Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

'Once upon a time, there lived a prince. As a young boy, the prince knew the love and care his parents gave him, but as he grew older he started to feel something else, or maybe, someone else. 

The Queen had told him long ago, that if he was lucky, he would one day recognize his soulmate. The partner he was destined to traverse life with.

"Sleep my little prince, for one day you'll feel the person you're meant to be with. You may not know them to see them, but you'll know who they are at their core, for you will have known their most intimate self."

"But mother, if I haven't seen my companion, how will I know who they are?"

"That's the magic, sweet prince. You will come to feel the way they feel. When your companion is happy, or sad, you will also feel happy or sad. That's the beauty of the connection." 

As the prince grew older, he often thought about what - '

"Lucille Elizabeth Chen! You better not have your nose in that book again, you have an exam next week!" 

Lucy sighed as she heard her mother yell up the stairs and set aside the aforementioned book that yes, she had been reading. The Royal Connection had always been a source of comfort for her, a gift from and a reminder of her Aunt Amy's love and support. Through the pages of the book, Lucy could escape into a world of elegance, sophistication and romance - a world that was often lacking in her own life.

As she sat there, lost in thought, Lucy couldn't help but reflect on the lessons that the book had taught her. The importance of family, the value of tradition and the power of love - all the things she dreamed of having in her own life one day. 

Her parents had never entertained her romanticism of soulmates, they rarely even talked about it all actually. Anything Lucy had ever learned had been from her Aunt Amy. Amy had always told her that there was no set age or time when one might begin to feel their soulmate - it is believed that this happens when the soul is ready and open to the experience. 

“It’s a powerful connection, Lucy,” her Aunt had explained, “When your soulmate's emotions are heightened, you may even be able to catch a glimpse of what they are feeling and experiencing. It’s called projecting.” Amy’s expression sombered, and her voice softened before continuing. “The things you see may not always be pleasant, and your soulmate may not be aware of when or what they project to you. But you’ll know it’s coming if you pay close attention. It’s like their emotions swell within you, and when you feel like they might overtake you, that’s when the projection happens. At least, that’s how it is for me.” 

That was when she was 10 years old. Amy had sat her down saying she needed to explain the connection sooner than later because Lucy was an old soul, and would feel her soulmate soon. 

She was right, shortly after her eleventh birthday Lucy began to feel things within herself that hadn't been there before. She knew it was her soulmate, almost immediately. It was like a piece of a puzzle had clicked into place within her. 

He was troubled, she knew that much. During the day, she often felt a sense of relief wash over her. The evenings were different, usually her soulmate would feel anxious, and agitated, some nights worse than others. 

The first time he projected, Lucy was on the bus going home from school. All of a sudden she felt a rush, through her toes, straight up to her head and back down to her chest, where it tightened. Fear consumed her.

She blinked, and saw a woman huddled against a wall. Lucy could see the woman whimpering, but couldn't hear her. A spark of outrage ignited deep within her. *Blink* her gaze shifted, and a man, clearly drunk, was waving a broken bottle, and yelling, but Lucy still could not hear him. Anger burned deep within her *Blink* She tackled the man to the ground, and caught a glimpse of the woman scrambling to get away. *Blink* She was punching him. Everywhere she could reach she was releasing a barrage of punches. *Blink* Her world flipped as she was now looking up at the angered man, a paralysing wave of terror surged through her, as she covered her face with crossed arms.

"Stop, please! No! You have to stop!" Someone was screaming, who was screaming?

Lucy gradually became aware of her surroundings, and a chilling realization washed over her. It was her own desperate screams she had heard. At some point during the projection she must have fallen to the floor because she was now curled, hugging her legs close to her chest, rocking back and forth. Uncontrollable tears streamed down her face as she gasped for breath.

"Honey, you have to breathe. Come on, deep breaths." Someone was holding her hand, and brushing hair out of her face. She looked up into the kind brown eyes of the girl talking to her. "Was that your first projection?"

Lucy could only nod as she tried to compose herself.

"Remember, they can feel us too. Take a deep breath, if you calm yourself they'll feel that too. Help them, focus." 

Lucy didn't remember the name of the girl who had helped her, only that her eyes were warm and caring, and she had coached her through her first projection. She never forgot the advice she was given.

Some nights her soulmate would be so distressed, and frightened. Those were the nights where Lucy would stop everything she was doing, close her eyes, and start to sing. She would usually choose a lullaby, or something equally as soothing. She didn't know for sure if it helped him or not, but she hoped it did. 

The next projection came when she was twelve. She recognized the signs this time though. The rush of adrenaline through toes, up to her head, to her chest, and her chest tightening. Relief, excitement, and anticipation coursed through her. 

She blinked, and saw a letter. You have been accepted to the United States Military Service .

And just like that the projection was over. It happened so fast she couldn't see the name the letter had been addressed to, but she now knew her Soulmate was to be a soldier. 

A few years passed by before her next projection, she was 16. This time she didn't have the rush of adrenaline she had come to expect… she was sleeping, the projection invaded her dream, easily penetrating her unconscious.

The first rays of daybreak had barely pierced the horizon, he was sprinting with desperation, causing dirt to explode in jagged clumps around him, while grains of sand relentlessly assaulted his eyes. Terror flew through Lucy, but she was powerless to do anything, stuck in the projected dream. 

With each heart pounding moment he remained dangerously exposed, his breathless sprint ending as he dove for cover behind a weathered outbuilding. His fingers clutched a firearm with fierce determination. 

In the midst of it all, Lucy could hear every detail as though she were there herself. The sounds of his laboured frantic breaths, the harsh winds whipping around him, and gunfire drawing nearer and nearer.

Lucy's eyes snapped open, her forehead glistening with sweat and her heart racing as the terrifying images of her soulmate's reality replayed in her mind. She reached out a trembling hand and fumbled for the switch of her lamp. Taking a deep breath to steady her mind, and body, she got out of bed and padded to her window. It was still dark, the stars high in the sky, she glanced over to the clock sitting in the corner of her room, the soft glow of the light indicating it was only 10:15. She had only been asleep a short while. 

Opening her window, she sat on the floor next to it taking deep breaths of the cool night air, grounding herself by running her fingers through the coarse carpet she sat on. This was the first time she was able to hear what was happening to her soulmate during a projection, and she wondered what that meant for their bond. She was just about to start humming a song, when that telltale rush of adrenaline happened again. Another projection. Desperation consumed her, and she blinked.

He was kneeling, his hands firmly pressed against the chest of a fellow soldier. Blood seeped between his trembling fingers. "Will! Will, common man, stay with me buddy, don't let go." He pleaded "We promised we'd get each other home." *Blink* Pressing two fingers gently against the man's neck, checking for a pulse. His own harsh breathing the only sound breaking the silence. *Blink* His shaking, bloodstained hand reached to tenderly close the lifeless eyes of his fallen brother.

As Lucy opened her eyes, she wrapped her arms around herself, overwhelmed by the desperate longing to hold her soulmate and comfort him. Her courageous soldier who chose to live through such frightful, horrible things as a means to escape the darkness of his childhood. Just this once, she allowed herself a few moments to cry for him. Hot tears fell freely until she felt a fresh wave of sorrow from him. Wiping her face on the back of her hand, she once again turned her gaze to the stars above, took a deep breath and began to sing for her soulmate, her voice a tender lullaby of comfort, both to herself and to him. " Stars shining bright above you…."

Snapping back to the present, Lucy rose from her desk and went to sit on her bed, reaching under her pillow where she kept her journal.

Ever since she began feeling her soulmate, her journal had been her lifeline. Nearly everyday she poured her thoughts onto the pages. Some entries were a reflection of her emotions, others with her soulmates. Always, she wrote an account of her soulmate's projections.

Tonight she opened her journal to a fresh, blank page.

You've been so calm lately, I envy that. Don't get me wrong, you deserve a little calm in your life, but mother has just been so hard on me lately. I know she wants the best for me, it's my last year of highschool, I need to get into a good college. But she just puts SO much pressure on me to do well. What if I can never live up to her expectations? What if my measure of success and hers are just so wildly different that she sees me as a failure? Sometimes I just feel like I'll never be enough for her, that she's trying so hard to turn me into a version of herself that who I want to be, and what I want to do doesn't really matter…. I guess you know that though. I'm sorry for that. You've had to deal with so much stress in your life, I'm sorry you have to deal with mine.. I promise next year will be different. I'm going to go to college, somewhere my mother can't control me.

The next morning Lucy woke absolutely buzzing with energy. Her soulmate had gotten himself completely fired up over something. Lucy felt like she was going to vibrate out of her skin because of his excitement alone! She quickly reached for her journal, wanting to document every moment of these feelings.

You're so happy today, I've never felt you like this before. I wonder what has you so excited? Oh and just a little anxious too! Today must be a big day for you.

Hmmmm …. Dream job? Birthday? Awards ceremony? Gosh so many things it could be! I hope you show me something today, I'd love to get a glimpse of what has you so riled up. 

Lucy had gone about her morning routine and was now immersed in her studies, thankfully back in her room. As if summoned by the rush of adrenaline that had become both familiar and exhilarating, she blinked.

He stood amidst what appeared to be a picturesque backyard, the soft radiance of white gauze and twinkling lights delicately wrapped around a grand tree. Across the lawn, an array of white chairs adorned with the same ethereal fabric formed neat rows awaiting the celebration that was about to unfold. His gaze wandered to a captivating arch adorned with an intricate tapestry of freesias and daisies. Lucy took in the increasing chatter of people, the guests, perhaps, as they gathered in the yard. Confusion momentarily filled her, but she quickly recognized it as her own feeling, distinct from her soulmate's emotions. This was no ordinary gathering; it was a wedding.

She heard him take a deep breath as he took deliberate steps and slowly moved closer to the arch. Expecting him to position himself to the side, in the traditional role of a groomsman, she was taken aback when he instead stood directly beneath the arch. A surge of happiness radiated through him, but it was different this time, an emotion that defied her ability to put a name to. It sent fluttering sensations deep within her stomach and quickened her pulse, leaving her with a sense of anticipation and excitement. 

Lucy heard a cello gently begin to play, and all the guests, now seated, turned towards the house. Her soulmate's eyes shifted, looking over the several smiling faces, and that same strange surge of happiness from before, bloomed through Lucy, filling her with warmth, as a vision in white made her grand entrance.

The bride, gently grasping a small bouquet of the same flowers that decorated the arch, wore a simple, yet elegant dress made of lace and chiffon. The fabric gently swirling around her legs as she walked. Her blonde hair, delicately styled to frame her face. With every step, she moved down the aisle with poise and grace radiating a timeless beauty.

He reached out a hand as she approached, grasping onto her own outstretched hand. 

Lucy was powerless to do anything as the projection continued, unlike past projections where she could blink and seemingly jump into a new moment her soulmate was experiencing, this time she was frozen. Helpless to do anything but see and hear everything as it happened.

Her soulmate's bride gazed adoringly at him as their officiant began his speech. Likewise, Lucy's soulmate hadn't taken his eyes off his bride, she hadn't even caught a glimpse of the officiants face. 

Finally it was time for the exchanging of the rings, and vows. Her soulmate went first, saying "I Timothy, take you Isabel to be my…" but as he continued speaking, Lucy's own emotions threatened to overtake her. It was as if a sudden, deafening ringing had started in her ears, drowning out the rest of his words. Her chest tightened as anxiety, jealousy, and envy swirled within her, and it wasn't until he was leaning in to kiss his new wife, that Lucy was released from the projection.

In shock, she darted to her wall where she had painstakingly hung several charts and wheels describing every known emotion. Love. The emotion she couldn't place when the wedding started. It must have been love.

Lucy just learned 3 things: one, she learned what love feels like, two, her soulmate’s name is Timothy, and three, her soulmate just got married to someone else. While her soulmate named Timothy feels love and is overjoyed, she feels jealous and betrayed.

Chapter Text

'As the prince grew older, he often thought about what his mother had told him. He longed to find his soulmate, the one who would complete him.'

- - -

That evening, as Lucy sat at the dinner table, she absentmindedly prodded a piece of broccoli, her thoughts clouded by a heavy heart.

"Lucy, what's wrong with you?" her mother asked harshly.

"I... I think my soulmate got married today," Lucy whispered, her voice barely audible.

Her mother's eyes widened in shock. "Married? What did you do to lead him to that?" 

"Wh-What did I do?" Lucy stammered, taken aback by the accusation.

"People wait for their soulmate Lucy, they just do. Did you project to him?" Her mother demanded

"Did I.. how would I know!"

"Well think, Lucy! People don't just decide their soulmate isn't worth waiting for, for no reason!" Her mother exclaimed

Tears welled in Lucy's eyes, and she hastily left the table. As she rushed to her room she heard her mother taking to her father, 

"Patrick, we have to get ahead of this. If word gets out that Lucy's soulmate didn't want her, it will ruin us."

Slamming her bedroom door, Lucy ran to her bed, and collapsed. She curled into herself as tightly as she could, her racing thoughts pushing her to the brink of hyperventilation. Panic welled up inside her like a tidal wave threatening to consume her.

In her desperate attempt to regain control, she dug her trembling fingers into her scalp, pulling at her hair with a mix of pain and desperation.

As she lay there, gasping for breath, the torrent of unanswered questions and accusations from her mother swirled in her mind. The very idea that she might have unintentionally pushed her soulmate away haunted her. The room seemed to close in on her, and the tears that had been welling up in her eyes now flowed freely. Lucy had never felt more lost and alone than in that moment, struggling to come to terms with the chaos that had suddenly invaded her life.

As Lucy gradually regained control of her breathing, she reached beneath her pillow for her journal, and began to write.

Timothy… it's weird that I know your name now… Mother says it's my fault you got married today… that I must have shown you something that you didn't like. Is she right? Am I destined to be alone the rest of my life by my own doing? I wish you could tell me.. maybe someday we'll still get to meet, and you can tell me why you didn't wait for me… why I wasn't worth waiting for..

Sunday, Lucy didn't get out of bed. When she woke up in the morning she simply rolled back into the cocoon of her comforter and cried until she fell back to sleep.

The next morning before school, Lucy's mother pulled her aside.

"Lucy," she said urgently, "you can't tell anyone about your soulmate not wanting you. If people find out… you'll be a social pariah at school. No one can know." And with that, she pushed Lucy out the door.

As much as Lucy liked to rebel against her mother's demands, she decided to embrace this particular rule, recognizing that it might actually be in her favour. As the days and weeks unfolded, Lucy began to distance herself from her usual friend groups and extracurricular activities, motivated by a growing lack of trust in her own ability to navigate social interactions. Her daily routine became a repetitive cycle: mornings started with a shower and a solitary piece of toast, followed by a swift departure for school. After returning home, she would eat a small dinner and then retreat to the confines of her room. This pattern repeated itself like clockwork. In the quiet of her room at night, she often found solace in the pages of her journal. With her friends out of the picture, it was her sole refuge from the steadily encroaching sadness that had settled within her. 

Timothy, I wish I could know what I did. Whatever it was must have been, what at least 2 maybe 3 years ago? For you to start a relationship, get engaged, married…. Seems like a decent amount of time.. but I can't remember what I would have shown you back then. I wish we already knew each other so you could just tell me.  

- - - 

"Okay Luce, enough is enough." 

Lucy jumped as she walked toward her bus stop, quickly turning to identify the source of interruption.

It was Jackson, her best friend. As he jogged to catch up with her, he started in again.

"Look girl, I don't know what is up with you lately, but I miss you, so I'm putting an end to it right now. Halloween is coming up and I need your help finishing my outfit. We are going to Dollar Tree and there will be no ifs, ands, or buts from you."

He tugged her by the hand, and Lucy, still so caught off guard, went willingly, grateful for the small distraction from her thoughts.

As Lucy and Jackson walked down the costume aisle, she gathered the courage to nervously ask, "Hey Jackson, if Gino asked you to change something about yourself for him, would you do it?"

Jackson paused as he was reaching for some fake blood, casting a concerned look at where Lucy was standing nervously picking through random accessories. "I guess, it would depend on what he asked me to do. But your soulmate should want you for who you are, di-did something happen with your soulmate? Have you finally found him?'

"No, no, nothing like that," Lucy quickly lied to brush off any suspicion, "I guess I was just wondering how the soulmate bond worked. If like. Even if Gino had like, a 'type' before you, would he ever ask you to change yourself to fit that."

"Nah, he's not like that, but even if he were, look at me." He gestured wildly up and down his body, "I'm clearly every man's type."

That put a smile on Lucy's face, and she put the topic to rest as they continued perusing the Halloween costumes. They chatted about upcoming tests, and some big dinner party Jackson's mom always hosted every year for the police higher ups. Jackson convinced her to buy a costume and go to the Halloween dance at school, so she bought herself a wig, cape, and pointed hat, deeming her makeshift witch costume good enough.

- - - 

That night at home, Lucy stood before her mirror. She'd braided her hair tightly, and clipped it back, and was now trying to fit the wig she'd bought earlier. A sigh escaped her as she got a proper look at herself. Platinum blonde, was just so not her colour, maybe she should have tried to find a darker blonde wig, she thought.

Frustrated, she pulled off the wig and tossed it on her bed.

I've been trying to put myself in your shoes, trying to figure out what would be such a turn off that I wouldn't wait for my soulmate. I can't think of anything personality wise, so I thought… maybe it's the way I look? Maybe I accidentally projected and you could see me, and maybe I'm just not your type? Your wife is blonde, thin, tall by the looks of it, but that could've been shoes I guess. I'm not any of those things… I'm just.. me. Maybe I was never going to be enough. Maybe I never really had a chance. Jackson says his soulmate would never ask him to change, but maybe that's just them, maybe that's not all soulmates.. because I'm pretty sure, if you asked, I'd do anything for you. If you had waited for me, and just told me how to change, to make myself into someone you wanted, I would have. I would have started to work out, dyed my hair blonde… Those would be easy things to do if it meant I wouldn't have to be alone.. if it meant I could have you.

- - - 

Lucy ultimately decided to attend the Halloween dance, a decision that turned out to be one of her best in weeks. As she crossed the threshold into the gym, the vibrant atmosphere enveloped her. The room pulsed with energy, students moving to the music with enthusiasm, and the beat reverberating through the floor, resonating in her very bones.

It was so crowded, and the music so deafening, that it granted her the ultimate liberty—to lose herself in dance. Surrounded by the crowd, there was no need to worry about talking with others and revealing her inner struggles. Instead, she closed her eyes and let herself be carried away by the pulsating rhythm of the songs.

In this moment, Lucy allowed all her worries to drift away with each sway of her body. The weight of sadness, the sting of rejection, the gnawing pangs of jealousy, and ever creeping self doubt, all faded into the background. In the dimly lit gym, under the spell of the music, she felt truly free, unburdened by her troubles, and more alive than she had felt since her soulmate's wedding.

That's how Lucy learned to cope with her situation. Her days, she could often distract herself with school, throwing herself into her studies, determined to achieve her goal of getting into a good college and moving away from home. Her nights were more challenging. She would lay awake in bed, the darkness enveloping her, and she would feel… everything. Timothy's emotions, an ever present force, still came through loud and clear, free from the looming anxiety and apprehensions of his childhood. Instead, here to stay it seemed, was the sheer joy and contentment of married life. Many of these nights she often cried herself to sleep, fully aware that it would never be her who brought him such profound happiness. However, once each month she was provided a brief escape from him, when she would attend the school dance, and allow herself the chance to empty her mind, to think and feel nothing. To simply, be.

Chapter Text

'But as the prince met different people, he never felt that spark that his mother had described. He started to lose hope that he would ever find his true love.'

"Lucy, I've been giving your situation some thought, and I think I have a solution!" Announced her mother one morning.

Lucy quirked her eyebrow, her response laced with dry sarcasm. "My situation, you mean the one wherein my soulmate practically abandoned me? That situation?"

"Oh Lucy, why must you always be so dramatic all the time?" Her mother sighed, "but yes, that is precisely what I am referring to. Now, the way I see it, you need to start dating. The initial step in finding your soulmate after all is dating around. So, you my dear, must maintain appearances. You have a date scheduled for tomorrow night."

Lucy's eyes widened in disbelief as she stared at her mother. "You can't be serious. Mom, my soulmate is married, what good will it do to date someone else?"

"Lucy, you need to save face for the sake of the family! So do your duty as a good daughter and protect our reputation!" Exclaimed her mother.

And that's how Lucy found herself sitting uncomfortably at a restaurant the following evening, waiting for her date to arrive. She'd put in the bare minimum of effort to her appearance, just enough to avoid disapproval from her mother. Her hair was carefully pulled back into a sleek ponytail, and she wore a blouse, paired with black dress pants. Impatiently, she drummed her fingers against the menu while glancing at her phone, releasing a sigh of frustration. He was already 10 minutes late, and she couldn't help but wonder where her mother had unearthed this boy.

At the 15-minute mark, Lucy decided to leave, but as she rose from her seat, her date finally made his entrance. She critically observed him: basketball shorts and a t-shirt. Quite the outfit choice, which gave a whole new meaning to "bare minimum".

"You must be Emmett," she remarked.

"Yeah," he replied, "Sorry I'm late. The game with the guys ran long."

- - - 

Ugh Timothy, why did you do this to me. My date tonight was awful. I don't even know where my mother found this guy. He was late, I don't think he even showered first. Is this what I'm reduced to now? Dating total dude guy bros who care more about basketball games than being on time? And the whole time that's what he talked about, he didn't ask me a question about myself even once, just on and on about basketball. I don't get it, you found someone to love, and who loves you back, and I'm being forced to date around to maintain the family image. Do I not deserve to find someone to love too? I wonder if… did you think about me, ever? Did you consider what would happen to me when you got married? Was I even an afterthought, or did you just not care at all? 

- - -  

Christmas was right around the corner, which meant it was nearly time for Jackson's mom to host her annual dinner.

"Lucy please, you have to come, you can't leave me alone with all of those IA guys!" Begged Jackson. He hung off her arm like a lost child as they walked down the school corridor towards their next class together.

"Pssh, Jackson, you won't be alone. Gino will be with you the whole time." Lucy assured him, rolling her eyes.

Jackson stopped misstep and swung Lucy around to face him. He grabbed her by the shoulders, his eyes desperately searching hers. "Lucy. Please. I'm desperate. My dad's going to have the entire department at this party, and he's going to have every single one of them try to talk me into joining them as a career choice. I need all the backup I can get." He pleaded.

Lucy gave a dramatic sigh, but conceded to her friend. "Okay, okay, okay. But you owe me big time!" 

"Yes! Lucy, you're a lifesaver, I promise I'll make it up to you!" He grinned. 

- - -

"Lucy! Baby girl, it has been far, far too long!" Mrs. West exclaimed, her face lighting up with warmth as she opened the door to welcome Lucy.

Lucy flashed a bright smile as she stepped inside, shedding her coat. "Hi! I know, it's just... senior year of high school, you know?" she offered as an excuse.

Mrs. West, a perceptive woman, narrowed her eyes, seemingly on the verge of saying something more, but she was interrupted by the arrival of Jackson. He appeared at the corner, playfully defending his friend. "Mom! Let the poor girl take her coat off at least before you start interrogating her!" He grabbed Lucy's hand and led her away. "Come on, Gino's already here."

As they made their escape, they heard Mrs. West's voice trailing after them. "Be cleaned up and ready for dinner in 20 minutes, kids!"

Safe in the confines of Jackson's room, Gino exchanged a warm greeting with Lucy before Jackson broached a more serious topic. "You know, Mom's right, Luce. We really don't see much of you anymore."

Lucy wandered over to a chair in the corner of the room, her foot tracing patterns on the floor as she contemplated her response. "I mean, I really am just busy with school, you know? I want to get good grades so I can get into a good college next year."

Jackson leaned against a desk, his expression sincere. "Yeah, we're all trying to do that too, Luce, but you don't see us hiding from everyone. What's really going on?"

Lucy opened her mouth to defend herself once more when a brisk knock on the door interrupted the conversation.

"Hey, kids, better come out. I think your mother is going to have a coronary if we don't start entertaining," Jackson's dad chuckled.

As they made their way to join the party, Jackson pointed a finger at Lucy with a determined expression. "Don't think you're getting out of this so easily, missy. I'm coming over tomorrow, and you're going to spill."

"Tomorrow?" Lucy echoed, her voice wavering. "I, um, I can't tomorrow. I have a thing. But maybe next Friday, we can meet up after school?" she suggested.

The trio returned to the gathering, offering their assistance in entertaining the guests. The rest of the night unfolded without any further questions about Lucy's whereabouts or her apparent absence. 

- - -

The next evening, Lucy found herself sitting in the same restaurant, occupying the same table, where she had shared her last date night…

Mother set me up on another date tonight, she gave me the same spiel as last time.. said that I needed to do my duty and protect the family's image for as long as I'm living at home.. She found him through the community centre she volunteers at. And she told this one that you didn't want me, as a test maybe, just to see what would happen. Ha, you'd get a kick out of this I think. Before telling me anything about him, she said that I shouldn't judge him too harshly. Like, mom really? Are you already resorting to the bottom of the barrel? His name was Jake, he was cute enough, but I don't think it went well. Mother says that most boys coming out of the community centre go on to become "perfectly well adjusted members of society"... If you ask me, I think he's more suited to becoming a drug runner for a small time drug lord, but, what do I know? She's the expert. You know, he actually told me that "he would try to look past my shortcomings, that being rejected by my own soulmate didn't take me out of the running in his destiny." Jerk. Whatever. Maybe he's got a point though. Not being wanted by your own soulmate is a pretty big red flag. If the roles were reversed, I can't say I would be very trusting.

- - - 

"Okay, girl, I've been super patient all week, but I'm dying here. What is going on with you lately?" Jackson questioned, a concerned look in his eyes.

Sitting cross-legged on Lucy's bed, Jackson reached over to gently squeeze her hand. "Babe, you can tell me anything."

Lucy bit her lip, battling against all the warnings from her mother and the pressure to keep her secret. After a deep breath, she finally spoke up. "Jackson... What I'm about to tell you... You can't tell anyone, not even Gino. It can't leave this room. Promise me." She extended her pinky finger to him.

Jackson willingly linked his own pinky with hers. "Okay, I promise."

"My soulmate... his name is Timothy," Lucy revealed.

Jackson's eyes widened in surprise. "You've found him? Is that why you've been hiding, you've just been spending time with him?" he asked, trying to make sense of the situation.

Lucy hung her head, her voice barely above a whisper. "No. He... I haven't met him yet."

Confusion clouded Jackson's face. "Then how do you...?"

"He's married!" Lucy blurted out. "He's married, he projected the whole thing to me, and Mom said I couldn't tell anyone because it would bring shame to the family, so she's been setting me up on these cover dates, so no one will catch on." Once Lucy started, the words spilled out, the weight of her secret too heavy to bear alone.

Her lips quivered, and her tears welled up in her eyes. "The thing is, I write everything down. Everything we share together, I wrote it down, and I don't... I can't... I can't figure out when he gave up on me. I can't figure out why he wouldn't want me, Jackson." Her voice trembled as she poured out her heart.

Without hesitation, Jackson pulled her into a tight embrace. "You listen to me," he said firmly. "You are Lucy Chen. You don't need the approval of anyone, and this Timothy dude is nuts for marrying someone else. And as for your mom... Just tell her to stuff it."

"I can't, Jackson, because she's right," Lucy continued, her voice filled with resignation, anticipating his protests. "No, listen. You and Gino found each other, you chose each other... Timothy, he just didn't want me, and like it or not... it is shameful."

Jackson sighed, realizing that Lucy had made up her mind. He reluctantly released his hold on her. "Okay, I guess you're right. Just... be careful, okay? Don't be afraid to push back a little," he advised, concern still etched on his face. He reached over to gently squeeze Lucy's hand. "I'm here for you, Lucy. Always. Please don't ever feel like you have to hide things from me," he reassured her.

- - -

I almost had another date tonight. Mother found him through a Lost Souls group… she's still trying to convince me to go to one of those meetings, but it doesn't seem right to go when all these people have lost their soulmate through tragedy, and it certainly doesn't seem right to date someone who is mourning the loss of their soulmate. I tried to explain to her that there is a huge difference between having, loving, and knowing your soulmate and then losing them, and simply not being wanted. See because the people who go to these meetings, they all knew who their soulmates really were, they got to spend time with them, get to know them… and I.. Well, I never had you, you just didn't want me, and it's so much different. At least she listened to me this time, and I was able to get out of it, so that’s something. The thing is though. She wasn't wrong for choosing someone for me who has lost their soulmate. I know right now I'm just protecting my parents image, but someday when I'm ready to date for real.. I know my only option will be someone who has lost their soulmate, because I could never do what you and your wife have done. I know you love each other, but you not only left your soulmate behind, but hers too. And I could never do that. I know how it feels to be left behind, essentially deemed worthless by the one person who was made for you, and if I ever married someone whose soulmate was still out there….. what kind of hypocrite would I be? To make her feel the way I feel now? No one should ever have to feel unwanted the way I feel. No one. 

- - - 

Now that Lucy had confided in Jackson, she felt a small but significant weight had been lifted from her shoulders. While she still maintained the secrecy of her situation from the prying eyes of the community and her schoolmates, it was comforting to have someone she could trust in her corner once more. Despite this, Lucy continued to find solace in the pages of her journal. The journal remained a trusted confidant, a place where she could express herself without reservation, even though there was a friend by her side.

I'm tired Timothy. Mother has sent me on 5 dates in the last 2 months. They all end the same way, the guys tell me they had a nice time, but then later mother comes in to tell me I blew it. She keeps saying that the reason they don't want me is the same reason why you didn't… she's decided it's because I have no ambition. That if I would just go to school for psychiatry like her and dad, I would be respected. I'm just tired of having to put on an act. Do you know how hard this has all been for me Timothy? Do you feel me when I'm uncomfortable or anxious being on these dates? Does it bother you at all? I suppose it doesn’t, I’d probably feel annoyance coming from you. I don’t, so I guess that’s good. But I also don’t feel you trying to calm me, the way I used to do for you. Have you always cared so little for me? About our bond? Has any of it ever mattered to you?

- - - 

Lucy and Jackson sat on her bed, a familiar scene that had become a comforting routine whenever she faced something significant. "I can't do it, Jackson. Do it for me?" Lucy pleaded, closing her eyes and pushing an envelope into Jackson's chest.

"Good lord, your mom's right. You are a drama queen," he teased.

"Hey!" Lucy exclaimed, giving him a playful shove.

"You want me to open this thing or not?" Jackson asked with a smirk.

"Okay. Go. I'm ready. Do it," Lucy braced herself.

Jackson carefully slit open the envelope and pulled out the enclosed letter, his eyes scanning the contents silently.

Lucy watched with growing anxiety, her face falling as she couldn't read his expression. "They... they don't want me, do they?" she said, her voice heavy with disappointment. "I knew it, why should they, I'm jus-"

"Girl, stop! I just wanted to read it all," Jackson reassured her quickly. "You did it, Lucy. You got in!"

Lucy blinked in disbelief. "I... I got in?" She snatched the letter from Jackson's hands and quickly scanned its contents. "Oh my god, Jackson, I got in!" she squealed, bouncing up and down on her bed, a wave of exhilaration and joy washing over her.

I graduate highschool soon. I'm still not sure what I want to do with my life, but I applied to all the Ivy League schools and got into one, Columbia. It made mother happy at least, and I'll major in psychiatry like she wants.. until I find something else I like at least… I sometimes wonder if you'd be proud of me. It's silly, I know. I mean, you gave up on me, so I know I'm working against a lot. But Ivy League? I can't be all bad right? Maybe that's something to be proud of.

- - - 

As the end of summer neared, Jackson was by Lucy's side, helping her pack up her belongings in preparation for her college adventure.

"What am I going to do without you?" Lucy murmured softly, her voice filled with a hint of sadness. "You're the only reason why I made it through this year."

Jackson smiled warmly. "You're going to be great, Lucy. You're stronger than you realize, you've got this." He continued folding her shirt with care and gently placed it in her suitcase.

Lucy reached out, placing a delicate hand over his. "I love you, Jackson. You're my best friend in the whole world."

He turned to pull her into a long, heartfelt hug, speaking softly into her shoulder. "And you're mine, Lucy. I love you too."

You haven't projected since your wedding, part of me is relieved. I don't know if I could take seeing your life again now that I know you're married. I still feel you of course.. It's been almost a year since your wedding and you're still as content as ever. Of course you have your ups and downs, everyone does I suppose, but it hasn't been enough to make me worried or sing for you. I'm happy for you Timothy, despite you not wanting me, I've always cared about you. I'll try to find someone when I'm ready, I will. I know I want a marriage, children, a dog maybe… I just wanted all that with you, and I'm just not ready to let you go yet. For 6 years you've been in my heart, and I know you don't want me, I do, but I still spent all that time wanting you, dreaming of what we could be, what our life could be. I can't let it go yet. I wish we could find each other soon. I know there's nothing I can do to speed up that timeline, we meet when we're meant to. But I hope it's soon. I know I'll never have a real shot with you. You're married, and I would never ever want to get in the way of that. I just want to know where I went wrong, what is it that I did? And I need you to know how truly sorry I am. I'm so sorry for everything. I'm sorry you're stuck in this stupid emotional bond with me. I'm sorry for whatever I showed you. I'm sorry for just being me I guess. I promise to do better though…. I'm going to work harder on myself. I want to be worthy of being loved. I know it won't be by you, but by someone. I don't want to be alone forever… I'll get there, I promise. I move into campus dorms in a couple days.. it'll be my chance at a fresh start.

Chapter Text

3 years later..

Lucy sat on a weathered bench at West Harlem Pier, a chat tea latte in hand, warming her fingers against the cool autumn breeze that was gently rustling the pages of her notepad. Over the last three years she often found sitting at the pier more relaxing than the campus library. Something about being near the water reminded her of home on her lonelier days. It wasn’t that she hadn’t been back to LA since starting at Columbia, she had, in fact she flew home every summer and interned at her parents' practice. The campus library was just so sterile. The no noise rule was strictly enforced, the slightest sound louder than a whisper being reprimanded by those around, here at the pier the waves breaking across the supports, shipping tankers passing, even the sound of the birds squawking, it felt like home. Granted it was certainly cooler here, the autumn and winter months harsher than she had been used to at first, still, it was comforting. 

Her college experience at Columbia had not gone exactly as she had envisioned. Lucy had been so certain that moving literally across the country would be the answer to her problems. The distance from her mother’s influence was liberating, granting her the freedom to shape her own life and schedule. Still the burden of not being wanted by Timothy continued to weigh over her. 

In her first year, Lucy had ventured to a Lost Souls meeting in search of support, but the silence that blanketed the room when she shared her story was a stark reminder of her isolation. Proving what she had told her mother; losing a soulmate and never having one were distinct sorrows, and there was no place for her among the Lost Souls, who had lost theirs but were not unchosen, like her.

Her love life since then hadn’t been without its challenges. True to her commitment to herself prior to graduating highschool, she had tried to better herself. She held a gym membership, and carefully watched what she ate, even opting for soft caramel highlights in her hair. The changes did seem to have their effect, attracting her the odd glance of interest from men in passing. 

She cautiously ventured into the dating scene, embracing her newfound self-confidence. Lucy accepted a few offers for dates, creating a five-date limit for herself. This limit allowed her to spend just enough time with a potential partner to establish meaningful conversation, and to satiate her desire for a physical connection, yet never enough to form any profound attachment. She found it easier to gently let someone down with the words, “I’m not feeling the soulmate bond with us,” and gracefully move on, cutting her losses without any deep emotional involvement from either side. 

As the breeze continued to gain intensity, its gentle caress evolving into a biting wind, Lucy involuntarily shivered. The weather was not on her side today, and the idea of returning to her cozy dorm room became increasingly appealing. She gathered her belongings and set off on the path that would lead her back to campus housing. 

Her stomach had other plans, making it known with a loud growl. So she decided to make a slight detour to her preferred coffee shop. 

Once inside, Lucy stood patiently in line, relishing the warmth and comfort the shop provided. She took step by step, inching closer to the counter where she would place her order. When her turn arrived, she paid for her pastry and coffee and turned to join the “wait” line. As she turned, she bumped into someone who unfortunately had just taken their coffee order, which tumbled from their grasp. The scalding liquid splashed against the front of her sweater, instantly seeping into the fabric.

Lucy yelped in surprise, “Oh! Go-hot, hot hot!” She hastily dropped her things, and pulled at her now coffee stained sweater. 

The person she had collided with, clearly concerned, quickly offered assistance, grabbing some napkins, and saying “I’m so sorry, here let me help you” He turned toward the shop worker asking “Hey, can I get a towel over here!”

Flustered, Lucy tried to downplay the incident and reassure the stranger, “No, no, it’s fine, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. Shit that’s hot” She winced as the searing heat continued to sting her skin, her initial shock giving way to a mixture of pain and embarrassment. 

The stranger’s concern for Lucy was evident as he insisted, “Here, at least take my coat, and let me take you home. You’ll freeze in just your t-shirt.” He reached for his coat and offered it to her. 

Lucy, despite her initial resistance, found herself gazing up into the eyes of the stranger, locking onto a warmth and kindness she had never quite encountered before. She hesitated before finally agreeing, “Y-yeah, okay, that would be nice. Thank you.” 

Accepting the proffered coat, Lucy flashed a small smile as she introduced herself, “I’m Lucy.”

“Nice to meet you Lucy, I’m Chris,” he replied with a friendly smile of his own. He turned and reached for her order, and gestured for her to follow, insisting, “Common, let’s get you home.”

As they exited the shop and stepped out into the chilly late afternoon wind, Lucy pointed to the left, “I live on campus, it’s just a couple minutes that way.”

Chris nodded, his curiosity piqued, “You go to Columbia? Me too,” he shared, turning them in the direction of the campus, “I’m studying pre-law,” he added. 

“Psych,” Lucy responded, pulling the coat more firmly around herself. “Hey, thanks for walking me home, I really appreciate it. You didn’t have to, considering I bumped into you.”

Chris, a warm smile still on his face, replied, “It’s the least I could do.” As they approached the entrance of Lucy’s dorm building, he decided to take a chance, and said, “Hey, I’m sorry if this seems forward, but, how would you feel about me buying you a cup of coffee sometime, and maybe have the chance to enjoy it?”

Lucy’s eyes twinkled with a hint of mischief as she considered his offer. She gave a small laugh and replied, “I think maybe too much caffeine and sugar is why I bumped into you in the first place. How about we go to dinner instead?”

She took off Chris’s coat and handed it back to him with a genuine smile. He accepted it saying, “It’s a date then. I’ll pick you up Saturday at 6?”

Lucy’s smile widened as she agreed, “Saturday at 6 sounds perfect.” With their plans set, they exchanged contact information and parted ways. 

Timothy, I met someone today, literally bumped right into him. He seems different from the other men I’ve dated somehow. It’s like he had this warmth about him, gentle. I can’t really explain it. Is this how you felt when you met Isabel? I feel like I should be able to pinpoint that moment for you, but oddly I can’t. I know I’ll have to shut it down after our 5 dates, but I’m actually really looking forward to spending the time with him. 

- - -

True to his word, Chris arrived promptly at 6 pm that Saturday to pick up Lucy for their date. As they walked toward the restaurant, he asked, "I hope sushi is okay for you?"

"Yeah, sushi is great," Lucy replied.

Once they were seated at a table and their orders placed, Chris couldn't help but fidget with his chopsticks. Nervously, he rubbed them together, his apprehension growing with each passing second. Lucy noticed his unease and asked, "Is everything okay, Chris?"

Chris let out an audible sigh and looked up at the ceiling. Gathering his courage, he said, "Look, Lucy. I feel like I should tell you something."

"Okay," Lucy replied, her voice laced with anticipation and a hint of concern.

"Ugh, I can't believe I'm going to mess this up so quickly," Chris muttered to himself. He took a deep breath and continued, "I like you, I like you a lot, and I want to be honest with you. So, I need to tell you. My soulmate... she's... well, she's dead." He glanced up at Lucy, where he had previously been looking only at his hands.

Lucy, a little stunned by his confession, took a moment to process. "Oh," she finally said, her voice filled with understanding. "Okay, that's a lot to take in, but... thank you for sharing that with me. I know that must have been hard." She took a deep breath, her eyes locking onto Chris's. "And, in the interest of honesty, and if we're sharing big things about ourselves so early... My soulmate is married."

"I don't normally tell anyone that," Lucy continued, her voice softer, laced with vulnerability. "Does that... Is that a problem for you?"

"A problem?" Chris questioned, his brow furrowing in confusion. "No, how... How would that be a problem?"

Lucy hesitated, her eyes searching his for any sign of judgement or concern. "Well, don't you feel like I'm damaged goods?" she probed. "I-I mean, my soulmate... h-he got married to someone else, without ever meeting me. That doesn't raise any red flags for you?"

Chris shook his head gently, leaning forward to meet her gaze. With a reassuring smile, he cupped her cheek with his hand, "Oh, Lucy, no." His eyes radiated warmth and understanding. "Lucy, he made his choices. He let YOU go. From what I can tell so far... his loss? Well, that's my gain."

His words melted away any lingering doubts in Lucy's mind, and they shared a smile.

With the weighty revelations now behind them, their dinner took on a much lighter and relaxed atmosphere. As they savoured their sushi and shared plates, Lucy and Chris engaged in casual and pleasant conversation. They discussed school, their respective majors, and their experiences at Columbia University. They laughed over shared struggles and celebrated academic achievements.

As the evening drew to a close, Chris walked Lucy back to her dorm, offering her the crook of his arm to hold onto as they strolled along. "Lucy," Chris began, "I'd like to see you again, if you're open to it." 

Lucy smiled, "I'd really like that, Chris," she replied with sincerity.

His shoulders relaxed as he sighed in relief, and he leaned in closer, his voice gentle, "I have my own apartment. Maybe I could have you over and cook for you?”

Lucy’s smile broadened as she accepted his invitation, “That sounds really nice.”

"Okay, perfect," Chris responded, his eyes reflecting the genuine pleasure he felt. "I look forward to it." 

- - - 

A few nights later, Lucy stood outside the door of Chris's apartment, excitement bubbling within her as she knocked and waited for him to answer. When the door swung open, he greeted her with a gentle kiss on the cheek and a warm smile.

"You look beautiful," Chris complimented. "Come in. I almost have dinner ready."

Lucy stepped inside, taking in the ambiance of the small apartment. As she removed her shoes and coat, she remarked, "You have a really nice place." Her eyes drifted to the kitchen, taking in the tantalising aroma wafting through the entryway . "Wow, smells delicious. What's for dinner?"

Chris grinned, "Batchelor's special," he chuckled, "pasta, and I've also made a salad just for you." He led her to the dining area where he offered her a chair.

"Make yourself comfortable, I just need to plate up," Chris said as he returned to the stove.

Lucy took a seat at the dining table, allowing herself to get lost in her surroundings. Her gaze wandered until it landed on a framed photo placed on a small cabinet behind a potted plant. Startled by the image she saw, she got up for a closer look. The picture was of Chris, smiling alongside who she assumed was his soulmate. At first glance, the woman in the photo bore a striking resemblance to Isabel, Timothy's wife. They shared many similarities: tall, blonde, and beautiful. From where she had been sitting at the table, it was an easy mistake to make.

With the photo in hand, she turned to Chris, her curiosity piqued. "Is this her? Your soulmate?"

Chris sighed, his expression softened with a tinge of sadness. "Yeah, that's my Ashley. I'm sorry, I should have made sure that was put away before you got here. It was thoughtless."

Lucy shook her head, a reassuring smile on her face. "Why? Chris, you don't have to hide anything from me. She was important to you, and I would never ask you to erase her from your life."

Chris hesitated for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "I just... Given your own experience with soulmates, I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

Lucy appreciated his consideration but shook her head, setting the photo back on the cabinet. "I understand where you're coming from, but we can share our pasts, good and bad. It's part of what makes us who we are. Would you tell me about her?" Lucy asked, her curiosity piqued.

Chris couldn't help but crack a light-hearted smile. "Bit heavy for a second date, don't you think?"

"I think we're past heaviness and awkward conversations now, don't you?" Lucy laughed, her eyes full of understanding.

Chris chuckled at her response. "Touche." He thought for a moment before deciding to share. "She was a lifeguard, a couple of years older than me. We met on the beach. We had five wonderful years together before I lost her. She was part of Baywatch, and one day, there was a yacht on fire, and she and her team went out to help with the rescue. For all her training with the fire department, she just wasn't prepared for that rescue."

"I'm so sorry, Chris. I had no idea how strenuous being a lifeguard could be," Lucy said sincerely. 

Chris gave a small nod. "Yeah, thanks," he replied, briefly looking away before regaining his composure. "Anyway, let's eat, shall we?"

The rest of the evening proceeded smoothly, with Lucy and Chris enjoying their meal and engaging in light chit-chat.

- - - 

Their third date was a few days later, marked by a night out at the movies followed by a return to Chris’s apartment. As they settled in for the evening, they grew closer, feeling comfortable in each other’s company. However, during a moment of intimacy, Chris called out Ashley’s name instead of Lucy’s. Understanding that old habits and memories die hard, she decided to view it as a simple lapse in thought. Still, the mistake stung a bit, leaving Lucy with a twinge of hurt. While she chose not to bring it up, she couldn’t help but feel a little wounded by the error. The unspoken presence of Ashley in their budding relationship was a reminder of the complexities that came with forming new connections after the loss of a soulmate. 

Timothy.. I want what you have. I want that effortless, selfmade love that you and your wife found with each other. You chose to be together, despite knowing there was someone out there LITERALLY made for you. You chose to make each other feel special, and I want that for myself. I think I may have come close with Chris. I’ve decided to take a chance, and go beyond my five date rule. He treats me well, he’s respectful, he’s nice. Aside from a little moment the other night everything is easy… and honestly I can't even blame him for it. I can only imagine how hard losing his Soulmate must have been, and I'm proud of him for having the courage to try again, and for choosing me of all people to try again with. I haven’t felt that spark yet, not even a whisper of the love you felt for Isabel on your wedding day, maybe I never will, but I’m going to give it a try. And if easy is as good as I’ll ever get with him, I think I’m ok with that. 

- - -

"No to that," Lucy said as they walked together one day, discussing their plans for the upcoming Thanksgiving weekend. Chris had invited her to join him and his family for dinner, but Lucy hesitated.

"What? Luce, why not? It's Thanksgiving!" Chris exclaimed, clearly disappointed by her response.

"I'm sorry, it's just, I'm not ready to meet your family yet," Lucy explained, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

“Why not? Is it the soulmate thing?” He questioned. “Look if it's about that, we'll just tell everyone he’s dead, it doesn't have to be a big deal.”

“I just feel like a big family function isn't the right time to meet your parents for the first time.. it is a big deal to me, Chris.” She reasoned.

"Lucy, please," Chris pleaded earnestly. "You'll have fun, I know it. And if it gets to be too much, you can hide in the kitchen with my mom and help cook. That's what Ashley used to do."

The mention of Ashley stung Lucy, a reminder of the deep connection Chris had shared with his late soulmate. Despite this, she remained firm in her stance. 

"We've only been together a couple of months; it's just too soon for me. I'm sorry, Chris."

Chris sighed, disappointment clear in his voice. "I guess I understand. I'll miss you."

Lucy responded with a playful giggle. "You'll only be gone a couple of days. You'll be fine."

Truthfully Timothy, it's not that I don't want to meet his family… it's one thing for Chris to start dating again, his soulmate died, it's expected that he try to live the rest of his life as fully as he can. What if I got there and everyone started asking me about you? You're not dead, and I shouldn't have to pretend that you are just to fit in, but I don't want to spend an evening feeling ashamed while surrounded by his entire family. I don't want them to get the wrong idea about me…

- - - 

With Christmas just around the corner, Lucy and Chris were in the midst of planning their holiday activities.

"Okay, I'm flying back to LA on the 22nd, and I'll be spending a week there before coming back for next semester," Lucy informed Chris, her eyes focused on her calendar.

"I wish I could come with you," Chris pouted.

"I know," Lucy acknowledged, a gentle smile on her face. "But you haven't stopped talking about how excited you are for your mom's dinner."

Chris nodded, "You're right, I've been looking forward to it for a while."

Lucy offered a solution. "How about before I leave, we meet up the night before, and have our own Christmas together? We'll put on a nice movie, make some popcorn, and do a little gift exchange."

Chris's eyes lit up with excitement at the idea. "That sounds perfect. A pre-Christmas Christmas with you sounds amazing."

- - - 

A few weeks later, Lucy and Chris were nestled together on his couch under a warm blanket, a bowl of popcorn resting between them. The soft glow of their little three-foot Christmas tree provided the only source of light in the apartment, creating a cozy and intimate atmosphere. They had just finished watching The Holiday, a perfect choice for their Christmas movie night.

As the movie credits rolled, Lucy sat up abruptly, her eyes shining with excitement. "Okay, time for presents," she declared, and she jumped up to walk over to the tree where they had earlier placed their gifts.

Passing a wrapped box to Chris, she urged him, "Here, you go first," the anticipation evident in her voice. 

She bounced up and down on her knees, with her hands clasped under her chin as Chris eagerly tore the wrapping off the gift to reveal a navy blue scarf that Lucy had clearly handcrafted herself. He smiled, but his expression began to fade. "Oh, this is... nice," he said with a hint of uncertainty.

Lucy's enthusiasm waned and she stilled as she noticed the change in his demeanour. Her shoulders sagged, and her face fell. "You don't like it?" she asked with a tinge of disappointment.

Chris quickly reassured her, "No, it's not that. It's just, Ashley would always save up and buy me a designer something or other."

Lucy felt a pang of hurt as the comparison to Ashley emerged once again. "Oh. I'm sorry, I didn't know that's what you wanted," she replied softly, reaching to take back the scarf.

Chris tried to ease the tension. "Hey, it's okay. You'll know for next time."

Lucy accepted the scarf back, though her disappointment lingered beneath the surface. Chris hastily offered her a small gift in return.

"Here," he said, handing her the box. "I understand if you don't want it. We clearly had different ideas in mind for our gifts."

Lucy carefully opened the small box to find a dainty rose gold bracelet inside. Her eyes brightened, and she quietly said, "Wow, it's beautiful. Thank you, Chris." She gently ran her finger over the bracelet, hesitating before she spoke again. “Are… Chris, are you sure you want me to have this? I can't afford to get you something as nice as this right now. I made everyone their gifts this year to save myself some money. I'm… I'm not sure I deserve something this nice.” 

Chris reached to tenderly tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Babe, I want you to have something that shows how much I care about you. Don't worry about my gift, really.” 

“Right. Yeah, okay, that makes sense. I'll.. I'll make it up to you, I promise.” She said softly.

They settled in to watch another movie together, although Lucy wasn't paying much attention. She sat quietly, with her chin propped on her hand, and eyes unfocused. She had been so excited to make Chris something to show him how much he meant to her, but his expensive gift put hers to shame, and he hadn't put up a fuss when she took back the scarf. Adding to it all the comparison between her and Ashley, Lucy found herself deeply unsettled, and looking forward to the week ahead with her parents. Maybe the break would allow her the time and space to reflect on her feelings and the direction of their relationship.

Maybe I’m just being too sensitive, I’m sure he doesn’t mean to compare me to her. She was the most important person in his life, it’s only natural for him to want to share the important things with me. Still…. I think I might be starting to resent her a little bit. I don’t mean to, but, once again, I’m finding myself overshadowed by a pretty blonde I can’t ever live up to. Maybe it’s just a sign..

- - -

"Hey Lucy, I'm so glad you're back!" exclaimed Chris, his face lighting up as he greeted her at the arrivals section of the airport.

"It's nice to see you too," Lucy smiled warmly.

Chris wasted no time in bringing up their plans for New Year's Eve. "So New Year's Eve is in two days. I was thinking you and I would meet up with a few of our friends, and then go back to my place for our own little celebration, what do you think?"

Lucy hesitated for a moment, then decided to be honest with him. "Actually, I kind of have this weird tradition," she began. "I like to take New Year's Eve and New Year's Day to meditate. It's a way to reflect on the past year and envision the possibilities of the year to come."

Chris nodded understandingly, not pressing further. "Oh, that's cool, yeah, no problem."

While Lucy really did cherish this time for meditation and self reflection, there was also another reason she valued her solitude during the holiday season. She didn't mention to Chris that the holidays tended to be a challenging time for Timothy. Beginning a few days before Christmas and lingering well into the New Year, he often felt lonely and glum. Despite her complicated non-relationship with her soulmate, Lucy always found herself trying to comfort him.

Lucy spent the next few days at her dorm, taking the time to create a peaceful environment. She tidied up her space, lit a few candles, and dedicated time to meditation. She focused on finding her inner calm, seeking a sense of balance and tranquility that she hoped to carry with her into the New Year. Her meditation sessions were not only a personal ritual for self-reflection but also a way to prepare herself emotionally for the challenges she knew Timothy would be facing. She liked to imagine their connection as a sort of tether, one that she could send her own inner calm down to ease his loneliness. 

- - -

The next time Lucy saw Chris, he had ordered takeout for them at his apartment. As they ate, he eagerly dove into describing the amazing New Year's party she had missed, expressing his enthusiasm for it.

"I'm sorry, Chris," Lucy said, a hint of regret in her voice. "I didn't know it was so important to you."

"It's fine, Lucy," Chris replied, his tone slightly sulky. "You have your traditions, and I have mine. I guess I was just hoping that at some point you would try to partake in mine."

Lucy considered his words and offered a compromise. "Well, how about this? Tell me more about the things Ashley liked, and I'll do my best to put my own spin on them. I've learned about Christmas, New Year's... Basically, all the holidays seem to be important. What else?"

Chris was shocked by her willingness to learn more about his late soulmate. He hesitated before responding, "Oh, I mean, that pretty much covers it, I guess. She used to go all out for all the major holidays, we both did. We'd use them to show each other how much we care." He paused, gathering his thoughts. "Can you tell me a bit about your soulmate? All you've told me is that he's married. I don't know anything else."

Lucy hadn't expected this line of questioning, but she agreed to open up a little more. "Not much to tell, really. I never met him. Anything I know about him has been through his projections."

"But you know he's married?" Chris pressed for clarification.

"Yeah, he projected his wedding to me. That's actually why I was so startled to see the photo of Ashley the first time," Lucy admitted. "She and my soulmate's wife look so similar."

Chris found this connection intriguing. "Huh, that's interesting."

Lucy tilted her head, curious. "How do you mean?"

"Well, if your soulmate's wife and my Ashley look so much alike, maybe it's a sign?" Chris suggested.

Lucy was a bit taken aback by Chris's unexpected suggestion. "A sign?" she questioned, seeking clarification.

"Yeah, if two people so important looked so similar, maybe it's a sign that you need to change a little. You know, like your hair," Chris explained.

Lucy felt a mixture of confusion and surprise. "You want me to change my hair?"

Chris quickly reassured her. "No, not at all. I'm just saying, the universe chooses our soulmates for us, and if yours decided to marry someone else who was blonde. And the universe then led us to be together, and my soulmate was blonde too... It just makes sense, doesn't it?" 

Lucy got up from the table and began to clear away their dishes. She'd barely turned toward the sink when Chris continued. 

“And for that matter!” He said as he turned in his chair to watch her, a hint of excitement breaking through his voice. “How far would you say the similarities go? Maybe you should do more than change your hair? Maybe you need to double down at the gym, and eat healthier too?”

Lucy stopped her cleaning, momentarily stunned at that comment. She still made a point to go to the gym regularly. She'd run the treadmill a while, and free lift weights, just enough to keep a little toned. She wasn't necessarily thin, but she had certainly become more fit since highschool. 

Placing the dishes in the sink, Lucy grappled with the unexpected turn in the conversation. As she wiped her hands on a kitchen towel, she turned to Chris, her expression a blend of curiosity and bewilderment.t.

"Chris, changing my appearance or lifestyle based on coincidences seems a bit far-fetched," Lucy remarked, her voice calm but inquisitive. "Are you suggesting that the universe is guiding us to be together by making me more like your wife? Like His?"

Chris, sensing her reservations, shifted in his chair, his tone becoming more earnest. "No, Lucy, that's not what I meant. I just thought it was an interesting observation."

Lucy nodded, appreciating his clarification but still processing the implications. "I understand, Chris. It's just... I believe in being authentic, and I've worked hard to be comfortable in my own skin."

Chris sighed, realizing he wasn't going to persuade her. "I get that, Lucy. I didn't mean to imply you should change. It's just a quirky thought, that's all.”

Lucy nodded again, but didn't respond. Instead she busied herself with putting away the leftover takeout, eating dishes, and putting them away. And even though she chose to spend the night with Chris, she was kept up, replaying their conversation in her mind. She'd had the same thoughts before… should she change her hair more drastically, should she eat less indulgent foods… Chris did have a point, Ashley and Isabel were shockingly similar in appearance, and she ‘d be lying to say she hadn't compared herself to them on more than one occasion. But she also meant what she had said about living her life authentically. Did she really have to change everything about herself just to be wanted?

- - -

It was the day before classes started in the new semester, and Lucy had taken over Chris's kitchen to bake some cookies. While she waited for the batch to come out of the oven, she couldn't help but dance around, using a spatula as a makeshift microphone while singing to her own private tune. Chris watched with a small smile on his face. Lucy paused her impromptu kitchen concert for a moment as her timer sounded. 

She bent to take the cookies from the oven and placed them on a cooling rack. As she noticed Chris's amused smile, she couldn't help but ask, "What?"

"Nothing," Chris chuckled, "you're just so cute. I love watching you dance and have fun like this. Ashley was always so worried about getting the recipe wrong, she wouldn't have dared take her eyes off anything for a second." 

He reached for a cookie off the cooling rack and took a bite. "Then again, maybe that was a good thing. What are these?"

Lucy proudly listed the healthy ingredients, touching each off on her fingers. "Do you like them? They're my healthy treat. They've got flax, oatmeal, banana, almonds."

Chris took another bite, then coughed slightly and set the cookie aside. "They're a bit dry," he chuckled, unable to hide his amusement at her culinary experiment.

Lucy joined in the laughter. "I'm still working on the perfect healthy cookie recipe, it seems."

"Well I'm proud of you for trying to make healthier choices. Speaking of, have you given any more thought to what I said?" Chris inquired.

"About what?" Lucy questioned, briefly pausing her scooping of more cookie dough.

"Changing your hair," Chris clarified.

Lucy considered the question for a moment before responding, "Oh, that. Um... not really. It's not like I haven't thought about it, I have. And the logic makes sense... I guess I don't really have a reason not to."

"I think you should go for it, maybe it will make our connection stronger," Chris encouraged.

Maybe Chris is right, maybe I should just bite the bullet and go blonde. I always thought I could be wanted for who I am, but maybe he's got a point. Ashley and Isabel look so much alike, so maybe I'm the odd one out for a reason, maybe it's to show me how to change so I'll be wanted. 

I hate that I'm at this point in my life. I just want to be loved Timothy, is that so wrong? I don't understand why I should have to change myself to be worth loving. 

- - - 

Lucy was sprawled out on the living room floor of Chris's apartment, surrounded by notes and textbooks. She mindlessly kicked her legs through the air while highlighting passages in one of her textbooks. Chris lay on the couch, engrossed in his own work, but his thoughts were clearly elsewhere as he gazed at her.

Breaking the silence, he finally spoke up. "Say, Lucy, have you given any thought to what you're going to do after you get your degree this year?"

Lucy capped her highlighter and sat up, looking at him thoughtfully. "Well, I've got a couple of options," she began. "I could move back to LA, join my parents' practice. I could apply to local practices here, so I can stay close to you." She reached for his hand. "Or, I could try to further my education and go for my master's."

Chris suggested another option that took Lucy by surprise. "You could move in with me."

Lucy blinked in response. "I didn't realize we were there yet."

Chris explained his reasoning. "Well, I've thought about it, and I think it would be good for you. Move in here with me, and then once you graduate, you can take your time figuring out what it is you really want to do."

Lucy seemed hesitant, and she pulled her hand away, scooting slightly further from him. Chris leaned closer, attempting to persuade her. "But I just told you," she said.

Chris cut her off. "I know. And I know you think those are things you should do. But, Lucy, think about it. A therapist's main job is to coach people through their problems and offer relationship advice. You can't seriously think you're in a position to do those things."

Lucy was taken aback and stung by his words. "Why not?" she questioned matter of factly. "Chris, I will be just as qualified as anyone else."

Then, in an unexpected moment, Lucy felt a familiar tug. It was a projection, something she hadn't experienced in a long time. The rush of adrenaline coursed through her body as her chest tightened. She felt pure joy and happiness. Timothy was projecting.

She blinked and saw a bar with neon signs and posters adorning the walls. Timothy was surrounded by people, all celebrating and raising their glasses. "To the next generation of training officers!" yelled a young woman, followed by cheers of "To Tim!" and "Yeah!" The vision clearly gave Lucy a glimpse of Timothy's happiness and achievement.

As quickly as the projection had begun, it ended, and Lucy found herself back in Chris's apartment. She felt breathless, trying to reorient herself in her surroundings.

"Was that...?" Chris began to ask.

"Yeah," Lucy confirmed, still a bit dazed. "Sorry, I just need a second. It's... It's been a while."

Chris couldn't contain his frustration as he continued his argument. "Lucy, this is exactly the point I'm trying to make. The people coming to you for help are going to be struggling in some capacity. And look at you. You don't even have the most basic thing everyone else has. You don't have a soulmate who wants you. You're not equipped to be giving life advice."

Chris's harsh words had struck Lucy to her core, and she felt a whirlwind of emotions crashing over her like a cold shock. Her eyes welled up with tears, but anger consumed her more than anything.

Without hesitation, Lucy scrambled to her feet, putting distance between herself and Chris, hands on her hips as she confronted him. "I may not have a soulmate, Chris, but I do have life experience. And how dare you try to throw that in my face and diminish my self-worth just to get your way!" She raised her voice, her frustration evident. "You expect me to move in with you, live my life with you, but you don't really want me, you want an Ashley replica, trying to convince me to bleach my hair, lose weight, stay home, and take care of you. No. Screw you, Chris."

She swiftly gathered her books and papers, cramming them into her satchel. Chris attempted to plead and apologize, saying “Lucy, please, I didn’t mean it like that, I was just frustrated at the situation, I’m sorry.”

But Lucy was resolute. "No. We're done, Chris. I may not be worth much to my soulmate and apparently not to you, but I sure as hell know I'm worth more than just a relationship." With those words, she left his apartment abruptly, slamming the door behind her, leaving behind a stunned Chris.

As Lucy walked away from Chris's apartment, there was a part of her that felt a fresh wave of sorrow and guilt welling up inside. She chose not to believe that it was a sign of something deeper and quickly dismissed it as residual feelings from her fight with Chris.

- - -

A few days later, Lucy paced nervously in her dorm room. She glanced at the clock, acknowledging that she had an hour until the appointment she had made for herself. Determined, she quickly gathered the items she needed, and put on a light coat to defend against the spring wind.

The walk to the pier was a familiar one, a place that had often been a source of comfort when she felt homesick. She made it there in record time, her feet moving almost automatically along the path, guided by muscle memory alone.

Once she reached the pier, Lucy sat on one of the old, weathered benches, overlooking the harbour. From her bag, she pulled out her well-worn copy of 'The Royal Connection,' a book that had given her so much hope for years. She also retrieved a pen, and with a shaky breath, she began to write what would be her last ever entry to Timothy.

Once upon a time, I believed in soulmates. I believed that my prince would sweep me off my feet and show me the greatest love I had ever known... I was foolish. We might be connected, but we are certainly not soulmates.

Her hand trembled as she continued, tears of anger streaming down her face, mixing with the ink on the page, and she willed herself to feel every bit of her anger as deeply within herself as she could. 

I hate you. I sang to you in your darkest moments, I danced for you at your happiest. And you threw me away like I was nothing before you ever met me. You get to go out, have fun with your friends without a care in the world, meanwhile I have been so desperate to be wanted by anyone that I settled for less than I deserve. I have given you so much power over my entire life, Timothy, but not anymore. I am worth so much more than some fabled soulmate connection. I am worth more than the acceptance of any man. So I am taking my power back, and if we ever do meet in person, I will do everything in that power to make sure you never know who I am. I hate you, and soulmates do not exist.

With that, Lucy closed the book and hurled it into the ocean with all her might. She turned and walked back the way she came, wiping her face on the back of her sleeve. These were the last tears she'd ever cry for her soulmate, determined to move forward with her life on her terms.

With determination in her step, Lucy walked towards her next destination – a small and unassuming office building. Taking a deep breath, she entered and introduced herself to the kind-faced receptionist.

"Dr. Burnette has been expecting you, Lucy. Go on in," the receptionist said.

Lucy proceeded to the office indicated by the receptionist and took a seat across from the older gentleman who was waiting for her. She neatly folded her hands on her lap and fixed her gaze on a spot on the wall.

Dr. Burnette spoke gently, "So, Ms. Chen, what brings you to see me?"

Lucy's eyes darted to meet his, and she bit her lip, contemplating the weight of what she was about to say. After taking a deep breath, she finally spoke, "I don't want to feel… anything. Ever again."

Dr. Burnette leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers as he regarded her with a serious expression. "Very well, Ms. Chen. We have a lot of work to do."

Chapter Text

Lucy heard the turn of the key before a knock echoed through her apartment.

"Hey, Lucy! Rise and shine Princess! I have a hot latte and a scone with your name on them," came Jackson's booming voice as he walked in.

Turning from the mirror where she had been regarding herself, Lucy faced him just as he turned the handle to her bedroom door.

"You know, Jackson, I gave you that key for emergencies only," she said sternly. "But since you brought me coffee, I'll make an exception just this once." She laughed, reaching with grabby fingers to take the offerings.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," he laughed. "Besides, I can't have you working your first day as a cop on an empty stomach. Speaking of, you have two minutes to finish your primping, or I'm leaving without you, and you'll have to drive that piece of junk you call a car to the station."

"Hey!" she exclaimed. "Do not speak ill of my baby!"

He gave her a pointed look, swirling one finger in the air in a "wrap it up" motion as he turned to leave. "Downstairs, two minutes," he called over his shoulder.

Lucy sighed and turned back to the mirror. She had opted for loose waves in her hair, a simple black t-shirt, and her favourite pair of jeans for the day. Taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders, she placed her hands on her hips, making herself feel as big as she could. "You are Lucy Chen. You are your own person. You can make a difference."

She stared into her own eyes in the mirror, took a deep breath to steel her nerves, and then made her way downstairs to where Jackson was waiting.

- - -

Tim entered the roll call room with his characteristic confidence, striding down the aisle to claim his regular spot in the fourth row, taking the seat right beside Angela Lopez. Their camaraderie was evident as they exchanged subtle nods and knowing glances.

He leaned in closer to her, his voice a hushed undertone. "

Hey, Ang. It's rookie day, and it seems we've only got one fresh face in the mix. Any bets on who Grey's going to assign her to?"

Angela couldn't help but smirk, her amusement dancing in her eyes. She chuckled softly before responding, "Come on, Tim. With your track record? She's mine, no doubt about it."

Tim bristled at the insinuation. "My track record? It's not my fault they all wash out. The academy just doesn't weed them out like they used to."

With a raised eyebrow and a sly grin, Angela retorted, "Mhmm."

"Come on, Angela, I'm getting bored out there. Let me have this one," he pleaded.

"Fine," she relented, "wanna shoot for her?"

"Absolutely!" Tim's eyes sparkled with excitement." Best out of three?"

Angela was quick to shoot down that idea. "Nothing doing, Bradford. You get one shot. Ready?"

"Fine," he grumbled. They discreetly placed their fisted hands under the table, hidden from view. In perfect unison, they whispered, "Rock, paper, scissors, shoot."

Tim's hand remained a fist, while Angela's transformed into a victorious paper. Before he could react, Angela deftly formed a mock gun with her thumb and index finger, plunging it into his side.

"Ha!" Angela triumphantly declared, "I win, she's mine!"

Just as their lighthearted banter was reaching its peak, a stern voice interrupted them. "BRADFORD, LOPEZ!" Sergeant Grey's voice boomed from the front of the room. "If you're done, I'd like to start my briefing now."

A sheepish Tim began to explain, "Sorry, sir, we were jus-"

Grey, who had seen their antics countless times before, cut him off, exasperated. "Yeah, yeah, I know what you two were doing. Fighting like children in my roll call room. Who won this time?" he asked resignedly.

Angela spoke up, "I did, Sir, fair and square."

Sergeant Grey sighed, deciding not to delve into their competition further. He turned his attention to the rookie officer sitting in the front row.

"Our current topic of discussion is our newest rookie, a hotshot by academic standards, earning herself top of her class at the academy," he declared with authority, his deep voice resonating through the room. "She even managed to beat out West's scores. Stand up and introduce yourself."

"Yes, sir," Lucy complied, rising to her feet. She turned to face the room, arms held rigidly behind her back in a show of discipline. "Officer Lucy Chen, badge number 28537."

She was drawn to the two sets of eyes watching her with intense interest, brown - warm, kind, but guarded, and blue - a deeper blue than she'd ever seen, that seemed to pierce into her very soul. She somewhat reluctantly dragged her eyes away in search of Jackson at the back of the room, who gave her a small smile of encouragement, before she turned back to Sergeant Grey, her gaze locked on a spot on the wall behind him. Sergeant Grey made his decision swiftly.

"Okay, Chen, you're with Bradford."

Angela couldn't hide her surprise and frustration. "But, sir!"

Sergeant Grey raised a hand to silence her protests. "Last time I checked, I was the one with the fancy office, which means I get the final say in the matter. You can have the next one."

He turned his attention to Tim, "Bradford, I actually like this one, try to see her through the program this time."

Tim nodded solemnly, addressing Angela with a victorious grin. "Ha, better luck next time, Lopez! Boot, let's go! Crime waits for no cop!” He yelled over his shoulder as he walked away.

Lucy hurried to catch up to him as he led her to the shop bay.

“This is a shop. It is not a car, it is not a black and white, this is where you work.” Tim was to the point and brusque. “Inspect it for damage, make sure nothing was left behind inside, and- Why aren't you writing this down boot “ he demanded.

Lucy turned the notepad in her hand toward him showing what appeared to be his entire speech that he hadn't yet finished saying. Yanking the notepad from her grasp, he demanded “What the hell is this Boot?”

Lucy blinked, but remained composed despite his abruptness. “I have a friend on the force sir, he told me what to expect .”

“Oh really,” he cocked his head, and crossed his arms over his chest. “And I suppose this friend also told you everything to expect out on the streets today? Predicted everything we're going to face?”

Lucy wisely chose to remain silent, taking his question rhetorically, he leaned forward ever so slightly, and snarled. “You write down only the things I tell you directly, and not secondhand from anyone else, you got that Boot?” He tore off her carefully written notes, and shoved the notepad into her chest. “Start over, and make it quick!”

He finished running her through the beginning of the patrol process, and pulled the notepad from Lucy's hand once again, revealing a series of small scribbles. “Is that… is that shorthand?” He asked with disbelief.

“Yes sir, I find it more efficient sir.” Stated Lucy.

“Fine” Tim grumbled, “get in the shop.”

They had been driving in tense silence for a few minutes when Tim asked, “So Chen, I've read your resume. A degree is psychology, 5 year stint working at a youth centre, and volunteering to help rehabilitate the homeless. It's impressive, but don't think playing Mary Poppins the last few years is going to impress me. What's your plan long term, assuming I don't wash you from the program?”

Lucy glanced toward him as he asked his question. She returned her gaze to the street, giving a small hum as she contemplated her reply. “Pretty straight forward sir. Get through my rookie year, make P2, bide my time until I-”

Tim stomped his foot on the brake, bracing himself against the steering wheel, as the shop screeched to a halt. “I've been shot!” He yelled, “Where are we Boot! Where are we?”

Unfazed, she quirked her eyebrow at him and deadpanned, “North Kings near Rosewood….” She tilted her head toward the house next to her. “Civic address 460. Cedars-Sinai is a few minutes that way,” she gestured vaguely with her hand. “You'd be fine sir.”

Tim squinted at Lucy, his only sign of annoyance on his otherwise stoic face. "Congratulations, Boot, you've passed your first test," he declared, and then, he accelerated, resuming their route.

Lucy remained composed in her seat, her observant eyes scanning the surroundings as they drove. After a few minutes of silence, Tim decided to break it.

"So, you were saying something about biding your time?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Until what?" he probed further.

"Until there's an opening in CIT, Sir.”

He nodded, his expression showing a hint of concern."Crisis Intervention Team, huh."

"Do you see a problem with that, Sir?" Lucy asked pointedly.

"Oh, not at all," he quickly assured her. "It's just that CIT people tend to be... how do I put this... warm and fuzzy? And I just don't get that vibe from you. Honestly, I think you should have stayed playing nanny at the youth centre rather than be here. You probably scared all those kids straight.”

"You don't know anything about me," Lucy retorted.

Tim nodded in thought. "True, true." Shifting the topic, he inquired, "So, how does your soulmate feel about you being a cop?"

Lucy shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Respectfully, Sir, I'd prefer to keep the shop a personal-life-free zone."

"Fair enough, I guess," Tim conceded. He slowed the patrol car to a stop at a sign. Then, he looked at Lucy and stated, "Get out."

Lucy's reaction was swift, her eyes wide with surprise. "Sir?" she questioned.

"Get. Out," Tim repeated firmly.

Lucy stared at him for a moment, expecting him to change his mind, but it was clear he wouldn't. She hurriedly unfastened her seatbelt and exited the patrol car.

Tim started driving again, maintaining a slow enough speed for her to easily walk beside the moving vehicle. "Keep up, Boot!" he called through her open window.

Rolling her eyes, Lucy complied with his unusual request, walking briskly beside the patrol car as it moved forward. Tim made her walk next to the shop for several minutes before he continued his line of questioning, undeterred.

"So, your soulmate," he began, "how do they feel about you being a cop?"

Lucy slowed her pace, somewhat surprised by the question, and turned toward him, her hands coming to rest on her duty belt. "Really, Sir?" Her raised eyebrows, and set mouth indicated her indignation.

He leaned in, emphasising the seriousness of the matter. "Look, I'm just trying to make sure your focus isn't always going to be on your soulmate. If you can't separate work and your soulmate, you're a liability to me, and you have no business being a cop," he explained with a huff.

Lucy released a sharp exhale through her nose, displaying her understanding of the importance of the issue. "It won't be a problem, Sir," she assured him, and resumed walking.

"Okay, so tell me how they feel, and I'll let you stop walking," Tim proposed.

Lucy came to a halt but kept her gaze forward as she considered her response. She eventually turned to face him.

"Sir, I don't believe in soulmates. I find the whole concept to be wishy-washy and overly romanticised. Trust me, Sir, when it comes to soulmates, I won't be a liability to you."

Seemingly satisfied with her answer, Tim nodded and gestured for her to return to her seat beside him in the patrol car.

Their morning continued relatively uneventful, a citation for a rolling stop, and another for lapsed registration. Tim randomly asked her to recite penal codes between calls.

As they took their lunch break, Tim made a bee line for the table where Angela sat waiting, calling over his shoulder, “Rookies buy lunch, Boot!”

Lucy scanned the available food trucks and got in line for tacos, pulling out her phone as she waited.

Lucy: Where are you, I need help! You didn't tell me I had to buy him lunch?! What do I get? I'm guessing tacos????

Jackson: Hey, sorry Lu, got stuck at a call, won't be able to meet you for lunch. And I can't give you all my secrets!

Lucy: Traitor.

Lucy: Please help me Jackson, he hates me, I need all the help I can get.

Jackson: Gotta go. Don't forget the hot sauce!

Lucy sighed and tucked her phone away, noticing it was almost her turn to order. She crossed her fingers and ordered the pulled pork for him with a side of hot sauce, and fish for herself. After her number was called, she quickly collected her orders and scurried over to where Tim was now sitting with Angela.

“Here you are, Sir. And I took a guess and asked for extra hot sauce. Will you be needing anything else?” Lucy asked, as she placed the food in front of him.

“No. Now go away and let me eat in peace, Boot.” Tim said. Angela smirked as Lucy walked away,

“Wow, looks like your new boot’s got you all figured out Bradford.”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up Lopez.” He grumbled, taking a bite of his taco.

“Oh come on, every rookie you've had has washed out. This one is making it easy for you, she even got your lunch order right. She's perfect!”

“Yeah, that's the problem,” he took another bite, “no one can be that perfect. Ange, she knows shorthand. Shorthand!”

Angela flinched, and smacked him over the head as food spit out of his mouth. He continued his rant undeterred.

“You know, she doesn't even believe in Soulmates?”

“Woah, okay that might be a little weird. But she's probably got her reasons. Listen, you keep saying you've been getting dud rookies, so instead of complaining, you should appreciate having a boot who's proactive and, dare I say, competent."

Tim shot her a sceptical look. "Competent or not, there's something off about her. Too perfect. It's like she's trying to play a role or something."

Angela chuckled, taking a sip of her soda. "Well, if she's putting on an act, it's a damn good one. Just give her a chance, Tim. Maybe you'll finally break your streak of 'washed-out' rookies."

Tim sighed, acknowledging Angela's point but remaining unconvinced. He sat back and chewed on his drink straw. He jerked his chin toward where Lucy was sitting,

“Look at her over there, what is she even doing?”

Lucy had taken the table farthest from the crowd of the lunch patrons, and sat with her back facing a wall. Her lunch, partially finished lay pushed to the side. Eyes closed, her back rigidly straight, Lucy was taking slow, deep, fortifying breaths.

This day had not gone at all how she'd expected. She thought getting the drop on both the TO’s would impress whoever she was assigned to, but all her efforts had seemed to do was piss him off. And then to try to get around her request for no personal talk in the shop by kicking her out? Oh, that was good, but irritated her to no end. No. No. She shook her head slightly, as if she'd be able to shake off the feeling. She took another deep breath, in for a 6 count, out for a 6 count, and thought back to the teachings of Dr Burnette.

“You were right Lucy. To think of your connection as a tether between you, you were right. But it's also more than that. Think of it as a funnel, and every emotion you experience is the basin, and it all goes through the tunnel to him. Learning to control your own emotions is going to be the hardest thing you've ever done. You’re going to have to actively choose what and what not to feel at any given moment. Practise what we call ‘Active Meditation’, breathe through any moment you feel a heightened emotion, no matter how fleeting. Breathe through them and will them away, entirely or to a safer time to reflect on, it's up to you. This way you won't push anything down the funnel to him. But how much you feel is up to you Lucy. This is your choice, your power.”

“Once I've got the hang of this, I think even Spock will be proud of me.”

Dr. Burnette chuckled, “Well then, may you live long and prosper. Let's begin. I want you to start with breathing exercises. In for a 4 count, out for 4. Gradually increase. When you get to 7, I want you to imagine the funnel. Now picture a whirlpool, that's your emotions and they're all being pushed down the funnel towards him. Breath. On 8, I want you to calm the whirlpool of your emotions. If the whirlpool is calm it won't want to force its way down. When you reach 10, I want you to have settled your emotions completely.”

….9. 10. Lucy opened her eyes, mind and body now fully clear of the irritation she had felt earlier, and pulled the remainder of her lunch toward her.

Tim watched Lucy from his table, noting her composed demeanour as she practised her breathing exercises. Angela nudged him, a hint of amusement in her eyes.

"Looks like your boot has some coping mechanisms, Bradford. Maybe you should take notes," she teased.

Tim grunted in response, keeping a watchful eye on Lucy as she gradually returned to her lunch, her focused gaze revealing a determined spirit beneath her calm exterior.

Meanwhile, Lucy, unaware of Tim's scrutiny, resumed eating her fish tacos, savouring the momentary reprieve from the challenges of her first day on the job. As she glanced around the lunch area, her eyes briefly met Tim's, and she gave him a small nod of acknowledgment.

As their eyes connected Tim called out, "Wrap it up Boot! Back on patrol in five."

Lucy scurried from her seat quickly discarding her trash, putting her tray in the collection area, and walked back to where their shop was parked. Tim joined her shortly thereafter, and wordlessly pulled the shop back onto their beat.

The afternoon passed uneventfully until they were just shy of an hour from the end of shift . Tim guided the shop into a rough part of town, pointing out a seedy convenience store where two men were unmistakably involved in a drug exchange.

"Okay Boot. I've decided your punishment for this morning's overconfidence." He said smugly, "See that guy? His name's Ghosthead, and he's in violation of his parole for dealing drugs. Go arrest him."

Despite the apparent size difference, Lucy did not object to the order and maintained a stoic demeanour as she exited the shop.

"Turn around, face the wall." She ordered, voice full of authority.

Ghosthead, defiant, refused to comply, prompting Lucy to exchange a questioning glance with Tim.

"Tick-tock, Boot! I want to clock out on time tonight, let's go!" Tim's voice echoed with impatience.

Ghosthead sneered at Lucy, taunting her, "You want me to face the wall? Make me, Boot."

Lucy made to grab him by the arm, but he quickly got around her with a fight ensuing.

Tim simply stood back, arms crossed over his chest, "Common, keep your arms up Boot!" He called out. "Gotta protect that pretty face of yours!"

Lucy found the upper hand, and made the arrest, breathing heavily as she shoved Ghosthead in the back of the shop. Tim drove them back to the precinct in silence, simply telling Lucy to book their perp and get their paperwork started before briskly walking away.

As Lucy processed the arrest she remained determined in preserving her confidence, refusing to let Bradford's words seed any self-doubt. Her intention had been not to project overconfidence but to showcase thorough preparation.

Lucy's hand swiftly moved across the page, meticulously detailing a comprehensive report of the day's events. The anticipation of returning home for a soothing hot bubble bath fueled her desire to wrap up the paperwork swiftly.

She found Tim where he had retreated to in the bullpen and approached him to submit her work.

"Sir, paperwork is done. Is there anything else you need?"

Tim glanced up from his desk, his expression unreadable. "Just make sure you remember this lesson, Chen. You can't predict everything on this job, you need to be prepared for the unpredictable. Now, go home and get some rest. Tomorrow's another day.”

He dismissed her with a wave of his hand, his stern expression revealing little about his thoughts on the day's events.

Angela approached him cautiously, giving Lucy a nod as they passed each other. "Quite the lesson for your boot, huh?" she remarked, leaning against the corner of the desk.

Tim sighed, rubbing his temples. "Yeah, she needed a reality check. Can't have her thinking this job is a cakewalk."

Angela raised an eyebrow. "You think she'll learn from it?"

"I hope so. Can't afford to have someone who thinks they know it all. This job will chew her up if she doesn't wise up fast," Tim replied, glancing at the paperwork Lucy had just submitted.

Jackson was waiting for Lucy outside the locker rooms as she changed it for the day.

“Hey, hard day?” He asked, pushing himself off the wall he'd been leaning on.

“No,” Lucy sighed, “just not what I was expecting I guess.”

“Common, let's get you home.” Said Jackson as he linked arms with her and guided them to the parking garage.

Chapter Text

Lucy let out a weary sigh as she settled into the passenger seat. She flicked on the radio, content to bop her head along to the familiar tunes and let Jackson drive her home.

As they drove Jackson’s hands fidgeted on the steering wheel, occasionally sneaking a glance over at her. After the fifth time, Lucy raised an eyebrow, and demanded an explanation. “Okay stop looking at me like that, out with it Jackson.”

Jackson quickly averted his eyes to the road, feigning innocence, “Nothing,” he quickly deflected.

“No it’s definitely something, out with it!” She insisted. 

"Fine," he relented. "So, what did you think of him?"

“Yeah, you're right, it is nothing. We're not talking about this.” Said Lucy as she turned the volume louder and looked out her window.

Jackson sighed and turned the music back down, “It's him, right? His name is Tim. Your soulmate's name is Tim, it's got to be him, right?"

Lucy grumbled, "Really regretting telling you his name right about now," she sighed. "Fine, yes, his name is Tim, but like I told him, I don't believe in soulmates. So whether it's him or not, honestly, I don't care, and I'm not interested in finding out."

"Oh, come on, Luce," Jackson started, glancing over at her. "I know that's not true. Can you honestly tell me you didn't feel him today?"

"Yep!” She said, popping the P with a big smack of her lips, earning her a raised eyebrow from him at her smug look. “Look, Jackson, I am not interested in finding out if it's him, and I have no intention of asking him about it. As far as I'm concerned, my soulmate is dead. End of discussion."

Jackson sighed, accepting defeat, as he pulled into her building's parking lot. "Home sweet home. You want me to pick you up again tomorrow?"

"Only if you're going to leave me alone about all this soulmate business, Jackson. I mean it," Lucy said solemnly. "You know the history, I don't want it to hover over me." She turned her big brown eyes to look at him properly. "Please."

Jackson nodded, a sense of understanding in his eyes. "Yeah. Yeah, okay. See you tomorrow then."

With that, Lucy stepped out of the car. Jackson watched her go, as she ascended the steps to her apartment, the engine humming softly in the quiet of the night.

Lucy unlocked her door, entering the quiet sanctuary of her apartment. Flicking on the lights, she dropped her bag in the corner and kicked off her shoes, the weight of the day slowly lifting. 

A craving for comfort led her to the fridge, where last night's leftovers awaited her. She dumped them into a bowl, placing it in the microwave.

As her dinner hummed to life, Lucy strolled to her bathroom, the anticipation of relaxation guiding her steps. The soothing sound of water filled the air as she began to run a bath, generously adding capfuls of bubbles and handfuls of bath salts.

With the microwave's soft ding, signaling her meal was ready, Lucy returned to the kitchen. She reached into the cupboard, retrieving a wine glass, and poured herself a velvety red. Balancing the glass and her food on a tray, she strategically placed it next to the inviting bath.

Lighting a few candles, and shedding her clothes, Lucy sank into the bath, allowing the warm water to envelop her and take away the day's stress. 

Savouring her dinner, Lucy took occasional sips of wine, reflecting on the conversation Jackson had tried to spark. Tim Bradford. Self-righteous, verging on a raging asshole—Tim Bradford. She shook her head, a gesture of dismissal, scolding herself for entertaining thoughts she deemed irrational. "Soulmates do not exist, Lucy," she muttered to herself, trying to reinforce the mantra she clung to. "Even if it is him, it's just an annoying connection of feelings. He is nothing more than your training officer.” 

She purposefully pushed him out of her mind, redirecting her thoughts toward self-improvement for the challenges of tomorrow. "Prepare for the unexpected," she affirmed with a subtle eye roll, a touch of sarcasm colouring her inner monologue.

Setting aside the tray, now carrying only an empty bowl and a used wine glass, Lucy allowed herself to fully immerse into the bath. As she sank deeper into the bubbles, a contented sigh escaped her lips. Lolling her head to the side, she surrendered to the warmth of the water, letting it delicately soothe away the lingering aches and stresses of the day.

The water's soothing warmth lulled Lucy into a drowsy state, almost imperceptibly nudging her toward sleep.

In the gentle embrace of sleep, her dreams transported her back to the familiar setting of Dr. Burnette's office. The therapist's calming voice resonated, guiding Lucy through a mental exercise. 

"We're going to focus on blocking him out," Dr. Burnette instructed. "Breathe, Lucy. Close your eyes, take a deep breath. Locate his emotions within yourself, then build a box around them. Shut the lid tight."

The dream unfolded as Lucy followed the therapist's guidance. Dr. Burnette continued, his words weaving a protective cocoon in Lucy's mind. "When done properly, some describe it as a weight within themselves. It will feel heavy, but you'll learn to live with it. Given enough time, you won't even notice it's there."

Awakening abruptly with a splash of water, Lucy quickly realized that sleep had claimed her. Despite the early hour, she decided to drain the tub and retire to her bed.

Nestled amidst the soft layers of pillows and blankets, Lucy approached the metaphorical box enclosing Tim's emotions with careful consideration. As she gingerly lowered the lid, she allowed herself a fleeting moment to sense the currents of his feelings—loneliness, sadness, a hint of self-loathing perhaps. Then again… she could be wrong, it had been so long since she had allowed herself to feel the full extent of her emotions let alone his, she could be way off base.

A frustrated exhale escaped her, and she promptly sealed the box shut once more. "This is absurd," she chided herself, shaking off the momentary lapse. "None of those emotions reflect the man you met today. It's not him, and soulmates do not exist." With that internal reaffirmation, Lucy closed her eyes, determined to sleep and banish any lingering doubts. Tomorrow would be a better day.

Except it wasn't. 

Jackson, punctual as always, appeared at 7:30 with coffee and a scone in hand. Since Lucy's return from New York, he had quickly learned that a caffeine-deprived Lucy was not one to be around.

Pulling into the station, they changed into their uniforms, entering roll call together. Jackson offered her shoulder a reassuring squeeze, a silent gesture of support, as Lucy walked to take her place at the front of the room. 

Sergeant Grey strode into the room, a file tucked securely under his arm. With a swift motion, he flicked on the TV, the screen illuminating the space as he made his way to the podium, commanding attention of his officers.

He passed a stack of printouts to the closest officer, instructing them to distribute the information throughout the room. "Okay, I'll keep it brief," he began, his voice carrying authority. "We have a BOLO out on this man, name's Selby," he gestured to the screen displaying the suspect's image. "He is believed to be armed and in the company of others. Get a good look, keep your eyes open, and above all, stay safe out there. Dismissed."

Lucy closed her notebook, slipping it into her pocket with practiced ease. With purposeful strides, she made her way to the kit room, her mind already shifting gears for the tasks ahead. As she waited, she took a moment to center herself, engaging in a series of focused breathing exercises to clear away any lingering distractions.

With her emotions carefully shielded behind an impassive mask, Lucy checked out her gear, ensuring everything was in order for the day's duties. With the war bags secured, she moved toward the sally port.

Bradford's greeting was curt, a mere nod of his head, and a terse command, "Get in," his tone leaving no room for discussion.

Well, that was just fine by her. She was here to work, not to make friends. Lucy slid into the passenger seat without a word, her focus squarely on the tasks ahead. The morning unfolded devoid of any signs of their BOLO, with Lucy's attention diverted by what she now referred to as "Tim Tests." Even on her second day on the job, she was swiftly learning that Tim would seize any opportunity to put her skills to the test. So, when she requested a bathroom break after a call, she decided to take a chance.

Stepping into the multi-stall bathroom, Lucy adhered to protocol, confirming no one else was inside. Except instead of ensuring the outer door was securely locked after and immediately tending to her needs, she positioned herself against the wall opposite the door and began a silent countdown. "Five, four, three, two..." and precisely on "one," the door swung open.

"You know, Sir, I really wish you would have just a little more faith in my abilities. I know how to secure a bathroom," she remarked, her tone carrying a hint of smugness.

Tim's eyes widened in surprise. None of his previous rookies had ever caught him off guard like this, and though part of him begrudged the fact, he couldn't help but feel a glimmer of respect for her quick thinking. Suppressing any acknowledgment of this, he simply scowled and grumbled, "Yeah, yeah, just hurry up."

Lucy's smirk widened as she closed and securely locked the door behind Tim. Lucy - 1, Tim - 0. 

Just as they were about to head to the food trucks for lunch, a call crackled through the radio from Dispatch. "7-Adam-19, we have reports of a red vehicle and suspicious activity matching your BOLO suspect's description in your area."

Tim's foot pressed harder on the gas pedal as Lucy reached for their radio, her voice steady. "Show us responding."

With their senses heightened, they scanned the streets for any signs of their target. It was Tim who spotted them first. "Look, there's our guy. What do we do, Boot?"

Lucy swiftly analyzed the situation. "I say we swing around the alley and try to draw them out, and we should call it in. Backup and Airship"

"Good plan. Let's do it," Tim affirmed, maneuvering the car around the block before driving down the narrow alleyway toward the suspect's vehicle. The tension in the air was palpable as they approached, adrenaline coursing through their veins, ready for whatever awaited them at the other end of the alley.

Tim brought the patrol car to a halt, his movements deliberate as he prepared to exit. Before stepping out, he turned to Lucy, his expression serious. "You don't step around this shop for any reason until we get them away from their car. Understood, Boot?"

"Yes, sir," Lucy affirmed with a firm nod.

With a determined resolve, Tim swung open his door and stepped out, his voice commanding authority. "Gentlemen!" he called out, his tone demanding compliance. "Let us see those hands, and step away from the vehicle."

As Lucy stood behind her own door, her heart pounded in her chest, adrenaline coursing through her veins. She watched as Tim pulled out his gun, and she followed suit, her hands steady despite the chaos about to unfold before her. Their suspects remained defiant, ignoring Tim's commands to step away.

"This is the LAPD!" Tim's voice echoed through the alley. "Show me your hands!"

In response, the air erupted with the crack of gunfire. Lucy instinctively ducked, seeking cover until a lull in the barrage gave her the opportunity to return fire. With each shot, her training kicked in, her focus narrowing to the task at hand. But just as she prepared to take aim again, a sickening wave of adrenaline washed over her.

"No," she muttered through gritted teeth. "Not now."

Dr. Burnett's voice echoed in her mind. "Closing yourself to a projection is not like flipping a switch," he had said. "The more willing you are to accept his emotional state into your mind, body, and soul, the stronger the projection will be.”

Lucy's knees trembled with effort as she fought to push down the surge of emotions threatening to overwhelm her. She shook her head, desperately trying to stave off the inevitable. But the visions flooded in despite her efforts—trembling hands, blood-soaked uniform, a duty belt—images that felt all too familiar.

“You’ll need to focus, Lucy” Burnett had told her, “There’s no way to practise until you’re in the moment of a projection. When you feel his emotions come through, push them down. Fight his presence, don’t let him in” 

"Dammit, not now!" she all but yelled, her voice tinged with frustration and fear. With a renewed sense of determination, she reached for the radio at her hip, her fingers trembling as she relayed the urgent call for backup.

"7-Adam-19, shots fired, shots fired. Officer down, I need an RA to my location, right the hell now! And where is my backup!" Her voice quivered with urgency as she awaited a response, every second feeling like an eternity in the chaos of the alleyway.

Chapter Text

Agony tore through Tim's body. With a gut-wrenching impact, he crumpled to the ground, every nerve ablaze with searing pain. For a fleeting moment, the shock of the gunshot sent him spiralling into darkness.

Blinking through the pain and initial panic, he forced his eyes open, the world swimming in a blurry haze. His gaze darted downward, tracing the origin of the searing agony to his abdomen. Okay. He registered the source of his injury before succumbing once more to the suffocating embrace of unconsciousness.

In the muffled chaos that enveloped him, fragments of reality pierced through the fog of his mind. Lucy's voice, distant yet urgent, called out for backup. He strained to make sense of her words, his thoughts muddled and fragmented. "Jackson! It's him..." The words echoed in his consciousness, a puzzle he couldn't decipher amidst the throbbing agony.

No. He must have misheard. The thought flickered faintly in his mind before being swallowed by a tidal wave of pain. Oh God, he hurt. Every fiber of his being screamed in protest as the world blurred into an indistinct blur of chaos.

A sharp slap across his cheek jolted him back to a cruel semblance of reality. Someone was there, their voice a distant echo through the haze of pain. "Hey. Hey-hey, stay awake. We have to move. Push with your feet." The urgency in their tone pierced through the fog of agony, spurring him to action despite the relentless torment.

With a low groan of agony, Tim summoned every ounce of strength he had left, his body protesting with every movement. But he complied, pushing through the excruciating pain as he fought to cling to consciousness.

He was loaded onto an ambulance stretcher, the world around him swirled in a blur of chaos and confusion continuing to fragment his memory. Through the haze of pain, he caught glimpses of Lucy's worried eyes. The hospital loomed ahead.

Surgery? The thought jolted through Tim's mind with an unwelcome surge of defiance. Oh hell no, he was too good for that. His pride bristled at the notion of relinquishing control, of surrendering to the vulnerability of the operating table. 

Yet as he attempted to protest, someone's firm grip restrained his body, the touch a silent command to yield. Despite his instinctual resistance, Tim had no choice but to comply, his body going limp as the lingering tendrils of pain gradually receded into the background and a new warmth rushing through his body. Morphine.

- - - 

Tim stirred, gradually awakening from the depths of unconsciousness. To his relief, he found himself free from the agonising pain that had plagued him before. His mouth was dry, and he licked his lips to alleviate the dryness.

A straw pressed against his lips, offering a lifeline of hydration, and he eagerly drank from it, the cool liquid soothing his parched throat. But a gentle voice broke through the haze, urging him to slow down. "Hey, not so fast. Take it slow, Tim," Angela's voice, laced with concern, interrupted his desperate gulps.

Peeking through heavy eyelids, Tim managed a weak chuckle. "Huh, well, I know I'm not dead if you're here."

"Ha, ha, very funny," Angela replied, her facade of amusement crumbling to reveal the worry etched on her features. "You gave us quite a scare."

Tim's lips curled into a rueful smile. "Yeah, sorry 'bout that. Totally meant to dodge that bullet," he quipped.

"Isabel was here earlier," Angela gently informed him, her voice carrying a softness born of understanding. "She said she'd come back later."

At the mention of his wife's name, Tim's heart skipped a beat, and a wave of relief washed over him, softening the tense lines of his face. "Good," he murmured, the gratitude evident in his voice. "That's, uh, thanks for letting me know."

They lingered in an awkward silence, the beep of the hospital’s monitors the only sound between them. "How long was I out?" Tim finally asked, breaking the tension.

"A couple of hours," Angela replied, nodding toward the window where Lucy sat, her face the emotionless mask Tim had been learning over the past two days. "Your Boot still hasn't left."

Grumpy TO Tim settled back into his demeanor, "Yeah well, tell her to get back to the station and write her report.” he instructed, “I don't need anyone wasting their time on me. That goes for you too."

"Oh, yes sir!" Angela responded with a mock salute, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes as she rose to leave. "I'll be back tomorrow. Are you sure you don't need anything?"

Tim offered her a small, appreciative smile. "Nah, I'm good. Thanks, Lopez." After a brief pause, he hesitated before speaking again. "Wait." Angela turned back toward him, curiosity flickering in her eyes. "I need someone to look after my boy while I'm stuck here," he admitted sheepishly.

Angela rolled her eyes, a fond exasperation colouring her expression. "Fine," she relented with a playful sigh, her genuine concern for her colleague shining through despite the teasing.

- - -

Lucy sat there, her gaze fixed on a point in the distance, her mind consumed by a relentless mantra: Soulmates do not exist.

Angela approached her with a gentle touch on her shoulder. "Chen, come on, you've had a long day. Let's get you back to the station."

Lucy blinked, as if emerging from a trance, and nodded silently, her expression weary. With Angela's support, she rose from her chair, her movements mechanical as she followed her colleague out of the hospital.

The journey back to the station passed in silence, the weight of the day's events hanging heavy in the air. Lucy offered only a brief mumble of acknowledgment, her thoughts already drifting toward the mundane tasks awaiting her.

As they arrived at the station, Lucy murmured a quick farewell, her voice tinged with exhaustion. "Gonna get cleaned up and do my paperwork," she stated, her words clipped as she turned away.

 As Lucy finished documenting the day's harrowing events in her report, Sergeant Grey and Jackson approached her desk with a sense of solemnity. "Lucy, Jackson is going to drive you home. Take the rest of the day and tomorrow off," Sergeant Grey announced, his voice carrying a note of concern.

Jackson gently gripped Lucy's elbow, urging her to rise from her seat. "Come on, Lu," he said softly, offering her a supportive smile.

Before they could depart, Angela rounded the corner with an urgent expression. "Hey, wait!" she called out, drawing their attention. "Chen, there's one more thing." With a swift motion, she tossed a set of keys toward Lucy, who caught them with a raised eyebrow, her curiosity piqued.

"Yeah," Angela continued, pulling out her cell phone and tapping away. "I'm texting you an address. I don't do dogs. Especially this one, he's like the Tasmanian Devil. Good luck!" With a mischievous smirk, she turned on her heel and disappeared down the hallway, leaving Lucy and Jackson to exchange bemused glances.

- - -

Lucy barely registered the passage of time as Jackson once again drove her home. the passing scenery blurred into a meaningless backdrop to her thoughts. Conversation between them was sparse, limited to a brief acknowledgment from Lucy, "We'll talk about it later... I just can't right now." Her inner mantra of "Soulmates do not exist" continued to echo relentlessly in her mind, even as she then drove herself to the address Lopez had texted.

Arriving at Tim's house, Lucy unlocked the door and stepped inside, greeted instantly by a whirlwind of excitement. A small ball of fur shot toward her, barking joyously and attempting to leap into her arms. "Down, hey! Down, boy, down!" Lucy exclaimed, struggling to fend off the enthusiastic welcome. "I need to turn the alarm off, stop that!" She hurriedly made her way to the alarm panel, her attempts to calm the overzealous dog interrupted by his persistent attempts at affection.

Lucy swiftly punched in the code Angela had also texted, and with a relieved sigh, she turned her attention to the exuberant dog before her, bending down to properly greet her new canine friend.

"There, see, that's better, isn't it?" Lucy cooed, reaching for the tag on his collar. "Kojo. That's better, isn't it, Kojo? Oh, who's a good boy?" She showered him with affection, spending a moment giving him ear scratches and gentle kisses as he wagged his tail with unbridled enthusiasm.

"Okay, buddy, let's find you something to eat, huh?" Lucy rose to her feet and made her way through the house, tapping her leg as a cue for Kojo to follow her.

Tim's house had a certain understated elegance, she observed, though it lacked the warmth of personal touches. The entry opened into a spacious living room, its walls painted a cool white and adorned with only a simple clock, its hands ticking away the passing seconds.

"I guess he and Isabel aren't ones for memorabilia," Lucy mused with a shrug, her thoughts drifting back to her task as she continued into the kitchen. Kojo's food and water bowls were neatly arranged against the edge of the island, and she located his food tucked away in a cabinet to the right. She filled his bowls and settled onto the floor beside him as he eagerly devoured his meal.

"I'm Lucy, by the way..." Lucy spoke softly, "In some alternate universe, I think I'd probably be your mama, but... Yeah... I'm just Lucy." She offered a small, sad laugh. Part of her was thankful Tim was probably still under the effects of anaesthesia, and drugs, so she didn’t have to be as careful with her emotions. 

Leaving Kojo to finish his meal, Lucy meandered back to the living room, her curiosity piqued by the small bookcase nestled next to the couch. With a gentle creak of the floorboards, she bent slightly to peruse the titles. Dan Brown, John Grisham, Tom Clancy—familiar names that spoke of Tim's literary tastes.

Her fingers brushed over the novels, lingering momentarily on each title before she selected one with a well-worn spine. She pulled it out, revealing its pages worn from countless readings. Nearby, a small cup held an assortment of bookmarks, and Lucy reached for one, tucking it randomly between the pages.

Lucy went to slip the book into her purse, she noticed Kojo had finished eating as she passed by. With a smile, she grabbed his leash from its hook beside the door.

"Kojo, let's go for walkies!" she called out, her voice filled with playful enthusiasm. The dog's ears perked up at the familiar command, and he bounded toward her with a joyful bark, ready for their outdoor adventure together. With the leash in hand and Kojo by her side, Lucy headed out the door.

They walked for a good 45 minutes, the gentle rhythm of their footsteps echoing against the quiet neighborhood streets. They paused occasionally to allow Kojo to do his business, sniff at patches of grass or investigate intriguing scents left behind by other dogs.

As they returned to the house, Lucy glanced at her watch, a pang of regret tugging at her heart. "Okay, buddy," she said, crouching down to ruffle Kojo's fur affectionately, "I have to run, but I'll be back soon to let you out again before bed, okay?" 

- - -

Tim flicked lazily through the limited TV channels the hospital had to offer, his mind restless and his attention drifting aimlessly. Some sort of cooking show flickered across the screen, followed by a police drama (pass), and then the news (again, pass). Finally, he settled on an episode of Wheel of Fortune, his eyes narrowing in frustration as he watched a contestant make what he deemed to be poor choices.

"Why would you buy a vowel? Call for a T!" he grumbled at the television, his irritation evident in his voice.

A soft giggle broke through the quiet of the hospital room, and Tim turned his head quickly toward the sound, his face breaking into a genuine smile. "Hey," he started tentatively, his expression softening as he saw Isabel standing in the doorway. "I wasn't sure you'd stop in."

"Well, I do work here," Isabel quipped with a playful grin. She stepped into the room and gestured toward the TV. "You always did hate it when the players called for vowels. Nice to see some things don't change."

Tim chuckled, a warm feeling spreading through him at the familiar banter. "Yeah, well, in the final round, they give you R, S, T, L, N, E... why bother calling for a vowel without figuring out the most basic letters first?" He glanced at Isabel expectantly, ready to continue their conversation.

"So..." Tim began, but Isabel cut in at the same time, “Listen Tim”. 

"Sorry, you go first," Tim waved his hand, deferring to her.

"Thanks, listen, Tim," Isabel started gently, her tone filled with sincerity. "I'm glad you're okay. When I saw it was your in the ambulance… I wasn’t allowed to work on you and I went crazy. Seriously, I was one of those stereotypical wives, yelling at the nurses and doctors for updates... except I actually work with them, so... I'll have to say some apologies tomorrow." Her voice softened with genuine concern as she reached out to squeeze Tim's hand, her eyes reflecting the depth of her emotions.

Isabel pulled a chair closer to Tim's hospital bed and sat down, her heart heavy with the weight of her decision. She reached out, grasping his hand tightly. "I can't..." she trailed off, her voice trembling with emotion. "I can't do this again, Tim."

Her eyes searched his, brimming with unspoken anguish. "For so many years, I've worried if you'd come home to me, and after today... after getting that call?" A tear escaped, tracing a path down her cheek as she looked down at their joined hands. "I'm not strong enough, Tim. I think it's time we face things head-on. I think it's time we file for divorce."

Tim's heart sank at her words, a sharp pang of fear and sadness coursing through him. He grunted in pain as he tried to push himself to a sitting position, but the movement pulled on his stitches, and Isabel gently pushed him back, her touch a bittersweet reminder of their shared history. "Shh, shh, babe, don't move so quickly," she whispered, her voice laced with tenderness. "You'll hurt yourself."

"Isabel, please," Tim pleaded, desperation creeping into his tone. "I thought we were going to work through this. I moved out, to give you space, just like you asked. I..." His words trailed off, his heart heavy with the realization of what their marriage had become. "Baby, please, I'll retire. I'll find a good desk job somewhere, please."

Isabel rose from her seat, releasing his hand with a heavy heart. "Tim, we both know you love the job too much," she murmured, her voice tinged with sorrow. "I'm tired, Tim," Isabel continued, her voice trembling with raw emotion. "I want to live my life again. I come here every day, work my butt off down in that ER, try like hell to make sure no one ever has to know what it feels like to lose their soulmate. And I'm exhausted." Tears continued to slip down her face, each one a silent testament to the pain she carried in her heart. "The last few years, I've worked more and more, because I think it's become an escape for me... Help others so I don't have to worry about you every moment..." Her voice broke, a small sob escaping her lips. "But first Will, and now you? You could have ended up just like him, and I'm tired of the worry, Tim. I want my life back. I want to have free time again, and be able to enjoy it, and not worry about you every second of the day..."

Tim's heart ached at her words, the depth of her anguish cutting him to the core. He reached out, his hand trembling as he brushed away her tears, his own eyes glistening with unshed emotion. "Isabel," he whispered, his voice choked with sorrow and regret. "I'm so sorry. I never wanted to be a burden to you, to hold you back from living your life."

She leaned down to press a gentle kiss against his lips, cupping his cheek in a tender gesture of farewell. "I love you, that will never change," she whispered, tears glistening in her eyes. "We gave it our best shot, right?"

With a tearful smile, she moved toward the door, her steps heavy with the weight of their shared history. "I'll call my lawyer in the morning, have her draft the papers. Bye, Tim." And with that, she turned and hurried out of the room.

"N-no, Isabel, wait, baby, please, let's talk about this some more," Tim called after her, his voice filled with desperation. But his pleas fell on deaf ears, and he tried to get out of the bed to chase after her, but once again, he cried out in pain as his movements pulled on his wounded body, mirroring the agony in his heart.

Lucy pressed herself against the wall, feeling as if she had been caught in the whirlwind of Isabel and Tim's unravelling marriage. She could hear Tim's desperate cries of "Baby, wait" echoing in the corridor as Isabel rushed past her, her white coat billowing behind her like a ghostly reminder of their shattered love.

Feeling a pang of guilt and uncertainty gnawing at her, Lucy looked down at the book gripped tightly in her hands, the weight of it suddenly feeling heavier than ever. This was a stupid idea, she scolded herself silently. Stupid, stupid, stupid. What had possessed her to think that showing up like this would make any difference? She was just his rookie, and he wouldn't appreciate her intrusion, no matter how well-meaning.

With a resigned sigh, Lucy tapped the book between her fingers, her thoughts swirling with doubt and frustration. She pursed her lips, nodding to herself as if trying to convince herself of something.

"Soulmates do not exist," she whispered to herself. With one last glance back at Tim's room she walked away, her footsteps echoing in the empty corridor.

Chapter Text

Lucy stopped to take a drink out of her water bottle, the cool liquid providing a brief relief from the warmth of the late morning sun. She had taken Kojo out for a big walk this morning, determined to give him some much-needed attention after spending the night alone in the house. It was sunny, not a cloud in the sky, and she felt a twinge of guilt for the poor little guy.

"All alone in the house all night, no, that simply would not do," she murmured to herself. So a hike it was, and she planned to spend the afternoon with him too, making up for lost time.

Kojo trotted alongside her, his tail wagging happily as he explored the surrounding area. He was certainly well-trained, not that she was surprised, considering he had Tim as an owner. Even now, as she stopped to enjoy the scenery, he was silently sniffing the ground, not pulling on his leash or trying to get away from her.

As Lucy resumed her walk, she felt her phone buzz in her pocket for what she counted as the fourth time that morning. With a sigh, she pulled it out, unlocking the screen to find four missed calls from Jackson. A message popped up just as she checked.

Jackson: Hey, Lucy. Everything okay? Give me a call when you get a chance. Need to talk.

She frowned as she typed out her response,

Lucy: I told you, I don’t want to talk about it.

Jackson: You can’t avoid this forever

Jackson: Luce….

Lucy: Jackson, this changes nothing. He will NEVER know who I am, do I make myself clear

Jackson: Alright Luce, I hear you. Just remember you still have people who care about you…. I’m here when.. If… you want to talk. 

Lucy sighed softly as she slipped her phone back into her pocket, her mind still wrestling with the conversation with Jackson. With a gentle tug on Kojo's leash, she guided him along the path as they continued their walk.

As they returned to Tim's house, Lucy decided it was best to let Kojo rest after their long walk. She unlocked the door and ushered Kojo inside, making sure he had plenty of water and a comfortable spot to relax.

Today, Lucy had come well-prepared for her day with Kojo. She popped the trunk of her car and retrieved her bag, excitement bubbling within her as she made her way inside Tim's house.

Sitting down on the couch, Lucy began to unpack her bag, spreading its contents out before her. She had brought along a new chew toy for Kojo, a couple treats, some snacks for herself, and her latest crochet project.

As she settled in, Lucy couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over her. She glanced over at Kojo, who was eagerly wagging his tail, and invited him up onto the couch to snuggle with her.

With Kojo nestled beside her, Lucy began to lose herself in the rhythm of her crochet project, the soft yarn slipping through her fingers as she worked. 

- - -

The next day brought Lucy back to reality, the routine of her job pulling her back into its grasp. However, she made sure to rise early, determined to check on Kojo and take him for a walk before she headed off to work.

At roll call, Sergeant Grey paired her with Lopez as her temporary training officer while Tim was still in recovery. Despite the circumstances, Lucy found herself grateful for the change of pace.

The morning unfolded with surprising ease, the calls mostly minor disturbances that were quickly resolved. Unlike Tim, Lopez didn't make Lucy choose or pay for lunch; instead, she extended a friendly invitation for Lucy to join her, which she gladly accepted.

As they sat together during their break, Lucy found herself feeling a potential friendship with Lopez, a refreshing change of pace after the chaos of Tim's shooting. 

Lunch was finished, and the two women leaned back in their chairs, enjoying the break from their duties as they sipped on their drinks.

"You know," Angela began, her tone thoughtful, "I've been trying to figure out where I know you from. I think I've finally figured it out."

Lucy's curiosity piqued, and she raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? Where's that now?" She couldn't help but wonder what connection Angela could have possibly unearthed.

Angela chuckled softly before answering, "It was... Pfft... 15 maybe 16 years ago? We were on the bus together."

Lucy's eyes widened in surprise as Angela continued her revelation. "You'd just had your first projection."

The memory flooded back to Lucy, the haze of adolescence making it all seem like a distant dream. "That was you?" she exclaimed, a mixture of disbelief and gratitude evident in her voice. "I barely even remember... You really helped me that day."

"Did you ever find your soulmate?" Angela asked, her voice gentle with curiosity.

Lucy's expression softened, her gaze drifting off into the distance as she contemplated the question. "No," she said softly, a hint of sadness tingeing her words. "No, I never did." 

Angela hummed thoughtfully, a wistful smile gracing her lips. "Weird, isn't it? The plans the universe has got for us."

Eager to shift the focus away from herself, Lucy asked, "What about you? Have you met your soulmate?"

Angela's eyes lit up with excitement, her voice tinged with affection as she spoke of her beloved. "Oh, Wesley, yes," she gushed. "A few years back now. He's a lawyer." She held up her hand preemptively, as if to ward off any potential skepticism. "I know, I know, but what can you do, right? Anyway, he figured out how to control his projections and started writing me little notes on how to find him."

The two strolled back to their shop, their conversation flowing effortlessly between them. "Hey, what are you doing tonight?" Angela inquired, a hint of excitement in her voice. "Wesley and I are going to dinner. You should come along."

"That actually sounds really nice, but can I take a rain check?" Lucy replied with a smile. "I promised Kojo we'd watch Top Chef after our walk tonight," she chuckled.

"Ah, yes, the devil dog. How are things going with that?" Angela teased. "Bet you can't wait for Tim to get back so you don't have to look after him anymore."

"Oh my gosh, Lopez!" Lucy exclaimed, rolling her eyes playfully. "I don't know how you can't like him. He is the absolute cutest furball in the world. Honestly, I might not let Bradford have him back."

"Nah, girl, I swear the two of you are the only ones who actually like that dog. Anyway," Angela waved her hand to indicate she was done with that topic, "Tim gets out of the hospital day after tomorrow, you'll have your scheduled time off, and then back with me until he's cleared to come back. You cool with that?"

Lucy nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Yeah, sounds good. Thanks, Lopez."

The following evening, Lucy brought over a salmon steak for Kojo. "Okay, bubba. Your dad comes home in the morning. So this is our last night together. I'm making you a nice dinner, and then we are going to snuggle up for one last round of Food Network. What do you say?"

Kojo merely tilted his head in answer, making Lucy giggle as she scratched his ears affectionately. She'd bought him a salmon steak, which she cooked up and mixed with his kibble. After dinner, she cleaned up, murmuring to Kojo about how his dad would never know she was there. Then she let him up on the couch as promised.

"Here, my boy. I finished this for you," she said, pulling out of her bag the crochet project she had been working on. It was a buttercup yellow blanket, made out of the softest yarn she was able to find at the craft store. "So you'll have something to remember me by. I slept with it last night so it will smell like me," she said as she draped it over the two of them, a bittersweet smile on her face.

- - -

As Tim sat in the hospital room, dressed in his street clothes and feeling somewhat restored, he couldn't help but grumble under his breath. The hospital policy requiring patients to be wheeled out in a wheelchair felt like an unnecessary indignity to him, especially given his pride as a seasoned police officer.

"Is this really necessary?" Tim grumbled as he sat in the wheelchair Angela offered.

Angela tried and failed to suppress a smile, "Sure is! It's hospital policy, you know that.”

"It's a stupid policy," he muttered, his cheeks flushing slightly at the implication that he needed to be coddled like a child

Angela tried to help him into the passenger seat of her car, but Tim pulled his arm out of her grasp, grumbling under his breath about not needing her help. 

"Tim, just let me help you," Angela insisted, her tone firm yet gentle as she reached out to steady him. "You're still recovering, and I don't want you to overexert yourself.”

Tim huffed in annoyance but reluctantly allowed Angela to assist him, though he made sure to express his irritation with more mutterings of “being a grown-ass man."

As they settled in the car and began to drive Angela glanced at him "You know, I’m surprised you asked me to drive you home, and not Isabel."

Tim's jaw clenched as he hesitated, but finally, he sighed heavily and decided to share the truth. "She wants a divorce... Officially," he said quietly. "Didn't really seem like the thing I should be asking."

Angela put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "I'm sorry."

Tim snorted, "No, you're not. You never liked her."

"No, no, that's not true!" She insisted, "I just never understood your relationship."

"Yeah, well... That makes all of us, apparently.” he fixed his gaze on the passing scenery outside the car window for the remainder of their drive.

As they approached his house, Tim noticed an unfamiliar car in his driveway. "Who's here?" He asked, his brow furrowing with confusion.

"Oh, right, forgot to tell you," Angela hesitated, her tone shifting. "I sorta pawned off Kojo”

Even with Angela telling him that she had arranged for his Rookie to take care of Kojo, nothing could have prepared him for the sight that greeted him when he entered his home.

There, snuggled on the couch, under a soft yellow blanket, was his rookie, with Kojo firmly pressed against her side, head resting in her lap. Both asleep, their peaceful faces softened by the warm morning light filtering through the windows.

With a mischievous grin, Tim cleared his throat and pulled out his phone. "Rise and shine, Boot!" he yelled out loudly, relishing in the opportunity to startle her awake. He snapped a quick photo as her eyes fluttered open.

Was his personal life in shambles? Yes. But did he take great enjoyment out of the startled look on his rookie's face? Absolutely yes. Did that make him feel a little better? Also yes.

Startled and disoriented, Lucy shot up from the couch, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she realized she had fallen asleep. She stumbled over her words, stammering half-formed sentences of apology as she hastily gathered her things. "Sir, you're here. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sleep. He was lonely. I'll go. He hasn't had breakfast. Or a walk... Or, um, okay I'm going to go. Bye. Sorry."

With a smirk, Tim watched as she practically sprinted out of the house, leaving him amused and feeling a touch of satisfaction.

Lucy hurried to her car, barely noticing Angela still parked in the driveway as she threw her own car into reverse and sped away. She made it two blocks before she had to pull over. Putting her head in her hands, she groaned, "Oh my god. I fell asleep in his house."

Her phone pinged, and it was Angela.

Ofc Lopez: LoL you should have seen your face. It was like you saw a ghost!

Lucy: You could have warned me!

Ofc Lopez: Literally told you two days ago he was being discharged, what more did you need?

Lucy: That was mortifying. I need a drink.

Ofc Lopez: I mean, it's not even 10 am, but I'm down. Where to?

Lucy: Karaoke bar downtown. I'll text Jackson. Tonight. 8 pm I'll meet you there.

Lucy: Lopez and I are going drinking tonight. Karaoke bar downtown, you in?

Jackson: sounds like a healthy coping mechanism….

Lucy: In. Or out.

Jackson: I mean I'm always in for karaoke

Lucy: great, see you at 8

That night, Lucy dressed to impress, wearing a black dress that hugged her curves, complemented by a sparkly sheer blouse and knee-high boots. Her hair cascaded in perfect curls, with one side elegantly pinned back, and her makeup was flawlessly applied. Having already booked a hotel just around the corner from the bar, she was determined to drink enough tequila to not be able to make it home.

Entering the bar, Lucy was immediately enveloped by the vibrant ambiance. The music was too loud, people were singing along off-key, and laughter filled the air. It was exactly what she needed, a music filled night, to clear her head. She headed to the bar, ready to drown her troubles in a sea of tequila shots and karaoke.

She asked the bartender for a tequila sunrise and a shot for while she waited. Lucy slammed back the shot the bartender handed her, relishing the slight burn down her throat before sipping on her tequila sunrise. Surveying the crowd, she spotted Jackson and Lopez at a table near the back of the room. "Hey guys!" she called out, waving her hand in the air in greeting.

Making her way over to her friends, she exclaimed, "Eek! Thank you so much for coming out tonight. No more Kojo duties means I can finally let loose!"

Angela teased, "Ha! I knew you didn't like him as much as you said!"

Lucy shook her head, smiling. "Oh no, don't get me wrong, Kojo will forever be my boy, but a girl needs to let loose!"

Turning to Jackson, she yelled over the karaoke music, "What are we singing tonight?"

"Uhm, our favorite, of course!" he replied, grinning. "But there's a few more songs still ahead of us."

"Oh goodie!" Angela exclaimed, rubbing her hands together maniacally. "I need to hear all about how you two became besties."

Lucy chuckled. "I mean, not much to tell. I was this dorky girl in elementary school. We're talking coke bottle glasses, a love of the Spice Girls right down to the dance moves, the whole nine."

"And naturally, I see this kid on the playground listening to her walkman and dancing, I knew instantly I had found my new best friend," Jackson interjected.

"And the rest is history," Lucy concluded with a grin.

“Hey, I'm going to get us another round,” said Jackson, quickly disappearing toward the bar.

"So, why a police officer?" Angela continued.

Lucy took a moment to ponder, chewing on her straw. "Honestly, I just want to help people. I have a degree in psychology, yes. But after my ex pointed out that maybe that wasn't the right route for me to go, I decided I wanted to find other ways. Mind you, I still put my degree to good use while I figured out what I really wanted to do."

"With the kids at the youth center?" Angela supplied, nodding. "Tim told me."

Lucy nodded in confirmation. "I really did have fun working there, but it kind of made me realize I wanted to help those going through more of a crisis. I want to help people who don't know how to ask for help. That's why I want to join CIT."

Angela nodded in understanding. "That's admirable, and it takes a big heart to help like that."

Just then, Jackson returned from the bar with their drinks, and the conversation drifted to lighter topics as they enjoyed their night out.

Soon it was Lucy and Jackson's turn to hop on the stage, singing their favorite 'Don't You (Forget About Me)'. They had so much fun, and had the crowd singing and dancing along. Then, of course, the three of them put their names down for as many songs as they could.

After their last song, they took a much-needed break. As the trio settled into their corner of the karaoke bar, Angela and Jackson couldn't help but notice the lingering glances directed Lucy's way from across the room. A handsome stranger sat at the bar, his eyes locked onto her with an intensity that didn't go unnoticed.

"Hey Lucy," Angela said, nudging her shoulder, "clock the hotty at the bar, he's barely taken his eyes off you all night."

"Oh, stop," said Lucy, rolling her eyes. "He's probably just enjoying the music."

"No, it's true, Luce! I've noticed him too," said Jackson.

Lucy looked over to where they were pointing, and their eyes connected instantly. With a smile tugging at the corners of her lips, she excused herself from the table, saying slyly to her friends, "You know, I think I need more of a distraction tonight... don't wait up!"

"Hey, text me later!" called Jackson. Lucy's only response was to wave her hand as she made her way to her mystery admirer. Angela and Jackson watched with bated breath, silently cheering her on as Lucy sauntered away.

As she walked closer, she could see his features more defined: light brown hair, slightly wavy, falling across his forehead, and stunning green eyes.

"My friends tell me I have an admirer," she said by way of introduction.

"Hmm, they might be right," he said with a chuckle. "What can I say, a beautiful woman, with an even more beautiful voice, I couldn't help myself."

"Okay, in that case, I have three questions," she said, popping onto a stool.

Her mystery man leaned in close, "Okay, shoot."

And so began a quick round of question and answers.

"Soulmate?"

"Not yet. You?"

"Same. Job?"

"Veterinary Assistant, yours?"

"Oh, you work with animals!" Lucy bounced in her seat. "Police officer."

"A woman who carries a gun for a living, nice."

"Intimidated?"

"Not at all."

"Okay, last question," said Lucy, leaning closer. "I've had a hard few days and need a distraction. Can you help?"

"Oh, I would be happy to help with that," he said, smirking.

Lucy slid off her stool and proffered her hand. "Lucy."

He took her hand and shook it firmly. "Caleb.”

That night, Lucy was grateful for her foresight in booking a hotel room. The moment they stepped into the room, the air between them shifted, charged with a quiet anticipation. Without a word, Caleb closed the distance between them, his touch igniting a fire within Lucy that had been smoldering since she had laid eyes on him. As they melted into each other, the world outside faded away, leaving only the warmth of their bodies and the sweet whispers of desire. Hours passed in a haze of passion, leaving Lucy's mind blissfully free from any thoughts about Tim being her soulmate.

- - - 

A few days later, back on shift, Angela slyly glanced at Lucy. "Sooooo..... How'd it go with the hotty from the bar the other night?"

Lucy smirked, her expression a mix of satisfaction and intrigue. "Well, let's just say it was a memorable evening."

"Planning on seeing him again?" Angela inquired.

"Maybe," Lucy shrugged, "We exchanged phone numbers, but nothing's set in stone." she said nonchalantly.

Angela hesitated before asking, "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," Lucy nodded.

"You told Tim that you don't believe in soulmates... But I was there when you had your first projection. I know how strong it was for you," Angela said, her tone cautious.

Lucy's gaze drifted out the window as she twirled her earring nervously. "Is there a question in there?" she prompted.

"I guess... I guess I'm just wondering why you don't believe. After having such a visceral reaction, how do you not believe in the soulmate connection?" Angela inquired.

Lucy fell silent, her hands finding their way into her lap. "It's complicated," she finally said softly.

"How so?" Angela pressed gently, she paused. “If it’s not my business, just say so, you don’t have to tell me.”

Taking a deep breath, Lucy gathered her thoughts. "Listen, the thing I need you to know, to understand... It's that... I've worked hard to be here, maybe more than most." She paused, gathering her courage. "Do you remember on the application forms when they asked about relationship status?"

Angela nodded, her brow furrowing in confusion.

Lucy looked down at her hands, pushing her cuticles with her nails. Taking a deep breath, Lucy felt the weight of her confession. "I'm... I'm an Unchosen," she admitted quietly.

Angela's eyes widened in surprise as Lucy continued. "You have no idea the extra hoops I had to jump through. Evaluations on my mental state, my personality... all to ensure that I would not be a danger to those I wanted to swear to protect." She huffed a small laugh, “I’m an Unchosen for a reason after all.”

"Lucy," Angela said softly, her voice filled with empathy.

Raising her hand, Lucy silenced her. "Please let me finish... Labels are just that, labels... But the worst ones... they brand you for life. I guess... maybe... it's just easier to tell myself that soulmates don't exist than to really face my own label," she admitted with a small smile and a shrug. "Sergeant Grey and the higher-ups were kind enough to let me keep my status hidden for as long as I wish. I hope I can trust you to respect that and do the same.”

Angela reached out a comforting hand towards Lucy, and nodded, “Your secret is safe with me, Lucy. I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”  

- - - 

The call they responded to a few weeks later, Lucy referred to as the one that solidified her choice in joining CIT.

"7-Adam-7, we have reports of a woman standing on the roof of a building near your location. CIT is en route, but you have been requested to see if you can deescalate the situation until they get there."

Angela and Lucy exchanged looks, and Lucy swiftly grabbed their radio. "7-Adam-7, responding."

Angela pushed their vehicle to its limit as they rushed toward the address given. They immediately spotted the woman in question and bolted into the building, taking the stairs two at a time all the way up to the 12th floor. They paused as they reached the door at the top, wanting to proceed cautiously so as not to startle her further.

"Okay, Boot, you want to join CIT, let's see what you got," said Angela, her tone firm yet supportive.

Lucy widened her eyes, feeling the weight of the moment. "I hardly think this is the..." 

But Angela cut her off, her gaze unwavering. "There will NEVER be a right time. But right now, that woman is in crisis. If you're serious about CIT, then get out there and prove it, Boot.”

"Okay," Lucy relented. She took a deep breath and gently pushed open the access door, Angela following close behind.

Lucy's heart clenched as she cautiously approached the woman, who had climbed over the other side of the safety railing. "Ma'am," Lucy said, slowing her steps as she entered talking range.

"D-don't. Don't come any closer," said the woman, turning slightly towards Lucy, tears streaming down her face. "I'll do it. I'll jump."

Lucy stopped, holding up her hands. "Okay, okay. I'll just stand right here... My name's Lucy. Can you tell me yours?"

"Denise," came the response before she looked back out to the city beyond her.

"What are we doing up here, Denise?" Lucy asked gently.

Denise turned to look at Lucy again, tears still streaming. "I just want it to stop. I just want to make it ALL stop."

"Make what stop, honey?"

"The emptiness," Denise sobbed. "I feel so... Empty. It's so quiet without him."

Lucy immediately understood the pain in Denise's words. "You've lost your soulmate."

Denise could only nod.

Lucy gently took a few steps forward, motioning to Angela to stay behind.

"Denise, I can't imagine how you must be feeling," she said softly, her heart aching for the woman's pain, "but you know your soulmate wouldn't want this."

Denise shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper, "it-it doesn't matter, he's gone."

"I know, and I'm truly so sorry for that Denise, I am." Lucy took another step towards Denise, her compassion evident in her eyes, "can you tell me about him? What was his name?"

Denise sniffed, her tears flowing freely, "Adam."

Lucy took another step, her movements careful and deliberate, "okay, that's good. What did Adam do?"

"He was a soldier. He died in the line of duty."

And that was something Lucy could relate to. "My soulmate was a soldier too," she admitted, her voice tinged with sadness.

"Was?" Denise asked.

"Yeah... he's not anymore, but I know a little bit about what he went through from his projections." Lucy thought for a moment, her gaze distant. "I studied psychology in college... I know that your Adam is gone, and I'm truly, truly sorry for that, but," she took a step, finally reaching Denise, "He may have left this world, but he's not gone Denise, not really. The love you shared remains.”

Denise trembled, her hands gripping the ledge tightly as if it were her only anchor to reality. "What... What do you mean?" she whispered.

"Search inside yourself. Deep down, where you used to feel him. Go on, I'll wait," Lucy coached gently. "Close your eyes and remember the moments when you felt his love most deeply. Feel it within yourself, in the warmth of your heart. It's not just a memory, it's a force within you, a presence. His presence.”

Slowly, tentatively, Denise closed her eyes, her breath shaky as she allowed herself to remember. And in that quiet moment, amidst the chaos and pain, Lucy saw a flicker of peace wash over Denise's features. It was a small victory, but in that moment, Lucy knew she had reached her.

"You feel that?" Lucy questioned softly. "That's him. That's your Adam. See, once you've felt the love of your soulmate, they can never truly leave you. He might not be here with you physically, honey, but his love will never leave you. He's a part of you.”

Lucy extended her hand, "Take my hand, Denise. Keep Adam's love alive, choose to live. For him. And then maybe someday, someday you'll be able to choose to live for yourself too."

Denise took a trembling hand off the railing and placed it in Lucy's, a glimmer of hope shining in her eyes. She allowed Lucy to help her back across to safety. "Thank you," she said as she collapsed against Lucy.

Lucy held Denise in a hug, gently rocking her, and glanced toward Angela, who nodded in support, "You did good, Boot. You did good.”

- - -

"Tim, I'm telling you, it was amazing. The way she spoke to that woman, it was inspiring," Angela said, her voice filled with admiration.

Tim tucked his cellphone between his ear and shoulder as he scooped out food for Kojo. "Mhm, well I guess those years of playing nanny paid off," he hummed absentmindedly. He gave a whistle, "Kojo! Dinner buddy!" He called, bending to place the food bowl on the ground.

"Tim! What the hell is wrong with you?" reprimanded Angela, her tone laced with frustration. "She's your boot, you're her TO. Her teacher. Start acting like it. God, no wonder why none of your rookies have ever made it through the program if that's your attitude."

Tim gave Kojo a pat, then straightened, moving to his dining table and sinking heavily into a chair with a sigh. "You're right. I'm sorry. I think I'm just going crazy... Been off work too long, you know Kojo doesn't really say much."

"Sorry no. you're not getting off that easy, Buddy," insisted Angela, her tone firm.

"Buddy?! Geez, what am I, a criminal now?" Tim joked half-heartedly, trying to lighten the mood.

"You know what, if that's the way you're going to act, yeah. You might as well be!" she raised her voice, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "From day one, you've had it out for her. Officer Chen did nothing to earn your cynicism or distrust. She saved your life on her second day. She talked a woman off a literal ledge today! A woman who had lost her soulmate to war. I'd think you of all people would understand that pain, Tim Bradford. You should be damn proud of your Rookie for what she did today.. because of what she did, that poor woman is going to get the help she needs. That's why we have CIT, Tim, and if you ask me, Lucy will make one hell of an addition.” 

Tim was silent for a long moment, his expression pained as he rubbed his hand down his face, releasing a deep breath filled with regret.

"I've been an ass," he stated, his voice heavy.

"Yeah, you really have," Angela said matter of factly, her tone holding a hint of disappointment.

- - -

As Caleb started to gather his clothes, Lucy sat up in bed, her eyes tracing the lines of his body in appreciation. "Thank you," she murmured.

Caleb paused, glancing back at her with a soft smile. "No need to thank me, Lucy. We both needed this," he replied.

As he finished dressing, Caleb turned to face her, "I have to leave for a work trip tomorrow. Probably gone for a couple of months," he explained, his eyes meeting hers with a mixture of apology and regret.

Lucy nodded, their arrangement was purely physical, a way for them both to release tension. So the news didn't come as a surprise but still caused a pang of disappointment. "I understand," she replied, forcing a small smile. "Take care of yourself."

He returned the smile, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer before he turned away, his footsteps echoing softly in the quiet room as he made his way to the door. With one last look over his shoulder, Caleb disappeared into the night.

Chapter Text

Lucy twirled and swayed to the sounds of her favourite playlist, the music a mix of upbeat tunes to set the tone for the day ahead. Today was her weekly chore day, and she set about her routine tackling each chore with determination and efficiency. 

She chopped vegetables with precision, the air filling with the delicious aroma of spices and herbs as she prepared meals for the week ahead. 

The steady hum of the washing machine provided a soothing backdrop as she sorted through laundry, folding clothes with ease.

As the afternoon sun streamed through the windows, Lucy turned her attention to the task of deep cleaning, methodically scrubbing surfaces until they gleamed. 

But just as she was lost in the rhythm of her routine, a persistent knocking at the door shattered the peacefulness of the moment. Lucy paused mid-step, her brow furrowed in confusion as she crossed the room, the music still playing softly in the background. She peered through the peephole, her curiosity piqued by the relentless knocking. With a hesitant sigh, she slowly turned the knob, revealing a familiar face standing on her doorstep.

"Jackson, what are you doing here?" Lucy's voice wavered with surprise and a hint of apprehension.

"I couldn't stay away, Lucy," Jackson replied, pushing past her and stepping into the apartment without invitation. "We need to talk about this... about Tim." He turned to face her, a determined expression etched across his features.

Lucy's heart skipped a beat at the mention of Tim's name, and panic fluttered in her chest as she tried to compose herself, but Jackson's unwavering gaze bore into her, demanding honesty.

Reluctantly, Lucy sank onto the couch, her hands fidgeting in her lap as she struggled to find the words. "I don't know what you're talking about, Jackson. Tim is just my training officer, nothing more."

Jackson's eyes softened, but his resolve remained unyielding. "Lucy, I've known you too long to buy into that. You literally yelled to me, ‘it's him’ after he was shot, and you can tell yourself all you want that he isn’t your soulmate, and it was just something you said in the heat of the moment, but I know better. The fact of the matter is, he is back tomorrow, and you cannot sit in a car next to him all day without facing some harsh realities first. You can’t keep denying what’s right in front of you.”

Lucy set her jaw, her eyes hardening. "Fine Jackson, he's my soulmate, I admit it. Happy now?"

"No!" Jackson exclaimed, "No, I'm not happy, because you keep denying it. You can't keep living like this, Lucy."

"He didn't want me, Jackson," Lucy retorted, her voice tinged with bitterness. "What do you expect? Do you want me to walk up to him, say, 'Hey, I know you think your soulmate is trash, but just in case you’d like to say it to my face, I’m her’!” She paused, taking a deep breath to steady herself, her frustration threatening to spill over. "I can't just force myself into his life, Jackson"

Jackson's expression softened with empathy as he reached out to gently grasp Lucy's hand. "I understand, Lucy. But you can't let fear hold you back. You deserve happiness, and if Tim truly is your soulmate, then you owe it to yourself to fight for that connection."

"It's not fear, Jackson, it's fact," Lucy asserted "He didn't wait for me. I wasn't worth the effort to him. I have been labelled as Unchosen because of him. A label I have to hide every day, because if people found out?..." She trailed off, the weight of unspoken consequences heavy in the air. "No. It's not fear, Jackson. He doesn't deserve to know."

Jackson's heart ached for his friend as he listened to her words, the pain evident in her voice. He struggled to find the right words to offer comfort, knowing that Lucy's wounds ran deep.

"Lucy," Jackson began, his voice gentle yet filled with uncertainty. "I’m sorry... I see the way you try to hide yourself from him, even before you knew it was Tim, and it kills me. You’re my best friend, and I feel like you’re a shadow of who you used to be.”

Lucy’s eyes sparkled with unshed tears, as she allowed herself to feel a brief moment of sadness. “I know, and I’m sorry too, but this is just the way it has to be. Once I get through this year I can transfer out. Then maybe things will be different.”

Jackson reached out, taking Lucy’s hand in his own, silently offering his support. Despite his own frustration, and sadness for her situation, he vowed to stand by her side, determined to help her find a way through her situation. 

- - -

The next day, Tim walked into roll call for the first time since being shot, a wave of applause erupted, echoing through the room as he made his way to his seat. Despite the genuine warmth of the welcome, his gaze caught sight of something unexpected on his chair – a hemorrhoid donut. With a wry smile and a pointed glare, he stabbed it with his pen, a silent retort to the unspoken joke.

After he settled into his seat, Sergeant Grey commanded everyone's attention with a short briefing and announcing that Officer Chen would be riding back with Tim.

As roll call came to a close, Tim's attention was drawn to Officer West, who was pulling Lucy aside. His brow furrowed with curiosity as he observed the exchange, noting the genuine smile that graced Lucy's lips and the small hug she shared with Officer West. 

Tim's attention to Lucy and West was abruptly interrupted by a sharp elbow jab from Angela, who hissed at him, "Remember what we talked about. Be nice.” 

With a tight-lipped smile, Tim nodded in acknowledgment, and turned away to head towards the shop.

Lucy was a few minutes late because she'd stopped to talk to Jackson. She hoped Tim wouldn't be too hard on her for it, but she truly did appreciate the pep talk from Jackson. To her surprise, Tim was waiting for her, ready to help load the war bags into the back of the vehicle.

"Thank you," Lucy murmured quietly as Tim worked alongside her. His response was a terse nod, his expression unreadable. Before putting the vehicle in gear, he hesitated, his gaze flickering towards her before he seemed to think better of whatever he was about to say. After a moment, he hesitated once more and turned toward her again.

"Uh, Lopez," he began awkwardly, his words stumbling slightly. "She said you did well these last few weeks. That you show a lot of promise. Good job."

Lucy stared at him in disbelief, her mind reeling at the unexpected praise. "Thank you," she replied, her voice tinged with uncertainty. She wasn't sure if she said it as an acceptance of the compliment or as a question, seeking confirmation.

Tim let out a disgruntled noise, his discomfort evident as he averted his gaze. "It's been pointed out that it's important for a TO to show praise of his rookie where it's been earned," he muttered, his tone gruff. "Don't let it go to your head."

With that, he put the shop in gear, the engine roaring to life as he turned away from her.

After a long silence, Tim finally spoke again, his voice softer this time. "Thank you for taking care of Kojo," he said, his words carrying a hint of sincerity despite his gruff tone. "Even if you did spoil him," he muttered under his breath.

"It was nothing, he's a good boy," Lucy replied with a smile, her heart warming at the mention of her furry friend.

"He really likes that blanket you got for him," Tim continued, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "He drags it around the house, even tries to take it on walks."

Lucy couldn't help but chuckle at the image of Kojo dragging his beloved blanket around like a prized possession. "Well, he's got good taste," she remarked. 

On the whole, Tim considered his first day back to be relatively uneventful. Throughout the shift, he engaged Lucy in detailed discussions about the calls she and Lopez had responded to, carefully assessing her insights and opinions. While he acknowledged Angela's exceptional teaching abilities, Lucy was his rookie, and he was committed to guiding her through the program in his own way.

Having spent weeks in recovery, Tim felt as though he was playing catch-up with Lucy's training. Despite this, he was impressed by her responsiveness to his inquiries and her ability to provide minute details when prompted. As the day progressed, Tim's confidence in Lucy's progress and abilities grew steadily.

That evening as they sat across from each other completing paperwork, Tim shifted uncomfortably in his seat before clearing his throat. 

"Chen, can we talk?" Tim's voice was hesitant, tinged with apprehension. 

Lucy glanced up from her paperwork, her expression guarded, as always. "Sure, what's on your mind?" She asked, her tone neutral.

Tim took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before speaking. "I realize I misjudged you, and harshly at that," he admitted, his words laced with sincerity. "I'd like us to start over.”

Lucy regarded Tim coolly, tapping her pen on her papers lightly, before asking, "And how did you misjudge me, exactly?"

Tim let out an exasperated breath, and ran a hand over his face, "Really? I'm trying to apologize here, and you're going to make me grovel!"

Lucy shrugged casually. "No, you don't have to grovel at all. But I think when someone shows you who they are, you believe them," she asserted, her eyes unwavering as they met Tim's. "Sir," she added, emphasizing the formality of their relationship.

Lucy carefully handed her neatly organized paperwork to Tim for review, her voice barely above a whisper as she said, "I've finished, sir."

Taking the documents without a word, Tim's brow furrowed slightly as he began to read through them, his eyes scanning the pages with focused attention. Lucy stood by quietly, her hands clasped in front of her, before hesitating and deciding to speak up.

"I appreciate the apology, sir," Lucy started, her voice steady but tinged with apprehension, "but it will take more than words to build my trust."

Tim looked up sharply from his desk, surprise flickering in his eyes at Lucy's statement. "If you don't trust me, how am I supposed to train you?" he challenged, his voice edged with frustration.

Lucy shrugged, her expression guarded as she met Tim's gaze. "Actions speak louder than words, sir," she replied evenly, her tone betraying a hint of scepticism.

Tim only nodded before saying a quiet, “Change out and go home boot.”

- - -

Over the next few days, Tim made a conscious decision to change tactics with Lucy. He carefully tailored his feedback, offering constructive criticism without undermining her confidence.

He tried his best to remain firm but empathetic, and praised her openly when she excelled. Every challenge he threw her way she handled with ease. 

Tim truly did regret judging her so harshly on her first day, because despite spending only a short time with her, he was convinced that she had the potential to become one of the best officers Mid Wilshere had seen in years. There was just one recurring pattern he couldn't understand about her. Despite his consistent efforts to be the supportive TO she deserved, Lucy couldn't accept praise. She would occasionally show signs of happiness, but her immediate response was always to shake her head, take a deep breath and retreat behind her emotionless mask.

It baffled Tim to see such a talented individual struggle to accept recognition for her achievements.

- - -

A few weeks passed, and Lucy couldn't help herself but become more and more suspicious of Tim. On a lunch break Lucy sat across from Jackson, her expression guarded as she fidgeted with the napkin in her hands. She couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled in her stomach since Tim's sudden change in behaviour.

"I just don't trust him," Lucy admitted, her voice tinged with apprehension. "It feels like it's all just some elaborate Tim Test, you know?"

Jackson sighed, his brow furrowing with concern as he leaned forward, his voice gentle yet firm. "Lucy, I get it. But you have to understand, Tim's not cruel. He's calculating. Everything he does, he does with a purpose. You should trust him."

“I know he’s not cruel Jackson,” Lucy said quietly. Because she did know. She’d felt Tim throughout her entire teenage years, and not once had she felt anything resembling cruelty from him… except for that projection. “Sitting next to him, hearing him compliment me and build up my confidence everyday, that’s the person I always knew he was capable of being. He’s a good TO, but….” She trailed off, taking a deep breath, thinking of the right words to say. “But, I can't help remembering that he still had it in himself to deny me, and I'm so afraid that he somehow knows and is using it to his advantage to turn on me later. I know it's unreasonable, and I do want to trust him." she lowered her voice now, barely above a whisper. "But it's hard. It's so hard."

Jackson reached across the table, his hand hovering over hers in a silent offer of comfort. "I know, Lucy. But you have to give him a chance. Trust me, he's not out to hurt you."

For a moment, Lucy wavered, but then, with a deep breath and a shake of her head, she pushed down the swell of emotions threatening to overwhelm her. "I can't," she replied, her voice steady but tinged with sadness. "I just can't."

Across the food court Tim and Angela sat at their usual lunch table. He noticed Lucy and Jackson having a hushed conversation, and the subtle shift in her demeanour, as she once again retreated behind the protective barrier that he'd grown used to.

“Huh,” he huffed, “good to know it's not just me she does that around.” 

Angela looked up after taking a large mouthful of burrito. “What's that now?” Came her muffled response.

Tim shook his head, “Uh, it's nothing, just talking to myself.”

Angela followed his gaze over to where Lucy and Jackson sat. She nudged him with foot. “Nuh uh, don't do that. Spill.”

Tim sighed, and grabbed his drink, chewing on his straw thoughtfully. “Did she ever do that when you rode with her?”

At Angela's quirked eyebrow he continued. “Every time I try to pay her a compliment, she always takes a deep breath and her face.. it just becomes so… Empty, I guess? And she did it again, just now with West.” He nodded in their direction.

Angela swallowed her last bite of burrito, her brow furrowing as she processed Tim's observation. "Hmm, never really thought much about it honestly.” She shrugged.

Tim narrowed his eyes at her. “You know something.” He accused.

“I.. I have an idea. But I don't know for sure.” she  confessed.

He nodded in acknowledgment, his eyes flicking back to Lucy and Jackson across the food court. "Do I need to be worried about her?” 

Angela considered for a moment before deciding, “No. I don't think so. Look I can't say much, her personal life is her business, but what I can say is that she’s been through a lot, and she's put in a lot of work to get past it.”

“She still doesn't trust me.. It's like she puts up this wall whenever things get too personal,” he mused.

Angela reached out, placing a comforting hand on Tim's arm. "Maybe it's her way of protecting herself," she suggested, her tone gentle. "You know, keeping her guard up so she doesn't get hurt."

Tim sighed, his frustration evident in the crease of his brow. "Yeah, maybe," he conceded.

- - -

As Lucy trudged along the street, cars honking behind her, her regret for choosing jeans on such a sweltering day grew steadily. Sweat was beginning to bead lightly on her forehead, and with each step, she could feel the discomfort growing, knowing that in just three more blocks, she'd be desperate for a shower before roll call – assuming she even made it on time.

Suddenly, her foot slipped on a loose patch of gravel, and she cursed under her breath as she regained her balance. Pausing to wipe the sweat from her brow, Lucy pulled her unruly hair into a hasty bun atop her head, the strands clinging damply to her skin. Frustration bubbled up within her as she kicked the tire of her car.

"Stupid piece of junk!" Lucy growled in annoyance, her irritation directed at the ageing vehicle that had betrayed her once again. But almost immediately, her expression softened as a pang of guilt washed over her. "Sorry, baby," she murmured apologetically, patting the hood of the car in a futile attempt to soothe its mechanical woes.

Her car had broken down just four blocks from the station, and Lucy was reluctantly pushing it the rest of the way. She rolled her shoulders and stretched her arms before trudging onward. As she pushed, she mentally calculated where she could cut back on her spending to afford the inevitable repairs.

To say she was tired was an understatement, for more reasons than one. Physically sure, pushing her car to the station was incredibly draining. But mentally. Emotionally. She was thoroughly exhausted. 

Lucy thought back to her conversation with Jackson yesterday. The thing is, she knew deep down that he was right. The Timothy she remembered, the Timothy she grew up caring for was trustworthy. And now he was calculating sure, but it was always for a reason. He had been through so much she couldn't begrudge him that, in fact all the hardships he suffered through shaped him into the man she had loved. But the Tim who left her behind? The Tim who she had spent the last 6 years hiding from? He was a completely separate individual from her Timothy, and she didn't trust him, in part, largely in fact, because she didn't know him. He was a stranger. 

Dr Burnett was right when he'd told her that boxing your soulmate would feel like a weight, and she'd gotten used to it. But maintaining those emotional barriers, and shielding her emotions from Tim was significantly harder when she had to sit next to him day after day. She used to be able to indulge in her emotions now and then, but now she could so easily give herself away to him. The slightest slip up and he would know who she really was, and she just couldn't risk that. That knowledge weighed heavier on her so much more than the box ever could. 

Lost in her thoughts, Lucy was momentarily startled when a truck pulled up alongside her, its engine rumbling loudly. She tensed as she heard someone call out to her.

“Boot!” 

Lucy's heart sank as she recognized the voice. "Great," she muttered under her breath. "Speak of the devil himself.”

“Well, well, looks like someone's got a new workout routine. I hope you remembered to stretch this morning!” Tim teased with a grin. “Need a lift, or are you just trying to build up your muscles for the next time I decide to put you against a low level drug runner?”

Lucy rolled her eyes, but continued pushing. “I'm good, thanks,” she said stubbornly without looking at him.

“Get in the truck Boot,” ordered Tim. “Push that hunk of junk to the curb, I have a buddy in motors. I'll call in a favour and get him to pick it up.”

Lucy stopped, and chewed on her lip. She was so close to the station, but it was still so far away. She nodded her head reluctantly and sighed. “Yeah. Okay, thanks.” And steered her beloved baby to the curb. 

As she climbed into Tim's truck, he raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "Not going to lock it up, Chen?" he queried, his tone tinged with curiosity.

"It doesn't lock," Lucy replied matter-of-factly, her voice tinged with a hint of frustration at the reminder of her car's faulty security system.

Tim said nothing, just quirked an eyebrow as he drove them to work. 

Pulling into his usual spot in front of the building, Tim brought the truck to a stop, and Lucy wasted no time in hopping out.  “Thanks again,” she murmured before hurrying off to take a much needed shower.

- - - 

Lucy had just finished meticulously organizing the shop when Tim approached, his footsteps echoing softly against the concrete floor. Without warning, he tossed the keys in her direction and tossed the keys at her. Caught off guard, Lucy instinctively reached out and snatched the keys from the air, her fingers curling around them tightly as she stared down at them in disbelief. She looked up at Tim, her expression a mixture of confusion and curiosity.

Tim couldn't help but chuckle at her bewildered expression, his laughter echoing through the garage. "You're driving today, Boot," he announced with a mischievous grin, already making his way towards the passenger side of the vehicle.

Lucy stayed rooted to the spot, her mind racing as she tried to process Tim's words. She glanced back down at the keys in her hand, but before she could protest or question his motives, Tim's impatient voice cut through the silence.

"Boot! Let's go, come on!" he called out.

Feeling a surge of determination, Lucy flicked her eyes up to meet Tim's. "I-I don't understand. Is this a test?" she stammered, her voice wavering slightly.

Tim arched an eyebrow in response, his expression unreadable. "Look, you've had a rough morning. I'm just trying to do something nice," he explained. "Unless... you don't want to drive?" he added, his voice trailing off as he moved past her towards the driver's side of the vehicle.

She grabbed his arm as he passed, “No! No. No sir, I’m driving today,” she declared firmly, her eyes blazing. 

A satisfied grin spread across Tim's face as he nodded approvingly. "Good, let's go. We've wasted enough time on this," he replied, as he made his way back to the passenger side of the vehicle.

- - -

The day unfolded with surprising smoothness, the routine patrols and occasional calls keeping Lucy and Tim occupied throughout their shift. It wasn't until the latter part of the afternoon that Lucy's keen eye caught sight of something amiss during their patrol.

An unmarked blue van caught her attention, parked near a power terminal, with a lone figure holding a video camera nearby. Lucy furrowed her brow in confusion.

"Why would a guy from the power company need a video camera?" she muttered to herself, her gaze lingering on the suspicious individual. As she drove past, she couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right. With a quick decision, she made a U-turn, her instincts urging her to investigate further.

Following the direction of the camera's lens, Lucy's eyes widened in horror as she realized the man was filming a young woman, seemingly unaware of his presence.  “That sick bastard, he’s filming her!” 

She activated the sirens briefly, alerting the suspect to his discovery. In a panic, he attempted to flee, but Lucy skillfully knocked him to the ground with her door as she sped by. 

She screeched the vehicle to a stop, and ran over to their suspect, pulling his arms behind his back. “You’re under arrest.” She stated.

As Lucy pulled the suspect to his feet, Tim walked over to her, “Not bad Boot, I’m impressed!” He was about to instruct her on next steps when his personal phone rang on his hip. He pulled it out looking at who it was. As he swiped his thumb to accept the call he glanced up “Boot, take point on this, you’re doing great.” 

Lucy restrained the struggling suspect against the hood of the shop, barely listening as he protested his innocence, instead focused on the way Tim answered his phone as he walked away. “Baby hey, I’m just at a call, is everything ok?” a slight pause. “Right. I’m sorry. Old habits I guess.”  

She shook her head to bring herself back to the issue at hand, and reviewed the footage captured by the video camera.

“Do you even work for the power company?” she demanded. 

“Lawyer.”

“Yep, you’re gonna need one.” she agreed. Pulling her radio from her hip, she spoke to dispatch. “7-adam-19 one in custody, third and Arden.”

She pushed the suspect into the back of the shop, going through a mental checklist in her head. Suspect down, video and camera tagged as evidence, suspect vehicle up next. 

Turning her attention back to Tim, she walked toward him to inform him of her progress and her plans for the next steps. As she approached, she overheard the tail end of his conversation.

“Wow that was fast, yeah. Yeah I can do that. Okay, thanks.” Tim wearily scrubbed a hand down his face as he ended the call, and pushed his phone back into his pocket.

"Everything okay?" she asked, trying to mask her curiosity.

Tim nodded, "Just some personal stuff. You did good with the arrest, Chen."

Lucy shrugged, completely forgetting about the suspects vehicle altogether. "Thanks.”

Tim’s eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at her. "You were about to say something?"

Lucy blinked, trying to recall her earlier thoughts. "Oh, right. Uh, I think I’m done here, we can head back to the station.” 

He narrowed his eyes again at her, but quickly masked his expression. “Okay,” he said simply with a shrug. “Let’s go.”

They walked back to the patrol car in silence, as Lucy started the engine, she couldn't help but glance at Tim, his earlier conversation still nagging at the back of her mind. 

"Are you sure everything's okay?" she asked again, more softly this time.

Tim gave her a reassuring smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah, Chen. Just... life stuff. Don't worry about it."

- - -

That night at home, Lucy poured herself a glass of wine... and then poured a bit more, filling the glass to the brim.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she chided herself, her voice barely more than a whisper in the empty kitchen.

She had allowed herself to cross so many lines with Tim today, and some of her worst fears were becoming reality. The way she'd foolishly grabbed his arm when he'd offered her the chance to drive. In the moment, it had seemed harmless, a reflex even, but looking back, that touch felt like the beginning of her downfall. To allow herself that moment of contact... No. That wouldn't happen again.

Then there was the distraction of his phone call. The way he answered, his voice softening when he called Isabel "Baby." How broken he had looked as he hung up. It had all made Lucy forget about the damn van, and if Tim hadn't called it in, who knows what would have happened. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

She was better than this, so much better. Except she wasn't. She deserved the dressing down Tim had given her once she remembered she had forgotten something crucial at the crime scene. It was a rookie mistake. She snorted a laugh at herself. How ironic. Because that's what she was, just a rookie.

Lucy sighed and took a long sip of her wine, savouring the way it burned down her throat. She sank into the couch, her mind replaying the day's events. The look in Tim’s eyes when he corrected her, the disappointment veiled under his professional demeanour. She hated disappointing him, hated feeling like she wasn't living up to his expectations. She knew she was capable, but today had made her doubt herself.

She took another sip, trying to drown the swirling thoughts. It was just one bad day, she told herself. Tomorrow would be better. She would be better. 

But deep down, Lucy knew that her struggle wasn't just about the job. It was about Tim, about keeping her guard up, about the complicated feelings she couldn't quite shake. She finished her wine and poured another glass, determined to forget, at least for tonight.

She reached for her phone on the arm of the couch, and tapped to the contact marked “Distraction-caleb”. She hovered her finger for a moment before deciding better of it. He'd told her he would let her know when he was back in town, and he hadn't yet. So that was out of the question. She clicked on another chat thread and typed.

Karaoke?

- - -

Tim sat in his living room, wrestling with his thoughts as he pondered the enigma that was his rookie. Despite his best efforts to understand her, Chen remained a mystery, her actions and reactions consistently leaving him perplexed.

With a sigh, he reached for his phone, deciding to reach out to Lopez. Afterall she'd spent the most time with his rookie lately, maybe a casual chat over drinks would provide some insight into her perspective. Dialing her number, he waited anxiously for her to pick up.

"Sorry, Tim, I can't," Angela‘s voice sounded apologetic on the other end. "Promised Jackson and Lucy we'd go for karaoke tonight."

Tim sighed in disappointment as he hung up the phone, loneliness creeping in. Glancing at Kojo, who lay contentedly at his feet, he offered a resigned smile. "Well, I guess it's just you and me, buddy... again."

Kojo wagged his tail lazily, his eyes following Tim as he stood up and walked to the fridge. Tim grabbed a beer, popping the top off on the counter as he passed by. He settled back into his chair, the cold bottle a small comfort against the swell of loneliness.

The house felt emptier than usual, the silence pressing in on him. He took a sip of his beer, the bitter taste mirroring his mood. Thoughts of Lucy and his struggles to connect with her swirled in his mind. She was so guarded, so difficult to read, and it frustrated him to no end.

Tim absently scratched Kojo behind the ears, the dog's presence a small comfort. "I just don't get her, Kojo. It's like she has this wall up all the time."

Kojo responded with a soft woof, as if understanding his master's plight. Tim chuckled softly, taking another swig of his beer. "Maybe I should just stop trying so hard. Let her come to me when she's ready."

He knew it wasn't that simple, though. He was her training officer, and it was his responsibility to guide her, to ensure she became the best cop she could be. Giving up wasn't an option, but neither was pushing too hard.

Tim had just finished his third beer and was contemplating pouring himself a whiskey, hoping to add a little variety to his liquid supper. He reached for the whiskey bottle, the cool glass smooth against his fingertips, when a knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.

He hesitated for a moment, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. Setting the bottle down, he made his way to the door, wondering who could possibly be calling at this hour. To his surprise, it was Angela, holding a pizza box in her hands. Before he could utter a word, she pushed past him into the house, shoving the pizza box into his hands, a determined expression on her face.

"You seemed sad on the phone, so I cut out on karaoke night," Angela announced, her voice firm as she scanned the room. Her eyes immediately landed on the array of empty beer bottles scattered across the coffee table and the open bottle of whiskey on the countertop.  

She turned towards Tim, jabbing a thumb towards the booze. "Seems like a wild night for you, hey?"

Tim shrugged, unable to meet her eyes. His gaze flickered away, landing on Kojo, who was now sitting up and watching with mild interest. "What else am I going to do? Got no wife, a dog who doesn't say much, and my best friend who'd rather go out singing with my boot."

Angela let out an exasperated huff, crossing her arms over her chest. "Well, I'm here now, aren't I?" she retorted, her tone softer than before.

Tim sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, you are,” he admitted. “Thanks, Ange.” 

He set the pizza down on the coffee table, the scent of pepperoni and melted cheese filling the room as he opened the box, taking a slice. Angela followed suit, taking a slice for herself, and they chewed in silence for a moment. “So, what’s going on?” she asked gently.

Tim chewed slowly on his pizza, “It’s just… everything,” he said after a moment. “The divorce, work- Chen especially. It’s just been a lot today.”

Angela nodded, taking another bite, the cheese stretching and finally breaking as she chewed thoughtfully. “I get it. Have you heard from Isabel at all?" She asked gently.

Tim shrugged again, and turned to pour himself that whiskey after all, and grabbed a second glass for Lopez, unasked. "Yeah, today. She called to tell me her lawyer drafted the divorce settlement. I’ll meet with mine next week to go over it and sign. Should be easy. We kept all our assets separate."

Angela nodded thoughtfully. "Remind me again why you did that? I mean, not that it was a bad idea, clearly."

Tim rolled his eyes, taking a large gulp of his drink, the whiskey burning pleasantly as it went down. "Are you ever going to stop rubbing it in about my failed relationship?"

"Just asking a question," Angela replied innocently, though her tone had a playful edge.

Angela perched herself on a chair at the island and gently squeezed Tim's shoulder. "I won't make you rehash it. I know you kept everything separate out of respect for her soulmate. I just worry about you, Tim. You seem so alone now."

"It's because I am," Tim shot back, his voice heavy with bitterness and resignation.

Angela picked a piece of pepperoni from her slice of pizza, her expression pensive. "You could get back out there, you know. Try to find your soulmate."

Tim scoffed, his laughter devoid of humour. "No, I can't."

"You can," Angela pressed, her tone gentle yet insistent.

Tim downed the rest of his whiskey in one swift motion and reached for the bottle to pour another. "I don't deserve my soulmate,” he said quietly, almost as if speaking to himself. “That's why I married Isabel in the first place." His words hung heavy in the air, weighted with regret and self-loathing.

Angela watched him, her heart aching for her friend. "How long are you going to punish yourself, Tim? Will died what, 13 years ago? It's time to let it go and forgive yourself," she urged.

Tim's grip on his glass tightened, his knuckles turning white. "Never," he growled, his voice thick with barely controlled anger. "You want to know why I'm so alone? Because I don't deserve to not be." He started to raise his voice, his frustration boiling over. "My actions killed my best friend, killed Isabel's soulmate. I took her husband, and I have spent every day since then trying to make up for it!"

He was yelling now, the words tumbling out in a torrent of raw emotion. ”I made a promise to Will that I would look after Isabel, and that's exactly what I've done. I gave up my soulmate so she would never be alone again. And for what? To ruin my life? Hers?!" With a sudden burst of fury, he hurled his glass against the wall, the shattering sound echoing through the room, the shards glittering as they fell to the floor. Angela jumped, startled by the intensity of his outburst. 

She quickly recovered and leapt to her feet, her instincts kicking in as she watched Kojo come bounding into the room, drawn by the commotion. The dog’s nails clicked against the hardwood floor, his ears perked up and tail wagging in confused excitement. Reacting swiftly, Angela grabbed Kojo by his collar and led him to the safety of the backyard. With Kojo safely outside, she hurried back into the house. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw Tim slumping to the ground, his shoulders heaving with silent sobs as his emotions finally broke him down. Without hesitation, she rushed to his side, kneeling beside him.

"I don't deserve my soulmate," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I gave her up because she was like a literal ray of sunshine, and she didn't deserve my sorry ass. I never met her, never saw her, never even learned her name. But I felt her, Ange," he continued. "I felt her every day, so happy, bubbly... And calm when I needed to be myself. She was perfect. My sunshine."

A tear slipped down his cheek, and he wiped it away with a shaky hand. "I took Isabel's soulmate from her. How could my sunshine ever want to be with me after that? So, I gave her up so she could live a better life without me. And I can never try to find her, Ange…” He sniffed, and swallowed thickly before continuing. “I don't know how, but... She found out. I must have projected, maybe... I've never been much good at controlling my emotions." He let out a sad laugh, the sound hollow and filled with self-loathing. "The last thing she projected to me was that she hates me… Turns out, in trying to give her her best shot, I ruined her life too.”

"So here I am, all alone," slurred Tim, the alcohol finally getting the better of him. "Because in the end, after everything I gave up, it still wasn't enough for Isabel."

Angela reached out and pulled Tim into a tight hug, feeling the tension in his body slowly start to ease. "I'm sorry, Tim," she whispered softly. They stayed like that for a moment, and Angela waited patiently as they did. Tim was not a touchy feely type of guy, so if he was allowing this hug he clearly needed it. Finally, she felt him loosen his grip and pull away.

Taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out, Tim pinched at the bridge of his nose, "I think I killed her. My sunshine," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "I mean, she's still living, but I don't feel her anymore. I haven't... for so long."

He paused, his gaze drifting upward to stare at the ceiling as if searching for answers, "Sometimes I think, maybe... But it's like an echo. Like she's not really living anymore."

Angela watched Tim with a heavy heart, her own eyes brimming with tears as she listened to his agonising confession. The raw pain in his voice was almost too much to bear. She reached out, gently placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

The idea of being separated from Wesley, of not feeling his presence constantly, shattered her heart into a million pieces. The bond they shared was so strong, so integral to her sense of self, that just the thought of losing it was almost unbearable.

A gentle buzz on her wrist drew her attention to her smartwatch. It was a text from Wesley, he'd felt how upset she was and needed to know if she was okay. She quickly tapped out a response, assuring him that she was fine, and that she would explain later.

- - -

Downtown, amidst the chatter and clinking glasses of the bustling bar, Lucy sat at a table, her hands trembling slightly, and nerves on edge. She requested an ice water from the bartender. Jackson sat by her side, gently rubbing circles on her back to help soothe her frayed emotions.

Earlier, they had been enjoying themselves, singing their hearts out on stage, when Lucy was overcome by a burst of anger from Tim. She'd tried her damnedest to shut him out, the effort sending shockwaves of pain through her bringing her to her knees. Despite her efforts, she still caught a snippet of his words- “soulmate… ruin my life.”

Seeing Lucy's distress, Jackson had acted quickly, wrapping a protective arm around her shoulders guiding her off the stage as the unsettling incident unfolded. He called out apologies to the puzzled crowd, his primary concern focused on supporting his friend.

They reached a quiet corner of the bar, and Lucy allowed Jackson to guide her into a chair before shaking him off angrily growling ”Back off!” Her eyes had gone wide, and her chest heaved in panic. 

Jackson took a step back, raising his hands in the air, “Luce, what’s wrong? What happened?” 

Lucy’s eyes darted around, trying to make sense of the chaos in her mind. “Jackson, I'm so sorry. That wasn't me.. It.. it was him.” She leaned to rest her head on his shoulder. “He was so angry… it just hit me out of nowhere. I couldn’t block him out.” 

Jackson’s face softened with understanding. “Shhh, shh, it's okay Luce, it's okay. We're just going to sit here together. Come on, deep breaths.”

Chapter Text

The next shift with Chen was tense. Somehow her responses to him were even more terse than normal, though admittedly, correct. She moved through their tasks with robotic precision, though she refused to make eye contact with him. Guilt began to gnaw at the back of Tim’s mind. He began to wonder if he had been too harsh on her after pointing out her mistake with the van the other day. Up until that point she had been nothing but perfection, the model rookie. Had he slipped into his old ways, after trying for weeks to prove to her that he would be a better mentor?

As they stood by the patrol car, Tim decided to address the elephant in the room. "Listen, Chen. About the other day, I hope you don’t—" he began, but Lucy quickly cut him off.

"Sir, you don’t have to say anything," she interjected, "The mistake was my own. I failed in my assignment, and you had every right to discipline me in any way you saw fit. I consider myself lucky that all you did was give me a stern talking to. As far as I’m concerned, you should have washed me from the program. I won’t let you down again, sir."

Tim  frowned, his brow furrowing in concern at how hard on herself she was being. “That’s a bit of an overreaction, don’t you think, Boot?”

"Not at all, sir," she replied, her tone unwavering. "You entrusted me to run that call, and I failed. It’s as simple as that."

He studied her for a moment, noting the rigid set of her shoulders and the way her hands clenched into fists at her sides. The normally confident rookie now stood before him like a soldier bracing for reprimand. The guilt in his chest tightened its grip, making it hard to breathe. He took a step closer, lowering his voice to convey sincerity. "Chen, everyone makes mistakes. What matters is how we learn from them. You’ve been doing an incredible job, and one slip-up doesn’t change that."

She glanced at him briefly, her eyes reflecting a storm of emotions before she quickly looked away. "I appreciate that, sir. But I can't afford to make mistakes. Not in this job."

Tim sighed, wishing he could break through the wall she had erected between them. "I understand the pressure you're under, but remember, you’re not alone in this. I’m here to guide you, to see you through to the very end. You’re almost halfway through the program, and you have been my most promising rookie yet. One mistake does not negate all of the good you have done.”

Lucy nodded, though her expression remained resolute. "Thank you, sir, that means a lot. Still.. I won’t let it happen again."

- - -

Sergeant Grey strode to the front of roll call, his expression grave, skipping the usual pleasantries. “Okay, I’ve got some bad news for our Rookies,” he announced. “Higher ups have decided that no rookie shall be allowed to take their six-month exam until they have completed a training and experience checklist as a primary officer. If that checklist is not completed, they will be held back in the program for a minimum of 30 days.

“Sir, that’s ridiculous!” Tim’s voice cut through the murmurs of disbelief. “I’ve let Chen be primary once, there’s no way we’ll be able to get that list done by exam time.”

“Well, that’s tough, Bradford,” Grey retorted, his arms crossing in a stance of authority. “Because I’ve got even more news. You don’t have until exam time.” He paused, letting the gravity of his words sink in. “You have 48 hours, because apparently, in addition to this checklist, there will be a review of each call and its corresponding paperwork.” He rolled his eyes, a clear sign of his own frustration. “Something about accountability. Listen. I didn’t make the rule, but I am enforcing it. Now get out on the streets, and get that list done.”

- - -

Tim walked purposefully over to Lucy at the kit counter, his footsteps echoing through the station's bustling atmosphere. “Chen, get the shop stocked, and make sure we have snacks. We’re not stopping for even a second today. I’ll be back,” he instructed, his tone firm yet laced with concern.

As Lucy nodded in acknowledgment, Tim strode quickly toward their local dispatch room, his mind already racing with plans. Jackson, noticing Tim's determined pace, jogged toward him on his way. “Hey, Bradford, wait up,” he called out, his voice carrying a hint of urgency. “Listen, what’s your plan for Lucy? She’s got one hell of a list to complete in the next two days. I’ll try to pass off any calls I can, but I’m not sure it will be enough.”

Tim stopped in his tracks, turning to face Jackson with a furrowed brow. “Listen, West, I know she’s your friend, but you need to trust that I have her best interests in mind,” he replied, his tone serious. “I appreciate the offer to forward your calls though. I may not be able to control what calls we get, but I can at least do my best. I’m going to talk to Nell.”

With that, Tim continued his brisk pace toward the dispatch room, his mind already formulating a plan to ensure Lucy's success. As he approached the door, he took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for the conversation ahead.

Pushing the door open, Tim entered the dispatch room, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on Nell, who was seated at her desk with a stack of paperwork. With a charming smile, he approached her. “Nell! Hey, look at you! You are positively glowing!” he exclaimed, his voice filled with warmth and admiration.
Nell, however, didn't seem fazed by his attempt at flattery. She raised a hand to stop him before he could continue. “Spare me, Bradford, please. I already know about the new rule that’s been handed down,” she replied.
Undeterred, Tim pressed on. “So, you’ll help me?” he asked, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a folded piece of paper. “Look, here’s a list of the calls I need Chen to be primary on. West has agreed to give up any that would cross off, and I’d appreciate it if you’d forward through as many as you can. Chen holds a lot of promise.”

Nell sighed, taking the paper from Tim and quickly scanning its contents. “I’ll do what I can, Bradford,” she said, her expression softening slightly. “But you know I can’t make guarantees.”

Tim nodded, understanding the limitations of Nell's position. “I get it, Nell. Just do what you can. Every little bit helps,” he replied, a note of gratitude in his voice.

With a nod of acknowledgment, Nell turned back to her computer, already typing away at her keyboard to begin sorting through the calls. Tim left the dispatch room with a renewed sense of determination, he had a plan in motion and was going to see Chen through. Failure was not an option.

- - -

At one point between calls, Tim glanced over to see Lucy smiling at her phone, her fingers rapidly tapping out a response.

Without warning, Tim reached out and snatched the phone from her hands. “Chen, focus up!” he barked. “We have a lot of ground to cover over the next two days. You gotta get your head in the game and quit texting.”

He glanced at the screen and saw a message from someone labeled "Distraction-caleb” He gave her a sidelong glance in disbelief. “Really? A distraction? Now?”

Ignoring her protests, he slipped the phone into his pocket, fending her off as she reached to grab it back. “Nope. You'll get this back at the end of the shift. Your distraction can wait.”

Lucy glared at him, her eyes flashing with irritation, but she didn’t argue further. "Understood, sir," she said, her voice tight.

Tim watched her for a moment, noting the tension in her posture and the way she clenched her fists at her sides. He sighed inwardly, feeling a pang of guilt for being so harsh. But there was no time for softening his approach now. They had a job to do, and he needed her at her best.

“Let’s get moving,” he said more gently, turning back to the dashboard. “We’ve got work to do.”

As they headed to their next call, Tim couldn’t help but feel a twinge of regret. He hoped she understood that his sternness was born out of necessity, not cruelty. He needed her to succeed, and distractions, no matter how innocent, could be the difference between passing and failing.

- - -

At the gear counter at the end of the shift, Tim placed a reassuring hand on Lucy's shoulder. "Look, I know this list is discouraging, and part of that is on me as your TO," he began, "But I want you to know that you did great today. We covered a lot of ground, and tomorrow we only need to take six more calls to finish up."

Lucy let out a disappointed sigh, her shoulders slumping slightly. "I know... it just seems like a lot," she admitted, her voice tinged with fatigue.

Tim squeezed her shoulder before letting go and giving her a small, encouraging smile. "We'll do it, Chen. I have no doubt," he assured her. Then, reaching into his pocket, he pulled out her phone. "Here. Your distraction, as promised."

Just as her fingers brushed the phone, he flipped it out of reach, a playful glint in his eye. "Don't make me initiate a no phones policy in the shop, Boot," he teased, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

Lucy managed a small smile in return, tucking her phone away carefully. "Understood, goodnight, sir."

"Goodnight, Chen. Get some rest. We'll hit the ground running tomorrow," Tim replied.

- - -

She'd done it. Somehow, against all odds, the fates, gods, or whatever celestial forces there were had aligned perfectly, allowing Chen to complete her checklist. And with one call, no less! An intoxicated driver had not only added another tick to her list but also set off a cascade of events that helped her cross off several critical items: destruction of city property, grand theft, false ID to an officer, carjacking (it technically had a motor), and assault on a police officer.

Tim could hardly contain his excitement. None of his previous trainees had shown as much promise as Chen, which was likely why none of them had made it this far. As he watched her compile the last bits of her report, a sense of pride welled up inside him. She had navigated this incredibly challenging day with skill and determination. Now, all she had to do was ace her exam in a few weeks, and he had no doubt in his mind that she would

"Chen," he called out, his voice brimming with pride. She looked up from her paperwork, a hint of exhaustion but also satisfaction evident on her face.

"Yes, sir?" she replied, setting down her pen and giving him her full attention.

"You did incredible work today. I knew you had it in you, but seeing it all come together like this is something else. You're going to ace that exam, I’m sure of it."

Lucy allowed herself a small, triumphant smile. "Thank you, sir. I couldn't have done it without your guidance."

Tim nodded, appreciating her humility but knowing full well that her success was a testament to her hard work and resilience. "Go on, get out of here Chen, I'll finish up. You've earned it.”

As he watched her walk away, Sergeant Grey called out from his office, “Bradford, come see me when you have a minute.”

Tim looked up sharply at his name, and walked to the office, closing the door behind him. “Sir?”

Grey waved a hand, indicating the chair in front of his desk. “Sit down, son.”

Tim sat, trying to adopt a relaxed posture despite his curiosity. “Everything okay sir?”

“Yes, actually that's what I wanted to talk to you about. You know, I've been watching you these last few months. Your approach in the way you've been training Chen has not gone unnoticed, and I'm thoroughly impressed with her progress.”

Tim felt a surge of pride but tried to stay humble. “Well thank you sir, but I have to say, that's got more to her than it does with me. Chen shows a lot of promise.”

Grey nodded thoughtfully, “Yes, and no. She is by far the most promising rookie we've had in a long time, yes. But the way that you've carried yourself. Dropping the intimidation tactics, trying to connect. That shows the signs of a good leader. Keep up the good work.”

Tim's eyes widened in surprise. “Sir, that's… I don't know what to say. Thank you. That means a lot, but surely, after only one successful rookie that doesn't mean I'm ready to lead?”

Grey leaned forward, his gaze steady and reassuring. “Maybe not yet, but have more faith in yourself Bradford, you were a Sergeant in the military before becoming a police officer. You used to lead others. I'd say that experience combined with all your years on the force with us more than qualifies you. And if you keep on this path with Chen, see her through, apply what she's taught you as a student to your next rookie, and the ones that follow... Well, let's just say I'll be keeping my eye on you for greater things.”

Tim sat, absorbing Grey's words. The idea of doing something more again, stepping up to a leadership role, both excited and intimidated him. He nodded slowly. “I promise, sir. I’ll think about it.”

- - -

“You know, two nights in a row. Part of me feels bad that you've had two crappy days back to back, but the other part of me….” Caleb hungrily eyed Lucy's naked form, thinly veiled by the sheet. He sucked his teeth, a grin spreading across his face. “The other part of me, not so much.” 

Lucy giggled softly, tossing her hair over her shoulder and rolling over, her feet kicking playfully  in the air. “Weellll, that's because I didn't. Yesterday was a crappy day, but today… Today I decided I needed to celebrate.”

“Changing the terms of our agreement, Miss Chen?” Caleb teased, as he sat on the edge of the bed to put on his socks, “I thought we said ‘distraction only’?”

Lucy crawled over to him, her fingers lightly tracing patterns on his back before she leaned in to kiss his shoulder, “We did, but I don't think you're complaining.” 

Caleb turned slightly, catching her eye and smirking. “Not at all,” he murmured before pushing her back on the bed and kissing her thoroughly. 

- - -

In the weeks that followed, Tim became strategic in choosing the calls they responded to, aiming for ones he knew would likely appear on Chen's exam. He meticulously scanned the dispatches, prioritizing those that would provide her with the most relevant experience. Between calls, he encouraged her to immerse herself in her rook-book, often catching her with her nose buried deep in its pages.

After each shift, he made it a routine to quiz her on what they had covered throughout the day. They’d sit in the shop or at the station, reviewing each scenario in detail. Tim’s approach was patient and encouraging, he offered gentle corrections when she stumbled, reinforcing her learning with practical insights, noting her improvement with pride.

This practice became second nature, seamlessly integrating into their daily rhythm. Tim decided that if he couldn't break Lucy's frosty nature then he would embrace it. Once he did, he found himself growing quite fond of Chen, and he was beginning to notice subtle changes in her. The hard edges of her exterior began to soften, revealing glimpses of the person beneath the tough facade. Occasionally he would catch her in rare moments of genuine excitement. One afternoon, after a particularly successful call, he saw her eyes light up as she reviewed her notes. It was a fleeting look, quickly masked by her usual stoic expression, but it was there. Another time, during a quiet moment in the shop, she allowed herself a small, triumphant smile as she recounted a procedure correctly.

One evening, after a particularly challenging call involving a domestic dispute, Tim and Lucy sat in the break room. The tension from the call still lingered, but Tim saw it as an opportunity for learning. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms.

"Alright, Chen," he began, "walk me through the steps we took on that last call. What were the key points you remember?"

Lucy, still visibly shaken but determined, took a deep breath and began to recount the sequence of events, her words steady. Tim listened intently, nodding occasionally and interjecting with questions to prompt deeper thinking.

"And what could we have done differently?" he asked, watching her process the question.

She paused, considering her response. "Maybe we could have separated the parties sooner, to prevent the escalation."

Tim smiled, nodding in approval. "Exactly. Good observation. Remember that for the exam. It's about recognizing what you did right and understanding how you can improve."

- - -

The night before Lucy's exam, Tim walked her to her car, going over final pointers.”

"Okay, now remember everything we talked about," Tim began, his voice laced with concern. "No studying tonight. You know what you know. Trust your instincts tomorrow on the questions. You know the material, and there's no harm in taking a minute to think things through. We'll work a half shift, and we'll take just the easy calls. Okay, nothing that will get you too worked up... you know, maybe on second thought we should just do paperwork," he rambled, his eyes darting around as if searching for reassurance.

Lucy could feel his anxiety radiating off of him and jumped in front of him, holding up her hands. "Bradford, stop!" she exclaimed, half-laughing. "Listen, I appreciate everything, but I've got this," she said confidently, her eyes meeting his. "You know I do. So just relax. Eesh, I swear you're more nervous than I am!"

Tim paused, taking in her words and the steely resolve in her gaze. He let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding and smiled. "You're right, Chen. You've got this. Just remember, no matter what happens, you've already proven yourself. Tomorrow is just another step."

Lucy nodded, her smile widening. "Thanks, that means a lot.”

- - -

Except Lucy didn't get the chance to take her exam as planned. During roll call, the CDC abruptly interrupted, much to Sergeant Grey's annoyance, to announce a weaponized strain of hemorrhagic fever. The briefing was cut short as all units were immediately dispatched to seek out potentially affected individuals.

Which is how Lucy found herself on the wrong side of the door Tim was slamming shut. Panic surged in her, her heart practically beating out of her chest. In that moment Lucy truly did not care about shielding her emotions from Tim. She may have forsaken Tim as her soulmate, but he sure as hell didn't deserve to be stuck in a room with a deadly virus, no matter how angry with him she was.

“Bradford! Bradford, no!” She cried as she slammed her hands against the door. 

Tim's voice came through the door, steady but strained. "It'll be okay, Boot. Just... just call it in, notify the CDC, we follow procedure."

"Sir, you can't stay in there!" Lucy shouted. "We have to get you out!" 

"No, Chen," Tim replied firmly. "If I come out, I risk exposing you and everyone else. You know the protocol. Follow it.”

Tears stung Lucy's eyes as she fumbled for her radio. "Dispatch, this is 7-Adam-19," she said, her voice trembling. "We have a confirmed exposure at 242 Elm Street. Requesting immediate assistance from the CDC. Officer Bradford is in quarantine with the subject."

"Copy that, 7-Adam-19," the dispatcher responded. "CDC units are en route.”

Inside, Tim took a deep breath, glancing at their victim turned patient. "It's going to be okay, Pete. Help is on the way. We just need to stay calm. Nothing to worry about, just a bad flu going around.” 

He glanced around the room noticing the en-suite bathroom, “Hey, you got any flu medicine in there?” He nodded his head toward the bathroom. 

Pete, pale and shaking, managed a weak nod. "Yeah, there's some in the cabinet."

"Good," Tim replied, trying to keep his voice steady. "Go take some.”

As Pete shuffled towards the bathroom, Tim pulled on a pair of gloves. He cautiously approached the bag containing the vial of the virus Pete had mistaken for his own. With a deep breath, he turned towards the door and called out to Lucy. "Boot, log into the app on your phone, pull up my body cam. Just because we're separated doesn't mean we're not still working. Tell me what you see."

Lucy, standing outside with her phone in hand, took a deep breath. "Okay, I see... is that the broken vial Pete mentioned? It must have the live virus in it."

Tim nodded, his focus sharpening. He continued to sift through the bag, muttering to himself. "I don't see any ID, or target information…”

He was so engrossed in his task that he didn’t notice Pete re-enter the room, now visibly weaker and driven by fever. Lucy caught Pete's reflection in a mirror across from Tim but was too late to warn him. Pete, with a surge of adrenaline, grabbed a chair from the vanity and swung it at Tim.

The world went dark for Tim as the chair struck him, sending him sprawling to the floor. When he came to a few minutes later, his head throbbed with an intense, pulsing pain. His vision was blurry, and he struggled to focus as he took in his surroundings. He saw Pete lying beside him, convulsing and bleeding, the virus rapidly taking its toll.

Gradually, the sounds around him started to filter through the fog in his mind. He could hear Lucy banging on the door, her voice filled with fear. "Tim! Tim! Answer me, are you okay? Tim!”

Groaning, Tim reached up to touch his head where he'd been hit, wincing as his fingers made contact with the tender, swelling area. “Yeah. Yeah, Boot! Chen, I'm okay!” he called back, his voice strained but audible. “Pete's not, though.”

He forced himself to sit up, leaning against the door for support. His vision swam as he tried to focus on Pete's condition. The man's convulsions were growing weaker by the second, his breaths turning into ragged, shallow gasps. Blood pooled around him. Tim watched helplessly as Pete's body went still, the violent tremors subsiding into an eerie stillness.

Swallowing hard, Tim took a deep breath and tried to steady his shaking hands. “Chen…” he called out, his voice rough and barely above a whisper. He swallowed again, clearing his throat. “Notify the CDC. Pete’s gone.”

He waited for Lucy's acknowledgment, the silence in the room now oppressive. The only sound was the faint hum of the ventilation system.

A few moments later, Lucy returned to her side of the door and knocked lightly to let him know she was there. “I spoke with Dr Morgan. She's putting a rush on the vaccine, it will be here before you know it.”

Tim huffed a strained chuckle, and rested his head against the door. “You know you're good at a lot of things, but lying isn't one of them, Boot.”

Lucy tried to laugh, but it came out as more of a sigh. She leaned against the door, stretching out her legs to be more comfortable. “Why didn’t you let me go first? You had to have suspected he was exposed. It should have been me to follow him in.”

Tim’s heart ached at her words. He could hear the guilt and fear in her voice. “Chen, listen to me. You’re my rookie. It’s my job to protect you, to teach you. I couldn’t let you walk into something this dangerous. You have so much ahead of you. I couldn’t risk that.”

She picked at her cuticles, her mind racing. “But what about you? Your life isn’t worth less than mine, in fact, exactly the opposite. I'm… disposable.” 

Tim's voice was firm. “You are anything but disposable.” 

Lucy let out a shaky breath. “If you say so… How are you holding up in there?”

“Sweating like a pig,” Tim admitted with a forced chuckle, wiping his brow. “Feels like it's 100 degrees in here, but I'm hoping that's just the adrenaline talking.”

They sat in silence for a few moments before Tim broke it, his voice softer but filled with concern. “You don't… really believe that do you? That you're disposable?”

Lucy hesitated, her fingers still picking at her cuticles. She took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “Sometimes, it feels like it. Like I’m just another rookie, easy to replace. If I screw up, it’s not like anyone would really notice if I was gone.”

Tim felt a pang of sadness and anger at her words. He hated that she felt this way, that she didn’t see the incredible potential he saw in her every day. “You are not disposable. You are one of the most promising rookies I’ve ever trained. You’ve got guts, brains, and a heart that cares deeply about this job and the people you serve. Don’t ever think for a second that you don’t matter. Because you do.”

Lucy’s voice was barely a whisper, laden with years of self-doubt. “That's sweet of you to say, but…. If you knew me. Really knew me, and the person I am beyond the one I let you see.. you'd understand why my only friend is Jackson.”

Tim’s heart ached at her words. “That's not true, you have Lopez too.”

“Yeah I suppose, I think it's only a matter of time before she gives up on me though.” Lucy murmured.

Tim frowned, “Why would she?”

“Because eventually….” She hesitated, “Everyone always does.” 

Tim paused, absorbing her words. “Is that why you don't believe in soulmates?” 

Lucy sighed, “Yeah you don't want to hear about why I don't believe in soulmates.”

“Sure I do” Tim replied, a touch of humor in his voice. “I'm literally locked in a room and can't leave. Humour me.”

Lucy hesitated then said. “I'll tell you my story if you tell me yours”

Tim let out a short laugh. “Ha, yeah now that really is a story no one wants to hear”

And there it was. Lucy felt like Tim had just poured a bucket of ice water over her. He was literally facing death, and he was still rejecting her, albeit unknowingly. Her rational mind knew it was unfair to hold the comment against him, she'd been shielding her emotions for years, literally hiding in plain sight for the last six months. But the part of her she rarely let out, the party of her she'd so firmly denied for years, the part that cared so deeply for her soulmate… that part of her was hurt by his comment.

She took a deep breath to steady her emotions, once again carefully shielding herself from Tim. She decided to tell him an abridged version of their story, silently begging him to figure out who she was to him. Despite what she had been telling herself for years, faced with her soulmate's potential demise she was struggling to keep herself a secret. 

“I did something,” she started, her voice trembling slightly. “I… never found out what, but I know… I know that I ruined his life. That much has always been clear. He was so... important to me. And whatever I did, it changed everything.” She shrugged, trying to mask the pain with indifference. “After that, my parents... Well, let’s just say I’m not good for their image, especially now that I’m a paid bully for the city.”

She paused, the memories surfacing, raw and painful. “They wanted perfection, and I was far from it. I was the black sheep, the screw-up. Becoming a cop was my way of trying to prove them wrong, to show that I could be more. But it didn’t change anything. They still see me as a failure. Jackson has been my best friend since forever, he's the only one I know will never leave me.” 

She blew out a breath. “So that's my story, that's how I know there's no such thing as soulmates, because if there were… mine would have thought I was worth the effort.”

Tim felt a pang of empathy as he thought of his own soulmate, his sunshine, how he would give anything to not have her trapped in the hell that was his life. “I get it, and trust me, my own story isn't nearly as devastating in comparison. But it's still…. Difficult. Honestly, most of the time I wish I could just be free of it all. Do you ever wish that?  No emotional connection. No bond. No soulmate. Just free to live your life the way you want?” 

Lucy nodded. “Yeah. Yeah I do.” 

Tim pulled at his shirt, and wiped his brow. “Where the hell is that vaccine eh?” 

“It's coming Bradford, I promise, just hang in there.” 

Tim had pulled a sheet off the bed and draped it over Pete's body, but sitting in the room for so long was getting to him. The confinement was wearing on him, the room's stifling atmosphere pressing down harder with each passing minute. "Chen, if uh, if the vaccine doesn’t get here soon and I start showing more symptoms… I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to hold out." 

Lucy's eyes widened in alarm. “What, no Bradford, what does that mean?” 

Tim's fingers brushed against his service weapon, “It means Boot, that if I'm going to go out, it's going to be on my own terms.”

"No!" Lucy’s voice cracked. "You can’t think like that. You’re going to get through this. You’re strong, you can hold on.”

Tim leaned his head back against the door, closing his eyes for a moment, trying to block out the dizziness and rising panic. "I appreciate the confidence, Boot, but you know as well as I do what this virus can do. If it gets to that point… It'll be on my own terms. 

Lucy fidgeted with her fingers, her nerves raw. She kept shifting her attention from the flap of her radio holster to the scuffed floor, anything to distract herself from Tim's confession.

“What will I tell Isabel?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Tim's voice came through the door, resigned but steady. “It's been over between us for a while now. But... I suppose if you have to tell her anything, you tell her… tell her that I fulfilled my vows. My promise.”

“Let us through! Clear the doors!” The cavalry had arrived, and just in time, Lucy wasn't sure her nerves could take waiting any longer, or Tim's. Relief washed over her as she spotted Dr. Morgan amidst the flurry of activity.

“Dr. Morgan, thank god. Please tell me you have the vaccine with you,” Lucy implored, as she jumped to her feet. 

Dr. Morgan nodded. “I do. Please step back.”

She knocked on the door firmly. “Officer Bradford, it’s time to open up.”

The vaccine was administered, and Tim immediately felt better. Though he knew it was mostly the placebo effect, bolstered by the sheer relief of being let out of the confined room. As he stepped through the quarantine barriers, he took a deep breath of the fresher air, feeling the tension begin to melt away. But the relief was short-lived.

Something felt off. His legs buckled, and before he could call out for help, he collapsed to the ground.

"Tim!" Lucy's scream pierced the air as she rushed to his side, her heart pounding in her chest. The medical team quickly surrounded him, checking his vitals and preparing to administer further treatment.

Dr. Morgan knelt beside him. "We need to get him on a stretcher, now!" she commanded, her voice steady but urgent.

Lucy watched helplessly as the medical team worked frantically to stabilize Tim. Her heart raced, and she felt a knot of fear tightening in her stomach. She barely registered Jackson’s presence until he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a comforting embrace. She leaned into him, drawing strength from his support, but she refused to let her eyes leave Tim.

"Please, please be okay," she whispered. 

Jackson tightened his grip slightly, his voice a soothing murmur in her ear. "He's strong, Lucy. He'll pull through this."

The scene around Tim was a blur of urgent movement. Paramedics calling out vitals, Dr. Morgan issuing rapid instructions, the beep of medical devices, all blending into a cacophony that seemed distant and muffled compared to the loud thumping of her own heartbeat.

Tim’s eyelids fluttered, a faint groan escaping his lips as the medical team lifted him onto the stretcher. Lucy's breath hitched, her grip on Jackson’s arms tightening. “Come on, Bradford. You’ve got to be okay,” she muttered, more to herself than anyone else.

As they wheeled Tim towards the waiting ambulance, Dr. Morgan glanced back at Lucy.  "We’re taking him to the hospital. He’s in good hands, I promise," she said, offering a reassuring nod before turning her attention back to Tim.

Lucy felt Jackson give her a gentle squeeze. "Let’s go. We’ll follow them to the hospital," he said, guiding her toward his car.

Chapter Text

On the way to the hospital, Jackson filled Lucy in on everything she'd missed while she had been with Tim at the quarantine house. He and Lopez had tracked down and neutralized the parties responsible for the weaponized virus. The operation had been intense, but they managed to apprehend the culprits without further casualties. The threat was over, and the city was safe again, at least from this immediate danger. 

Jackson's voice was comforting, and Lucy listened, her mind still partially focused on Tim.

They arrived at Cedars-Sinai, the nearest hospital. Lucy's heart raced as they hurried inside, her thoughts solely on Tim's condition.

Once inside, a nurse at the reception desk directed them to Tim’s room. "He’s stable," she said, offering a kind smile. "He’s already been triaged, seen by a doctor, and moved into a room for observation.”

Relief washed over Lucy, but the knot in her stomach remained. She needed to see Tim with her own eyes to truly believe he was okay. They made their way through the maze of hospital corridors, the sterile smell of disinfectant sharp in her nose.

As luck would have it, the first familiar face she saw was Isabel, standing with a group of medical personnel. Lucy’s heart sank and soared at the same time. She rushed over, her voice breaking with concern. "Isabel! How... how is he?”

Isabel turned from the team she had been speaking to and faced Lucy, her expression puzzled. “I’m sorry, officer…?”

Lucy cursed herself for the oversight. Of course, Isabel didn’t know her. “Right, sorry. Chen, ma’am. Officer Lucy Chen. Ti- uh, Officer Bradford is my TO.” 

Isabel's features softened in recognition. “Ah, okay. I was just about to find Dr. Morgan for an update. Come with me.”

Lucy followed Isabel through the corridors of Cedars-Sinai, her mind racing with worry. She had to remind herself to breathe, focusing on the rhythmic sound of Isabel’s footsteps to ground herself.

They reached the office where Dr. Morgan had set herself up, where the doctor was poring over a patient chart. She looked up as they entered, her face a picture of calm professionalism. “Dr. Mackenzie, Officer Chen. I have an update on Officer Bradford.”

Lucy’s heart pounded in her chest as Dr. Morgan continued. “Officer Bradford's condition has stabilized. We think the reaction at the site earlier was likely a combination of the vaccine and the physical trauma he sustained. He’s showing positive signs of recovery, but we’ll keep him under close observation for the next 48 hours. After that, if all goes well I'm confident he'll be back at work in two weeks.” 

Lucy and Isabel sighed a collective sigh of relief. “Oh thank God” Isabel breathed. Lucy swallowed thickly, her shoulders sagging in relief. She looked at Isabel and then back to Dr Morgan. “Can I see him?”

Dr. Morgan nodded. “Yes, but keep it brief. He needs rest.”

“Common, I'll take you “ offered Isabel 

She led Lucy down another corridor to Tim’s room. The door was slightly ajar, and Lucy peeked inside, seeing Tim lying on the bed, looking weary but alert, and Angela sitting in a chair by his side.

“I'll be out here if you need anything,” said Isabel quietly, stopping just outside the door.

“You're not coming in? Lucy questioned, glancing back at her.

“Better not to, I think.” Isabel replied. 

Lucy nodded and took a deep breath before stepping inside. As she entered, Tim’s eyes flicked open, and a tired smile spread across his face. “Hey, Boot.”

Lucy tried to keep her composure but couldn’t help the relief that washed over her. “Spending hours locked in a room under threat of impending death wasn’t enough, hey? Had to go and collapse on us?” she teased.

“Yeah, well… it just seemed anti-climactic,” Tim laughed weakly.

Angela stood up, giving Lucy a supportive nod. “I’ll give you two a moment,” she said softly, starting to step away.

Lucy reached out, her hand lightly touching Angela’s arm to stop her. “No, it’s okay, I don’t want to intrude. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” She glanced back towards the door, her eyes betraying the mix of relief and worry she felt. “I’m going to go, but if you need anything…”

Tim interrupted her, his voice firm but kind. “I won’t ask, Boot. You still have an exam to prep for. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.”

Lucy hesitated, and bit her lip, nodding slowly, and forcing herself to take a step toward the door. “Alright…. Just take care Sir.” 

Angela watched the exchange with interest, narrowing her eyes slightly. “I'll walk you out Lucy.” Turning towards Tim she added, “I'll be right back.” 

As they walked toward the exit, Angela broke the silence. “You know, my dream is to make detective. I feel like I’m good at picking up on those subtle details people try to hide.” She glanced sideways at Lucy, gauging her reaction.

Lucy felt a pang of anxiety but kept her expression neutral. “Yeah? I think you'd make a great detective.”

Angela smiled, though there was a hint of something more behind it. “Thanks. You know, it’s interesting watching you and Tim. There’s definitely a connection there, something beyond just a mentor-trainee relationship.”

Lucy’s heart skipped a beat, but she kept her tone light. “Tim’s a great TO. He’s taught me a lot.”

Angela stopped walking and turned to face Lucy, her gaze piercing. “I get that, but it’s more than that, isn’t it?”

Lucy’s defenses wavered for a moment. She took a deep breath, her voice faltering. “I-I.. I don’t..”

Angela's expression softened. “Relax Lucy, you don't have to confirm or deny anything. I just want you to know that.. that there's more to him than what he lets people see.”

Lucy nodded wordlessly, and they continued walking toward the hospital exit in silence.

- - -

After two days of rest and last-minute cramming, Lucy finally sat down to write her exam. She meticulously went through each question, her training and preparation paying off as she answered with confidence.

Later that day, Sergeant Grey called her into his office. “Chen, I’ve got some news for you,” he began, glancing up from his paperwork. “Dr. Morgan has mandated that Bradford take two weeks to recover. While that happens you'll be riding with Lopez.”

Lucy nodded, her thoughts briefly drifting to Tim and his recovery. “Understood, sir.”

- - -

“Well, this will be fun!” Angela exclaimed as they settled into the patrol car for their shift. She adjusted her seat and glanced at Lucy with a grin. “It almost feels like I’ve got my own boot this year with all the theatrics Bradford’s been pulling lately.” She laughed, the sound light and genuine.

Lucy had been slightly nervous to ride with Lopez after their previous conversation where Angela had hinted at knowing about Lucy's connection to Tim. But as the shift began, the topic never came up. Instead, Angela focused on their work, sharing updates on recent cases and offering tips from her own experiences.

A few days before Tim was due to return, Lucy’s phone buzzed with a notification that made her frown. She swiped to unlock it and read the email. Angela, noticing the change in Lucy’s demeanour, glanced over with concern.

“What’s wrong?” Angela asked, her voice gentle.

Lucy took a moment to collect her thoughts before responding. “It’s an email from my old therapist’s office... Dr. Burnett. He’s passed away.” Her voice wavered slightly, and she quickly pulled up an internet search.

Angela waited patiently as Lucy scanned the search results. “This news article says he was reported missing about a month ago,” Lucy continued, her eyes widening as she read further. “And he was just found dead a few days ago.”

Angela’s expression turned serious. “I’m really sorry to hear that.”

Lucy nodded, her mind racing with memories of her sessions with Dr. Burnett. “He helped me through some really tough times,” she murmured.

An incoming call from dispatch interrupted their conversation. “7-Adam-7, detectives have received a missing persons report, they've requested you make contact with the reporter. Sending details to your box.”

Angela rolled her eyes good naturedly and gave Lucy a lopsided smile. “No rest for the weary.” And picked up her radio. “Copy dispatch, show us responding.”

They pulled up to the home of the person who had reported their victim missing. 

“LAPD” Lopez announced firmly as she knocked on the door. 

A frantic woman, who introduced herself as Sara, answered almost immediately. “Oh thank god. You're here about my friend Nora, right?”

“Yes ma'am” Lucy responded, noting Sara’s anxiety. “The detectives who took your call mentioned that you hadn't heard from your friend in a few days. Is that correct?”

“Yes,” Sara replied, nodding vigorously. “A-at first, I didn’t think anything of it, you know? It’s normal not to hear from her sometimes. She lost her soulmate a few years back and sometimes she goes quiet.” Sara’s voice trembled, but she fought to continue. “B-but a few months ago, she seemed happier, you know? Like she had something to live for again. She started dating this guy, Bryan, and it’s all been going so well. It’s just not like her to disappear without a word.”

Angela glanced at Lucy, who nodded. “Do you have any information on Bryan? Last name, address, anything that might help us find him and check on Nora?”

Sara bit her lip, thinking hard. “I… I don’t know his last name, but I know he works at a tech company downtown. Nora mentioned it a few times. And I think she said something about him living in an apartment complex near Wilshire and La Brea.”

“Thank you, Sara,” Angela said, jotting down the details. “We’ll follow up on this and keep you updated.”

Sara’s eyes filled with tears. “Please, find her. I’m really worried something bad has happened.”

Lucy placed a comforting hand on Sara’s shoulder. “We’ll do everything we can. If you think of anything else, no matter how small, give us a call.”

Arriving back at the station, Angela and Lucy headed straight to Detective Armstrong’s desk. He was in charge of Nora’s case and was waiting for their update.

“Good work, you two,” Armstrong said, looking up from his desk. “Listen, I pulled Nora’s credit card statement. I want you to comb through it and find anything that might point us towards her last location.” They nodded and turned to walk away, but Armstrong called them back. “I know to some, a missing Lost Soul might not seem important, but it is to me. Find her.”

Angela and Lucy nodded, getting to work reviewing the statements. They got to work immediately, poring over the credit card statements. Lucy noticed a recurring charge at a downtown bar and flagged it.

“Looks like Nora frequented this bar,” Lucy said, pointing to the statement.

They brought their findings to Detective Armstrong, who quickly pulled video surveillance for the bar in question. As they watched the footage, they saw Nora, clearly drugged, being led into an alley and pushed in the back of a vehicle.

“Look at him!” Angela exclaimed, her voice tight with frustration. “It’s like he knows where all the cameras are. He’s kept his back to us the whole time. There’s not a single frame we can use to get a positive ID on this asshole.”

Detective Armstrong began to pace, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “Okay,” he said, snapping his fingers as an idea struck him. “What if we track the vehicle on the street cams? Find out where it went.” 

It was a solid plan, one that quickly began to pay off. The street cams picked up the vehicle at several points, allowing them to trace its path. Although the car was eventually abandoned, they were able to rush a forensic analysis on the dirt from its tires. The results came back with a promising lead.

“This dirt,” the forensic specialist explained, holding up a sample, “has specific mineral deposits that are unique to one location: the abandoned zoo a few miles out of town.”

Angela’s eyes widened. “The abandoned zoo? That place has been deserted for years.”

Lucy leaned over the map, pinpointing the location. “It’s perfect for someone who doesn’t want to be found. Lots of old buildings and overgrown areas to hide in.”

Armstrong nodded, a determined look in his eyes. “Alright, let’s move. We don’t have any time to lose. If Nora’s there, we need to get her out before it’s too late.”

They found Nora in a dilapidated outbuilding, tied to a rusty bed frame and heavily drugged. The room was dimly lit, with broken windows allowing slivers of light to filter through. The air was thick with the smell of damp and decay.

Angela was the first to spot Nora's attacker peeking through one of the windows, his eyes went wide as he realised he’d been spotted. 

“Hey! Stop!” Angela shouted, but the attacker was already sprinting through the maze of overgrown pathways and crumbling structures. Angela gave chase, her feet pounding against the uneven ground, but he clearly knew the area well and was quick to put distance between them. 

Frustration surged through Angela as she lost sight of him. She stopped, panting, hands on her knees, as she scanned the area, listening for any sound that might give away his location. But he had vanished into the tangle of abandoned buildings and dense foliage.

Back at the outbuilding, Lucy worked quickly to untie Nora. “Hang in there, Nora. You’re safe now,” she said, her voice soothing. Nora’s eyes fluttered open, glazed with confusion and fear.

Angela returned, breathless and empty-handed. “He got away,” she said, frustration evident in her voice. “But we’ll get him. He can’t hide forever.”

Lucy nodded, focusing on comforting Nora. “We’ve got you, Nora. You’re going to be okay. We’re taking you to the hospital now.”

- - -

Exhausted, Lucy and Angela trudged to their cars at the end of the day. The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the parking lot, but neither of them had the energy to appreciate the beauty of the evening.

Detective Armstrong had given them a brief update about Nora's status. She'd bravely recounted the harrowing details of her captivity, and her friend Sara had been correct, it was the boyfriend who had taken her. 

"Can you believe the audacity of that guy?" Angela muttered, rubbing her temples as they walked. "Tattooing her with a date? It’s like something out of a horror movie."

Lucy nodded, her mind replaying the events of the day. "It's sick. But at least we got to her in time. She’s safe now."

Angela sighed heavily. "Yeah, but it’s not over. We need to catch Bryan before he can hurt anyone else.”

- - -

At home, Lucy indulged in a hot bath and a glass of wine, letting the warmth and the quiet soothe her frazzled nerves. Just as she was starting to relax, her phone buzzed on the edge of the tub.

Distraction-Caleb: Had the worst day today. Project I’ve been working on for a while went completely off the rails.

Lucy sighed and typed a quick response.

Lucy: Sorry to hear that. Need me tonight?

There was a brief pause before her phone buzzed again.

Distraction-Caleb: Nah, just needed to vent I guess.

Lucy: I get it. I hope it all works out for you.

She took another sip of wine, glancing at the screen as Caleb's next message came in.

Distraction-Caleb: I think it will… I have another project in the works, hopefully it will end better.

Lucy smiled faintly.

Lucy: Fingers crossed for you. Hang in there.

- - -

The next day, when they followed up with Detective Armstrong, he didn't have any updates. "Unfortunately, it’s just the way these things go sometimes," he said, a hint of frustration in his voice. "The important thing is that we found her, okay?" He motioned towards the roll call room. "Go on, there's nothing else I need from you right now. Get on with your day."

- - -

Sergeant Grey stood at the chalkboard, writing a series of numbers: 97, 94, 91, 86, 81. The room buzzed with the usual morning chatter of officers preparing for the day. Lucy walked in, her eyes immediately finding Tim, who was back in his seat. A smile tugged at her lips as she approached.

“Sir, welcome back. I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow,” she said, genuinely pleased to see him.

Tim glanced at her, his expression stern and unreadable. “Thought I told you to expect the unexpected, Boot,” he replied coldly. “Get to your seat.”

The abruptness of his tone caught Lucy off guard. She nodded, the warmth she had felt quickly replaced by a professional demeanour. “Yes, sir,” she responded, heading to her seat.

As she settled in, she couldn't help but feel a pang of confusion and hurt. She knew Tim had been through a lot, and perhaps it was his way of maintaining control and authority. But the coldness in his voice was hard to ignore.

Sergeant Grey turned from the chalkboard, addressing the room with a hint of amusement in his voice. “Alright, listen up. I decided to have a little fun this year, since we only have one rookie. Officer Chen, one of these numbers represents your exam score. The rest are random. I want you to tell me at the end of the day which one you think is yours.”

Lucy stole another glance at Tim, who was intently focused on Grey. “I'm confident in my training, sir. I'm certain I scored well,” she said, steady and assured.

Tim scoffed, a barely audible sound that nevertheless drew Grey’s attention. “Something to add, Officer Bradford?”

“No, sir,” Tim replied, his tone respectful but firm. “Although it’s worth noting that if Officer Chen here scored anything less than a 91, it will reflect poorly on me and everything we stand for.” He turned his gaze sharply to Lucy. “You better hope you did well, Boot.”

Sergeant Grey rolled his eyes, clearly used to Bradford’s intensity. “Yeah, yeah, settle down, tiger. Oh, and Officer Chen, you get to wear short sleeves today.”

“I believe that's my choice as her TO, sir,” Tim piped up again, his voice carrying a hint of challenge.

Angela, sitting beside him, elbowed him firmly in the ribs. Tim let out a small grunt of pain before resigning. “Fine. If you did better than a 91, you can wear short sleeves starting tomorrow. If not... long sleeves for you.”

- - -

The only word Lucy could use to describe being back in the shop with Tim was frosty. On some level, she had actually been looking forward to it. After the way he’d been training her the last few months and their ordeal at the quarantine house, she truly believed he meant it when he said he wanted to start over and be a better TO for her. But his behaviour this morning was the complete opposite of what she had come to expect, and it was… frosty.

As calls came in, Tim would bat her hand away to answer the radio, a task he would normally let her handle. Every question she had about the calls they responded to was met with short, one-word responses whenever possible. The usual camaraderie and instructional tone were gone, replaced by a distance that made her question everything she thought they had built.

When Tim veered out of their designated patrol area Lucy didn't outwardly question it, aware that inquiry might lead to a reprimand.

Stepping out of the shop and into the bright sunlight, Tim finally addressed her directly, his tone all business. “If you thought it was going to get easier for you after you passed the exam, you were wrong.”

“Awesome,” Lucy snarked under her breath.

“What's that now?” Tim demanded crossing his arms. at Lucy's silence he continued. “That's what I thought. You think you know everything, but guess what. You don't. For example. What is your most important asset as a cop.”

Lucy stared at him quizzically. “What is this a trick question?” 

Tim simply raised his eyebrows, waiting.

“Okay well, the easy answer is my gun, but I know that's not right. So. Um. My mind? No. That's too esoteric for you.”

Tim started getting annoyed. “Okay are you through not answering my question?”

Lucy huffed. “My judgement. Final answer.”

“Your eyes.” Tim immediately corrected. He uncrossed his arms, walking forward to tower over her. “Cop eyes, stop crime and save lives. I hope you payed attention in the academy Boot, because I had a buddy of mine on the bomb squad rig up a mock IED. It’s hidden somewhere in the park.” He gestured to the expanse of green space ahead of them. “Your job is to find it before it goes boom.” He looked at his watch, his expression stern. “You have ten minutes, or I'm adding the duty hat to your standard duty uniform. Go.”

Lucy’s heart sank at his words, but she forced herself to focus. She scanned the park, her mind racing as she recalled her training. She took off towards the park, her eyes sweeping the area for anything out of place. The usual sounds of the park—children playing, birds chirping—seemed distant and muted compared to the ticking clock in her mind.

Her gaze darted from one potential hiding spot to another. A playground teeming with kids, a row of benches with people enjoying their lunch, and a scattering of trees offering too many shadows. She caught sight of an unattended backpack on a picnic table and hurried towards it, her pulse quickening. Just as she reached it, a man walked over and picked it up, giving her a confused look. Not it.

Determined not to lose precious seconds, she scanned the area again. Her eyes locked onto a garbage can, slightly off the beaten path, half-hidden behind a cluster of bushes. It seemed like an ideal spot, unlikely to be frequently used and perfect for her test. She sprinted towards it, her heart pounding in her ears.

As she approached, she spotted a small, inconspicuous device tucked inside the bin, wires and a timer visible. Relief flooded through her as she realized she had found the mock IED.

She turned and called out to Tim triumphantly, “I found it!”

Tim propped a leg on a nearby bench, raised an eyebrow, and gestured to his ear, feigning deafness.

Lucy, determined to make her point clear, pulled out her radio and turned back to her discovery. Just as she clicked the button to announce her find to Tim, a loud pop echoed through the park. White powder erupted from the device, covering her from head to toe in fine dust.

Tim sauntered over, a slow, mocking clap echoing his approach. “Radio frequencies can set off a bomb,” he said, his tone dripping with condescension. “You gonna forget that lesson, Boot?”

Lucy stood there, feeling the grit of the powder on her skin, frustration boiling beneath her surface. She knew she should have remembered that crucial detail. Tim's smirk only added to her irritation, his eyes gleaming with the satisfaction of having taught her a harsh lesson. 

"No sir," she muttered, her voice barely hiding her frustration.

Tim's smirk faded, replaced by a steely glare. "No wonder you got an 81.”

The words hit Lucy like a punch to the gut. Of course he thought she got the 81. She felt her cheeks flush with a mix of anger and embarrassment. She had worked so hard, pushed herself to the limit, and yet here she was, covered in powder and scolded in public. She clenched her fists, desperately fighting to keep her emotions in check.

“Go get cleaned up.” He snarled, “You still need to be presentable for the rest of shift.”

Lucy bit her lip, holding back the retort that burned on her tongue. She turned and walked briskly to the shop. She grabbed a towel from the trunk and started wiping off the fine dust as best she could.

Tim watched her with a cold, detached expression, arms crossed over his chest. When she finally managed to clean up enough to be somewhat presentable, she took a deep breath, straightened her uniform, and rejoined him.

The rest of the shift passed in strained silence. Tim carried on as though nothing had happened, his only acknowledgment of the incident being the occasional barked command to "stop pouting.”

By the time they pulled into the sally port at the end of their shift, Lucy had reached her breaking point. She clenched her fists, her knuckles white with the effort to control her anger. She took a deep breath, ready to confront him.

“So, I guess I was right,” Lucy said, her voice trembling with a mix of frustration and exhaustion.

Tim glanced at her, eyebrows raised in confusion. “Boot, it’s been a long day. What are you talking about?”

“Here you are, treating me like it’s day one all over again,” she continued, her tone laced with hurt. “You said you wanted to change, to be a better TO. But I was right, wasn’t I? It was just one long Tim Test the whole time.”

Tim's expression hardened, his eyes narrowing. “No. I really was trying to be better. But you showed me it wasn't worth the effort the moment you lied on a report! You are a disgrace to that shield, and the only reason why I am not washing you from this program is because currently you make me look good.”

Lucy’s confusion deepened. “What are you talking about?”

“The quarantine house,” Tim snapped. “Suicidal ideations by an officer are to be immediately reported. I specifically said to you that I was going to take my own life that day, and you left it out of your report.”

Lucy’s heart pounded as she remembered that harrowing day. “I was trying to protect you!” she exclaimed, her voice shaking.

“That’s not your job, Boot!” Tim’s voice was cold and unforgiving, his eyes locked onto hers with a fierce intensity.

Lucy’s defiance flared. “No, you’re right,” she said, her voice lowering but gaining a steely edge. “And trust me, it’s not a mistake I’ll make again.”

Tim's jaw tightened, but before he could respond, Lucy continued, her voice fierce. “You’ve read my file, Bradford. You know my background. Do you think for even a moment that I would let you on the streets with a loaded gun if I remotely thought you were serious about taking your life?”

Tim's eyes bore into hers, a mix of anger and something else, respect, maybe. He knew she was tough, but this moment was pushing both of them to their limits.

“I knew you were desperate,” Lucy continued, her voice unwavering. “But I also knew you were strong enough to get through it. And I stayed with you, didn’t I? Every minute, right by your side. I trusted you, and that's why I left it out of my report…” 

She brushed past him, her shoulder almost grazing his as she made her way to the trunk. Tim stood rooted to the spot, a storm of emotions churning behind his stoic exterior. He watched as Lucy yanked their bags from the trunk with a force that betrayed her frustration.

As she strode back toward the station, she tossed a final remark over her shoulder, her voice edged with bitter disappointment. “I guess I was wrong.”

Lucy returned their gear, her movements brisk and mechanical. She then made a beeline for Sergeant Grey's office, her mind still reeling from the confrontation. She knocked once before entering. Grey looked up from his desk, taking in her tense posture, and leaned back in his chair.

“Well?” he prompted, his eyes steady on her.

“The 91, sir,” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady.

“Any particular reason you think that's your score, Officer Chen?” Grey asked, tilting his head slightly as he scrutinized her.

Lucy shrugged, a sad smile playing at the corners of her lips, Tim's earlier insults ringing in her mind.  “It's the middle of the road, sir. Average. Pretty much describes me, I think,” she said softly, the weight of the day evident in her tone.

Grey eyed her thoughtfully, rubbing a finger over his lip. He had seen many officers come through his office, but there was something different about Lucy, something that spoke to her resilience and determination, despite her current self-doubt. “Okay,” he said finally. “Well, you'll find out in the morning then. Good night.”

“Good night, sir.”

She left quickly, catching a glimpse of Tim out of the corner of her eye. Desperate to avoid him, she all but ran to the locker room to get changed. Her heart was racing, and she could still feel the sting of their earlier confrontation.

On her way, she nearly face-planted into Jackson. “Whoa, hey, Lucy! You okay?” he asked, steadying her with a concerned look.

Lucy glanced behind her nervously. “Y-yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, Jackson, rough shift. You know?”

Jackson’s eyes softened with understanding. “Yeah, I get it. Do you want to talk about it?”

“No… Thanks, though. I’d just rather get home,” Lucy said, forcing a small smile.

Jackson nodded, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Alright, but if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

“Thanks, Jackson,” she murmured before continuing to the locker room.

She'd almost finished changing when Angela rounded the corner, concern etched on her face.. “Hey Lucy, I ran into Jackson. He said you'd had a rough shift… want to talk about it?”

Lucy sighed, her shoulders sagging. “Oh, Officer Lopez, thank you for the offer. But, as I told Jackson, I just want to get home.”

“Officer Lopez?” Angela questioned, her brow furrowing. “Since when are we so formal with each other? Lucy, is everything okay?”

The genuine concern in Angela’s voice made Lucy’s defences waver, but she quickly steeled herself, her mind replaying the day’s harsh lesson and biting comments from Tim.

She fidgeted, her fingers trembling slightly as she struggled to maintain her composure. She’d managed to keep a tight leash on her emotions all day, but she could feel herself slipping. “Look,” she sighed deeply. “Officer Lopez. Angela,” she corrected, her voice softening. “You will never know how much I appreciate the kindness you have shown me these last two weeks. You figured out who I really am, and that’s on me. I slipped up…”

She paused, seeing Angela about to speak and quickly raised a hand to stop her. “Please, let me finish. You’re his friend first. I’ve loved having you in my circle, but I will never ask you to choose between us. And besides, you probably know everything about me from what he’s told you about his soulmate. It’s better if we just uncross the lines and stay TO and Rookie.”

Angela’s eyes softened, a mixture of understanding and concern reflecting in them. She opened her mouth to say something, but stopped herself, respecting Lucy’s request.

Lucy took a shaky breath, her voice barely above a whisper. “I really do appreciate you keeping my secret.” She turned away, not wanting to give Angela a chance to respond, her steps hurried as she moved toward the exit.

- - - 

At home, Lucy felt like she could barely settle her emotions. It was so stupid! She prided herself on her resilience, but the day's events had shaken her deeply. It wasn't just about handling Tim’s insults, it was the mental exhaustion from years of hiding herself. The relentless effort to maintain her secret while sitting next to her soulmate day in and day out had taken its toll. 

As she paced her small apartment, she replayed the day's events over and over. Tim’s biting remarks, his sudden coldness, it all felt like a betrayal. For months, she had started to believe that maybe, just maybe, the compliments and niceties from him were genuine. She had let her guard down, thinking they were making real progress. But today had shattered that illusion, revealing that it was all just part of his test.

Lucy slumped onto her couch, her body sinking into the cushions. She stared at the ceiling, the weight of her double life pressing down on her. The constant vigilance, the fear of slipping up, and now, the crushing disappointment of realising she had been wrong about Tim, it was too much. 

Today was the proverbial last straw. She had reached her breaking point. Her mind raced, jumping from one anxious thought to another, unable to find peace. The facade she had built so carefully was crumbling, and she didn’t know how much longer she could hold it together. She closed her eyes, willing herself to find some semblance of calm, but the storm inside her raged on.

She bit her lip, wrestling with the urge to do something she hadn't allowed herself to do since learning how to box her soulmate’s emotions, and hide herself from him. But tonight, the need to release her pent-up emotions won out.

Mind made up, Lucy prepared herself. She grabbed her Bluetooth speaker and brought it into the bathroom. Selecting a playlist she normally wouldn't listen to. She started the shower, letting the water run until it was steaming, then turned off the lights, plunging the room into darkness.

Stripping off her clothes, she stepped into the shower and clenched her eyes shut. If she projected her emotions, she didn't want Tim to have anything discernible to latch onto. The external barriers were in place, and she had done everything she could to hide the physical aspect of herself from Tim.

As the hot water cascaded over her, Lucy finally let herself cry. The sound of the water masked her sobs, and the darkness felt like a protective cocoon. She leaned against the cool tiles, her body shaking as the tears flowed freely. All the frustration, the exhaustion, the disappointment—everything she had been holding back, and hiding—poured out of her.

- - -

The pounding on his front door startled Tim from the game he’d been watching. He’d been feeling progressively worse all evening, a gnawing discomfort deep within him that he couldn’t quite pinpoint. He chalked it up to a bout of indigestion.

“Tim Bradford, I know you’re in there, and you will open this door, or so help me!” Angela shouted from the other side.

Tim jumped up and ran to the door, yanking it open. “Damn, Ange, what’s the big deal?”

Angela's response was swift and sharp—a slap to the side of his head.

“Ow! What the hell, Angela?” he exclaimed, rubbing his temple in bewilderment. He looked at her, confusion and frustration etched across his face.

Angela crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing. “Here we are again, Tim. How many times before the year is up am I going to have to tell you that you’re a raging asshole?”

Tim rolled his eyes, a mix of exasperation and defensiveness in his posture. “Oh, let me guess. The Boot went running to you to tell you all about her big, bad TO today?”

Angela’s expression hardened, and she let out a sarcastic laugh. “Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Tim? No. She actually did exactly the opposite. She wouldn’t tell me a damn thing and ran away from me. So that’s actually telling me all I need to know and… Wait. Are you... crying?”

Tim sniffed and rubbed the back of his hand over his eyes, trying to hide the tears. “Shut up. I’m just feeling weird tonight. It’s nothing. Indigestion is kicking my ass.”

Angela eyed him curiously, her concern deepening. “How long have you been feeling this way?”

Tim shrugged, sniffing back more tears. “Dunno. All night, I guess.”

“Oh, you damn idiot,” muttered Angela. She cuffed him on the back of his head again, causing him to wince. “It’s your soulmate, you idiot! You’re feeling her, not indigestion. Men, I tell you what.”

“What?” Tim’s eyes widened in disbelief. “No, no. It’s not possible, I told you, I've barely felt her in years.”

“Yeah, in fact maybe it's been so long that you might dismiss her emotions as indigestion?” Demanded Angela. 

“Oh shit,” Tim muttered, the realization hitting him like a ton of bricks. “What do I do? How can I help her? If I’m crying that must mean that she is too right?” he asked helplessly. 

Angela pulled out her phone, quickly tapping out a message. She answered Tim distractedly, her fingers flying over the screen. “Just calm your own emotions, Tim. Help her by not making her feel you. It’s all you can do right now.” She put the phone up to her ear and muttered, “Come on, pick up, pick up, pick up.”

“Ange, who are you trying to get a hold of? Are you okay?” Tim’s concern deepened, his eyes searching hers.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Angela replied, her voice steady but urgent. “Listen, I’ve got to go. Just remember what I said. Try to keep yourself calm.” She glanced at him one last time before heading for the door, her phone still pressed to her ear.

Tim stood in the doorway watching Angela leave, rooted to the spot as he grappled with the realization that he had unknowingly been feeling his Sunshine’s emotions all evening. He closed the door quietly, his hand lingering on the doorknob for a moment before he slid down to the floor, his back against the cool wood.

With a deep breath, he tried to focus all his strength on finding her emotions within him. It was like tuning into a distant signal, faint but unmistakable. She was upset, crying, and he could feel the echo of her pain deep within him.

He closed his eyes and took another deep breath, inhaling slowly. He knew that to help her, he had to find his own center first.

After a few moments, he got up and made his way back to the couch. He sank into the cushions, staring at the game on the TV but not really seeing it. “Happy place, happy place, happy place,” he muttered as a mantra to ground himself.

Tim focused on the game, forcing his mind to latch onto the commentary and the action on the screen. Gradually, he felt the chaos inside him begin to subside, replaced by a tentative calm. He hoped that somewhere, his Sunshine was feeling the same, his efforts bringing her a small measure of peace amidst her pain.

- - - 

As the water gradually ran cold, Lucy had to admit she was feeling better. Years of pent-up emotions had finally been released, leaving her feeling lighter than she had in a long time. The weight she carried seemed to have lessened, the catharsis of crying in the shower providing a much-needed relief.

She stepped out and wrapped herself in a soft, warm towel, savouring the sensation as she dried off. Walking into her bedroom, she noticed her phone flashing with missed messages and calls. Angela had texted, asking if she was okay. Despite her appreciation for Angela's concern, Lucy had already set that boundary and decided it could wait.

Instead, she scrolled through her text messages, her thumb hesitating over several contacts before finally settling on the one person who could help her clear her mind of everything else. Taking a deep breath, she typed out a quick message.

Lucy: Can I come over? 

- - - 

“Your text sounded urgent. Normally, you at least start with a hello,” Caleb called from the kitchen. He poured a generous glass of red wine, the liquid sloshing lightly as it filled the glass. Walking through to the living room, he found Lucy perched on an armchair, her posture tense and her eyes distant.

He handed her the wine, his gaze searching her face. “Everything okay?” he asked, his concern evident.

Lucy took a large sip, savouring the rich flavour before answering. She wiped a drop from the corner of her mouth with her finger. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just... shitty day, you know?”

Caleb sat down opposite her, the leather of the couch creaking softly under his weight. He nodded in understanding, “I do,” he said simply, leaning forward slightly to show he was there for her, ready to listen.

Lucy ran her finger around the rim of her glass, watching the wine swirl gently. “Today just… made me question everything I’ve been working towards lately,” she said.

Caleb hummed thoughtfully, his eyes never leaving her face as he listened intently. She took another drink of her wine, the liquid warming her from the inside out.

“Honestly, I felt like quitting,” she continued, her voice wavering slightly. “I was just… so frustrated, and I felt so… worthless. Do you ever feel that way?”

Caleb glanced at the watch on his wrist. “Yeah, I think I know what you mean. Remember last week, that project I told you about?”

Lucy nodded, recalling his disappointment over text.

“Well,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair, “someone came in and completely threw it off the rails at the last second. I’d planned so meticulously around every detail, and then... it all fell apart. I was frustrated beyond words.”

Lucy’s eyes widened slightly in sympathy, her own problems momentarily forgotten as she listened to his story.

“But,” Caleb continued, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, “I decided to move on early to my next project. And, turns out, it’s coming together quite nicely. Sometimes, things just have a way of working out when you least expect it.”

Lucy’s vision became a bit fuzzy, and she blinked rapidly, trying to clear her head. She giggled softly, feeling the effects of the wine mingling with the emotional exhaustion. Setting her glass down on a nearby table, she said, “Hmm, I think too much wine after crying is getting to me!”

Caleb chuckled, watching her with amusement. “Yeah, that’s probably not the problem.”

Lucy blinked in confusion, her mind struggling to keep up. “W-what?” she stammered.

“You know, I was working Nora for months? Honestly, I'm kind of surprised you found her so fast. I really didn't anticipate that. And your friend almost caught up to me too!”

Lucy’s heart started to race as her vision continued to blur and her body felt increasingly heavy. “Wait, Nora..?” she repeated, her voice slurring. Panic began to set in as she pieced together what he was saying. “D-did you… put something in my drink?”

Caleb’s smile widened, a sinister edge to it. “You’re a smart one, Lucy. Too smart, maybe. But don’t worry, it’ll be over soon.” He stood up and slowly walked over to her, his eyes cold and calculating.

Lucy tried to push herself up, but her limbs felt like lead. “Why?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Caleb crouched down beside her, his face inches from hers. “Because you were convenient. And then, you got too close. And now, you’re not going to be a problem anymore.”

Chapter Text

Tim took a long drink from his coffee as he sat in his usual seat at roll call that morning. The dark circles under his eyes were proof of the restless night he had endured. Despite his best efforts to keep his mind and emotions calm for the sake of his soulmate, sleep had eluded him. He had even gone to bed earlier than usual, hoping the peacefulness of sleep would help, but his dreams had other plans.

The dreams were odd, jumbled, disjointed, and foggy in a way that left him feeling unsettled. Brief, haunting visions of a man he swore he had never met before flickered through his mind, adding to his unease. Each time he awoke, he found himself sweating and breathing heavily, his heart pounding in his chest. He felt bad, knowing that his tossing and turning had probably defeated the purpose of going to bed early.

He sat nursing his coffee, the bitterness a welcome distraction as he tried to fight off the fatigue from last night’s unease. His mind was a haze of restless dreams and half-formed thoughts. The room slowly filled with the chatter of his fellow officers, their voices a dull hum in the background. Tim took another sip of his coffee, hoping the caffeine would kick in soon and help him focus.

“Hey, how are you feeling this morning?” Angela asked, sliding into the seat next to Tim. She looked at him with concern, her eyes searching his face for any signs of how he was truly feeling.

Tim hummed in response, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. “Alright, still a bit weird, but my soulmate is feeling better I think. Haven't felt her for a few hours.”

Relief flickered across Angela’s face, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “Good. I’m glad to hear that,” she said, and reached out and gave his arm a reassuring squeeze.

Slowly the rest of the patrol officers filtered in, ready for the morning briefing. Jackson sat at the table across from Angela and Tim, his brow furrowed. “Hey guys,” he whispered, leaning in. “Have you heard from Lucy this morning? She's late?” He nodded toward her empty seat.

Angela glanced at Tim before turning back to Jackson. “Hey Jackson, can I talk to you for a sec?” She angled her head toward the door.

“Ah, yeah. Sure.”

As they both stood up and headed for the door, Tim watched them go, confusion etched on his face. He couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that something wasn’t quite right.

The moment the door closed, Angela grabbed hold of Jackson's arm with a firm grip. “Have you heard from her since yesterday? I tried, but I never got a response. Then Tim said he wasn’t feeling well.”

“Tim?” Jackson raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Oh come on, Jackson, be real. You think I don’t know they’re soulmates?” Angela rolled her eyes impatiently. “Anyway, he said he wasn’t feeling well… Jackson, I have a bad feeling.”

Jackson's expression turned serious. “What do you mean, a bad feeling?”

Angela’s voice dropped to a near whisper. “Tim’s emotions were all over the place last night. If Lucy was feeling that too, something must have happened.”

“Okay, let's not panic,” Jackson said, trying to stay calm. “Maybe she just overslept? She had a hard day yesterday, and if Tim felt her emotions, maybe it was just too much for her to handle. I'll try to call her.” He quickly pulled out his phone and dialed Lucy's number. After a few rings, it went straight to voicemail. “No answer. You try.”

Angela pulled out her phone and tried calling Lucy as well. “Nothing,” she said, frustration evident in her voice. She stomped her foot as she noticed Sergeant Grey entering roll call with Detective Armstrong close behind him. “Come on, we'll figure this out after,” she said, leading Jackson back into the room.

They exchanged worried glances as they took their seats, wanting to get through the briefing as quickly as possible so they could start searching for Lucy.

Sergeant Grey stood at the front of the room, scanning the assembled officers. “Seems like we're missing someone. Bradford! Where's your Boot?” he demanded.

Tim glanced up, his expression a mix of annoyance and genuine uncertainty. “Dunno, guess she wanted her first blue page today.”

Grey rolled his eyes, “Well I guess that'll have to wait until after. Detective Armstrong, you have the floor this morning.”

Detective Armstrong stepped forward, nodding in acknowledgment. “Thank you, Sergeant Grey.” He turned to address the room. “Regarding the abduction case from the other day, Nora Valdez was able to sit with a facial sketch artist and describe her boyfriend.” He held up a hand to preempt any interruptions. “Before any of you ask why she couldn’t just provide a photo, Mr. Bryan Coleman, which we have now determined to be an alias, worked in the tech business and as such, never allowed his photo to be taken.”

Armstrong clicked on the TV, revealing a detailed sketch of the suspect’s face.

For Angela and Jackson, it was as if the world had stopped spinning. They stared at the screen, their eyes widening in shock as they realized they recognized the man in the sketch.

“Sir,” Jackson paused, swallowing hard to collect himself. “That man’s name is Caleb.”

Detective Armstrong raised an eyebrow and held up a hand to pause the room's murmurs, pointing to the TV with the other. “I'm sorry, you know this man?”

“We both do,” piped up Angela, “that's-Tim? Tim what's wrong?”

Tim was rubbing his chest, jaw clenched and eyes fixed on the television.

“Tim!” Shouted Angela, shaking his shoulder.

He jolted, snapping out of his stupor, and turned to her with a haunted look. “Angela, I know him… he was in my dreams last night.”

Angela's eyes widened in alarm. She leapt from her seat and hurried to the front of the room, tapping Jackson on the shoulder as she went. Once there, she placed a hand on both Sergeant Grey and Detective Armstrong, steering them into a corner of the room.

“We have a problem,” she whispered urgently, her voice low but intense. “Lucy was seeing this man occasionally. And Tim just said… oh God.” She rubbed her temples, her mind racing.

Detective Armstrong’s brows furrowed in confusion. "I'm sorry, catch me up. Are you telling me that Bradford and Chen… are soulmates?" he asked, struggling to process the new information.

“Yes, that's what I'm saying. Keep up would you? But Tim… he doesn't know and last night-” Angela broke off as she noticed Tim's chest heaving. He had his eyes closed and was breathing heavily, quickly nearing a state of panic.

“Tim!” Angela yelled rushing over and dropping to her knees by his side. “Tim, what's wrong, what are you feeling?”

Tim could barely form coherent words, but Angela managed to make out what he was saying. “Pro-projection…” he gasped, his voice trembling.

- - -

Lucy jerked awake, her senses dull and disoriented. Her vision was blurred, and she struggled to make out her surroundings. The dim light of the room cast eerie shadows, adding to her confusion. A faint buzzing sound reached her ears, and she winced as a sharp pain radiated from her side.

Blinking rapidly, Lucy tried to clear her mind, but the effects of whatever drug Caleb had used were still strong. Her body felt heavy, and her movements were sluggish. She attempted to lift her arms but found her wrists and ankles tightly bound to the cold metal table she lay on. Panic began to set in as she tugged futilely at her restraints.

As the fog in her mind began to lift slightly, Lucy's senses sharpened just enough to register that she was not alone. The buzzing sound became more pronounced, and she turned her head with great effort to see Caleb standing over her, a tattoo gun in his hand. The realization hit her like a punch to the gut—the buzzing and pain she felt moments ago were from Caleb etching a tattoo into her skin.

His face was a mask of concentration, eyes fixed on his work as the needle moved methodically across her side. The room was filled with the acrid smell of ink and antiseptic. Caleb glanced up, his expression shifting to one of satisfaction when he noticed Lucy was awake.

“Ah, you're awake,” he said, a twisted smile spreading across his face. “Just in time to see my masterpiece.”

Fear and anger surged through Lucy, but her drugged state made it difficult to express either. She tried to speak, her voice coming out as a hoarse whisper. “What are you doing to me?”
Caleb's smile widened, a sinister glint in his eyes. “I’m doing you a kindness, Lucy,” he said, his voice dripping with malice. “Not many people get to know exactly what day they'll die, but you? You will. This, Lucy, is your day of death.”

Her heart pounded wildly in her chest as a surge of terror coursed through her. Desperately, she fought against the bindings, her wrists and ankles straining against the unforgiving restraints. The cold metal of the table pressed against her skin, heightening her sense of vulnerability.

Caleb lowered the tattoo gun to the table beside him with a deliberate slowness, his movements calculated and precise. His hand reached for a syringe, its contents glinting ominously under the dim light. The sight of it sent a fresh wave of panic through Lucy, her breath coming in shallow, rapid gasps.

“Now, unfortunately, I'm not quite done yet,” Caleb said, his tone almost mockingly gentle. He held the syringe up, examining it briefly before stepping closer to her. “Back to sleep you go. There… that’s it… ssshhhhh.”

Lucy’s vision blurred further as Caleb pressed the syringe to her arm. She felt a sharp prick followed by a cold sensation spreading through her veins. Her eyelids grew heavy, and despite her frantic attempts to stay awake, her body began to succumb to the drug.

“Please… no…” she murmured weakly, her voice barely audible as darkness crept in.

Caleb's face was the last thing she saw, his expression one of twisted satisfaction as her world faded to black.

- - -

Tim's eyes shot open, and before he could even process his surroundings, a wave of nausea hit him like a freight train. He bolted from his seat, making a beeline for the nearest garbage bin. The room spun around him as he fell to his knees, gripping the edge of the bin and retching violently.

Angela was right behind him, her hand on his back, gently rubbing circles between his shoulder blades. "It's okay, Tim. Breathe, just breathe," she murmured.

Tim heaved again, the sour taste of bile burning his throat. Angela's touch and calming words were his only anchors in the chaos of his mind. Finally, when he had nothing left to give, he slumped back, leaning heavily against the wall. His breath came in ragged gasps, and his skin was clammy with sweat.

“You're okay Tim, just take it easy.” Whispered Angela. “That's right, deep breaths. Good.”

Jackson stood with Sergeant Grey and Detective Armstrong, his eyes on Tim. “Sergeant Grey, I know when she was hired Lucy had to be interviewed by IA…” He paused, noticing Armstrong's puzzled look. “Because she’s an unchosen,” he quickly explained. “If Bradford doesn’t piece it together on his own, out of respect for Lucy, I’d rather let him believe we are searching for two separate victims… if it’s okay with you sirs.”

Sergeant Grey thought for a moment. “I can’t say that I particularly like it, but if Bradford the officer and Bradford the soulmate really are as opposite as Officer Chen believes… then I’m on board. For now.”

Armstrong nodded, though his concern was evident. “We need to find Lucy, and if this is the best way to keep Tim focused and effective, then so be it.”

As the sergeant and detective discussed the plan, Angela continued to soothe Tim. His breathing was starting to even out, and the colour was slowly returning to his face. She looked over at Jackson, who gave her a small nod.

“What did you see?” she asked gently, her hand still resting on his shoulder.

“I don’t know… it was… fractured almost. Like she couldn’t think clearly. But it was definitely him, and he has her chained to a table, and it looked like… like he was tattooing her?” Tim rambled, trying to relay everything he saw before the details slipped away, not that he thought he ever could forget.

Detective Armstrong approached, his expression intense. “That’s good, Tim. That matches up with what Nora said. Think, did you see anything else that can help us? Hear anything?”

Tim squeezed his eyes shut, trying to focus. “I couldn't hear anything, but I could see light coming through a window. The rest of it… she was so unfocused, I couldn't.” He shook his head in frustration, his voice cracking “I couldn't see anything else!”

“Okay, alright Tim. It's okay,” soothed Angela. “Listen, the best thing you can do right now is to keep yourself calm, just like last night.”

“No. No there has to be something else. I can't just sit here!” he jumped up, his eyes wild. He'd never felt so helpless in a situation. His soulmate, his Sunshine, was in the hands of a sadistic killer, and he didn't know anything about her that could be useful in finding her.

“No one is sitting son,” interrupted Grey gently. “This guy has one of our own, and apparently your soulmate too. So let's find one, so we can find the other.” He stood to address the room, his voice firm and commanding. “Okay, people, listen up! We are not letting this man kill. Someone get me Chen's phone records, find her last known location. Someone else, get a tip line going, and let's find everything we can on this Caleb or Bryan. Move!”

Every person in the room sprang into action, transforming the station into a hive of activity. Phones rang incessantly, voices were raised as orders were barked, and the tapping of keyboards filled the air. It was a controlled chaos, all driven by the singular goal of finding Lucy.

Angela stayed close to Tim, trying to allow her presence to ground him. She could see him struggling to stay focused, his emotions threatening to pull him under. She wasn't about to let that happen.

"Stay with me, Tim," she said softly, her eyes locked on his. "We need to keep our heads clear.”

Tim nodded swallowing hard “Angela…” his voice trembled, and he seemed so boyish in his desperation. She'd never seen her friend like this. “Angela why couldn't I hear her. You've always said that for you and Wesley, you can hear each other's projections like you're right there with them. Why couldn't I hear her?”

Angela sighed, her heart aching for him. "Tim… we've been together a long time."

"I know, I know, but… I need…" he trailed off helplessly, his eyes pleading for a solution he couldn’t find on his own.

Angela took a deep breath, choosing her words carefully. "You need to be tuned into her fully, Tim. It's not just about feeling her emotions. You need to want her more than anything. You need to want to understand everything she’s feeling. It’s like… opening your heart and mind completely to her. It’s not easy, especially with what she’s going through. But that’s the only way.”

"Hey, I've got something!" Detective Armstrong called out from his desk, breaking through their conversation. Tim and Angela, quickly followed by Jackson, rushed over to join him.

“Okay, warrant came through. Lucy's phone last pinged a tower near the 210. Before that we were able to triangulate her position to Cochran and 3rd. I need someone to pull street cams around that time and look for anything that could help.”

Angela turned to Jackson. "You handle the street cams. Check every angle, every feed we can get our hands on. We need to find her."

Jackson nodded, already walking to the nearest available computer. "On it.”

Minutes later Jackson slapped his hands on the table, with a triumphant shout. “Got her car! And look, this cam shows her walking into this building.” He pointed at the screen, the footage clearly showing Lucy entering an apartment building.

Tim didn’t waste a second. “Let’s go, kick down doors.” he declared, already stalking off towards the door.

Angela fell in step beside him. “Hold on, Tim,” she urged. “We need to do this right. Grey, we have a location!”

Sergeant Grey didn’t hesitate, barking orders to the rest of the team. “Jan, gear up! We’re moving out now. Jackson, stay here and keep monitoring the feed. Keep us updated on any movement.”

Angela took the wheel, driving them quickly to the apartment complex. Tim sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window as the city blurred past. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing in his ears.

Halfway there, a familiar sensation began to wash over him. It was faint at first, a mere flutter at the edge of his consciousness, but it quickly grew stronger. He could feel his soulmate, her emotions mingling with his own. She was scared, confused, but there was a glimmer of hope that hadn’t been there before.

“I’m feeling her again, I think she must be awake.” Tim said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Angela’s eyes flicked to him, then back to the road, her grip on the steering wheel tightening. “Is she projecting?”

Tim closed his eyes, focusing on the sensations coming from his soulmate. “No,” he replied slowly, trying to parse the flood of emotions. “But… she’s confused, and angry, I think.”

- - -

Lucy woke to an incessant tapping against her foot. Disoriented, she blinked groggily, her vision slowly clearing. She realized her wrists and ankles were bound to the chair with thick duct tape. The pressure cut into her skin, and she winced as she tried to shift. A sharp pain shot through her neck from where she had been slumped forward for an unknown amount of time.

As she became more aware, she noticed the source of the tapping. Caleb’s shoe tapping rhythmically against her foot. He sat across from her, watching her intently, a twisted smile playing on his lips.

“Oh hey! You’re awake again!” Caleb’s voice cut through the fog in her mind, all too familiar and dripping with mock cheerfulness. “Guess what? I finished my art installation.”

Lucy jerked in the chair, struggling against the tape that bound her. Her movements were frantic but ineffective, the adhesive only digging deeper into her skin. She glared at Caleb, her eyes blazing with fury. “Oh yeah? I’m so glad,” she spat. “Just wait until I get off this chair. I’ll make a little art installation of my own. Hope you’re not attached to your teeth.”

Caleb chuckled, leaning back in his chair with an infuriatingly calm demeanour. “Fiery as ever, I see,” he remarked, tapping a finger against his chin thoughtfully. “But I wouldn’t waste your energy trying to break free. You’re going to need it for what comes next.”

Lucy’s heart pounded in her chest as she continued to struggle, her breath coming in short, angry bursts. She focused on Caleb, trying to push down the fear that threatened to overwhelm her. “You won’t get away with this,” she hissed. “They’ll find me, and when they do, you’re going to wish you’d never laid a hand on me.”

Caleb’s smile widened, a cold glint in his eyes. “Oh, Lucy,” he said softly, his voice dropping with mock concern. “You really believe that, don't you?”

Lucy glared at him, her eyes narrowing with pure hatred. Caleb continued, unbothered by her defiance. “You know, normally, I go for the girls whose soulmates have died. It’s easy, clean. But you... you’re an Unchosen.” He leaned in closer, his breath hot against her face. “It’s new for me, kind of exciting, really.”

Lucy's eyes snapped up to meet his, her skin crawling and the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. “I never told you that. How..?”

Caleb’s eyes flashed with amusement, a smirk playing at his lips. “How did I know that? Common, give me a little credit here Lucy. I do my due diligence… need to make sure no one will miss the girls I take… at least not for a while.

He snapped his fingers, as if pretending to remember something. “Oh! Remember that business trip I went on? I paid Chris a little visit. Nice guy, still single, by the way… seems you ruined the dating experience for him. Don’t really see why, though.”

Lucy’s heart sank as he continued, a mocking smile playing on his lips. “And then there’s Dr. Burnett, your therapist. R.I.P., Dr. Burnett.” He made a mock cross symbol over his chest before blowing a kiss to the sky, his eyes never leaving Lucy’s. “Such a shame, really. He was quite helpful, wasn’t he?”

Caleb began to pace around the room, his movements deliberate and almost theatrical. He let out a dramatic sigh. “The thing is though, he had to go. See, your dear Dr. Burnett was one of the very few therapists who actually helped scum like you,” he said, making exaggerated air quotes around the word "helped."

He paused, turning to face her with a twisted smile. “He made you believe you were worthy,” he continued, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “And well, we can’t have that, now can we? Can’t have people like you thinking you deserve any kind of happiness or redemption.”

Lucy’s stomach churned as his words sank in. She strained against her bindings, her wrists aching from the effort. The pain and fear were almost overwhelming, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her break. “You’re sick,” she said through gritted teeth. “You’ll pay for this.”

Caleb’s smile widened, a sinister gleam in his eyes. “Oh, Lucy, it’s adorable that you think that. But for now, you’re mine to do with as I please.”

- - -

As they sped towards the location, Grey pulled out his phone and found the number for the building manager. “This is Sergeant Grey with LAPD,” he said, his voice commanding. “We need you to meet us immediately. It’s urgent.”

The manager agreed, and within minutes, they arrived at the scene. The manager was already there, looking nervous. “I recognized the man in the sketch,” he stammered, “but he gave me a different name. Said his name was Jerry Havel.”

Tim clenched his fists, anger boiling inside him. Another alias. Another layer of deceit. “Let’s get inside,” he growled, pushing forward.

The manager led them to the apartment, fumbling with the keys. As the door swung open, Tim’s heart pounded. They were close, he could feel it.

“Move in, carefully,” Grey ordered. “We don’t know what we’re walking into.”

Tim, Angela, and the rest of the team swept through the apartment, their senses on high alert. Tim’s eyes darted around, taking in every detail, searching for any sign of Lucy.

They finished clearing the apartment, but found very little. Tim started to feel uneasy, but was faster to realize this time that he was feeling his soulmate. “Ange, it's happening again, I'm feeling her more strongly now. What do I do?”

Angela moved to stand in front of him, grasping both shoulders firmly. "You have to trust the bond you share. It’s there, even if it feels faint. Think about everything she means to you, every moment you’ve felt her presence, even the smallest things. Focus on those feelings and let them guide you. You can do this, Tim. For her.”

Tim nodded slowly. “Okay. I can do this.” He moved to sit on a nearby chair resting his arms on his knees, closed his eyes, and breathed. In, and out, he continued to breath digging deep within himself to find his soulmate's emotions, desperate to grasp onto the line between them.

- - -

Caleb continued his monologue, his voice dripping with condescension. "You know, it usually takes a few days for anyone to notice when a girl goes missing. Soulmate is dead, so she’s probably just spending time alone. Grieving, dealing with depression. Stuff like that," he said, waving his hand dismissively.

He began to circle her again, his footsteps echoing ominously in the room. "Then, finally, someone has the bright idea to check in and notice she's gone…. But you… I wonder how long it will be? Honestly, I kind of figure they'll notice right away. I mean, you're a police officer," he said, leaning in close enough that Lucy could feel his breath on her face.

Caleb straightened, his eyes turning cold. "But once they figure out what you are… that you're an Unchosen… yeah. They're not going to try very hard to find you. After I found out what you are, it absolutely sickened me to spend time with you… to touch you. You're tainted, even by my standards. But still… I couldn't pass up the chance…”

He gripped her chin between his fingers, forcing her head to tilt back and forth. “Yeah…. I can see why too. You're so plain. Your hair is an ugly brown, and your body… well… you’re certainly not a model, are you? At least… that’s what you told your dear Dr. Burnett, wasn’t it? You think it’s because of the way you look that your soulmate didn’t want you, but let me tell you something, Lucy. It takes a lot for someone to give up their soulmate…”

He sucked his teeth, eyes glinting with cruel amusement. “You must have done something, failed so utterly, that he could not bear the thought of you anymore. You. Are. Nothing. Filth at best, and I will relish the thought of removing you from this world."

His fingers dug into her skin, emphasising each word, and Lucy’s heart pounded in her chest. The sting of his words cut deeper than she ever thought possible, but she refused to let him see her break. Even as tears welled up in her eyes and began to fall down her cheeks, she held his gaze, defiance burning through the fear.

- - -

Tim's eyes snapped open, his heart racing, his breath coming in shallow gasps. The name echoed in his mind, he'd heard it with a clarity that left no room for doubt. Lucy. His missing soulmate, his Sunshine, was Lucy.

He felt as though he were in a bubble. His heart thudded loudly in his ears, and he was only vaguely aware of Angela crouched in front of him, her face etched with concern.

"Tim? Tim. TIM!" she shouted, her voice cutting through the fog that enveloped him.

And then it was as if reality snapped back into place. “Lucy.” He whispered, the name feeling foreign yet painfully familiar on his lips. “Lucy is my missing soulmate.”

He felt himself begin to spiral out of control. “It—it has to be a different Lucy,” he stammered, his voice shaking. “Not Chen, it can't be her. Sh-she's not my Sunshine, she's cold, distant, and… No. No, it's not. It c-can't be. Oh god. Oh god, I did this. I did this to her.”

The weight of his actions, the choices he made, crashed down on him, nearly suffocating him in their intensity. The room seemed to tilt, the edges blurring as his breath quickened, and he struggled to hold on to the remnants of his sanity. Until he was thrown back in his chair by a sharp slap across the face.

He clutched his cheek, eyes wide with shock. "Angela, what the—?" he began, trying to muster a glare, but she paid him no mind, levelling him with a fierce glare of her own.

“That's enough Tim” She shouted. “Lucy, your soulmate, is fighting for her life right now, and I don't know what you just saw or heard Tim, but I guarantee your little pity party isn't helping her. So pick yourself up by your holster, and get it together!”

- - -

Caleb snapped his fingers sharply in front of Lucy's face. "Hey! Hello in there!"

Lucy blinked, her vision swimming back into focus as she was yanked from the hazy remnants of Tim's projection. The connection had been brief, a fleeting sensation that barely registered in her mind. She hadn't been able to hear anything, and the images had been too disjointed to make sense of, but it was enough to pull her away from the present, if only for a moment.

The reality of her surroundings rushed back in, and she found herself staring into Caleb’s mocking grin.

Caleb tutted, shaking his head as if scolding a child. "Drugs must still be wearing off. Cool." He gave her a dismissive wave. "You sit tight. I've got a few things to finish up. I'll be back."

With that, he turned on his heel, leaving Lucy alone.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Lucy’s eyes darted around the room, assessing her surroundings. There was only one exit, and the grimy windows offered no view of anything helpful. She wiggled her hands, testing the bindings again, and felt the arm of the chair give slightly. Her heart raced as she glanced toward the door Caleb had left through, straining to listen for any sound of his return. Satisfied that he was gone, she pulled with all the strength she could muster. The arm of the chair cracked under the pressure, and with a desperate rush, she loosened the rest of her bindings.

Wasting no time, Lucy stood, her legs shaky but determined, and moved toward the door. She prayed Caleb was far enough away as she bolted through it, only to be met with a vast expanse of nothingness. No houses, no trees, nowhere to hide. But she had no choice; she had to run. Her heart pounded in her chest as she sprinted forward, adrenaline pushing her faster, until she didn’t see the trip wire.

Her body slammed into the ground, the impact knocking the breath from her lungs. Before she could react, she felt Caleb’s hand grip her ankle, his cruel smile back in place as he began dragging her back toward the house.

“Now, now, Lucy,” he said with chilling calmness. “It’s not time yet.”

Once inside, Caleb yanked her down a narrow hallway, dragging her into a different room with peeling wallpaper and a damp, musty smell. As they passed a rickety table, he grabbed a handful of zip ties. He forced her to sit beside an old, rusted radiator, the metal cold against her skin.

With quick movements, he secured her wrists to the radiator, the zip ties biting into her flesh. “Please, just wait here,” he said with a mockingly gentle tone. His voice sent a shiver down her spine. “I promise, you’ll get to go outside soon.”

And with that, he turned on his heel and left the room, the door creaking shut behind him.

Lucy refused to succumb to the gnawing helplessness threatening to overwhelm her. Bound to the radiator, she took a deep, steadying breath, forcing herself to think. If escape wasn’t an option, she had to find another way, any way, to fight back.

Her mind raced, latching onto a memory Angela had shared about Wesley purposefully projecting his emotions. Lucy had no idea how to do it herself, but she thought of all the times Tim had projected, how she’d been overwhelmed by a surge of his emotions before being drawn into his world. Maybe she could reach him the same way.

She closed her eyes and burrowed deep within herself, searching through every corner of her mind for the strongest emotions she could find. She dug up memories of every significant moment in her life. Moments of joy, sorrow, anger. She let them wash over her, amplifying each one until she felt them all at once, raw and powerful.

With every ounce of strength she had left, she focused on those emotions and called out to him.

- - -

Tim struggled with the new information that his rookie was his soulmate, but realized that Angela was right. He needed to get it together.

He forced himself to stand, surveying the small, cluttered apartment. The other officers were methodically combing through every inch, searching for any clue that could lead them to Lucy. His gaze drifted to Angela, who was watching him closely. He offered her a tight nod, a reassurance that he was holding it together, even if only by a thread.

Determined to find something, anything, that could help, Tim moved toward a desk in the corner. But before he could reach it, a wave of emotions hit him, so overwhelming that it brought him to his knees. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think; it was too much.

His surroundings shifted. He was no longer in the apartment but in a dark, unfamiliar room. He could barely make out the outline of a bed in the corner and a grimy window that let in barely any light. And then, through the haze, he heard her voice, clear and desperate.

"Tim. Tim, please, if you can hear me... it’s Lucy… Chen. Your rookie," she began, her voice wavering as she fought to stay composed. "This isn't how I wanted you to find out about me. In fact, I never wanted you to find out at all. I know... I know you don’t owe me anything. I’m just your rookie, and I know I’m not what you wanted in a soulmate. But, please, Tim… I’m going to die. I’m going to die here.”

Her voice cracked, raw and pleading. “And I know, as my soulmate, you have no reason to care. But I’m begging you, as a woman who is about to be killed for sport. Please, Officer Bradford, help me.”

The words came out in a rush, desperation seeping through every syllable. “I’m being held somewhere secluded by the man I’ve been seeing, the same man responsible for abducting Nora Valdez. It’s far… no houses nearby, no landmarks I could see…” She let out a bitter, shaky laugh. “Some cop eyes I have, right? I’m sorry, Tim. I’m sorry I couldn’t be better for you… but please… Please help find me.”

- - -

Tim snapped back to reality with a sharp gasp, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He felt Angela’s hand on his back, moving in slow, soothing circles, grounding him to the present.

Sergeant Grey stood before him, his face etched with concern. “Bradford,” Grey began, his tone firm but regretful, “I’m sorry to do this to you, son, but I’m pulling you out of the field.

Tim’s head snapped up, eyes wide with shock. His first instinct was to argue, to refuse, but the words caught in his throat. The weight of what he had just experienced—the flood of emotions, the unbearable fear and sadness in Lucy’s voice—left him feeling drained, hollow. He opened his mouth to protest but found he didn’t have the energy to fight the decision.

“Lopez,” Grey continued, shifting his focus to Angela. “Take him back to the station, and stick by him. With the severity of the projections, I don’t want him left alone for even a moment. And besides that,” his voice softened as he glanced back at Tim, “he’s our only connection to Officer Chen.”

Angela nodded, as she wrapped an arm around Tim's shoulders, guiding him out of the building, and toward one of the cars parked outside.

Tim stared out the window on the drive back to the station, his mind replaying Lucy's words over and over. Finally unable to bear the weight of his thoughts any longer, he whispered, “She begged me to find her, Angela. She didn’t think I would.” His voice cracked, raw with the pain of that realization. “How did I screw up so badly that she thinks I wouldn’t care?”

Angela glanced over at him, her heart aching at the brokenness in his voice. She wanted to say something, to offer him some comfort, but all she could offer was a squeeze of his arm, and an equally quiet “We’ll find her, Tim.”

- - -

Lucy’s eyes flew open at the sound of the door creaking open, and the soft thud of it closing again. Despite her efforts to stay alert she must have dozed off.

Before she could fully gather her wits, Caleb was kneeling before her. His eyes bore into hers, a twisted smile curling at the corners of his lips.

“Lucy,” he murmured, his voice unsettlingly calm, “it’s time. I’m ready for you now.”

Caleb's hands were steady, as he secured Lucy's own wrists in front of her. Each tie pulled tight, biting into her skin, ensuring she had no chance of slipping free. When he was satisfied with his work he released her from the radiator, yanking her roughly to her feet.

He gripped her arm, his fingers digging painfully into her, and drew a gun from his belt and jamming it into her side. His eyes were flat, devoid of any empathy as he leaned in close, his breath hot against her ear.

"Try to run, Lucy" he hissed, his voice low and dangerous, "and I won't hesitate. Do you understand?”

He shoved her toward the door, forcing her to stumble out of the house. He pushed the gun into her back, urging her forward. "You know there's nowhere to run," he sneered. "So just walk, and enjoy the sun on your face while you can.”

Lucy walked, stumbling now and then, assessing her surroundings, trying to find any means of escape, but found none. She tried to count her steps at first, but gave up realising they would not be stopping soon. Instead she focused on the position of the sun.

Lucy trudged forward, her legs unsteady beneath her as she tried to maintain her balance. Every so often, her foot would catch on the uneven ground, causing her to stumble. Caleb’s grip would tighten, jerking her upright again. She winced with each tug, but kept moving.

Her eyes darted around, desperately scanning for anything, any detail she could use to her advantage. But all she saw was endless emptiness, a stretch of land with no cover, no shelter. She tried to count her steps at first, thinking it might help her keep track of where they were headed, but the effort soon felt pointless.

Instead, Lucy shifted her focus to the position of the sun. She noted where it was in relation to where she was walking, the intensity that it shone on her face.

Finally, in the distance, Lucy’s eyes caught sight of a mound of dirt, beside it stood a rusted metal barrel. Her heart sank as they drew closer, dread pooling in her stomach.

Caleb pulled her to a stop. “We’re here, Lucy,” he murmured, “I’ve thought long and hard about how I wanted to do this, how to make it… meaningful.” He paused, savouring the moment, his lips curling into a twisted smile.

“This seemed the most fitting,” he continued, his grip tightening on her arm. “I want you to be alone, truly alone, just as you’ve been your whole life. No soulmate, no friends to save you. I want you to have the time to properly reflect on every failure, every regret, every moment that brought you to this point. As your light fades… I want you to understand that this is what you deserve.”

Lucy’s breath hitched, but she forced herself to keep her eyes open, to keep her head high, even as the terror threatened to overwhelm her. Caleb’s voice droned on, but her mind was racing, desperately searching for a way out, some last-minute escape, anything to cling to.

As they neared the barrel, Lucy made a conscious decision not to resist. The cold pressure of the gun’s butt against her spine promised a swift, merciless end if she tried to run. But the barrel offered a different kind of finality. It would buy her time, precious moments in which she might still be found, might still have a chance.

With trembling fingers, she slipped the simple ring from her finger, the one piece of jewellery she still wore, and held it tight for a moment. It was her last chance to leave a trace, a marker that someone might find.

When she reached the side of the barrel, her foot caught on a loose stone, sending her stumbling forward and she seized the chance to flick the ring aside, letting it disappear into the dirt, before climbing in.

Caleb loomed over her, the metal lid clutched in his hands, a cruel smile playing on his lips. “Any last words, Lucy?” he taunted, his voice dripping with mockery.

Lucy managed a defiant laugh refusing to let him break her spirit. “Yeah,” she spat, locking eyes with him, her gaze filled with a fierce anger. “My friends will find me, and you'll be dead long before I am.”

Caleb’s smile widened, more amused than threatened. “Dare to dream, Lucy,” he sneered as he lowered the lid over her.

She felt the world shift as Caleb tipped the barrel, sending her tumbling into the pit below. The dull thud of earth falling around her vibrating through the metal. The sound gradually faded, until finally, there was nothing but silence.

To hell with this, she thought fiercely. Alone and buried, maybe, but she wasn't giving up. She’d be damned if she didn’t try to reach Tim again.

- - -

Tim paced anxiously in front of the whiteboard that held everything they knew about Caleb, trying desperately to piece together what little they had.

He glanced up at a knock on the door. Jackson held out a cup of coffee. “Thought you could use this. Any luck?”

Tim accepted the coffee with a sigh, leaning against a desk, running his hand through his hair. “No. There's nothing yet.”

Both sipped their coffee, but neither seemed to taste it. After a long tense silence, Jackson finally spoke, his voice simmering with frustration.

“For years, I’ve respected your position as my superior,” he began, his eyes locked on Tim's. “It certainly helped that Lopez was my TO, but even still… I’ve never meddled, never asked questions, even though I always suspected who you were to Lucy.”

Jackson paused, allowing the weight of his words to settle. He needed Tim to understand what he was about to say.

“But I’ve also watched her struggle with who she is,” Jackson continued, his voice hardening. “I’ve seen the doubt you planted in her so long ago. The way she questioned herself, questioned her worth, because of you.”

The anger that had been bubbling under the surface finally broke through as Jackson shot to his feet, unable to contain it any longer.

“You're hiding in here as if you are the victim in this, but it's her. She was lonely, Bradford. She's been alone the last ten years, a shell of the person she used to be, filled with an emptiness that none of us will ever be able to understand, because of you.”

Angela's voice quietly cut through his rant, from where she stood in the doorway. “Jackson, that’s enough.”

Jackson nodded, more out of respect for Angela than any desire to rein himself in. But before he left, he turned back to Tim.

“She's my best friend, and a good person Bradford. If we don't find her, I will hold you responsible.” And with that he was gone.

Angela sighed as she sat on the desk next to Tim. “Tensions are running high right now, for all of us.” She said softly, “But that was still out of line. I'll talk to him.”

Tim waved her off. “Don't bother Ange. He was right. This is all because of me.”

Without waiting for a response, Tim pushed himself up, and crossed the room to the main area where several tables were cluttered with boxes, each filled with the remnants of Caleb’s apartment.

Reaching for the nearest unopened box, Tim pulled it toward him with a rough jerk, and began sifting through its contents.

He was a good third through the box, currently looking over a bank statement when he felt a small tug on the thread connecting him to Lucy. It didn't immediately pull him under like her other projections today, but he closed his eyes and followed it non the less, allowing himself to feel her sadness.

It was pitch black, there was nothing to see, but he could still hear her.

“Tim…. I'm sorry you're having to hear me, that I'm putting you through this.” Lucy said sadly. “He's moved me.. buried me in a barrel underground. I figure it's maybe two miles from the house he was keeping me at. From the position of the sun, I think I was walking south, maybe southeast? I managed to throw my ring.. it's not much, but.. it's something at least.”

Tim blinked, the darkness of Lucy’s world dissolving as he returned to his surroundings. His mind raced, latching onto the one horrifying detail that made his blood run cold—a barrel. That sadistic fuck had buried her in a barrel. The fury that surged through him was like wildfire, but he forced it down. Lucy didn’t need his anger right now. What she needed was his strength. He focused on the sorrow he’d felt from her, how it teetered on the edge of grief but, notably, lacked fear. She wasn’t afraid, and if she could find that strength, then so could he.

He pulled out his phone and pulled up a contact he'd hoped he wouldn't have to call again.

One ring.

Two. Then the call connected.

“Isabel. I need your help.”

- - -

Armstrong called everyone together for a briefing, determined to consolidate their progress in the search for Lucy.

“Alright, where are we?” he asked, the tension in his voice echoing everyone’s anxiety.

Earlier, Tim had relayed Isabel’s grim assessment: Lucy had only hours left before she ran out of air. By their best estimate, they had barely an hour left.

Tim quickly summarized what he'd pieced together. He'd discovered a series of large bank transfers from Caleb’s account, which he tracked to a few remote properties. Cross-referencing them with the location where Lucy’s phone last pinged, he narrowed it down to a single spot.

Armstrong pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled sharply. “It’s a long shot, but it’s the best lead we’ve got. Suit up. We’re moving out.”

As the team headed toward the door, Armstrong stepped in front of Tim, blocking his path. “Not you, Bradford. I’m sorry, but your part ends here.”

“The hell it does,” Tim shot back, eyes blazing with barely restrained fury. “My soulmate is buried alive, fighting for her life. I’m going.”

Armstrong’s expression hardened. “Her projections are getting more frequent, and that’s a liability. We have no idea what we’re walking into. If she reaches out to you again, you’ll be compromised.”

Tim’s jaw tightened as he struggled to stay calm. “Then I’ll stay out of the way. Let the others do the heavy lifting. But I’m not sitting this out. I’m going to find her.”

Without waiting for a response, Tim shouldered past Armstrong to join the rest.

- - -

The airship whirred above, slicing through the wind as it carried Armstrong, Angela, Tim, Grey, and Jackson toward a remote farmhouse in Kern County.

As soon as the airship touched down, they hit the ground running. Angela took point, her eyes locked on the farmhouse door. Without hesitation, she drove her boot into it, splintering the wood as she bellowed, “LAPD!”

The door flew open, revealing a shabby, dimly lit interior. Caleb sat at a rickety table in the center of the room, a half-empty glass of whiskey in his hand. For a moment, surprise flickered across his face, but it quickly melted into a smug grin. His movements were deliberate, taunting, as he slowly raised his hands and clasped them behind his head.

“Well, well,” he drawled, his eyes locking onto Tim’s with a mocking glint. “Looks like the Unchosen was right. Someone did come looking for her.” His smirk deepened as he leaned back in his chair, as if daring them to take him down.

Grey’s voice was low and commanding as he stepped forward, “Where is she?”

But Caleb just tilted his head, feigning innocence. “What’s the rush? The fun’s just getting started.”

Tim’s heart pounded so hard it felt like it might burst from his chest. The rage that had been simmering beneath the surface since Lucy’s first projection erupted in a blinding wave. Every instinct told him to lash out, and this time, he didn’t hold back. Before anyone could react, he surged forward, closing the distance in a heartbeat. He grabbed Caleb by the collar, his other hand clamping down on the back of his head, forcing him backward until the chair teetered on two legs, inches from toppling over.

“You low-life scum,” Tim growled, his voice trembling with barely contained fury. His grip tightened, fingers digging into Caleb’s skin. “I am responsible for a life—a good, pure life that you’ve put in jeopardy. If you want even a chance of walking out of here alive, you’re going to tell me where she is. Now!”

Caleb didn’t flinch. Instead, his lips curled into a slow, taunting smirk, his eyes dancing with sick amusement. The defiance in his gaze only fueled Tim’s anger, but something else caught his attention—a quick flicker of Caleb’s eyes toward the table.

Following the glance, Tim’s eyes landed on a small screen, a tablet resting carelessly among the clutter. His breath hitched as he saw what was displayed: live footage of a dark, confined space. The dim light barely illuminated the cramped interior of a metal barrel, but it was enough for Tim to see Lucy’s face.

“She’s right there,” Caleb whispered, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

Tim’s grip tightened on Caleb’s shirt until his knuckles turned white. For a moment, the room seemed to fall away—there was only Lucy, buried somewhere beneath dirt and darkness, and the man who held the key to saving her life.

“Where?” Tim spat through gritted teeth, his voice laced with desperation. “Where is she?”

Angela and Armstrong moved in quickly, grabbing Tim by the arms to pull him back, fearing he might snap completely. “Bradford, we can’t afford to lose control here!” Angela warned, though her eyes betrayed the worry that mirrored Tim’s.

Caleb laughed softly, seemingly entertained by the chaos he was causing. “You’re wasting time,” he taunted. “She’s already running out of air.”

Tim released Caleb with a shove, watching him crumple to the floor without a second thought. The only thing that mattered was Lucy. Her voice echoed in his head, “I think I was walking south… two miles maybe…” He didn’t need more. Heart pounding in his chest, he spun on his heel and took off at a sprint, barely hearing Angela’s shout as he left everyone behind.

The world blurred as his boots pounded against the dry earth. He mentally mapped the terrain, counting every stride, every breath, trying to gauge the distance. Two miles. Two miles.

Behind him, the sound of a gunshot cracked through the air, followed by shouted orders. For a fleeting moment, Tim’s instincts screamed at him to turn back, but he shoved the thought away. Someone else could handle that.

But he stumbled, feeling Lucy's sadness creep up on him once again. “No. No not now, I'm so close!” But he couldn't stop Lucy's projection from coming through.

- - -

Alone in the suffocating darkness, Lucy refused to succumb to fear. She stubbornly clung to the hope that Tim would find her, or at least alert someone who would. She would be found, eventually, that she knew. But as time dragged on, the darkness and isolation began to feed her worst insecurities back to her. This situation was preventable. If she had been more mindful of her ability to project when she was younger her soulmate wouldn't have abandoned her. She, and she alone, was the reason Tim didn't want her. She did this to herself.

Lucy gritted her teeth and pulled with every ounce of strength she had left. Her wrists screamed in pain as she strained against her bindings. With a desperate final yank, she felt her belt loops tear, snapping loose.

Wrapping her arms tightly around herself for what little comfort she could muster, she focused everything inward, and tried to push through one last projection to Tim.

“Tim… I think I’m running out of time…” Lucy’s voice was barely a whisper, quivering with fatigue and the tears she could no longer hold back. Her breath hitched as the air in the barrel thinned, making each inhale more of a struggle.

"I don’t even know if you’re coming… but I have to ask… if I am ever found, please don’t let Jackson see me. He’s my only friend, my only family… the one person who’s always believed in me. I want him to keep that image of me, not… not what I’ll look like after this” Her voice cracked, a quiet sob escaping her lips. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to cling to some last bit of strength as the darkness pressed in around her.

“I told you I didn’t believe in soulmates. Maybe, at one point, I didn’t. I thought I was a good person, and good people don’t get denied a soulmate, right?” She let out a bitter, shaky laugh, her chest aching with the effort. “I tried so hard to hate you for leaving me alone… to tell myself that I didn’t need you. I even learned how to hide from you…”

Her breathing grew more laboured, each breath shallower than the last. Panic clawed at her as the walls seemed to close in tighter.

“I’m so sorry…” she whispered, her voice laced with regret. “For whatever I did, whatever you saw in me that made you not want me. I’ve never known what it was, but I’m sorry. This… this feels like my penance. Maybe I deserved it, after all.”

Her tears flowed freely now, soaking her cheeks, but she didn’t bother wiping them away. She felt cold, and so very small.

“But you’re free now, Tim… you don’t have to carry the weight of me anymore.”

And with that, she let the last of her tears fall, surrendering to the darkness.

- - -

The pain in her words clawed at him, and he ran harder, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he recovered from the projection.

As he came over a small hill, he scanned the landscape ahead, eyes darting over every patch of disturbed dirt. Sweat trickled down his temple, stinging his eyes, but he didn’t dare stop. South. Two miles. It had to be here. It had to be.

Then he spotted it. A small sparkle in the weeds, barely noticeable, but there. Her ring. The one she said she had thrown as a marker. He desperately kicked the ground trying to find her location, his boot hitting metal. His heart lurched in his chest.

He'd found her.

Chapter Text

The steady beep of the monitor was the first sound Lucy heard. Her eyes twitched beneath heavy lids, her body sluggish and weighted. Pain radiated through her chest and side, sharp and insistent.

She instinctively tried to stretch, her muscles stiff and screaming in protest at the mere thought of movement. A soft groan escaped her lips.

“Hey, hey. Lucy, don't try to move too much.” The familiar voice was gentle, soothing, and close. She recognized it instantly as Jackson. “Just take it slow, I’m here.”
 
She heard the creak of a stool as Jackson rolled over to her. She felt his hand, steady and careful, as he stroked her hair with a tenderness that brought a lump to her throat. His thumb brushed her temple in small, calming circles and he made low soothing sounds as she took her time waking up. 

Slowly, painstakingly, she forced her eyes open, blinking against the brightness of the hospital. She slowly looked around the room, taking in her surroundings, until finally her eyes met Jackson's. The corners of his lips quirked up in a soft, reassuring smile, but his eyes glistened with the tears he was holding back.

Her lip trembled as she fought against the wave of relief crashing over her. “Y-you found me? Someone came for me? I’m alive?” Her voice cracked, disbelief and raw vulnerability bleeding into every word.

Jackson’s expression softened further, his thumb wiping away a tear that slipped free down her cheek. “Of course, we found you, Lucy. We were never going to stop looking. You’re safe now. You’re here. You’re alive.”

He gently explained to her that she was successful in projecting to Tim. How she'd managed to help him find exactly where she was. 

“You did so good Lucy, so good. I'm so proud of you.” 

Lucy let out a shaky sigh, swallowing hard against the lump in her throat. “I really thought that was it for me, Jackson.” Her voice trembled as she looked down at her lap. “I didn’t think anyone would find me alive. I just didn’t want to be left out there forever, forgotten.” She toyed gently with the corner of the blanket layed over her. It was her favourite, Jackson must have brought it from home for her.

She hesitated, her voice barely a whisper. “I’m done in the program now, aren’t I? He’s going to wash me out now that he knows who I am?”

Jackson's heart broke to hear her fear, but was quick to reassure her, not letting her spiral. He gently turned her head toward him, making sure he had her full eye contact before firmly saying “No. No way. It’s not going to come to that. I won't let it. And if he even thinks about trying, we’ll bring in my dad. You've come too far, Lucy, and I won't let anyone take it from you.”

Her eyes filled with tears as she nodded, and reached for his hand, gripping it tightly. 

Jackson squeezed her hand back, offering a small, comforting smile. “For what it’s worth, though, Luce… I don’t think he’ll try. He was panicked when he realized you’re his soulmate. He was desperate to save you.”

She shook her head in disbelief, her voice cracking. “N-no. He hates me, why would he want to save me. He…” She trailed off as a sob tore through her chest.

“Oh Lucy… Come here” murmured Jackson, pulling her into a hug, and letting her cry against him. “You kept him boxed didn't you.. while you were down there.”

Lucy nodded, her voice muffled against his shoulder as she confessed. “I didn't want to feel how little he cared.” 

“I cared.” 

Startled, Lucy pushed herself away from Jackson, wiping furiously at the tear tracks on her cheeks. Her heart leapt into her throat as she turned to see Tim standing there, just inside the doorway. He was rocking slightly on the balls of his feet, hands shoved deep into his pockets, his eyes dark and unreadable. He looked ragged, worn down in a way she’d never seen before.

“O-officer Bradford,” she stammered, trying desperately to rein in her emotions, her voice shaky as she scrambled to reassemble the emotionless mask she always wore around him.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

He took a hesitant step closer, his gaze never leaving hers. “You don’t have to apologize, Lucy. Not to me, not after everything you’ve been through.” His voice was rough, edged with something she couldn’t quite name. Regret? Guilt? “Can we talk?”

Lucy turned to Jackson, who gave her a reassuring nod, squeezing her hand gently. “I won't go far. I’ll be right outside the door,” he promised. Standing, he leaned down to press a soft kiss to the side of her head before shooting a stern, warning look at Tim as he walked out.
 
Tim stepped further into the room, stopping at the foot of her bed. He shifted awkwardly, his usual confidence faltering. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” Lucy replied, though her eyes stayed fixed on the blanket she was fidgeting with, twisting the fabric between her fingers.

He rocked slightly on his heels, nodding carefully. “Good, that's uh, that's good.” For a moment he stood awkwardly. He seemed ready to leave, turning slightly toward the door, but stopped, exhaling heavily. 

“Look,” he began, and Lucy didn't need to feel his guilt, she could see it clearly written on his face, hear it in his voice. “I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now. I just… I need you to know that no one deserved what he did to you. Not you, not anyone. It doesn’t matter what they’ve done in life, no one deserves that kind of fate.” He swallowed thickly. “But more importantly, none of this was your fault. Nothing you have ever done led to this. You didn’t deserve any of it.”

“The things you said in your projections…” He paused, his expression pained as he tilted his head, and Lucy lifted her eyes to meet his for the first time, and saw a sadness that made her chest tighten. “I’m sorry for the title you now bear.”

He gave a small, almost defeated nod, then turned to leave. “I’ll let you rest. I just wanted you to know.”

Lucy bit her lip as she watched him leave. She hadn't expected such tenderness from him, not after the last time they spoke. It didn't erase what she'd been through, but it was something. It helped, just a little, to know he understood that he played a role in what happened. 

Tim nodded to Jackson, signaling he was finished talking with Lucy, and walked back to the waiting room. When he reached Angela, he stopped and rubbed a weary hand down his face, and around the back of his neck.

“Hey, listen,” he began, his voice rough with fatigue. “I’m gonna need you to take Kojo for a couple of days.”

Angela raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “What? Why?”  

Tim jerked a thumb over his shoulder, gesturing toward Lucy’s room. “I’m going to stay here. Just in case anything happens or she needs something.”

Angela’s expression softened, but concern flickered in her eyes. “Tim… what would happen? Caleb’s dead. There’s no threat to her safety anymore. And Jackson’s here if she needs anything.”

Tim clenched his jaw, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I don’t know, okay? I just… I can’t go home.” His voice cracked, barely audible as he added, “I as good as put her in that barrel. The least I can do is be here so she’s not alone.”

Angela stepped closer, searching his eyes for the man she knew was buried beneath all that guilt. 

“Tim, making yourself uncomfortable for a couple of days isn’t going to undo the hurt she’s feeling or erase the trauma of what she went through. The doctors said they’re keeping her under mild sedation to help her mind process everything. She won’t even know you’re here.”

Tim’s hands curled into fists at his sides. “I need to be here, Ange,” he insisted. “I can’t fix what she went through, but I can make sure she doesn’t wake up alone. I owe her that much.”

She sighed, placing a hand on his arm.  “Fine, I’ll take Kojo. But, Tim… don’t stay here out of guilt. Stay because you want to help her heal. There’s a difference.”

He gave a stiff nod and headed back to Lucy's room. He spotted a vacant armchair on his way and dragged it closer, setting himself up outside her door. The worn cushion groaned under his weight as he sat down, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, hands clasped tightly together.

Lucy was in the hospital for three long days, and for every one of them, Tim hardly left his self-appointed post outside her room. The armchair he’d dragged over had become a makeshift bed, his jacket crumpled into a pillow when he attempted brief, restless naps. The only times he left were when necessity demanded it, quick trips to the bathroom, a run to the vending machines for a stale snack, or a hurried visit home for a shower whenever Jackson arrived to visit Lucy.

Jackson, for his part, remained silent about Tim’s vigil. The first time he noticed him was at the end of that first day. As he left Lucy’s room, he caught sight of Tim slumped in the armchair, eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep but still glued to the door. Jackson’s gaze narrowed in suspicion, but he kept walking.

The next morning, the pattern repeated itself. Tim was still there, looking like he hadn’t moved an inch overnight. Jackson had been prepared to say something, to question Tim about what exactly he thought he was doing, but when their eyes met, he simply let it go, the words dying on his tongue.

By the third day, Jackson no longer bothered to acknowledge Tim, and focused on being there for Lucy.

He probably should have gone back home, or back to work, but he couldn't bring himself to leave her. Angela had been right, nothing of note had happened, at least not to Lucy. But to Tim, he felt as though that invisible thread connecting Lucy to him was fading. All of the sadness, desperation and fear he'd felt from her was dimming into nothing. Strangely, though he'd unknowingly lived for years without feeling her, he'd already become accustomed to it, and he found himself missing that piece of her.

Tim left the hospital a few hours before Lucy was officially discharged, making sure he wasn’t around when she was wheeled out to go home. He’d done it deliberately, he didn't want her to feel pressured to talk to him. To Lucy, it would be as if he’d never been there at all.

- - -

The darkness was suffocating, a void so thick it swallowed every trace of light except for a single pinprick of green above him. His breath came in short, frantic bursts, every inhale tightening the bonds on his wrists. Cold metal dug into his shoulders, and his heart pounded in his ears, drowning out any rational thought. He was trapped. Oh God, he was trapped! He could feel death pressing in from all sides, his mind screaming for someone, anyone, to help him.

Tim jolted awake, gasping for breath. His body was drenched in a cold sweat, muscles tensed as if they were still fighting to escape. He frantically scanned his bedroom, trying to reorient himself. It took several deep breaths before he could calm his racing heart.

This was the fifth night in a row. The same nightmare, the same fear. The first time it happened, he’d brushed it off as a fluke—a byproduct of the stress and exhaustion weighing on him. But the second time, he’d figured it out. It wasn’t his fear he was feeling. It was hers. Lucy was projecting in her sleep.

He reached for his phone on the nightstand, the screen glowing with the time, 4:37 a.m. He sighed, knowing there was no point trying to sleep again. Instead, he opened his messages and typed a quick text, even though he knew exactly how it would go: sent, delivered, and left on read.

Tim: Lucy, are you okay? 

He'd texted her each time the nightmares woke him. He never got a response, but it was the only way he knew how to reach out.

Resigned, he got out of bed, rubbing a hand down his face before padding into the living room. Kojo greeted him with a lazy tail wag, and Tim let him out into the yard, watching as the dog stretched and sniffed around in the cool pre-dawn air.

With a heavy sigh, Tim dropped to the floor and began his daily pushups. His muscles burned with each press, but he welcomed the distraction. As he moved through the set, he closed his eyes and focused on the bond, pushing a wave of calm towards Lucy. He didn’t know if it would reach her, but it was the only thing he could offer.

- - -

Tim and Angela stood tensely in Sergeant Grey's office. Lucy stood in plain clothes between them, her back straight and her hands clasped tightly in back of her. Jackson sat quietly just outside the door, moral support for Lucy, Tim suspected. 

He'd seen her face when she walked in. Despite her outward composure, the shadows under her eyes were clear proof of the fatigue Tim knew she must be fighting due to the nightmares. 

Sergeant Grey leaned forward, folding his hands on the desk as he addressed them. “We’re here to discuss Officer Chen’s return to active duty and what that will look like, given the circumstances.”

Tim’s eyes flicked briefly to Lucy, but her gaze remained fixed forward, determined to stay professional. Angela stole a glance at Tim, gauging his reaction, then returned her focus to Grey, bracing herself.

Grey’s tone was firm but not unkind. “Given revelations after recent events, I believe it would be in everyone's best interest if Officer Lopez took over your training for the time being, Officer Chen.”

Tim noticed Lucy's posture stiffen, and saw a quick flash of hurt cross her face before she nodded, and said “Yes sir.”

He knew this decision was for the best, hell, he’d even suggested it himself. But that didn’t make it any easier to navigate.

Grey leaned back slightly, his gaze moving between them as he continued. “This is an unprecedented situation, the department has never had soulmates work so closely together before, we're all navigating this for the first time together. Now IA is of course aware of the nature of the relationship, but they will want to conduct an investigation nonetheless.”

Lucy didn’t hesitate to offer a defense. "Sir, I assure you, Officer Bradford was never made aware of who I was while he was my TO, and I never attempted to use my knowledge in a way that would jeopardize his role as a training officer. I've spent years practicing techniques to shield my emotions from him, and box his within myself. The bond was never at risk of interfering with our duties.”

Tim’s brow furrowed, and he couldn’t help but blurt out, "Those kinds of techniques are typically reserved for high-ranking military personnel. They’re not something civilians usually know.”

Lucy turned her head slightly towards him and shrugged. “It was a means of survival.”

She didn’t need to reach out through their bond to feel the waves of guilt pouring off him. She could see it in the way he visibly paled, and the way the muscle in his jaw twitched. 

Sergeant Grey raised an eyebrow, but chose not to comment on the exchange between his two officers, instead continuing from the previous topic. “Be that as it may officer Chen, IA does what it wants, I have no control. But let me be clear, my concern in this switch is not just for officer Bradford, I have your best interests in mind as well.”

Lucy quickly nodded, lowering her gaze in respect. "Yes, sir. I apologize if it came across otherwise, sir.”

Grey nodded, “Good, now, is there anything else before I let you all go?”

The room fell into a brief silence, and Lucy hesitated before speaking up once more. “Sir, is it safe? What I mean is… I assume my status was revealed during my abduction. I wouldn't blame anyone if they felt uncomfortable being around me, or questioned having my back if it came to it, given… given what I am, Sir.”

Angela growled under her breath, agitated at the thought of Lucy's safety being in question. “I'd like to see anyone try to turn their back on you.”

Grey raised a hand, cutting off any further comments. “What you are, Officer Chen, is one of the finest officers this department has seen come out of the academy in years. You show a lot of talent and promise, and I have no doubt you will succeed in whatever path you choose. And if anyone tries to say differently, they'll have to answer to me.”

Tim noticed a subtle shift in Lucy’s posture, tension he didn't know she held, releasing from her shoulders as her hands now came to a more relaxed position at her sides.

Sergeant Grey must have noticed as well, because his stern expression softened. “For what it's worth,” he continued reassuringly, “that information was strictly need-to-know. No one outside of this room, and Detective Armstrong needed to know. You'll be safe, Officer Chen.”

Lucy nodded in acknowledgement, murmuring a quiet “thank you, Sir.”

For a moment, only the sound of their collective breathing filling the room. Then, Grey’s gaze swept over them all one last time before signaling the end of the meeting. “Dismissed.”

Lucy moved quickly, brushing past Tim as she left  Grey's office.

As the door opened Jackson jumped to his feet. He glanced behind him to see Tim's face, noting the anxiety washed across his face. Without missing a beat, Jackson followed Lucy, muttering a quiet “I've got her” over his shoulder.

Tim stood frozen for a moment, watching as Jackson gently wrapped an arm around Lucy’s shoulders, guiding her toward the main entrance.

It had been over a week since he had pulled Lucy from that barrel. A week of her recurring nightmares bleeding into his own. Now, learning that she had felt the need to practise intense military techniques just to shield herself from him? That she feared for her safety even among those she worked with? He hated it, hated that his actions had driven her to that point. All he had ever wanted was to protect her, but it was clear that he had failed spectacularly. He couldn’t let things stay this way, he had to explain. 

So he went after her. 

He spotted her across the parking lot, Jackson giving her a hug as he whispered something to her. They parted ways, Jackson heading toward the food trucks while Lucy walked slowly to her car, her shoulders tense. Tim didn’t hesitate, he jogged after her, calling out. “Lucy! Hold on a sec.”

She paused, her hand on the car door, fingers gripping the handle, clearly debating whether to open it or stay. After a moment, she turned to face him, her eyes wary.

He came to a stop in front of her. “Thanks. Listen, the things you said in there, the things you said while you were…. When you projected to me. You really learned to hide yourself from me?” 

Lucy gave a small shrug, her fingers absently tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. Her expression remained carefully blank, the same mask she always wore around him. "Like I said, I did what I had to do," she replied quietly, her tone almost devoid of emotion.

Tim felt a pang in his chest, her words cutting deeper than he expected. "Can I ask… how long have you known? You said my name when you projected, so I assume it’s been a while…”

She cast her eyes to the ground, another slight shrug of her shoulders as if the weight of the truth meant nothing. "A while.”

The casualness of her answer, the way she said it as if it didn't matter, made something snap inside him. He had his Sunshine right in front of him, finally… and she was still so far away. "Lucy, please… I saved your life, I—”

"Please stop calling me that," she cut him off, her voice suddenly sharp, a flash of pain flickering across her face before the mask returned.

Tim froze, bewildered, his thoughts scrambling. "Wha—I…" He trailed off, utterly lost, not understanding where he had gone so wrong.

In the six months Lucy had known him, Tim had never once called her by her first name. It was always "Boot" or "Officer Chen"—never "Lucy." Hearing him use it now, like he had some newfound right, sent a jolt of irritation through her. And to say that he saved her life, as if it were a card to be played in this moment between them? He had another thing coming.

Lucy's eyes narrowed, and with a sharp flick of her mind, she sent a wave of irritation down the tether that connected them, laced with just enough anger to make her point clear. She saw the effect immediately—the way his body tensed, the slight flinch, and the momentary closing of his eyes.

When she spoke, her voice was low and dangerous. Tim instinctively took a small step back, an instinctive reaction to the intensity suddenly radiating from her.

“Let's get one thing straight, Officer Bradford.” The emphasis on the title, the way she spat it at him, was not lost on him. “I appreciate that you found me, and even more so that you found me alive. But I do not owe you anything. If you thought saving my life would make me feel indebted to you, make me want to fall at your feet and kiss the very ground you walk on, then let me correct you of that right now—you should have let me die.”

Her words sent him reeling. "No, that's not what I meant, please, I just—”

“We're not friends, Officer Bradford.” Lucy said, her voice cold and distant. “You don't know me. I'm just a rookie—your subordinate. That's all.”

Tim shook his head, refusing to accept the wall she was trying to build between them. “No, no, we're more than that. You don't have to hide from me. I meant it when I said I cared.”

She bit her lip, slowly reeling the emotional storm back in. She nodded slowly, her eyes distant. “Yeah, I'm sure you did. But… look, I'm tired, and… I’ll probably be gone in a couple weeks anyway, so… please don't feel obligated to—”

Alarmed, Tim cut her off. “Gone? What do you mean?”

“I know the man you are. You don't say things you don't mean,” Lucy said, her voice steady but with an undertone of sadness. “So, I'm sure you did mean it, when you said you cared, but.. you also meant it when you said the only reason I was here was because I made you look good.”

“No, that’s not true, please,” Tim insisted, his voice cracking as he shook his head. “I didn’t mean it like that, I shouldn't have said that.”

Lucy held up a hand. “Just let me finish,” she said wearily. “You're tough, but you were right. I did omit something from my report, and I failed a basic test. If you saw that I'm not cut out for this, then Officer Lopez will too. It's only a matter of time before I'm washed out of the program.”

She turned back to her car, opening the door and stepping one leg inside before pausing. Looking over her shoulder, her expression softened. “I’m sorry for disturbing your sleep. I’ll try harder to manage it so I don’t bother you anymore.”

- - -

Lucy lay curled up in bed, staring at the sunlight shining through her open window, enjoying the fresh scent of the cool breeze. Just a few days ago, she had thought she’d never experience these simple, beautiful things again.

She replayed her conversation with Tim over and over in her mind—or what little she could call a conversation. He was trying, she knew that, and maybe she shouldn't have lashed out at him the way she did. But the anger… Well the anger wasn’t really at him. It was at herself. 

She had been reckless. Reckless in trusting a man she hadn't done a thorough background check on. Reckless in using that same man as an emotional outlet because she had spent so much time and energy hiding herself from Tim. And worst of all, she had allowed that man to get close enough to her that he was able to dig into her past.

Lucy squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the overwhelming guilt as she thought about Dr. Burnette. Kind, caring, innocent, Dr Burnette. He had dedicated his life to helping others, no matter who they were or where they came from. The world needed people like him—selfless and pure. And now he was gone because of her.

“Breathe, Lucy. Just breathe.” She heard his voice so clearly in her mind, as clear as if he were sitting in front of her. Even after so many years, his words still brought her back from the edge. He had been the only one to help her master her emotions. 

She took a shaky breath. In. “Focus on what’s around you. What do you smell? What do you physically feel?” Out. “Let it go.”

Another breath. In. “Find your strongest emotion.” Out. “Calm the storm.”

She needed him, now more than ever, to help her through the guilt and anger she felt. 

But this time, no amount of breathing exercises could ease the guilt or dull the anger. She needed him now, more than ever, to help her navigate through being the reason he was gone.

She sent a small pulse of guilt and sorrow through their tether, hoping Tim would understand it as the closest thing to an apology she could offer.

- - -

In the week that followed Lucy had figured out that she could manage the nightmares by taking frequent naps during the day. As long as sunlight streamed in through her open window and she lay sprawled out like a starfish on the bed, the terror seemed to stay at bay.  

Nighttime was still a different story. But at least the daytime naps allowed her to stay up later, pushing the inevitable nightmares further away. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but it was something. The absence of late-night texts from Tim was reassuring. Hopefully she had finally stopped waking him.

Jackson had checked in every day, offering to keep her company, but each time Lucy declined. He was her biggest supporter, always there when she needed him, but no one—not even Jackson—could fully understand what she’d been through. There were some things words couldn’t capture, and Lucy figured it was better to face the aftermath alone, without having to pretend for anyone else’s sake.

Today was the day she was supposed to return to work. Her first day back, and officially, she would be partnered with Angela— Officer Lopez, she reminded herself sternly. 

Angela had been an incredible friend, but the knowledge that she was still Tim's closest friend complicated things. Lucy had meant what she said—she wouldn’t force Angela to choose between them. And she hoped that Officer Lopez would be willing to keep work and personal separated.

She had seriously considered dropping out of the program altogether, wondering if it would just be easier to walk away.

Returning to the job meant facing the abduction head on. It meant having to navigate the complicated relationships that now existed. Part of her wondered if she was really ready to jump back into it all. If she could even handle the badge, the uniform, the trust that came with it. She had meant it when she said she didn’t want anyone to question having her back. But now she wasn’t sure she even had her own back.

- - -

Today was Lucy's first day back, and Tim found himself awake far earlier than usual, nerves gnawing at him. He decided to do something small, thoughtful, that would let her know he truly did care. A peace offering. Something to make her smile, and bring back her sunshine. 

He left his house early, driving to a little bakery close by. It was one of those local spots he rarely visited, but he had noticed the muffins there a few times and thought Lucy might like them. He ordered a blueberry muffin—he vaguely remembered her ordering one a couple of times during a break—and then went to grab her coffee. He had no clue what to order at first, staring at the menu until he saw something fancy enough: some kind of sugary latte, loaded with caramel—he'd already forgotten what it was called. Just before the barista started making it, he recalled her preference for oat milk and made the last-minute change. He left the shop balancing the coffee and muffin, hoping he’d gotten it right.

By the time he arrived at the station, his nerves were in full swing. He changed into his uniform quickly, then found himself outside of roll call, pacing a little. He had considered waiting near the locker rooms, but then realized how intimidating that might come across—catching her off guard in a place where she wouldn’t expect to see him. No, this was better. A more neutral zone, less pressure. She wouldn’t feel cornered.

When he finally spotted Lucy, his heart clenched painfully. She looked a little better than when he’d last seen her—maybe slightly less exhausted—but there was a weight about her that hadn’t been there before. Her shoulders hunched, and she kept her eyes to the floor, as if she were trying to make herself invisible. 

He waited until she got closer, uncertain of how to approach her. "Uh, Officer Chen," he started, clearing his throat awkwardly. He had planned to say something reassuring, something that would ease the tension, but the words got stuck somewhere between his head and his mouth. So, instead, he simply held out the coffee and muffin in both hands. “Um… Have a good day,” he said, his voice stumbling over the words.

But Lucy didn’t respond how he’d hoped. She took a cautious step back, her hand moving instinctively to her side. Her eyes darted between him and the cup he was holding, suspicion flickering across her face.

“Officer Bradford, you’re not my TO anymore. Are the Tim Tests still necessary, sir?” Her voice was low, controlled, but the edge in it stung more than if she had yelled. Her eyes dropped to the coffee in his hand, a faint wrinkle of doubt forming in her brow. “What did you do to it?” she asked, gesturing toward the cup. “Something to make me sick in the middle of the shift? Or maybe something to make me fall asleep?”

Tim's stomach dropped. “No, no, Lu—" He caught himself and quickly corrected. "I wouldn’t do that. I swear. I just wanted you to start your day off right.”

He held the coffee and muffin out again, more earnestly this time. “Really, it’s just coffee. I… I remembered you liked oat milk. And the muffin—it’s blueberry.”

Lucy hesitated, biting her lip, her eyes darting nervously as she took another step back. “I—I’m sorry. It’s just… that’s how he… um…” She faltered, her voice barely above a whisper, too shaky to finish the thought. Shame flickered across her face, and she shook her head, avoiding his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Without another word, she turned and quickly walked to her seat at the front of the room, leaving Tim standing there, his heart sinking lower with each passing second. 

He stared after her, his peace offering feeling like a cruel joke now. His hands still gripped the cup and muffin tightly, the warmth of them mocking him. He swallowed the bitter lump forming in his throat, and walked over to a nearby trashcan, dumping both the coffee and the muffin inside.

So much for that, he thought bitterly.

With his head hung low, Tim trudged into roll call, taking his usual spot beside Angela, letting out a frustrated sigh.

Angela, who’d been watching the exchange from a distance, turned to him with a curious frown. “What was that about?”

Tim growled in response, his voice rough with irritation and self-loathing. “Nothing. I don't want to talk about it.”

Angela gave him a sideways glance but decided to let it go for now. She shifted her focus, her eyes landing on Lucy. Something was off.

“Hey, Boot,” Angela called out, her voice loud enough to catch Lucy's attention. “What’s with the long sleeves?”

Lucy turned around, a bit startled. “Oh, um, Officer Bradford said no short sleeves if I scored less than a 91 on my exam. I figured you'd have the same rule.”

Angela raised an eyebrow. “I do.” 

“Right. I didn’t want to assume otherwise,” Lucy said quickly, her eyes darting to the floor.

“Boot. After roll call change into short sleeves.” 

Lucy blinked, confusion clouding her expression. Her eyes flickered to Tim briefly. He had been so certain she hadn’t done well, there was no way she got higher than expected. “Wait, what? I thought…”

Angela gave her a reassuring smile. “Lucy, you got a 94. You earned your short sleeves.” 

Lucy’s eyes widened, a swirl of emotions crossing her face—relief, disbelief, and just a flicker of pride. She nodded, almost to herself, and turned back around.

- - -

Angela kept her hands firmly on the wheel, glancing occasionally at Lucy out of the corner of her eye. Lucy was busy with the dispatch calls, typing away at the computer, her focus entirely on the tasks in front of her. Angela had deliberately let Lucy handle the logistics today, partly to gauge where she was in her training but mostly to let her ease into the new routine.

Tim had of course told her that Lucy tended to be quiet, and distant. Never saying much in the run of a day. But she'd chalked that up to Lucy knowing about the soulmate bond and trying to protect it. Now it seemed he may have been right. She wasn't sure how to feel about it. 

The Lucy she'd ridden with previously was sure of herself, strong, energetic. That Lucy was fun, bopping along to the radio between calls, dragging her out for spontaneous karaoke nights after shifts.  

The woman sitting next to her now was different. Distant, withdrawn, just as Tim had said. Every move she made felt measured, like she was always on high alert. Her fingers never stopped fidgeting when they weren’t typing, and her eyes, while they hadn't quite sparkled before, now looked… haunted. Even the smallest sounds seemed to make her flinch.

As they pulled up to a red light, Angela finally broke the silence, her voice gentle. “You doing alright over there, Chen?”

Lucy’s head snapped up, and for a brief moment, her eyes met Angela’s. She nodded quickly, forcing a tight smile. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

Angela didn’t buy it for a second, but she didn’t push. She just nodded and returned her focus to the road as the light turned green.

- - -

The next morning, Tim found himself with another opportunity to extend a peace offering to Lucy—though he hadn't planned it. It was purely a coincidence, a chance moment of being in the right place at the right time.

He was waiting for the elevator in the dimly lit parking garage, hands in his pockets, still mulling over their last awkward interaction. He knew Lucy was hurting, and more than anything, he just wanted to help, show her that she could trust him. But the way she had recoiled when he'd tried to offer her the coffee and muffin… maybe he'd come too strong out of the gate.

The ding of the elevator door opening pulled him from his thoughts, and just as he was about to step inside, he heard the sharp slam of a car door behind him. Peering over his shoulder, he spotted Lucy walking toward the station, her head down, bag slung over her shoulder.

On instinct, Tim quickly reached out, holding the elevator doors open and calling over, “Here, I'll hold the doors.”

It wasn’t much, just a small gesture, one he hoped she might accept after yesterday’s misstep.

But instead of heading toward him, Lucy paused briefly, glancing at the elevator and then veering away. Her pace quickened as she made a beeline for the stairwell, mumbling, “Thanks, but I'll take the stairs.”

Tim's hand slowly lowered from the elevator door as he watched her go, his heart sinking.

- - -

The next morning, Tim stood in line for his war bags, moving through the motions like any other day, though his mind was elsewhere, as it has been all week—focused on Lucy. He had just grabbed his body cam off the shelf when he sensed her presence behind him. Without turning, he reached for hers and silently passed it over, their fingers brushing for the briefest of moments as she took it.

It was subtle, barely noticeable, but Lucy didn't flinch or pull back. That slight, fleeting contact sparked something in him, a small, irrational thrill that he quickly buried. He wouldn’t allow himself to read into it. But still, it felt like a tiny victory. One he’d keep to himself.

When Jerry handed him his war bag, Tim leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice so only Jerry could hear. “Hey, Jerry, do me a favor,” he whispered. “Make sure Officer Chen’s bags always have an extra chest plate, alright?”

Jerry didn't bat an eye. He glanced down the line toward Lucy and nodded. “You got it, Bradford. Consider it done.”

Satisfied, Tim straightened up and slung his bag over his shoulder, heading toward the exit. “There,” he thought to himself. “If I can’t be by her side, at least I can make sure she’s extra protected.” It wasn’t much, but it was something. A small way to watch over her from a distance, to take care of her even if she didn’t want him close.

- - -

The last day of this set of shifts passed by normal as possible. Lucy entered roll call, deliberately avoiding his gaze, her focus trained on anything but him. She stood in front of him in line for war bags, silent, distant, as if he didn’t exist. Tim had grown used to it, but it still stung more than he cared to admit.

Throughout the shift, he found himself listening for her voice on the radio, as always. It had become a habit, one he couldn’t shake. Not being with her had sparked anxiety in him that constantly kept him on edge. Just hearing her voice, knowing she was okay, was enough to steady his nerves, if only for a moment.

He was sitting at his usual table during lunch, staring at a plate of tacos. The mess of feelings swirling inside him made it hard to focus on anything, let alone food. He took a bite, chewing absently, when suddenly, a crackle on the radio caught his attention.

“07-Adam-07 to dispatch.” It was Angela’s voice. “Officer trapped behind a steel door. Status unknown. Unable to make entry. Send LAFD for evac immediately.”

The words barely registered before a wave of anxiety rushed through Tim, his heart slamming against his ribcage. It wasn’t just panic—it was deeper, primal. He felt it surge up from within him, gripping him tight, twisting every nerve in his body. Lucy.

He blinked, and his mind was suddenly flooded with fragmented images that weren’t his own. He saw a dimly lit room, a spray-painted smiley face leering at him. Dusty shelves cluttered with forgotten items strewn haphazardly. Lucy's trembling hands were clenched into tight fists against her legs. She was trapped, terrified.

Then, as quickly as the projection overtook him, he was back sitting by the food trucks. His breath came in shallow bursts, and for a split second, he couldn’t move. But then instinct kicked in. Without thinking, he broke into a sprint, his body moving faster than his mind could process. He had to get to her. Now.

His hand flew to his radio as he tore across the lot toward his shop. "07-Adam-07, go to channel 4." He clicked over to the private channel and barked into the radio, the words spilling out in a frantic rush. "Angela, what the hell happened? She's panicking. Where are you? I'm coming. Now.”

Tim arrived on scene, his heart pounding in his chest, before LAFD. Of course he did. Typical. A sneer curled his lip as he stormed inside the building, his mind already running through the worst-case scenarios. He spotted Angela standing near the blocked-off entry.

He didn't slow down as he reached her. "What the fuck happened, Lopez?" He was pissed, and he didn't care if she knew it. "It's your job to protect her!”

Angela’s eyes flared with anger as she whipped around to face him. "Hey!" she shot back, her voice rising. "This is not my fault! We followed protocol. It was supposed to be a routine check for squatters.”

"Routine check?" Tim barked, his fists clenched. "She's trapped behind a fucking steel door, Angela!”

"I know!" Angela’s jaw tightened as she stepped closer, her eyes burning into his. "We split up like we always do. I went one way, she went the other. That's standard procedure, Bradford! She's nearing the end of her training, so don't act like I sent her in blind. This wasn’t supposed to happen. So back off!”

But Tim couldn’t back off—not when it was Lucy. He could still feel her panic like it was his own, running wild through his veins.

His voice dropped lower, rougher, as he looked toward the door. "Where is she?”

Angela’s face softened for a brief moment as she stepped aside, gesturing toward the heavy steel door in front of them. "In there. I tried opening it, but it’s jammed. I’ve been trying to talk her through it, but she's not responding. I don’t think she can hear me.”

Tim’s jaw clenched, every muscle in his body taut. He locked eyes with Angela. "I'm getting her out of there.”

Angela nodded once, "I know, we just need LAFD to get here—”

"I’m not waiting for them," Tim snapped, leaving no room for argument. "Not when she's like this.”

He braced one arm against the wall, his other hand gripping the cold steel handle with a white-knuckled grip. He flexed his arm and pulled as hard as he could. Nothing. He felt another pulse of panic from Lucy, and something primal, almost feral unleashed within him. This time there was nothing in the world stopping him from getting to her. He braced his foot against the wall, leaning his entire body weight into it. His muscles strained, his jaw clenched tight as he pulled with both hands, harder this time, fingers digging into the handle. A deep, guttural roar tore from his throat as he wrenched back with everything he had.

Behind him, Angela stood back, arms crossed but eyes wide as she watched in stunned silence. She'd seen him angry before, quite recently in fact, but If she didn’t know any better, she'd say she was witnessing a wild animal protecting its young. And then, half-amused despite the situation, a thought popped into her head. What’s the opposite of a Mama Bear? She almost smirked to herself, Daddy Cop. Tim Bradford just went full Daddy Cop trying to get to Lucy.

She shook her head slightly, marvelling at how deep Tim’s protective instinct now ran when it came to Lucy.

She breathed a sigh of relief when the door finally gave out, and watched as Tim rushed inside. 

Lucy was huddled in the corner, her eyes were squeezed shut, sweat glistened on her forehead, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to regain control of her breathing. 

Tim didn’t hesitate. He dropped to his knees in front of her, and pulled her into his arms, cradling her gently against his chest. His hands shook slightly as they wrapped around her small frame, but his voice remained steady as he murmured softly into her ear, “I’ve got you. You’re safe. I found you, Lucy. You’re safe now.”

He rocked them back and forth, his chin resting on the top of her head as he held her tightly. Tim repeated the same words as soothing as he could. “You're safe. I've got you.” Lucy’s breath hitched, but slowly, with each passing second in Tim’s arms, her frantic gasps began to even out. 

When Lucy finally gathered herself, her eyes fluttering open, she scrambled away from Tim as quickly as she could, her mind racing to rein in the flood of emotions that had just spilled out. 

“I’m sorry,” she stammered, brushing her hair behind her ear as she forced her voice to remain steady. “Um, thank you… for coming.”

Tim blinked, momentarily stunned by the sudden change. He had been ready to keep holding her, to assure her that it was okay.. He wanted to say something, but the words stuck in his throat.

Lucy turned quickly to Angela, her face tightening with forced composure. “I’m sorry for what happened,” she said, more controlled now. “He caught me off guard. It won’t happen again.”

“Chen, it's okay, it happens to all of us. Are you ok? We can get EMTs to check you out.” Angela reached to point out a small cut on Lucy's temple.

But Lucy shook her head quickly. “No. No, I’m fine. Just… bruised ego, I think.” The last thing she wanted was more attention drawn to her, especially not for something she felt she should’ve been able to handle. “We should go,” she added briskly.

She turned back to Tim, her eyes barely meeting his. “Thanks again,” she said softly, her voice almost too quiet, like she was speaking more out of obligation than sincerity. “For getting me out.”

As Lucy walked ahead with Angela, Tim lingered behind for a moment, his hands balling into fists at his sides. He hated seeing her like this—so determined to bottle everything up.

- - - 

Sergeant Grey sat back in his chair, his eyes shifting between the two officers in front of him as their argument escalated. Tim and Angela were going at it with the kind of intensity he rarely saw from them, especially toward each other. He rubbed his temple, trying to keep a lid on his own irritation as they bickered like children in his office.

“She wasn’t ready!” Tim yelled, arms splayed wide, his frustration barely contained.

Angela scoffed, arms crossed, standing her ground. “That’s not for you to decide, Tim! It’s not even for me to decide!”

Tim leaned forward, his fists clenched at his sides. “It’s only been three weeks since she was abducted, Angela! Three. Weeks. You shouldn’t have left her alone out there!”

Angela stepped toward him, eyes blazing. “I’m not going to baby her!” She fired back. “That’s not what she needs, and you know it.”

“Then don’t,” Tim snarled, his face flushed with anger, “but you could at least protect her! You know she’s not herself right now!”

Angela’s patience snapped. “That’s not my job, Tim! My job is to teach her how to handle situations on her own. I’m not going to coddle her because you can’t let go!”

Grey watched as Tim’s expression twisted with fury. His voice dropped low, dangerous. “Oh, well, in that case, well fucking done, Lopez,” he spat sarcastically. “Really. Excellent work teaching her how to get trapped behind a steel door and panic. Bravo.”

Angela’s jaw tightened, her anger flaring. “You’re acting like you’re the only one who cares about her, Tim! You think I don’t feel responsible for what happened? I’m doing my job the way I’m supposed to, but you’re too blinded by your guilt to see that!”

Tim opened his mouth to retort, but Grey had had enough.

“That’s enough!” His voice boomed, silencing both of them in an instant. He stood from his desk, eyes narrowed in frustration. “This is not how we handle things in this department. You’re both officers, and I expect you to act like it.”

He paused to allow them to calm down before continuing. “This little display of yours ends now. You want to argue like children, take it outside. And, Bradford,” Grey’s eyes locked onto Tim’s with a stern glare, “if I wasn’t certain before about separating you from Chen, I sure as hell am now.”

Tim bristled at the comment, the anger rising up again. Grey noticed and stepped closer, drawing himself to his full height. “That stunt you pulled today will not happen again. You hear me? Officer Chen was not in immediate danger. She was, for all intents and purposes, safe.”

Tim's temper flared again “A panic attack doesn't constitute safe!” 

Grey held up a hand. “Don't interrupt me again, son. You do not get to undermine your colleague, you do not get to question her teachings… Lopez is right. Her job is not to coddle, need I remind you who currently has had the most rookies pass through the program.” Grey’s eyes flicked to Angela, who stood silently, arms crossed.

Tim’s jaw tightened, but he gave a short nod, though his eyes were still burning with anger.

Grey exhaled sharply, clearly fed up with the entire situation. “We’re all on the same side here, so start acting like it. This isn’t going to help Lucy, and it sure as hell isn’t helping either of you.” He paused, his voice softening slightly. “Chen’s strong, but she’s going to need time to get back to where she was. You need to give her that space, while still being there when she needs it. And Lopez, from now on I want regular updates on her progress.” 

Angela nodded. “Understood, Sergeant.”

“Good.” Grey looked between them one last time, as if daring them to keep up the fight, then waved his hand dismissively. “Now change out and go home.”

- - -

Smack. Smack. Smack.

Each punch landed with a heavy thud against the punching bag. Lucy’s fists ached beneath the wraps, but she didn’t care. Anger fueled her movements. Anger and shame.

She shouldn’t have let that guy sneak up on her.

Left. Right. Right.

Her fists flew faster, the bag jolting violently with each hit. She wasn’t just mad, she was furious with herself. She’d been trained better than that. She should’ve been more alert, more aware of her surroundings.

Right. Duck. Left.

Sweat dripped down her brow, her breath coming out in sharp bursts. She should’ve held her ground. Should’ve reacted quicker.

Right. Left. Right.

Her muscles screamed in protest, but she barely registered the pain. She knew better. And yet she had frozen, let fear creep in, let the past slip through the cracks and weaken her.

Left. Left. Right 

“You need to drop your right shoulder.” Came a voice behind her. 

Lucy was so absorbed in her routine, she didn't take the time to register who had spoken, she just knew she wouldn't let anyone sneak up on her ever again. 

She planted her right foot, pivoted sharply, and swung her left leg in a high arc. 

Before her brain even caught up with her actions, Tim had already stepped back, his reflexes kicking in as he managed to catch her foot mid-air, gripping her ankle firmly.

"Whoa!" His voice was breathless, though a small smirk tugged at his lips. “Hey, at least your roundhouse is good.”

Lucy's eyes widened when she realized who she'd tried to take down. “I-I'm sorry, you startled me.” 

Tim shook his head. “No it's okay. It's good that that was your reaction.” 

She quickly pulled her leg out of his grasp, her face flushed with embarrassment. Her fingers worked at the wraps around her hands. “I’m, uh, done here anyway,” she muttered, avoiding his eyes. “So if you wanted to work out or something, the room’s all yours.”

Her heart pounded as she ducked her head and moved to skirt around him, desperate to escape him.

But Tim wasn't going to let her get away this time. “Is this how it's going to be from now on?” He asked. “You're just going to avoid me all the time?”

Lucy froze for a moment, her breath catching. She forced herself to keep moving, turning just enough to briefly meet his eyes. “It’s what’s best for both of us,” she murmured.

Tim's eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening as he stepped closer. “Don’t you think I should get a say in that?”

"I—I don't..." She didn’t have an answer. Not really. Tim had taken away her choices so long ago, and walking away now would feel like leveling the playing field. But deep down, in a place she had tried so hard to bury, there was still that small part of her that longed for him. The part that still clung to the idea of her soulmate, the part that wanted to talk it through, to make sense of everything.

But her anger, and her hurt, won out in the end.

“I’m not doing this,” she said firmly. 

Tim didn’t flinch. Instead, he stepped forward, blocking her path, towering above her, forcing her to look up at him. “Yes, you are. We are doing this. Here, and now.” His eyes locked onto hers. “Because I can't, Lucy. I feel you. At night when you have nightmares, today when you were locked in that room, and just now when you were hitting that bag like it was your worst enemy. I. Feel. You. And I can’t ignore it.”

Lucy swallowed hard. They had never been this close before, not even in the confines of their shop, and now, standing with barely any space between them. She couldn't look away. The way he was looking at her, raw, intense, passionate, made the walls she’d painstakingly built around herself threaten to fall.

“Then I’ll work harder to make sure you don’t,” she whispered, her voice trembling, barely holding herself together. “Okay? I’m sorry if I’m bothering you.”

Frustration flickered in his eyes, his hands flexing at his sides, as he ached to hold her, make her understand. “Don’t,” he said roughly. “Don’t do that. That’s not what I said, and you know it.”

“Gah!” Lucy exploded, “Why do you even care?”

His response was immediate, fierce, and undeniable. “Because you’re my soulmate, Lucy!”

Lucy’s heart raced. He said it with such conviction, like it was the only truth in the world for him. And for a moment, a fleeting moment, she wanted to let go and forget the last decade of pain and heartache. She wanted to lean into him and let him wrap her in his arms, where she knew, without question, she’d feel safe. Safer than she’d ever felt.

But she couldn’t. 

Everything she'd been through these last weeks alone, pulled her back. Grounding her. Shaking her head, she banished the intrusive thoughts before they could take hold. “It doesn’t matter, Tim. It doesn’t change anything,” she said.

Tim hesitated for only a second before his fingers slid up her arm, his touch gentle and yet firm as they came to rest on her bicep, sending a shiver through her. “Lucy,” he said softly, “it changes everything.”

“No.” She insisted stubbornly 

“How would you know?” he shot back. “How would you know if you're still keeping me at arm's length? You’ve still got me boxed, Lucy.” His hand slid down to take hers, his other coming to rest against her cheek. “How could you possibly know how I feel if you won’t let me in?”

She leaned into his hand, her cheek resting against the warmth of his hand. She couldn't bring herself to pull away because in truth, all she'd ever wanted was a connection like this. But as she stared into his eyes, a memory, one she didn't even know she possessed, rushed to the forefront of her mind. And she was reminded of a different set of blue eyes.

Her breath hitched, and when she spoke, it was so soft, barely a whisper. “Because… I never thought I would see you come back from your darkest day.” Her voice trembled, but she kept going, her eyes never leaving his. “But I promised to help you smile again, and when you did, it was one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen. From this day forward, Baby, I promise to keep you smiling. Always.”

Lucy watched as the blood drained from Tim’s face. His grip on her face loosened as he took a step back, dropping her hand. “Those are my…”

“Your wedding vows to Isabel.” Lucy’s voice cracked as her eyes filled with tears, spilling over in quiet streams that she made no effort to hide. “That’s why I don’t need to unbox you, Tim. Because the way you felt that day… it was so strong, so pure, that I lived it. I watched the whole thing, through your eyes.”

Chapter Text

“Your wedding vows to Isabel.” Lucy’s voice cracked as her eyes filled with tears, spilling over in quiet streams that she made no effort to hide. “That’s why I don’t need to unbox you, Tim. Because the way you felt that day… it was so strong, so pure, that I lived it. I watched the whole thing, through your eyes.”

Tim fought to stay standing, though his legs threatened to give way beneath him. Every fiber of his being screamed to drop to his knees, to beg her forgiveness, to somehow undo the hurt he’d caused—unknowingly, but deeply.

“Lucy..” he didn't know what to say. He didn't know how to tell her in a way that would make it better.

Lucy sniffed, tears freely spilling down her cheeks, but for once, she didn't try to hide them or push her emotions away. "I had a soulmate once," she began softly. "His name was Timothy... and he was my everything. I used to keep a journal." She let out a shaky breath, forcing a bittersweet smile. "I'd write down everything I felt from him, every little thing. I would sing to help him through his hardest moments, when I knew he was struggling, and I’d dance with pure joy when I felt his happiness. We were connected. In a way I thought was unbreakable.”

Tim's chest ached with her sadness. He felt her pain so deeply that he couldn't stop the tears of his own that had begun to fall. 

Lucy wiped her eyes on her sleeve, and when she looked back up at him her eyes were hardened, cold. 

"Then one day..." Her voice dropped to barely a whisper. "I don’t know when it happened. Maybe it was gradual, maybe it was all at once, but one day... he stopped waiting for me. He decided I wasn't worth waiting for anymore.”

Tim couldn't move, he was frozen in place. His heart pounded in his chest as each of her confessions drove another knife through it.

“Lucy…” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat, trying to steady himself. “You are worth everything to me.”

Her eyes bore into his, and she slowly started to back away from him. “How can I believe that, Tim?” She asked. “You got to live your life. You had a wife, friends.. you had a whole life without me.”

Lucy turned, walking toward the door, but just before she left, she stopped, her hand hovering over the door handle. Her back still to him, she spoke. 

“How am I supposed to believe I mean anything to you now?” she asked softly. “After all these years, you suddenly say I matter. When did you decide that, Tim? When Isabel kicked you out? When you felt a little lonely? Or…” she hesitated, and when she continued, her voice was colder, more distant, “Or did you change your mind out of some sense of duty now that I’m standing right in front of you?”

She turned her head just enough to look at him from the corner of her eye. She left without another word.

- - -

He couldn’t believe how oblivious he’d been. All these years, he’d known, deep down, that something was wrong. He couldn’t feel her the way he was supposed to, the way soulmates were meant to be connected. He’d even pieced together that it meant she was dead inside, but somehow it had never fully clicked. It was as if his mind had refused to confront it, and as the years passed, he grew accustomed to the numbness, the absence that had settled between them. He’d pushed aside the hollow ache, convincing himself that it was just life moving on. 

But seeing her now, so full of pain she refused to fully process—because doing so would mean letting him feel it too—he realized how much she’d been carrying alone. No. That ended now. He couldn’t erase the past, but he could make sure she understood that her feelings were valid, that her pain was real, and that she didn’t have to face it alone anymore. He would make her see that she mattered, not just to him, but to the world she had shut herself off from.

Clearly, unplanned run-ins weren't going to cut it. The anger she held toward him, deservedly so, ran too deep. He needed to allow her the time and space she needed to be in the right state of mind for the conversation he needed to have with her. He spent his days off trying to find the words that would, hopefully, convince her to give him a chance to explain. 

- - -

The next time Lucy opened her locker, a folded note caught her eye, resting neatly on the top shelf. Her name was scrawled across the front in familiar handwriting.

Lucy, 

I'm sorry.

I thought that in discovering our bond we would be able to grow a relationship as beautiful and strong as that of Lopez and Wes. Or Sergeant Grey and Luna. 

But I didn't know how much hurt and pain you hold inside, and I'm sorry that I didn't. I have made you feel small, powerless. My actions have forced you to learn techniques that have done more harm than good. Hiding your emotions, boxing mine away, may have helped you survive up ‘til now, but I have seen first hand the damage that it can do long term. I have watched good men and women lose themselves over time. I saw the beginnings of it on your first day, and I dismissed it. And I will never forgive myself for that. Never again Lucy will I dismiss you.

Lucy when you're ready. If you're ever ready. I would like us to have a real conversation. One that I can try to explain my actions. It may be selfish of me, but it's something that I should have found a way to do years ago. I need you to know that it had nothing to do with you, and everything to do with me.

I've changed to the night shift. I don't want you to come to work afraid of seeing me. You deserve to feel safe amongst your colleagues. Safe from me. If the night shifts aren't enough, I will put in for a transfer. You've suffered enough at my hands. 

Please, feel everything you need to feel. Let it out. Process. I will take it all, and help you through it, the same way you helped me all those years ago. 

And Lucy. 

That tattoo on your side is not your day of death. It is the day you defied the odds. The day you said “screw you” to the world, and saved yourself. You are a survivor, despite everything that has been thrown at you. That tattoo Lucy, is your Day of Defiance. In a way.. I see it as my Day of Discovery too. Because Lucy I found you . I will always find you. My Soulmate. 

When you're ready, I'll be waiting. 

Tim

Taped to the bottom of the note was her ring, the one she had thrown as a beacon. She hadn't expected to see it again.

She ran her thumb over the smooth stone, a small smile tugging at her lips. He'd kept it. 

And he'd changed shifts for her. Not out of pity, but for her , to give her space, to let her heal. It was a gesture she hadn't expected, the whole note was really, especially given the way she'd spoken to him in the gym.

“Chen! Roll call in five!” Someone’s voice cut through her thoughts, snapping her back to the present.

Right. Work. She quickly shoved the ring and note back into her locker, and hurried to change into her uniform. There would be time to process later.

- - -

That night, Lucy sat cross-legged in bed, the dim glow of her bedside lamp casting shadows across the room. Tim’s note rested in her lap, creases now showing from how many times she’d unfolded and refolded it since coming home. She’d probably read it a dozen times, to the point where she was sure she had memorized every word.

Her thumb absently grazed her bottom lip as she gnawed on it, her eyes scanning his words again.

He seemed so sincere. The way he acknowledged her pain, it wasn’t something she was used to. Not from him, not from anyone. But could she really do what he was asking? Could she let herself feel everything she’d bottled up, all the anger, all the grief she’d shoved so deep inside?

She looked down at her hand where the ring he had returned was still faintly imprinted on her palm. He had kept it, a piece of her that she thought had been lost. Did she want to let him back in? Let his emotions flow into her the way they once had?

Lucy let out a shaky breath and leaned back against the headboard, her eyes drifting toward the window where the city lights flickered in the night. She wanted to be angry—she was angry—but there was something else beneath it all.

Loneliness. She closed her eyes, remembering the way he had touched her a few days ago. His hands were rough and calloused from years of duty, yet so impossibly gentle when they brushed her skin.

He would be on shift right now. If she allowed herself even the smallest moment to feel, truly feel, he would know, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for that. 

Taking a deep breath she cautiously lifted the lid within herself that contained his emotions. She closed her eyes and focused, searching for him. 

The first thing she felt from him was boredom. Sure, that made sense, the night shift was rarely exciting, just long hours of sitting. She pushed a little deeper. Contentment. Again, that fit. He was probably driving the streets, his mind quiet as he patrolled.  

But that was just the surface emotions. She took another breath, summoning her courage, and pushed deeper. That’s when she felt it.

Shame. A thick, suffocating shame that twisted in her chest. Loneliness. It mirrored her own in a way that was almost too much for her to bear. And then, anger. Hot and raw, simmering just beneath everything else. She pulled back sharply, her breath catching as her eyes flew open. It was too much, too overwhelming, and she quickly slammed the lid back on his emotions, hiding them away within herself once more. 

She pressed a trembling hand to her chest, trying to calm her racing heart. Tim had probably felt her shock just now, but she wondered if he knew why. Could he feel her poking and prodding through his emotions? Did he know she had discovered his deepest emotions? Would he realize she had finally allowed his emotions in? 

Regardless, the cat was out of the bag now. 

Slowly, very slowly, she released some of the hold she had on her emotions. She exhaled deeply and opened her eyes. Picking up his note, she read through it again, this time allowing herself to feel everything as she read.

Somehow; despite that she had moments ago just shoved Tim back into the box, his words weren't just words anymore; somehow, they were emotions she could sense, seeping into her as she read. Which made her own feelings all the more powerful, even to herself. 

Part of her acknowledged that Tim had asked her to open up to him. But the other part of her felt bad that Tim was likely getting an onslaught of her anger while on shift. Because that was the base of everything she felt right now: anger.

Although with each sentence she read that anger morphed, combining itself with something else.

Disbelief : that he thought they could jump into a fairy tale relationship as if the last ten years hadn't happened.

Resentment : that he had never realized the depth of her pain. That he had lived his life, oblivious to the survival tactics she had to develop just to cope with the bond they shared.

Irritation : that he wanted to offer her the classic “it’s not you, it’s me” explanation as though that would make everything better. As though understanding his reasons would erase her years of hurt.

Appreciation : that he volunteered for the night shift to give her space, even if he could’ve easily kept his routine and forced her to deal with his presence.

Guilt :  that he left the comfort of his friends, the daily excitement of his normal routine, and a healthy sleep pattern—all because of her. Because she couldn’t handle being around him.

Relief : that he was willing to take every emotion she was throwing at him right now. That he had promised to shoulder the burden, just as she had done for him so long ago.

Touched : that he had tried to offer her a deeper meaning to the tattoo that now marred her side. That instead of a mark of her darkest day, he wanted her to see it as a badge of her defiance.

But then, the anger returned. All over again. Because none of this would have been necessary—the survival techniques, the tattoo, the guilt of him changing shifts—none of it would have happened if he hadn’t left her behind in the first place.

She didn't try to fight the tears that welled up and spilled over at that last thought, and allowed them to flow freely as she read his note again and again, freeing herself of all the emotions she'd had pent up. She lost track of how many more times she read the note through, but by the time she was done, she felt utterly spent, emotionally drained.

She wiped her face on her bed sheet, sniffling as she carefully closed herself off to Tim once more. She’d opened herself up enough for one day—more than enough, really. It felt too risky to leave that connection open, too vulnerable. 

Settling herself under the covers, she reached to turn off her lamp, sighing at the feeling of safety as the soft glow of her nightlight clicked on.

Just as she was about to close her eyes, her phone pinged from her nightstand. And then pinged again. 

Her heart skipped a beat as she reached for it, knowing exactly who it was before she even saw the screen.

Tim: Thank you.

Tim: I'm sorry.

She let out a shaky breath and placed her phone back on the nightstand, deciding not to respond. Not yet. 

She knew this was Tim’s way of acknowledging what had just happened. He had felt her—her pain, her release, and everything in between. He was letting her know he was still there, that he had meant every word in his letter.

- - -

Across town, Tim sipped his coffee, his eyes glued to his phone as he watched the messages send, get delivered, and then marked as read. He didn't expect a response, it was just a habit at this point.

He hadn't expected to feel Lucy, especially not so soon after writing to her. He'd been so surprised to feel her he'd nearly driven into a curb. After he'd chided himself for acting a fool, he allowed himself a momentary feeling of relief. Lucy was trusting him with her feelings.

Tim took another sip of his coffee, letting it ground him as he processed. He could have easily called in to dispatch, claiming a 10-6 personal—take a moment to regroup, to breathe—but he didn’t. 

Every other cop worked through their partner’s emotions, it was part of the job. They didn’t get to pick and choose when they’d feel their soulmate. The bad came with the good. So, he did the same. 

He’d welcomed each and every hit of emotions that came at him. Her anger, grief, and disbelief coming through so clear, and so strong. Not enough for a projection, but enough that his back unconsciously stiffened in anticipation of what was coming next. 

He took another slow sip, his eyes scanning the near empty roads. He glanced one last time at his phone. Lucy wasn’t ready to respond yet, and that was okay. He didn’t need her to say anything. He just needed her to feel, to let herself process everything she had buried for so long.

- - -

The next morning Lucy paused as she walked into roll call. At her desk sat a small brown paper bag, neatly folded at the top, with a handwritten note resting on it.

Curious, she picked up the note.

Lucy, 

Thank you for sharing your feelings last night… 

…A perk of the night shift. I'm still up when the bakeries open. These usually sell out by the time the day shift starts.

Tim  

Lucy unfolded the bag and peeked inside. A fresh bear claw sat nestled at the bottom, its puffy edges glistening with sticky glaze that clung to the side of the bag. The sweet scent of apples and cinnamon hit her immediately, and she could practically taste it already. 

Later, during a coffee break, she finally had the chance to indulge. Settling into a chair, she carefully tore off a piece, savouring the sticky sweetness. Just as she brought it to her mouth, Angela appeared, eyeing the pastry with mock indignation.

"Don’t even think about it," Lucy said with a raised brow, already knowing what was coming.

Angela crossed her arms, a grin tugging at her lips. “TO Tax. Hand it over.”

Lucy groaned but tore the bear claw in half, handing over Angela’s portion. “You’re insufferable.”

“Mm-hmm,” Angela replied, already taking a big bite. “And you’re lucky I’m generous enough to only take half.”

Lucy laughed, taking her own bite, and she couldn’t help the little happy dance that came with it, swaying side to side in her seat.

She closed her eyes, focusing on that brief flicker of joy and letting herself push just a hint of it in Tim’s direction. She hoped he was asleep, blissfully unaware, but a small part of her wanted him to feel it—to know that his gesture had done something good, even in the midst of everything else.

Angela raised an eyebrow at her. “What’s with the smile?”

Lucy froze, another piece of her treat halfway to her mouth. Caught, she shrugged, glancing down at her half of the bear claw. “Just... it’s nice, you know? Little things like this.”

Angela nodded, though a knowing glint flickered in her eyes. “Yeah, sometimes it’s the little things that mean the most.”

- - -

“So ah, how long are you going to keep with the treats?” 

Tim and Angela lay sprawled on lounge chairs in his backyard, as they watched Kojo sprint in circles, chasing an imaginary target, his energy seemingly endless. Tim turned his head lazily toward Angela and rolled his eyes, but a small smirk tugged at his lips.

“Okay, tell me you haven't been eating everything I've been getting for Lucy.” he shot back, though he knew her so well he was not at all surprised. 

Angela didn’t look at him, instead fixing her gaze on Kojo’s antics with a smirk of her own. She let out a scoff. “Please, it’s my right as her TO.” She paused, lifting a hand to examine her nails, feigning indifference. “Except for the other day. You got her that cranberry orange muffin. You know I can’t stand cranberries.”

Tim snorted, shifting in his chair. “Ah, so there are limits to your shameless mooching. Noted.”

“Hey,” she said, turning to face him now, a playful glint in her eyes. “You’re lucky I don’t claim more as TO tax. I’ve been pretty generous if you ask me.”

“Generous?” Tim raised an eyebrow. “Or just picky?”

She grinned, completely unbothered by the accusation. “Potato, potahto. But really, can you figure out a different way to make her cave? My pants are starting to get tight.” She complained, tugging at the waistband of her jeans. 

Tim chuckled, but soon shrugged, his expression turned more thoughtful. “It’s not about her caving. I just... I want her to know I’m here. Even if she’s not ready to talk yet.”

Angela shifted slightly in her chair, “She knows,” she reassured him. “Trust me. I thought I’d seen her happy before, like whenever we used to go out for karaoke. But that first day you brought her something? She was dancing in her chair, Tim. She tried to play it cool, but she was excited. And ever since then… I think she actually looks forward to it.”

Tim’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. He hadn’t expected that. “Really?”

She nodded, “Yeah. I haven't asked, but… I don't think she's ever had someone do little things like that for her before.”

The guilt of that possible truth, of Lucy never experiencing such simple, everyday acts of care, settled heavily in his chest. Sitting up a bit straighter, he whistled for Kojo, who happily trotted over, ball in mouth. Tim took it, using the moment to compose himself as he threw the ball across the yard, starting a game of fetch.

“Ange,” he started, his voice a little rougher than before, “she deserves so much more than a baked good every morning.”

Angela leaned back in her chair, watching him carefully. “Of course she does. But you’ve got to start somewhere, right?”

Tim threw the ball again, watching as Kojo bounded after it with enthusiasm. “I just don't know how to show her without pushing her boundaries.”

Angela stood up, crossing over to where he sat. She placed a firm hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “You'll figure it out, just keep taking it slow.” 

She reached for her jacket, and pulled it on, glancing down at him. “You look tired Tim, try to get some rest.”

Tim ran a hand down his face. “Yeah, just as soon  as Kojo is worn out. Thanks for stopping by Ange.”

As Angela walked toward the gate, she called over her shoulder with a grin, “Hey can you bring another one of those bear claws next time?”

Tim huffed a smile, “Yeah, you got it.”

- - -

The next day marked Tim's last before starting another set of night shifts. Over the past few weeks, he had gained a newfound respect for the night shift crew. It wasn’t just about staying awake—it was a delicate dance of trying to enjoy daylight during his days off and making sure he got enough sleep to survive the long nights ahead. The transition wasn’t easy, and even on his days off, he felt the lingering pull of exhaustion.

Really he felt bad for Kojo, who didn’t seem to mind the absence during the night—thankfully, he was good at settling down without him—but as soon as Tim got home, Kojo expected the usual attention. The problem was, all Tim wanted to do was collapse into bed and sleep for a few hours.

So, he tried to make up for it. On his days off, he’d take Kojo out for longer walks, throw the ball a little more, and give him extra belly rubs. But Tim couldn’t help but feel like he was constantly playing catch-up. Not just with Kojo but in every aspect of his life lately he thought bitterly as he approached what would be his fourth week buying Lucy pastries.

Today’s "treat" for Kojo was an extra long hike along a nearby trail, one of their favourites.

"Common Buddy," Tim called, his voice softening as he spotted the rest stop just ahead. "We'll take a break, and I’ll get you some water. Sound good?"

Kojo's tail wagged enthusiastically, his only response, as he trotted ahead, obediently, leading the way like he always did.

He slowed his brisk pace to a steady walk, shrugging his backpack off one shoulder and unzipping it, rummaging around inside until his hand found the cool metal of a water bottle.

What Tim hadn’t expected was to see the very person occupying his thoughts lounging on a rock up ahead. Lucy, relaxed and unaware of his approach, was dressed simply in yoga pants and a flowy T-shirt, her hair pulled into a ponytail that swayed gently behind her as she leaned back on her arms, face tilted up toward the sun.

The sunlight kissed her skin, highlighting her natural beauty in a way that made his breath catch. She looked so effortlessly stunning, and Tim mentally kicked himself—again—for not realizing it sooner.

As he neared, Tim scuffed his feet against the dirt to avoid startling her. “It’s a nice day for a walk,” he said, his voice casual, though his heart was anything but.

Lucy glanced over at him, not moving at first, but then her face lit up as soon as she noticed his tag along. "Kojo!" she exclaimed, laughing as the dog bounded over to her, leash trailing behind him. She knelt down, running her hands through Kojo’s fur as he eagerly licked her face.

Normally, Tim would be quick to scold Kojo for slipping his leash, but right now, he couldn't bring himself to care. Lucy was happy—genuinely happy—and she wasn’t hiding it from him. Her laughter rang out, and he closed his eyes for a moment, letting her joy wash over him. 

When he opened his eyes, he found himself smiling. It wasn't forced or bittersweet, but real, just like her joy. Kojo nudged his nose against Lucy’s arm, clearly thrilled to have her attention, and Tim stayed quiet for a moment, just soaking it all in.

Slowly, Tim watched as Lucy’s joy faded, her expression shifting back into the familiar mask of indifference. It was almost painful to witness the brightness slip away, leaving her face unreadable once more.

“Sorry, I’ll let you get back to your walk,” she murmured, her head dipping as she brushed off her pants. She gave Kojo one last affectionate belly rub before standing up, her shoulders tense.

“You don’t have to do that,” Tim blurted out before he could stop himself. “I mean... I didn’t know you walked this trail.” He paused, feeling a pang of frustration as he noticed how guarded she still was around him. “So, you stay, and we’ll go.”

He forced himself to turn, his voice softer as he tapped his leg for Kojo to follow. "Common, Bud.”

Kojo hesitated for a second, tail wagging as if torn between staying with Lucy and obeying Tim. He gave Lucy one last nudge with his nose before reluctantly trotting back toward Tim.

"It's a free country," Lucy called after him. When Tim turned, she shrugged casually. "There's plenty of room for both of us."

Tim hesitated, searching her face for any hint of reluctance. "You sure? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable."

Lucy gave him a small nod, her eyes softer than before. "I'm sure.”

"Okay." He couldn’t help the grin that tugged at his lips as he walked back toward her. Moving to a small clearing, he busied himself by setting out a bowl and filling it with water from his thermos for Kojo.

Tim sat on the ground, leaning back against a tree, his wrists draped loosely over his knees as he watched Kojo drink.

Lucy, perched back on her rock, glanced between Tim and Kojo. As much as she had been enjoying it earlier, now, the silence bothered her. She decided to break the tension. "Thank you for the treats.”

Tim looked up, surprised and a little caught off guard that she had addressed him. "You're welcome," he replied, his voice almost too casual, trying not to let on how much it meant that she acknowledged it.

Silence settled between them again, thick and awkward. Tim tapped his hands together, a restless energy building inside him. He blew out a breath, figuring he might as well say something before they were both suffocated by the quiet.

"So, uh..." He scratched the back of his neck, glancing toward Lucy. "Do you, uh... come here often?”

The second the words left his mouth, Tim inwardly groaned. Really Tim? He could practically hear himself cringing. What are we, teenagers? He rolled his eyes and scuffed his toe in the dirt, half expecting Lucy to laugh at him.

Instead, Lucy blinked at him, the corners of her mouth twitching like she might actually be trying to hold back a smile. "Did you just use a bad pickup line on me, Bradford?"

Tim shook his head, still embarrassed. "Apparently, I did. Let’s just pretend that didn’t happen."

Lucy let out a soft laugh, surprising both of them. "Too late. It happened," she teased, the tension between them loosening just a little. She tilted her head, her gaze drifting toward the trail before flicking back to him. "But yeah, I come here sometimes. Found this trail after I moved back from New York. It helps clear my mind…"

Her voice softened, her eyes focusing on something distant, as if the weight of her thoughts hung just beneath the surface. "And now... I guess it just reminds me that I'm still here, that I'm alive." There was a vulnerability in her words that made Tim’s chest tighten, though he stayed quiet, giving her space to continue if she wanted to.

She hesitated, then added, "I actually brought Kojo up here while I was watching him that time. He loved it." Her voice wavered, and she glanced away, distracted by another hiker passing by with a nod.

"Wow, I almost forgot about that. It seems like so long ago." Tim admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

Lucy gave a small shrug, trying to sound casual. "Yeah, well… you had other things to worry about. Like getting shot.”

Tim chuckled. "Yeah, I guess that kind of took priority." He paused, then asked, "How’s it going with Lopez?”

Lucy smiled faintly. "She hasn't washed me out yet… so I guess that's a good sign.”

Tim shook his head firmly. "She's not going to wash you out. You're a good cop, Lucy."

"Time will tell," she replied, a hint of doubt in her voice.

" I'm telling you," Tim insisted. "And Angela tells me… every day when I ask for updates."

Lucy shot him a curious glance. "If you already knew how I’m doing, why did you even bother asking?”

Tim leaned forward slightly, making eye contact with her. "Because I wanted to hear it from you. Because your opinion matters."

Lucy bit her lip, shaking her head lightly but remaining silent. She shifted, her eyes fixed stubbornly on the ground as she swung her legs, kicking the air.

Tim watched her for a long moment, his brow furrowing in concern. "Do you think that's untrue?" His voice was softer now, almost tentative.

Lucy's foot stilled, just for a second, before resuming its restless swinging. “I want to believe I'm doing well. I really do. But… I'm still the cop who got abducted by a serial killer. That’s what everyone remembers, no matter how much time has passed.”

She let out a bitter laugh, her voice dropping. “So yeah, I'm happy Lopez is giving you positive reports on me, but let’s be real. I doubt it’s because I’ve earned them. More like… she pities me, or she’s afraid of breaking me again.”

Tim stiffened, “That's not true.” He said firmly. “No one’s giving you a free pass, Lucy. You’ve earned those reports.”

Lucy shook her head, a bitter smile playing at her lips. "Are you saying that as my former TO? Or..." she hesitated, her voice faltering before continuing, "or as my soulmate?"

Tim blinked. “Can’t it be both?”

She let out a soft, humourless laugh, her eyes dark with doubt. “Yeah, it could… except my former TO didn’t like me very much, remember? And my soulmate... well, I’m pretty sure he just feels bad for me. You know, since I get to add 'victim' to my resume now.”

“I don’t see you as a victim.” Tim’s voice was steady, firm. “I see you as someone who has been unfairly tested in ways most people can’t even imagine. And you passed those tests. You’re not broken, Lucy. You’re still here. And I don’t feel bad for you. I admire you.”

Her breath hitched, as she finally dragged her eyes to meet his. 

Lucy’s breath hitched, and slowly, she dragged her eyes up to meet his.

Tim leaned forward, his voice soft but just as sure. “I’m not leaving you treats and notes because I feel sorry for you. I’m doing it because you deserve the little things. Because I really do care about you.” He paused, his face shifting into a frown as his eyes searched hers for understanding. “And for the record, your former TO was an asshole. On his best day, he doesn’t even like himself, let alone anyone else. Don’t carry the weight of what he thought about you. He was wrong.”

Lucy blinked, absorbing his words, her lips parting slightly as if to argue, but nothing came out.

Tim shifted uncomfortably, reaching out to pet Kojo who was now happily snoozing in a patch of grass. “And because I never said it before… thank you. For protecting me in your report. It was more than I deserved, especially considering…” he hesitated, searching her face, “…I think I’m right in saying you knew we were soulmates at that point?”

She managed a small nod, her eyes widening just slightly in surprise.

Tim let out a soft exhale. “Yeah,” he said, voice low. “Definitely more than I deserved, then. You could’ve so easily thrown me under the bus. Forced me to get mandated therapy or… I don’t know, get benched for a while. But you didn’t. You showed me grace when I didn’t deserve it.”

Lucy moved off her rock and sat next to Kojo, absentmindedly running her fingers through her fur. “I think… you’re giving me too much credit,” Lucy murmured. “I can't say why I left it out of my report. I mean, it’s true that I have a degree in psychology, and at one point, it was my job to help people with suicidal ideations…” She trailed off, her voice quieter. “I guess… it didn’t seem right to put you through unnecessary consequences.”

Tim tilted his head, studying her. “Can I ask why you gave it up?”

She let out a soft hum. “It was… pointed out to me that, generally, the type of people who seek out therapy are needing help understanding their soulmate… and… since I didn’t have one, how could I relate to my patients?”

Tim's eyes widened in disbelief. “Someone actually said that to you?!” 

Lucy nodded, the memory still painful. “Yeah… I broke up with him right after he said it.”

Tim held up a hand. “Woah, woah, hold on. Your boyfriend said that to you?” He shook his head, clearly trying to make sense of it. “Wait… wait…” He closed his eyes briefly, furrowing his brow in thought. “Chris. That was his name, right?”

Lucy’s brow creased slightly as she tilted her head. “Yeah… how did you..? 

Tim’s face softened as the pieces fell into place. “That was the night I found out I passed the TO exam. One second I was out with my friends celebrating, the next I felt… absolutely livid. Next thing I know you're projecting. That was one of the last times actually.”

Lucy nodded. “That sounds right. I started working with my therapist a week later.”

Tim's eyes narrowed slightly. “The therapist who taught you how to close yourself off and box me out?”

She nodded again. “Yeah, he was…” she swallowed thickly at the memory of Dr Burnett. “He taught me how to survive.” 

Tim studied her for a moment, noting the way her shoulders tensed as she worked to control her emotions. “You know, Lucy, I’m really glad you’re learning how to let your emotions out again. I’m sure it’s not easy after all this time.”

She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “It’s not. It’s exhausting, actually. And terrifying. I’ve spent so long burying things deep inside that letting them out feels like…” she trailed off, searching for the right words.

“Like you’re losing control?” Tim offered quietly.

Lucy’s eyes darted to his, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Yeah. Exactly that. Like. After I've let it all out I have to work so hard to bring it back in when before it was like second nature. It’s messy, and it’s overwhelming.”

Tim nodded slowly, his voice gentle. “But it’s real, Lucy. And it’s you. So… thank you, for trying.”

Lucy shrugged, a faint smile tugging at her lips, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Well, I figure you know who I am now… and it seems like you don’t mind it. So… anyway.” Her voice trailed off.

She pushed herself to her feet, motioning behind her as if to indicate her escape route. “Um… I’m going to head out.”

Kojo let out a soft whine, his tail wagging halfheartedly as he sensed Lucy pulling away. He nudged her leg with his nose, almost as if trying to convince her to stay.

Tim gave a small, understanding nod, but his eyes flicked to Kojo. “He’s gonna miss you if you leave, you know.”

Lucy glanced down at the dog, her hand reaching out instinctively to scratch behind his ears. “He’ll get over it,” she said softly, though the way her fingers lingered in his fur suggested otherwise.

Tim rose to his feet as well, not ready to let the moment slip away just yet. “You don’t have to go, Lucy. You don’t have to run every time things get a little… real.”

She hesitated, her hand still resting on Kojo. “I’m not running. I just… I don’t want to overstay my welcome.” 

Tim shook his head, “That’s not possible. Not with me.” He paused, weighing his next words. “Look, would you consider letting us walk you back down the hill? I mean, if not for me, then… for Kojo?”

At the mention of Kojo, Lucy smiled softly, she was clearly fond of the boy. She glanced down at him, his tail wagging hopefully, and her resistance melted. “Okay... for Kojo,” she agreed, giving the dog a gentle scratch behind the ears.

Tim exhaled, relieved that she hadn't fully retreated into herself. He hastened to pick up Kojo’s bowl, shaking out any leftover water before tucking it and his thermos into his backpack and stooped to grab Kojo's leash, gesturing to the walking trail. “After you.” 

Lucy hesitated for just a moment before taking the lead, and Tim followed a step behind. They walked in silence for a while, the sound of Kojo’s paws on the dirt trail and the occasional rustle of leaves filling the space between them. Kojo pushed the boundaries of his leash to walk closer to her, tail wagging with each step.

Tim kept his eyes on the path, watching her quietly. Then, his thoughts caught up to him, and he spoke, "You’re afraid of me." It wasn’t a question. He’d seen the way she paused before walking ahead of him, and he remembered how she’d refused the coffee he’d brought her, worried he’d tampered with it.

Lucy stiffened, her pace faltering for a split second.

Tim continued, “I won’t hurt you, Lucy. I could never… not intentionally, anyway.”

She stopped, turning toward him slowly, guarded. "I appreciate you saying that, but I need you to understand—it’s going to take time before I believe that... if I ever do.”

She didn’t wait for a reply. Instead, she started walking again, this time beside him, but leaving enough space for Kojo between them.

Tim fell into step with her, keeping the pace slow, careful not to push the conversation too far.

"It's confusing,” Lucy said after a few moments

Tim glanced over at her. "What is?"

"This." She gestured between them. "For years—literally more than a decade—I had to live my life knowing I wasn’t good enough for my soulmate."

Tim started to protest, but Lucy held up a hand, cutting him off before he could say a word.

"And then I met him," she began, her tone detached as she took a deep breath. "Granted, I had an idea going in, so I wasn’t completely caught off guard. But still... he was everything I imagined. Harsh, cold, distant—like nothing I did would ever be enough. So, I tried to be perfect, the model rookie, thinking maybe that would change things. Maybe he’d respect me for it.”

Tim shifted uncomfortably, he knew where this was going.

"But no," Lucy continued, shaking her head. "It only made things worse. Every mistake felt amplified. Every misstep felt like confirmation that I didn’t belong. And then, out of nowhere, things shifted. He started to really teach me. He became someone I could rely on. He was supportive, caring... He made me believe I was finally doing something right.”

Tim’s throat tightened. He wanted to say something, to fix it somehow, but he stayed silent, letting her continue.

"I got comfortable," Lucy said quietly, her voice softening. "I started to believe that maybe... maybe that was who he really was. That all the cruelty and judgement before was just a front. I thought I’d finally proven myself to him."

Her lips twisted into a bitter smile. "And then—wham. Right back to where I started. Harsh, distant, judgmental. I failed all over again.”

Lucy’s voice softened even more, her eyes trained on the ground. "I appreciate your notes, and I appreciate the treats... I do. But I need you to understand... I need time before I can trust that this isn’t just another moment of you being nice, only for it to turn back around.”

Tim cleared his throat. “Would you rather I stop?”

Her head shot up at that, and the quick flash of pain across her face was unmistakable, even though she was fast to mask it. “Giving up on me already?”

“No. Never,” Tim said quickly, the firmness in his voice unwavering. “But I’m starting to understand now that I’ve been… cruel, in ways I didn’t even realize. If you want me to stop—if you want space, or for me to leave you alone—I would understand.”

Lucy opened her mouth to respond, but the words caught in her throat. She pressed her lips together and looked away. “I…” She hesitated, clearly wrestling with herself. The silence stretched between them as she struggled to put her thoughts into words. “I don’t know,” she finally admitted. “I don’t know what I want. I don’t know how to want something with you.”

Tim’s heart ached at her words, but he remained silent, giving her the space she needed.

She took a deep breath, still avoiding his eyes. “For so long, I hated you. And I was just… surviving. Living my life in survival mode, not thinking about a future with anyone, especially not with you.” She bit her lip, her brow furrowed in frustration at herself. “I’m sorry. I’m sure that hurts, but it’s the truth.”

“I’ve never had what you had,” Lucy continued, her voice trembling slightly. “I’ve had a couple dates here and there. A failed year-long relationship that probably should’ve ended sooner. And… a few one-night stands when I was lonely. But you—you had a marriage. A long marriage. You had friends, and people who understood you. And I… I don’t know how I fit into that. I don’t know how to fit into your life right now.. or if I even want to.”

She pulled a couple of leaves off a low hanging branch as they passed by. Clearly frustrated she tore them into pieces before speaking again. 

“I can’t even let you in. I’ve been practicing allowing myself to feel again, here and there. But… there was one night when I tried to let your emotions in too.” She paused, her brow furrowing as she remembered. “It was too much. It was overwhelming. And I haven’t been able to bring myself to do it again.”

Lucy glanced up at him, her frustration barely contained. “If I can’t even do that… Honestly, I don’t understand why you’re bothering with me at all.”

Tim’s shoulders slumped, and he let out a defeated sigh. He opened his mouth, but nothing he could think of felt like the right response. The silence between them grew heavier as they walked, and he could feel her pulling away, but he didn't know how to bridge the gap in that moment.

They continued down the trail, Kojo walking quietly beside them, his usual energy subdued as if he too sensed the unease. Tim kept stealing glances at Lucy, his mind racing, trying to think of something—anything—that might help her understand why he was still there, still trying.

It wasn’t until they neared the clearing of the car park, the end of their walk in sight, that the thought hit him. It was simple, almost too simple. But it was the truth.

“Sunshine,” he said quietly, just loud enough for her to hear.

Lucy blinked, confused. She looked over at him, her brow furrowed. “What?”

Tim slowed his pace, stopping just before they reached the open space of the lot. He turned to face her, his eyes steady and soft. “Sunshine. That’s why.”

She stared at him, still not understanding, but there was something in his tone that made her pause. “What do you mean?”

Tim sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he gathered his thoughts. “The first time you projected to me… I’ll never forget it. I don’t remember where I was or what I was doing at the time, just that I was overcome with such… joy . A happiness I’d never felt before. And then, I was in your projection.”

He paused, searching her face for any sign of recognition, but she remained still, listening intently. “You were standing in a field of dandelions, your arms spread wide like you were trying to hug the whole world. You were twirling—spinning in slow circles—and your face… it was tilted up toward the sun, like you were soaking in every ounce of its warmth. And then, just like that, the projection ended. But the feeling stayed with me. From then on, in my mind… I called you ‘My Sunshine.’”

Lucy’s breath hitched, the image he painted vivid and surreal, like it belonged to another lifetime. Hearing him describe it felt like unlocking a piece of herself that had been long buried.

Tim’s voice softened as he continued. “I know… I know I took that from you. Your sunshine, your joy. And I’ve been carrying that guilt for a long time.” He paused, his gaze steady on her. “One day, I hope you’ll let me explain more… let me make it up to you. But for now, I just want you to have that sunshine back, Lucy.”

Tim watched as Lucy stood frozen in place, her expression unreadable but her eyes darting ever so slightly, as though processing everything he’d just said. With a resigned sigh, he tugged gently on Kojo’s leash and murmured, “Thank you for letting us walk with you.” He turned to head back toward his truck, assuming the moment had passed.

But then her voice cut through the silence. “It was a soccer field.”

Tim stopped in his tracks, whirling around to face her, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Hmm?”

Lucy shifted her weight, her eyes still downcast but her voice steadier now. “The field in my projection… it was a soccer field at my school. During no-mow May. The whole thing was filled with dandelions. It looked like a wildflower meadow, but it… destroyed the turf. We never did it again after that year.” She let out a small, almost self-deprecating laugh. “But yeah… it was a soccer field.”

Tim blinked, surprised by the unexpected detail she offered. A slow smile crept across his face, not because of the memory itself, but because she had shared it with him. He nodded, taking in her words and the small step she had just taken—however fragile it might be. “A soccer field,” he echoed softly.

Lucy took a deep breath, the tension in her shoulders loosening just a bit.

Finally, Tim gave her a small smile. “See you around, Sunshine.”

Lucy blinked, caught off guard by the nickname, but she didn't protest. Instead, she nodded, a soft, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “See you around.”

Chapter Text

“Okay, come on. You're getting a breathalyser and a field sobriety test,” Tim said, his voice flat and no-nonsense as he stood by the driver’s side of the car, his patience wearing thin.

The woman pouted, leaning toward him with a saccharine smile, her eyes batting dramatically. “But Officer… isn't there something I can do to avoid all that?” Her voice dripped with feigned innocence, and she tossed her hair over her shoulder in what she probably thought was a flirtatious move.

Tim’s jaw tightened, and he rolled his eyes, unimpressed. This was far from the first time he’d encountered this kind of act. “Ma'am, it’s the middle of the night, the clubs just closed, and you were swerving all over the road,” he said, his voice firm. “Not to mention I can smell the cheap alcohol radiating off you from here. Out. Now.”

The woman groaned, throwing her hands up as if she were the one being inconvenienced. “Ugh, fine! Geez, you don’t have to be such a grouch about it,” she grumbled as she swung open the door and stepped out of her car, teetering slightly on her high heels. She shot him a glare as if he were personally responsible for ruining her night.

“Mhm,” Tim hummed dryly, rolling his eyes again. He took a step back, watching her wobble unsteadily as she got to her feet.

He unhooked the breathalyser from his belt and prepped it with mechanical efficiency. “Alright, you’re going to blow into this,” he instructed, his voice steady, already knowing how this was going to go. “And make sure you blow steadily until I say stop.”

The woman crossed her arms, rolling her eyes dramatically. “Yeah, yeah, I know how it works,” she muttered under her breath, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She stepped forward, wobbling on her heels and nearly stumbling again. Tim bit back a sigh, watching her catch herself just in time.

The night shift sucked. Officially. He’d lost count of how many stops like this he’d made since the sun had set, and each one chipped away at his patience. But he reminded himself why he was doing it—Lucy.

Maybe he was being a tad more harsh than usual tonight. But it wasn’t entirely his fault—something had been gnawing at him for the last hour or so, a strange feeling he couldn’t shake. He glanced down at the breathalyser, its display confirming what he already knew.

“Congratulations, it’s your lucky night,” Tim said dryly, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in his voice. “You’re getting a free ride to an all-expenses-paid stay in the drunk tank.”

The woman groaned in protest, but Tim didn’t give her room to argue. He took her by the elbow, guiding her toward the patrol car. She huffed and muttered something under her breath, but he tuned it out.

“Wait! Can’t we, like, talk about this?” she whined, pulling half-heartedly against his grip.

Tim opened the door to the back seat and gently but firmly helped her inside. “We’ll have plenty of time to talk once you’re sober,” he said, closing the door with a solid thud. He stepped away, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, feeling the tension knotting between his shoulders.

Tim radioed dispatch for a tow, sending the woman’s car off to the impound lot before starting the drive back to the station. But as the station came into view, a deep sense of unease settled over him. It wasn’t just the exhaustion of the night shift catching up—he knew this feeling by now. It wasn’t his own. It was Lucy’s.

The growing sense of dread, the faint flicker of panic tightening his chest—it was unmistakable. She was having a nightmare, and by the intensity of what he was feeling, this one was bad. Really bad.

As soon as he parked, Tim jumped out of the car, his usual calm persona slipping. He needed to move fast, but keep it together for just a little longer. He flagged down the officer monitoring the cells. “Hey, process her for me, would you? Thanks.”

Without waiting for a response, he tapped the desk and made a beeline for the break room. Each step felt heavier as the fear within him surged. Lucy’s emotions were flooding him, pulling him into her dream inch by inch, and he struggled to keep his composure. By the time he pushed through the door, his breathing was shallow, his heart racing, the terror from her nightmare was already taking hold of him.

Tim gripped the edge of a table, barely managing to steady himself. His knuckles turned white as he fought to stay grounded, but it was no use. The fear was too strong now. Lucy’s panic had reached its peak, and just as he feared, he was pulled fully into her dream.

No matter how many times it happened, it never got easier. The helplessness of it gnawed at him—the knowledge that he could feel her fear, experience it with her, but do nothing to stop it. Nothing to help until she woke up.

The dream took shape around him and his stomach dropped when he recognized the setting. He’d seen it before, in real life, and in her dreams. The cabin. The place where Caleb had held her captive.

Lucy moved cautiously, her eyes darting from shadow to shadow. Tim watched as her hand reached out to push open a door, the creak of it echoing in the nightmare. She stepped through into another room, her breath shallow.

In the center of the room, tied to a chair, was a figure. Tim felt his pulse spike, his protective instinct kicking into overdrive.

The figure came into focus slowly. At first, it was just a silhouette, shrouded in shadow. Then, as Lucy edged closer, the details sharpened. It wasn’t Caleb. It was an older man—late 60s, maybe even 70s. His white hair was thinning, and he wore glasses that sat crooked on his nose. His tweed suit was rumpled and torn.

Lucy froze, staring at the man. Tim felt the confusion ripple through her. This wasn’t part of the memory of her real abduction—this was something else.

The man’s head lifted, and his eyes—wide, filled with terror—locked on Lucy. He was pleading, silently begging for something, but his mouth didn’t move. His lips were parted, trembling, as though words were trapped behind them.

Lucy's heart raced, the dread in her chest tightening like a vise. Her breath came in shallow gasps as her eyes darted to the right, catching movement in the shadows.

A figure loomed there, barely visible at first, cloaked in darkness. Then, as the figure shifted, something glinted in the faint light—a knife. Lucy’s blood ran cold. The figure moved swiftly, charging toward her. She stumbled back, her body frozen in place. Fear anchored her feet to the ground, refusing to let her escape.

The figure stopped just short of her, then shifted course, circling around the old man who still sat trembling in the chair. In one swift motion, the figure grabbed the man by the back of his head, tilting it so Lucy was forced to look directly into his eyes.

The man’s terror escalated, his eyes wide and frantic, pleading with Lucy for a salvation she couldn't give. His breath came in ragged gasps, chest rising and falling with silent sobs as the dark figure pressed the knife closer to his throat. A single bead of blood welled at the tip of the blade, trailing down the man’s neck.

Then, in an instant, two things happened simultaneously. The figure behind the man, who had been cloaked in shadows, stepped into the light, revealing a face that sent a chill down Tim’s spine. His stomach dropped, heart lurching in disbelief.

It was Lucy.

But it wasn’t the Lucy he knew. This version of her was twisted, a dark reflection of the woman he cared for. Her eyes were dull, almost lifeless, like a black void. Yet there was something sharp, sinister glinting in them. A kind of evil that Tim couldn’t reconcile.

The dark Lucy smirked, her lips slowly curling into an expression dripping with sadistic amusement. Her fingers dug into the man's face, tilting his head back even further as if she was playing with her prey. The man’s sobs grew louder, his eyes pleading more urgently.

The dark Lucy stared straight into his Lucy's eyes, and leaned closer to the old man, her voice a venomous whisper. "You killed him.”

And with that, she began to pull the knife slowly across his throat, the blade slicing through skin. A thin line of crimson trailed behind the edge, the man's eyes widening in shock before they dimmed, the life draining out of them.

Tim's heart pounded in his chest, his pulse deafening in his ears. He could only watch in horror as the dark version of Lucy stood over the lifeless man, a twisted smile on her lips.

Just as the horror of it all seemed to swallow him whole, Tim saw the outlines of Lucy's room flicker at the edges of the dream, the oppressive atmosphere of the cabin beginning to break apart like shattering glass. Reality was seeping in. 

Lucy bolted upright in bed with a blood-curdling scream, the sound tearing through the air as if it had come straight from the depths of her soul. Her chest heaved, her body trembling violently, drenched in sweat. She clutched her sheets, her hands shaking uncontrollably as her wide, panicked eyes darted around the room, struggling to pull herself out of the nightmare’s grasp.

Tim blinked, gasping for air as he was jolted back into his own consciousness. He wiped the cold sweat from his brow, still feeling Lucy's fear—and hell, his own too—coursing through him, but there was no time to recover. His instincts took over, and he was on his feet in an instant, sprinting toward his shop. He yanked his phone from his pocket, fingers trembling as he dialed Lucy’s number.

There would be no unanswered texts this time, Lucy needed help.

His heart raced as he jumped into the car, slamming the door shut and gripping the wheel with one hand while holding his phone to his ear with the other. Tires screeched against asphalt as he tore out of the lot, sirens blaring. The sound barely registered, though, drowned out by the echo of Lucy’s panic still screaming through him. And with every second that passed without her picking up, it only got worse. His mind was racing, his own anxiety rising, afraid that at any moment he could be dragged back into her dream if she didn’t wake up fully.

The phone rang, "Pick up, Lucy," he muttered under his breath, his grip on the wheel tightening until his knuckles turned white. No answer.

Gritting his teeth, he ended the call and immediately dialed again, his fingers quickly tapping out a frantic message on the screen at the same time.

Tim: Lucy, answer the phone. Please.

He reached for his radio, his voice steady but strained as he called out to dispatch. “I need to call out a 10-6, personal.”

The phone rang again in his other hand, and finally, on the third ring, she answered, but all he could hear was a muffled cry. A choked, desperate sound—the kind of sob you knew someone was trying to smother with their hand

"Lucy... let me help you," he began softly, desperately trying to calm himself now that she'd answered. "Lucy, let me help you. Please. I need you to let my emotions in. I’m here. I’m with you.”

For a moment, only gasping breaths met his ears. He could feel her struggling to hold on, teetering on the edge of projecting again. Then, finally, her breathing ragged, and uneven, a barely audible reply came through the line. “I-I-I c-can’t," she sobbed, choking on her words.

"Shh, yes you can," he urged, his voice low, trying to calm her with every ounce of his being. "You’re strong, Lucy."

“N-no,” she insisted, gasping for air, her words tumbling out in between shallow breaths. “It’s t-too h-hard... if-if I had just… then you... and then I... he—he wouldn’t be. Oh God.” Her voice broke into a sob. “Oh God, I killed him.”

Tim's chest tightened, the raw pain in her voice nearly knocking the wind out of him. "Lucy, no. Listen to me," he said, his voice shaking now, but firm. "It was a dream, you're okay. You didn't kill anyone, you hear me? I need you to focus on me, okay? Just focus on my voice. I’m here. I’m with you."

Her sobs quieted for a moment, though her breathing was still laboured. He knew she was fighting, but the fear and guilt had their claws deep in her. He could feel it. It was overwhelming her.

“Let me in, Lucy. Let me help you.” He held his breath, waiting, hoping, praying that she would trust him enough to open up, to let his emotions wrap around hers and pull her out of the darkness.

He couldn't explain how, but somehow, between her shuddering sobs, he felt it—Lucy had opened herself to him. Relief washed over him, and he allowed that emotion to flow back to her, hoping she could feel it through their bond.

“Good, good job, Lucy,” he whispered, his voice soft yet steady. “Okay, now we need to regulate your breathing, alright? Let's focus on that.”

A muffled “mhm” came through the line, shaky but there, and it was enough for him to press on.

“Good, that's good,” Tim continued gently. “Now, tell me three things you can touch.”

There was a pause, broken only by her uneven breaths. Finally, her trembling voice came through. “M-my blankets, my ph-phone, a-and m-my pajamas.”

Her voice cracked on the last word, and another sob tore through her, breaking his heart all over again. But she was trying.

“You’re doing great, Lucy. Really great. Now, let’s try to slow your breathing, okay? In and out, nice and steady. Deep breaths. Now… tell me three things you can see.”

He could hear her struggling, feel her fighting to push through the panic, and he sent every ounce of calm he could muster through their connection, hoping she’d feel it on the other side. He took deep, steady breaths himself, silently urging her to match his pace.

“I s-see… my dresser,” she managed between breaths. “M-my mirror… and the stars outside.” Her voice wavered, but there was a little more strength in it now.

“Good,” Tim murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “That’s perfect, Lucy. You’re doing so well. Big, deep breaths, okay? It was just a dream.”

Another shaky breath on her end, followed by a brief silence. His heart raced, but he kept his voice low and calm. “You're okay, Lucy. I promise. You’re going to be okay.”

He cut the sirens as he turned into her neighborhood, slowing to pull into a parking space outside her building. 

“Listen, I’m right outside now,” he said, keeping his voice soft, aware of how fragile she still was. “I’ll stay on the phone with you as long as you need, alright?”

There was a long, shaky exhale from her end. “I’m sorry,” she sniffled, her voice barely a whisper. “You shouldn’t have to take time out of your shift for me.”

Even now, broken and scared, Lucy was trying to take responsibility for something that wasn’t her fault, and it shattered Tim. He’d hurt her so deeply, scarred her so horrifically, that she felt the weight of blame even now, when she was the one who needed help.

“Don’t—don't do that,” Tim said, his tone firmer now but still full of care. “You don’t need to apologize for this, Lucy. Never for this.” He closed his eyes, leaning back against the headrest for a moment, trying to steady himself.

There was a soft sound from her end, and another sniffle. “The man in my dream,” she began, her voice trembling, “that was my therapist. He… Caleb killed him because he helped me. He said that people like me shouldn't be allowed happiness or redemption… so. So he killed him. He's dead because of me.”

He clenched his jaw, his heart breaking at the sobs that followed. “Lucy, I am so sorry.”

“Why?” she cried, her voice cracking with raw pain. “Why wasn’t I enough, Tim? What did I do wrong? Soulmates… they’re supposed to wait for each other. What did I do that made you turn your back on me?”

Her sobs were becoming more frantic, and Tim’s own panic rose in response. He could feel her slipping into hysteria again, and it tore him apart that he was the reason for this. He had done this to her.

“Lucy, no,” he said quickly, trying to cut through her spiraling thoughts. “No, this isn’t your fault. It was never about you. You didn’t do anything wrong, I swear.” 

But Lucy wasn’t having it. He could hear the frustration mixed with the pain in her voice, and it twisted his heart. “Then tell me why you didn't wait, Tim. Make it make sense.” Her words cracked, but her demand was clear. She needed answers, something solid to hold on to.

Tim dragged a shaky hand down his face, feeling the weight of the confession he’d been holding back for too long. “I wanted to avoid this, Lucy,” he said, his voice barely steady. “I thought if I stayed away, I could protect you.” His throat tightened, and he had to force the words out. “God, Lucy, you were so vibrant. My Sunshine, remember? You were always so happy, and I knew—deep down, I knew—that I would ruin you.”

There was a pause, and he could hear her soft breathing, waiting for him to continue. His fingers tightened around the steering wheel as he leaned back, staring blankly at the dashboard, hating himself for what he was about to admit.

“I knew it would always come to this,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “I’d mess it up. That’s what I do, Lucy. I ruin people.” His hand clenched into a fist, pressing against his forehead. “Just look at the way you found out. That was never supposed to happen. I was trying to take myself out of the equation of your life, you were only supposed to find out once we met. Instead… I destroyed your life entirely. In trying to save you from myself, I did the one thing I was trying to avoid.”

Lucy was silent, but her emotions hit him tenfold. Anger. Sadness. Hurt. All of it crashing into him, making it hard to breathe.

“I don't.. I can't even dignify a response to that.” she finally said.

“I don't expect you to either, I just wanted you to know… it wasn't you.” Tim replied.

The silence between them was suffocating, filled only with their shared emotions. Lucy’s anger blazed through their bond, and though Tim tried to remain calm, his own guilt, shame, and self-hatred clawed at him. He could feel himself unraveling.

“I’m going to call Jackson to come stay with you tonight. I’m not good company right now, and I’d understand if you needed space... if you wanted to shut me out again.” He swallowed hard, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. “I’ll wait, though. Until he gets here... in case you need anything.”

It was all he could offer her—his presence, even if he felt utterly unworthy of being there.

The moment he hung up, the silence in the car tried to drown him— his guilt and self-loathing festering in the quiet. His fist slammed down onto the steering wheel in frustration, the loud thud echoing through the vehicle. “Good job, Bradford. Just... DAMMIT!” he bellowed, hitting the wheel again, the anger bubbling over.

He sat there, breathing heavily, trying to force himself to calm down. He pinched the bridge of his nose, “Get it together, asshole,” he muttered to himself, the words grating, harsh. His chest felt tight, his throat constricted, and all he could do was sit there, grappling with the overwhelming shame of what he had put her through.

Taking another deep breath, he pulled out his phone, blinking away the stinging in his eyes as he scrolled to Jackson’s contact. He couldn’t be there for her, not the way she needed right now. But Jackson could. Jackson always could.

Two rings, and a groggy voice answered. “Bradford?”

Tim’s voice came out more strained than he intended, still raw from the emotions coursing through him. “West... Lucy needs you.”

There was a pause on the other end, and Tim could almost hear Jackson coming to full alert. “What happened? Where is she?”

“At her apartment. She had a nightmare, a bad one. I got her through the worst of it, but she needs someone she trusts."

He heard the rustle of clothes, and the jangle of keys. "Yeah, I'm on my way.” Jackson replied, all traces of sleep gone.

Tim ended the call and tossed the phone onto the passenger seat, leaning his head back against the headrest. His jaw was clenched so tightly he could feel the strain, the ache spreading through his temples. He wanted to scream until his throat was raw, to punch the dashboard until his knuckles bled. But all he could do was sit there, simmering in his own frustration. 

It didn’t take long for Jackson to arrive. Tim saw him pull up and watched as Jackson leaped out of his car, taking off at a run toward Lucy’s apartment. Tim’s chest tightened as he watched him disappear inside. At least Lucy had someone who cared that much, someone who could offer her the comfort she deserved.

He reached for his radio, his hand trembling slightly. “Dispatch, this is Bradford. Show me 10-8, available for calls.” His voice was steady, but beneath the surface, he felt like he was barely holding on.

With one last lingering glance toward her apartment he shifted the car into gear and pulled away.

- - -

Jackson didn’t bother knocking; he had an emergency key for a reason after all. Instead, he quietly slipped his key into the lock and let himself in, and softly made his way down the hall. His heart sank when he got to her doorway, he saw her—a small, curled figure under the blankets, her back to the door. Silent tears streaked down her face, glistening in the low light of the room, and her body trembled ever so slightly as she tried to hold herself together.

Jackson’s throat tightened at the sight. He quickly toed off his shoes and climbed into bed behind her, sliding in without a word. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against him in a firm embrace. He pressed his face into her hair, trying to offer her comfort.

“Shh... It’s okay, Luce,” he whispered softly, his voice low and soothing. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Lucy didn’t respond at first, just a slight shudder of breath as she curled tighter into herself, leaning further into his arms. After a long moment, she shook her head, her voice muffled as she buried her face deeper into the pillow. “No... Just... hold me... please.”

Jackson’s heart ached for her, for the pain she was clearly feeling but wouldn’t share. “Okay,” he murmured, his lips brushing the top of her head. “I’m here, Lucy. Just sleep. I’ve got you.”

- - -

The next morning, the shrill beeping of Lucy’s alarm clock pulled them both from a restless sleep. Jackson groaned softly, rolling over to stretch, while Lucy remained still for a moment, staring blankly at the ceiling. Neither of them had slept well, though they’d eventually drifted off. Even with Jackson there, it had taken her a long time to quiet her mind.

They moved in a fog, too tired to speak much. Jackson stood in the kitchen, his back leaning against the counter, arms crossed as they waited for the coffee to finish brewing. He watched Lucy out of the corner of his eye. She was sitting at the kitchen island, absentmindedly picking at a piece of toast. The shadows under her eyes told him she was far from okay.

“Do you want to talk about last night?” he asked gently, his voice breaking the quiet.

Lucy glanced up briefly, her fingers crumbling the edge of the toast. “Not really,” she muttered, avoiding his gaze as her shoulders sagged.

Jackson nodded slowly, trying to respect her need for space. “Okay,” he said quietly. But there was concern etched across his face as he stepped forward and leaned against the counter across from her, folding his arms again. He studied her carefully, trying to measure how much he should press. “But Lucy… look, I’ve barely heard from you since the incident—” he hesitated, unable to name it, unable to attach the deeper trauma he knew it caused—“and I feel like I’ve failed you as a friend. Especially after what happened last night.”

Lucy’s hands stilled, her eyes fixed on the piece of toast she was shredding.

Jackson sighed, his voice softening. “I’m worried about you, Lucy. After shift tonight, I’d really like us to order dinner and just... talk. You can tell me anything, or nothing. But I want to be here for you.”

She looked up at him, her expression unreadable, but there was something raw in her eyes—something fragile. She nodded faintly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Okay… After shift.”

- - -

When Lucy walked into roll call, she immediately noticed something different at her place. No pastry or sweet treat like there usually was—just a simple cup of coffee with a bright yellow sticky note attached. Her heart skipped a beat, her eyes tracing the familiar handwriting.

Lucy,

Figured you might be tired after last night…. It's just coffee… with a lot of sugar added. I promise. 

Tim

Lucy’s breath caught in her throat as she picked up the note, rereading it twice. She bit her lip, trying to stifle the flood of emotions that surged within her. His reassurance that it was "just coffee" made her smile slightly, though the smile was bittersweet. She knew why he’d added that line, why he felt the need to make it clear. This was the first time Tim had brought her coffee since she'd refused his offering weeks ago.

After roll call, Lucy made her way to the shop, carefully placing her coffee in the cupholder. The comforting scent of sugar-laden caffeine filled the car as she slid into the passenger seat. Angela, already in the driver's seat, shot her a pointed look before her eyes landed on the coffee.

“Wha—where's my snack?” Angela demanded with exaggerated indignation.

Lucy rolled her eyes, leaning back against the seat. “It’s coffee today, and they’re supposed to be my treats anyway, Lopez.”

Angela pouted dramatically, her fingers drumming on the steering wheel. “I need them more than you do,” she grumbled under her breath.

Lucy raised an eyebrow, amused. “Don’t you have a boyfriend who can get you snacks?”

Angela groaned, pulling into the street. “Ugh. He’s the reason I need them. Stupid Wesley went and got me knocked up.” She muttered, the corners of her lips twitching in a playful smirk despite her words.

“Congrats.” Lucy said simply. “How does Wesley feel about it?” She asked 

Angela’s face lit up. “I haven't told him yet, I only just found out myself. But he can tell that I'm excited about something, he asked me this morning why I was feeling jittery.” 

Lucy hummed in response, her fingers drumming against her thigh as she stared out the window. “That doesn't… bother you? That he just knows things like that? That you can't hide it from him even if you wanted to?” 

Angela glanced over, a little taken aback by the question but shrugged it off. “No, I mean. I'm just so used to it, I can't imagine what it would be like any other way. Or even wanting to, honestly.”

Lucy smiled weakly, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Right. Must be nice,” she said, her voice laced with a bitterness she didn’t try too hard to conceal. She looked down at her coffee, the warmth of Tim’s gesture already fading in the face of her own thoughts. “I guess some of us have a harder time imagining that.”

Angela winced, catching the sharp edge in Lucy's words. She adjusted her grip on the wheel, glancing briefly at Lucy. “Chen, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I know things between you and Tim are... complicated.”

Lucy let out an undignified snort. “To say the least.” She leaned her head back against the seat, exhaling a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry, Lopez. I didn’t mean to dump my mood on you like that. It’s just...” Her voice trailed off as she held up the coffee cup with a half-hearted shrug. “I had an... interesting night. Hence, this.”

Angela’s eyes flicked to the coffee, then back to the road. She could sense that there was more to Lucy's "interesting night" than she was letting on, but she didn’t push. Instead, she just nodded, her voice softer when she spoke again. “You don’t have to apologize, you know. You’re allowed to have bad days after everything you've been through.”

Lucy nodded, but her mind was already far away, locked in thoughts of the night before and the tangled mess that was Tim. “Sometimes, I just feel like the good ones are too far out of reach.” she admittedly quietly. “What you and Wesley have is really beautiful. It's… what I used to dream of having. I'm happy for you.” 

“Thanks.” Angela glanced over at Lucy one more time. “You know he's trying, right? Tim? That’s what all of this has been. He’s just... trying in his own way.”

Lucy nodded. “Yeah.. I know.” she murmured. 

She did know. That was the frustrating part. She saw it every morning in the small gestures that had become routine. The treats he left at her seat, even the way he knew how she liked her coffee. He was trying, in the only way he knew how—through actions rather than words.

And yet, it was hard to let go of the hurt. They'd gotten closer the other day, running into each other on their respective hikes. It had been unexpected, but maybe that’s why it felt so... easy. She’d almost forgotten the tension between them. Their conversation had flowed, despite it not being the easiest of topics. For a moment, she'd felt like they were actually making progress—pushing through the awkwardness. 

Then there were moments—ones that made her want to let go of all the hurt and accept whatever pieces of himself he was willing to offer. Like when he texted her after a nightmare, just to check if she was okay. Or last night, when he’d called again and again, refusing to let her shut him out. The way he’d so gently, yet firmly, insisted that she let him help had shaken something inside her, stirring the tightly locked box where she kept his emotions. It had felt like that little box was demanding in its own right to be let loose.

But then came his confession—that he thought leaving her behind had been a way to protect her. And just like that, it felt like two steps forward and a hundred steps back. How could he not see how wrong that was? How could he fail to understand that for years, his so-called “protection” had only left her feeling abandoned? Isolated. Alone. It was a kind of loneliness that sank into her bones, made worse by the knowledge that the person she needed most had chosen to walk away, thinking it was for her own good.

- - -

“Luce? Hey, Lucy?” Jackson waved his hand in front of her face, snapping her out of her daze.

They had finished their shift, ordered pizza, and now were back at Lucy's apartment, sitting on the floor in front of the couch. The pizza box sat open on the coffee table between them, half-eaten slices abandoned as Lucy stared off into space. Jackson leaned forward, concern etched on his face as he tried to catch her attention.

Lucy blinked, finally snapping back to reality, her eyes meeting his. She offered a small, sheepish smile. “Sorry,” she mumbled, running a hand through her hair. “I was just… thinking.”

“Don’t worry about it. What’s on your mind?” Jackson asked softly, his gaze never leaving her, waiting for her to open up.

Lucy let out a small sigh and glanced around the room as if the cozy space would offer her the words she couldn’t quite find. “Just… how nice this is,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “To have you here. To not feel so... alone for a change.”

He set his plate next to him, reaching for a napkin to wipe his fingers. He looked at her, concern etched in his features. “It is nice to be here Lucy. I've missed you.”

Lucy pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging them close. She rested her chin in her hand, her eyes fixed on the floor, her thoughts swirling in a mix of guilt and uncertainty. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I just… I didn’t know if you’d want me to bother you.” She shrugged, the movement small and almost defeated. She felt embarrassed, unsure how to explain the distance she’d put between them.

Jackson’s brow furrowed as he watched her withdraw even further. He reached out, his hand gently resting on her arm, hoping to offer some kind of comfort. His heart ached at the sight of her so withdrawn, so fragile, and unsure of herself. “Bother me?” He repeated. “Lucy. You could never bother me. You have been through something so…” He trailed off struggling to find the right words. "So, unimaginable. Have you been having nightmares all this time?"

Lucy’s shoulders tensed, and she nodded slowly, her eyes still avoiding his. "I just. I didn't want to burden you." She admitted.

"Lucy. You could never." Jackson said firmly.

She gave a small, hollow laugh, shaking her head. “I know you say that, Jackson, and I believe you mean it… but…” Her words trailed off, the vulnerability in her voice so raw that it made her physically recoil. She knew she had to open up, had to share at least a piece of what had been weighing on her, especially after last night. But knowing that didn’t make it any easier. “I’m not… I’m not normal,” she whispered, almost as if she were confessing something shameful.

Jackson blinked, taken aback. He made a small, confused noise in his throat but didn’t interrupt, sensing that she needed to say this.

“Everyone else in this world has their soulmate,” Lucy said, her voice trembling, as if the mere act of speaking the words made them more real, more painful. “They. They get to have someone who always cares about them, who just knows when something’s wrong, or—or when something is right. And I—I’m just… me. Just Lucy.”

Her hands twisted together in her lap, fingers clenching and unclenching. She struggled to keep her voice steady, but it cracked under the weight of her emotions. “If I tell you about my nightmares… about everything else? I don’t know what would happen. But I can’t… I don’t want to lose you, Jackson. You’re all I have left.”

Her voice wavered, and her eyes, brimming with tears, finally flicked up to meet his. “You’re my person,” she whispered. “And if that’s too much pressure, I get it. I do. But please, please don’t leave me too. I don’t think I could survive it.”

The dam broke, and Lucy collapsed into heaving sobs, the flood of emotions she had kept buried for so long finally overwhelming her. Tears streamed down her face, and her hands trembled as she tried in vain to stifle the sobs that wracked her body. Her shoulders shook, her breaths coming in ragged gasps as she buried her face in her hands.

Jackson, caught off guard but moving quickly, scrambled to her side, his own heart aching at the sight of her so broken. Without hesitation, he pulled her into his arms. “Woah, hey, hey,” he murmured. “You're okay, Lucy. It's okay. I’m not going anywhere. I’m here.”

Lucy clung to him, her sobs coming harder, her words tumbling out between gasps for air. “I’m so tired, Jackson,” she choked out. “I’m tired all the time. Of fighting. Of pretending I’m okay when I’m not.”

Jackson tightened his arms around her. “Okay, it's okay, I know Lucy.”

But Lucy pushed against his chest, her face streaked with tears, her voice rising. “No. No, you don’t get it,” she cried, her words spilling out in a rush. “You can’t. For years, I’ve held it all in. Every feeling, every emotion, everything. Because I thought he didn’t deserve that part of me. And he doesn’t. But—” her voice cracked, her breath hitching, “—I haven’t been able to feel anything for so long.”

Jackson’s heart twisted painfully in his chest, but he stayed quiet, letting her continue. 

“I’ve been numb for years,” she continued, her voice trembling. “And I’m tired of it, Jackson. I’m tired of holding it all in. And Tim… he said he wanted me to let it go, to feel again. And I’ve been trying. I really have, but it’s so much. Everything is just too much, and I don’t like it. I don’t know how to handle all of it at once.” Her voice cracked again, and she shook her head, tears falling faster. “I’m just so tired. Tired of feeling, tired of not feeling. I just—” she gasped, her chest heaving with the effort of holding it all in, “—I don’t want to do any of it anymore.”

With that, she collapsed against him again, her body shaking with sobs. Jackson wrapped his arms tighter still, and pressed his cheek to the top of her head, whispering. “I’m so sorry Lucy, I'm sorry I didn't know how much you were holding inside. I'm here okay? I've got you.” 

Lucy’s sobs slowly quieted, but her grip on him didn’t loosen. “You weren't supposed to know. No one was. That's the whole point.” She wiped her eyes and slowly pushed herself up. “I'm an Unchosen, Jackson. Nobody is supposed to know I exist. I have to hide, because if I don't then.” Her voice faltered, and her hands trembled as they fidgeted in her lap. “Then people like Caleb will come along, take advantage of me, and throw me in a barrel to die. Like I’m nothing… like I’m scum.”

Her words hung in the air, filled with so much pain and self-loathing that it made Jackson’s stomach lurch. He reached for her, gripping her shoulders firmly but gently, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Lucy, listen to me. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Your status—” he spat the word out like it disgusted him, “—doesn’t mean anything about who you are. It does not define you. You hear me?”

Lucy blinked, her lip quivering, as though she couldn’t quite believe his words, and shook her head. “No. No you're wrong. Because if I hadn’t put myself out there, if I hadn’t been so desperate for anything—for touch, for some kind of release—I would’ve seen it. I should have seen him coming a mile away!” She tore herself from his grip and jumped to her feet, her anger surging. She began pacing restlessly around the room.

“I’m a cop, Jackson. I’m trained for this. I should have known,” she spat, her hands flying to her head as if trying to hold herself together. “You know Caleb killed my therapist?” She stopped her pacing abruptly and turned to stare at Jackson. “He was a good man. Innocent. He dedicated his life to helping people like me—the few of us who had the courage to even look for help. And Caleb killed him for it. He’s dead because of me!”

Jackson watched, unable to do anything but bear witness to Lucy as she spiralled. 

“Lucy,” Jackson began softly, stepping toward her, but she was too far gone, lost in her own whirlwind of guilt and self-recrimination.

“Do you know what it feels like?” she asked, her voice shaking, “To know that someone died because of your weakness? Because you weren’t enough to stop it? That you were used, that your vulnerability, your… your need got someone else killed? I can’t—” her voice faltered, breaking apart. “I can’t ever make that right.” She began to pace wildly again. 

Jackson moved quickly, stepping in front of her path to stop her pacing. He tried to fold her into a hug, but she was too upset, and began to beat against his chest in frantic, weak strikes.

“No. No, Jackson. It's my fault!” She cried. 

“Lucy, stop,” Jackson said firmly, catching her flailing hands. He didn’t fight her, just gently batted her arms away as she struggled against him. He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her. This time, she didn’t resist. “Stop, babe, just stop,” he whispered, his voice soft but insistent.

He threaded his fingers through her hair, holding her close as he rocked them back and forth. “You are not responsible for what happened. You didn’t cause Caleb to be a monster. He made those choices. Not you. You didn’t kill your therapist, Caleb did. 

She stilled against him, her sobs still wracking her body, but her arms finally fell to her sides. Jackson felt his own tears begin to form as he looked down at her, his heart breaking for his friend. “And you—you are not weak for needing someone, for wanting connection. That doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human.”

Lucy stood there for a moment, stiff and resistant, but eventually, her body gave in. She slumped against him, the fight draining out of her as she finally accepted his hug. 

She didn’t resist as Jackson gently guided her to the couch, letting him pull her down beside him. She curled into him, her head resting on his chest, the steady beat of his heart a soothing rhythm she hadn’t realized she needed.

“Sorry,” she whispered, her voice small and hoarse.

Jackson let out a soft, half-hearted chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. “Hey, what are friends for, if not to be a human punching bag?”

Lucy huffed, giving him a light swat on the shoulder, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips despite herself.

He squeezed her a little tighter, resting his chin on top of her head.

She sighed deeply. “Last night. Tim said.. um. He said that it wasn't my fault.” 

Jackson smiled a little. “See. Even he knows it.”

“No no.” Lucy shook her head. “I mean… The reason he didn't wait for me. He said that it wasn't my fault, that he was just trying to protect me from himself.” 

Jackson hummed thoughtfully, a note of skepticism in his voice. “How do you feel about that?” 

Lucy stilled for a moment, her hands gripping the fabric of her jeans as she took a deep, shaky breath. “Angry doesn’t even cover it,” she admitted. “I've lost so many years of my life because of that decision, Jackson. And it wasn’t just time—God, I almost lost my actual life. All because he thought he knew what was best for me, like he had the right to make that call.”

Jackson frowned, a wave of sympathy and frustration washing over him on her behalf. “He doesn’t, Lucy. He doesn’t get to decide that.”

Lucy’s eyes flashed with fury, the depth of her frustration finally surfacing. “Exactly! We—we’re soulmates for God’s sake. Literally predestined to be together, and he just—what? Threw it all away because he thought he was some kind of curse?” She scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief. “It’s not fair, Jackson. He doesn't get to make that kind of decision for me. He doesn’t get to dictate my life because he’s scared he’ll screw it up.”

Jackson rubbed a hand gently up and down her arm. “You’re right. He doesn’t. It wasn’t his call to make.”

Lucy’s voice softened slightly, but the hurt was still there. “I just—how am I supposed to trust him now? How am I supposed to move forward knowing he didn't trust me enough to let me make my own choices? 

Jackson let out a heavy sigh, tilting his head back against the couch, his eyes tracing the ceiling. “I wish I had the answer for you, Lucy, I really do.” He paused, gently tangling his fingers with hers, giving a reassuring squeeze. “But I can’t tell you what to do here. It’s not that simple. I think... maybe this is one of those moments where you get to decide. He made the choice to keep you in the dark back then, but now, you’re the one who gets to decide if he deserves to be part of your life.”

He hesitated for a moment, then added softly, “If it means anything to you, Luce... I’ve known Tim for a long time. And I have never—” Jackson chuckled, the memory flickering across his mind, “—never heard that man lose it the way he did when he called me last night. He was so worried about you. It was like he didn’t even know how to handle it.”

Lucy shifted, pushing herself up to look at Jackson directly. “Really?”

Jackson nodded. “Yeah. It wasn’t just guilt or some sense of duty. It was real. He was genuinely scared for you, Lucy. I’m not saying it makes up for what he did, but... you should know that he cares. A lot.”

For a moment, Lucy just stared at him, her fingers tightening around his instinctively as she tried to process. “Do you think it’s okay that I’m not ready for more yet?” Her voice was small, uncertain. Then, she smiled softly, a fondness flickering in her eyes as she continued. “The notes he leaves me in the mornings… they’re sweet, short, nothing to write home about.” She gave a little shrug. “‘Have a good day. Be safe. Enjoy...’ Things like that. But the first one…” She paused, her smile fading slightly as her fingers traced the edge of the couch absentmindedly. “He said he thought we could have something beautiful. But I’m just… not ready for that yet.”

She glanced up at Jackson, her expression both apologetic and conflicted. “I feel guilty, you know? Like I’m holding us back. Like I should be able to move past everything and just... dive in. But I can’t. Not yet.”

Jackson gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “There's no timeline for healing, or trusting someone again. Take your time.” 

Lucy gave a small, tired smile and settled in against him again, allowing herself to relax. “Thanks for being here tonight Jackson.” she said quietly. 

Reaching for the remote, she flicked on the TV, glancing at him with a playful smirk. “Food porn?”

Chapter Text

The next morning, as Lucy arrived at the station, she felt lighter than she had in a long time. There was a spring in her step, the weight of the past few weeks lifting just enough for her to breathe more easily. She walked toward roll call looking forward to today’s note from Tim, and, yes, the treat too.

But as she reached her usual spot, she stopped short. Her table was empty. No note. No treat.

Her smile faltered, confusion clouding her features as she glanced around. She caught Jackson’s curious gaze and Angela’s smug grin. Something was up.

“Is this payback for you not getting something to eat yesterday?” Lucy asked, half-joking, but there was a touch of disappointment in her voice as she turned to Angela.

Angela crossed her arms, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Maybe,” she teased, leaning back in her chair. “But no, it's not me. Seems like your usual admirer had a change of heart today.”

Lucy frowned as she sank into her seat, slightly deflated. She couldn't help but feel that familiar tug of insecurity, a quiet fear whispering in the back of her mind. Did I do something wrong? 

Three days passed without a single note or treat, and the absence weighed on her more than she cared to admit. 

By the third day, it was gnawing at her enough that she couldn't keep quiet anymore. She’d brushed it off at first, told herself that he was probably busy or had other things on his mind, but the silence was beginning to feel like a deliberate choice. Maybe she'd let her emotions too out of control the other night with Jackson. Maybe Tim had sensed her anger or hesitation. Maybe... he was pulling back.

As she and Angela cruised through the streets that day, the question burned on her tongue, and she finally decided to just ask.

“Hey, is, uh… is Tim okay?” Lucy tried to keep her voice casual, but Angela immediately glanced at her, eyebrow raised.

Angela shrugged. “Dunno. Shouldn't you be able to answer that?”

Lucy’s gaze dropped to the window, her fingers tapping against her thigh. “Yeah... yeah, I guess.” Before she could stop herself, she began to ramble. “It’s just… the notes stopped. The treats, too. Not that it’s a big deal or anything,” she added quickly, her voice a little too high-pitched. “But I guess I got used to them, and now… nothing.”

Angela smirked knowingly. “So you’re freaking out because he stopped bringing you little love notes?”

Lucy’s cheeks burned. “No! I’m not freaking out. I just…” She trailed off, twisting her earring nervously. “I don’t know. It’s weird. Like, what if I did something? What if he changed his mind?”

Angela gave her a sideways glance, then snorted. “Girl, you’re so far in your head it’s a wonder you can still see daylight.”

Lucy frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re overthinking.” Angela shrugged, casually turning the steering wheel as they rounded a corner. “Maybe he’s just giving you space, waiting for you to be ready.”

Lucy bit her lip, the words sinking in but not fully settling her nerves. “But what if I don’t want space? What if I—”

Angela cut her off. “Then tell him that, not me.” She shifted to get more comfortable in her seat and smirked. “Also you need to chill out because he called in sick this week. Literally nothing to worry about.”

The tension in Lucy’s shoulders eased a bit, but embarrassment washed over her. She slumped back into her seat. “Oh. I just assumed…”

“Yeah, well, you know what they say about assuming things,” Angela teased.

- - -

A slow, persistent thumping at the door grated on Tim’s last nerve. He’d been trying to ignore it, hoping whoever was on the other side would take the hint and leave. But as the sound continued—rhythmic, irritating—Tim groaned and forced himself off the couch, preparing to tear into whoever had the nerve to bother him.

Not that he really needed to wonder. There was only one person who could be that persistently annoying.

He yanked the door open, already mid-grumble, “What do you want, Lopez?”

Angela was slouched against the doorframe, arms spread out like a dramatic pose, head hanging low, her fist still lazily thumping the door as if she couldn’t be bothered to put in more effort. 

She lifted her head with a sigh, running a hand through her hair. “Finally! I was beginning to think I’d have to knock for the rest of the night.”

“Yeah, well, some people wouldn’t take the hint,” Tim muttered, leaning against the door in exasperation. “Oh no, please, come in, by all means,” he added dryly as Angela pushed past him without waiting for an invitation.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Angela shot back, smirking as she glanced around the room, unimpressed by the state of things. The living room looked like he hadn’t left it in days—pizza boxes, empty water bottles, a bowl of M&Ms half-eaten on the table with wrappers scattered everywhere. A blanket was tossed haphazardly over the couch.

“Looks like you’ve been having a blast,” she remarked, eyeing the mess.

Tim shut the door behind her with a sigh, rubbing a hand across his face. “What do you want, Angela? I’m really not in the mood.”

Angela gave him a once-over, raising an eyebrow. “Clearly. And that’s exactly why I’m here.” She watched as Tim rolled his eyes and sank heavily into the couch, trying to disappear in the cushions.

“What’s going on with you?” she demanded.

Tim shrugged. “Nothing. Just wanted to take a couple of days for myself.”

Angela scoffed, turning to roll her eyes in disbelief. “Please. I can count on one hand the number of times you've done that.” She nudged his foot with her toe, trying to get a reaction. “Come on, talk to me, Tim.”

He stayed stubbornly silent, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the floor. Angela wasn’t having it.

“Don’t you think it’s kind of funny,” she persisted, her voice sharpening, “that I’ve had to come here three times in the last year just to knock some sense into you?”

Still nothing. Just a cold glare aimed in her direction. She sighed, leaning back on her heels, realizing she’d need a different approach.

“She’s worried about you.” she said softly.

That got his attention. His head snapped up, his brow furrowing. Angela didn’t miss the way his shoulders stiffened at the mention of Lucy.

“Did you really think you could spend weeks bringing her little treats and leaving her notes, and she wouldn’t notice when they suddenly stopped?” Angela pressed, folding her arms across her chest. “She’s worried, Tim. She thinks maybe she did something to make you pull back.”

Tim’s glare faltered, replaced by a flicker of guilt as he raked a hand through his hair. “And I assume you just poked that bear right? Instead of reassuring her?” 

Angela shrugged casually, unconcerned. “Not my job to reassure her.”

Tim shot up, bristling with anger. “You’re her TO! It’s absolutely your job!”

Angela raised an eyebrow, unfazed by his outburst. “Sure, when it comes to stuff on the job. But her personal life? Yeah, I’m gonna take a pass on that.” She tapped her finger against her lips, pretending to think. “Then again… if only she had a soulmate for that. You know, one who was actually willing to put in the effort with her? Huh… wonder where I could find him?”

Tim slumped back into the couch, pulling the blanket over himself. “Oh, shut up, Lopez.”

“Make me,” she shot back, petulantly. “I’m not leaving until you talk, so you might as well start.”

Tim sighed, refusing to give her the satisfaction of eye contact. “Fine, something happened. Okay? Happy?”

Angela simply waved her hand, urging him to continue with an exaggerated gesture, not letting him off the hook so easily.

Tim hesitated, rubbing a hand over his face. “She had a nightmare—a bad one. And I... I couldn't just leave her to deal with it alone, but I screwed it all up. I should’ve called West right away, got someone she really trusts to help her. But instead, I had to—” He slammed his fist against his forehead in frustration. “I just had to be a selfish idiot and go to her myself.”

Angela’s expression softened. “Tim, that’s not selfish. That’s what soulmates are supposed to do—support each other.”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong.” His voice grew sharper, almost desperate. “She wouldn’t even be having these nightmares if it weren’t for me. Her life... it’d be so much better if it weren't for me. So, I started asking myself—why am I even doing this? What’s the end game here? Get her to trust me? Okay, but then what? What’s the point?”

He paused, self-loathing radiating off of him. “I can't give her the life she deserves. I've never been what she needs, and never will be. She's better off without me. I know that." The last sentence came out like a harsh truth he'd been telling himself for far too long. 

Rolling over, he stared blankly at the wall. "So yeah, I called out for a few days, just to clear my head. Good thing I did too, because that day she was furious. And hurt... She was blaming herself for things that are my fault, things she has no business feeling guilty for, things she should be blaming me for."

He flicked his eyes sharply to Angela, swinging his legs off the couch to a seated position. "Did you know there's no literature about Unchosens? Nothing. There's volumes about Soulmates—the depth, the intensity of the bond. And just as much about Lost Souls—the suffering, how to come back from it. But Unchosens? There's nothing. No guide, no manual, no warnings. I had no idea what she'd go through, what it would cost her, and if l'd known back then..." 

His voice cracked, and he let out a bitter, hollow laugh. “I would've killed myself. I should have. I'd read about what happens when a soulmate loses their other half to suicide. The kind of pain it inflicts, how it messes them up. I didn't want that for her, didn't want her to suffer because of me. So I did the next best thing and joined the army. Figured if I didn't come back, maybe it'd be easier on her. Dying in action seemed... noble. Or at least less pathetic. But it didn't work. I survived." 

He rested his elbows on his knees, shoulders slumped, looking more defeated than Angela had ever seen him. “I should've just ended it back then, her suffering would have paled in comparison to what she's going through now. Maybe then she'd be happy, thriving, living the life I wanted her to have. A life without me dragging her down.”

Angela stared at Tim, wide-eyed. She'd seen him struggle before, but never like this-never with such an open display of self-loathing. Swallowing the sudden knot in her throat, she steadied herself. "Tim," she said softly, her tone uncharacteristically gentle, "do you still feel like that? Like you need to end your life?”

For a long moment, Tim didn't answer. He kept his head down, eyes tightly shut. Finally, he spoke in a strained whisper. "Part of me does," he confessed. "But... it was easier back then. When I didn't know her. When she was just an idea—someone I was destined to be with but hadn't yet met. Now.."

He hesitated, his breath hitching, and Angela saw the anguish etched into his face as he tried to find the right words. "Now, I can't do that. I want to make it up to her. She needs to know that everything I did, every stupid decision... it was because I thought it would protect her. That I had her best interests at heart. I never, ever wanted her to hurt because of me.”

Tim's hands were trembling, and Angela could see how close he was to breaking. She'd never seen him look so lost, so hollowed out by regret and guilt. A part of her wanted to shake him, to knock some sense back into him like she had so many times before, but she knew this moment required something different. She reached out, her voice softer than he deserved, but exactly what he needed.

"Tim" she said firmly, sitting beside him and placing a steady hand on his back. "You're right, she's hurt. But you know what? She's also strong. She survived those years, and she's still here. Maybe that's something worth fighting for, instead of running away from."

Tim let out a shuddering breath, one hand wiping over his face as he fought back tears. I want to believe that" he said quietly, brokenly. "l just don't know if I'm enough for her. If I ever could be.”

Angela's voice softened even more, the tough exterior she always maintained fading away. "Maybe that's not your decision to make, Tim. Maybe that's hers. And if you care about her as much as you say, then you owe it to both of you to stick around and find out.”

Tim let out a slow, shaky breath, his eyes distant as he absorbed Angela’s words. He turned them over in his mind, trying to accept her way of thinking as the better path. But then his expression shifted, his brow furrowing, a new worry settling in.

“What's wrong?” Angela asked, instantly alert.

Tim held up a hand, trying to focus inward to where he was feeling. “It's… Lucy. She's nervous I think. On edge about something. She's-” He trailed off abruptly, his eyes darting to the window as the glare of headlights swept across the living room.

Angela glanced out the window. A car was pulling into the driveway.

“She’s... here?” Tim’s voice wavered, disbelief mingling with confusion. His back stiffened, and he pushed himself to his feet. “Why is she here? Did you… did you say something?” His tone turned sharp, almost accusatory, as he whipped around to Angela.

Angela raised both hands in mock surrender, calm despite the situation. “Hey, don’t look at me! I’m as surprised as you are.” But a knowing smile tugged at her lips. “Though... you have to admit, it's pretty perfect timing.”

He narrowed his eyes, suspicion flickering across his face.

“Talk to her, Tim.” She said firmly. 

He gestured around the cluttered living room. “Lopez, come on. Look at me—look at this place. This is a mess, and so am I. It's not the right time.”

Angela crossed her arms. “Tim, there’s never going to be a ‘right time.’ She’s here, isn’t she? Don’t make her wait outside because you’re too afraid to face her. Talk to her.”

He was frozen in place, torn between rushing to the door and bolting in the other direction.

“Go on,” Angela urged gently, nudging him with her elbow. “You said you wanted to make things right. Well, here's your chance.”

His eyes darted around the room, shame flooding through him as he took stock of the trash scattered around, the dishes piling up. He made a brief sound of protest before squaring his shoulders. “Fine,” he muttered, more to himself than to her. 

Angela’s voice followed him. “You got this.”

Tim’s legs carried him to the door almost against his will, his heart hammering in his chest. He paused for a split second, his hand hovering over the doorknob, his mind racing. What if I screw this up again? But then he caught a glimpse of Lucy through the small window—standing nervously on his porch, shifting from foot to foot, her eyes glancing back at the car like she was one second away from bolting.

Taking a deep breath, he turned the knob and pulled the door open.

“Wow, you really are sick,” Lucy blurted out, surprise clear in her eyes as she took in his disheveled appearance—unshaven, shadows under his eyes.

Tim raised an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement breaking through the exhaustion. Before he could respond, Lucy’s eyes widened, and she fumbled for words. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. That was... rude. I didn’t mean it like that.” She hurriedly thrust a bag forward, her face flushing with embarrassment. “Uh, Lopez said you were sick, and I thought… well, I brought you some soup. But you’re clearly okay—well, not okay, but... you know what I mean. And, um...” Her words trailed off as she began to back away, clearly mortified. “I’m just going to go now. Sorry.”

Tim’s lips twitched with the faintest hint of a smile as he reached to take the bag she was still holding. He really did find her nervous babbling to be impossibly cute. “Lucy, I’m not sick,” he said gently, “just... dealing with some stuff. Do you want to come in?”

Lucy hesitated, feeling warmth rise to her cheeks. “Oh no, I-I didn’t mean to intrude,” she stammered, glancing behind her and noting Angela’s car parked in the driveway. Her discomfort grew. “And it looks like you’ve got company, so—”

Before she could finish, Angela's voice rang out. “Nope! Don’t mind me!” Angela stepped out from the living room, quickly heading toward the door. She slipped past them both, a sly smile on her face. “I was just about to leave anyway,” she said brightly. With a quick hop down the front steps, she turned back just long enough to meet Tim’s eyes, mouthing, ‘Talk to her’, before calling over her shoulder, “Good night, Tim! Good night, Lucy!”

Lucy’s eyes followed Angela as she disappeared, the awkwardness hanging in the air between them. Tim shifted, stepping aside and holding the door open wider. “You’re not intruding,” he said, his tone softer and more inviting. “Stay. Please.”

Lucy hesitated for a second longer, then nodded, stepping inside as Tim closed the door behind her.

He held up the bag with a small smile. “I’m going to put this in the kitchen. Make yourself comfortable, okay?” He gestured to the living room before slipping away.

As he disappeared into the kitchen, Lucy took a quiet moment to look around. He still hadn't decorated, or added any personal touches since she'd last been here. Kojo's doggy bed still lay in the corner with the yellow blanket she'd made, though it was looking worn now, frayed around the edges.

Tim hurried back, quickly picking up the pizza boxes and scattered candy wrappers. Flustered, he shot her an apologetic look, his brow furrowed. “I'm sorry for the mess. I wasn't expecting company. I'm not normally this… messy.”

Lucy waved him off, and gestured back toward the door. “Please, don’t apologize for me. I’m the one who dropped by out of nowhere,” she said, already feeling like she might be overstepping. “If it’s too much, I can go. Really, I didn’t mean to intrude.”

Tim shook his head quickly. “No, you’re not disrupting anything.” 

They stood awkwardly for a moment, neither quite knowing what to say to the other, before Tim realized he was still holding a pile of trash in his hands. He nodded toward the couch. “Sit, please. I'll be right back.” 

When he returned he sat down as well, keeping a respectable distance from Lucy. 

She took a steadying breath, smoothing her hands over her jeans. “Where’s Kojo?” she asked, filling the silence with the first question that came to mind.

Tim smiled faintly. “In the backyard, getting some air. He’ll probably be thrilled to see you.”

Lucy nodded, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Right. Of course.” She could feel her heartbeat picking up, and the silence stretch again.

Tim cleared his throat. “Lucy, I need to apologize.”

“Oh, I… I wanted to thank you,” she said at the exact same moment, and they both froze, blinking in surprise before sharing a small, genuine smile.

“Please, you first,” Tim offered

Lucy took a steadying breath. “I didn’t get the chance to thank you… for the other night.”

Tim furrowed his brow, genuinely confused. “Thank me? Why, for what?”

“For coming to me,” she said quietly. “For staying and helping me through it.”

Tim pressed his lips into a thin line, guilt flooding through him at the memory. “That's… actually what I wanted to apologize to you for. I shouldn't have done that.”

He felt her hurt tug inside of him, even as he watched as Lucy’s face fell, a small, almost inaudible “oh” escaping her.

Realizing how his words sounded, Tim quickly clarified. “No, Lucy, I didn’t mean it like that. I just… I wasn’t the right person to help you through that. I should’ve called Jackson for you from the start. He’s who you trust. He’s who you lean on.”

Tim felt her frustration pulse through him, but he held onto his calm, grateful that she was letting her emotions out, giving him a glimpse of what she truly felt. “Why are you so sure you know what’s best for me?” she demanded.

He took a deep breath, steadying himself. “Can I answer with a question?”

She gave a small nod, arms folded defensively but eyes intent on his.

“After I hung up the phone... did you box my emotions again? This week—did you keep me boxed?”

Lucy lowered her gaze, her expression softening just a touch, guilt flickering in her eyes as she avoided his.

“That’s exactly what I mean.” His voice was gentle, filled with a sadness from deep inside him, that he knew she would not feel. “I’m not good for you. And, whether you’ll say it or not, you know it, too.” 

He tilted his head, trying to meet her eyes again. “You were projecting pretty hard the other night. I already know the pain I've caused you, but it's.. different to hear you say it yourself.” 

She finally looked at him again, and he held her gaze, wanting her to see that he wasn't speaking out of anger or frustration but from a place of regret and care.

Lucy bit her lip, slowly processing his words. “Is that.. Is that why you called out of work this week? Was I projecting too much?” 

“You're entitled to your feelings, Lucy. I want you to freely explore them, regardless of how I might feel.” He tried to keep his voice even, deflecting just enough.

Her brows knitted, not letting him off the hook. “That doesn't answer my question.”

Tim shifted, bending a knee as he leaned back into the couch, settling in for the conversation. “It’s... part of it,” he admitted slowly, his voice softening as he searched for the right words. “I have a lot of demons, Lucy. Always have. Everything I’ve ever done, even the things I regret most, has been about trying to protect you from those demons. They’ve just... been getting harder to keep down lately. Especially now, as you’re learning how to explore your emotions again. All that I've buried is coming to the surface, and…” 

He paused, clearing his throat, before confessing, for the second time tonight. “I didn't feel like I was fit to do the job in this state of mind.” 

He felt her emotions soften, the frustration giving way to compassion and sadness that radiated between them. He shook his head, his defenses instinctively rising. “Please, don't feel that way towards me. I'm not deserving of it.” 

Tentatively, Lucy reached out, her fingers brushing his hand. “But what if I think you are?” She turned, facing him fully now. “Tim, I’m tired of being angry. It’s exhausting trying to keep it in check all the time. But I'd like to understand you, and… I’m not saying that means we're going to jump into anything, far from it actually.” She gave a soft, self-conscious smile. “But maybe we can just start by at least trying to communicate openly and honestly?”

His breath hitched as he blinked at Lucy in disbelief. Her grace and kindness had a way of constantly catching him off guard. How could this woman, who had endured so much—and so much of it because of him—still be willing to listen, to give him even a sliver of a chance? Despite her own suffering, here she was, ready to understand, ready to hear his side.

Finally, he gave a small nod, his fingers lightly curling over hers. “I think… that might be something I could do.” he murmured.

Lucy's shoulders relaxed even further, and a small smile tugged at her lips. “Okay,” she replied softly. After a beat, she tilted her head, looking down toward the floor as she gathered her courage. “Would you… maybe want to go for a walk? I know it’s late, but we could take Kojo around the block, just talk a little?”

Tim shrugged, feigning casualness, though he couldn’t hide the faint surprise in his eyes. “Sure, if that’s what you want.”

Lucy glanced back up at him, her smile widening just a touch. “I think some air might be good for both of us,” she said softly, her hand still resting under his. “And… I’d like to see Kojo.”

He nodded, releasing her hand reluctantly before standing up. As they made their way to the back door, he whistled softly, and Kojo came bounding in, tail wagging and tongue hanging out, clearly thrilled for the attention.

Lucy crouched down, scratching behind Kojo’s ears, as she murmured sweetly to him. Tim watched, something in his chest loosening at the simple moment of affection.

After grabbing a leash, he nodded toward the front door. For a while, they walked in comfortable silence, Kojo trotting contentedly between them, before Tim spoke. “Is there.. anything you'd like to know?”

Lucy hummed thoughtfully. “I'd like to understand what started all this,” she said, taking time to choose her words carefully. “What makes you think I need protecting from you… but I get if that's too much for you to talk about for tonight.” 

Tim's eyes dropped to the ground, his jaw tight as he nodded. “No… it’s fine,” he replied slowly, almost as if he was convincing himself as much as her. “You deserve to know, and I want to be honest with you… just… bear with me, okay?”

Lucy gave a gentle nod, her expression open, soft. “Take your time,” she murmured, her voice filled with patience.

Tim took a shaky breath, swallowing down the flood of old memories he’d kept buried for so long. “Look… the thing I need you to understand is… I’ve been hurting people my whole life. Since the moment I was born, really.” He paused, needing a moment before he could go on. Letting her see this side of him was going to be difficult.

“My mom… she had depression. It started after I was born, but it wasn’t the kind of thing that went away.” He shifted uncomfortably, jostling Kojo's leash as his body tensed. “It was… bad. And maybe… maybe that would’ve been something we could handle, but my dad… he felt everything she felt. Her emptiness, her pain, her… hopelessness. And instead of helping her, instead of loving her through it, he got buried under it himself. And that angered him, that loss of control.”

Lucy listened, her compassion unwavering. He felt it—her empathy—and for once, he didn’t flinch away from it.

“When my mom was down… when she didn’t feel like she had any worth,” Tim continued, his voice becoming rougher, “he’d feel it all, like it was his own. It muddied everything, and he couldn’t handle it. He’d just… explode.” He clenched his fists unconsciously, the memory of it still so vivid it felt as if he could still hear those echoes of his father’s anger. “All of that anger, that hopelessness, it needed a target. And I was… I was an easy target.”

Lucy reached out to touch his arm, steadying him momentarily before gently slipping Kojo's leash out of his hand and into her own. 

“I tried to take it, you know? Tried to get him to focus on me instead, protect my mom whenever I could. I thought if I could just handle it, maybe he’d let her be. Maybe I’d be able to help her. I’d do my homework, keep my room spotless, help around the house, anything to keep the peace. But it was never enough. Nothing was ever enough.” His voice cracked, and he shook his head, his eyes dropping to the pavement. “One day, I finally realized I’d never be able to help her. And that realization… it just—it broke something in me. It was like all the light I’d held onto, hoping things would change, just… disappeared.”

He took a shuddering breath, ashamed of the words he was about to say. “I know it’s not rational, but… I hated myself for it. For failing her. And my dad… he’d remind me every chance he got. He’d say that if I hadn’t been born, she’d be fine—happy. That I'd made their lives worse, and they'd have been better off without me. Eventually I started to believe him, how could I not?” 

Tim’s voice softened, catching on the rawness of his words. “But... I think the worst part was knowing you were out there.” He paused, turning to fully face her, his eyes holding a depth of sorrow and yearning that made her breath hitch. “I knew you were feeling everything I was. And I didn’t want that for you.” 

He reached up to gently tuck that familiar, unruly strand of hair behind her ear, his touch lingering for just a moment. “My Sunshine…” he whispered. “I wanted to protect you from all of it. I was so scared that, if you felt too much of it… you’d turn into the same monster my dad became. I couldn't bear that idea. Not for you.”

He motioned down the quiet street, indicating they should start back toward the house, and she fell into step beside him. “I did everything I could to keep those feelings locked away. To push them down, because I’d seen how they’d twisted him. And I read everything I could find, books, articles—anything that could explain what happens to the one left behind.. What it would mean for a soulmate if…” he trailed off, unable to say the words again tonight. But Lucy didn't need him to continue, she understood what his silence meant. 

Without a word, she reached over to hook her hand into the crook of his arm, giving a gentle squeeze. She looked up at the stars for a while, trusting Tim to guide her as they walked. “I tried to help you.. back then I mean.” 

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, centering herself as she focused inward, feeling for the tether that connected her to Tim. She let a deep wave of calm flow through it, hoping to offer him some comfort, even if she couldn’t yet bring herself to fully open that box of his emotions. But she could tell it worked by the slight hitch in his breath and the way his tense muscles began to ease under her hand.

After a few moments , she opened her eyes and continued. “I took up yoga, and learned to meditate. Whenever you were having a bad day I would try to help you stay calm. She glanced at him and hesitated before adding, “I used to sing, too. Just little things here and there when I felt you having a particularly hard time. It seemed to help somehow, like I could feel you get lighter. Did I project that?”

“No, I don’t think so.” He paused, thinking back. “But I do remember those days you’d send something—some kind of peace. I’d feel it like a warm blanket just when I needed it.” He gave a small shake of his head, his mouth quirking up in a half-smile. “But singing? I think I’d remember that.”

They fell into a comfortable silence as they walked back to his house, with Kojo trotting happily between them. Tim felt an unfamiliar lightness, maybe even contentment, as he noted that Lucy hadn’t let go of his arm. Each time they stopped so Kojo could sniff the grass, she stayed close, her touch grounding him in a way he hadn’t realized he needed.

When they reached the driveway, Lucy hesitated at her car, shifting slightly as she opened the door. “It’s getting late,” she said softly, glancing back toward him. “I should probably go.”

He took the leash from her hand, tucking his own hands into his pockets. “Right… well. Thanks. For coming over tonight.”

She nodded, and as she was about to step into the car, he called out, “Hey, Lucy?”

She turned, brow raised in question. 

“I… I know you don’t like me very much,” he began. She started to protest, a soft sound of disapproval escaping her lips, but he held up a hand, silently asking for a moment to explain. “Please. Just let me say this.” He swallowed hard, fighting the exhaustion and vulnerability of tonight. “I need you to know that I’ve always cared about you, more than I ever knew how to express. All I ever wanted was what was best for you… and I am truly, deeply sorry. That in trying to give you that, I ended up hurting you worse than I ever thought possible.”

He forced himself to meet her eyes, his heart pounding as he tried desperately to let her see his sincerity. “I’ve spent a long time afraid that… well.. in the end, I turned into the same monster my dad was.” His shoulders slumped, and he looked away.

But she stepped forward, closing the distance between them. Her hand found his arm as her other hand moved up, brushing softly against his cheek. The touch was achingly familiar, echoing his, that night in the gym when everything between them had felt just as raw and exposed. She tilted her head up to meet his eyes.

“Tim,” she said gently. “You're not your father. You did hurt me, and that will take time to heal from… but all I've heard tonight is that the soulmate connection isn't perfect, and maybe if we'd had all the missing pieces from the start we'd both be better off.” 

She paused, her thumb rubbing gentle circles on his arm. “I'd like for us to do this again. To talk? Fill in all the blanks… if. If that's something you want too?” She asked

He stared down at her, barely able to breath, as he covered her hand on his cheek with his own. Pressing it there to anchor him to the moment. “Yeah… yeah, Lucy. I want that too. More than I can even say.”

For a moment, she looked down, a shy smile playing at her lips as she gathered her thoughts. “Okay,” she murmured, looking back up at him. “I’ll… I’ll text you when I’m free?” She bit her lip before continuing, hesitating slightly. “And if you’re open to it, I’d like to bring my journals with me. Maybe we could go through them together? I think… getting clarity about a few things might be a good place to start.”

His hand tightened just slightly over hers, relief flooding through him. “Anything, Lucy. I’ll do anything you ask.”

After a moment, Lucy slowly withdrew her hand, letting it trail from his cheek as she took a step back, her fingers lingering for just a second longer than necessary. “Goodnight Tim.” 

He watched as she slipped into the driver’s seat and started her car, his heart hammering as he lifted a hand in a small wave. “Goodnight, Lucy,” he murmured as she pulled out of the driveway.

Chapter Text

Lucy’s phone pinged just as she finished closing her locker, readying herself for roll call. She pulled it from her pocket, curiosity bubbling up when she saw Tim's name on the screen. Tapping into the message, she couldn’t help but giggle softly, her heart giving a quick, warm flutter.

Tim had sent a picture of a yellow sticky note sitting next to a plate of toast—his breakfast, presumably. Scrawled on the note, in his unmistakably neat handwriting, were the words: Have a good day. Be safe.

She bit her lip, feeling a surprisingly pleasant ache of affection as she studied the image. Their conversation last night had left her with a sense that they were finally moving forward, breaking down walls that had once seemed insurmountable. Now, staring at his thoughtful message, she wanted to respond in a way that kept that momentum, that showed him just how much she appreciated his small gesture.

Lucy started typing, then paused, her fingers hovering over the screen. ‘ Cute’ , she typed, before backspacing. No, that felt too forward. ‘Thank you.’ , she typed next, only to hesitate again—too formal. She groaned softly, scrunching her nose and rolling her head from side to side as she muttered under her breath. “Come on, Lucy, you can do this.”

Finally, she settled on something simple and genuine, blowing out a little breath as she typed it.

Lucy: Thanks, you too

She paused, tapping the heart icon over the picture to add:

  Lucy loved an image

“There,” she whispered, tucking her phone back into her pocket with a satisfied little smile. It was enough to say thank you without overthinking it, and she liked that it hinted at the small steps they were taking together. 

- - -

All morning, whenever there was a lull between calls, Lucy could feel Angela’s gaze lingering, studying her with barely—not at all—disguised curiosity. It was only a matter of time, she knew, before Angela gave in and started asking questions. The look in her TO's eyes said it all: she was figuring out the best angle to pry.

Lucy rolled her eyes, biting back a smile as she shot Angela a sideways glance. “Just ask already, Lopez, I know you want to.”

Angela, never one to hold back, let a smirk tug at her lips and jumped right in. “So… how’d it go with lover boy last night?”

Lucy’s cheeks immediately warmed, and she crossed her arms. “Stop, it wasn't like that. We just… talked. A lot.”

Angela nodded, twirling her finger in the air, signalling Lucy to continue.

Lucy bit the inside of her cheek, struggling to find the right words, her fingers fidgeting with the zipper on her jacket. “We’re just… trying to understand each other, I guess,” she finally admitted, her voice softer. “Figuring out how we got here, what it all means…”

Angela’s smirk faded, replaced by a gentler expression. “Hey, that sounds like real progress. Do you feel good about it?”

Lucy hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah… I do. I mean, I think we’re both kind of terrified,” she added with a soft laugh, “but it feels like we’re finally being honest. Like we’re actually seeing each other, you know?”

- - -

Lucy sat across from Jackson at the outdoor food court, nervously bouncing her knee under the table as she tapped her phone lightly against her fingers. Her eyes kept darting back to the screen, a blank message open with no idea what to write.

Jackson raised an eyebrow, setting his soda down with an exaggerated sigh. “Lucy, for the love of all things holy, just text him already .”

She shot him a glare over her sandwich. “I will! I’m just… trying to figure out the best way to do it. I don’t want to sound too forward. I want it to seem, you know… easy. Casual.” She said, frowning.

Jackson leaned back, studying her with a smirk. “Alright, what exactly happened last night? Last you told me, you were furious with him, nowhere near ready for anything romantic. And now ?” He pointed at her phone. “Now you’re acting like a school girl too nervous to say ‘hi’ to her crush. Come on. What gives?”

Lucy groaned, flopping forward, her head in her hands. “Ugh, I know!” She shook her head, peeking out from between her fingers. “It’s just… talking to him is so easy, you know? Like, we got into some really heavy stuff last night.. and he just…. It was… real.”

Jackson softened, watching her as she straightened up, clutching her phone tightly, the glow of the screen highlighting her uncertain smile. “And now I don’t want to mess it up by moving too fast or saying something dumb.”

Before Jackson could reply, a voice rang out from behind them. “Heads up! Hot Mama, comin’ through! Make a hole, people!”

Angela barreled her way through the lunch crowd, the flow of people obediently parting for her as she approached their table with a triumphant grin. She dropped into the seat beside Lucy, her tray clattering onto the table with a dramatic flair. Jackson raised an eyebrow at her.

Angela feigned an innocent shrug, her hand resting protectively on her stomach. “What? I’m creating life over here! They should move for me.”

Jackson shook his head, laughing. “You’re ridiculous, Angela. You know that?”

She tilted her head, smirking as she took a big bite of her tacos. “And yet here I am, loved and cherished despite it.” With a playful waggle of her taco, she nodded toward Lucy, who was still staring at her phone like it held the mysteries of the universe. “Alright, so what’s going on here?”

Jackson leaned back, eyeing Lucy with a mix of amusement and exasperation. “Well,” he said, sipping his drink, “our girl here is just trying to find the perfect way to let Tim know she’s free tomorrow if he wants to talk.”

“Doesn’t sound too hard to me.” Angela leaned in, nudging Lucy. “Just text him something simple, like, ‘Hey, Tim. I’m free tomorrow if you want to talk.’ There, done! Easy peasy.”

Lucy gave them both a sheepish smile. “Okay, fine, you both win. I’ll text him. But for the record, it is complicated, alright? Last night was… a lot.”

Angela made an understanding noise, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. “Love’s messy, Chen. Just gotta roll with it.” Then she paused, a mischievous glint in her eye. “But, actually, enough about your issues, because I have a problem. Wesley is being weird.”

Lucy set her phone down, more than happy to let her own thoughts of Tim drift for a minute. “What’s he up to?”

Angela sighed, folding her arms. “So, he’s been really… excited about something. Not your usual ‘I’m getting out of work early’ kind of excited, either. This is next-level, like he’s hiding some big, fun surprise. But every time I bring it up, he gets all cagey and won’t tell me a thing!”

Jackson raised an eyebrow. “Wesley? Cagey? Are we talking about the same guy who planned a six-month in-advance anniversary date with colour-coded reminders?”

“Right? He’s all about planning and transparency. But this time, he’s got this grin on his face, like he’s in on some big secret, and he just shuts down when I ask about it,” Angela said, looking genuinely baffled.

Jackson’s eyes lit up as he snapped his fingers. “Wait a minute, don’t you two have that big vacation coming up? Girl, he’s putting a ring on it!” he exclaimed, wiggling his fingers and motioning toward his own ring finger.

Angela paused mid-bite, tilting her head thoughtfully. “Nooo…” But the glint in her eye grew as a grin spread across her face. “Wait. You really think?”

Jackson leaned in, nodding like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Absolutely. You’re definitely getting engaged!”

Angela’s eyes widened as the realization hit her, and she practically bounced in her seat. “Holy crap, I’m getting engaged!” She squealed, pressing her hands to her cheeks as if she could barely contain herself. But then she stopped, her excitement giving way to a more serious thought. “Oh, shoot. Lucy, I almost forgot. I’ll be gone for ten days, so Tim is going to step in as your TO while I’m away.”

Lucy blinked, the words sinking in, and she could feel a mix of nerves and excitement at the idea of spending extended time with Tim. Granted it would be in a working environment, but the thought of having him back as her TO didn't seem as daunting as it once had. She was actually curious as to what that relationship would look like now that they knew who they were to each other. And she made a mental note to ask him about it the next time she saw him…. Which would never actually happen if she didn't text him. 

Her stomach twisted slightly as she fumbled for her phone, inwardly groaning at how a simple text could feel so nerve-wracking.

Lucy: Lopez says we're going to be

         spending more time with each other. 

Lucy: On the clock that is…

Lucy: But, off the clock, I don't have

         any plans for tomorrow…. You?

She bit her lip, anxiously staring at her phone wondering how long it would take Tim to respond.  Across from her, Jackson and Angela were still excitedly discussing Angela’s possible engagement, but their voices faded into the background as three little dots appeared at the bottom of her screen.

                   Tim: Yeah, she mentioned that to me too.             

                           In a couple weeks right? 

                            I'm definitely free tomorrow if you are.

                   Tim: Now which of those things has you 

                           so nervous right now?

Lucy froze as his last message came through, her heart hammering in her chest. She hadn’t even thought about calming her emotions, and now it seemed he could sense every bit of her tension and excitement. She mentally kicked herself—was she becoming too open? But… it felt good, freeing even, to let herself just feel.

Lucy: Guess I betrayed even myself… 

          is it really that bad? 

                Tim: Not at all. Just for the last 20 

                        minutes at least it's been coming through 

                        clear as a bell. 

                Tim: Can I ask you something?     

Lucy’s stomach did another little flip as her curiosity took over. Biting her lip again, she pushed back from the table, her half-finished lunch forgotten. She waved a quick goodbye to Jackson, who gave her a knowing smirk, and muttered to Angela that she’d meet her back at the shop. Her feet carried her to where they'd parked, her fingers already typing as she walked.

Lucy: Okay, shoot

                  Tim: Were you nervous because you're 

                          still afraid of me?

Lucy: No. Absolutely not

She stopped walking, feeling a pang in her chest. She understood why he'd asked—they’d moved fast, especially her. Letting go of so much anger and resentment so quickly. But she needed him to get her fears out of his mind, so without hesitating, she typed back, fast and firm.

Lucy: Truth? I didn't know how to tell 

          you that I'm free tomorrow without 

         seeming overeager…

             Tim: Eager. Really? After last time? 

Lucy: Shut up! Was it a hard conversation?

         Yes. Do we need to talk more? Yes

         absolutely. But… it was.. nice? To

         have your point of view after all this

         time, instead of the narrative I've built

         for myself

              Tim: Well, in that case. I would like to offer

                      you more of that perspective tomorrow. I 

                      could pick you up in the morning? We 

                      could take Kojo to the park? 

Lucy’s cheeks puffed out as she let out a slow breath, tapping her fingers anxiously against her phone. Having him pick her up meant relying on him to get back home, too. If things went poorly, she’d be stuck waiting for a ride share. That was a lot of trust… but then again, last night had been difficult, and they’d handled it well. Besides, if they were really going to move forward, maybe this was a step she needed to take.

Lucy: Ok yeah that sounds nice

               Tim: Great, I'll see you at 9? Have a safe 

                       rest of shift.

Lucy: See you then

- - -

Being in Tim’s truck was… intoxicating. She’d been around him so many times—on patrol, in his house, walking side by side—but this felt different. Here, in the close confines of his truck, there was nowhere to run. His scent filled the space, a warm blend of vanilla, ginger, and maybe… tobacco? There was something else, too, something she couldn’t quite place—something undeniably, unmistakably Tim. Earthy and rich, it was both comforting and sharp, with an edge that reminded her of the faint sheen of sweat after a workout. It wrapped around her, grounding her, steadying her, making her feel as though she belonged right there in that small, enclosed space with him.

She couldn’t help but notice the tiny details that defined him—the faint creases in the seat, the lack of anything personal in the console, not even a coffee cup. Then there were the other things she was trying not to notice, but couldn't ignore, despite really trying to. The way his hands gripped the steering wheel, knuckles flexing with every subtle movement. Her eyes traced the line of the prominent tendon in his hand, leading up his forearm, visible even under his sleeve. She’d felt his strength the other night when she’d hooked her arm through his, but here, confined in the truck, it felt different, intimate, emboldening, almost. Like she'd be doing herself a disservice if she didn’t let herself notice these things.

As they slowed at a red light, Tim glanced over, and Lucy froze, her pulse skyrocketing at the thrill that shot through her as his eyes met hers. She could practically feel the heat bloom across her cheeks, as she realized that he’d caught her staring.

He raised an eyebrow, giving her a knowing smirk that sent her pulse racing even faster. “You good?”

Lucy whipped her head forward, feigning intense interest in the passing scenery as her thoughts raced. She tried to flip her hair over her shoulder nonchalantly, praying her voice sounded normal. “Yep! Mhmm, totally fine.” She forced a casual smile, though her heartbeat was pounding in her ears.

The light turned green, and Tim’s smirk only grew. She swore she felt it hanging in the air between them, that unmistakable glint of amusement he wasn't bothering to hide. And somehow, she was certain he hadn’t taken his eyes off her the whole time.

Get it together, Lucy , she scolded herself. You’re here to talk, not swoon. Think of something. Anything. She glanced back at Kojo, who had his head out the window, his tongue flapping happily in the wind, the picture of bliss.

“Uh, does he… always do that?” she asked, gesturing toward the back seat. Her voice was an octave higher than usual, and she cringed internally, hoping Tim didn’t catch it.

Tim chuckled, clearly not fooled. “Yep. Can’t keep his head inside to save his life.” He glanced at her sideways. “You sure you’re okay?”

She forced herself to look back at him, finally letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Yeah! Just… Kojo’s adorable, that’s all.”

Tim's eyes sparkled with amusement, as if he knew exactly what was going through her mind.

When he finally pulled into a parking spot at the park, Lucy practically launched herself out of the truck, muttering a quiet, “Thank God,” under her breath. She needed air—needed to get away from Tim, or more accurately, those hands of his, which were unfairly captivating.

Outside, the breeze helped clear her head as she took a long, steadying breath. She heard Tim chuckling softly as he walked around to join her, Kojo bounding out of the back with all the enthusiasm of a puppy. Lucy bent to give him a scratch behind the ears, grateful for the brief distraction.

“You in a rush, Chen?” Tim teased, not even trying to hide his amusement. He leaned against the truck, folding his arms as he studied her, his relaxed stance not helping her feel any less flustered. 

She lifted her chin defiantly as she squared her shoulders. “No rush. Just… excited to be here. This park has the best little duck pond.” Her tone was light, but he caught the spark of determination behind it.

Without waiting for a response, she skipped a few steps ahead, practically daring him to keep up, her hair bouncing as she called over her shoulder, “Let’s go, Bradford!” The sudden shift caught him by surprise, and he couldn’t help but smile at her playfulness.

Tim shook his head, but he couldn’t hide his amusement. He trailed after her, just a few steps behind, Kojo bounding eagerly beside him.

As she reached the edge of the path, Lucy spun back to face him, walking backward with a grin. The sun filtered through the trees, the rays hitting her eyes just so, allowing him to see specs of gold in the amber colour of her eyes. She was literally his Sunshine. For a brief second, Tim felt the weight of every fear he'd ever had melt away, replaced by the steady peacefulness of Lucy's light. It was strange, but a part of him felt like it had always been waiting for this. 

“Okay so, here's my plan,” Lucy began holding up one hand and ticking off her list on her fingers one by one with dramatic flair as she continued walking backward. “We are going to go on this walk, we're going to let Kojo have a little rest while I feed the ducks, and then…” she paused for effect, throwing her hands up. “That's it. That's all I've got on my agenda for today.” 

Tim nodded, “okay, easy morning, I like it. What about after?” 

Lucy scrunched her nose in thought, her head tilting just slightly. “After…. We'll just have to see how it goes.” she said with a shrug, clearly pleased with her noncommittal answer.

She stopped walking, effectively stopping Tim as well. Dropping into a crouch, she faced Kojo with a warm smile. “Okay, big guy, sit. Just for a second, all right?” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a couple of treats, offering them to Kojo as he obediently plopped down.

“Lucy,” Tim chided lightly, shaking his head, “you’re going to spoil him.”

She rolled her eyes and ignored him, scratching behind Kojo’s ears before standing again. 

“I want to try something.” She said softly.

Tim’s brows knit together slightly as he studied her, sensing the nervous pulse of her emotions threading through his own. Whatever it was, she was serious. He gave her a small nod, and waited.

Lucy hesitated, the faintest quiver in her hands as she placed them gently on his arms, using him to ground herself. Closing her eyes, she took a deep, centering breath, her shoulders dropping as she exhaled. She focused inward, dipping into the connection that tied them together. Carefully, she began unboxing Tim’s emotions, letting his feelings flow into hers in a slow, controlled stream.

She felt it immediately—his surprise, sharp but not unpleasant, as he realized what she was doing. It was quickly replaced by a warm, steady contentment, and a deep happiness. It settled over her in a way she found comforting, and she allowed herself to savour it for just a moment before pulling back. She didn’t delve deeper, this was enough for now.

Opening her eyes, she tilted her head up to meet his eyes, her lips curving into a triumphant smile. “There,” she said quietly. “I did it. It’s… not so bad.”

Tim studied her for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly, and Lucy felt a ripple of unease, bordering on anxiety, creeping into her consciousness. “Lucy,” he began carefully. “If you’re not ready, you don’t have to push yourself. Please don’t feel like you need to—”

“Tim.” She gently cut him off to get ahead of his concern. She stepped a little closer, searching his eyes with a steady gaze. “I wanted to. It feels… important. I’m okay. Really.”

He didn’t look entirely convinced, but he gave her a small nod, his lips pressing into a thin line. She could feel his protective instincts warring with his respect for her boundaries, and it made her heart ache in the best way. He cared—deeply. But he was learning to trust her, the same way she was learning to trust herself.

Lucy turned toward the trail, her hand lingering on his arm for a moment before she began to walk. “Should we…?” she asked, glancing back at him.

Tim hesitated for a beat, then fell into step beside her, Kojo trotting eagerly ahead. The gravel crunched under their feet, and Lucy focused on the rhythmic sound, grounding herself.

Lucy glanced at him, her thoughts swirling until one finally spilled out. “Can I ask… why is it so important to you that I experience my feelings again?”

Tim tilted his head toward her, considering her question. He let out a thoughtful hum before speaking. “Aside from the fact that you have every right to?” His lips curved into a faint smile. “I guess it goes back to my time in the military. During basic training, they evaluate you on your ability to compartmentalize. Certain people get flagged for review.”

“Based on how well you performed on the evaluation?” she asked.

“Exactly,” Tim confirmed. “It’s a big indicator of leadership potential. The higher your ability to compartmentalize, the higher rank you’re considered capable of achieving. But…” He sighed, his shoulders tensing slightly. “I’ve seen what it does to people. How it changes them. It’s slow, subtle at first, but over time, they lose themselves. They suppress so much of what makes them who they are that they lose themselves entirely.” 

Lucy watched him, her heart twisting at how utterly bereft he was feeling. “You don’t want that to happen to me,” she said quietly, more a statement than a question.

Tim shrugged, shaking his head slightly. “No. I can’t stand the thought of it.”

The way he set his jaw, the sincerity that he said it, caught her off guard.

She hesitated, then asked, “How did you do? On the evaluation?”

His brows furrowed slightly. “Not bad, I suppose. I made Sergeant before I left. But I never had any interest in going higher than that.”

“Why not?” she pressed, her curiosity piqued.

“A couple of reasons,” He said thoughtfully, “But first and foremost… I didn’t want to do anything that might negatively affect you.”

“Oh.” Lucy’s cheeks burned as her guilt bubbled up, and she suddenly found her feet fascinating. Of course, there was no hiding from someone who could literally feel her emotions.

“Hey, stop,” Tim said gently. He reached out, his fingers brushing briefly against her own. “You did what you had to do to protect yourself. It’s okay.”

She glanced up at him, her eyes wide, but before she could respond, he continued. “And besides, these past few weeks… you’ve been different. I can feel it. You’re putting in the work to unlearn those instincts, and it’s not easy.” He gave a small, self-conscious laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “It feels like you're becoming Sunshine again. I’m… proud of you.”

Lucy blinked rapidly, swallowing the sudden lump in her throat. “Thanks, Tim,” she murmured.

Tim reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a small packet of M&Ms. He tore the corner off with his teeth, the crinkle of the wrapper breaking the momentary silence. “M&M?” he offered, holding the packet out to her.

She gave a soft laugh, shaking her head as she waved him off. “No, thanks. I’m good.”

He pulled his hand back and poured a small handful into his palm. His fingers idly rattled the candy, the tiny clicks oddly rhythmic. “They don’t melt, you know,” he said suddenly.

Lucy tilted her head in question. “The candy?”

Tim nodded, his eyes fixed on the colorful pieces in his hand. “Yeah. They don’t melt. When I was a kid, I used to hide them in my pockets so my dad wouldn’t find them. They didn’t melt, so it made it easy to sneak them home.”

She reached out instinctively to hold his arm, and pull herself closer to him. “Tim,” she said gently, “I’m so sorry your dad was so hard on you. You didn’t deserve that. No child does.”

He shrugged, dismissing her concern, but she still caught the tension in his shoulders. “S’okay,” he murmured. He hesitated, his fingers still playing with the candy. “I had a friend who helped me through. He’s the one who’d sneak me the candy. The wrappers were too loud, so he’d help me pour them straight into my pocket.”

Lucy’s lips parted, but no words came at first. She could only stare at him, her heart breaking for the boy he’d been. “That friend sounds like they really cared about you,” she said softly.

Tim’s lips twitched into a faint smile, but there was a flicker of pain behind it. “Yeah, he did. He… made a tough situation feel a little less impossible.”

“He's the one who died, isn't he?” She asked, though, she suspected she already knew the answer.

Tim’s jaw tightened slightly, and he nodded.

Lucy didn’t miss the way his hand closed over the candy, like he was holding onto a piece of that memory. She felt a surge of protectiveness, a fierce desire to take all that hurt he’d buried away and replace it with something better.

Without thinking, she slipped her hand from his arm down to his hand and interlaced their fingers, giving a squeeze. Tim froze staring at their joined hands for a moment, before turning the corner of his mouth up into a lopsided smile. 

They walked hand in hand for a while, enjoying the fresh air and the silliness of Kojo who absolutely needed to stop and sniff everything. 

“You know,” mused Tim. “I don't really know much about your life growing up. Aside from that one projection early on, you never really did it again until you were older. What's your family like?” He asked. 

Lucy hesitated for just a moment, unsure of how much she was ready to share. She glanced down at their joined hands, drawing strength from his warmth, and decided to jump in feet first. “Umm… not much to tell, really. I don’t have the best relationship with my parents. No siblings. But I do have an aunt—she’s amazing. She always looked out for me when I was a kid, you know? Made sure I felt… seen. But mostly… I just have Jackson.”

Tim hummed, his thumb brushing against hers absentmindedly. “You and Jackson seem close.”

Lucy nodded, her lips curving into a small smile. “Yeah, we’ve been friends since we were kids. He’s… he’s like my brother, honestly. Always has been. Actually, he was probably with me on that day I projected.” She paused, biting her lip, then added more quietly, “And he really helped me after. Umm… after you married Isabel.”

Tim stopped walking. His hand tightened around hers, just enough to make her pause and look up at him. His brow furrowed, “Lucy…” he started, his voice hesitant.

She shook her head quickly, cutting him off with a small, sad smile. “It’s okay. I’m not trying to bring that up to make you feel bad or anything. I just… I guess I’m saying that Jackson’s always been there for me, through everything. And back then, I really needed someone.”

Tim studied her for a moment, his eyes searching hers. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “For… all of it. For being part of the reason you needed someone like that in the first place.”

Lucy's chest tightened and her stomach churned at the guilt and shame he was feeling. His emotions only served to amplify her own, and despite her best efforts, her eyes began to sting. “You were living your life.” She shrugged, “There's no...”  She pinched the bridge of her nose with her free hand, and cleared her throat, but still couldn't stop her voice from trembling. “There's no rule that says you need to wait for your Soulmate. It's… expected, but there's not.. and you found someone to love, and who loved you. So it—” 

Tim squeezed her hand tighter—not enough to hurt, never to hurt, but enough to get her attention. “Lucy stop, please.” He begged. “Please, it wasn't like that.” He took a deep breath, fighting against Lucy's emotions which—for how sad and bleak they were—were raging within him, and desperately trying to reign in his own guilt, just enough so he could think clearly, long enough to explain. 

He spotted a little makeshift bench just a little ways up the trail. “Come with me.” He said, tugging her hand and quickly walking toward the bench, tapping his leg in command for Kojo to follow them. 

He sat down motioning for her to join him. She hesitated for a fraction of a second before sitting beside him, her knees brushing his as he turned to face her fully. 

He took both of her hands in his own, his thumbs making small circles over her knuckles. He tried to make himself smaller, tilting his head to look deeply into her eyes to really make sure she understood what he was going to say. “Lucy. I have lived my entire life in service of others, to my own detriment. My mother, my country, my city, you—though I know it doesn't seem like it. I did love Isabel, I can't deny it, and I won't because I know you felt it.. but.. it wasn't.. umm.” 

He hung his head, clenching his eyes together, frustrated as he struggled to find the right words. “I-I don't think it was that kind of love from fairytales. I loved her, but I wasn't i-in love with her? But I knew that I didn't deserve more.. shit this isn't coming out right..” 

He had an idea, and it was probably one of the worst ones he'd ever had but it was the only way he could think to explain. “Lucy, can I tell you about Isabel? Maybe then it'll make some kind of sense?” 

He could feel her hurt, see it on her face, but slowly, slowly he felt it fade into something just a little less. Maybe it was because she could feel his anxiety, maybe it was because she truly was the purest soul he'd ever met. Either way, he breathed a deep sigh of relief when she nodded her head. 

Tim took a deep breath and cleared his throat. “Okay, um quick backstory I guess. So Will, my friend—he enlisted with me. He'd had my back growing up and said he'd have my back overseas too. We went through basic training together, drafted to the same base, everything. We were lucky. He ended up finding his soulmate there—a field medic in training. Before our first tour, they got married. Figured they were already soulmates, so why wait? They wanted that connection before he left.”

Lucy listened intently, her hands still in his, but she tightened her grip slightly. She could feel the warmth and nostalgia as he told her his story, but it was mottled by a deep sadness. Her chest ached with it, but she didn’t interrupt, letting him set the pace.

Tim glanced down at their joined hands, grounding himself before continuing. “Just before our second tour, I got promoted to Sergeant. Officially, Will was under my command. That… changed things. I was making decisions that didn’t just affect me anymore—they affected him and the rest of my team. For a while, it was going well. I was good at it.”

Lucy felt the faintest flicker of pride radiate from him, but it was fleeting, quickly replaced by something darker. Regret. Guilt. She braced herself as he pressed on.

“One day, we were overseeing a supply delivery to a nearby village. I was going through the manifest and noticed a small discrepancy. Nothing big, but enough to catch my attention. At first, I thought it was just a mistake, but then it kept happening. So I started digging, trying to figure out what was going on and who was behind it.”

Tim’s voice dropped, and Lucy could feel the frustration mounting within him, still tinged with guilt.

“It turned out one of the men in my regiment was taking things from each shipment and selling them. But it wasn’t just him—it was a whole operation, people working together to line their pockets, taking back what they thought they deserved.” He paused, his jaw tightening. “The guy involved was just a kid. Fresh out of training, barely more than a teenager. I thought… I thought I could fix it. I tried to set him straight, to get him to feed me information so I could shut the whole thing down.”

Lucy could feel the swell of hope he’d felt at the belief that he could make it right. But that hope turned quickly into bitterness, and she felt her throat tighten in response.

“I pushed too hard,” Tim admitted, his voice breaking slightly. “A few days later, we took on friendly fire. They weren’t just trying to scare us—they were cleaning up loose ends. I lost… almost all of my men that night. Including Will.”

Lucy’s breath hitched, the anguish roiling deep in her chest almost overwhelming. It wasn’t just grief—it was guilt, a crushing, suffocating weight Tim had been carrying for years. She pulled her hands free of his wrapping her arms around his shoulders, and pulled him into a hug. 

Tim continued talking, though he was whispering now. “The irony is, the night before… I promised Will I’d take care of his soulmate if anything ever happened to him.”

Tim reluctantly pulled back, though he reached for Lucy's hand once more. “I think, by now you can guess that Isabel was Will’s soulmate?” 

Lucy nodded, though she couldn't help her own pang of sadness—not just for Will and Isabel, but for Tim too. 

Tim swallowed hard, forcing himself to continue. “After the funeral, I went to see her every day. Some days, it was just to make sure she ate something. Other days, it was to do things around the house, like mow the lawn or fix the leaky faucet she’d been ignoring. It took months before she could smile again, and a few more weeks before she laughed.”

He paused, his lips twitching into the faintest of smiles. “I was painting the shutters on her house when I tripped over the ladder and knocked the paint can over. It went everywhere—on me, the ground, the porch. I was covered in white paint from head to toe. I walked over to her literally white as a damn sheet, and that’s when she started laughing.”

Lucy felt the faint flicker of mirth he associated with that memory, and it made her heart ache all the more. “To hear her laugh again… it was such a beautiful sound, like music. After that day, going to see her felt less like an obligation to Will and more like something I wanted to do—for her and for myself.”

Tim’s voice softened even further, and Lucy could feel the pain threading through his words, the conflict he still carried. “She’s the one who suggested we get married. It wasn’t done with any malicious intent. It was just… we were both so broken, Lucy. A-and she knew..” He hesitated, his grip on her hand tightening. “She knew how important you were to me. She knew how much I cared for you, even then. But.. she also knew that I had no intentions of actively trying to find you either. Not after what happened.”

His head dropped, and Lucy felt the shame roll off him in waves. It mingled with her own sadness at his confession. She reached out, brushing her free hand against his arm, trying to ground him in the moment, but her own tears welled up in spite of herself.

“Lucy,” he started again, his voice cracking, “I as good as pulled the trigger on the men who died that day. They’re all dead because of me. Will is dead because of me. And I didn’t want that for you. I didn’t want you to know me, to know the kind of person I was, to feel that weight. But Isabel already knew. She knew who I was, and she accepted that failure. We were both just so broken, Lucy.”

Tim looked up, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. Lucy could feel the sheer force of his sorrow, the way he carried it on his shoulders. “So, as my final act of honoring Will, I gave you up. I told myself it was the right thing to do—that you deserved better than someone like me, someone so broken. And then I made a vow: to keep making Isabel laugh, to care for her and love her in the way Will would have, for the rest of my life.”

Lucy’s chest tightened at his words, a painful mix of empathy and heartbreak overwhelming her. She could feel the truth in his emotions—the way he’d convinced himself he was doing the right thing, even as it tore him apart. She squeezed his hand, tears streaming down her face, her own emotions bleeding into his. 

Tim reached up, brushing a tear from her cheek with a thumb. “I never wanted to hurt you, Lucy. Not then, not now. But I need you to know… there hasn’t been a single day that I haven’t thought about you, that I haven’t regretted letting you go.” 

Lucy bit her lip, her shoulders trembling as she tried to hold back a sob. “All this time… I-I thought it was me. I thought it was my fault. Even my parents—they said it had to be something I did, that I wasn’t good enough…”

Tim froze, horror flashing across his face. The wave of anguish she felt from him made her breath catch. “My God,” he whispered, his voice breaking. He lowered his forehead to hers, his hands coming up to cradle her face. “Lucy, I didn’t know. I swear, I didn’t know what would happen to you. I’m so sorry, Lucy. I’m so sorry.”

He pressed his lips against her hair, then he kissed her forehead, her cheeks, the delicate skin just under her eyes, catching the tears as they fell. With each press of his lips, he murmured, “I’m sorry,” the words spilling from him over and over.

Pulling her into his arms, he held her close in a long hug. Lucy clung to him, her face buried against his chest, her tears soaking into his shirt. The world seemed to fade away as they shared the unfiltered emotions flowing between them. Guilt, remorse, relief, hope—it was all laid bare within their bond.

A disgruntled snuff broke the moment, making both of them startle slightly. Tim pulled back just enough to look at her, softening at the watery laugh that escaped her lips. She swiped at her cheeks with the back of her hand, shaking her head. “Looks like someone’s tired of waiting for us,” she said, glancing at Kojo, who was staring at them expectantly.

Tim let out a quiet chuckle. “Yeah… I guess we should keep moving before he stages a protest.”

He stood, offering her his hand. Lucy took it, their fingers intertwining naturally, and as she rose, she felt the lingering warmth of his emotions—his regret, his relief, his care—still coursing through her. It steadied her, even as her heart ached.

“Listen…” she began hesitantly. “I know we still have a lot to talk about, but… can we just walk for a while? This was a lot, and I just… I need some time to come down from it all.”

She worried at her bottom lip out of habit, suddenly nervous that he might not understand, that asking for emotional space might be too much after what they'd just shared.

Except she needn't have worried because Tim was quick to reassure her. “Of course, Lucy. Whatever you need.”

Relief washed over her, and she offered him a small, grateful smile as they resumed their walk, their hands still intertwined. The trail stretched ahead, and Kojo bounded forward, his tail wagging furiously as he darted to and fro, sniffing at everything in his path. He’d dart ahead and then turn back, making sure they were still there.

Tim’s thoughts, however, weren’t on the trail or even on Kojo. He couldn't believe how much ground they'd just covered. Years of miscommunication, cracked wide open in a single conversation. He couldn't shake the gnawing regret though. If only he'd had the courage to try and find some way to explain it back then. If he hadn't had his head shoved so far up his ass, and had tried to find her… Maybe then they wouldn't have lost so much time. Maybe then-

“Tim.” 

Startled, he blinked, and turned his head sharply down to Lucy. “Hmm?” 

“You’re okay,” Lucy soothed, as her emotions radiated calm and reassurance through their bond. “You’re thinking too much—I can feel it. Just… relax.” She squeezed his hand gently, then wrapped her free arm around his.

He exhaled, guilt flickering through him again. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I was just… thinking I guess. If I’m too much for you, if you need to box me again.. I can help you come out of it later.” 

“Shh, Tim.” She looked up at him softly, stopping him before he could spiral further. “I don’t want that. Just… be here with me, okay?”

Lucy took a deep breath, and through their connection, Tim felt the deliberate wave of calm she sent his way. It was warm and steady, like sunshine, and he couldn’t help but smile as she rested her head against his arm.

“Someday,” he said, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, “you’ll have to teach me how you do that so easily.”

They wandered the trails for nearly an hour, and Tim let himself sink into the peace of it, savouring the way Lucy’s presence wrapped around him. She wasn’t actively pushing that calming wave through their bond anymore, but the echoes of it lingered. She was content, and happy—happy just to be with him—and selfishly, he reveled in it. Feeling her like this was something he never thought he’d get to experience, at least not because of him.

Eventually, they reached the lake, the water glittering in the sunlight. Tim watched as Lucy pulled a small blanket from her bag, spreading it out carefully on the grass before producing a tupperware container filled with cut grapes and pieces of melon.

She grinned up at him, and tugged him down to sit beside her. Tim settled in, but not before reaching into the container to pluck a piece of melon. He popped it into his mouth, feigning innocence as he chewed.

“Hey!” Lucy laughed, swatting his shoulder. “Those are for the ducks!”

He leaned away, a wide grin breaking across his face as he let out a hearty chuckle. “What? I’m hungry!”

Lucy rolled her eyes, and gave him a playful shove. “Then we'll stop for lunch when we're done!”

“Oh, really?” Tim drawled, raising an eyebrow. “That’s a pretty big assumption you’re making there. What makes you think I’m available?”

She squinted at him, lips pursed in challenge. “Am I wrong?”

He smirked, leaning back on his hands. “No. My whole day’s free. But I could have had plans, you know.” 

She grinned, “Oh sure you could.” 

Tim watched her as she tossed fruit to the ducks, a soft smile tugging at his lips. Her laughter rang out when Kojo barked too loudly, sending the nearby ducks scattering in a flurry of feathers and indignant quacks. She reached out to pat his head, giggling again when the dog huffed proudly.

This was her, his Sunshine, in all her radiant, untamed beauty. Whenever he'd imagined his soulmate—though he'd never allowed himself to dwell on it for long—he’d pictured someone who balanced him. Someone joyful, someone whose warmth could reach the parts of him he’d hidden away.

She was beautiful.

“I like seeing you like this,” he said softly, unable to hold the thought back any longer.

Lucy turned toward him, her brows drawing together in mild confusion. “Like what?”

“Happy,” he clarified, shifting slightly on the blanket. He hesitated for a moment, then decided to dive in. “Lucy, I want this.” He gestured between them, including Kojo in the sweep of his hand. “I know we still have a lot of work to do. And a lot more to talk about. But… you being happy? That’s all I’ve ever wanted. I thought I’d never get to be the one to give you that. But if you’ll let me… I want to try.”

Lucy picked up a piece of fruit, rolling it between her fingers before tossing it into the water. She watched as a duck eagerly snapped it up, using the moment to gather her thoughts. “It’s… certainly a lot easier spending time with you than I thought it would be.”

Tim’s heart sank slightly, worried that he’d pushed too hard, too soon. “But…?”

She shook her head quickly. “No buts. I just… I might need you to be patient with me. I’m still relearning who I am, and… I want to be my best self for you.” Her voice wavered slightly as she added, “That one relationship I was in… it wasn’t healthy. Mostly it was him trying to change me, mold me into something I wasn’t. And… before that, well… maybe since that, too…”

She trailed off, holding her fingers up in mock quotations. “I guess you could say I ‘got around.’ I’m… tainted, Tim. I just don’t want you to think you’re getting the prized horse.”

He could feel the undercurrent of shame and disgust she tried to push away. Tim quickly shifted to his knees and shuffled closer to her. He reached out, tilting her chin up with gentle fingers so she’d look at him.

“Hey,” he said firmly. “You are not tainted, Lucy. You were… lonely . You were surviving the only way you knew how. And whatever you did to cope with that loneliness, I will never, ever hold it against you.”

Her breath hitched, and he saw the tears swimming in her eyes.

“You are not broken, and you are not less than,” he continued softly. “Do you know what I see when I look at you? I see someone who is brave, who kept going when life tried to knock her down. I see someone who’s kind, who’s strong, and who deserves all the happiness this world can give. And if I can be part of giving you that, even in the smallest way, then I’ll do it every single day for the rest of my life.”

A tear slipped down her cheek, and Tim caught it with his thumb before it could fall further.

“Tim…” she whispered, her voice trembling.

“I mean it,” he said, “I don’t care about your past, Lucy. I care about you . Here. Now. And I will wait as long as you need, but I need you to know… you are worth it. You always have been.”

Chapter Text

Tim dropped Lucy home later that afternoon. They’d spent nearly all day together—first at the park, then at a little sandwich shop Tim knew of, before finally ending up back at his house.

It was strange how natural it felt. Conversation between them flowed easily, even when they tackled harder topics. Being in his space, surrounded by things that were so distinctly him—even if there wasn’t much—was a little overwhelming. Yet, somehow, it also felt right.

When they’d stepped inside, Tim had casually told her to make herself at home, and he’d meant it. She could tell by the way he didn’t hover or second-guess her presence. He wanted her there. And she had, almost without thinking.

After finishing their food, Lucy had plopped herself on the floor next to Kojo. But not before reaching into her bag and pulling out a few scraps of yellow yarn and a darning needle.

“What are you doing?” Tim had asked, his head tilted in curiosity as he watched her settle in.

She’d shrugged casually, glancing at Kojo’s blanket. “I noticed it’s getting frayed in a few places. Figured I’d reinforce it before a hole starts.”

He’d blinked in surprise, watching her hands deftly stitch the edges. “Wait… you made that for him?”

She’d looked up, her lips quirking into a small, amused smile. “What? Did you think I just bought it?”

“Uh, yeah,” he admitted, his voice tinged with disbelief. “I didn’t realize…”

The conversation had faded after that, but the moment lingered with him. It wasn’t just the blanket—it was what it represented. The care, the thoughtfulness she put into even the smallest things. And the fact that she’d done it for him, or at least for a part of his life, without expecting anything in return, especially at a time when they didn't know each other outside of their TO/Rookie relationship. 

Sitting there in his house, Kojo happily sprawled across her lap, Lucy had felt a sense of peace she hadn’t realized she’d been missing. Knowing she was wanted by Tim—truly wanted—changed something fundamental within her.

It scared her, honestly. How quickly this connection was forming, how deeply she felt it. Maybe it was too soon to feel this way, but being near Tim, spending time with him, felt like regaining a piece of herself she hadn’t even known was missing.

She couldn’t help but worry, though, about how much of herself she was already giving over. Would it be too much? Was this what it felt like to fall too hard, too fast? A quiet voice in the back of her mind whispered that she should call Jackson. Ask him if he’d felt this way when he first met Gino, if everything felt too big, too fast, and yet somehow inevitable.

But then her thoughts shifted to the practicalities of their new… what? Dynamic? Relationship? Situationship? Whatever it was, it would certainly make work interesting.

Lopez was due to go on vacation in a couple of days, which meant Tim would be stepping back in as her TO. The thought made her stomach flutter with equal parts excitement and anxiety. How would they navigate this? Would it change the way he taught? Would it change the way she learned?

She shook her head, trying to push those thoughts aside for now. It wasn’t the time to overanalyze. For once, she wanted to let herself enjoy the moment of everything.

Still, as Tim pulled up in front of her building, she hesitated before getting out of the truck.

“Thanks for today,” she said softly, glancing over at him.

Tim turned to her, “It was my pleasure, Lucy. Thank you for spending time with me.” He said warmly. “Can I walk you up?” 

She smiled, and nodded. “I'd like that.” 

They walked slowly, neither really wanting their day together to end. When they reached her door, they lingered. Tim shoved his hands into his pockets, rocking back slightly on his heels. “Enjoy the rest of your time off,” he said, almost hesitant. “I’ll see you at work, okay?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” She smiled, and before she could overthink it, she pushed up on her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. It was quick, but the way his eyes softened when she pulled back made her heart stutter.

“Goodnight, Tim,” she whispered, stepping back and unlocking her door.

Once inside, Lucy leaned back against the door, her heart hammering in her chest. A slow, giddy smile spread across her face, and she couldn’t help it—she let out a quiet, gleeful squeal. Throwing her hands into the air, she launched herself onto her couch, laughing softly as she kicked her feet in the air like a lovestruck teenager.

She hummed softly as she puttered through her apartment, the day’s events playing over and over in her mind. As she changed into her pajamas and brushed her hair, little moments would resurface—the tenderness of Tim’s kisses against her face, the way his lips lingered just long enough to make her heart ache. Or the quiet, adoring smile he wore while watching her laugh with Kojo.

Every time she remembered, a little flutter bloomed in her belly, a giddy, uncontrollable giggle spilling out of her before she could stop it. And then, just as quickly, a thrill would run through her, a ripple of warmth and happiness that wasn’t hers alone. She froze the first time she felt it, her breath catching as she realized it was coming from him.

Tim.

Even now, miles apart, he was there—feeling her joy, sharing it, amplifying it. The connection between them pulsed alive between them, a soft hum of mirth and contentment that made her smile so wide it hurt.

She clutched her hands to her chest, letting the emotions wash over her. “You’re such a sap, Lucy.” she whispered, laughing to herself as she padded into her bedroom.

- - -

Lucy sighed, setting her hairbrush down on the vanity and resting her chin in her hand. “God, I just… I feel like I’m losing my mind. He’s just… he’s so different with me, you know? Not the gruff, hard-ass persona he puts up at work. With me, he’s…” She broke off, giggling slightly and feeling a flicker of guilt for even thinking it. “Honestly, he’s a softy.”

Jackson’s indignant snort echoed through the speakerphone. “A softy? Now that’s something I never thought I’d hear to describe Tim Bradford.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight the grin spreading across her face. “Jackson, I’m being serious here. I know it’s all going kind of fast, but I don’t want to hold back anymore. I don’t want to cling to grudges or let old wounds define everything. I want to… I don’t know… let the past stay in the past and try to move forward. Obviously, stuff will come up, that's only natural, but I feel like we deserve this. We deserve a chance to see what we can be now that we actually know who we are to each other.”

She could hear Jackson sigh on the other end of the line, followed by a long stretch of silence. It was enough to make her stomach twist with nerves.

“You think I’m going too fast, don’t you?” Lucy asked, disappointed. She picked at the edge of her vanity, her earlier excitement dimming. “I was actually going to ask you about Gino—if it felt this quick when you found each other. Like, did it feel overwhelming? Or crazy? Or like it was just… right? I guess… I just feel like everything is finally clicking into place, and I don’t want to mess it up by second-guessing myself. Does that make sense?”

Lucy’s fingers stilled as Jackson’s gentle voice came through the speakerphone. “Okay, take a breath, Luce. You’re okay. I don’t think you’re moving too fast,” he reassured. “But listen to me—you can’t compare yourself to me and Gino, or Angela and Wes, or anyone else for that matter. Every soulmate story is unique. Everyone’s path looks different. It’s not up to me, or anyone else, to decide if it’s moving too fast. What matters is how you feel.”

Lucy let out a slow breath, her fingers absently tracing the edge of her vanity again. “I feel…” She paused, trying to find the words buried in the swirl of her emotions. “I feel like I want to know him. Really know him, Jackson. Not just the pieces I’ve seen, or the fleeting moments we've experienced here and there. I want to know all of him. And I want him to know me, too. The real me.”

Her voice softened, a small, wistful smile tugging at her lips. “He makes me feel things I didn’t think I could anymore. Things I’d forgotten how to feel. Safe. Seen. Cared for. And it’s not just about the bond… it’s him. It’s who he is when we’re together. And… it’s a really beautiful thing, you know?” She laughed softly, her shoulders relaxing for the first time since they’d started the conversation. “It's scary though.” she admitted. 

“It’s supposed to be scary,” Jackson said. “Just take it one step at a time, okay? Don’t overthink it. Let yourself feel what you’re feeling.”

- - -

By mutual agreement, Lucy and Tim had decided not to see each other before their next set of shifts, opting instead to give themselves some space to process everything. But that didn’t stop them from texting, or calling, each other.

Lucy quickly learned that Tim was an early riser, even on his days off. Every morning, at least an hour before she woke up, her phone buzzed with a simple “Good morning”. It made her smile every time. She’d reply groggily, often still wrapped in her blankets, while he was already halfway through his second cup of coffee or walking Kojo.

Evenings were reserved for phone calls, where they’d talk until one of them couldn’t keep their eyes open any longer. Their conversations were usually only filled with small details about their day, rarely dipping into deeper territory. Overall, it was nice, comfortable.

The night before their next shift, Tim’s voice was a warm rumble in her ear. “I’m looking forward to seeing you tomorrow.”

Lucy smiled shyly, “Me too. Hopefully, we’ll both have quiet days, and maybe we could have lunch together?”

He chuckled softly, the sound sending a warm flutter through her chest. “Pretty sure you just jinxed us, Chen, but yeah. I’d like that. Text me where you are just before noon. We’ll coordinate.”

“Deal.”

- - -

As it turns out, Lucy did, in fact, jinx them—or at least herself.

The morning started off easy. Tim had arrived with coffee in hand, just the way she liked it: sickeningly sweet. He’d teased her about her taste, but his smirk softened when he handed it over.

They were riding separately today. It was Angela’s last day before her big vacation with Wesley, and Tim was using the opportunity to reacclimate to day shift.

For most of the morning, Tim buried himself in paperwork, his focus broken only by the occasional officer stopping by to wish him well back on day shift. Everything seemed fine…

…Until an overwhelming wave of dread made him freeze mid-sentence. His heart pounded, his breath hitched, and for a second, he couldn’t think straight.

Lucy.

His grip on his pen tightened so much it threatened to snap, but he didn’t care. The panic intensified, drowning him in fear that wasn’t his own. His vision blurred for a moment, and when it cleared, he wasn’t in the station anymore.

He was looking down at Lucy’s hand as it hovered over her abdomen. There was a needle—a dirty, rusted thing—protruding from her side. He was vaguely aware of Angela’s voice, calm and steady as she pulled on gloves, carefully reaching for the needle. Lucy flinched, her panic spiking again, and Tim felt it—sharp and gut-wrenching.

And then he was back, gasping as the station’s fluorescent lights came back into focus.

His radio was in his hand before he even realized he’d grabbed it. “7-Adam-7, this is Bradford. Angela, what trauma center are you going to?” He didn't care how demanding he seemed, he didn't care that every other officer on the radio could hear him.

Angela's reply was immediate, but it didn’t feel fast enough. “Officer Chen and I are en route to Cedars.”

“Copy,” Tim said tightly, already moving. He barely heard his own voice. He could still feel echoes of Lucy’s panic, though it was fading now, replaced by a fragile sort of calm. Likely Angela’s doing, he thought grimly. He clung to that thread of reassurance as he bolted for the door.

Was it bad form to take a shop with no intention of real police work? Probably. Did he care? Absolutely not. Because he screamed out of the sally port with lights and sirens. He took deep measured breaths as he drove. Lucy didn't need his panic on top of her own. 

Was it bad form to take a shop with no intention of doing real police work? Probably. Did he care? Absolutely not. He slammed the gearshift into drive and roared out of the sally port with lights and sirens blaring. He clenched his jaw, and was gripping the wheel hard enough to make his knuckles ache.

Breathe. He forced himself to take deep, measured breaths to shove his panic aside. Lucy didn’t need his fear compounding her own. She needed him steady. Reliable.

He made it to Cedars in record time, picking a spot at random to park—legal or not. He ran straight to the nurses station where he was quickly directed to a private room, and he took off down the hall without a second thought.

Only when he stopped outside the door did he finally take a moment to collect himself. He peeked through the narrow window and spotted Angela. Relief surged through him. Good. Lucy’s not alone.

Then he saw Lucy. She was sitting on the bed, her legs swinging nervously, eyes glued to her phone. Her expression was guarded, but he knew her well enough to spot the anxiety lurking just beneath the surface.

He tapped lightly on the door before pushing it open.

Lucy’s head snapped up, her phone forgotten as her eyes locked on him. The tension in her shoulders melted almost instantly. “Tim,” she breathed, relief flooding her voice.

“Hey,” he said softly, crossing the room in a few quick strides. Without hesitation, he wrapped her in his arms, pulling her close.

She melted into him, her hands clutching at his back. They clung to each other for a long moment, her heart beating against his chest. For the first time since he’d felt her panic, his own began to ebb.

When he finally pulled back, he cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing gently over her cheeks. “You need to stop doing this to me,” he said, his voice low and serious but no less affectionate. “I’m old, you know. Can’t afford to have a trouble magnet for a soulmate.”

A watery laugh escaped her, and she swatted lightly at his arm. “You’re not that old,” she murmured. “And it’s not like I plan this stuff.”

Tim smirked, but his eyes softened. “Just… try to give me a break, okay? My heart can only take so much.”

Lucy nodded, her lips trembling slightly as she tried to smile. “I’ll do my best.”

“Good,” he teased, though the way he tucked her hair behind her ear was impossibly tender. “Now, tell me what happened.”

Lucy’s shoulders slumped, and her gaze dropped to her lap. “It was my fault,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I got too close. I-I didn’t see it coming.”

“Bullshit, Boot,” Angela cut in, her sharp voice slicing through Lucy’s guilt.

Tim’s head snapped toward her, his protective instincts bristling. Angela waved casually from her spot by the wall, entirely unbothered. “Yeah, hi. Still here,” she said with a dramatic roll of her eyes. “And God, you two are disgusting. Honestly, it’s nauseating.”

Tim shot her a look that was equal parts annoyance and amusement, but Lucy’s quiet laugh was what drew his attention back to her. He could feel the flicker of warmth through their bond, though it was faint, dampened by the weight of her guilt.

Angela crossed her arms and leaned against the wall. “Listen, we were called out to a homeless encampment. A fight broke out, and Lucy got caught up in the tangle. Could’ve happened to anyone. Even me. She just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Lucy glanced up, her eyes searching Angela’s face for any trace of insincerity. “But I—”

“Nope,” Angela interrupted, holding up a hand. “Don’t start. You’re not taking the blame for something you couldn’t control. Trust me, Lucy. It wasn’t your fault.”

Lucy managed a small smile, her fingers tightening around Tim’s. “Okay,” she murmured.

A knock on the door followed by a quiet “knock, knock.” 

“Gino” Lucy breathed another sigh of relief. “Nice to see a familiar face.” 

“Hey, Lucy-girl,” Gino greeted warmly, stepping into the room. He set a small container on the bed beside her and pulled on a pair of gloves. “Alright, so I’m going to draw some blood, okay? We’re running tests for all the usual suspects when dealing with dirty needles—just routine.”

Lucy nodded, her eyes flicking briefly to Tim, whose arm tightened protectively around her waist.

Gino swabbed her arm with an alcohol pad, prepping the vials with a reassuring smile. “Okay, make a fist for me. Good—little pinch, and… here we go.”

Tim leaned in closer, his lips brushing against Lucy’s hair as he whispered softly, “Almost done.”

The warmth of his presence helped to steady her nerves, even as Gino deftly filled the vials.

Within moments, Gino removed the tourniquet and pressed a cotton swab against her arm. “There we go—all done,” he said with a smile, securing the site with a small piece of tape.

“Thanks, Gino,” Lucy said

“No problem,” he replied as he packed up his supplies. “We’re putting a rush on your labs, but it’ll still take some time for the results to come back. Once they do,” he paused to glance at her chart, “Dr. Mackenzie will be in to discuss next steps with you.”

Tim's heart began to race, his pulse thundering in his ears so loudly he didn't notice Gino leave. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Of all the doctors in LA, it had to be his ex-wife.

From the corner of the room, Angela began to laugh, softly at first, but it quickly escalated into full-blown, almost maniacal cackling.

“Oh man, Bradford, you are so screwed,” she said, doubling over. “This is too good. I can’t wait to see this!”

Tim shot her a warning glare. “Shouldn’t you be getting back to the station?”

Angela straightened, wiping tears from her eyes. “And miss this? Not a chance. I’m gonna go find some popcorn and settle in for the show.”

Tim made a low sound—a growl, really—that only made Angela laugh harder.

“Fine, fine,” she said, holding up her hands in mock surrender. “I assume you’re calling out for the rest of the day?”

At his terse nod, she smirked. “Okay. I’ll take both of your duty belts back to the station and bring you some clothes to change into. But…” she paused at the door, pointing a warning finger at both of them, “if Isabel gets here before I do, you better make her wait. I want front-row seats.”

“You’re not funny,” Tim called after her as she left the room.

From the hallway, Angela’s voice rang out: “Wesley thinks I’m hilarious!”

Tim sighed, running a hand over his face. He turned back to Lucy, who was watching him with a bemused expression.

“It’s not funny!” he protested, though the corners of his mouth twitched.

Lucy tilted her head, her lips curving into a teasing smile. “It’s… a little funny,” she said, drawing out the words with a playful lilt.

Tim pointed a finger at her, narrowing his eyes in mock accusation. “You. Are trouble,” he said, his voice low, but there was no mistaking the warmth in his tone.

Lucy leaned back against the pillows, crossing her arms daring him to deny it. “Hmm. You like it,” she replied with a casual shrug.

Tim huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “That’s not the point.”

“Mhmm.” Lucy exhaled slowly, her nerves finally breaking through the thin veil of humor she’d been holding onto. “Okay, I need you to distract me while we wait. What can we do?”

Tim tilted his head, one brow arching suggestively. “I mean… I know what I’d want to do.”

Lucy swatted his chest, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. “Stop it.” But her teasing quickly faded, replaced by something more uncertain. “I know… I know most soulmates do… that. Right away. I've heard the rumors about what happens when the bond solidifies. I just… I want…” She hesitated, biting her lip. “I want our first time to be… special, you know?”

Tim’s teasing smirk softened instantly. He leaned forward, tilting her chin up gently so she’d meet his eyes. “Hey. I was kidding, okay? There's no pressure. Ever. You set the pace, Lucy. Whatever you need, whenever you’re ready. I’ll be right here.”

Relief flickered across her face, and she managed a small smile. “Okay,” she murmured.

Her eyes wandered around the room before settling on a new idea. She shuffled over to one side of the hospital bed, patting the now-empty space beside her. She looked up at him expectantly.

Tim raised both eyebrows, incredulous. “You’re kidding.”

Lucy didn’t flinch, her stubborn streak flaring as she met his gaze head-on. 

“You're not kidding.” Tim let out a defeated groan, running a hand down his face. “Lucy. These beds are not made for two people.”

That only served to make her pout deepen, “I’m in crisis, and I want my soulmate to snuggle me. So. Snuggle, Soulmate.” Her voice wavered just slightly, enough for him to notice. “I just… I need you close. Please?”

The single word, softly spoken but laced with vulnerability, made his chest ache. Without another word, Tim carefully climbed onto the bed, maneuvering himself into the small space beside her.

“There,” he said gruffly, his arm sliding around her shoulders to pull her against his chest. “Satisfied?”

Lucy didn’t answer right away, nestling into him until her head rested beneath his chin. She let out a soft happy sigh, her body relaxing for the first time all day. “Yeah,” she whispered. “Thanks, Tim.”

His hand moved instinctively, tracing slow, comforting circles against her back. The gentle motion seemed to calm her even more, her breathing evening out as she melted further into him.

Tim let the silence linger for a moment before breaking it. “Did you just play me?” he questioned, his tone filled with mock suspicion.

Lucy shrugged against him, but he didn’t miss the tiny grin that tugged at her lips. “Maybe,” she admitted, the teasing lilt in her voice impossible to ignore. Before he could respond, she began tapping his chest excitedly. “Oh! You know what I want now?”

Tim tilted his head down to look at her, amusement glinting in his eyes. “I’m sure you’re about to tell me,” he deadpanned, his lips twitching into a smirk.

Lucy pulled back just enough to stare at him with full earnest seriousness. “I want Kojo pictures,” she declared.

- - -

When Angela finally returned, that’s how she found them: Lucy’s hair had been let down from its usual bun, her dark locks tumbling over her shoulders as Tim absentmindedly ran his fingers through them. One of her legs was lazily draped over his hip, their heads close together as they smiled at something on his phone.

“Oh, look at this one,” Tim said, his voice tinged with amusement. “Kojo snuggling with his blanky again. I swear, Lucy, he takes that thing everywhere.”

Lucy laughed. “I told you my boy had good taste.”

Tim arched a brow, feigning offense. “Oh, so he’s your boy now?”

Lucy held up the phone triumphantly, pointing to the picture on the screen. “Hello,” she said with mock seriousness, “the evidence speaks for itself.”

Angela cleared her throat loudly from the doorway. “Ahem. Okay, lovebirds! Grown-ups coming into the room now!”

Lucy let out a startled squeak, quickly trying to push herself off Tim. Her cheeks flushed a deep pink as she tried—and utterly failed—to put some respectable distance between them. Tim, on the other hand, barely moved, his gaze shifting to Angela with a look that was half irritation, half resignation.

Angela smirked, leaning casually against the doorframe with her arms crossed. “Sorry to interrupt… whatever this is,” she said, gesturing in a circular motion at their intertwined forms. “But I thought you’d like to change.” She held up a bag of clothes and tossed it onto the bed before adding, “Oh, and I checked at the nurses’ station. Your labs are back. Isabel will be coming in to go over the results soon.”

Tim let out a quiet sigh, shifting to sit up straighter, though his hand instinctively moved to Lucy’s back. “Thanks, Angela,” He said, carefully keeping his voice neutral. 

Angela smirked, clearly enjoying the moment. “Sure, don’t mention it. Oh, and before I forget…” She reached into her pocket and tossed a set of keys at him. “I drove your truck over. I’ll bring your shop back to the station.”

Tim caught them easily, and gave her a small nod of thanks, slipping the keys into his pocket. “Appreciate it.”

Lucy cleared her throat lightly, drawing their attention. “I’m, uh, I’m gonna go change. Thanks for the clothes, Lopez. Tim? I think you should wait outside.”

Tim frowned, his brows pulling together in concern. “Are you sure? Do you need help?”

Lucy smirked, her eyes twinkling despite the nerves still lingering in her chest. “I think I can manage getting dressed,” she teased playfully. She placed her hand gently on his arm, her voice softening. “I just mean… Isabel is my doctor. I think it would be kind of us to warn her about me—that I’m… well, you know.”

Tim’s expression shifted, his features softening as he smiled at her. Lucy felt a wave of affection radiate through their bond. “Always so thoughtful,” he murmured, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. His touch lingered for just a moment, enough to make her heart flutter. “Okay. I’ll be right outside if you need anything.”

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering just long enough to steady her nerves. Then, with a reluctant sigh, he straightened and turned to Angela, his expression shifting to something more pointed. He gestured toward the door with a subtle but firm motion.

Angela huffed dramatically, rolling her eyes as she grabbed her bag. “Ugh, fine,” she grumbled.

As the door clicked shut behind them, she leaned against the wall across from Tim, arms crossed and a sly grin tugging at her lips. “So…” she started, dragging out the word for effect, “you and Lucy seemed… cozy.”

Tim narrowed his eyes at her, crossing his own arms in response. “Angela…”

“What?” she said, feigning innocence. “I’m just saying, it looks like you two have worked things out. And you seem happy, Tim.”

He rolled his eyes, though a smirk betrayed his feigned annoyance. “I am. We are. Just… stop making such a big deal out of it. It’s still new.”

Before Angela could needle him further, Isabel rounded the corner, clipboard in hand. Her sharp gaze landed on them both, her brows furrowing slightly in curiosity. She stopped in her tracks. “Tim. Angela. I take it my VIP is one of yours?”

Angela straightened up, a casual grin on her face. “Hey, Izzy. Yeah, she’s my rookie.”

Tim, however, raised a hand to interrupt. “A-actually, Isabel, that’s… that’s kind of what we’re waiting out here to tell you.” His words stumbled over themselves, and he let out an audible groan, running a hand over his face. “Lucy. Sh-she’s, uh… she’s my rookie too. I mean, she was. But now she’s Lopez’s. And also… oh, why is this so hard?” He groaned again, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling.

Isabel arched a brow but said nothing, her attention flicking over to Angela for clarification.

Angela smirked, raising a hand to wave him on. “Just give him a minute,” she said with an exaggerated sigh.

Tim took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus. “Okay. Sorry. I’ll try again.” He squared his shoulders, as if steeling himself for a battle. “Right. So… no easy way to say this, but Lucy is our rookie. And also… she’s my soulmate.”

For a moment, Isabel simply blinked, her expression unreadable. Then her lips parted slightly. “Oh. Your soulmate.”

“Yeah,” Tim said quickly, stepping in to explain further. “Look, we just didn’t want you to be blindsided when you went in there. That’s all.”

Isabel let out a slow, measured sigh, her expression softening ever so slightly. “Okay. Well, thank you for letting me know.” She glanced between Tim and Angela. “Let’s go see my patient. I assume you’ll be joining us, Tim?”

He nodded, shifting slightly as if bracing himself. “Yeah. Uh, thanks.” Then, turning to Angela, he gave her a pointed look. “Don’t you have a shop to take back to the station?”

Angela opened her mouth to protest, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, but—”

“Go,” Tim commanded, his tone leaving no room for any argument.

Isabel pushed open the door, then looked back at Tim expectantly. “Shall we?”

He nodded and followed her in, moving instinctively to stand behind Lucy, who was now sitting at the edge of the hospital bed. His arms stayed crossed, muscles tense with restraint, even as every fiber of his being screamed at him to reach for her.

Isabel flipped through a couple of pages on her clipboard before clearing her throat. “Okay, Officer Chen. As you know, I’m Dr. Mackenzie.” Her voice was measured, professional. “Looking over your lab results here, I can confirm that you’re free of any high-risk infections or diseases.”

Lucy let out an audible breath, her shoulders sagging in relief. Before he could think twice about it, Tim’s hand dropped to her shoulder, squeezing gently. The warmth of her skin beneath his fingers grounded him, reassuring them both.

Isabel barely glanced up before continuing, “However, you do have a staph infection. It’s not uncommon in cases like this, but we need to get ahead of it. I’d like to keep you overnight for an intravenous course of antibiotics.”

Lucy frowned, clearly already thinking ahead. “What about work? Do I need to take time off? I have shift tomorrow.”

Tim didn’t even hesitate. “Hey, it’s okay. I can clear some PTO with Grey. Officers get injured in the line of duty all the time.”

“No. No, I know that,” Lucy insisted, shaking her head. “I just… I don’t want this to keep me down.”

Isabel gave her a small nod, flipping another page on the clipboard. “Actually, I don’t see a reason why you can’t return to work tomorrow. I’ll put a note on your file for early discharge. You might be late to roll call, but… we’ll do our best.”

Lucy exhaled, relief washing over her again. “Thank you.”

“You’ll also need to follow up with your GP,” Isabel added, scribbling something in her notes. “I’d like you to have monthly bloodwork for the next six months to rule out HIV.”

Lucy nodded. “Okay, I can do that.”

“Good.” Isabel clicked her pen closed and tucked the clipboard under her arm. “Unless you have any other questions, I’ll send a nurse in to start your antibiotics.”

She turned toward the door but hesitated, her fingers lingering on the handle. There was the barest flicker of discomfort on her face before she spoke again.

“Kissing is fine, by the way,” she said, not quite meeting Tim’s eyes. “And for the next six months, I’d recommend condoms. Just in case.”

And with that, she was gone.

Shaking his head, Tim leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be right back.”

He caught up to Isabel just outside Lucy’s room, his fingers wrapping gently around her elbow to stop her.

“Hey,” he said, lowering his voice. “Can we talk for a sec?”

Isabel hesitated, glancing at the door before turning to face him. “What is it, Tim?”

He swallowed, shifting on his feet. “I just… I wanted to say thank you. For treating Lucy. I know that probably wasn’t easy for you.”

She let out a short breath, folding her arms. “It’s my job.”

“I know,” he said quickly. “I just—thank you. Really.”

She nodded, accepting his words, but when he didn’t move to go back inside, she narrowed her eyes. “There’s something else.”

Tim exhaled, running a hand down his face before settling it on his hip. His voice was quieter now, rougher. “Can I have this, Isabel?”

She blinked. “Have what?”

“Lucy,” he admitted. “Can I have her? Be happy with her?”

Isabel’s brows lifted, her expression unreadable. “You’re asking me?”

Tim nodded. “You were my wife. Your feelings still matter to me.” He swallowed, rubbing the back of his neck. “And… I need you to know that I didn’t know Lucy was my soulmate until a couple months ago. I meant it, all those years ago, when I told you I wouldn’t look for her. But…” His jaw tightened. “Things happened. And now I know.”

Isabel’s gaze flickered toward the door again, understanding settling in.

Tim’s voice dropped lower. “And I know that I took your soulmate from you.”

She sucked in a quiet breath.

Tim leaned back against the wall, staring at the floor between them. “I’d get it if you didn’t want to give me your blessing. If you didn’t think I deserved to have my own soulmate after what happened with Will.” His jaw clenched. “I’d understand.”

For a long moment, Isabel just watched him with a softness in her eyes. Then, to Tim’s complete surprise, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him.

He stiffened for half a second before exhaling, his arms automatically coming up to return the hug.

“Tim,” she murmured against his shoulder, “I never blamed you for Will’s death.”

He squeezed his eyes shut.

She pulled back slightly, hands moving to straighten the collar of his uniform like she used to. “I won’t lie and say this is easy for me,” she admitted, glancing briefly at the door again. “And even though things between us didn’t end easily… I don’t regret our time together.”

Tim let out a breath, feeling some of the weight in his chest ease.

“I think we both needed our marriage,” Isabel continued, her voice softer now, “to let ourselves heal from losing him. And we did.” She met his gaze fully, and gave him a small, knowing smile. “So, yes, Tim. You can have her. And I hope you let yourself be happy with her.”

He searched her face, waiting for the hesitation, the regret. But there was only honesty.

Finally, he nodded, leaning down to press a small kiss to her cheek. “Thank you,” he murmured.

She just smiled, then turned and walked away, leaving Tim standing outside Lucy’s door.

Taking a steadying breath, he reentered the room. Lucy was curled on her side, watching the door.

“Hey, you,” he murmured, stepping closer. His hand found her leg, running a slow, comforting path along her calf. “Doing okay?”

She nodded, but the slight furrow in her brow betrayed her curiosity. “Mhm. What was that about?”

Tim hesitated for just a beat before offering a small shrug. “Ah, nothing. Just… saying goodbye.”

A flicker of something passed through their bond—brief—but Tim caught it. Insecurity, uncertainty. It was gone before he could even fully register it, but still, it twisted something in his gut.

He reached for the duffle bag containing his clothes. “Be right back. Just gonna change.” 

Lucy hummed in acknowledgment, watching him disappear into the bathroom. 

A few minutes later, freshly changed and slightly more comfortable, Tim slid into bed behind her. His arm curled around her waist, pulling her back against his chest until there was no space left between them. He pressed his face into her hair, breathing her in.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked softly. “No one would blame you if you weren’t.”

Lucy shifted, rolling over in his arms, her leg sliding over his hip as she tucked her head beneath his chin. She fit perfectly against him, her fingers resting lightly against his chest. “Yeah, I think so,” she whispered. Then, quieter still, “Thanks for being here with me, Tim.”

He tightened his hold, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of her head. “Nowhere else I’d rather be.”

And he meant it. 

He was completely and utterly wrapped around Lucy’s little finger—no fight left in him, no point in pretending otherwise. He was hers in every way that mattered.

They stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, until the door creaked open again.

“Alright, Lucy-girl, time to get you hooked up,” Gino announced, wheeling in the IV stand.

Tim groaned, reluctant to move, but he did, sliding back just enough to let Gino do his job. He didn’t go far, though—just perched on the edge of the bed, his hand resting against Lucy’s shin as she winced slightly at the prick of the needle.

“All set,” Gino said a few minutes later, patting Lucy’s arm. “Hey, Luce, you want me to update Jackson? He’s asked a couple of times. I don’t think anyone’s told him yet that you're okay.”

Lucy’s eyes widened. “Shoot. Uh, yeah, go ahead, please. And let him know to swing by after shift.”

Gino nodded. “Will do. Rest up, baby girl. I’ll be back in a couple hours to check on you.”

Lucy smiled, giving his wrist a light squeeze. “I’m in good hands here.”

Tim wasted no time settling back in, gathering Lucy close again. She sighed softly against his chest, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns along his side, and something in his chest ached at how easy this felt. How natural. How right.

“I did something for us,” he murmured after a moment.

Lucy hummed, drowsy but curious. “Hmm? What’s that?”

Tim hesitated, his fingers tracing slow, comforting circles on her back. “I looked into the rules about soulmates working together.”

That got her attention. She pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, searching. “And?”

He held her gaze, steady and serious. “There’s no rule against it. It’s left to the couple’s discretion—with IA approval, of course. There’s an argument for keeping a bonded pair separate because of the risk of projection, but also a case for keeping them together for that same reason. If we were split up, we’d be more likely to be distracted, to make mistakes.”

Lucy blinked, absorbing the information. “So… it’s completely up to us?”

Tim nodded. “Yeah. I could—” He hesitated, swallowing hard. “I could finish your training. If you wanted, that is.”

He tried to sound casual, but Lucy felt the way his pulse stuttered beneath her fingertips—the quick flutter of uncertainty through their bond. He was trying to play it cool, but deep down, this mattered to him. She mattered to him.

Her eyes darted down to his lips before flickering back to meet his, something warm and tender blooming in her chest. “That's… really sweet Tim. Thank you.”

He smiled softly, tangling his fingers through her hair. “You're welcome, I just…. Wanted you to know you have options. If you wanted them.”

Lucy swallowed, feeling the weight of the trust behind his offer. The way he was letting her choose.

“I want you.”

Tim stilled, eyes widening slightly, his breath catching.

Lucy’s stomach flipped, realizing how that sounded. “—to finish my training,” she added quickly, stumbling over the words, desperate to cover her slip-up. “If we get approved, I mean.”

For a split second, Tim said nothing. Then his lips twitched in amusement, and she half expected him to tease her. But, instead, he pulled her even closer, their foreheads nearly touching as he brushed his nose against hers in the softest, most featherlight touch.

“I want you too,” he murmured, his breath ghosting over her lips.

Lucy's breath hitched, warmth curling low in her belly, spreading through her limbs. Her fingers tightened where they rested against his chest, clutching at the fabric of his shirt. 

"Kiss me," she whispered, giving permission for what they both desperately wanted.

That was all he needed. 

Tim's fingers curled more firmly around the back of her neck, his thumb brushing just beneath her ear as he leaned in, pressing his lips to hers. It was soft at first, almost hesitant—just the barest meeting of mouths, testing, savouring. But even that light touch sent a shiver down Lucy's spine.

And god, it felt so good. So right. Like she had been waiting her whole life for this exact moment, for him. A soft gasp escaped her, and Tim seized the opening, deepening the kiss in an instant.

His lips moved against hers with slow, deliberate intent, coaxing and exploring, and Lucy melted into him. He pulled her impossibly closer, his arm tightening around her waist as his free hand tangled in her hair. She responded in kind, her hands skimming up his chest and over his shoulders, needing more—more of him, more of this, more of them. 

Tim groaned low in his throat, and the sound sent a delicious thrill through her. Their lips parted and met again, a slow, unhurried rhythm that left her dizzy. His tongue brushed against hers, teasing, tasting, and she let herself drown in it, in him.

She whimpered softly as he pressed his body flush against hers, rolling her slightly onto her back, exposing the delicate curve of her neck to him.

Tim groaned low in his throat, his leg pushing further between hers as he kissed his way down the column of her throat, his lips tracing the rapid pulse fluttering beneath her skin. He could feel the heat of her, the way her body arched into him, the soft, breathy sound she made as his tongue flicked over her pulse point. "T..Tim," she gasped.

He hummed in response, sucking gently at the sensitive spot just beneath her jaw, reveling in the way she trembled beneath him. "T-Tim. W-wait.”

He was off her in an instant, nearly toppling off the hospital bed in his desperate effort to respect her boundaries. His chest heaved as he braced himself on one arm, eyes wide, searching hers. 

"Did I hurt you?” he asked concerned.

"No," she panted, still catching her breath. “just just need to slow down for a second... Come back." She reached for him, fingers curling into his shirt. "You're amazing, that was... God, that was amazing. I just need us to slow down a little."

Tim exhaled, relief flooding his system. "Okay. I'm sorry.”

"Nono, no. Don't apologize." Lucy shook her head quickly, her hands sliding up to cup his face. I want this. I want you. It's just..." She gestured vaguely, her gaze flickering to the IV in her arm. "l'm literally hooked up to an IV, we're crammed into a hospital bed that's way too small for the both of us, and..”

"You don't want the first time we have sex to be here" Tim finished for her, his voice soft but understanding.

Lucy nodded, a little breathless. "Yeah." 

Tim smiled then, a slow, knowing curve of his lips, and tilted her chin up to meet his gaze. "Noted." 

He held her face between his hands and kissed her—slow and lingering, pouring every ounce of affection he had into it. "Better?" he murmured against her lips. 

She nodded, already reaching for more, pulling him back down into another kiss. 

Tim chuckled, his fingers tangling in her hair. "Tell me what you do want," he murmured, his voice a low rumble against her skin.

Lucy, already lost in the warmth of his mouth on hers, barely processed his words at first. She hummed in question.

"The first time I take you to my bed..." Tim trailed off, his lips brushing over hers, teasing. "What do you want?" His voice was a husky growl, sending a shiver down her spine. 

Lucy bit her lip, smiling against him, her fingers skimming over the nape of his neck. "I want.." She kissed him, soft and slow. "Dinner first." Another kiss. "Candles." A deeper kiss. "Slow." 

Tim groaned, deep and guttural, his forehead pressing against hers as he exhaled. His hands framed her face, thumbs stroking gently over her cheekbones. “Anything. Everything. Whenever you’re ready, Lucy, I’ll give it all to you.”

Something in her chest clenched at his words—at the unwavering devotion in his voice, the sincerity in his touch. She didn’t doubt for a second that he meant it.

They stayed wrapped in each other for as long as they could, toeing the line between heated kisses and something more. Every time the intensity threatened to tip over, Tim pulled back just enough to keep them grounded, brushing his lips against her forehead, her cheek, the corner of her mouth. He was content to just hold her, to let her rest against him, breathing each other in.

Eventually, Jackson showed up after his shift, knocking lightly before stepping inside with a grin and a bag of takeout in hand.

“Figured you could use some real food,” he said, holding the bag up with a flourish. “Hospital Jell-O isn’t exactly gourmet.”

Lucy smiled warmly, shifting to sit up. “You’re the best, Jackson.”

Tim sighed, reluctantly pulling away. He wanted to stay—wanted to be there for every moment—but Lucy caught his hand before he could stand, giving it a squeeze.

“Go home,” she murmured, her voice soft but insistent. “Walk our boy. He probably misses you.”

Tim smirked. “You’re just trying to get rid of me.”

“Maybe,” she teased. “Or maybe I know Kojo’s been waiting by the door all day.”

Tim exhaled through his nose, nodding. “Fine. But I’m picking you up after roll call in the morning.”

Lucy smiled, tugging him down for one last lingering kiss. “I’ll be ready.”

With a reluctant sigh, he pulled back, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. “Get some rest.”

As he turned to leave, Jackson took his spot at Lucy’s bedside, shaking his head with amusement. “I take it you got over those fears we talked about.”

Lucy just smiled, watching as Tim cast one last glance over his shoulder before disappearing through the door.

- - -

Tim spotted Jackson in the locker room, stuffing his bag into a locker, and wasted no time.

“Hey, West, how did Lucy do through the night?”

Jackson barely glanced up before rolling his eyes. “Like you weren’t texting each other all night?”

Tim narrowed his gaze, unimpressed. “Just answer the question.”

Jackson snorted but relented. “Relax, man. She did great. Slept all the way through, no nightmares. They’re getting her ready now, so she should be good to go when you get there.”

Tim exhaled, some of the tension in his shoulders easing. “Good. Okay. Thanks.”

He started to turn, but Jackson caught his arm, halting his exit.

“Bradford,” Jackson said, voice quieter now—calm, but firm. “I haven’t seen Lucy this happy since we were kids.” His grip tightened just slightly as he adjusted his stance, squaring his shoulders. “If you hurt her again—ever—”

“I’ll hand you the loaded gun myself,” Tim cut in, his voice low and certain. He swallowed, his throat tightening. “I know she’s too good for me. I know that, West. But for whatever reason, she’s mine. And I’ll spend every damn day proving I deserve her. I will not hurt her again.” He shook his head, pressing his lips into a thin line. “But if I ever do… take me out of the equation. Deal?”

Jackson studied him for a long moment, measuring his sincerity. Then, slowly, he released his grip.

“Deal.”

- - -

Even before he arrived at the hospital, Tim was irritated. No—scratch that—Lucy was irritated.

He huffed a quiet laugh to himself. What in the world was happening that had her so worked up this early in the morning?

The answer became painfully obvious as he approached her room. He heard the nurse’s voice, tight with forced patience.

“Officer Chen, please, it’s hospital policy. You can get out as soon as you reach the doors.”

Tim slowed his steps, lingering just outside the doorway.

Lucy’s response came fast and sharp. “I’m not doing it. The wheelchair is stupid, I’m fine. It was a needle, not a knife wound, for god’s sake.”

Tim smirked. Okay, time to intervene.

“Are you making trouble for the nurses, Chen?”

Lucy, arms stubbornly crossed, turned her glare on him. “Are you going to try and tell me you don’t do the same, Bradford?”

Tim ignored the dig, instead looking to the nurse, who appeared to be teetering on the edge of exasperation. “Thanks, I got it from here.”

Relief flooded her features. “Thank you, Officer. It really is just hospital policy.”

He raised a hand, placating. “I know. Don’t worry about it.”

The nurse wasted no time making her exit, and Lucy exhaled. “You showed up just in time. Thank you.” She stepped toward him, reaching for his hand, but Tim shifted back, slipping into his best TO stance.

“Sit in the damn chair, Chen.”

He watched as her mouth opened, then closed. Her lips parted again like she wanted to argue, but something flickered through their bond—heat. Pure, unexpected heat.

Her cheeks flushed, and she bit her bottom lip, thighs pressing together ever so slightly. Her eyes fluttered shut for a half second, just long enough for Tim to feel it—how much she liked being ordered around.

Well, well, well.

Without another word, she dropped into the chair.

Tim stepped behind her, hands gripping the wheelchair handles. He leaned in close, letting his breath tickle the shell of her ear.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice that, Lucy,” he murmured, voice low and rough. “I’m definitely filing that away for later.”

A barely audible whimper escaped her throat.

He grinned, smug and satisfied, before gently tipping her chin up with his fingers. He kissed her slow and deep, pulling away only when he felt the tension in her melt.

“That’s the only one until after shift, Officer Chen,” he warned, smirking as he started pushing her down the hallway.

Lucy groaned. “You’re the worst.”

Tim just chuckled. “You like it.”

---

Sitting side by side in the shop again was as easy as breathing. Their dynamic hadn’t just survived the shift in their relationship—it had thrived because of it.

To his credit, Tim hadn’t let their soulmate bond interfere with his TO instincts. He was still firm, still held her to the highest standard, still expected her to be nothing short of excellent. But the way he did it had changed.

The touches were new. Small, fleeting, but deliberate. And devastating.

A slow brush of his thumb over the back of her hand when he told her to take the lead on the radio. A firm, grounding press of his palm against the small of her back when reminding her to check her six. A squeeze to her wrist when she made the right call, silent praise just for her.

Innocent. That’s what they were. Completely professional, nothing anyone else would look twice at.

But for Lucy? They were torture.

Because she could feel it. Feel him. His touch burned hotter against her skin because she wasn’t just feeling the physical sensation—she was feeling his emotions through the bond. The steady pulse of his pride when she got something right. The flicker of worry when she hesitated a second too long clearing a room. The sharp pull of want when she smiled at him just a little too long.

By the end of the shift, she was damn near out of her mind.

When Tim casually offered to help with paperwork, voice as smooth and unreadable as ever, Lucy barely managed to bite back a whimper.

“No—I got it,” she snapped, quicker and sharper than she intended.

She turned on her heel and walked away before she could let him see just how much he was affecting her.

Behind her, she felt his smirk.

Once she finished the paperwork, Lucy didn’t bother with pleasantries. She shoved the stack against Tim’s chest with a muttered, “I’m going to take a shower.” before stomping toward the locker room.

She felt his amusement even before she turned her back. That smug, knowing satisfaction rolling off him in waves. It only made her move faster.

Under the scalding water, she took slow, deep breaths, trying to cool the heat simmering under her skin. But it was useless. Because even as she stood alone under the spray, she could still feel him—could still feel the warmth of his touch on her hand, her back, her wrist.

By the time she stepped out of the locker room, freshly showered, he was already waiting for her. Casually leaning against the wall, scrolling through his phone like he had all the time in the world.

His head lifted when he saw her, his face softening into an easy smile. “Hey.”

Lucy slowed her steps, heart skipping at the sight of him. Of course he’d waited.

“You got plans tonight?” he asked, slipping his phone into his pocket. “I was thinking I could cook for you.”

She barely stopped herself from melting on the spot.

Lucy quickly glanced up and down the hall, making sure no one was watching before she sauntered forward, fingers curling into the lapel of his jacket. His breath hitched—she felt it—but he didn’t pull away.

“You were, were you?” she murmured, tilting her head in challenge.

His hands twitched at his sides.

She smirked.

“Hmm… yeah, that sounds nice,” she continued, voice softening. “I need to run home first, should give you enough time to walk Kojo, yeah?”

Tim exhaled slowly, nodding. “Yeah. That works.”

Lucy bit back a grin as she stepped back. “Okay, I’ll see you soon.”

An hour later, she pulled up to Tim’s house, knocking lightly at the door. Barely a second passed before she heard the familiar thump-thump-thump of paws against the floor.

“It’s open!” Tim called from inside.

Lucy pushed the door open just in time to be tackled by Kojo’s excitement. His tail wagged wildly as he pushed up on his hind legs, tongue lolling in pure joy.

“Hey, buddy!” She laughed, dropping to her knees to shower him with love. “Did you miss me?”

Tim chuckled, stepping forward to tug him back. “Hey man, chill. Let our girl breathe a little.”

Lucy’s heart fluttered at the casual possessiveness of our girl. But any teasing remark she might’ve made was forgotten the moment she stood and met Tim’s gaze.

His jaw dropped.

She watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed thickly. “Y-you… ah. You changed.”

She shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Well, I figured since you were cooking for me and all, I could consider this a date. Didn’t want to show up in just my civvies.”

Tim could only stare.

The jeans she wore hugged her curves like they’d been painted on, and the soft, flowy yellow crop top with delicate floral patterns was unfair. The golden hue made her skin glow, and when she shifted slightly, he caught a teasing glimpse of bare skin at her waist.

She felt the way his pulse jumped. The way his breath hitched.

And she reveled in it.

Taking full advantage of his momentary lapse, she grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him forward, crashing her lips against his in a bruising kiss. Tim barely had time to react before she maneuvered them backward, pulling until her back hit the nearest wall.

His hands instinctively found her waist, fingers digging in just enough to make her shiver. She broke the kiss, eyes dark and filled with mischief as she wound a leg around his hip, pressing herself flush against him.

“So,” she panted, her breath warm against his lips. “Can I expect all our shifts together to be this… distracting?”

Tim groaned, his control slipping further. He rolled his hips against her, swallowing the little gasp she let out as he dove in for another kiss, this one deeper, more desperate.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he murmured against her mouth, even though they both knew he was full of it.

Lucy smirked against his lips before abruptly pushing him away, leaving him off balance and dazed.

“Well, in that case…” She said, casually fluffing her hair. “I believe you mentioned something about dinner?” She sniffed the air and hummed in approval. “Smells good. What are we having?”

She turned on her heel, walking away with a sway of her hips, acting like she hadn’t just wrecked him in his own hallway.

Tim stood there, chest heaving, completely dumbfounded.

That little—

Tim forced himself to take a few deep breaths, steadying the fire low in his belly before finally following Lucy into the kitchen. She was already helping herself to a glass of wine, leaning against the counter with an air of casual confidence that made him want to ruin her composure entirely. 

Without a word, he stepped behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her flush against his chest. He swayed them side to side in a lazy rhythm. "It's nothing too fancy. Honestly, I'm not the greatest cook... just some chicken and roasted veggies." 

Lucy hummed in approval, tilting her head back slightly to rest against his shoulder. "Sounds great.”

Tim moved her hair to one side before pressing soft kisses along the exposed skin of her neck. "I've got dessert too, if you're interested."

Lucy turned slightly in his arms, a teasing smirk playing at her lips. "Always." 

Tim chuckled, tightening his hold on her for a brief moment before reluctantly stepping away. "Okay, go sit down. I'll be right there." 

They ate quietly, the occasional scrape of silverware filling the comfortable silence. Their conversation was light, playful, but Tim's attention kept snagging on the little moans Lucy let out as she savored each bite. His grip on his fork tightened, his focus narrowing on the way she licked a stray drop of sauce from her lips.

When it came time for dessert, Tim proudly presented a bowl of vanilla ice cream drizzled with melted chocolate, forming a hardened shell on top.

Lucy raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Vanilla, huh?"

Tim crossed his arms over his chest. "It's a classic."

She hummed in mock consideration before smirking. "I'm sure it is."

Tim reached for a second bowl, but Lucy stopped him. "Just one," she murmured, “I have an idea.”

His brows lifted, but he didn't argue as he brought the single bowl back to the table. Lucy wasted no time. She gently pushed back her chair before swinging a leg over his, settling herself in his lap. 

Tim instinctively gripped her waist, his pulse quickening. She picked up a piece of the hardened chocolate, breaking it off and holding it between her fingers. "More fun this way, don't you think?"

Tim's lips parted slightly, his breath hitching. He leaned in, his gaze locked onto hers as he slowly took the chocolate from her fingers, letting his lips brush against them as he did. Lucy's smirk deepened.

Not to be outdone, he scooped up a bit of ice cream with two fingers and offered it to her in return.

Her eyes darkened, she parted her lips and swirled her tongue around his fingers first, a soft moan slipping from her throat as she sucked the cold treat away.

The hand on Lucy's waist spasmed. "Lucy..."

She simply grinned, licking a stray drop of ice cream from his fingertip. "Told you this would be more fun.”

They fed each other the rest of the ice cream that way, each soft moan and flicker of heat between them making them all the more desperate.

By the time the bowl was empty, Tim couldn't take it anymore. His restraint snapped. He pushed back from the table abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor as he caught Lucy by the waist and lifted her into his arms. She gasped, but it quickly turned into a delighted laugh as she wrapped her legs tightly around him.

Their mouths met in a feverish kiss, all teeth and tongue and desperate need. Tim barely registered the path he took, too focused on Lucy's taste, the warmth of her body pressed against his, the way her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging just hard enough to make him groan.

He reached his bedroom door and pressed her against it, his hips pinning her there as he fumbled for the handle. The soft thunk of the door clicking shut was drowned out by Lucy’s breathy whimper when he rolled his hips against hers. Her fingers slipped beneath the hem of his shirt, bunching the fabric and tugging.

Tim smirked against her lips, shifting just enough to give her room. She pulled his shirt up, but before she could get it over his head, he gripped the fabric and yanked it the rest of the way off, tossing it carelessly aside.

Lucy’s breath hitched, her eyes roaming greedily over his bare chest and abs. “Jesus,” she whispered, running her fingers over the hard planes of muscle, her touch light.

Tim tucked his head into the crook of her neck, chest heaving as her hands explored him. “You keep looking at me like that, and I’m not gonna make it to the bed,” he rasped.

Lucy smirked, dragging her nails lightly down his stomach, feeling the way his abs tensed beneath her touch. “Then I guess we better move fast,” she murmured, before pulling him back into another searing kiss.

Tim responded with a growl as he spun them around, depositing her on his bed. The shift in position left her breathless, her head hitting the pillow as she barely had time to register before he was on her again, his weight pressing her into the mattress. His hands shoving her top up, over her chest, until the fabric bunched beneath her arms, revealing the lacy scrap of a bra beneath.

Lucy shuddered as his mouth descended, latching onto her nipple through the thin material, sucking just hard enough to send a sharp jolt of pleasure straight through her. She gasped, arching into his touch, fingers fumbling behind her to unclasp her bra.

Tim groaned against her, the sound vibrating through her as he pulled her upright just enough to strip her of the offending fabric in one fluid motion.

Then his mouth was on her again. His tongue traced the peak of her breast before he sucked it into his mouth, lips hot, demanding. He let go with a pop, the cool air sending a shiver down her spine before he kissed his way across her chest, lavishing the same attention on the other.

Lucy tangled her fingers in his hair, her breath coming fast, heat pooling between them, between her thighs. She fumbled with the buttons of his jeans, torn between stripping them both bare and the need to be close to him.

She settled for both, pushing his pants and briefs down as far as she could with her toes. Tim groaned against her skin, kicking his pants away before kneeling back against his heels. 

His eyes raked over her, taking in the way her hair spilled across his pillow, her chest heaving, her lips parted, swollen from his kisses. She looked wrecked for him. Beautiful. Irresistible. Holding her gaze, he ran his fingers slowly up her legs, teasing, until they curled around the last scrap of fabric keeping them apart. He felt her anticipation spike, the way her breath hitched, the way her muscles tensed. 

He smirked and leaned in, pressing a kiss just above her navel, his fingers teasing the edge of the fabric. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he murmured.

Lucy swallowed hard, her fingers threading through his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan. “Don't stop,” she whispered.

He slid the fabric down, slowly, drinking in the sight of her laid bare before him. A muscle ticked in his jaw as he fought the urge to just take—because god, he wanted to.

Instead, he pressed his lips to her hip, then lower, his breath hot against her skin. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his fingers tracing slow, torturous circles along the inside of her thigh.

Lucy arched into his touch, her legs parting in invitation. “Tim,” she whimpered, her need pulsing through their bond like a heartbeat.

Tim groaned, surrendering to the pull of her, the raw need that coursed through both of them. His fingers found her, sliding deep in one smooth motion, and he nearly lost himself in the heat of her, in the way she clenched around him, already so close. 

"My God, Lucy" he moaned. "The day I get to taste you... is the day we call in a week of PTO."

A shudder ripped through her, and she gasped a breathless, "Yes." It was all she could manage, her body arching, trembling, as he worked her with devastating precision—fingers spreading, curling, over and over, coaxing her higher, seeking that one spot he knew would undo her.

She whimpered, her hands clenching around his biceps, fingers digging into his skin as pleasure built fast, overwhelming, white-hot and relentless. He felt it right alongside her--the sharp rise, the coil tightening, her desperation colliding with his own. Then he found it.

Lucy cried out, her body bowing as she shattered around him, her hands scrabbling at his bedsheets, fisting them as wave after wave crashed over her.

"That's it," Tim rasped, his free hand splaying over her belly, right above where his fingers were driving her to oblivion. He pressed down just enough to make her feel all of it, the intensity, the depth. "Give it to me, Lucy."

Her breath ing came in ragged, uneven pants, her body pulsing with aftershocks as he pushed her over the edge again, and again, prolonging her pleasure, refusing to let up. 

She couldn't stop the sounds spilling from her lips, a breathless, desperate stream of "Yes—there—don't stop—Tim—yes—" until she was wrung out, boneless beneath him. 

Tim swallowed hard, forcing himself to breathe, to ground himself even as his own need clawed at him. He let his fingers slip from her, sliding up her body to cradle her face, pressing his forehead to hers. Then he kissed her—deep, slow, savouring the taste of her, the way she was still trembling in his arms, the aftershocks of pleasure rippling through her, through him.

"Good?" he murmured against her lips.

Lucy nodded, her breath still uneven, her body still humming. Words failed her, caught somewhere between the dazed pleasure in her mind and the insatiable hunger still curling in her belly.

Tim smirked, tilting his head slightly to nip at her lower lip. "Ready for more?" 

Another nod. This time, slower. Intentional. 

His smirk deepened, satisfaction flaring in his chest. He reached past her, fingers brushing against his bedside table as he pulled the drawer open. Lucy watched through heavy-lidded eyes, anticipation rolling off her waves that fed into his own need.

Tim grabbed a condom, then sat back on his heels, bringing Lucy up with him. She followed easily, willingly, straddling his lap, her body pressed flush against his.

Lucy's hands were steady despite the way her body trembled, despite the way her heart pounded in time with Tim's as she helped him roll the condom on, her fingers skimming over him in a way that had his breath stuttering. His muscles tensed, his body thrumming with restraint. But then he was moving—one strong arm wrapping around her waist, lifting her.

Lucy let out a sharp gasp as he guided her down onto him, her thighs tightening around his hips as he stretched her, filled her completely. A high-pitched whine escaped her lips, her head tilting back, eyes fluttering closed.

Tim groaned, his grip tightening on her waist. "Jesus, Lucy.." His forehead dropping to her shoulder for half a second before he found her lips again. 

The kiss was hot, desperate, their mouths crashing together as they moved, her strong legs pushing against him as he guided her back down, their bodies falling into a rhythm that had them both unraveling fast.

Soon, their kisses became more about need—shared breath, gasping into each other's mouths, sweat-damp skin sticking where they pressed together. 

Lucy keened, a breathless, broken sound that sent a shudder through Tim. He felt her begin to tremble around him and needed more. Needed to see her fall apart again.

Bracing himself with one hand behind him, he shifted, changing the angle just enough—Lucy cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders as another wave of pleasure crashed over her.

"That's it," he murmured, watching her face, the way her lips parted, her lashes fluttering. He brought his free hand to his mouth, his tongue flicking over his thumb, then reached between them, finding her right there. 

He tapped, rubbed, worked her with quick, precise movements, and she shattered with a sharp, desperate cry—his name spilling from her lips as pleasure took her under. He didn't stop moving until she tried to pull his hand away, overstimulated. 

Lucy barely allowed herself a moment to catch her breath before she reached for him, arms winding around his neck, pulling him in. Her mouth crashed against his, kissing him with a hunger that hadn't faded, licking into his mouth, devouring him.

She pulled back just enough to whisper against his ear. "Take yours."

Then she settled onto her back, legs splayed, open, inviting, his.

A sharp bolt of desire shot through Tim, sending his control snapping at the edges. His gaze darkened, flicking over her—her heaving chest, the way her skin was still flushed, the way she looked at him like she was ready to be ruined all over again. 

He grinned, wicked and wanting, before guiding himself back into her. 

They both moaned at the sensation, the stretch, the delicious friction. Tim wrapped his arms around her thighs, pulling her body flush against him, pressing deep, making sure she felt all of him before he set a pace that was nothing short of punishing.

The room filled with the sounds of their panting breaths, the rhythmic slap of skin against skin, the bedsprings creaking beneath them. 

Lucy clawed at his back, his arms, desperate for more, more, more, sending waves of encouragement through their bond. Tim felt every shiver of pleasure that tore through her, felt the fire burning in her veins, his veins, pushing him closer, too close—

"Lucy" he gasped, his voice strangled, his grip on her tightening. “I'm gonna—god, you're gonna make me—”

Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper, holding him there, and with one final push, pleasure tore through him, stealing the breath from his lungs. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his body locking tight as his release crashed over him, his groan muffled against her skin.

He pulled away briefly, quickly cleaning himself up, and then he gathered her in his arms, shifting them until she was pressed tightly against his chest, their legs tangled.

Lucy sighed, soft and content, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. The connection between them was quieter now, a steady hum instead of a raging fire, but it was no less powerful.

Tim pressed lazy, lingering kisses against her temple, her cheek, her jaw, down the slope of her shoulder. He tasted the salt of her skin, felt the way her pulse fluttered beneath his lips, steady but deep, matching the slowing rhythm of his own heartbeat. 

He exhaled, "Baby," he murmured against her skin, barely more than a breath, "I was made for you.”

Chapter Text

Lucy woke the next morning warm, content, and pleasantly sore in all the best ways. She was wrapped around Tim’s pillow, a poor, yet cozy, substitute for him. 

Tim was missing from her cocoon, though she suspected he must have taken Kojo out, leaving his pillow in his place, like a temporary cuddle replacement. 

A slow, satisfied stretch pulled a sleepy sigh from her lips, before she pushed herself up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Her body protested the movement, a delicious reminder of just how thoroughly Tim had wrecked her last night.

Looking around the room, she searched for something to throw on. His shirt from last night was crumpled on the floor, and she reached for it, slipping it on with a satisfied hum. 

A breathless laugh escaped her when she spotted her panties from the night before. Yeah, those were definitely a lost cause.

Opting for her jeans instead, she buttoned them up and padded toward the bedroom door, drawn by the gentle clinking of utensils and smell of something warm and buttery. She smiled as she turned the corner.

Tim stood at the stove, a dish towel slung over one shoulder, expertly flipping pancakes. His bare back stretched and flexed with every movement, muscles shifting beneath tanned skin.

Lucy took a moment to appreciate the view before stepping up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing a series of soft kisses between his shoulder blades.

“Hmm, that looks good,” she murmured.

Tim glanced over his shoulder, his lips curling into a slow, satisfied smile. “Thank you,” he said, flipping the last pancake onto the plate. “This is the last one, and then we can eat.”

Setting the spatula aside, he turned in her arms, cradling her face with warm, gentle hands. His thumbs brushed over her cheekbones, before he leaned in and captured her mouth in a slow, lingering kiss.

“Mmm… good morning, baby,” he whispered against her lips.

The moment those words left him, Lucy felt it—an immediate rush of something deep, something tender, something more radiating from him.

It stole her breath, made her heart stutter in her chest.

She pulled him down for another kiss, murmuring her own sleepy “good morning” before he turned back to finish plating their food.

They carried their plates to the table, settling in next to each other.

“Sleep okay?” Tim asked, nudging her knee under the table.

Lucy smiled around her first bite of pancake. “Better than I ever have, I think. You?”

Tim’s gaze softened. “Same.”

Lucy sighed, wiping her mouth with a napkin. “I gotta eat quick. Need to get home to change before work.”

Tim stilled for half a second before reaching for her hand, running his thumb over her knuckles. His hesitation was brief, just long enough for her to feel it—just long enough for her heart to skip.

“Next time you come over, you could…” he exhaled, squeezing her fingers, “think about leaving some things here? If you want.”

Lucy blinked, caught off guard —but not in a bad way. In a holy shit, is this real? way. A slow smile curved her lips. “I think I'd like that.” 

Tim’s shoulders dropped as relief washed over him. “Yeah?” he breathed, hope radiating from him.

“Yeah.”

His lips twitched, something like satisfaction flickering in his eyes. “Okay. Good. I’ll, uh… I’ll clear some space for your things.”

After they'd finished eating, Lucy walked to the bedroom, scanning the room for her top from last night. She spotted it, but before she could take off Tim’s shirt, his hand curled gently around her wrist, stopping her.

“Leave it,” he said, his voice lower now, raspier. His gaze traced over her, dark and appreciative. “Looks better on you anyway.”

A slow heat curled through her, and she knew he could feel it, just like she could feel the lazy wave of satisfaction rolling off him.

She smirked, tilting her head. “Oh, yeah? Maybe I’ll just start stealing all your shirts, then.”

Tim’s lips quirked. “I wouldn’t stop you.”

Her heart did an odd little flip at that, but she pushed it aside, stepping into him instead, pressing a lingering kiss to his lips.

“See you at work, baby,” he murmured against her mouth, his hand brushing along her waist before he finally—reluctantly—let her go.

And there it was again.

That feeling.

That thing she couldn’t name.

Lucy felt it settle in her chest as she drove back to her apartment, her fingers tapping absently against the steering wheel, her thoughts looping in circles.

She knew Tim was probably confused, could feel her swirling emotions, and she felt a flicker of guilt for that.

But twice now, she’d felt it from him.

Both times when he kissed her.

Both times after he’d called her baby.

What the hell was that?

She shoved the swirling thoughts aside the moment she stepped into the station, forcing herself into routine. She changed quickly into her uniform, and allowed herself a brief moment to take in the hum of voices, and by the time she walked toward roll call, she felt steady again—focused.

Tim was already there, leaning casually against her desk. His arms were crossed, one hand casually holding out a coffee cup. His eyes warmed when they met hers, and that easy, lopsided grin of his tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"I've got a surprise for you," he said, extending the cup toward her.

Lucy took it with a curious hum, fingers brushing his.

“The lieutenant of CIT is coming in today to run some training for patrol officers,” Tim added, voice low and teasing.

Her entire face lit up in an instant—eyes wide, mouth falling open with pure excitement. “CIT? Seriously? Are you kidding me right now?” Her voice hitched with barely restrained enthusiasm, and without thinking, she grabbed his hands, squeezing tight. “Oh my God, Tim! I have to crush this—I will crush this. This is huge!”

Tim’s smirk deepened as he tapped her cup with a finger. “And that is why you’re drinking decaf today.”

The betrayal hit immediately, her eyes narrowing as she stared him down, scandalized. “ Decaf ? Tim!”

But before she could unleash her caffeine-deprived wrath, he was already turning on his heel, sauntering toward his seat with that smug, knowing swagger that drove her crazy in all the worst—and best—ways.

“Oh, you’re gonna pay for this,” she muttered under her breath.

- - -

“Okay, listen up. The scenario is this—I am a suicide bomber, the trigger, is in my hand. You’ve got 10 words to talk me out of it. Go.” 

Jessica Rousseau, Lieutenant of CIT, stood in the middle of a circle of gathered patrol officers. Her appearance offered an air of softness, yet her voice demanded authority with every word. This wasn’t just another drill; it was designed to expose weaknesses, to sharpen instincts, and, if possible, to save lives before the chance was lost.

“Here’s the deal,” Rousseau continued, pacing slowly, her gaze sweeping over the room in challenge. “Suicide rates are climbing. Terrorist threats? Rising too. My team is drowning under the weight of calls that should never have made it to us in the first place. I need you to learn how to de-escalate before we ever have to get involved. Either a) diffuse the situation entirely, or b) buy me enough time to get there.”

She stopped, her expression hardening. “So. Ten words. Talk me down.”

Jackson was the first to step forward. “Ma’am, I’m Jackson West. What’s your name?”

Rousseau barely let him finish before she scoffed. “And… boom.” She clapped her hands together for emphasis. “Listen, West. I’m in crisis. I don’t care what your name is, and I don’t need you to know mine. That?” She pointed a finger at him. “That was wasted breath. And now? We’re all dead.”

Jackson’s shoulders tensed as he nodded, taking the hit in stride. Beside him, Lucy shot him a quick, apologetic look, mouthing a quick “sorry” before flashing him an encouraging thumbs-up.

Rousseau turned on her heel and resumed pacing, her sharp eyes flicking around the room. As soon as her back was turned, Tim moved. He surged forward, aiming for her hand gripping the imaginary detonator.

Without hesitation, Rousseau twisted out of his reach. “Boom.” She tilted her head at him, unimpressed. “Force? Really?” A slow smirk tugged at her lips. “Bradford, my guy, what about ‘suicide bomber’ screamed charge at me ?”

Lucy rolled her eyes, and tried to stifle a giggle as she felt Tim's frustration. Of course his instinct was brute force. 

Rousseau continued, her voice gaining a sharp edge as she scanned the group. “Come on! I’m seconds away from taking out an entire building here. Someone give me a reason not to!”

A beat of silence stretched—then Lucy stepped forward. “I can’t imagine how you must be feeling right now,” she said carefully.

Rousseau stilled. Slowly, she turned, her eyes locking onto Lucy’s.

“You…” Rousseau’s lips curved, just slightly. “You just earned yourself ten more words.”

Lucy’s heart stuttered with excitement. She rocked onto the balls of her feet, practically vibrating with excitement as she nodded.

The training session stretched through the morning, an intense mix of rapid-fire scenarios, de-escalation techniques, and Rousseau’s sharp critiques. By the time they broke for lunch, Lucy was buzzing—exhausted but exhilarated.

She lingered by the door waiting for Tim, when she noticed Lieutenant Rousseau watching her with an appraising gaze.

“Hey, it’s Chen, right?” Rousseau said, crossing her arms. “Listen, I was really impressed by you today. You nailed… every scenario.” There was genuine admiration in her voice, though it was laced with curiosity. “What’s your background?”

Lucy straightened, “uh, psychology, ma'am.”

Rousseau nodded. “Mhm. Yeah, I can tell.” She tilted her head. “What are your plans for the future?”

Lucy hesitated for half a second before answering, her heart picking up speed. “Actually, ma’am, I wanted to join your team. I’ve always felt like I could help people more on the environmental level—before things spiral out of control.”

For a long moment, Rousseau just studied her. Then, a small smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. “Keep it up, Chen. I've got my eye on you.”

Lucy tried her absolute darndest to keep her cool, to maintain some semblance of professionalism, but the second she was out of Rousseau’s sight, the excitement bubbled up, barely contained. Her fingers twitched at her sides, her breath came quicker, and the grin threatening to overtake her face was impossible to fight.

Thankfully, Tim appeared, feeling the storm of energy radiating off her. Without a word, he wrapped a steady hand around her elbow and guided her into a quieter corridor, away from prying eyes.

The second they were alone, she launched herself at him, arms wrapping tight around his neck. A delighted squeal escaped her as he caught her effortlessly.

“She’s got her eye on me!” she sing-songed, legs kicking slightly in her excitement.

Tim chuckled, the warmth of his pride washing over her. He held her close, letting the joy radiating from her seep into him. He couldn't have stopped the grin tugging at his lips even if he wanted to.

“I knew you’d be great,” he murmured. He tightened his grip, swinging her slightly.

Lucy pulled back just enough to see his face, her fingers gripping the back of his uniform. She felt his confidence in her, unwavering and solid, and it made her heart squeeze.

“You knew, huh?” she teased, her breath still a little uneven from her excitement.

Tim smirked. “Of course I did.” His thumb brushed absently along her side. “You're amazing at whatever you choose to do.”

Lucy beamed, her heart thudding in a different way now—still fast, still excited, but threaded with something deeper.

Tim held her for a moment longer before giving her one final squeeze and setting her back on her feet. He scanned the hallway quickly—cop eyes—before tilting his head down and pressing a light, fleeting kiss to her lips.

“You gonna be able to concentrate for our meet with IA this afternoon?” He murmured, amusement flickering in his eyes as he felt the lingering thrill still humming through her. 

Lucy scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Pssh, babe nothing can bring me down right now. We've soooo got this in the bag.” 

Tim smirked, clearly entertained by the sheer buzz of energy rolling off her. He tapped the end of her nose playfully before stepping back. “Alright. Let’s get you some food before you burn out. You’re running on excitement and decaf—I give you an hour before you crash.”

Lucy gasped, feigning offense as she grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the break room. “Rude. But also… you might have a point.”

- - -

“Officer Bradford,” Commander West began, clearing his throat as he flipped open a folder, and shuffled papers. “We have three recorded instances this year where you called our 10-6. Something you’ve never done in your history with the LAPD. May I assume that these are all related to Officer Chen?”

Tim held eye contact with Commander West, though Lucy could feel a tickle of embarrassment from him. “Yes sir, in all instances, Officer Chen projected to me, and I went to her aide.” 

Commander West nodded thoughtfully but didn’t comment, flipping to another page. He flickered his eyes toward Lucy. “Officer Chen, while you did not cite any occasions of Officer Bradford projecting to you while on duty, you did mention in your relationship disclosure paperwork that such an event occurred. Correct?”

Lucy sat up a little straighter, hands clasped tightly in her lap. “Yes, that’s correct.”

Commander West narrowed his eyes slightly. “But you didn’t disclose it when it happened.”  His tone was not accusatory, merely factual. Still, it made Lucy’s stomach knot.

Lucy shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “Well sir, as you know, I once held the status of being an Unchosen.” Tim’s guilt pulsed for a moment, and she reached under the table to give his arm a subtle squeeze. “It was only my second day on the job, and my knowledge of Officer Bradford was limited to his role as my training officer.” 

West gave a curt nod, pen scratching across the page in front of him. Without looking up he addressed Tim. “Officer Bradford, do you feel capable of completing Officer Chen’s training without bias, or compromising the safety of others in her favor?”

Tim’s jaw tensed as he considered the question. “Sir, I’ll admit that I feel more… protective of Officer Chen than I have of previous rookies. That’s honest. But it won’t cloud my judgment or interfere with my ability to see her through the FTO program. At this point Lopez has guided her through a significant portion of her training. If you review her evaluations, you’ll see Officer Chen has exceeded expectations across the board. She doesn’t need my protection but it would provide me peace of mind for her to have it.”

“I’ve read the reports.” West replied briskly, before turning his attention back to Lucy. “Officer Chen, are you concerned about the frequency of your projections? Do you believe this could present a safety issue for either of you?” 

“I think projections are a fact of life, and the risk they pose is no greater to us than they would be for any other officer.” Lucy answered matter of factly.

West studied her for a beat, then gave a short nod. He cleared his throat and closed the folder in front of him with a soft snap. “Alright. This concludes our review. I’ll inform your watch commander of my decision by end of day. You’re both dismissed.” and with that, he left the room. 

Tim shrugged as Lucy gave him a questioning glance. She quickly rose to her feet jogging a few steps into the hallway to catch up. “Commander West, sir!”

He turned at the sound of her voice, tucking the folder under his arm. His hand came up to stall her. “Lucy, you know I need to remain impartial.”

“I know,” she said, already deflating a little. Her gaze dropped to the floor before lifting slowly to meet his again. “I know, Papa West. But... I just..”

His face softened immediately, “Lucy, you’ve been like a daughter to me since you were yay high.” He held his hand at waist-height in demonstration.  “But I will never forget the day your paperwork landed on my desk last year. It's a once in a career file, and I hated that it had your name on it, and that I had to investigate your application.”

Lucy blinked hard. “Not every soulmate story is clean or easy,” she said quietly. “Some start off messy. Some take a while to find their footing. But I genuinely believe I’m not an Unchosen anymore. Doesn’t that count for something?”

West inhaled slowly, his eyes narrowing as he studied her. “You're sure you want this?” 

Lucy nodded resolutely. 

A long silence passed before West finally gave a small nod. “Okay.”

As promised, Commander West’s approval came through by end of day.

Tim and Lucy were officially cleared to ride together again.

For the first time, Lucy felt like everything was falling into place. She had a career that challenged her, one that she was truly passionate about. She was building a path forward that, for once, wasn’t just about proving herself, but about shaping the kind of cop she wanted to be.

And Tim was at her side, in every way that mattered.

Still, Lucy felt that odd little… tickle that quietly flared, with increasing frequency, whenever she did something to make Tim smile. Like when she'd crack a dumb joke, or dance around his kitchen barefoot, or even just look at him a certain way.

She couldn't quite put her finger on what it was, couldn't quite name the way it made her feel in turn. So, she left it alone, not wanting to burst their happy little bubble by questioning it. 

- - -

They hadn't been on their beat for even an hour before the call came in from dispatch. 

“All units, be advised of an amber alert. Female newborn, taken from City of Angels Hospital. Suspect is considered a mental health risk. Further details being sent to your box.” 

Tim was already reaching for Lucy's hand before he heard her sharp intake of breath. “Breath Lucy.” He said with a squeeze. 

“It's a baby. Tim, it says here she was only born this morning, she's just a few hours old.” Lucy said desperately, as she tapped on their computer.

“Officer Chen, worrying about those details is not going to help us find the child.” Tim said sternly, shifting quickly into TO mode. Lucy needed direction before she started to spiral. “Think back to training, what would a CIT officer do?” 

Lucy blinked hard, nodding as she pulled herself back. “Right. Right, okay.” She took a deep breath, fingers moving quickly over the keys. “Um. It says here the suspect—Rita, recently lost her baby to SIDS. So my guess is she's in some sort of psychosis and took this baby as a replacement of sorts.” 

Tim nodded agreeing with her assessment. “Okay, so she's a grieving mother. If we find her, that's how we treat her. She's not just another thug on the streets. This woman is hurting, and needs help.” 

Soon, though not nearly soon enough, reports from Airship Three came in. “All units, we have eyes on the suspect. Fourth Street Bridge. She has the baby. She's standing at the railing. Possible jumper.”

Tim flipped on the sirens, “Here we go.”

- - -

When the chaos had settled, once Rita and the baby were safe, Tim pulled Lucy into the quiet of his house. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, drawing her into his chest. His lips found the curve of her neck, trailing gentle kisses soothing the tension of the day.

“I was so proud of you today,” he murmured. “The way you talked her down, how calm and present you were. You helped save two lives, Lucy.” Another kiss. “You’re going to be an incredible CIT officer. You already are.”

Lucy's heart swelled with his words.. and something else. Curiosity finally getting the best of her, she turned in his arms, searching his eyes. “There it is again,” she said quietly, brows furrowing. “What is that?”

Tim blinked, slightly thrown. “What do you mean?”

“That… feeling.” Lucy clarified. “You been feeling a certain way for a while now… and I just can't figure out what it is. And you felt it again, just now.” 

“You don't know?” he asked softly. 

Lucy shook her head, her brow creased in honest confusion. “No, you've never felt anything like it before.. Neither have I.” She gave a helpless little shrug. “I've been trying to name it but.. it's just out of reach. I like it though, it feels.. warm. Somehow.”

Tim’s shoulders dropped, and something fragile flickered behind his eyes. He cupped her cheek in his calloused palm, his thumb brushing gently along her skin. “I'm sorry.” he whispered. 

“Why?” 

“Because everyone should get to feel the way I feel. And… I hate that it took so long for you.” 

Lucy stood frozen, her mouth parted slightly, searching his eyes.

“Lucy…” Tim inhaled, steadying himself. “I'm.. I'm falling in love with you.” 

Her breath hitched and her heart pounded as she took a small step back, eyes wide.

“Y-you’re… what? No. No,” she stammered, shaking her head. “I know what that feels like. You've felt that before. At your wedding—right before you projected. This is different, it's.. I don’t—” her voice cracked, “I don’t understand.”

“Lucy, baby stop. It's okay.” Tim said gently, pulling her closer once more. 

Lucy wiped harshly at her face as tears welled. “All I ever wanted was my soulmate to want me. To love me “

“And I do, Lucy.” Tim said fiercely, “I do love you.” 

She looked up at him through wet lashes, “But… but you called her baby too.” she said weakly. 

Tim’s breath caught, and he instinctively reached for her hand, his own trembling faintly as her sorrow coursed through him. Without a word, he gently guided her to the couch, sitting down and drawing her into his lap, cradling her close. Her body was tense at first, but she didn’t pull away.

“I didn’t realize I did that,” he said softly, shame flickering through him. “I’m sorry, Lucy. I am. So damn sorry.”

He exhaled hard, burying his face in her hair for a moment, grounding himself in her before pulling back just enough to look into her eyes.

“I never want to hurt you again. Ever. And I swear to you, I will spend the rest of my life making sure you know how loved—how deeply, and irrevocably loved—you are.” His hand brushed her cheek again. “If I ever say or do something that makes you uncomfortable, I want you to tell me. We’ll talk about it. I’m very handsome,” he added with a small, lopsided grin, “but underneath it all, I’m a little smooth, you know? I won't always get things right.”

Despite herself, Lucy let out a short, watery laugh. “Yeah… yeah, okay. I can work with that…. But, what about the way you felt at your wedding, it feels so different than this feeling now?” 

Tim thought long and hard, taking his time to collect his thoughts before responding. “I think it was a different kind of love. The love I had for her was born from a sense of duty, from trying to do the right thing for her, you, me.. everyone. Where the love I have for you it's… bigger.”

He leaned in closer, resting his forehead against hers. “What I feel for you, Lucy… It's pure, it's peaceful, and all encompassing. Lucy I look at you and I feel whole in a way I never have before.”

She stared at him, lips parted, eyes wide—completely stunned. His love moved through her, pushing gently against every remaining piece of her heart she'd kept guarded for so long, until she felt as full and whole as he described. 

She couldn’t find the words, none would have been enough.

So she didn’t speak.

Instead, she leaned in, her hands threading through the back of his hair, and kissed him. Fiercely. Desperately. Full of everything she couldn’t quite yet say aloud.

~ 4 Years Later ~

Tim arrived home, his shoulders aching from the weight of the vest, and the slow burn of another long day as a Sergeant—juggling egos, crises, and decisions that sometimes felt heavier than any gear he carried. But still, he wouldn’t trade it. Not for a second.

The front door clicked softly shut behind him as he toed off his boots, calling out expectantly.

“Lucy?”

No answer.

Tim moved through the house slowly, careful not to disturb the quiet. When he reached the spare room door at the end of the hallway, he paused.

Not the spare room, he corrected himself quietly.

The nursery.

He could hear Lucy's voice, soft and melodic, reading aloud. For a moment, he simply stood there, one hand braced on the doorframe, listening. 

Once upon a time, there lived a prince. As a young boy, the prince knew the love and care his parents gave him, but as he grew older he started to feel something else, or maybe, someone else. 

The Queen had told him long ago, that if he was lucky, he would one day recognize his soulmate. The partner he was destined to traverse life with.

"Sleep my little prince, for one day you'll feel the person you're meant to be with. You may not know them to see them, but you'll know who they are at their core, for you will have known their most intimate self."

"But mother, if I haven't seen my companion, how will I know who they are?"

"That's the magic, sweet prince. You will come to feel the way they feel. When your companion is happy, or sad, you will also feel happy or sad. That's the beauty of the connection." 

As the prince grew older, he often thought about what his mother had told him. He longed to find his soulmate, the one who would complete him. But as he met different people, he never felt that spark that his mother had described. He started to lose hope that he would ever find his true love.

Quietly, he pushed the door open just a little more, peering in to see Lucy nestled in the rocking chair, gently rubbing her ever growing baby bump. 

“'I’ve never heard you read that one before.” He said softly.

Lucy beamed as she looked up at him, her wedding ring softly glinting from the light of the lamp next to her. “The team stopped by today, threw me an impromptu baby shower. Streamers, cupcakes—Angela cried and blamed hormones. Jessica got the book for me, it was my favorite as a kid.”

She winced and pressed a hand to her side. “Oof… she's been doing somersaults all afternoon. The sound of my voice is the only thing that's calmed her down.”

Tim crossed the room, lowering himself to the floor beside her with a quiet grunt. He leaned into her legs and rested his head on her knee, one hand reaching up to cover hers where it rested on her belly.

“Well,” he said with a grin, tilting his face to look up at her. “Don’t let me interrupt you, Sergeant Bradford… let’s find out how the story ends.”

One day, the prince went for a walk in the forest. As he was admiring the beauty of nature, he heard a sweet voice singing. He followed the sound and found a young woman sitting by a stream. As soon as he saw her, he felt his heart skip a beat. He knew in that moment that she was the one he had been searching for.

They spent hours talking by the stream, and the prince felt a deep connection with her. As they parted ways, he knew he had found his soulmate. They went on to have a beautiful life together, filled with love and happiness.

The prince learned that his mother was right - sometimes, you just know when you've found the one. It may not be love at first sight, but it's a feeling that grows inside you until you can't imagine life without that person. And that, he knew, was the true magic of finding your soulmate.

~The End~