reluctance etched on their faces, while the third remained, not disinterested, but indifferent, unphased by the situation. It set every instinct on edge, but with their weapons still trained as they surrounded each figure, Carlos pushed the feeling aside, trusting his colleagues to maintain control. As he moved past them, his focus was locked on the open back door of the sedan.

“TK!”

A single shape stirred in the footwell - Cooper - struggling to get up out of the cramped space. Relief flickered across the later features as he recognized the cop before him. “Carlos!”

“Are you hurt?” he asked quickly, placing a hand on Cooper’s shoulder to stop him from moving, searching Cooper for any non-apparent injuries. His thoughts, however, still pounded at the absence of anyone else. “Where’s TK?”

“He’s upstairs. They left one with him.” Cooper replied, shaking him off and perching on the edge of the backseat. “I’m fine. Go.”

A silent exchange passed between them, the unspoken understanding unmistakable.

“Stay here.” Carlos sprinted toward the building, each step heavier than the last. Behind him, Lexi’s shout of alarm sliced through the air.

He knew she couldn’t follow until more units arrived.

It didn’t matter.

The door of the loft was ajar when Carlos reached it, his heart thudding with a mix of adrenaline and dread. He’d taken the stairs, something he’d probably done only twice since moving in, but his mind was racing with worst-case scenarios - too much at stake to risk the elevator.

Through the sliver of the door, he caught sight of TK, his stomach sinking at the sight of blood. His jeans were stained with dark patches, and his lip was split, the wound raw - far worse than the one from when they first met, back when TK had been sitting cuffed and bruised at his station desk after a bar fight that had somehow brought them closer.

Behind him, shards of glass littered the floor, jagged pieces scattered among splintered wood and several photographs he couldn’t depict from his distance. For a split second, Carlos’s breath caught, recognising the cause. If anything had happened to Lou, it would devastate TK far more than any beating.

Pacing behind him was a figure he recognised instantly from the security footage. His frame was tense, the gun hanging loosely from one hand. Carlos’s skin prickled - it wasn’t raised, but every part of the man’s posture suggested it could be in a heartbeat.

Cringing at the faint creak, he nudged the door further open, just enough to slip inside. He mentally noted to oil it, if they were going to be unfortunate enough for things like this to keep happening to them.

"Police. Drop the weapon.”

“Stay back!” The man flinched, his grip on the gun shifting as he yanked TK up, his free arm pressing him back against him as if using him as a shield. TK winced at the pressure, his body stiffening, but there was something else in his look: a refusal to show fear, replaced by apologetic resignation that seemed to say more than words ever could.

“I’m fine,” TK said, forcing a faint smile. “They took Coop.”

He didn’t believe TK for a second. The way he cradled his shoulder and winced with every movement made it clear he was anything but fine.

Carlos scanned the loft in a quick, deliberate sweep, searching for any surprises, but his weapon lingered, trained forward, but tilted left slightly in some subconscious refusal to aim it directly at TK.

“He’s safe.” He returned, glad to offer at least a sliver of reassurance. TK’s shoulders dropped a fraction, as much as possible in the limits of the hold trapping him. Carlos tracked it all but kept his focus sharp, honing back in on the boy. “Your friends are custody downstairs. It’s over. Let him go.”

“No.” The gun wavered again, movements erratic but not aggressive. It carried the restless energy of not someone cornered, but indecisive. “I can’t. You don’t understand. He’s got money. Connections. He’ll get out and he knows it. He won’t care.”

TK turned his head just enough to relieve the pressure on his neck, shifting to face him with what little control he had. "You’ve got the choice now, not your father. Don’t let him decide your life." He argued. "You weren’t the one to hurt me. You were just looking for your cousin. It’s not too late to step back."

Carlos stayed quiet in the moment, trusting that TK knew more of what was going on here, more about the situation than he had yet to grasp. It wasn’t just about the immediate danger anymore. There was room to talk, to try and break down walls.

“I don’t care about Bree! I...” He cut himself off, jaw snapping shut. “I’ve protected her for years. And she just left. She trusted you without a second thought.”

The man shook TK almost as emphasis, but Carlos’s mind had already started connecting the dots, perhaps a little too late. TK had mentioned a favour for Cooper yesterday, but at the time, he’d been more focused on helping TK wrestle with his guilt and sense of failure than on the details of what had been shared. Now it was clear - this was about the woman they had been helping.

Instead of a response, however, Carlos caught an almost imperceptible change in TK’s posture as the silence lingered. For a brief moment, TK seemed distracted, as though something was pulling his focus. Carlos didn’t know what it was, but it was enough to make him pause.

Lowering his aim, Carlos took over, building on what TK had started. "Hey, what can I call you?"

The hesitation was apparent, before the answer came, muttered. “Rhett.”

“Rhett,” Carlos repeated, establishing a connection. "Even if he posts bail quickly, it won’t be until tomorrow. He doesn't have to know what happened here."

"He will. You think Bree’s the only one who’s ever wanted to leave?” Rhett’s voice cracked with bitterness. “I tried once. Look where that’s got me. Father doesn’t inspire loyalty; he ensures it. The things he makes you do. I'm not going down for him.”

The gun was shaking in Rhett's hand. Carlos tracked its every movement, its aim flitting back and forth between him and TK. His fingers wrapped around his own, tense but unwilling to shoot unless absolutely necessary.

Not in their home. Not in front of TK. This was a kid, his entire life a tangle of manipulation and abuse that had finally boiled over.

Except that same quality made him dangerous. Unpredictable. Carlos knew, in reality, that if it came down to it, to saving either TK or himself, he would. Yet, with Rhett's arm locked around TK’s neck, using him as a line of defence, the nagging doubt that he might hit TK was too strong. The risk was too great, and the thought of pulling the trigger left him nauseous.

That same calculated scrutiny didn’t miss the odd discomfort in TK’s posture. He was hunched and twisted, leaning forward as though he were pressing into the hold around his throat instead of pulling back from it. Confused, Carlos’s mind veered to TK’s injured shoulder, but a deep-seated instinct, from years of recognising TK's pain, told him this was something else entirely.

He kept his focus on Rhett, trying to keep him preoccupied. “You won’t. Not if you let us help you, Rhett. This is your chance to expose him.”

Any response, however, was cut off. Carlos watched as Rhett jolted, hand jerking away from an unseen cause, the gun slipped from his grasp. It clattered onto the hardwood floor, closely followed by TK as he was freed, a startled curse escaping him at the sudden loss of control.

Reacting immediately, he was already moving. Gun re-holstered, he tackled Rhett to the ground in one fluid motion, using his full weight to pin him down, muscles coiling with a practised ease that only years of experience could provide. Rhett’s resistance was immediate, thrashing, but not in protest as he had expected.

“What was that? It bit me!”

Carlos ignored him, hold firm around his wrists as he reached for his cuffs. “Stay still. I don’t want to hurt you.”

The struggle made it harder to secure him, but with the adrenaline drained from his body, Rhett stopped fighting altogether, his face pressed to the floor, breathing heavy and laboured. Carlos shifted some of his weight off him, just enough to keep him immobilized, glancing over to check on TK.

"TK?"

Carlos’s body ached with the need to move toward him, and relief washed over him as Lexi’s voice rang out from the hallway. "Reyes!"

“Clear,” Carlos called, his attention momentarily shifting as Lexi entered the room, eyes sweeping across the scene with quick assessment. “Take him. We need medical up here.”

Lexi nodded without a word, already moving to take his place.

Free, Carlos gravitated immediately towards TK, who was still hunched, one good arm braced against the floor for support, the other reaching painfully behind him. Kneeling in front of him, Carlos reached out, his touch gentle but grounding. "Easy, babe."

“Lou,” TK started. “He’s on my neck. Is he hurt?”

Carlos’s gaze flicked up, landing on the small patch of orange poking out from the back of TK’s shirt.

“Oh.” His mind clicked as he remembered the way Rhett had jerked. The way TK’s attention had wavered. TK had felt the presence of his pet climbing his back long before the bite, subconsciously leaning forward, his body arching away from Rhett's hold in a subtle attempt to avoid trapping him. Or giving him away.

“Hold tight.” Carefully, he reached for Lou, his fingers deftly sliding beneath the reptile without jostling TK’s injured shoulder. Unlike yesterday, there was no inhibition on his part as he scooped Lou into his hand, genuinely relieved to see the little creature safe.

"Is he hurt?” TK repeated. "The glass..."

Carlos was already examining Lou, thankful to find no noticeable blood or injury as the reptile squirmed, its feet scrabbling to find purchase in his hands. He awkwardly adjusted his hold, allowing Lou to grip his arm and settle. The tough scales had done the trick.

“He seems fine,” he reassured TK, “But we’ll get him checked out, just to be sure.”

TK sagged slightly, relief softening his features, short-lived by a stab of pain written clean across his face.

“Your shoulder.” Carlos echoed troubled, the disfigured joint looked worse up close.

“It’s fine, not the first time it’s been dislocated. Or that I’ve been beaten.”

Lexi glanced over, listening. "Medics are five out. I'll direct them up."

“Thanks," Carlos acknowledged, his focus darting to her only briefly. She had Rhett now upright, and he quickly called out as she led him out of the loft. "Could you keep him separate from the others? I'll fill you in later."

"Got it,” she returned, disappearing into the hallway.

Alone, he turned his attention back to TK. “You’re not moving until they get here,” he said, his tone brooking no argument.

TK huffed, the sound a blend of frustration and humour. "Bossy," he muttered. "Can I at least get on a chair?"

Carlos was ready to protest, but it dawned on him that TK was still amidst shards of broken glass. In hindsight, he was lucky he hadn’t knelt on any himself. Either way, TK was already moving, gingerly pushing himself off the floor toward the dining room chair closest to him. Carlos followed, one hand reaching to steady him, but before he could fully assist, a faint but insistent tug on his arm reminded him of Lou, still clinging steadfastly.

TK noticed, too, as he lowered himself into the chair and, despite everything, a glimmer of amusement broke through. “Hey. You’re holding him."

Carlos blinked, grimacing as the realisation dawned with an almost comic irony. "Don't get used to it. There’s not exactly anywhere to put him down. I don’t need intruders and an escape attempt in one day.”

"You're literally cradling him," TK countered, his smirk small but victorious. “You love him now. Admit it.”

"Love might be a stretch," Carlos scoffed, though his hold on Lou shifted, protective. "But he saved you. That buys him... this moment."

"One step at a time, baby," TK shot back, teasing. "It won't be long before the crickets come out."

"Not happening," Carlos deadpanned, exasperation tinged with fondness. "You're impossible."

“You love it.”

~*~TARLOS~*~ ~*~TARLOS~*~

TK sat perched on the narrow bed, the harsh fluorescent lights casting an almost clinical glow over the cubicle. It was well late, though the absence of windows did little to signal the hour, leaving the space feeling suspended in time. He wished for his phone, but the wrecked device was probably already in evidence, and was probably the least of his concerns, but the generic décor offered little in the way of distraction while he waited for the nurse with his discharge papers.

It wasn’t like he was in a hurry, though. The loft would be crawling with police for hours yet.

His shoulder rested in a sling, having been reset, but he had a plan to remove it as soon as he stepped foot back home - assuming he could convince Carlos to let him do so. The cuts on his knee had been declared superficial after being checked for shards of glass and cleaned, but otherwise there were just bruises, and though tender, the pain had already faded into a duller, more manageable ache, without the need for medication.

A sharp knock on the frame startled him. He glanced up, expecting the nurse, but instead found a woman stepping inside, clad in a dark blazer with a shield hanging from a chain around her neck.

“TK Strand? Detective Washington.”

He straightened slightly, brow furrowed. The name sparked recognition, but he couldn't connect it to anything relevant for today. “Missing Persons, right?” He ventured. “Carlos mentioned you during the child abduction case last year? You’re the one who said he should take the detective’s exam?”

Her mouth curved into a small smile at him with a hint of humour. "Any chance you've fared better with that than I have? We could really use him."

TK huffed, proudly. “We’ve talked about it, but he seems happy where he is, so I won’t push him.”

“Well, our loss, but I can see why Reyes always talks about you. Is he around?” Washington queried, but TK shook his head.

"He left to take our bearded dragon to the on-call vet. He probably won’t be long, though. Lou seemed fine, but, well… just to be safe." He shrugged, still uncertain about her presence. " Do you need my statement or something? I thought we managed to get out of this without anyone going missing, so.."

“Attempted abductions can also fall under my purview,” Washington replied carefully, her demeanour shifting to something more serious. "But I'm here due to a claim filed by a Mr. Holt following his arrest. He alleges that his niece, Brianna, has been missing since last night. According to him, his son, Rhett Holt, voiced unfounded accusations against you and your friend, and he followed to try prevent his son from making a mistake.”

The impact of her words landed like a cement block in TK's chest. Rhett had indeed been right to fear his father's reaction to the arrest.

“Bullshit,” TK said bluntly. The word fell out before he could temper his tone, and he winced, biting his tongue to rein in his frustration. “Sorry. Long night.”

Before Washington could respond, the curtain surrounding his cubicle brushed aside, revealing Carlos, who balanced a small travel container under one arm.

"Hey, babe. The vet said he was..." He halted in mid-sentence, recognising his company. “Detective Washington?”

“Officer Reyes,” Washington echoed, her eyes shifting between him and the container, an eyebrow arching in inquiry. “Is he allowed in here?”

Carlos shifted nervously under her scrutinizing gaze, guilt flickering across his features as he set the container down on the counter nearby. "Probably not, but the uniform helped, and I wasn't about to leave him in the car."

“God forbid.” TK teased.

Turning back to him, Carlos ignored the light jab, adding, "The vet gave him a clean bill of health but warned he might be a bit twitchy for a while." Carlos's concerned gaze drifted to TK's sling. "How’s the arm?”

"Better," TK replied, attempting to muster a reassuring smile, though he suspected it was more of a grimace than anything as he eased himself off the bed, reawakening his earlier aches. But he was determined to check on Lou himself. “Free to go, just like this one.”

“I’ll be quick so you can get some rest,” Washington spoke up. “You can submit your official statement tomorrow, but I wanted to make you aware of Mr. Holt’s claims as soon as possible.”

“What claims?” Carlos piped up, concerned.

“You wouldn’t believe it, babe,” TK answered dryly, glancing at Carlos. “He blamed the whole debacle on his son, claiming he was there to save the day as an act of public service."

“Seriously? He was literally in the process of abducting Cooper when we arrived on scene.” Carlos exclaimed incredulously. "There’s dashcam footage of it.”

Washington nodded briskly. “We’ve reviewed it. Additionally, the photographs recovered from the scene are damning: multiple shots of you, TK, including while you were on duty. Stalking a first responder is a serious offense. However, the surveillance footage showing Rhett Holt tampering with your mail last night could complicates matters.”

Frustration surged again through TK like wildfire. “So, what? Is he going to walk away from this?”

Washington’s expression softened slightly, empathy threading through her tone. "We have to take his claims seriously, but the evidence does not support them thus far. Your friend has already given his statement confirming that Brianna took the 8 p.m. Greyhound to Dallas last night of her own accord. Her safety has been verified, at least."

Dallas. That nugget of information felt like the missing piece of a fragmented puzzle TK had been trying to assemble in his mind.

“He also asked if I would pass on apologies for getting you involved while he’s caught up.”

TK gave a small shrug. “It wasn’t his fault. He tried his best to keep me out of it.”

“Do you think you’ll find enough?” Carlos exhaled nervously. “Rhett was pretty confident in his father’s money and connections.”

“I heard. He’ll likely continue to deny the facts, but without a solid defence to back up his claims, it will allow us to dig deep into his life, into the family, and trust me, I'll find something." Her expression didn’t waver, with an extra glint of determination. “If Rhett Holt is willing to cooperate and provide information about his father’s actions, it could strengthen our case.”

“He might, for protection.” Carlos speculated, sincerely. “Thanks for keeping us in the loop, and for taking the lead on this.”

As she exited the room, a nurse stepped in, a clipboard tucked under her arm and a patient file in hand. She must have been waiting for the conversation to conclude.

“All set, Mr. Strand. Here are your discharge papers," she announced, her voice calm and professional. "If you experience any worsening pain or have concerns, please don’t hesitate to return."

"Thank you," TK said, accepting the papers with a weary but grateful nod. The nurse offered a brief, polite smile before disappearing as quickly as she had arrived. Letting out a long, tired sigh, he glanced down at Lou, who was nestled comfortably in his carrier, seemingly asleep. God he wished to do the same.

“You okay?” Carlos asked gently, his tone softening in concern.

TK managed a nod, though the smile he offered was fleeting and didn’t reach the depths of his eyes. “Yeah. Just want to go home, but we can’t.”

"I called your dad on the way here," Carlos amended. "He's expecting us until the loft is cleared."

“Great. Hopefully that’ll be before Uncle Robert comes.” TK retorted, picking up the carrier to head out. “But at least I set up the guest room earlier.”

Notes: I said this was going to be shorter than my last…but somehow it’s longer? I couldn’t write forever , but also this just wasn’t I plot I could rush. That wouldn’t be realistic.

Yes the timing of this does mean that TK will now get a black eye probably only one or two shifts into coming back from these injuries but shhh.

If I’ve put something wrong please let me know in the comment below. 😊

On other terms I have a general idea for O and S but I’m actually going to take a break because I’ve been writing non-stop for over a month – and its time to plan my next fanvid(s) for when the show ends. But don’t worry I will be back!!

Series this work belongs to:

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