A/N: Lots of feels in this one!

Days passed. Carlos went to work, did his job, went home. It was like T.K. had never existed. If it weren't for the sweatshirt left on the back of his couch, T.K.'s preferred coffee mug still in the sink, it would have been like their relationship never happened.

Would anyone even think to let him know if something changed? If T.K. didn't wake up…or if he…took a turn for the worse? Would they call him? Or would he just hear about it on the news like he was nobody?

And then, after six days, he was on shift when his phone buzzed.

Message from T.K. Strand

Lightning shot through him. He nearly dropped the phone, couldn't move his fingers fast enough to get it unlocked so he could read the message.

Hey.

Carlos blinked a few times. "You okay?" Sarah asked from her desk opposite him.

"It's uh, it's a text from T.K.," Carlos said, trying to process a thousand feelings at once. His brain seemed to have stalled out.

"What does it say?" Sarah asked.

"It just says 'hey,'" Carlos told her, holding up the phone so she could see.

"Well that's a good sign right? It means he's awake?"

"I guess so." Carlos stared at the message.

"Are you going to text him back?" Sarah asked.

"I—-I don't know," Carlos said.

"Carlos you've waited days for this," Sarah said.

"I know, I know I have I just…what do I even say? 'So I guess you're not dead?' 'How's the bullet wound healing up?'"

She raised her eyebrows. "You could just say 'hey' back."

He didn't have the chance. They got a call and by the time his shift ended two hours later he still hadn't responded. Instead he called Michelle.

"Are you serious right now?" she asked. "Stop being such a coward and text him back!Or, better yet, go over there!"

Apparently the surprises weren't done for the day. "He's home?"

"Strand said he was released this morning. That's probably why he texted you."

Before Carlos could stop himself he flipped on his blinker and took a right in the opposite direction of his condo. He gripped the wheel tightly, anxiety racing through him so fast he felt like his whole body was vibrating.

He pulled up to the Strand's house and it was only then that he realized what a terrible mistake this might be. What if the captain was home? What if T.K. wasn't feeling well or didn't want to see him?

If he didn't want to talk to you he wouldn't have texted, Carlos lectured himself sternly. Maybe it was a little presumptuous to just show up on the guy's doorstep, but…he needed to see for himself that T.K. was all right.

Belatedly he realized that T.K. might be sleeping or immobile and unable to answer the door. But he'd already rung the bell and he heard the slow and slightly unsteady footsteps of someone moving around. The door opened and there he was, eyes open, face still a shade or two too pale, but alive, whole, and blinking against the sunlight. "Hey," he said, smile slowly spreading across his face.

"Seriously?" Carlos barked out a sharp laugh, tears pricking at his eyes again. "You've been in a coma for a week and that's all you can think to say? Hey?"

"Well like you said, I was in a coma," T.K. said, smile now a full on grin that tugged at Carlos' heart. "I'll try and come up with something better for next time."

Carlos shook his head. "God please don't even say that."

The air around them seemed to buzz with that same strange energy Carlos always felt around T.K.; like he wanted to bare his soul, tell him every secret he'd ever kept buried in his heart, and also rip his clothes off all at the same time. God damn this man made him a little crazy.

Carlos almost reached out, almost put a hand on T.K.'s face, his shoulder any part of him that would make this feel real. But he still wasn't sure of anything at all so instead he simply curled them into fists at his side. "Are you okay? They sent you home so you must be healing, right?"

"I mean I still have a hole in my chest," T.K. said. "But yeah, everything is functional."

"Good," Carlos said, uncertainty running through him. "I'm…I'm really glad you're okay."

"Thanks," T.K. said.

"Cool." Carlos was at a loss now and the silence between them was growing awkwardly long. This had been very stupid, he should have just texted back. "So I guess, I'll see you around then?"

T.K. nodded. "Yeah, yeah I think you will."

Carlos turned and started back toward his car, confusion swirling through him. Somehow he'd imagined…well he wasn't sure, but not this. Damn Michelle and her stupid ideas. He should have known better than to listen to a woman who violated her restraining order on a regular basis. Usually he was more level headed than this, how could he have—

"You really came all the way over here just to leave without coming inside?" T.K. called from behind him.

Hope sparked in his chest and he turned back to see a shit-eating-grin all over T.K.'s face. His own smile spread wide, relief crashing over him and making him feel almost dizzy. He shook his head. "Oh my god you suck," he said, walking back to the door.

"You're in your uniform. I like to see you walk away," T.K. said, stepping back so Carlos could come inside.

He suppressed a chuckle. "Glad to see your brush with death hasn't changed you."

"It would take a lot more than a bullet for me to stop thinking you're hot," T.K. told him as he resettled himself on the couch, unable to completely hide a wince despite the cocky bravado he'd put on.

Carlos sat next to him, leaving some space between them so T.K. could move as he needed to to get comfortable. "Where's your dad?" he asked, eyes taking in the pill bottles, empty granola bar wrappers, and water bottles on the coffee table.

"The station," T.K. said. "I couldn't take having him around anymore. He hovers like you would not believe."

"So you're just here by yourself?" Carlos was slightly horrified. Coming from a large family he couldn't imagine being left alone after such a grave injury. He'd come home with sprained ankles, bruised ribs, and concussions and it never failed that within minutes of his arrival some well meaning family member was knocking on his door.

"Well not anymore," T.K. said, flashing that grin again just before he leaned into Carlos, settling against his chest so Carlos had no choice but to wrap his arms around him.

They sat that way for a long time, the TV playing some daytime soap opera that likely neither of them were paying attention to. At least, Carlos definitely wasn't. He was too deeply wrapped up in disbelief. He'd spent the last week trapped in a haze of anxiety and now…the person he'd most wanted to see in all the world was literally in his lap. And he didn't know what to do with that.

He had questions, things he wanted to say, but he could tell T.K. was nodding off so instead he sat quietly, just holding him, letting the moment, a moment he'd been uncertain would ever happen again, live around him.

After about forty minutes T.K. startled himself awake and then immediately tensed, letting out a low groan of pain. Carlos rubbed a hand up and down his, worry pinching in his stomach. "You okay?"

"Yeah," T.K. said, his voice strained. "Yeah just give me a second."

Carlos continued to rub his arm soothingly, pressing his lips into T.K.'s hair as the other man breathed through the pain. "What can I do?" he asked as the minutes ticked by and T.K. still didn't relax.

"There's uh, there's some maximum strength Tylenol in the kitchen," T.K. said. "If you don't mind—"

Carlos was already easing out from behind him, moving slowly so as not to cause him any more pain. "I'll be right back."

He found the medication quickly and grabbed a few more bottles of water while he was there. T.K. was lying flat out on the couch when he returned, a hand over his face, his whole body stiff.

"Hey," Carlos said softly, kneeling by his head and cracking open the bottle, dumping two pills into his palm. "Just sit up for me a little bit, okay?"

He helped T.K. lift his head a few inches to swallow them down with a sip of water. "Oh god," T.K. groaned as he reclined fully, face pinched in pain. "Sorry, I'm not much of a host right now."

"It's all right," Carlos assured him, reaching up to gently card his fingers through T.K.'s hair. "I'll go so you can get some rest."

He started to stand but T.K. caught his hand. "You don't have to," he said and something in his eyes stopped Carlos in his tracks. He sank back down beside him, sitting cross legged on the carpet and rubbed his thumb soothingly over the back of T.K.'s hand. "I'll be right here."

T.K. slipped back into sleep not long after that for which Carlos was grateful. Sleep was far better than agonizing pain.

Carlos straightened up the living room a bit, bagging the water bottles and wrappers, adjusting the pillows and blankets. He was clearly his mother's son, fussing and fidgeting around even though a zonked out T.K. didn't require a lot of help or supervision. But he couldn't just sit and do nothing when the house lay in disarray.

As T.K. continued to sleep Carlos checked his watch and realized it had grown late. Before he could decide about waking T.K. to say goodbye he he heard a key in the front door lock and Captain Strand stepped into the house. Their eyes met and surprise registered on his face. "Officer Reyes. I didn't realize you'd be here."

Carlos shifted his weight nervously back and forth. "Yes sir. I just wanted to make sure he was all right."

The captain came a few steps closer, eyes looking past him to where T.K. was sacked out on the couch. "Looks like you've done a fine job taking care of him."

Carlos swallowed. "Yes sir," he said again. "I should get going."

"Well don't leave on my account," the captain said. "You're welcome to stay for dinner."

That was definitely boyfriend territory and since he and T.K. hadn't really had that conversation yet, Carlos thought it best to bow out. "Thank you. Maybe some other time."

The captain seemed to understand. "Well thank you for coming by. I'm sure my son appreciated it."

"Could you let him know I had to go? I didn't want to wake him."

"Of course," the captain said, though his eyes seemed to say a lot more than that.

"Have a good night." Carlos let himself out the front door. He got in his car and gripped the steering wheel tightly relief and uncertainty mixing viciously in his stomach. He'd thought coming here and seeing T.K. was all right would somehow make things clear. But if anything he felt more confused than ever. Were they something? Or was he just a convenient hand to hold?

He shook himself. T.K. had been through a trauma. They all had. It wasn't fair to expect anything of him right now. They would have time to talk. Carlos just wasn't sure if he could survive the waiting.

A/N: Leave your love in the reviews!