"Babe, are you sure you're okay?" T.K. asked, reaching across the island to rest his hand on top of Carlos's, frowning at the slight flinch in response. Ever since Mateo recounted his story about dressing down his captain, Carlos had seemed on edge. At first, T.K. thought Carlos was just grossed out a bit about them all talking so casually about bile and intubation, but as the evening went on, Carlos withdrew bit by bit from the conversation, and T.K.'s concern only continued to grow.

Now, the rest of the crew had left, and his dad and Mateo were settling in for the night, which is exactly what he and Carlos should be doing. But instead, Carlos was still sitting at the island, peeling bits of paper from his beer, staring off into space. T.K. wasn't even sure that Carlos knew they were alone in the kitchen, and it was starting to worry him.

"Are you sure that Mateo won't get into trouble?" Carlos asked again, looking up briefly at T.K and then back down to his bottle as if he was afraid to hear the answer.

T.K. was a bit startled at the question breaking the silence that had fallen on the kitchen. "He might get a formal reprimand and have to do some extra chores, but no, he won't get in trouble," T.K. explained carefully. But then he frowned at Carlos's question - hadn't he already asked about that earlier? "Are you sure you're fine, babe? Because you asked that question earlier…" T.K. trailed off, trying to think back to how many beers Carlos might have had that night.

Carlos shook his head; he was anything but fine. He was about two minutes from falling apart and knew that he couldn't keep it bottled in anymore, not with T.K. repeatedly asking him if he was fine. "Can we go...outside for a few minutes?" Carlos asked, not wanting anyone else to hear what he had to say.

"Sure," T.K. replied, pausing to pull on a hoodie that he had tossed on the couch earlier and then followed Carlos out to the backyard. Carlos sat on one of the patio chairs, and T.K. followed suit, choosing the one closest to Carlos's. T.K. couldn't help but feel the start of his leg bouncing, signalling how super underprepared he felt for whatever conversation was about to take place.

"You know that the station I'm at now isn't the station that I started with," Carlos started off saying, glancing over at T.K. Seeing his boyfriend nod, he continued. "My first fraining officer was a homophobic asshole," Carlos said, gripping the arm of the patio chair tightly. "I ignored it as much as I could. I wasn't out then, not at the station, but I never, ever actively participated in the conversations."

T.K. nodded again, slightly shocked at Carlos's description, as he rarely swore, especially compared to T.K. He reached out to take one of Carlos's hands, unable to let Carlos continue without some form of support. He wanted to make sure that Carlos knew he wouldn't judge him for being in the closet at work, especially while in training.

"Then one day, we responded to a domestic call between two men. And I couldn't take the comments anymore." Carlos could feel his heart rate tick up at just the thought of that call, at the awful things his TO was saying about both men, but most particularly, the victim. "I told him exactly what I thought about him..." Carlos said, his voice faltering at the end of his sentence.

Carlos's eyes filled with tears as the flashbacks of the hazing he went through flickered through his mind like a bad horror film. The crude comments, the vandalism, the physical violence; it all piled up until Carlos put in to transfer to move to another station. "I don't...I don't think I can tell you what happened yet, T.K., but...it was bad," he choked out, his body curling in on himself as he let his tears fall. This was the first time he had told anyone about the hazing, and the relief of no longer being the only one to carry that burden was equally devastating.

T.K. sat still for a couple minutes in shock as he tried to process what Carlos had told him. But then he realized his boyfriend was falling apart in front of him and moved to offer comfort, squeezing in behind Carlos on the chair and wrapping his arms around him tightly. "It will be okay, baby," he murmured quietly into Carlos's ear, pressing reassuring kisses down his cheek and then to his neck. He tightened his grip on Carlos, who turned into his grasp to tuck his face into his chest, his hoodie quickly becoming damp with tears.

As T.K. rubbed Carlos's back, he made a mental note to have his dad check in on Mateo to ensure that he wouldn't encounter what Carlos had to go through. No one should have to encounter hazing in a fire station, regardless of rank or reprimand, if he had anything to say about it.

Carlos started to shiver in T.K's arms as the breeze outside dropped another couple of degrees. Noting how thin of a top that Carlos had on, T.K. pulled Carlos up and into the warm house, heading right for the privacy of their guest room. T.K. helped Carlos get undressed for bed, carefully pulling off his clothes and replacing them with a soft t-shirt and plaid sleep pants that most likely belonged to Paul. All of the 126 had dropped off supplies and extra clothes until T.K. and Carlos had an opportunity to start replacing all that they had lost to the fire. As the two settled in under the sheets, T.K. convinced Carlos to roll over. Carlos was normally the big spoon, but tonight T.K. was taking over, attempting to cover Carlos with all the warmth he could provide.

"I love you, Ty," Carlos said quietly, pulling T.K.'s arm snug around his waist, slightly embarrassed at his breakdown but allowing himself to embrace all the love that T.K. was offering. "And thanks for everything," he added as T.K. drifted off to sleep, unable to reply to Carlos's as rest beckoned. But Carlos knew how T.K. would respond anyways and allowed himself to fall asleep as well, safe in T.K.'s arms.