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Carlos hated the overwhelming sense of deja vu walking into West Park’s ER, arriving as swiftly as he could because he received a call from Nancy that TK was in the hospital.
At least there were different circumstances this time. They weren’t broken up, there wasn’t a freak blizzard raging outside, and hopefully, (at least that’s what it sounded like), TK was conscious and there was no tube down his throat.
For the time being, the differences ended there, Nancy still meeting Carlos in the ER lobby.
“Hey, Nance.”
“Hey, Carlos,” the woman chuckled nervously, stretching out the last syllables of the man’s name.
“What happened this time?”
It’s not that Carlos was upset that TK found himself in a hospital bed yet again, but it did make him wonder how this kept happening. As life went on it felt like they were living in a ridiculously over-the-top dramatic television show each week.
“We were dropping off a patient, hit-and-run on Alvarado. The passenger was really messed up, it looks like he was like…a few hours post kidney transplant, he shouldn’t have even been out of the hospital. Cap sent me in to find the transplant surgeon, we came back and next thing I knew it was TK on the gurney.”
Carlos took a deep breath, remembering hearing on the radio about the assault. Thirty seconds later, he’d received a call from Nancy letting him know TK was in the ER.
“What’s the damage?”
“Mild concussion and a hell of a shiner,” Nancy responded. “I don’t think they’ll keep him overnight, but they wanted him to stay for a few hours since Tommy said he was unconscious when she found him in the rig.”
“ Unconscious??” Carlos tried to remain calm, he really did, but the more he found out about this, the more worried he got about his fiancé.
“For like, five seconds, dude.”
“Like that makes me feel any better,” Carlos retorted.
Nancy shrugged. “Could have been coma number four.”
“Where is he?”
Nancy gestured over to one of the curtained-off areas of the ER. “Bay 3.”
Carlos slowly opened the curtains to see TK laying on the bed, eyes closed, still in uniform with an ice pack over his right eye. He opened his eyes at the soft sound made by Carlos as he entered the enclosed space.
“Carlos?”
Carlos walked over to the side of the bed, sitting in a nearby chair before scooting it closer to TK, the metal scraping across the floor causing the man in the hospital bed to wince.
Carlos apologized with physical touch, slowly interlacing his fingers with TK’s and rubbing his free hand slowly up and down TK’s arm.
TK slowly moved his head so he was looking at Carlos, squinting a bit as he melted into Carlos’s touch.
“He got me good, babe,” TK groaned, moving back so he was staring up at the ceiling.
Carlos squeezed his TK’s hand, bringing it up to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to it.
“It’ll be okay, TK. Nancy said your concussion was mild. How’s the black eye?”
TK winced again as he slowly removed the ice pack from over his eye, revealing a blossoming red and purple bruise forming under his eye. Carlos couldn’t hide his reaction, unintentionally gasping when he saw the damage.
TK slowly tried to sit up, pouting. “Is it really that bad?”
Carlos regained his composure, shaking his head as he spoke. “No, um…it’s–it’s fine. Barely noticeable.”
“Bullshit, Carlos.”
Carlos sighed, slowly moving to run his fingers through TK’s hair, as light as he could as to not hurt the man more. “We can stop on the way home for some concealer if you really want to.”
TK rolled his eyes, moaning in pain when the action made it feel like his skull was splitting in half. “We have that dinner with my uncle tonight.”
“We can call your dad and move it to tomorrow.”
TK sat up, groaning as he moved and got himself comfortable. “No, he’s only in town for a few days. I can deal.”
Carlos moved even closer to TK, sitting down on the bed with him. He wrapped his arms around the man, bringing TK’s head so it was resting on the cop’s shoulder. “I’m sure you won’t be the only Strand in the room with a black eye. Swore I saw your dad with one like three weeks ago,” Carlos joked.
The jest cracked a smile out of TK, who nudged his boyfriend, giggling. “Shut up. That sounds like something Judd would say.”
The pair lay back down on the bed, Carlos with his arms around TK. They’d become experts in maneuvering the best positions for cuddling on a hospital bed, no matter how small. They lay there in silence as they waited for TK to be discharged. Carlos played with TK’s hair with one hand, holding the ice pack to the paramedic’s eye in the other.
“You know what a mild concussion means for you this week, right?” Carlos asked.
TK scoffed. “I know no screens, but baby, come on. It’s The Rookie season finale.”
It was a show TK had binged over the course of a week a few months ago when he was down with a nasty flu, becoming obsessed and catching up so he was watching it in real time. Carlos normally worked Tuesday nights and didn’t want to watch a show about his profession, leaving Tuesday nights to be the perfect time for TK to practice some self-care.
“It’ll probably be the doctor’s orders, TK.”
“I’m a paramedic and I’ve had like six concussions, I’ll be fine, I swear. ”
“Tyler…”
TK pouted, knowing he was putty in the hands of his fiance when Carlos used his first name. “Fine.” He knew he would just watch it at work, anyway.
Carlos pressed a gentle kiss into TK’s hair, running his fingers up and down TK’s arms, tracing soft patterns along the way.
“I really like when you wear this short sleeve uniform,” Carlos mused. “But I feel like every time you do you end up here with a head injury.”
TK shrugged, a cheeky smile spreading across his face. “At least it wasn’t a kid this time.”