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Tim watched, helplessly, as the door closed behind (Y/N). He wanted to follow her, but he knew that any imput form him would be useless at best and detrimental at worse.
It was meant to have been an easy day, he could laugh at that thought now. He had grown comfortable, to comfortable. But he had planned for him and (Y/N) take a long weekend off. He had it all planned out, movies rented and cupboards stocked with more food they they could bost possibly eat.
It had been a long couple of months, both he and (Y/N) swamped with case after case at work. So when the last day came before their time off, Tim's head wasn't in the game. He should have been more focussed, if he had, then he wouldn't be here, sitting in a hospital waiting room, drecnhed in his finacee's blood.
It was his fault.
It was all his fault, he would never forgive himself.
It was nearing end of shift when it happened, he took what sounded like an easy call. If he had paid better attention, he would have known how much of a shit-show he was driving into.
(Y/N) had shot him an odd look when he said that they were responding alone. He had said that they didn't need back-up, it was a simple domestic call.
That's another thing he felt like laughing at. He though it was simple. Simple! If the guilt wasn't sitting so heavily in his chest, he might have actually been able to must some sort of reaction to the thought.
But he felt numb. He knew that he had to trust the doctor's to save her. They had brought him back from the brink of death numerous amounts of times, but it wasn't his life at stake here, it was hers. And if she didn't make it, Tim didn't know how he could forgive himself.
The bullet had scraped her neck, breaking the vein. The couple they had been sent to wasn't just having an arguement. The wife had her partner at gunpoint.
Thankfully, the husband wasn't harmed, (Y/N) had made sure of that. She took the bullet meant for him. She had made a split second descision to put her life in front of his. It was her job to do that, Tim knew all too well. But he knew that it was his job as her fiance to put her above all else and he had failed; he failed her.
The rest of it was a blur to him. He knew from the blood on his hands that he had to have tried to stop her bleeding. He could vaguley picture the ambulance that had come to get her and (Y/N)'s attacker running away before she could be arrested.
Everything else was a mystery. All he knew now was that he was in front of doors forbidding the general public to enter.
"Officer," A voice said from behind him. Quickly, he broke from his thoughts. He turned, looking at the nurse before him, nodding to prompt her to continue. "I don't think she will be out for a while, do you know her next of kin?"
"It's me." His voice was shaky and quiet as his spoke. He just about clocked on that the nurse didn't hear him. He cleared his throat, speaking clearly this time. "It's me, I'm her next of kin."
As he spoke, he felt his thoughts clarify for the first time since he saw (Y/N)'s body crumple to the ground. He was useless here but he knew what he had to do.
Ignoring the nurse as she began to speak again, Tim turn on his heels and left the hospital. (Y/N)'s survival was no longer something he could control, the only thing he could do was to catch the bitch who shot her.
That and pray that she would come back to him.