Work Text:
Tim Bradford sat at his desk, staring blankly at the stack of paperwork in front of him. His eyes burned from lack of sleep, and his head throbbed with a dull, persistent ache that had been plaguing him for days. He hadn’t slept well in over a week, and the hours of overtime he’d put in were starting to take their toll.
Lucy sat at the desk across from him, quietly observing him. She’d noticed the dark circles under his eyes, the way his hands trembled slightly when he reached for his pen, and how he seemed to zone out every few minutes. It worried her, but every time she asked him if he was okay, he just brushed her off with a gruff, "I’m fine, just a bad night, Boot."
But she knew better. Tim Bradford didn’t complain about a bad night, and he certainly didn’t show it. Something was wrong, but she couldn’t get him to admit it.
As the hours ticked by, Tim’s condition only worsened. He felt like he was moving in slow motion, his body weighed down by exhaustion. Every muscle ached, and his vision blurred whenever he tried to focus on the computer screen. But he stubbornly pushed through, refusing to acknowledge the fact that he was at his limit.
Lucy watched him like a hawk, her worry growing with every passing minute. She knew something was going to give; she just didn’t know when.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Tim stood up from his desk. He swayed slightly, reaching out to grip the edge of the desk to steady himself. Lucy’s heart leapt into her throat as she watched him, her instincts screaming that something was wrong."Tim?" she called out, standing up as well.
He didn’t respond. Instead, he took a step forward, his legs giving out beneath him. The last thing he saw was Lucy rushing toward him, her eyes wide with panic, before everything went black.
"Tim!" Lucy shouted as he collapsed to the ground, her heart pounding in her chest. She was at his side in an instant, kneeling beside him and gently cradling his head in her lap. His face was pale, and sweat beaded on his forehead. She shook him lightly, her voice trembling with fear.
"Tim, wake up! Come on, you’ve got to wake up!"
Slowly, Tim’s eyes fluttered open, and he blinked up at her, disoriented and groggy.
"Lucy?" he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper.
"I’m here," she said, relief flooding her as she brushed a hand through his hair.
"You passed out. Are you okay?" Tim blinked, trying to focus on her face, but the room spun around him, making him feel nauseous. "I’m…so tired," he finally admitted, his voice breaking. "Everything’s spinning."
Lucy’s heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice. She’d never seen him like this, so worn down and defeated.
"Tim, you should have told me," she said softly, still holding him close. "You need to rest."
Just then, Sergeant Grey emerged from his office, his expression stern as he took in the scene. "What happened here?" he demanded, his eyes narrowing in concern as he looked down at Tim.
"He passed out," Lucy explained, her voice steady despite the worry gnawing at her. "He’s been overworking himself, and now he’s exhausted."
Grey’s expression softened slightly as he looked down at Tim, who was still struggling to stay conscious.
"Bradford, you should’ve spoken up," he said, his tone gentler now. "You’re no good to anyone if you’re running yourself into the ground."
Tim tried to protest, but the words wouldn’t come. He was too tired, too drained to argue.
"Chen," Grey said, turning to Lucy, "take him to get checked out, then take him home. Make sure he gets some rest. That’s an order."
"Yes, sir," Lucy replied, already helping Tim to his feet.Tim leaned heavily on her as she guided him out of the station and into her car. He didn’t have the strength to argue, his body practically shutting down now that he’d admitted to himself how bad he felt.
When they arrived at Tim’s house, Lucy practically had to drag him to his bed. He collapsed onto it, his eyes already closing as he muttered a weak, "Thanks, Lucy."
"Don’t mention it," she said softly, pulling the blankets over him. "Just sleep. I’ll be here if you need anything."
Tim was out before she even finished speaking, his body finally giving in to the exhaustion that had been plaguing him for days. Lucy stayed by his side, watching over him as he slept, her heart aching at the sight of him so vulnerable.
She knew how hard he pushed himself, how he always felt like he had to be the toughest, the strongest. But seeing him like this, she realized just how much it cost him.
A few hours later, Tim stirred, his eyes slowly opening as he blinked in the dim light of the room. He tried to sit up, but his head spun, and he nearly collapsed back onto the bed.
"Easy," Lucy said, quickly moving to his side to steady him. "You need to take it slow."
"I need to use the bathroom," Tim mumbled, his voice weak.
"Okay," Lucy replied, helping him to his feet. She guided him to the bathroom, his steps unsteady as he leaned heavily on her. Once he was done, she helped him back to bed, her grip firm and steady as she eased him down onto the mattress.
As he lay back, Lucy sat on the edge of the bed, her expression serious as she looked down at him.
"Tim, you need to take better care of yourself. You’re not invincible."
He sighed, closing his eyes. "I just…I didn’t want to seem weak."
"You’re not weak," Lucy said firmly, her voice filled with conviction. "You’ve been through so much, and you’ve always pushed through it. But you don’t have to be tough all the time. It’s okay to take a break, to admit when you’re tired or when you need help.
"Tim opened his eyes, looking up at her with a mixture of guilt and gratitude.
"It’s hard. My dad…he always made me feel like I had to be the strongest, that anything less was failure."
Lucy’s heart broke at the admission. She knew about his strained relationship with his father, how it had shaped him into the man he was today. But it hurt to see how much it still affected him.
"You’re not your father," she said softly, taking his hand in hers. "You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. You’ve already proven yourself time and time again. Now, you need to take care of yourself."
Tim squeezed her hand, his eyes softening as he looked up at her. "Thanks, Lucy."
"Anytime, Tim," she replied, brushing a hand through his hair.
"Now, get some sleep. I’ll be here if you need anything."
He nodded, closing his eyes as exhaustion washed over him once more. This time, he didn’t fight it. With Lucy by his side, he felt safe enough to let go. As he drifted off to sleep, Lucy stayed with him, her hand resting on his, her heart full of determination. She was going to make sure he took care of himself, even if she had to do it for him. And as she watched him sleep, she made a silent promise to herself that she would always be there for him, no matter what.
Because Tim Bradford might be the toughest guy she knew, but even the toughest needed someone to lean on sometimes.