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The Honky Tonk was alive with music, the sound of guitars blending with the hum of conversation and laughter. It was the kind of place that felt like stepping back in time—sticky floors, neon beer signs buzzing faintly, and the scent of whiskey and smoke lingering in the air. TK and Carlos sat at the bar, their bodies close, their easy smiles coming naturally.
It had been years since they first were here, since that impulsive, reckless hookup that neither of them could have predicted would lead to this—a marriage, a life together. And yet, some things never changed.
Carlos took a slow sip of his beer, eyes twinkling as he looked at TK. "You keep looking at me like that," His voice was low and warm, "and I’m gonna have to take you home early."
TK smirked, resting his elbow on the bar and propping his chin in his hand. "Is that a threat or a promise?"
"You’re impossible." Carlos chuckled, shaking his head. "But I do want to get you out of that shirt."
The words sent a shiver down TK’s spine, his breath catching ever so slightly.
"Behave, Ranger Reyes." He said it like a warning, but they both knew TK wasn’t exactly trying to discourage him.
Carlos smirked, sitting back in his seat, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim of his bottle. He couldn't tear his gaze away from TK.
They were so wrapped up in each other that neither of them noticed the man watching TK from across the bar.
Carlos’s eyes flicked toward the crowd, spotting a few familiar faces. "Hey, Sam’s here!" He said, nodding toward a small group of men near the pool table.
TK glanced over, recognizing one of Carlos’s old Texas Ranger buddies. "You should go say hi."
Carlos hesitated. "You're not coming?"
"In a second, baby." He tapped his fingers against his soda glass. "I’ll get another round for you guys. Consider it my good deed of the night."
Carlos hesitated. "Are you sure? I can stay and help you with the drinks."
TK rolled his eyes playfully. "I think I’ll survive five minutes without you."
Carlos chuckled, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to TK’s lips before finally heading toward his friends.
TK turned to the bartender, raising two fingers. "Can I get another round of beers?"
"Coming right up."
With that settled, TK pulled out his phone, scrolling through texts and social media. He didn’t notice the man until he spoke.
"Hey." A deep voice said from beside him. The kind of voice that demanded attention, whether or not you wanted to give it.
TK glanced up briefly, his eyes scanning the stranger—tall, maybe mid 40s, rough around the edges, with a smile that felt more predatory than friendly. It was the kind of smile that sent a shiver down your spine.
"Hey." TK muttered, flat, dismissive, before turning his attention back to his phone. His fingers continued to swipe, but his mind was alert, on edge.
"You here alone?"
TK frowned slightly but didn’t look up. "Nope."
The man leaned in a little. "Boyfriend?" The words slid from his lips like a challenge.
"Husband." TK corrected, finally meeting his gaze. His voice was firm, leaving no room for misinterpretation.
"That’s too bad."
TK was already done with this conversation. "Not really."
But the guy wasn’t taking the hint. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping a bit, more smug now, more persistent "Come on, you can’t blame me for trying."
TK’s grip on his phone tightened. "I’m really not interested, man."
"You sure? You look pretty alone to me."
TK exhaled sharply through his nose, his patience thinning fast. "I’m not."
Before he could say anything else, a loud crash echoed from across the bar—a glass breaking, followed by a burst of laughter. Instinctively, TK turned toward the noise. It was nothing, just some drunk guy knocking his drink over. That place was always a mess on a Friday night.
When he turned back, the man was still there.
TK’s stomach twisted slightly, but he ignored it.
"Like I said," He repeated sharper. "I’m with someone. You should go."
The man’s eyes narrowed, studying TK, weighing him for a moment, as if deciding whether TK was worth the trouble. Then he raised his hands in mock surrender, the smirk never leaving his lips. "Okay, your loss."
TK didn’t bother responding. The bartender returned with the beers, setting them in front of him. TK reached for them, but before he could grab them all, he realized his hands were full. Sighing, he tipped back the last of his soda, chugging it quickly before stacking the bottles together.
The taste was a little off. A little too sweet.
He frowned but didn’t dwell on it.
Balancing the bottles, he made his way toward Carlos, who was in the middle of a conversation with Sam and two other Rangers.
"Look at that, Strand bringing the goods!" Sam teased as TK handed out the beers.
Carlos smiled, wrapping an arm around TK’s waist and pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you, babe."
"Well, I was feeling generous." TK smirked, leaning into Carlos’s side.
Sam grinned. "Nice to see you again, TK. You keeping this one in line?"
TK chuckled. "Oh, you have no idea. Full time job."
Carlos rolled his eyes playfully, taking a sip of his beer.
The conversation carried on, lighthearted and familiar, but as the minutes passed, something started to feel...off.
TK’s vision blurred slightly at the edges. The room felt like it was tilting.
He blinked a few times, trying to clear it, but the sensation only grew stronger. A wave of dizziness hit him, sudden and disorienting. His chest felt tight, his limbs heavier than before.
What the hell?
He hadn’t had a drop of alcohol. There was no reason for him to feel this way.
His fingers curled into a fist at his side, trying to ground himself. His breathing was steady, but there was a strange buzzing in his head, like his thoughts weren’t connecting fast enough.
It was a feeling he knew all too well. He had been here before.
No.
A flicker of unease ran through him, but it was sluggish, like his brain was fighting against something.
He needed to get some air.
"I’m gonna hit the bathroom." TK said suddenly, his voice sounding distant even to his own ears.
Carlos glanced at him. "You okay?"
TK forced a reassuring smile. "Yeah, just—just gotta go."
Carlos studied him for a second longer, his brow furrowing slightly. "Want me to come with you?"
"Nah." TK said quickly. "Stay."
Carlos smirked. "What? Scared we’ll end up like the first time we were there?"
TK managed a weak chuckle, giving Carlos a light punch on the arm. "Shut up."
Carlos laughed, turning back to his conversation, and TK took that as his cue to leave.
He pushed through the crowd toward the bathroom, but each step felt heavier than the last. His heartbeat was pounding too fast, his skin tingling in a way that wasn’t normal.
Something was wrong.
And he was starting to realize it far too late.
TK barely made it to the sink before gripping the edge with both hands, his knuckles turning white. His whole body felt off—like he was floating, yet unbearably heavy at the same time. His head swam, his vision blurring in and out of focus as he forced himself to take slow, steady breaths.
The cold water felt shocking against his skin when he splashed it over his face, but it did little to ground him. His heartbeat was too fast, his limbs too weak.
He blinked hard, trying to steady himself, but the dizziness was getting worse. He gripped the sink tighter, focusing on his reflection—his face was pale, his pupils blown wide.
Then, the door creaked open.
TK didn’t react at first, too busy trying to keep himself upright. But when he caught movement in the mirror, his stomach twisted.
The man from the bar.
Shit.
TK turned his head slightly, forcing himself to stay calm, even as his gut screamed that something was very, very wrong.
"You okay there?" The man asked, his voice dripping with fake concern.
TK sighed, forcing himself to speak despite the way his tongue felt heavy in his mouth. "Look, man, I already told you—I’m not interested."
The man chuckled, stepping closer. "Relax, I’m just making sure you’re alright."
"I’m fine!" TK said, but even to his own ears, it didn’t sound convincing. His voice was weaker than before, the edges of his words slurred.
The man took another step, closing the distance between them. "You don’t look fine."
TK clenched his jaw. "I don’t need your help."
But his body betrayed him. When he tried to push off the sink, his knees wobbled, the dizziness hitting him like a truck. He stumbled, his vision darkening for a second, and before he could catch himself, the man’s hands were on him.
One large, repulsive hand pressed against his back, sliding too low, fingers brushing the waistband of his jeans.
TK’s stomach turned.
He jerked away, a burst of adrenaline forcing him to move. "Don’t touch me."
The man held his hands up, feigning innocence, but his smirk gave him away. "Easy there. Just trying to help."
TK’s breathing was uneven, his heart slamming against his ribs. Every alarm in his head was blaring, but his body wasn’t cooperating.
He needed to get out of here.
He needed Carlos.
The second he tried to step away, the movement sent him spiraling. The floor tilted, his vision going hazy, and his legs nearly gave out again.
Before he could collapse, the man caught him.
"Whoa there." He said, his voice smug. "I got you."
TK tried to shove him off, but his limbs felt unresponsive and weak. "Let go!" He slurred, his panic rising.
"You need some air." The man said smoothly. "Come on, let’s get you outside."
"No." TK tried again, but his voice was barely above a whisper. His body refused to listen, his strength slipping away.
The man’s grip tightened. "Don’t fight it." He murmured, guiding TK toward the door. "I’m just trying to help."
The last thing TK saw before the bathroom door swung open was his reflection—dazed, vulnerable, and utterly helpless.
And then he was being dragged toward the back exit, his feet barely keeping up, as the world around him faded.
His head was spinning, his body sluggish and uncooperative as the man hauled him through the back door of the bar. TK’s body wasn’t listening to him.
His mind was screaming at him to fight, to run, but every attempt at moving was sluggish, weak, useless. His limbs felt like they were underwater, too heavy to lift, too uncoordinated to do anything but stumble.
And the man knew it.
The bastard had been pretending to help, but TK could feel the truth in the way his hands gripped him too tightly, in the way he guided him—not toward the bar, not toward help, but further into the parking lot.
TK forced his feet to stop moving, but the man only tugged him along harder.
"You’re okay." He said, too smooth, too calm. "I got you, sweetheart."
Sweetheart.
TK’s stomach turned.
"No." He mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper.
The man ignored him. "You’re real pretty, you know that?"
TK shuddered, bile rising in his throat. His stomach twisted violently, the wrongness of the situation slamming into him all at once.
"I bet you hear that a lot, huh?" The man continued as he kept dragging TK across the dimly lit parking lot. His grip was firm, fingers pressing bruises into TK’s waist. "Pretty little thing like you? Bet guys fall all over themselves to get a taste."
TK’s head was spinning, his vision blurring in and out. The pavement beneath his feet felt unsteady, like he was walking on air, about to collapse at any moment. When they reached a car—a dark colored sedan—the man pressed TK against the cool metal, keeping a firm grip on his waist as he fumbled for his keys.
TK’s panic spiked.
This was bad. This was really, really bad.
His pulse pounded in his ears, his body drenched in cold sweat. He tried to push off the car, to move away, but his legs gave out beneath him, and he fell forward, his knees hitting the rough pavement. His cheek scraped against the gravel as he hit the ground hard.
A sharp sting bloomed on his skin.
He let out a weak whimper, but the man just tsked above him, like TK was some unruly pet who needed to be put in his place.
"Shit, you’re a mess." He muttered, amusement lacing his voice. "Should’ve been more careful, sweetheart."
TK ignored him, his brain screaming at him to move. His hands scraped against the ground as he tried to crawl, as if he could drag himself away inch by inch.
The man let him.
TK barely made it a foot before the click of the car door unlocking echoed in the alley.
"That’s enough of that." The man sighed, crouching down behind TK.
TK barely had time to react before he grabbed him, hands rough and possessive as he pulled TK upright.
"Let me go." TK's words were barely coherent.
The man chuckled, his grip sliding lower, fingers pressing into TK’s waist, brushing against his hip bones.
"Shhh." He murmured with lips too close to TK’s ear. "Just relax. I’ll take care of you."
TK thrashed weakly, but it was pathetic. His heart pounded in his chest, panic coursing through his veins.
Soon he was maneuvered effortlessly, shoved onto the backseat.
He tried to push up, but there was already a body on top of him, straddling his lap, pinning him down.
Cold terror shot through TK’s chest.
"There we go." The man's voice was low and full of something sickly sweet. His hands moved with a terrifying slowness, brushing over TK’s waist before slipping under his shirt.
TK’s body revolted.
"No!" He forced out, trying to shove the man away, but it was like pushing against a brick wall.
The touch was light at first, fingertips ghosting over his stomach, but then—scratching. Sharp nails dragged over his skin, and TK gasped, body flinching instinctively even though he was too weak to fight.
"Don’t." He slurred, breath ragged.
The man only grinned.
"Relax." He cooed, pressing his palm flat against TK’s stomach, fingers splaying wide. "You’re making this harder than it needs to be."
TK swallowed thickly.
"I’m gonna take such good care of you, sweetheart." He went on. "I'm gonna take you home and we’re gonna have some fun tonight."
No. No, no, no—
A weak whimper slipped past TK’s lips.
His hands pressed against the man’s chest, but his arms barely held any strength. His muscles wouldn’t obey him, his body felt wrong, the drugs making it impossible to fight back.
"Please." It was barely audible. "Stop—"
"Shh, it’s alright." He murmured, leaning in closer, his breath hot against TK’s ear. "No need to be shy, baby. I got you."
TK felt sick.
His entire body screamed in protest. He couldn’t push, couldn’t run, couldn’t—
The man leaned down, lips dragging along TK’s jaw before moving to his neck.
"God." He sighed. "You smell amazing."
TK’s stomach twisted violently. He could feel the wet press of lips trailing down his neck, the disgusting slide of a tongue against his skin.
He twisted, trying to roll away, but the man pinned him down easily, his weight pressing TK further into the car seat.
"Where you going?" He chuckled. "I like when they put up a little fight, but you and I both know you’re not going anywhere."
The man’s fingers dipped lower, brushing against the waistband of TK’s jeans. With slow, deliberate movements, he undid the button, the feeling of it unfastening sent a fresh wave of terror through TK’s system.
He wanted to disappear.
He wanted to sink into the earth, to stop feeling the hands on him, the lips brushing against his skin, the weight of his own helplessness crushing him.
Then the zipper came next, the slow sound of it lowering. TK's heart pounded so violently it hurt, his chest constricting with every shallow, uneven breath.
He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing every ounce of effort into lifting his arms, but all he managed was a weak twitch of his fingers.
The man hummed in approval, his hand slipping past the loosened waistband, fingers grazing skin—
But then—
The weight was gone.
Ripped away.
A snarl of rage split the night, and TK heard the unmistakable sound of a body hitting the pavement.
His whole body was trembling, his head too heavy to lift, but he heard voices—angry voices. More than one. But only one cut through the haze, slicing straight through the fog in his mind.
Carlos.
"You sick son of a—!"
A crack echoed through the night as Carlos’s fist collided with the man’s face.
Then again.
And again.
Carlos barely felt the sting of his knuckles splitting, barely heard the ragged, pained grunts coming from the man beneath him. All he saw was red.
"You—fucking—piece—of shit—!"
The man barely had time to register what was happening before his world turned to pain.
"Carlos!" A voice cut through the chaos—it was Sam.
Carlos didn’t stop. His fist connected again, this time sending the bastard’s head bouncing against the pavement.
"Carlos!"
A firm grip on his shoulder yanked him back, stopping him mid swing. Carlos snarled, struggling against Sam’s hold, still seeing red, ready to tear the man apart—
"Go to TK!" Sam’s voice was sharp, cutting straight through the haze. "We got this—go to your husband!"
The words hit Carlos like a slap.
His fury evaporated in an instant, replaced by sheer, gut wrenching panic.
TK.
Carlos whipped around, breath catching hard when he saw his husband still sprawled on the backseat of the car, his body limp, his eyes half lidded. His shirt was rucked up, exposing the pale skin of his stomach, his jeans unbuttoned—
He couldn’t think about that. Not right now.
"TK!" Carlos was at his side in an instant, hands shaking as he cupped TK’s face, forcing his husband’s gaze to meet his. "Baby, hey—hey, look at me."
TK’s head lolled slightly, his eyes unfocused. His pulse—fuck, his pulse was there but weak.
Carlos felt his stomach drop.
"What did he give you?" He asked, voice tight with barely contained terror. "TK, baby, what did he slip you?"
TK’s lips barely moved. His fingers twitched weakly, trying to grasp at Carlos’s sleeve but failing.
"Shit." Carlos swore under his breath, carefully wrapping an arm around TK’s shoulders, shifting him forward so he could get him out of this car.
"I got you." He whispered. "I got you, baby, I got you."
Carlos was kneeling in front of TK, who sat still in the car, looking disoriented, his eyes barely staying open. The overwhelming sense of helplessness surged through him, his stomach twisting with worry. He turned to Sam. "He needs an ambulance. Now."
Sam was steady as ever. "They're on their way." He reassured.
Carlos nodded, but it barely registered. His heart was pounding, his pulse racing. He turned back to TK, his hands trembling as they gently cupped his husband's face, his thumb brushing over the scratches on TK's cheek. He felt his chest tighten as TK's gaze met his, his breath coming in shallow, labored gasps. Carlos’ heart twisted at the sight, but he forced himself to focus. TK needed him.
"TK." Carlos whispered urgently, his voice hoarse. "Baby, can you hear me? I’m right here."
TK’s eyes fluttered, but he didn’t respond. The silence between them felt like a heavy weight pressing down on Carlos's chest.
Sam placed a hand on his shoulder, a gesture of support, though Carlos could barely appreciate it. His mind was spinning—TK was barely conscious, and the way he looked, so fragile and distant, made Carlos feel like his world was crumbling.
He turned back to Sam, his voice rougher now. "It... it might be Rohypnol. The symptoms match. He’s out of it. He’s not responding—his pulse is weak."
Sam gave a curt nod, his expression hardening, but he didn’t need to say anything. His presence alone was a steadying force. Carlos appreciated it. He didn’t want to break, not in front of TK. Not when TK needed him more than ever.
He gently ran his fingers through TK's hair, trying to comfort him in the only way he could. "Hey." His voice was trembling despite his best efforts, "You’re gonna be okay. I promise. Just... hold on a little longer. Help’s on the way."
So Carlos stayed there, his hand never leaving TK’s, gently caressing it as if to remind him that he wasn’t alone. He kept his voice soft, whispering soothing words in between each labored breath. Every second that passed felt like an eternity, but he didn’t care. He just needed to make sure TK felt safe.
The sirens of the ambulance cut through the air before long, growing louder as they approached. Carlos felt his chest tighten again, but he didn’t let go of TK’s hand. Not for a second. Not even when the ambulance finally pulled up and the paramedics rushed in, assessing the situation quickly.
The police arrived right after, and Carlos barely registered their presence as they started to take the man who had done this to TK away. His eyes flicked up for only a moment as they dragged him. But it was brief, too brief for the anger and rage that bubbled up in his chest to truly sink in. Later, Carlos told himself. Later, he would deal with that.
Right now, all that mattered was TK.
Carlos climbed into the ambulance beside TK, keeping his hand resting gently on his husband’s arm, reassuring himself with the warmth of his skin beneath his fingers.
As they arrived at the hospital, the team of doctors and nurses were ready and waiting. Carlos didn’t let go. His hand remained firm and protective, following the stretcher as they wheeled TK inside. His heart hammered in his chest as they transferred him onto the bed, but he didn’t let go.
Carlos was asked a million questions, most of which he didn’t have answers for, but he did the best he could, focusing on his husband’s well being.
When they finally had TK settled, with an IV in place and all of the necessary precautions taken, the doctor came in to speak with Carlos. His voice was calm, almost clinical, but Carlos couldn’t help but feel the weight of every word.
"We believe you’re right, about the Rohypnol." The doctor said softly. "He should be fine, but we’ll keep him for observation."
Carlos could feel his legs weakening, but he held himself together. He wanted to stay strong for TK, to hold it together long enough to know he would be okay.
The doctor hesitated, then added. "There’s just one more thing we need to discuss. If it’s something you want to consider... we could to do a forensic exam."
Carlos’s breath hitched. The reality of it hit him like a train, and for a moment, he didn’t know how to breathe. The thought of it—the thought of everything that had happened to TK—made him feel like the world was crashing down around him.
"Um... I’m not sure." Carlos said, his voice hoarse, as he looked down at TK’s pale, unconscious form. "I... I need to talk to him. It's his decision."
The doctor nodded, understanding. "Of course. Take your time." With that, he stepped out of the room, leaving Carlos alone with TK once more.
Carlos stared at his husband, his chest tight and his mind swirling with a thousand thoughts. He couldn’t stop looking at TK, couldn’t stop the protective urge that filled him.
It didn’t take long for TK to stir, his eyelids fluttering as he slowly regained consciousness. The bright overhead lights made him squint, his mind foggy, disoriented. He blinked a few times, trying to focus on the unfamiliar surroundings. His breath hitched slightly as his eyes landed on Carlos, who was sitting by his side, his hand still gently resting on his arm.
"Carlos?" TK’s voice was hoarse, fragile.
Carlos’s heart clenched, the instinct to reassure him overtaking any other feeling. He leaned in closer, his voice soft but steady. "Hey, it’s okay, baby. You’re safe. You’re at the hospital."
TK’s brow furrowed, confusion clouding his gaze. "Did... did I... take something?" The question came out with a quiet panic.
Carlos’s stomach twisted, and he had to swallow the lump that formed in his throat. He realized, with a sinking feeling, what TK was asking. TK thought he had relapsed. He thought he had taken something on his own. Carlos’s chest tightened with that realization.
"No." Carlos said quickly, his hand squeezing TK’s. "No, you didn’t,TK. You’re not... you didn’t relapse." He wiped a tear that had slipped from the corner of his eye, his voice shaking slightly but firm. "It wasn’t you, baby. It wasn't your choice."
TK blinked, as if trying to comprehend the words. His breath began to hitch. "What... happened?" He whispered, his voice trembling as he forced his mind to recall the night, the moments before. He looked terrified, his face drawn in an expression Carlos hated seeing.
Carlos kept his hand steady on his husband’s, trying to keep his voice calm, as if it could steady TK’s thoughts. "Do you remember anything, baby?" He asked gently. "You don’t have to force it. Just take your time."
TK closed his eyes for a moment, his breath shaky as he tried to piece together the events. And then, like a jolt of electricity, the memories came rushing back—the man at the bar, the feeling of being trapped, the way everything had gone wrong. His breath caught in his throat, and he gasped, his body tensing at the shock of it.
Carlos watched the realization hit, the look of horror in TK’s eyes. But he didn’t let go of him, didn’t pull away. He stayed there, his thumb gently rubbing over the back of his hand, grounding him.
TK squeezed his eyes shut, as if to block out the memories, but then he exhaled deeply, focusing on Carlos’s presence. Slowly, the panic subsided, replaced by a deep sadness. His voice was barely a whisper when he spoke again, cracking with emotion. "I remember..." He met Carlos’s gaze. "I remember everything."
Carlos swallowed, his own heart breaking. "I’m so sorry, TK." He whispered. "I’m so sorry this happened to you."
TK shook his head slightly, as if to stop Carlos from apologizing. He wasn’t sure he could deal with that right now. He just needed Carlos, needed him to be there. He didn’t want to be alone with the memories.
Carlos hesitated for a moment, planning his next words carefully, and after a long pause, he finally asked. His voice barely above a whisper, fragile with concern and tenderness. "Listen, baby... I know this is beyond hard, but we need to talk about something else. We need to make sure you’re okay... Do you want to do a forensics exam?"
TK’s eyes flickered with something—shame.
"A rape kit?" He looked away, unable to meet Carlos’s gaze, his throat tight as he swallowed back more tears. "No." His voice cracked with raw emotion, and he had to pause to wipe his eyes with the back of his trembling hand. "It didn’t— It didn’t go that far."
Carlos nodded slowly, understanding, but still devastated by everything that had happened. He leaned in close, his forehead gently resting against TK’s. "Okay. Okay, baby. You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for."
They did have enough evidence already to make sure that monster rotted away in jail. Surveillance footage, witnesses—everything lined up perfectly. There was no escaping for him.
TK let out a shuddering breath, as if he could finally start to exhale, but he still looked lost, still trying to process everything. Carlos’s arms were the only solid thing keeping him grounded.
"You’re safe now." Carlos whispered again, his lips brushing against TK’s forehead. "I’m here."
TK’s voice was quiet, barely above a whisper, as he turned to Carlos. "Can we go home?"
Carlos placed his hand, softly, over TK’s cheek, a reassuring touch. "We need to stay here tonight, just for observation." He said softly. "But I won’t leave your side."
His thumb brushed tenderly over the marks on TK’s neck— the evidence of what that man had done to him. Carlos didn't say anything, just hoped his touch could ease some of the hurt.
TK’s breath caught for a second, but soon his body seemed to relax into the touch. His eyes fluttered closed, and he allowed himself to lean into Carlos’s hands. The gentle care Carlos gave him made him feel a little safer, a little more whole.
"I hope it’s okay that I called Cooper... He said you guys could talk tomorrow. If you want to." His voice was tentative, as if trying to give TK the space he needed.
TK opened his eyes, a faint smile curving on his lips despite the exhaustion in his features. "Thank you." He said quietly. "I appreciate it."
Carlos pulled back slightly, glancing down at TK with a soft smile, his voice light as he tried to shift the mood. "Alright, i should probably warn you about something." He had a playful glint in his eyes. "I asked my mom to stop by the loft and bring us some clean clothes. And you know how she is—she's probably going to show up with an entire buffet of comfort food."
TK's lips twitched, and before he could stop himself, a small, genuine laugh slipped out, the sound warm and familiar, the first laugh he’d let out all night. His eyes sparkled a little as he looked at Carlos. "You know i love her food." TK said, his tone lighter now, more like himself.
Carlos couldn’t help but smile, relief washing over him. Hearing TK laugh, even just a little, made him feel like they were beginning to find their way back. "Yeah, me too. But you know, if we end up with a mountain of tamales it’s all your fault."
TK shook his head, a small grin forming. "I think that's something I can live with."