Chapter Text
"Look at me. This is your final chance to back out. Do you still want this?"
"Yeah... Yes, I do."
The words echoed, soft but resolute. Yet beneath them lay a torrent of uncertainty—an unspoken question she couldn’t ignore. What if... what if I’d said no? The thought gnawed at her, relentless, as if her entire world hinged on a single choice. But the dam had broken, and now the consequences flooded her life, unstoppable and unforgiving.
Weeks blurred into months. Months of simmering dread, where the past loomed heavy and the future felt like a void, swallowing every ounce of certainty. Lucy spent those days consumed by one obsession: to excel, to be the best in her field. But that level of excellence didn’t come easily—and only a select few could grant her what she truly sought.
Nyla Harper
12:08 PM
Basement Level
The cryptic text arrived abruptly, its tone more unsettling than urgent.
12:09
Don’t ask questions.
Look normal.
Lucy slipped her phone into her pocket, glancing around the bustling office. Everyone was still engrossed in their work, oblivious. Her pulse quickened as she walked—calmly, deliberately—toward the stairwell. As soon as she was out of sight, she broke into a sprint.
The staircase spiraled downward, the air growing colder and heavier with each step. She reached the double doors at the basement level, swiping her keycard to unlock them. The moment she stepped inside, her instincts screamed at her. Darkness swallowed the space, and the faint hum of her surroundings felt unnervingly absent.
Her hand hovered near her holstered weapon, the other tracing the crumbling wall for guidance. The hallway stretched out, oppressive and silent, save for the whisper of her own breath. Asbestos and bad decisions, she thought grimly, trying to steady herself. The thought offered fleeting comfort—until something yanked her violently to the side.
A hand clamped over her mouth. The sharp, chemical scent hit her immediately. Chloroform. Lucy’s body rebelled, thrashing with every ounce of strength. Her elbow connected with her attacker, eliciting a satisfying crunch, but it wasn’t enough. The world swam, her limbs faltered, and her consciousness slipped away.
Voices. Muffled, distorted. Words bled into each other, impossible to follow.
"Did you really have to go that far?"
"Yes. Secrecy is paramount. Even a whisper could jeopardize everything."
"There were easier ways—"
Lucy stirred, groaning softly. Her wrists ached, bound tightly, but the restraint felt... amateurish. She flexed her fingers, testing the zip tie. Her mind fought through the haze, grasping at fragments of memory. The basement. The text. Nyla. Why would Nyla lure her into a trap?
Unless... this is a test?
The realization hit like a slap. Her breathing steadied as she refocused. She had been trained for this. What can you hear? What can you smell? What do you know? Her old training officer’s voice echoed in her mind. The bickering continued, her captors distracted. Quietly, she began to work her hands, the sweat from her palms loosening the plastic. With one final tug, her hand slipped free.
Her heart pounded, but she kept her movements deliberate, pulling the blindfold down just enough to see. Three figures argued a few feet away, their backs turned. Good. Her body coiled with tension as she launched into action.
She took the first man down swiftly, a sharp kick to the knee followed by a twist that dislocated the joint. The second reacted quickly, wrapping his arms around her throat. Lucy countered with brute determination, driving her elbow into his ribs and then delivering a flurry of punches. He fell against the wall, and she finished him with a knee to the groin.
The third man loomed, towering and broad, his presence suffocating. Lucy was bruised and gasping for air, but she squared off.
"Who are you? Why am I here?" she demanded. Blood trickled down her cheek, but her voice held firm.
He didn’t answer. Instead, he lunged, his fist hurtling toward her head. Lucy ducked just in time, his punch colliding with the wall, embedding itself in the plaster. She seized the moment, maneuvering behind him and locking her arm around his throat. His thrashing slowed as he crumpled to the floor.
Panting, Lucy glanced at the downed men. She didn’t wait to see if they’d stay down. Bolting from the room, she sprinted toward the exit. The metallic doors at the end of the hallway began to close. No. Not now. Every muscle in her body screamed, but she pushed harder, diving at the last moment. Tim, even if they were broken up she had to see him again.
She slid under the door just as it clanged shut behind her.
Lucy laid on the floor, gasping. She looked up—and saw Nyla standing there, arms crossed.
“What the actual hell was that?!” Lucy exploded, staggering to her feet. Rage and adrenaline coursed through her. “You knew—you knew—what I’ve been through, and you still pulled this crap?”
“Took you long enough,” Nyla replied, unfazed, pushing off the wall.
Agent Garza, standing nearby, chuckled. “Impressive. I see why you vouched for her.”
Lucy glared at him, disbelief etched on her face. “You lured me into the precinct basement and kidnapped me?!”
“I know the method was... unorthodox,” Garza said smoothly, “but now we know you can handle whatever comes next.”
Lucy’s fists clenched, her pulse hammering in her ears. She wanted to scream, but she bit it back, her breathing ragged as she stared at the smug faces around her. If this was just the beginning, what the hell was coming next?
"And by the looks of it you can certainly handle yourself." Another voice came through. What she presumed was an agent walked through the crowd, a clear discoloration surround his nose and left cheek was clear. He must've been the who had taken her at the precinct.
She could say she was sorry for breaking his nose but then she'd be lying.
"Told you she'd be the best option." Nyla countered, seeing the faces of those who doubted her.
Lucy clenched her jaw, her fists trembling at her sides. She was no stranger to difficult tests, to being pushed beyond her limits—but this? This felt personal.
Her voice, though restrained, cut through the room. “What comes next better be worth the stunt you just pulled.”
Garza didn’t flinch. His calm demeanor was as infuriating as it was calculated. “You want to be the best, don’t you?” he asked, stepping closer. “The best doesn’t happen in controlled environments or with soft reassurances. It happens here—in chaos, where everything is on the line.”
“And what if I’d failed?” Lucy shot back, her voice rising. “What if your little experiment ended with me unconscious—or worse?!”
Garza’s expression darkened. “You didn’t fail, Lucy. That’s why you’re here.”
Nyla interjected, her tone more measured. “Lucy, I get it. I do. But this wasn’t about proving you could survive. It was about proving you could adapt. You have no idea what’s coming, and if you’re not ready, it’ll swallow you whole.”
The room fell silent except for Lucy’s shallow breathing. She scanned the faces around her—Nyla, Garza, and a handful of other agents she didn’t recognize. Their stares weren’t hostile, but they weren’t exactly friendly, either. It was the look of people deciding whether she was worth their time.
Lucy took a step forward, her gaze fixed on Garza. “If you want me to trust you, then start talking. What’s going on? Why am I here?”
Garza exchanged a glance with Nyla before nodding. “Fair enough. Come with me.”
Before she could follow anyone anywhere Nyla had taken the personal responsibiltiy of cleaning Lucy up, taking her to a seperate froom as she applied some ointment to the concerningly dark bruise decorating the side of her forehead trailing down the left side of her face. The other with a deep but small cut.
"I know you're angry at me, but it needed to be done."
Lucy didn't respond, instead rolled her eyes as she kept her mouth shut for the meantime.
"Look you can hate me all you want, but I know you. You're the only one that can pull this off so we need you, they need you." She finished stiching the cut and covered it with a small patch.
"Was all this really necessary?" She asked, her brown eyes tainted with distrust. She looked far better without the blood covering her face and her hair tied up, she still felt like a mess but at least it was a slightly cleaner mess.
Nyla didn't want to be the one to put her through this, but she was her mentor, Lucy had potential she hadn't seen in quite some time. To be able to nuture it then watch her grow into roles where she successfully took down drug syndicates or child traficking rings was an oppurtunity she didn't think she'd have. But here they were, preparing for a mission Lucy didn't sign up to.
"Do you want me to be honest?" Nyla asked, finishing up as she packed away the bandages. Lucy nodded, standing as she got ready to go back and face the very agents who put her through her worst nightmare.
"Yes. I've seen you fail and succeed, even with what happened with the detectives exam and Tim, you still succeeded at gaining intel that helped put a bounty on Monica through interpol, you helped save blair which led to the DA being able to put her behind bars, the officers who were blackmailed got their justice thanks to you."
"So yes this was all necessary because I know you have it in you, whether you choose to walk away after what Garza says is up to you."
She smiled softly at Nyla, even if it was a pretty shitty day her mentor still found a way to cheer her up. That was until Nyla led her to the large conference room.
The stark, windowless room was a sharp contrast to the chaos Lucy had just endured. A single table sat in the center, surrounded by chairs. A projector hummed quietly in the corner, casting a flickering glow on the wall.
Garza gestured for Lucy to sit. She hesitated, her instincts screaming at her to stay on her feet, but she forced herself into the chair, her posture rigid.
“We’ve been watching you for a while,” Garza began, leaning on the table. “Your record, your skills—they’re impressive. But what caught our attention was your resilience. You’ve been through hell, and yet here you are, stronger than ever. That’s not common.”
Lucy crossed her arms. “Flattery’s nice, but it doesn’t answer my question.”
Garza smirked. “We’re forming a new task force. Black-ops level. Off-the-books. The kind of work that doesn’t exist on paper but has real-world consequences. And we want you on it.”
Lucy blinked, her mind racing. “A task force? Doing what, exactly?”
“Neutralizing threats before they become unmanageable. Organized crime, domestic terror cells, high-level corruption—situations where traditional law enforcement can’t operate effectively. You’d be working with the best of the best. People like Nyla, who recommended you.”
Lucy turned to Nyla, who gave her a small, almost apologetic nod.
“And the kidnapping stunt?” Lucy asked, her voice dripping with skepticism.
“A final vetting exercise,” Garza admitted. “We had to see how you’d handle a high-pressure situation with no warning, no backup, and no clear objectives. You passed with flying colors.”
Lucy let the information sink in. This wasn’t just another promotion. This was an entirely different world—one where the stakes were higher, the risks greater, and the consequences unthinkable.
“And if I say no?” she asked quietly.
Garza’s smirk widened. “Then you walk out of here and back to your precinct, no questions asked. But something tells me that’s not what you want.”
Lucy didn’t respond immediately. Her thoughts churned, a storm of doubt, anger, and curiosity. Every part of her screamed that this was dangerous, that she was leaping into the unknown. But wasn’t that what she’d always done?
Another undercover mission, yet this one was different.
It was much bigger, a threat before it even became a threat.
But god did she feel alone.
She wanted to talk to him, be the one who held his hand or the one to kiss his lips. She wanted to tell him everything, cry in frustration as he held her. Lucy craved his touch, his warm breaths tickling her ear or the countless nights proving their love. But most of all she just wanted him, the broken pieces and the whole, she craved each and every bit with her whole heart.
So watching him walk away again didn't help the condescending voice berating her every move.
Neither was watching the countless girls throw themselves at him ever since word got around that they broke up.
Some had the confidence to touch and approach him every second he had away from her.
Why was it so quick for everything to change?
Was it still worth the risk, their entire lives changed for something that wasn't worth it in the end. Except Lucy didn't know- or couldn't remember life before they were apart.
She found herself missing him so much that arguing was her only option, even now as she finds herself in the locker room licking her sheltered wounds he came barraging in, searching the entire precinct before coming here.
“Rough shift?”
The voice startled her, and she turned to see Tim leaning casually against the doorframe. His tone was easy, but his expression was anything but. He knew it wasn't just the shift but she didn't cave despit her heart telling her to.
Instead she scoffed, looking away.
“Thought you went home,” Lucy said, her voice carefully neutral.
“I did,” Tim replied, stepping into the room. “But something’s been bugging me.”
She tensed, trying to appear nonchalant. “And what’s that?”
Tim crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied her. “You.”
Lucy’s stomach flipped, but she kept her face composed. “I told you, I’m fine.”
“Sure. That’s why you’re jumpy, distracted, and bruised all over.” He stepped closer, his voice dropping. “Lucy, I know you. Whatever’s going on, it’s not just a training exercise. So, what is it?”
She opened her mouth, but no words came. His piercing gaze made her feel exposed, like he could see straight through her. And maybe he could. He always had.
"It's.. It's nothing, like I said before. So please don't concern yourself with me."
Tim’s jaw tightened, frustration flickering across his face. "You're hurt, Luce whoever did this to you wasn't just someone you were apprehending." His temper getting the better of him, his steps closing in on her as his eyes glossed over the patchwork of bruises littering her body. The tank top she was wearing only let him see so much before she shrugged on a jumper, backing away from him as she shut her locker with slight force.
Her eyes narrowed. “I said I’m fine, Tim. Why can’t you just let it go?”
“Because I know you,” he said, his voice rising slightly. “And I know when you’re lying. You don’t just ‘get banged up’ in some training exercise. So what is it? What aren’t you telling me?”
Lucy’s chest tightened, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “Why do you always assume it’s your business?”
“Because I care about you!” Tim shot back, his tone edged with anger now. “And because when you’re spiraling, it affects everyone around you—including this team.”
“Spiraling?” Lucy repeated, her voice sharp as she took a step toward him. “You don’t know what I’m dealing with. You don’t get to stand there and act like I owe you an explanation.”
Tim scoffed, shaking his head. “You don’t owe me anything, Lucy. But don’t expect me to stand here and watch you self-destruct without saying something.”
Her temper flared, and she jabbed a finger in his direction. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You don’t know what I’m going through because you’re not in my life anymore. You made that choice, remember?”
The words hung heavy in the air, a stinging reminder of their breakup. Tim’s jaw clenched, and he took a step back, his expression a mix of anger and hurt.
“Fine,” he said after a tense pause. “If you don’t want my help, I won’t waste my time. Just don’t come crying to me when it all blows up in your face.”
Lucy flinched at the venom in his tone, but she refused to back down. “I won’t.”
Tim gave her one last hard look before turning on his heel and walking out. The door slammed shut behind him, leaving Lucy alone in the silence.
Her breath came in shallow bursts, her hands trembling as she leaned against the locker. She hated that he’d gotten under her skin, that he could still make her feel so raw and vulnerable.
But she hated even more that, deep down, she wanted to run after him.
This had to end.
The longing, the feelings, everything that made her want to run to him. It had to stop.
Jamming her fingers through her phone she brought it up to her ear, letting go of a breath she had been holding this entire time.
“Fine. I’m in.”