I remember you said you were scared (and so was I)

Chapter One

Carlos sighed happily as the warm air of his cruiser surrounded him. It was the coldest winter he's ever experienced. And he was doing it alone. No one to go home to; no one to cuddle up with near the fireplace (He didn't even have a fireplace), no one to snuggle up to in bed. He had it; then he didn't.

Carlos definitely thought TK was the one. They fit so well together, even if they were complete opposites. While TK was energetic, Carlos was calm. While TK was rowdy, Carlos was gentle. While Carlos loved, TK left. It hurt, well, of course it hurt. Carlos lost the man who he thought was his soul mate. It was four months ago, but God it still stung like hell when he finds some of TK's things still mixed with his, or when he'll come across old photos of them; Carlos's arm would usually be wrapped around TK's waist, and TK's lips would be pressed against Carlos's cheek. The other day, Carlos found a bottle of TK's favorite cologne in on of the boxes he hadn't unpacked yet - he was looking for his APD hoodie, which he found, and of course it smelt like TK. It was the hoodie he always went for when he had to work more than a twelve hour, or when Carlos was on the night shift and couldn't be home with TK.

The snow fell on his windshield but it was quickly wiped away. It was currently eight in the morning, and for the first time Carlos was not looking forward to going to work. He was just tired. Tired of pretending that he wanted to keep living without TK, because he's one hundred percent sure he can't, even if he tried to.

Carlos's radio goes off, calling for assistance for a high speed chase. With a small groan, Carlos responds. "This is 363-H-20, show me as responding." He pulls out of the station parking lot, flips the lights and sirens on, and starts driving. Of course people want to speed while inches of snow lay on the roads. Carlos knew by now that if a Texan wanted to do something, no matter the time of day or weather, they would find a way to do it. Even if it was dangerous. He merged onto the highway where a truck was going almost one hundred miles per hour, and currently still refusing to pull over. Thankfully, because no one else is crazy enough to drive in these conditions, the highway was mostly empty.

Carlos accelerated, passing two police cruisers, and channeled dispatch. "Dispatch, what's the plan here?" he asked. His car suddenly swerved to the right and he had to drop the radio to grip the steering wheel hard with both hands. When the car was stable again, the veins on his hands were visible and his knuckles were white. "Fuck," he gasped, his heart racing. He slowed down a couple miles.

A voice came over his radio. "Are you okay, Reyes? I saw your cruiser swerve." Carlos breathed out. He recognized that voice. Alex Carter, one of the guys he trained with, actually.

"Yeah, I'm fine." he gasped. "Holy shit," he muttered to himself. Carlos kept both of his hands on the steering wheel from that moment on. By now, there were around fifteen police officers speeding after the truck, and the piercing sounds of so many sirens were beginning to give Carlos a headache. Carlos could feel every time his cruiser bumped over clumps of compacted snow, his car bounced each time he hit one.

The Dispatcher's voice filled his surroundings. "Suspect is Michael Wright, age forty-five. He has four previous charges - two attempted armed robberies, one drunk and disorderly, and one charge of domestic abuse. Due to the snow, we're advising you to not use any tactics to slow him down, there's a good chance he'd lose control."

Carlos muttered a response, even though he knew they wouldn't hear him. He didn't really care at this point, Michael had already injured four civilians, and two of them were small children.

Carlos could feel his car swerve every time he accelerated slightly. It was a scary thing, Carlos thought. His heartbeat increased significantly, and he's sure if his Apple watch was monitoring his BPM, it would be alerting him every minute.

The radio in his cruiser crackled to life. "Wright usually worked with two other men, they served time in jail together after their first attempted robbery."

"Where are those two now?" a cop asked.

"Um-" Dispatch began.

"Guys!" A voice screamed into the radio. "Crap, there's two cars trying to run officers off the road! Either those are his guys, or some people who really hate cops!"

Carlos looked at his side view mirror and swore under his breath. "Damn it," Sure enough, two trucks were swerving hard toward cop cars, the new sound of tires screeching to a halt filled the air. A few had to stop on the side to prevent crashing. Carlos focused on Wright's car a couple miles ahead. He sped up again, not caring if his car slid.

When he looked back at the two cars, one was directly beside him. "Oh, fuck." he muttered. He slowed down in an attempt to decrease the damage. But the truck had smashed into the side of his car, hard. Carlos swerved out of control - the particularly slippery ice under his tires did nothing to help him - , his car hitting a light pole and tumbling into the deep ditch that had followed the road for miles.

Every bone in Carlos's body hurt, a wet liquid dripped down his entire body, and he let out a painful groan before everything went black.

There will be more chapters!