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It was impossible to look for stars in the night sky of Los Angeles. In his adolescence, Tim Bradford had tried on more than one occasion - in various locations, but there had always been too much light pollution from the city that constantly buzzed with life around him.
But even with this knowledge as an adult, it done nothing to deter him from looking towards the sky, for one of the fixed points.
There was something about staring up at the glowing orbs that had always caused a peace to wash over him. Tim had spent many a night in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, granules of sand surrounding him as far as the eye could see as he stared upwards at the trillions of stars that painted the night sky.
Tim thinks about those nights as he stares up at the twinkling lights of the airplane that flew overhead. Sometimes, on those long nights when he laid on top of the cooling sand, listening to the sounds of gunfire in the distance, he would think about the future.
About how, supposedly there was someone – a woman, who would bring out the best side of him. Other times he would think about the last time he saw Genny, think about the petty argument they had gotten into before he had left and what would happen to her, should he not live to see the light of day.
“Tim.”
The voice that whispered his name sounded like an old memory, beckoning unto him before it was carried away with the gentle breeze that caressed his skin.
Eagerly Tim followed the sound, slowly tearing his gaze away from the sky to turn his head as he searched for her.
He found the corners of his lips turning upwards as his stormy blue stare met her own.
She looked at him with a beaming grin of her own as she strolled over to where he laid. The whites of her teeth were only just visible, two rows in between lips that were painted the same shade of ruby red she had wore the last time he had laid eyes on her.
“Tim.” she uttered his name again with a passing sigh as she kneeled by his head. He watched as she raised a hand, her fingers carding through his hair and raking over his scalp as a warmth washed over him. Her touch was featherlike, and unlike anything he had felt before.
Softly, his grin turned into a smile as his head turned in the other direction. He blinked, the action feeling slow, heavy but no longer could he feel the blinding white pain he once had.
“Sergeant Bradford,” Aaron Thorsen was knelt on the other side, the young officer’s body hovering over his own.
Tim could tell that the younger officer was worried. Sweat lined his brow and his lips were parted, every breath falling past them ragged, uneven, from the adrenaline that pumped through his veins. The red and blue glow from flashing lights, highlighted his eyes that were blown wide with concern. They flitted back and forth, closely watching Tim’s face and glancing at the hands that were forcefully pressed against Tim’s side.
“Respectfully sir, you don’t get to die on me today.” he was a good kid who had his whole life, a whole future ahead of him. He was on the right path to becoming a detective and Tim knew without a doubt, that Aaron was going to be one of the finest the Mid-Wilshire division of the LAPD had ever seen. “If I let you die, then you’ll be seeing my ass joining you on the other side, when Lucy kills me.”
This was not the first time that Tim had heard of Aaron suspecting an early demise at the hands of his girlfriend. But unlike the last time they found themselves in peril, Tim had a premonition that this time was going to have a much different outcome.
The pressure being applied to the side of his chest, increased as the sound of echoing sirens grew near. Aaron shouted something over the ear-piercing squeal, articulating his plea loud enough that Tim found himself momentarily startling.
But the demand was not enough.
Tim struggled to keep his eyes open, the number of seconds between blinks increasing with every jagged breath as the woman above him gave him a reassuring smile.
“It’s ok, Timmy.” she whispered as her nails raked over his scalp.
And for some reason, Tim found himself believing her as he was welcomed into the darkness.
Lucy inhaled a deep breath of sterile air as she uncrossed her legs, only to lay them in the opposite direction.
It was too quiet.
Hospitals weren’t supposed to be this fucking quiet, right? Sure, the infirmaries were generally shadowed by death and filled to the brim with trauma, but they were also places full of life, and that one desperate word that people clung onto the most, hope.
Lucy shook her head. The level of noise that was or was not happening around her didn’t matter.
What mattered, was that she was currently the one desperately wishing for a miracle to happen.
What mattered, was what was happening right down the hall.
Lucy had been across the district, following up on the report of a larceny, when the call went out over the radio. Her ears had picked up on Aaron’s voice, authoritative and strong yet laced with distress as it crackled to life through the radio that was attached to her duty belt.
‘7-Adam-100. In need of an RA for an officer down, La Jolla and Whitworth, suffering a GSW to the torso. He is currently unconscious with agonal breathing.’
The ringing inside her ears increased tenfold, blocking out the rest of the transmission.
Deep down she knew.
If Aaron was the one relaying that an officer was down, there was only one officer it could logically be.
It was by some miracle that Lucy managed to maintain her composure and finish cataloguing the victims missing property on her report.
Lucy’s fear or rather, her recurring nightmare that periodically had her waking up in a cold sweat, was only confirmed when she began hearing their superiors check on scene. Never had she been more thankful than when she checked clear of the address.
She attempted to multitask, simultaneously navigating the busy city stress as she listened to the city radio mounted to the dash for any updates. At every red light the shop would hit, her fingers which were ever so nimble, would refresh the call log on her console. But the attempts had been futile.
That had been over two hours ago.
And the composure that Lucy had been projecting to those around her was rapidly dwindling.
Fuck.
Lucy inhaled deeply through her nose; her eyes slipping closed as she pressed her folded hands against lips that trembled.
Everything during these past two hours had become a blur. She had arrived at Saint Stephen’s to a handful of shops parked sporadically around the trauma bay, Tim’s personal escort to the hospital she knew.
The desk for the emergency room had been crowded, two overworked nurses doing everything they could to facilitate everyone’s needs before they directed her towards the other officers who waited in a room a few floors away.
She took the elevator, the remnants of her breakfast bar churning in her stomach as she made her way down the hall before her steps faltered in the doorway. There were half a dozen familiar faces standing around in the small waiting room, with only two occupying the black plastic chairs that lined the walls. She thought about turning around, her coworkers – friends, had yet to notice her arrival in the three seconds of her standing there. Her getaway could be clean, she could walk away now and go elsewhere in the hospital to suffer in her anguish.
But she was blindsided by a small set of arms winding around her body before she could consider anymore.
“I am so sorry.” Celina muttered lowly against the wool of Lucy’s uniform before taking a quick step back. Somehow, she managed to give the younger officer an appreciative nod of her head.
“How, um-” Lucy worried her bottom lip in between her teeth as all eyes turned towards her. “Do we know anything yet?”
John shifted on his feet, pursing his lips. “The nurse didn’t tell us much,” he sighed frustratingly. “He said they were prepping Tim for surgery, and that it could be a few hours before we know anything.”
Surgery.
The word ricocheted around the inside of her skull. Tim had undergone surgery to remove the projectile from his body before, this time would be no different, right? After all, Tim was active, healthy, and one of the most strong-willed people she had ever met.
Those three facts alone had to account for something.
Her gazed bounced around the bright room before falling to the brooding figure that stood in the corner. His arms were crossed over his chest, his jaw clenched together tightly as his body projected the very pent-up emotion he was feeling.
“Aaron,” Lucy knew he was blaming himself but the only person to blame here was the one who was in possession of the gun, the person who pulled the trigger. “What the hell happened?”
When chocolate brown eyes met her golden, Lucy could see the torment that raged behind them. But with an expertise, Aaron regaled her with the timeline of events, verbalizing it much like he would when putting his pen against paper.
They had been conducting a simple traffic stop when the routine call quickly went south. Aaron had come out of the ordeal unscathed but Tim had sustained at least one hit, the main bullet of concern being the one that landed to the side of where there was a lack of coverage from his vest .
“I triaged the wound until the RA could arrive on scene but-“ Lucy watched as he looked down at his clenched fists which were crusted with blood.
She looked away, swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat.
“No. Aaron don’t-“ her feet carried her further into the room until she stood before him, her voice cracking as she lowly spoke. “What happened, what happened wasn’t your fault.”
Lucy knew she could only speak to him in earnest, knew that her reassurances could only do so much to ease the war that waged in his mind. “Thank you for being there for him.”
Aaron avoided her stare, looking off distantly at something along the far wall, though that didn’t stop her from seeing his eyes which were glossed over. Impetuously, he nodded his head once before ultimately walking away.
“Angela and Wesley have cut their trip to Fresno short, and are on their way back. She says traffic depending, they should be here in a few hours.” John stated as Lucy turned around to find him reading a text message off his screen. He looked up from the phone to meet Lucy’s gaze. “What about Genny, has anyone contacted her?”
The breath Lucy was taking, caught in her lungs.
“I’ll call her.” she quickly asserted as John raised a brow. “She um, Genny took the boys to visit their father, I’m sure she will want to be on the next flight out.”
Lucy knows without a doubt, that Genny will be on the next possible flight out.
John nodded his head as the sound of their radios crackling to life, simultaneously filled the room.
“We all can’t be here.” he spoke apologetically, remorsefully as he licked his lips in apprehension. But he was right. There was no need for all of them to be here when there were no updates to be had. “Will you be-?”
“Yes, go!” Was it terrible that she found herself thankful for the reprieve? Besides, it went without acknowledgment that there was no way in hell that Lucy would be returning to the streets today. “Go, I’ll be fine.”
She could tell that John had something else he wanted to say, but luckily, he chose wisely and went with something else. “I’ll have Celina bring in your change of clothes, before taking your shop back to Wilshire.”
That had been two hours ago.
Lucy had been here for over two fucking hours, sitting under fucking artificial lights, in the fucking silence.
Could anyone blame her for the slight grudge that she was holding?
A nurse had stopped by over an hour ago with an update. The surgery was going well so far and would take a few more hours, but the bullet that struck his lung, spleen, and a part of his intestines had resulted in severe blood loss, enough to necessitate a transfusion.
Tim was critical, but stable and they were optimistic that he would pull through.
Lucy slumped in the chair with a sigh, her body deflating as she quickly typed out another response to the group chat. She loved the support and care that her found family had for one another, but sometimes, it could become a bit too much.
She pressed send and dropped her phone fell into her lap, her gaze flitting around the empty room.
Earlier that morning, the last thing on Lucy’s mind was what the rest of the day would hold.
“We could just call in sick.”
“Call in sick, huh?” Lucy hummed in amusement as her fingers trailed lazily along his back. “Since when are you one to call in sick, baby.”
There were a handful of ways that Lucy enjoyed waking up Tim; this, being in her top three.
He had been peacefully asleep on his stomach, his right hand tucked underneath the pillow under his head when she moved to straddle him. She rested her scantily covered ass over the small of his back, her knees falling beside either of his hips. Her ministrations had started off slow, fingers kneading into his shoulders leisurely until he joined the land of the living. Lowly did Tim moan as she rocked her hips, rubbing tight circles right below the nape of his neck, down to the space between his shoulder blades and his spine, occasionally moving lower to the dimples of his back.
“Maybe since my girlfriend, is determined on us staying in this fucking bed.”
Lucy tossed her hair over one shoulder as she leaned over to press her lips against the smooth, tanned skin of his back. She worked her way towards his ear, the tips of the strands brushing against his skin as she whispered, “Your girlfriend is definitely determined on fucking something.”
With ease Tim twisted his body underneath her, moving onto his back. He was smirking as the tips of his fingers ghosted over her thighs, his touch eliciting a shiver from deep within before he grasped her hips.
“We could call in sick,” he had reiterated again as she rotated her hips in circle. “Have all the time in the world.”
“As much as I would love to spend all day in bed with you,” Lucy sniggered as her body rose onto her knees. “I thought we agreed to save our sick days for something else.”
Reaching behind she took him in the palm of her hand, lining herself up as she watched his tongue dart out to wet his lips. “It’s one day.”
“A day we could spend in a different bed, baby; in a different state.”
It was a gruesome thought, but thinking about it now, it seemed as though Tim would be using a couple weeks’ worth of leave after all.
A resonating sound in the hospital hallway brought Lucy out of her memory as her gaze flew intently towards the door. She held her breath, hoping for news, but dejectedly did she release the same breath when her sight came up empty.
It wasn’t that difficult to provide someone with an update, right? Someone at the nurses station had to know something.
Grabbing her phone as she stood, the device vibrated in her hand.
‘Traffic on the 5 is a bitch, and my husband will only go so much over the speed limit. We will be there within the hour.’ Angela had sent as Lucy glanced towards the clock in the corner of her screen. The time parameter that their friend had set would be cutting it close, considering rush hour was just starting. ‘Or I will divorce him.’
Her chest rumbled as the joke made her woefully laugh. If she didn’t laugh, Lucy was afraid she would cry, and there was no time for tears right now.
“Lucy Chen?”
Lucy’s head snapped towards the direction of the unfamiliar voice. A nurse in navy scrubs stood in the open doorway, their red hair curly and unruly.
“Yes?” she acknowledged as she stood.
“I’m Jessi, one of the nursing assistants down in the ER. Per protocol, one of the officers that escorted Sergeant Bradford in, confiscated his belt and camera shortly after his arrival,” The nurse stated as they moved further into the room. “But they left the rest of his belongings behind. Do you-?”
Lucy eyed the large white bag and blue ballistic vest in their hand. “No,” softly she shook her head, stumbling over her words. “I mean yes, I can take it.”
“There was not much of his uniform that could be saved, but everything is in there.”
The two exchanged a few more words, the nurse promising to attempt their best in finding out an update, before Lucy unceremoniously fell backwards into the chair she had previously vacated. Sitting the vest onto the seat beside her, she placed the bag onto the ground between her feet.
The nurse had been right, the wool uniform was encrusted with blood and roughly cut in two. Undeniably the clothing was by no means salvageable, not that he would want to save anything, but Lucy made sure to remove his nameplate, badge, and the chevron patch from the shoulder. She emptied the left breast pocket, removing the silver pen and black notepad before moving onto his pants.
Lucy turned out both the pockets, extracting his city issued phone – making a mental note to retrieve his personal one, before moving on for his money clip and the metal ring that was weighted down with various keys. The subtle tightness in her chest that had been lingering, became more pronounced as she placed all the objects inside the outside pocket of the go bag that held her own uniform.
Closing her eyes, her bottom lip trembled as she took a deep breath in through her nose. Quickly she counted to ten before releasing the same breath out through her mouth, doing this once, twice, three times. It was an exercise Lucy had learned before she was seven and normally the technique worked, but today the tension in her chest never eased.
Lucy knew exactly what she needed, or rather who she needed to put her worries at ease, but her exigency was unattainable.
Suddenly she stood. Her next available and best option was to just go; go where, she did not know but vaguely she recalls passing a glass door down the hall that led to a balcony. But she knows that the moment she steps out of the room that someone would come by with an update.
“Fucking hell.” Her voice rasped as she pressed the palms of her hands against her eyes.
Of course there was a dilemma to her own predicament. She was anything but surprised. Tim and herself had after all, worked their way though countless hurdles to get to where they were today, what was one more?
The sound of something falling to the ground behind her, had her brow creasing as she turned around, finding Tim’s ballistic vest, now laying by her feet. Picking it up by the shoulder strap, gravity twisted the material around as she examined the protective equipment. What had once been a pristine blue vest, was now tarnished with an irregular stain that had become dry and brown.
Lucy laid the woven fabric across in her lap, running her finger along the seam. Aaron had told her Tim had sustained at least one hit, but seeing the bullet that was lodged into the metal plate opposite of where he had sustained the life-threatening injury, made the entire situation more surreal.
The possibility of being injured was always there, that was a hazard or a rather a risk that came with the job, but the probability was astronomical.
There were times where both Tim and Lucy went days without firing their weapons or finding themselves caught up in a precarious situation. Other times, there would be weeks where it seemed as though they were discharging their weapons every single shift.
Gathering the lifesaving equipment into both her hands, Lucy moved to set it with the rest of their belongings. It was obvious that the vest was no longer of use and would need to be handed off to someone at Mid-Wilshire to be disposed of properly, but her ministrations paused when the flash of something white and paper like, protruding from the pocket that holds the trauma plate, caught her attention.
Her curiosity increased tenfold as she gently tugged it free of its confinement.
Lucy had an idea as to what she had discovered, the nondescript paper was thick and folded in half for ease of storage. Her suspicions were only confirmed when with quivering fingers, she undone the crease in the middle to reveal a photograph.
A photograph of her.
Her head was held up by the palm of her left hand as she looked away from the camera. She was wearing a dark gray sweater with one of her favorite wool winter jackets, a chevron piece she bought one paycheck on a whim which helped in narrowing the date of the image’s origin, down. Her coffee-colored locks were straightened but pulled back into a low bun, golden hoops adorned either of the ear lobes and a simple band adorned the ring finger of her right hand.
Tim had taken the picture on a date night, that much she is certain of, but when or where, Lucy failed in placing. Not that it mattered anyways.
What mattered, was that Tim kept a candid image of her in the center of his vest.
What mattered, was that Tim was carrying a piece of her, a reminder, with him always.
What mattered, was that the picture was well loved, and kept right next to Tim’s heart.
The truth was like a blow to the chest, knocking the breath out of her lungs as the dam of emotions that she had been holding back, burst. The tears rolled down the slope of her cheeks, one, two, until they formed a wet stream as she whimpered, her sobs wracking her body until it became difficult to breathe.
Lucy had no idea.
How could she?
Openly she wept, holding the photo close as the uncertainty of Tim’s condition left her mourning for the man who had long since taken a large portion of her own heart. It was selfish, grieving over something that was not yet lost, but the weight bared down on her chest.
Years of trials and tribulations could be gone in a matter of seconds.
But as the time passed, her errant thoughts kept coming back to one question, a question that broke something inside of her each and every time.
What if she never got one more time to him just how much she loved him?
Eventually a hushed “No.” reached her ears as her head snapped towards the door.
“Lucy,” Lucy could see as she grew near that the brown eyes that were typically overly inquisitive, were now wide and glossy with tears. “Tim. No, he can’t-“
Angela’s body crashed into her own, her frame landing awkwardly in the seat beside her as arms curled tightly around Lucy’s body. Lucy reached for her, her arms winding around the back of the woman in front of her, hands fisting against Angela’s back as she pressed herself into the nape of the other woman’s neck.
“No, Angela, Tim is not-“ she cleared away the lump that had formed in the throat that was roughened from tears. “Tim’s not dead.”
Urgently Angela pulled back, her hands moving to Lucy’s shoulders as her gaze searched for any sign of dishonesty. “He’s not?” Angela breathed a sigh of relief with a brilliant smile. Lucy wiped away the tears tracks on her cheeks. “He’s ok?”
“He’s still in surgery,” Lucy’s teeth dug into her bottom lip as she spoke adamantly with her hands. “I’m- we are just waiting for an update.”
She sniffled, glancing down at the black watch on her left wrist. It was nearing the two hour mark since she had last received an update, the nurse from earlier never returning with the news that was promised. They should have heard something by now.
But no news was good news, right?
Wrong.
“I’m going to find out what’s going.” Lucy took one last glance at the picture still in her hand as she stood, ignoring Angela’s scrutiny that burned her skin. She folded it back in half, sliding it into the pocket of her leggings until it could be returned to its rightful owner.
Tim and herself were no longer keeping the status of their relationship a secret, but their relationship wasn’t something they regularly advertised.
Making her way to the door with Angela hot on her heels, Lucy formulated what she would say. She knows that the hospital was oftentimes like a buzzing hive and just as chaotic as holding at Mid-Wilshire, but there was no excuse for going three hours without receiving information on Tim’s condition.
She was about to turn the corner when a question had her steps faltering.
“Family for Tim Bradford?” her heart pounded in her chest as she studied the flustered person in front of her. Based off the scrubs and surgical cap the man still wore, Lucy assumes the person to be one of his doctors.
“That would be us.”
He was younger, Asian, tall and skinny in stature.
“I’m Doctor Lewis-“
Angela interjected, crossing her arms. “Why haven’t we heard anything?”
“That would be because we ran into a minor complication with one of our internal medicine residents during surgery.” The doctor chortled. “Tim’s surgery was a success, and we expect him to make a full recovery. As one of our nurses told you earlier, the bullet struck part of his lung, spleen and part of his intestines which resulted in a massive blood loss.”
Lucy reached blindly beside her for Angela’s hand, holding it tightly in her grasp. “So he’s going to be ok?”
“Pending no complications arising or infections, I expect him to make a full recovery. In addition to the bullet Tim sustained to his side, we also discovered three fractured ribs from the bullet he took to his vest but those should heal over time.” Lucy found herself chortling in relief as tears welled in her eyes, the reality of the situation, of just how close he had come, settled inside her. “The nurses are getting him settled in ICU to monitor his healing for the coming days and with improvement, we will be able to move him down to a normal room before discharging him.”
“And his recovery?”
“We can go over all that information before discharge, but it just depends on the patient. Some recover miraculously within four months, while others take three times as long.
But if he is as dedicated as I am led to believe, I would say he could return to light weight and desk duty in fourteen to sixteen weeks.”
“Fourteen to sixteen weeks?” Angela snorted before turning her head towards Lucy. “You’re going to need all the help you can get.”
The doctor raised an inquisitive brow as Lucy provided him with an understated explanation. “Tim, he’s not exactly known for being static.”
Taking the time to answer a few more of their questions, Doctor Lewis informed them that it would be another hour before they were allowed back to intensive care unit to see him. It was an hour that Lucy was certain would pass by slowly, but thanks to the distraction of making numerous phone calls it felt as though she blinked, and suddenly she was standing in the middle of a hospital room.
“I’m gonna go call Wesley again,” Angela stated without explanation, but Lucy was only partially listening as she stared at the bed in front of her.
Tentatively Lucy moved closer, her heart fracturing a little more with every step as her brain categorizing everything her eyes could see. Tim laid on his back, his body prone, motionless, save for the repeated falling and raising of his chest.
The sun kissed skin that her fingers had danced across earlier that morning was sickly pale and washed out by the white hospital gown. Tentatively he reached out for him, her fingers trembling as they felt the warmth of his face, running gently through the dirty blonde strands that had fallen flat.
His beating heart, strong and resilient, echoed throughout the room as her touch trailed down his face and the length of his arm before she laced their fingers together.
Lucy doesn’t know if it was for his sake or her own when she brokenly whispers, “You’re going to be ok baby.” But it was a statement she was finding it difficult to believe.
The next three days held a steady rotation of friends and family as they each took on self-imposed shifts, making sure that someone was always there by his side and that he was rarely ever alone.
That first night, Wesley had brought Lucy a fresh change of clothes – and some takeout that went uneaten, along with the necessities when he came by to pick up Angela.
The very next morning, John picked up Genny and the boys from the airport, bringing the youngest Bradford sibling to Saint Stephen’s, only after they dropped the kids off with a friend.
Nyla and James came by later that afternoon, the couple evicting Lucy and Genny from the hospital until they could each attain a few hours of rest.
The Mid-Wilshire group managed to maintain a steady rotation, Angela and Wesley, Nyla and James, John and Bailey, with Aaron, Celina, and Tamara thrown sporadically into the mix but Lucy could not have been more thankful as she realized their small family had almost doubled over the past few years.
Soon it was day three – well, day four if you really wanted to get technical about it - roughly seventy-eight hours since post operation and things were finally starting to look promising.
Over the last day they had gradually begun to decrease the sedative and Tim’s care team reassured her that he was responding well. It was because of those encouraging facts, that they had removed him from the ventilation system the evening before.
Lucy stood on the other side of Tim’s new room, staring out the single-pane window that overlooked the emergency room and the helipad which sat empty as she listened to the soft, steady breaths coming from behind her. This room was bigger than the last, allowing space for more visitors which she supposes is a good thing based on what she had been viewing in the group chat; it seemed as though later this evening they would be expecting a full house.
But only if Tim was up for some visitors.
She looked around at the blanket of clouds that had rolled in from the Pacific Ocean overnight, the moisture in the air causing the bright lights that normally illuminated the awakening city, to be cast in a warm glow before her gaze fell towards the reflection of the room in the corner of the glass.
Over the past few hours, Tim had come around a handful of short-lived times and the first time Lucy’s brown met his glazed over blue, she couldn’t help but cry.
With weary eyes she looked down, a soft smile forming on her face, as she took in the small bouquet of donut balloons that sat in a glass vase in the windowsill.
‘Leave it to Smitty,’ she thought with a yawn as she shoved either of her hands into the pocket of her oversized pullover.
She could use a weeks’ worth of sleep, but sleep was not a word that Lucy found herself to be overly intimate with as of late.
There had been a handful of times where she had managed to doze, her eyes involuntarily fluttering closed while she occupied the chair at Tim’s bedside or when their friends had essentially evicted her from the hospital to go home. Except, Lucy didn’t go home, not to her apartment anyways. Instead, Lucy had found herself curled up in Tim’s bed with her head resting upon his pillow, holding it close as she breathed in the scent of his aftershave and shampoo.
Lucy was lost in thought when the sound of her name, brought her out of her trance.
“Luce.”
Her eyes grew wide at the sound of his gruff voice.
“Tim.” she breathed, turning around quickly to find a pair of drowsy blue eyes to be staring back at her.
Three large and hurried steps was all it took for her to be back by his bedside.
Tim was groggy, his blinks slow and languid but unlike the other times he had awaken, this time he looked more lucid.
“Hey.” she breathed a sigh of relief with a laugh, tears welling in either of her eyes before they trailed down the slope of her cheek. Lucy wanted nothing more in that moment than to hug him, to climb up in the bed beside him, and never let him go. But instead, she was forced to settle with taking the slope of his jaw into the palm of her hand, brushing her thumb against the days old stubble as he melted into her touch. “Hey, you’re ok.”
“Don’t-“ Tim grimaced, Lucy’s hand fell away as he took a deep breath in, attempting to readjust the position of his body before ultimately ceasing the task. “Fuck.”
She reached for his hand she sat down onto the disheveled linen of his bed, squeezing the calloused limb once, receiving a gentle compression in return.
“You need to take it easy,” she spoke earnestly which garnered her an exhausted glare as she chuckled. “You’ve just been through major abdominal surgery baby, you need the rest.”
He brokenly mumbled, “Shit fucking hurts.”
“I know it does,” Lucy placed a chaste kiss to his lips. “But we should probably let someone know that you’re awake, hmm?”
Over the next hour a swarm of doctors and nurses passed through the room, preforming exams, checking bandages and administering medications before they were finally left alone for more than a few minutes.
“Hey, what do you think about-“ Lucy began to ask upon stepping out of the bathroom but the question faltered as she looked towards Tim.
He laid on the bed before her with his sock covered toes, popping out from underneath the light blue blanket that covered his body. His eyes were closed, and his head was lulled to the side with parted lips.
Softly she smiled while her heart skipped a beat.
Quietly ambling towards the bed, Lucy righted the blanket over his feet before running her hand over his body towards his chest, stopping above the center of his chest as she pulled the hem higher.
She could feel his heart beat as it drummed underneath her fingertips, a steady thump, thump, thump.
Tim was alive, he was breathing on his own, but more importantly he was going to be ok.
Leaning over the edge of the bed, she gently pressed her lips against his temple which caused him to stir, but not enough to waken.
With the peace of mind that everything was going as right as they could be, Lucy curled up in the chair at his bedside. She tucked her knees up to her chest, resting them in between her body and the arm of the chair. The position was less than ideal, her spine bent awkwardly in a way that she was sure it would leave an ache at the top of her neck, but Lucy didn’t have the energy in her to care, she was just thankful to catch a few hours of restless slumber.
The rest of the day passed by without much excitement, well… too much excitement.
“I can hear you laughing.” Tim’s grumble from the other side of the bathroom door reached her ears.
Lucy stood with her back pressed against the wall beside the bathroom door that had been left cracked open. Amused, she shook her head. If she was to peek through the opening, she knew exactly what she would find.
Tim would be sitting on the shower chair in the corner, his head tilted upwards with closed eyes, just begging for a ceiling tile to fall from the rafters and render him unconscious, as one of his nurses cleansed his body with an antiseptic.
If she had to guess, he would mentally be running through a section of penal codes or ranking the Dodgers batting order from best to worst.
Lucy had asked him one time as they basked in the afterglow, what his preferred method of taking care of the not so little issue, was. It had been late, and unlike Tim, sleep for her had been futile which was more than likely the cause of her hearty laughter but ultimately, he had confessed.
“I’m not laughing.”
She was.
“Bullshit.”
Tim’s care team had wanted to get him up and moving to prevent something worse from settling in. And what better way to do that, then by moving his daily antiseptic sponge bath to the bathroom?
“No, hilarious was Aaron humming the Batman theme song for a week straight anytime he was around you, baby.” she pursed her lips, picturing Tim rolling his eyes. That was a call neither of them would be forgetting anytime soon. “Mary,” Lucy called out loudly to the nurse that was tasked with the job of bathing her boyfriend. “Maybe you should tell Tim about Mr. Hernandez four rooms down. I think they would make for a great team, don’t you?”
Lucy covered her mouth with her hand as the nurse questioned with the most impassive of voices, “You wouldn’t happen to know the lyrics to Islands in the Stream, would you?”
Tim didn’t know how long he had been asleep when he finally startled awake from the horrors of his dream, but there were a few facts he did know.
One, it was mid-afternoon.
Two, his right hand was numb.
And three, he loathed medication induced nightmares.
He breathed in through his nose, taking in a breath of fresh, sterile, air in an attempt to calm his racing heart. But instead, the motion pulled at the sutures of his stomach.
“Fuck.” he grumbled through the grit of his teeth as he moved his hand to instinctively clutch the healing wound. But the numb limb was more than difficult to budge.
With sleep ridden eyes Tim glanced downward, finding a hand holding his own, her fingers curled yet relaxed overtop of his own. Her forehead rested on top of his arm, pressed against his skin in between his hand and elbow in such a way, that Tim knew would need to be massaged out later. It was a bleary sight, but it sent a warmth through him that caused the beat of his racing heart to steadily return to normal.
Leave it to his girlfriend to find his arm the more comfortable choice, than resting her head upon the mattress or pressed against the side of the chair.
But four days of worry, anxieties, and no rest, would take its toll on anyone.
The cause of her exhaustion wasn’t anyone’s fault but his own, not that he woke up four mornings ago expecting to take a bullet to his body, but still, Tim feels some kind of responsibility for putting her in this position. Even if this was one of the hazards of the job they both signed up for it.
If Tim was being honest with himself, he was actually a bit relieved that Lucy had finally succumbed to slumber. Earlier, before falling into a slumber of his own, he had been formulating a plan on how to sweet talk whoever his nurse would be later that night, into letting Lucy climb up in the bed beside him.
Her lips were parted, a mess of brown locks falling over her face in a disheveled tangle that left his fingers itched to push them backwards.
If only he could.
But Tim was sure if he was to listen closely, he would be able to hear those soft snores that oftentimes had him elbowing her in the ribs.
Heaving a sigh, his tongue darted out to wet his dry lips before he quietly began to mumble her name.
An hour later found Tim easing his aching body, back down onto the bed. He winced and grumbled and let out a curse or two.
“Wes and Angela are picking up the food, but they should be here shortly.” Lucy slipped her phone into the pocket on her leggings. “Are you sure you’re up for some company?”
Tim pursed his lips, giving her an incredulous look as she patted at the pocket of her left leg. “Even if I say no Luce, we both know that Angela and Genny will find a way to force their way in here.”
She snickered, sitting down on the edge of the bed as her hand landed softly against his knee, squeezing once. “And yet you love both of them anyway.”
“Debatable.”
Moving her hands in her lap, Tim watched as she leaned forward. He met her halfway, sliding a hand into her hair, fingers tightening into the strands as she captured his lips with her own.
One of her hands wrapped around the base of his neck, her thumb moving rhythmically through the finite hairs. She kisses him long and slow and deep until he lets out a groan from the burning of his lungs.
Suddenly Lucy moved to pull away, but Tim chased her soft lips with his own, pressing his tongue against her mouth which welcomed him, before he was forced to withdraw for much needed air.
He rested his forehead against her own, their chests rising and falling unevenly as he opened his eyes to find a beautiful brown with specks of umber, looking back at him.
Lucy bit at the corner of her lip, her gaze imploring, unwavering, and tainted with an uncertainty. Tim had known her too long and knew her too well to know when something was on her mind but that didn’t stop the feeling of dread from settling in his stomach as he pulled away. He folded his hands in his lap, “You want to talk about it?”
Tim watched as she heaved a heavy sigh, the swollen skin she worried between her teeth breaking free, “I have something that belongs to you,” he could feel his brow creasing as she reached for the pocket of her leggings, retrieving the item that was well worn and fit in the palm of her hand. “I found this,” his piqued curiosity turned into a soft, warm grin, knowing exactly what she was holding in her hand, “in the front of your vest and thought you may want it back.”
Tim fails in understanding why she is being diplomatic, it wasn’t like him keeping a picture of her was some big secret, but he supposes in a way, this one was.
He reaches for the photo as he speaks, “You remember that warrant I had to serve a few weeks after I joined Metro?” the image remained unblemished, looking no different than when he had last looked at it a few days ago as Lucy lowly hummed, “You mean the one that sounded like something straight out a movie, or the one where you had to play the knight in shining armor?”
“Actually, I prefer knight in shining Kevlar.” Lucy rolled her eyes as he released a breathy chortle, “I’m talking about the second one, though I’m surprised you remember the Thompson case.”
Those first few months of settling into a new position, a new routine, on top of maintaining their relationship, had been rather difficult for both of them.
But together they made it through.
“It made national news baby.”
Tim shrugged. That was kind of cool.
“Luce,” his tongue darted out to wet his lips as he weighed exactly what he wanted to say, “There were times that night, where I didn’t know if I was going to make it out alive and all I could think,” but now that Tim thought about the truth, he let out a low laugh of disbelief. “All I could think about was how much I wanted to see you one last time.”
Tim trusted his team with his life, and he trusted them that night that they were going to get themselves out of the precarious situation they had been forced into without losing one of their own; but in this line of work, nothing, especially tomorrow, was ever promised.
“That’s why I carry it with me, to remind myself to always make it back to you.”
Tim blinked and suddenly his body was being pressed firmly into the foam behind him, her arms encompassing him as his hands went to her back, pulling her close and holding her so tightly that they were nearly one person. A few rouge tears escape his eyes as he pressed his lips to the side of her head, and he has to wipe at his face quickly with the back of his hand when they finally let each other go.
Tentatively Lucy took his face into her hand, her thumb running along the days old stubble, “You, are never allowed to die on me Tim Bradford.”
He chuckled. “I think you’ve got that backwards sweetheart;” Tim could only hope as he placed a kiss to the inside of her wrist, that when the time comes, they were both old and gray. “But if something does ever happen to me, I want you to promise me something,”
“Tim,”
“Promise that someday, you’ll find someone who loves you as much as I do.”
After a moment she hummed, whispering a low vow as her gaze softened. “But nothing is going to happen.”
“I know.” he pulled on her wrist gently, bringing her body towards his, where she fit perfectly in the crook of his arm.
“You have to promise too.”
He wasn’t sure that was a promise he could keep, but he whispered the words anyways. “I promise baby.”
Lucy raised her head from where it laid. “You’re a fucking liar.”
Tim could feel his brow as it arched, “And you’re not?”
He had a point and they both knew it.
“I love you.” she told him with the roll of her eyes though her knowing grin contradicted the action.
He pulled her a little closer, “I know you do, I love you too.”