911/911 Lone Star One Shots

Lesser Of Two Evils

TW: self harm

TK was having a decent day for the first time in awhile. Carlos was working, his dad was busy with a new project, and he had the day to himself. Nobody to have to talk to or hide from, just him on his own.

He got up and threw on a pair of shorts and one of his favorite old NYFD t-shirts. He forwent the typical long sleeve shirt since nobody was going to be around him today; there was nobody to hide his wrist from.

He decided to clean up the apartment, taking advantage of the energy and decent mood he had for a change.

As he was wiping down the counter and humming a Kenny Chesney song that Judd had gotten stuck in his head the previous shift, the door suddenly opened.

"And you said you despised country music." Judd smirked, closing the door behind him and joining TK in the kitchen.

TK nearly jumped out of his skin. "That key was for emergencies! What are you doing here? You know, besides giving me a heart attack." He was too caught off guard to remember to move his arm, leaving it exposed as he leaned against the counter.

"I just thought I'd-..." Judd dropped off as he caught sight of TK's arm. TK followed his gaze and froze, the air leaving his lungs abruptly.

Judd carefully took his hand and brought his arm towards him, looking at the scattered cuts and fresh scars lining his forearm. "You did this to yourself?" It was less of a question than a statement. TK found the ability to move again and yanked his arm back.

"N-no I-... it's not like-... damnit, Judd!" He sputtered before beginning to pace the kitchen, his hand in his hair as he breathed too heavily. "You can't just... I wouldn't have... just don't..."

"TK, stop. Just stop for a minute. It's okay." Judd tried, moving to stop his pacing with his hands on his shoulders. He held him in place, one hand moving to the back of his head. "Breathe."

TK took a ragged breath, looking at Judd in terror. "Don't tell anyone. Please Judd." He begged, sounding pathetic and not even caring.

"Buddy, what's going on? Why are you hurting yourself?" He ignored his pleas, his only focus on making sure his brother was okay.

"I- you're going to think it's stupid. And it- it is stupid! It's just-" He spoke too fast before Judd shook his head.

"No, no, no. If something is making you hurt yourself, it's not stupid. I'm not gonna judge you or nothing. Come on, talk to me." He spoke softly, doing his best to keep calm for both of them. He'd noticed TK acting different lately but didn't think anything of him wearing long sleeves; it was February. This felt unexpected.

TK dropped his gaze, staring now at Judd's boots. "I've just, I don't know, been having a hard time lately and I've had urges to use again. This helps make the urge not as strong. I started on my legs but my arm is where I used to inject stuff so the feeling, it's... more familiar? It's messed up, I know, but it helps me avoid relapsing." His voice was low, forcing Judd to strain to hear him.

"That makes sense." Judd nodded. His reaction shocked TK into looking up at him again.

"It does?"

"Yeah, it does. It's a coping mechanism and I understand why you're doing it." He validated his feelings before continuing. "But I can't stand by and ignore that this is happening. It's not safe."

TK's eyes grew wide and he pulled out of Judd's hold. "What? Are you going to tell people? Judd, you- you cant-"

"Easy, kid. I'm not telling people. We are going to tell Carlos." He raised his hands in surrender. "I'm assuming he doesn't know."

TK shook his head. "No. We've worked weird shifts the past two weeks so it's been easy to hide it."

"Right." Judd sighed softly, watching TK start to scratch at his chest, then his neck, then his arms. "Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa. What's going on right now?" He felt panic rise in his chest as red lines started to appear on his friend's skin.

"I- this is a lot and it's overwhelming and I just- I-" he tried to explain as Judd carefully took hold of his wrists to make him stop scratching.

"And you want to use?" Judd finished for him, receiving an affirmative noise as his gaze dropped. "Okay, I hear ya. Uh... alright, here." He turned to the freezer and got out an ice cube. "Run this over your arm instead. I'm calling Carlos."

TK reluctantly took the ice cube and did as Judd told him. It didn't help as much as inflicting pain on himself did, but listening to Judd's phone call brought more than enough pain anyway.

"Are you at all able to get someone to cover your shift and come home?... Uh, not exactly. He ain't dying or nothing, but he needs, well, I don't know what he needs... Probably better if we tell you when you get here... Carlos... Okay, well, he's uh, he's been hurting himself. He's got cuts all down his arm. Said it helps him not relapse... I know... I don't know exactly. Just try to get here soon... Of course, we'll see ya soon."

When Judd ended the call, he turned his attention back to TK. He still held the ice cube to his wrist but had tears on his face now.

"It's gonna be okay, TK." He assured him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"No it's not. I'm too messed up. I'm a wreck, Judd." He started to sob, turning and pressing his face into Judd's chest.

"You ain't too messed up. You're okay." He tried to comfort him, holding him close in his arms until Carlos got there.

"TK? What's going on baby?" He asked worriedly as he ran in the door. Judd turned TK into Carlos' embrace, squeezing his shoulder one more time.

"I'll give y'all some space. I ain't gonna tell nobody, but I expect you two to call if you need anything. I mean it." Judd told them, receiving a grateful nod from Carlos as he tried to console TK.

Judd left and Carlos let TK cry for awhile longer.

"I'm sorry." He cried softly, his tears and snot soaking Carlos' shirt.

Carlos gently guided his face upwards to look at him. "Talk to me. What's happening?"

"I want to- I've been having urges to use but- but this helps because the- the drugs I used to inject was in my- in my arm and this helps make the pain and some relief without- without actually relapsing. I should- I should've came to you or- or Cooper earlier. I just- I thought I could fix it myself." He explained through quieting sobs as Carlos cupped his face in his hands.

"Okay." Carlos nodded. "It'll be okay. This wasn't a good choice, but I see how you thought it was helping."

"It wasn't as- as bad as relapsing." TK pointed out, the same thing he'd been telling himself for weeks.

"I know, but it wasn't good, either. We need to get some help, okay? We can call Cooper, we can go to a meeting, we can make you a sooner therapy appointment. I'll help as much as I can, Judd will too." Carlos promised, kissing his forehead softly. "I love you so much."

"I love you too." He sniffled, laying his head against Carlos' shoulder. "Can we just lay down for a little bit?"

Carlos hesitated. "Yes, but when we get up, we're going to take the next step. Whether that's Cooper or finding a meeting or calling your therapist, we're doing it. I'll be right by your side."

"Okay." TK agreed, moving to the couch. Carlos sat down and TK cuddled up to him, his head finding it's place against Carlos' neck.

"I'm really sorry. It- it was just a better choice than..." he spoke softly, clutching Carlos' shirt with his hands, almost like he was trying to prevent him leaving.

Carlos kissed his forehead. "I know, but we can't be doing that either. I can't let anybody hurt this beautiful body."

TK took a shaky breath and just stayed still against Carlos. He knew when they got up from the couch, he'd have to take the next step for help. But right now, he was with Carlos and Carlos was holding him tight, keeping him safe from himself. Right now, that was enough.