Archive of Our Own ^beta

Carlos finally leaves TK's side at Owen's insistence that he go home. Shower, get a change of clothes, eat something, even sleep in a real bed for the night. Carlos doesn't intend to do any of those things --- well, maybe he will run home for a quick shower and a bite to eat, maybe pack some things for the long hospital stay ahead before coming right back. But he certainly isn't "going home." Not now that he has TK back, not after he almost lost him for good. His home is here, looking up at him from this hospital bed. His home has always been here.

"I won't let him out of my sight," Owen promises, completely sincere. No one feels like teasing Carlos for being so clingy, not after the last couple days. "You have my word, Carlos."

Carlos nods and stands, every muscle stiff and aching. He bends down again to embrace TK, his back groaning in protest, and TK lets out a little whimper, his fingers trailing weakly along Carlos's back.

"I'll be right back," Carlos whispers into his ear, presses a kiss to his cheek. "Sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."

"Talk," TK rasps. "We… need to talk." He coughs a little and Carlos feels his chest spasm beneath him. He straightens up, giving him room to breathe, and TK whimpers again at the loss. One hand reaches for him, trembling. His eyes are full of storm clouds, and Carlos can see his own exhaustion and pain reflected in them. "Please," he whispers. "Please stay. We need to talk."

"I know," Carlos answers, grasping his hand. Sheer relief had dulled the pain for a while, the anger and the hurt. Now, he could feel the hurt prickling beneath his skin again. "We'll talk. But right now, you need to rest. I'm coming back. I'm coming right back. I'm not leaving you. "

"Promise?"

He has no right to ask that of me. "I promise," Carlos says anyway, gripping his hand a little tighter. "I promise I'll come back."

TK's hand slackens in his, and Carlos lowers his arm gently back to the bed. He steps away, and Owen steps in to take his place, settling into the uncomfortable chair and reaching out to brush his fingers through TK's hair. TK relaxes, his eyes falling closed, and Carlos waits to watch his chest rise once, twice, three times, before finally turning to go.

Out in the hallway, Carlos makes it out of sight of TK's room, makes it past the waiting area where he'd sat holding onto Nancy and Tommy like a lifeline, is about to turn the corner and head out into the snowy day… and turns the other way instead.

All his swirling, roiling thoughts, all his anger and grief and pain and fear, all of it had vanished from his mind when TK jolted awake. All he could think was TK, TK, TK. You're alive, you're okay, you're here. Then there had been only adrenaline, anxiety, what if this is only a dream? A moment? What if you fight your way back only to slip away again? For good this time?

But he's okay now, he's been okay for hours, the steady beep of the heart monitor still echoing in Carlos's ears. And so the panic recedes, the adrenaline fades, the dark clouds come rolling back in, the anger and grief, the pain and fear.

So he keeps walking, one foot in front of the other, falling into a rhythm that bounces off the austere tiles, not really knowing where he's going. Just the force of his thoughts propelling him forward.

You left me, you almost left me like this. You hurt me, and then you tore open the scar on my heart. I am so relieved that you came back to me and so exhausted down to my bones. How could you do this to me? How could I forgive you? How do I already know that I'm going to? Why does this always happen, to you, to us? Why does the universe seem so determined to take you away from me? Why ---

"Carlos?"

Carlos stops in his tracks, turns to find an open door. Inside is Grace, propped up against a mountain of pillows, her tired smile drawing him closer.

"Grace!" Carlos stops at the threshold, hesitant. "I, um… I don't want to impose…" He hadn't realized his feet and his thoughts had carried him to the other side of the hospital.

"You're not, of course not, come in, come in," she waves, and Carlos is drawn forward, unable to resist. "Baby's just been fed and now she's sleeping like a little angel. Judd's gone to find coffee."

"She's beautiful," Carlos whispers, peering into the bassinet at her bedside. Her impossibly tiny nose twitches, but she sleeps on.

"That she is," Grace sighs as Carlos settles into yet another uncomfortable hospital chair.

"And how are you?" He winces a little as he says it --- she just gave birth in a broken down bus in a snowstorm, is how she is.

"Exhausted," Grace chuckles. "But… really, really happy."

"Yeah." Carlos can understand that.

"How's TK?"

"Okay," Carlos sighs, willing some of the tension to leave his shoulders as he says it. He's alive, he reminds himself. He's okay. He's here. "He needs rest but… he'll make it."

"Thank the Lord," Grace murmurs, her hand coming to rest over her heart. "He does test us with that boy."

Carlos nods, suddenly unable to speak. Tears prickle at the corner of his eyes, and he takes that as his cue to leave, before Grace can ---

"Carlos? What about you?" Grace holds his gaze, searching his face. "Are you okay?"

Fuck. A flare of panic seizes Carlos's heart. He should leave, now. Grace just had a baby, she's exhausted, he can't just ---

"Carlos. Are you okay?"

Maybe it's how gently she says his name, or the fact that she's the first person to ask him that since TK woke up, but Carlos finds himself shaking his head before he can think about it, pressing his lips together as tears begin to fall. He catches a glimpse of Grace's stricken face before he buries his face in his hands.

"Oh, Carlos."

Carlos pulls deep breaths in through his nose, exhales shakily into his palms, trying to compose himself. There's no discreet way to wipe his nose and cheeks on his sleeve. Grace won't mind, though.

"Sorry." It comes out cracked, broken. "I'm sorry ---

"No, nuh-uh, none of that." Grace's voice is firm. "You've been through a lot. You have," she insists at Carlos's noise of protest. "Yes, you have. You can feel all the feelings you need to about it."

Carlos nods as a fresh wave of tears threatens to spill over. He closes his eyes as they fall, takes a few more long, slow breaths as they trace their way down his cheeks. When he opens his eyes, Grace is looking at him still.

"You can talk to me about it, if you want."

"You just had a baby," Carlos points out. In a snowstorm, he doesn't say. He really shouldn't be imposing on her like this.

"Yes I did," Grace agrees, "which makes me a mama. And mamas give the best advice, don't they?"

Carlos can't argue with that.

"Come on, darling. Tell me what's wrong."

Grace is patient as Carlos struggles to make sense of his thoughts. The big aching knot in his chest. He looks down at his hands, twisting his fingers together.

The anger, the pain, the grief, the fear. And underneath it all… he unearths a deep sense of dread. Of wrongness. What if, what if… what if he's been wrong, all this time?

That's it, he realizes. That's what he's been feeling.

He remembers his mother beside him, rosary in her hands. He thinks he first felt it then, that fear seeping into his heart, spreading cold through his limbs. He tucked it away, pushed it down then. He couldn't voice that thought to his mother, not then.

Grace, though… Grace might understand. Grace would know. And he has to voice it now, now that he realizes what it is. It's almost bursting out of him.

"This isn't the first time he's almost been taken from me," he finally begins, his voice a bare whisper. "Or the first time he's left me. Or the second. I can count on both hands." He laughs and it tastes bitter.

"He walked out on our first date. And then he almost drowned in a silo. And then I asked him out and just as I was getting to know him, he got shot. And just as we were trying to define our relationship, a solar flare happened and he almost died saving that woman from that bus. And then," he laughs again and the bitterness spreads over his tongue, "we became boyfriends, and a volcano erupted. In Austin. We moved in together and he got kidnapped the very next night and then our house burned down and the fire station exploded and then ---

Carlos gasps for breath as the words pour out of him, burning on their way out. "And then! I find us a new home and he --- and we break up over it." A twinge of pain in his heart. "And now, this." He shakes his head. TK's latest, and closest, brush with death. "This."

"Like I said." Grace grimaces. "The Lord does test us with that boy."

That's exactly it, Carlos thinks. "I just…" He fights back another wave of tears, emotion constricting his throat. "I…"

"Take a breath, Carlos," Grace soothes. "That's it. Take your time."

Carlos lets out a shaky exhale. "I… sitting there, at his bedside. Again. I couldn't help but think…"

He looks up at Grace, desperate. "Am I… wrong?"

Grace frowns. "Wrong?"

"I mean… the universe." Carlos rakes his fingers through his hair. "The universe just seems to be doing everything it can to stop us from being together. And I just… maybe… maybe I am wrong."

His hands begin to tremble as the awful conclusion spills from his mouth.

"Maybe it is wrong for me to be gay."

He sees Grace's eyes widen, and stares hastily into his lap instead.

"Carlos ---"

"What if this is God, telling me I shouldn't be with this man? That it's wrong of me to love him?"

He can't stop now that he's said it, now that the thought has fully formed, taken shape. He can feel his whole body shivering, like he's the one caught in a snowstorm.

"The universe, just sending sign after sign that this shouldn't be, that this is wrong. All the times it's tried to take TK away from me, all the times it's nearly succeeded? Why? Why would God keep trying to take away the best thing in my life? Unless God really does hate me." He falters on the last word.

It's not something anyone has ever directly said to him. Especially not his parents, who most of the time seemed to prefer not to acknowledge the existence of queer people in the first place, but never seemed to hate them either. But growing up where he did, in the community he did… of course he's heard it. Brandished like a weapon, spit like fire from the mouths of his elders, his teachers, his neighbors. Abomination. Hellfire. Shame.

"What if God really does hate people like me?" His voice is small, a child's plea. But it has been more than fifteen years since that thought was so present in his mind. God hates people like me. Fifteen years since it took up that much space, or any space, inside him. He's cultivated so much love in his life since then, enough to banish the thought to a dark corner. And now, the threat of that love being taken from him, yet again, has left him hollowed out, vulnerable. A scared child again. And so it creeps back in.

"Carlos."

He looks up, and Grace's eyes are filled with tears. Great. She just had a baby, and now I've upset her. What's wrong with him?

"I am so sorry."

Carlos frowns. Why is she apologizing? He should be the one apologizing. He opens his mouth, but Grace holds up a hand to cut him off.

"I am so sorry that you have ever been made to feel that way. No one should ever feel that way." Her voice wavers. Carlos watches a tear drip from the end of her nose. "Like the universe is out to get you, just for being who you are."

"I know." He doesn't want to feel that way. He hasn't felt that way in a very long time. But, here they are.

"I don't believe that God hates you, Carlos. I can't believe that. God is loving, God is love. Anyone who's ever told you otherwise is a fool."

"What do you think, then?" Carlos pleads. "Why does this keep happening? And don't ---" He finds himself suddenly angry. He bites it down, trying not to lash out at her. "Don't say it's all part of God's plan, His grand design or whatever. At this point, if that's true, He's just being cruel."

Grace bows her head. Thinking or praying or both, Carlos can't tell. His eyes flick from her face to the door and the still-empty hallway and back again. He wonders if he should just leave. Leave now, and apologize later, once he's sorted out his feelings, for barging in and demanding she speak for God. What is he doing?

A pit opens in his stomach and Carlos spirals into it, and the seconds tick on in silence.

"Okay." Grace finally speaks. "Here's where I'm at."

Carlos looks to her, and her eyes are bright, steely.

"You and I… we've seen enough to know that sometimes, bad things happen because of people, not God. It's people being awful to each other, or hurting each other because they're desperate and scared. That's something we understand, maybe better than anyone."

Carlos nods. He remembers the woman who leapt off a balcony to escape her abusive partner, the man with the bomb strapped to his chest. He's seen the cruelty that humans can inflict on each other. But tornadoes, solar flares, volcanoes, ice storms?

"Sometimes accidents just happen, too." Grace looks at him like she can read his thoughts. "You look at everything you and TK have been through in the last couple years and think God has it out for you, but it was an accident that brought him here in the first place, remember?"

Shit. The realization smacks him in the face. "Grace, I'm sorry," he says. "I didn't mean… I didn't mean to be so…" Forgetful? Self-centered? He's suddenly, uncomfortably aware of how he's been sitting here, whining about the universe dealing him an unfair hand, to a woman who lost her whole firehouse in one night, who almost died herself a year later. Who just gave birth in a snowstorm. "I'm sorry," he says again.

"Carlos," Grace sighs. "You need to learn to stop apologizing for things you have no business apologizing for."

He almost says sorry again, but catches it on the tip of his tongue.

"My point isn't to chastise you, or to play the victim game. We both know better than that. My point is to say…" She pauses, searching for the words. "All those accidents? All those bad things that happen, with no rhyme or reason to them? That's not where I see God's hand."

"You're looking at things one way," Grace continues. "But the way I see it? Carlos… you've been given miracle after miracle. That man of yours is a danger magnet. Bad things seem to just… haunt him. And every time they come for y'all, God steps in, brings you back to each other. And that --- now I know you're not about to apologize again!"

Carlos snaps his mouth closed.

"That is where I see God's hand. That's His grace right there, that's His love. Guarding you, guiding you, giving you the strength to weather any storm together. Protecting the best thing in your life, because He loves you."

Grace reaches almost absently for the chain around her neck. The golden cross there catches the wintry light streaming through the window.

"The love you and TK have… it's a beautiful thing. It's a precious thing, that kind of love. That's why I'll never understand people who claim that God hates people just for being queer. What kind of God would deny His children something so beautiful, so joyous, so precious? Why would God punish anyone for that?"

"I know," Carlos murmurs. "It… it took me a while to realize that, when I was younger. But I know, I've had that faith for a long time, that… that I'm just as God wants me to be. This has just…" He shakes his head. "It's shaken my faith, I guess." But his heart has calmed, the knot in his chest loosened a little. He feels steadier under Grace's careful gaze.

"I understand," Grace nods. "You're not wrong to be questioning, to want to understand. Actually, you should talk to Judd sometime. You might find you have some things in common."

"I'll think about it," Carlos says. "But, I wouldn't want to impose." The baby is still sleeping peacefully in her bassinet for now, but Carlos knows he won't get many opportunities to talk to Grace or Judd like this from now on.

"Nonsense," Grace smiles. "Come over sometime, hold the baby, and come talk to me and Judd. Can't feel nothing but pure love in your heart when you're holding a baby."

"That's true," Carlos chuckles.

"But Carlos." Grace's voice grows serious. "Look at me."

Carlos does, and is held in place by the steel in her gaze.

"Hear me when I say that you are not wrong. Okay? You're more than just not wrong. You are beautiful. You are precious. Queerness is beautiful and precious. The love you and TK have for each other is a bright light in this world. God wouldn't want it any other way. I hope you're able to hold firm to that faith again, one day."

"One day," Carlos repeats. "Thank you. I… I needed that."

"Carlos!"

Grace shoots a glare at Judd as he claps his free hand over his mouth. "Sorry," he whispers, frozen in the doorway. "I'm too damn happy right now, I can't remember to be quiet."

Carlos takes Judd's arrival as his cue to leave, standing and offering a hand to Grace. She takes his hand and squeezes it, and he tries to convey his gratitude and love for her as he squeezes back.

"I thought you were headed home?" Judd sets his coffee on an empty chair and moves to the other side of the bed to kiss his wife on the forehead. "That's what Owen said, anyway. Our boy's doing just fine," he adds before Carlos can even ask. "He's asleep, and Owen's watching him like a hawk. Reckon you've still got time to nip home for a minute, come back when he's awake."

"I think I will." His head feels a lot clearer now. Clear enough to realize he's hungry, and aching, and probably doesn't smell great. "Thank you, again," he says to Grace. "Please get some rest."

"Judd, sweetheart," Grace calls from the bed. "Could you please give Carlos a hug? The best you got." She grins. "He really needs one. I would, but I don't think I have it in me to get up right now."

"On it, darling." Before Carlos can step out the door, Judd is there, wrapping him tightly in his arms, and Carlos is sinking into his embrace, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes again.

"You're okay," Judd murmurs against his forehead. "You're both okay."

Grace was right, again. Carlos needed that too.

Weeks later, he manages to explain all this to TK, sitting in their bed --- their bed, it's their bed again --- as TK strokes his thumb over the new chain around Carlos's neck. It's a reminder, Carlos says as TK brushes a curl from his forehead, caresses his arm, his cheek, his knees, his stomach. He can't seem to stop touching him, lately.

It's a reminder that our love is the most precious thing in my life. That what we have, everything we've been given, is a gift. That something this beautiful is always worth fighting for, it can't be destroyed so easily. That you and I will always come home to each other.

In that, I have faith.