Work Text:
‘My hands they shake with sorrow
Mr heart it bleeds with pain
My soul forever lingers
Wishing you could have stayed.’
Janice Andrade
Sleep can plays tricks in the body, yes it’s your own mind but a state where you are at your most vulnerable but are meant to feel the most safe. So sleep can be evil. Watching and waiting till when you need it most and tortures you for it with dreams. Dreams that took your darkest fears twisting them into a life like image to either forget by morning or remember till your dying day. Childhood nightmares based off snippets of adult information embedded deep into the dream realm; a man once got stuck in the deep ditch under the old railway bridge, the station it ran too had closed in 1969, it collected water like a swimming pool, he drowned in it apparently during a rainstorm. Whether it was true or some outlandish childhood horror story told on the playground many children were glad to be able to watch the bridge get demolished and replaced with the new bus route even getting to safely help.
Carlos never had a fear that his subconscious could twist until. Until he met TK. His seemingly shinning angel that both lit up and tore up his life in the best way possible. Although he was apprehensive about children when TK turned over the positive pregnancy test seemingly all those years ago when in reality Gee was only a few months old.
He could see her now, her dark curly hair in a simple ponytail, uncharacteristic as TK has expressed excitement surrounding caring for their daughters hair properly including learning how to plait. She was sat by the front door looking out the window, her toy phone next to her.
(And she's still waiting on the last call you promised)
(Back in July through a terrible August)
(And she's still waiting on her dad to come home)
(But all she has left is a name on a stone)
(She's made peace with pain)
His mind flashed back constructing an image of TK he had only ever seen in old photos. Thin, sickly looking.
(You look different, you look strange)
No matter how Carlos approached the topic TK brushed him off, others tried as well, Owen out right demanded to know if he was using again. He had to think for a few moments, the wheel grinding painfully slow as he unconvincingly said no he was still sober.
(You said you're sober and things have changed)
(I don't believe you, why should I?)
“(I've been let down before by them same damn lies)!” Owen scolded him, chastising him like he was the same dumb teenager that had been caught using all those years before, except now he wasn’t just a dumb teenager he was-is a dad and a husband. They had to ease up on the intensity of the interrogations as it just resulted in TK pulling further and further away, sleeping on the sofa instead of there martial bed. When he finally came clean, begging for help and apologising for all the pain he had caused all Carlos could say was, “(I don't hate you, no one does).”
(But you're kicking and screaming, we're calling your bluff) Getting sober and staying sober was his next challenge, he had scared Gee in a violent mood swing during which he had thrown a chopping board in the kitchen. Of course he had regretted it and spent hours comforting her and assuring her that daddy was getting better. But he wasn’t.
(But I forgive you though you're gone)
(And I pray you've found peace but it's hard to move on)
(And she's still waiting on the last call you promised), waiting patiently with her toy phone just like daddy had said the day before he left for rehab, hugging her extra tight and indulging in an extra bedtime story then being joined by Carlos snuggling around her in her bed.
(Back in July through a terrible August)
Gee stayed with Andrea as Carlos and Owen drove TK to check into rehab, Owen had mechanically set over a list of approved items with the exhaustion expected of a man who had experienced this several times before. Gee had a special calendar that had 90 days, each day she would check one off and every Saturday was decorated with a bright pink star that was the day she visited daddy at the hospital because he’s not very well. At first she asked a lot why she hasn’t been to see TK since day 47, no one could tell her. She had it in her head he was surprising her by coming home early! But when a week past she concluded he was really sick and like in the films they weren’t allowing visitors, very decisive for a child. So she kept ticking off the days, her papa watching on with slightly teary eyes. On day 90, she excitedly waited by the door her dark curly hair in a simple ponytail, uncharacteristic as she and her daddy loved plaiting it.
(And she's still waiting on her dad to come home)
The 126 gently encouraged Carlos to tell her a partial truth, she deserved that at least. Refusing to believe it she remained patiently waiting by the door, even after she put on her smart dress and kissed the coffin goodbye, continuing long after her daddy finally came home in a jar.
(But all she has left is a name on a stone)
(She's made peace with pain)
The last photo they have of TK, Gee was in his lap in inpatient and they were colouring together when she announced she needed the loo. Toilets were in sight so they let her go on her own, “(Skin looks pale and you've lost weight),” Carlos commented, “But you’re more yourself even she notices that,” he smiled, the first time he had seen the infectious smile he fell in love with in a long time.
(With those whiskey burned words but you swear you're okay)
(And mom's been crying, so is yours)
He got the phone call around eight in the morning, the news broke in time of the sunlight. Carlos slumped up against his bedroom wall cursed to look at the empty bed, he wept and wept completely missing Gee slowly entering the room. She took the phone from his hand and called Abuela, “Hey mijo!” She cheerfully answered the phone, “Abuela papa won’t stop crying,” she whispered, “Are you home sweetheart?” “Yes,” Gee quietly answered, “Stay right there sweetheart.” True to her word she must have broken every speed limit to get there, setting Gee up with breakfast she pulled the door over and sat down next to Carlos.
('Cause your hands have been covered in scabs and sores)
“He’s gone mum,” he cried, “Who is mijo?” “TK. TK’s gone, the rehab called, he overdosed in the night and they found him this morning, accidental overdose,” she immediately pulled him into a hug, “I’m nit telling you how to grieve but that little girl cannot loose another father and she has a right to know who her daddy was. She should remember the good things not the bad.”
(So batten hatches, close all the doors)
(Shut off the people who love you the most)
(Second chances haven't come often)
(And I wish you took one when that was an option)
The grieving husband and daughter stood front and centre the light wooden coffin surrounded by flowers and a photo of a smiling face that hid so much centre stage. Carlos lifted Gee up into his arms and carried her over to the coffin as many were respectfully shuffling out to TK’s favourite song, they both kissed him goodbye before leaving.
('Cause she's still waiting on the last call you promised)
(Back in July through a terrible August)
Even now at 16 Gee occasionally waits by the window in some faded hope that on the 17th August she might just see her daddy walking up the driveway. Her memories of him at abundant, shaded for the true horrors of what he suffered till she’s old enough to understand that he never not loved her. His medallion now adorned her neck. His face is engrained into her soul, papa could never move on from the love of his life, he had to change his bed as he could no longer sleep in there marital bed alone knowing TK wouldn’t slip in next to him.
(And she's still waiting on her dad to come home)
One 17th August Gee missed going out with her friends to the biggest concert of the year to spend the full 24 hours waiting by the front door as she had done for years before hand except today felt different. A light breeze was in the air blowing about the leaves that had come down in the thunderstorm a week before, they seemed to gather at the end of the driveway, she blinked and there he was. TK, he was stood there as real as you and me, he was smiling blowing her a kiss and clutching his hands over his mouth in immense pride, “Papa!” She shouted, Carlos rushed over and he saw it to. TK stayed just long enough to blow a kiss to Carlos then as quickly as the leaves brought him he left.
(But all she has left is a name on a stone)
(She's made peace with pain)
Many decades after that, Gee had a husband and children of her own, her son TK was the spit of his long departed grandad and Carlos swore the resemblance was unmistakable even down to the birthmark. TK was playing with Carlos one day in the garden, Carlos had been struggling with his health lately and was enjoying every last moment with his grandson. TK stopped playing out of nowhere saying, “Grandad loves you still grandpa,” confused Carlos asked, “And how do you know that little one?” “Because he scent me to tell you, he’s much happier now.” The whole conversation was unnerving.
Carlos combed his fingers through his greying curls, it was time. He made up the dinner table as he had done for there first anniversary and enjoyed TK’s favourite. Slipping neatly into bed Carlos felt warmth next to him for the first time in decades, turning over the un-aged familiar face smiled cheekily at him. He felt young again as he dove under the covers with the love of his life.
His sister visited the next morning and found him. But Carlos was long gone, he was with TK again.
Waking up in a start, dripping in sweat Carlos looked over and had to touch TK to ensure he wasn’t a hallucination but in doing so startled him awake. “What the hell Carlos!” TK quietly exclaimed but noticing his state immediately gripped Carlos’s hands, “You okay?” He asked, combing his curls out of his face simple comforting gestures, Carlos dove into his arms, “You died,” he stammered out, “You relapsed, went to rehab and died in rehab,” he cried, TK tenderly reassured Carlos laying them both back against the bed.