Chapter Text
1. First Shift
The first time Lucy talks about her parents with Tim is at the start of her first shift. He had asked why she wanted to be a cop. Claimed he needed to know who she was and why she was here to train her better. Later she knew it had also been a distraction, to have her lower her guard so he could catch her out.
But… spite?
Had it really been out of spite.
Sure she was upset with her parents. Angry they had forced her into therapy even when it was the best thing that ever happened to her. When shit hit the fan during her high school years they hadn’t understood. They’d been… oppressive. But at least they had the grace to understand she needed help.
Lucy had felt broken ever since that first session.
Her parents were helping damaged people, broken people, that’s what she had thought. Or rather, they were helping sick people. As a child that translated to people being vulnerable and needing support. She understood that when she was little, she understood that sick people need care before they can be better.
Teenagerhood just complicates things, is all. Made it harder for her to understand. Well, she understood anxiety and depression a little too well. Which led to shame and avoidance and eventually she couldn’t stand being around her parents.
At first it was out of fear, she was terrified they would psychoanalyse her and see there was something wrong. That they would scorn her for it or send her away.
Then she was worried they would think she was lying. That it was just a phase or just one of those things she had to tough out.
Lucy had never thought people could go to therapy for everyday issues.
Her parents had worked in the extremes. Victims of domestic violence, abuse, rape all horrible things. But they were trigger events. Something bad hurt these people and they needed help and guidance to heal.
Nothing bad had happened to Lucy. Bad things only started happening once she already felt like she was over the edge.
Which created this, what she now knew was ridiculous, the idea that she wasn’t allowed to be upset. That she couldn’t be suffering because nothing had happened to her. Nothing had gone wrong, no one had hurt her so why did she feel so low?
Therapy had helped though she had refused it for a long time.
Didn’t want to be like her parents or feel like her parents were creeping into her head and pulling her strings. She had this irrational idea that they would use whatever they worked out about Lucy against her.
Which was also a discussion in a later therapy session.
Lucy had felt… vulnerable. Weak. She had got her confidence back but she wanted to feel strong again, to feel useful and needed, and…
She wasn’t sure what the ‘and’ was but she wanted to give back. She wanted to thank the officer who helped her. Who saved her. If Lucy could only help one person like he had helped her then it would all be worth it. And if she could help more people then she didn’t see a problem with that.
Except Bradford would have scoffed at such a cliche answer. I want to help people was quite literally the LAPD catch phrase used in recruiting.
So she hadn’t told him the real reason why she joined the LAPD. Not then at least.
The nurse had seemed a little hesitant to leave her outside of Bradford’s hospital room. She was clearly concerned. Lucy had made the mistake of saying she was a cop and then received a ten minute lecture on not exhausting him with questions and interviews. It had taken a while but Lucy had managed to convince the Nurse that she was his partner (rookie didn’t seem like a good explanation)
Gently rapping her knuckles against the door frame, Lucy peered her head round the open door. She can see why the nurse was concerned, Bradford looked exhausted. For a moment she questioned her decision to drop by with food.
He had been an arsehole to her all day, but he was her TO and he was still a person. Not to mention she had been terrified during the shooting. A terror that certainly wasn’t dissuaded by her Training Officer getting shot.
But he had already caught sight of her so Lucy stepped into the room.
Genuine confusion spread across his face, along with a surprise that was fairly insulting. Probably the same level of surprise Lucy had felt when she realised no one had come to stay with Tim.
“Thought I would come see how you were doing.” Lucy murmurs, pulling a seat up next to his hospital bed.
Bradford straightens up, groaning in pain as he tries to shift fully. Lucy instinctively reaches forward, whether to stop him or help she didn’t know but Bradford’s glare has her leaning back in her seat.
“Well I’m still alive,” He jokes and Lucy cuts him her own glare. “Drop the attitude, Boot. You’re at my sick bed.”
“And I’m the one willing to hold the food hostage.” She arches a brow, raising the takeaway bag at the same time. “Unless of course you want to eat hospital food.”
He rolls his eyes, a gesture of irritation that already has her relaxing. He’s certainly well enough to be his usual self.
“Dish it up then, Boot.”
“What am I, a maid?” She huffs but helps him bring the lap the table over before splitting their food. “I grabbed a few different things.”
“Any food is better than hospital food.” He grunts, “Thanks for this.”
He looks uncomfortable, clealry not sure how to handle thanking his rookie after barely knowing her longer than a day.
“Angela was going to try and stop by…” He trails off pitifully and Lucy finds her heart clenching for him. She had always been a sucker for a sob story. But he was in recovery and she wasn’t here to make life any harder for him so she just waves him off.
“I thought it would gives us a chance to chat.”
“No personal talk, Boot.” His tone doesn’t have its previous bite, which she takes full advantage of.
“No personal talk in the shop, Bradford.” She counters with a smirk, mimicking his tone. “This is a hospital room and I know you’re dying to interrogate me.”
He snorts, “You think too highly of yourself.”
“Maybe,” She reaches for another dish. “But I also know that all of your tests last shift were working out where I stood. Since you’re going to be out of commission for the beginning of my training I thought you might appreciate–”
“You’re worried about me.” He mutters, placing his food down and leaning back to stare up at the ceiling. “Angela can’t come visit and you didn’t want me to be alone.”
She swallows uneasily, “You were just shot.”
“I’m fine, Boot.” He snaps, clearly upset and she wonders what went wrong. “I don’t need you to go all therapist on me. We have an actual therapist for post shootings.”
Lucy stays silent for a little while, considering what she should say next. If he would benefit from having someone who understood or if he just needed her to fill the silence or even leave.
“You never let me explain why I wanted to be a cop.” She states suddenly, decided for a roundabout approach. “It seemed you were happy to make lots of assumptions so I assumed you were curious.”
“What’s there to say, Boot?” He asks, sounding drained. “You’re rebelling against your parents. You’ll prove you can make it past the six month exam and then decide this life isn’t for you.”
It was an effort not to take his assessment personally, to not think he was intentionally calling her out and challenging her.
“Maybe I will quit but I didn’t join as an act of rebellion.”
“Well you clearly want to tell me.” He grumbles but he hasn’t sent her away so Lucy takes that as a sign he’s enjoying having a bit of company.
“Do you know Officer Carter?” He shrugs but she hadn’t expected him to know. “He saved me when I was seventeen.”
Tim twists in place, suddenly giving her full attention as he realises the gravity of her words.
Lucy toys with her fork, poking at her food, “If it wasn’t for him I would be dead. I want to return the favour.”
They fall silent for a while.
“So the therapy from a young age…”
“I’m telling you my reason for joining the LAPD,” Lucy hears her voice grow colder. “Not having a sob story bonding session.”
He nods, “Fair enough.”
She turns back to her food, finishing the last few mouthfuls.
“I joined after I left the army. Spent a while on my own until that didn’t work out anymore.” Lucy looks up, surprised he was telling her this. “Spiralled for a little while with the PTSD, went to therapy, sorted my shit out and realised I missed the camaraderie of the army. That and it was an active job.”
“You preferred the peace keeping missions.” She comments and a rueful smile spreads across his face.
“I did,” He grins, eyes growing distant as he clearly remembers something. “I liked helping people. Building schools, carrying supplies, stepping into a war camp and knowing I was here to help these people.”
“Sounds like you’re well suited to the police department.”
She means it as a compliment but he frowns, clearly unhappy with what she's taken away from his reason.
“It was tough joining, Boot.” He states, voice firm. “I had to keep up with regular therapy. Get used to seeing criminals as people and citizens, not as enemy combatants. All while transitioning back into life at home.”
She nodded mutely, not entirely sure she should say something.
Eventually Tim sighs, “Everyone has skeletons in the closet.” he glances over at her. “Doesn’t stop them from being good cops.”
Lucy smiled, it felt a bit forced but she appreciated what he was trying to say. Part of her felt guilty for letting him comfort her but by god she needed this. Needed to know she wasn’t getting shot at for nothing. That she hadn’t lost before she started.
“Well, Boot, as cliche reasons for joining go,” He jests quietly, “At least you didn’t say ‘because I want to help people’.”
“What?” She scoffs, grinning at her TO. “Like you did?”
A/N: This is one of my first Rookie fics so I'm open to any ideas, suggestions or advice :)