Chapter Text
Lucy Chen loved Tim’s relationship with Angela’s daughters. Even after knowing him for so many years, it was refreshing to see his soft and gooey side. It was a side he only seemed to show to Angela’s family. Once she’d thought he might show that side to her, but that time had passed.
“She looks like my friend Lucy, but prettier,” She loved that the little girl referred to her as ‘my friend Lucy’. She wanted to get up and see the pictures Tim was showing her, but things had been so strange between her and Tim since she was shot.
“That’s my friend, Lucy, almost,” Lucy Evers proclaimed, “My friend Lucy has blood on her neck, but she wears a uniform in that picture just like you do and sometimes Mommy,” That was strange. Normally when she watched the girl she was wearing street clothes. She looked down and was surprised to see that she was actually wearing her uniform. Out of curiosity, she touched her neck where she had been shot four years before. She flinched as her fingers touched something wet and sticky. That was weird.
“If they look so much alike then maybe they’re the same person,” The preschooler looked up at Tim, “Do you still see your friend Lucy?”
“No, I don’t,”
“Why not?” The detective's daughter continued her line of questioning, “Why?”
Lucy was eager to hear Tim explain to a four-year-old that he’d been ghosting her since she’d told him she was going undercover after she recovered from her injury (and at this point, it felt like that would never happen), “She got hurt really badly,”
“Do you miss her?” Lucy really wanted to know her former TO’s answer to this question.
“I do,” Something in his eyes cut right through her. He did miss her. It was strange to her because they still saw each other from time to time, but he never acknowledged her. She’d been sitting next across the table from him for 30 minutes and he never even looked her in the eye. Little Lucy seemed to be the only one to want anything to do with her.
She locked eyes with her namesake. She wasn’t above using a child to make sure she was heard, “Tell your Uncle Tim that I miss him and I’ll be all better soon,”
“No, I’m not going to be able to see her again,” His blue eyes weren’t cold or hard like she’d expect with anger, but rather wet like he was about to cry.
Lucy touched her neck again, turning her focus away from the two people sitting across from her. Her fingers found a hole in her carotid artery. If that was where she shot she would’ve bled out in less than 2 minutes. No. That wasn’t possible. She’d survived.
She closed her eyes and went back to that day in her mind. She was laying on the cool grass with hot blood pouring out of the wound on her neck. She could hear Jackson call her name as he secured their suspect. She could see Tim running up to her, calling her name, and putting his hands over her wound to stop the bleeding. He had saved her again. But he hadn’t. She watched from somewhere above her body as he took his hands off her neck.
She was dead. Even though she was still somehow walking around thinking she was alive. She was dead.