So, I was actually going to go to bed at a reasonable hour but this particular chapter has been running around in my head for days and I had to get it down on paper. (Or, more accurately, a word document)

The first two chapters were fluffy, but I promised the occasional angst. This will be a 2 parter. Mentions of past drug use, overdoses and toxic relationships are littered throughout.

Owen screws up in this chapter but this is still very much a "Owen Strand Is A Good Dad" fic. Even good dads make mistakes.

All Owen wanted to do was check on the status of his face serum. Usually, it's on autofill and ships out the first of every month. Ever since moving to Austin, he's had to manually do it. A pain in the butt, yet he's not about to switch up brands now.

He left his laptop at the station, but his son's MacBook lounges on the kitchen table. TK's let him borrow it in the past in a pinch. He's given him the password and everything.

"No secrets, right?"

Owen is quick to pull up the website. He has the serum in the cart and ready to go when the iMessage app pops up. Owen still doesn't quite understand how the messages go to both the computer and the phone. TK has given up attempting to explain. Some things are better left a mystery.

His first instinct is to x out the app, when he sees a familiar name towards the top of the list.

Alex

The preview shows the last text sent was today at 8:05 AM.

Owen's hand hovers over the touchpad, his fingers fidgeting.

"Have you spoken to Alex?" Owen asked as they finished packing up TK's apartment.

His son shook his head. "I told some friends to let him know I'm moving."

Owen did his best to hide the relief in his voice. "You don't want to say goodbye?"

"The goodbye at the restaurant was more than enough."

Owen wasn't stupid to think that Alex was out of his son's mind forever. He's more than certain he comes up in TK's therapy sessions. They dated for nearly a year and the breakup is what pushed him over the edge.

He was supposed to stay a thought in TK's mind. Not appear in text messages.

The preview doesn't give much of a hint to the conversation. A simple strand of 3 letters, not even forming a real word.

LOL

Is TK laughing at a pathetic excuse for an apology? Over the idea that they'd get back together?

Or, is it in response to an inside joke? Alex's potential way of charming his son back in. Maybe things didn't work out with the spin-cycle instructor.

Owen hates the anxiety that creeps up in every fiber of his bones. He'd say he wants to go back to a time that didn't exist, but the feeling predates Alex or TK growing up entirely. It's what set in the day Gwyn announced she was pregnant. The overwhelming fear that something, or someone, could hurt his child. He's a first responder. Even prior to 9/11, he had seen all the ways children could get hurt.

It's only exacerbated over the years between his son's diagnoses and later, his taste in guys. TK has always struggled when it comes to relationships. Owen's liked maybe one of his boyfriends since he started dating at 15. The overprotective father was relieved when TK agreed with his therapist that he isn't in a place to be dating right now.

That hasn't changed. TK has improved drastically since the move, but it doesn't change that he's still in a vulnerable state.

"This is ridiculous," he mumbles. "You're jumping to conclusions."

There'd be answers that much sooner if he opened the text.

Back when TK first got a phone along with social media, the rule was that Gwyn and Owen could check it at any time. They only did if they truly suspected something was wrong. That tapered out when TK got his own apartment. Ironically, that was when Owen felt he had more of a reason to check than ever. Maybe if he had, they could've avoided the two relapses.

Could this prevent another?

His finger clicks the touchpad. He only allows himself to look up at the texts from today.

Alex: Missed the bus. Now I have to walk.

TK: 10 whole blocks.

TK: However will you live?

Alex: Forgot my umbrella. I just may melt.

TK: LOL

A conversation about missing transportation and the weather. Nothing out of the ordinary.

So, why doesn't he feel better?

"Dad?"

Owen takes a step back at the sound of his son's voice carrying from upstairs. He clears his throat.

"In the kitchen."

"I have a meeting in 20 minutes and I can't find my sneakers. I think Buttercup hid them again."

Owen's eyes don't leave the screen. "Check my room."

"I did…wait…"

Indeed, Owen does. He remains in the kitchen, laptop open on the table. After a few minutes, there's shuffling down the stairs. TK enters the kitchen, shoes in hand.

"He put them in the nursery."

"Oh."

"I don't know why he does that." TK bends down, sliding the sneakers on. "Anyway, I should be home around 6."

Owen breaks away from the screen. "Sounds good. I'll have dinner waiting."

"Cool."

TK pulls the Velcro over and takes a step forward, arms open for a hug. He pauses upon noticing the computer.

"Did I leave that down here?"

Owen remembers the words of the leader of his Nar-Anon group.

"It only works if you're both honest."

"Yes," Owen says. "I needed to order something, when your messages popped up. I was going to close out of it when I saw one of the last people you texted."

TK tilts his head, his face scrunching up in the process. He walks closer to the screen. The confused look drops and his eyes narrow in its place.

"You read my texts?"

"I wasn't going to until I saw the name."

"Oh, because that makes it so much better?!" TK slams the laptop screen down. "How much of it did you read?"

"Just the stuff from today."

"Right."

"I'm trying to be honest here, TK," Owen says. He straddles the line between defending himself and taking accountability. "Maybe I shouldn't have read them…"

"Maybe?" TK scoffs. "I thought I outgrew you reading my texts."

"I thought you did too."

TK frowns. Owen can barely comprehend the words that just came out of his mouth.

"What is that supposed to mean?" TK asks, his voice sounding a mix of hurt and irritated.

"I don't know." Owen runs his fingers through his hair. "Normally, I wouldn't think twice about it. Then I saw Alex's name and I was…surprised."

"So, you read them."

"I was worried. I didn't realize you two were talking."

"We're not!" It's Owen's turn to fix him with a look. TK sighs, throwing his hands up in the air. "Alright, he had to send me some stuff I left at his apartment. It's that stupid package that came last week. Just clothes and junk."

"That was last week."

"Are you trying to control who I talk to?"

"I'm just trying to understand!" Owen takes a deep breath. "You told me that there was nothing left between you two."

"And there's not, outside a few stupid t-shirts and an old video game."

"Then why still talk?"

TK grabs his laptop and shoves it under his arm. Owen purses his lips. This isn't how this conversation should've went.

"TK, I'm sorry, okay? I should've talked to you first."

"It's none of your business! I can talk to whoever I damn well want to."

"Hey," Owen holds up a hand. "You're allowed to be mad at me right now, but can we talk like adults?"

"Oh, because you're treating me like an adult right now?! Because looking through my texts doesn't exactly give me that vote of confidence."

"I shouldn't have done that, I was wrong. I apologize." TK's muscles loosen slightly but not by much. "However, you should have told me you two were talking."

"What does it matter?"

"Are you two…"

"No! Dad, I told you, I'm not dating right now. Not for a very, very long time."

Owen nods, unsure why that doesn't bring him much relief. "But are you friends?"

"We're just…" TK trails off, biting his lip. "Talking."

"Talking."

"Yes. Believe it or not, exes can talk to one another."

Exes certainly can. Owen spoke to Gwyn at least once a week until she died. Occasionally he hears from Loraine.

Owen is also more than just legally divorced from those two. All romantic emotions have been separated as well. They don't have an impact on his mental health.

"Alex is more than just an ex," he whispers. "You wanted to marry him. Had the ring picked out and everything. Then out of nowhere…"

"Dad, I was there. Okay? It happened to me. I was the one who got a broken heart that night."

"And that pushed you into a horrible place."

Owen blinks to erase the image of TK sprawled out on that floor. The buzzing that went through his ears as he barked out the orders.

The way it felt like whole days passed until his son, his only baby, finally breathed again.

"That's what this is about," TK says, pulling him back to the reality of their Austin home instead of that apartment. "You think I'm weak."

"No! I don't think that all! I have never thought that!" Owen takes a step forward, trying to cup his cheek. TK is quick to pull away. Owen sighs. "I just know what a vulnerable state you were in and I want to protect you from falling back there."

"You don't trust me!"

"I didn't say that! Of course I trust you. I believe you think that talking to Alex is the right choice. That you are on a good path right now. I just want to make sure you stay on it!"

"It's my path to take! I know what I'm doing!"

TK slams the laptop back down and storms out of the kitchen. Owen follows quickly behind him.

"TK, we need to talk about this."

"I have a meeting to get to." TK grabs his hoodie off the hook.

"You shouldn't drive like this."

"I'm walking. Feel free to follow me if you want." TK shoves the hoodie over his head. "After all, I may slip and fall into some drugs."

Owen clears his throat. A cornucopia of emotions swell alongside the anxiety. Guilt and hurt are the main ones, battling it out in the ring.

"I trust you, TK. I also just care about you," Owen whispers. "I'm sorry I read the texts."

TK scoffs, grabbing his keys off the board. "But you did it for my own good?"

"No. I shouldn't have done it period. We could've talked about it. We should talk about it."

"Well, right now, I really don't feel like talking. Besides, a part of your crazy list of demands is that I attend these stupid meetings on our days off. Wouldn't want to give you yet another thing to worry about."

Owen loses the energy to argue. At this point, they need the space. Perhaps, more than ever, TK really needs that meeting.

He stressed his son into that point.

"Please be careful, Monkey," he says. TK scoffs again. "I know you're worked up right now and that's my fault. I just want you to get there in one piece."

"I'm fine! Just stop talking!"

TK storms out the door, slamming it shut behind him. Buttercup comes scampering down the stairs. He runs straight for the door, scratching his paws against the wood. Owen gently redirects him.

"He'll be back," he mutters. "It's my fault he's not happy right now."

Buttercup doesn't move from the door for a half hour.

TK doesn't eat when he gets home. Owen leaves a plate outside his door after he storms upstairs, but it goes untouched. He makes him a smoothie and around 10, the glass is also full. Buttercup didn't even attempt to get into it, knowing his favorite human all too well.

TK doesn't fight going to bed, but he resists a kiss alongside Owen's attempts to play with his face. In hindsight, it was silly to even try, but he'll never not show his son affection.

There are no words spoken the next morning, but at least TK eats something before they head into the 126. The silence is still palpable, but there's the distraction of calls and other work that needs to be done. Judd keeps shifting Owen some looks, but he knows not to speak up in front of the crew.

As evening falls, TK once again goes to bed without being told. He ignores Owen's attempts to say goodnight.

They haven't gone this long without speaking in a good while. Even when TK was a kid, pre-everyone having a cell phone, and Owen worked a lot, they'd talk at least once a day. If only for a few minutes. That kept up after he got his own place.

The first words to come out of TK's mouth are in the early hours of the next morning. They accompany him slamming a piece of paper on Owen's desk.

"There."

Owen picks it up. The logo for the hospital's lab is printed in the top-right corner.

"I went to Nancy after my meeting the other night," TK explains. "Results came back yesterday afternoon. I'm clean."

Owen sets the paper down without even looking at it. When they first moved, he required TK to take the over-the-counter drug tests once a week. That tapered out after a while. He doesn't need them.

"TK, I never doubted your sobriety."

"Well, it surely felt like you did. She had the lab run my blood and my urine. If you look, both are negative."

"I don't need to look."

"Really?"

Owen pinches the bridge of his nose. "I want to talk about this, I really do. There's a lot I have to say and I'm sure it's mutual. But we're at work, so now is not the time."

TK opens his mouth to speak when the siren takes over. He's out of the office before his dad can get up from his chair.

The results of the drug test remain on the desk as they tend to another crisis.