Title: Frozen
Author: AngelofMystery
E-Mail: angelofmystery@earthlink.net
Rating: PG
Summary: A story about Carlos
Disclaimer: The characters of Third Watch belong to John Wells and Warner Brothers
Author's Note: Everyone probably hates Carlos but I think he's worth writing about. He's my favorite character after Bosco and Faith. I can relate to his character (A little bit- compassion issues) and well I hope you guys like it.
PART ONE:
"Carlos you're-", Doc said to his partner while getting into the ambulance.
"What? Cold, uncaring and aloof? Yeah, yeah. I heard it already. I couldn't help it back there, I had to get him out of the way!" Carlos said obviously angry and annoyed.
Doc rolled his eyes, "No. I was saying that you were tracking mud in our bus."
"Oh." Carlos said looking at the bottom of his shoes, sure enough there was mud on them. He got out and wiped them on a clump of wet grass then went back into the cab.
"What's your problem man? You've been acting different." Doc said referring to Carlos's of many outbursts during the past week.
"I don't want to talk about it," He snapped back, turning his gaze to the passenger window.
Doc gave him another curious yet semi-concerned look before fixing his eyes on the road ahead of him.
Within 15 minutes Carlos and Doc reached Central, Doc parked their ambulance and shut the engine off. Without a word Carlos bolted out and headed inside. They planned on have their break at the station house.
"Hey Carlos, are you coming with us after our shift?" Jimmy asked sipping a Pepsi.
"Where?" Carlos asked half listening.
"To the hospital to hand out toys to the little kids."
"No, I'm not coming." His voice muffled by the fridge, which his head was in looking for food.
"Why not? They're little kids…" Jimmy asked irritated.
"Boo-hoo the little brats are in the hospital that's not a reason to show them with presents. Who was there when I was being knocked around by one of my many foster parents? Where was the toys and caring then? Let me tell you: It wasn't there. So no I'm not going to help out those kids, they already have it better then I ever did…" Carlos yelled and slammed the fridge door.
Jimmy looked at him, he knew about the foster homes but he didn't know about him being knocked around by them. "Ok." He said calmly.
Carlos realized he just told him about being knocked around by his foster parents, he never told anyone- not even Doc.
Realizing this is walked up stairs, wanting to be alone. Some many feeling were boiling inside of him anger and annoyance being the told two. He plopped down on a cot and closed his eyes. Lately, for some reason memories of living with the Johnsons' kept invading his sleep. Maybe it was that domestic abuse call Doc and me took a while ago, he thought to himself.
While living with the Johnsons' Carlos used to get slapped, punished and whipped for drawing cards and saying he loved them- stuff that normal kids did with their parents. They were sick like that, so after a while Carlos just stopped. Then after being sent to one foster home to the other, receiving little of no affection slowly he became the cold, uncaring, aloof ass that he was now. No one knew the real reason, well, until now no one did. He'd bet Jimmy was down there telling everyone at 5-5 his business.
Half an hour went by, and Carlos was in a slumber between awake and sleep, between nightmare and dream. Someone shook him and he opened his eyes slowly realizing it was Doc.
"Our breaks over. Did you eat?" Doc asked.
"No I didn't, there was crap in the fridge." Carlos said yawning. He got up and stumbled slightly. Doc grabbed on to his arm.
"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked now really concerned.
"I told you, I'm fine." He replied walking down the stairs.
"You should really eat, your blood sugar is probably low. We'll stop somewhere and get you something." Doc said, telling more than asking.
"Thanks." Carlos said, his words actually sounding thankful. They left and got in their bus. Carlos stared out the window then asked Doc if he heard *anything* from Jimmy, Doc said he didn't and try to probe into his question naturally curious but Carlos cut him off and let it be.
Like Doc said they stopped at a small pizza place where Carlos got 2 pieces of a pepperoni pizza to go. Shortly after eating they got a call on their radio.
"Adam 5-5 this is Central. Domestic dispute on the corner or Parkway and Terrace, it's the first building on the corner, apartment number 5A. Over." The radio crackled.
"Central this is Adam 5-5. We're en route to Parkway and Terrace. Over." Doc replied into the receiver.
Not another one, Carlos thought.
They arrived at a code 2- light buy no sirens, parked the ambulance and hauled their gear up to the huge apartment complex. Carlos searched the weathered labels to find apartment 5A when he did he pressed it.
"Hello? How is it?" A woman's shaky voice came through the intercom.
"It's the paramedics, ma'am." Doc said.
They heard the buzzer and opened the door, walked up 5 floors and knocked on the door.
An older woman with long brown hair, blue eyes, fair skin and frail figure answered, her mascara smeared and lip bleeding.
"In here." She said leading them through her small cluttered living room.
Carlos held his breath hoping for the best but his wish was unheard. Laying in a the bed was a small boy, his two eyes swollen and red, his mouth was bleeding, his arm laid cradled in a make-do kitchen rag, his leg was swollen in a knot belong his knee. Someone really beat this kid up.
Doc rushed to the little boy's side, giving him aid and soothing him with calming, friendly words. Carlos stood in the door way still, frozen in time, memories can flooding back to him, he was never beat this bad but pretty close.
"My-My boyfriend was watching Tommy, I came home and heard screams-I ran into the bedroom and found him-slapping and attacking, he got me on his way out." She said quietly.
Carlos felt sick. Without a second thought he turned around leaving Doc, the boy and woman behind, he wasn't in the mood right now…
TO BE CONTINUED…
Author: AngelofMystery
E-Mail: angelofmystery@earthlink.net
Rating: PG
Summary: A story about Carlos
Disclaimer: The characters of Third Watch belong to John Wells and Warner Brothers
Author's Note: Everyone probably hates Carlos but I think he's worth writing about. He's my favorite character after Bosco and Faith. I can relate to his character (A little bit- compassion issues) and well I hope you guys like it.
PART ONE:
"Carlos you're-", Doc said to his partner while getting into the ambulance.
"What? Cold, uncaring and aloof? Yeah, yeah. I heard it already. I couldn't help it back there, I had to get him out of the way!" Carlos said obviously angry and annoyed.
Doc rolled his eyes, "No. I was saying that you were tracking mud in our bus."
"Oh." Carlos said looking at the bottom of his shoes, sure enough there was mud on them. He got out and wiped them on a clump of wet grass then went back into the cab.
"What's your problem man? You've been acting different." Doc said referring to Carlos's of many outbursts during the past week.
"I don't want to talk about it," He snapped back, turning his gaze to the passenger window.
Doc gave him another curious yet semi-concerned look before fixing his eyes on the road ahead of him.
Within 15 minutes Carlos and Doc reached Central, Doc parked their ambulance and shut the engine off. Without a word Carlos bolted out and headed inside. They planned on have their break at the station house.
"Hey Carlos, are you coming with us after our shift?" Jimmy asked sipping a Pepsi.
"Where?" Carlos asked half listening.
"To the hospital to hand out toys to the little kids."
"No, I'm not coming." His voice muffled by the fridge, which his head was in looking for food.
"Why not? They're little kids…" Jimmy asked irritated.
"Boo-hoo the little brats are in the hospital that's not a reason to show them with presents. Who was there when I was being knocked around by one of my many foster parents? Where was the toys and caring then? Let me tell you: It wasn't there. So no I'm not going to help out those kids, they already have it better then I ever did…" Carlos yelled and slammed the fridge door.
Jimmy looked at him, he knew about the foster homes but he didn't know about him being knocked around by them. "Ok." He said calmly.
Carlos realized he just told him about being knocked around by his foster parents, he never told anyone- not even Doc.
Realizing this is walked up stairs, wanting to be alone. Some many feeling were boiling inside of him anger and annoyance being the told two. He plopped down on a cot and closed his eyes. Lately, for some reason memories of living with the Johnsons' kept invading his sleep. Maybe it was that domestic abuse call Doc and me took a while ago, he thought to himself.
While living with the Johnsons' Carlos used to get slapped, punished and whipped for drawing cards and saying he loved them- stuff that normal kids did with their parents. They were sick like that, so after a while Carlos just stopped. Then after being sent to one foster home to the other, receiving little of no affection slowly he became the cold, uncaring, aloof ass that he was now. No one knew the real reason, well, until now no one did. He'd bet Jimmy was down there telling everyone at 5-5 his business.
Half an hour went by, and Carlos was in a slumber between awake and sleep, between nightmare and dream. Someone shook him and he opened his eyes slowly realizing it was Doc.
"Our breaks over. Did you eat?" Doc asked.
"No I didn't, there was crap in the fridge." Carlos said yawning. He got up and stumbled slightly. Doc grabbed on to his arm.
"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked now really concerned.
"I told you, I'm fine." He replied walking down the stairs.
"You should really eat, your blood sugar is probably low. We'll stop somewhere and get you something." Doc said, telling more than asking.
"Thanks." Carlos said, his words actually sounding thankful. They left and got in their bus. Carlos stared out the window then asked Doc if he heard *anything* from Jimmy, Doc said he didn't and try to probe into his question naturally curious but Carlos cut him off and let it be.
Like Doc said they stopped at a small pizza place where Carlos got 2 pieces of a pepperoni pizza to go. Shortly after eating they got a call on their radio.
"Adam 5-5 this is Central. Domestic dispute on the corner or Parkway and Terrace, it's the first building on the corner, apartment number 5A. Over." The radio crackled.
"Central this is Adam 5-5. We're en route to Parkway and Terrace. Over." Doc replied into the receiver.
Not another one, Carlos thought.
They arrived at a code 2- light buy no sirens, parked the ambulance and hauled their gear up to the huge apartment complex. Carlos searched the weathered labels to find apartment 5A when he did he pressed it.
"Hello? How is it?" A woman's shaky voice came through the intercom.
"It's the paramedics, ma'am." Doc said.
They heard the buzzer and opened the door, walked up 5 floors and knocked on the door.
An older woman with long brown hair, blue eyes, fair skin and frail figure answered, her mascara smeared and lip bleeding.
"In here." She said leading them through her small cluttered living room.
Carlos held his breath hoping for the best but his wish was unheard. Laying in a the bed was a small boy, his two eyes swollen and red, his mouth was bleeding, his arm laid cradled in a make-do kitchen rag, his leg was swollen in a knot belong his knee. Someone really beat this kid up.
Doc rushed to the little boy's side, giving him aid and soothing him with calming, friendly words. Carlos stood in the door way still, frozen in time, memories can flooding back to him, he was never beat this bad but pretty close.
"My-My boyfriend was watching Tommy, I came home and heard screams-I ran into the bedroom and found him-slapping and attacking, he got me on his way out." She said quietly.
Carlos felt sick. Without a second thought he turned around leaving Doc, the boy and woman behind, he wasn't in the mood right now…
TO BE CONTINUED…