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Tim clips the radio to his duty belt before making the bold decision to pull Lucy to him. Almost as if it’s instinctual. Because maybe it is. But it also felt necessary. Being trapped while the fire raged around them was probably top five most traumatic experiences of both their lives. And they just needed something to ground them.
Even in the most difficult of times, physical touch was always something they both needed, to feel safe and secure. Even before they were together. A small touch on the arm or a brush of the shoulders spoke volumes of what they meant to each other. Even way back then.
Tim didn’t think about what they were or what they weren’t to each other when he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. He just needed to feel her. Her skin against his. Her heartbeat. And when she returned the embrace, wrapping her arms around his midsection, he exhaled a breath he wasn’t even aware he’d been holding in and squeezed her just a little bit tighter.
He knew she needed this just as much as he did.
They stare ahead. At the devastation before them. Tim glances down at the same time she glances up and he knows they’re both thinking the same thing.
They almost died.
Neither one wanted to admit it in the moment, but the reality was they were extremely lucky. Tim closes his eyes and leans down to press the gentlest of kisses to Lucy’s head and breathes her in. And even with the smell of ash and soot, there’s still that scent about her that is distinctly Lucy. The one he got to know over thirteen months of riding with her everyday. The one he became even more intimately familiar with when they were together. The one he loves and never wants to forget.
They startle apart when his radio crackles to life again. It’s Grey letting them know that air support is on the way to them. Tim acknowledges and thanks him, barely registering the conversation because his focus is on the way Lucy moves away from him. It’s slow, like she’s hesitating. Like she’s not sure if she wants to be away from him. But she takes a seat on the fire protection blanket and pulls her knees up to her chest.
Tim mourns the loss of having her next to him but he has to remind himself that this distance… the separation he feels from her, both literally and figuratively… is his fault. And he has no right to want anything from her right now.
But that doesn’t mean he suddenly forgot how to read her. To tell when something was bothering her. He watched as she fidgeted with her hands. The way she was biting the inside of her cheek. He wanted to do something. Anything. To help calm her down. He wanted to ask what was going on in the beautiful head of hers. But he wasn’t sure he had that right anymore.
So instead, he opted to just sit with her. He took his spot, next to her on the blanket and stared straight ahead. It felt foreign, even after all these months of being broken up, not to reach for her but he hoped that if she needed him, she’d reach out.
He’s not sure how long they sat there. The silence and stillness around them deafening. Tim checked his watch. Out of habit. Grey hadn’t given them an estimated wait time for their rescue. He just hoped it would be soon. They both needed to be checked out and treated for copious amounts of smoke inhalation.
He notices out of the corner of his eye, the way Lucy’s hand twitches. It could just be an adrenaline reaction to the situation they’ve found themselves in. But then it happens again. And finally when he sees it for the third time, he feels before he sees her hand connect with his. It’s soft at first, like she’s testing the waters. Seeing if it’s okay to be touching him like this. He doesn’t pull away. Of course he doesn’t. Because God, of course it’s okay.
Lucy’s grip tightens when she registers that Tim isn’t pulling back. Isn’t jerking his hand away. And when he turns his hand from where it is resting under hers and threads their fingers together, he hears her exhale and can feel her whole body relax in just the small touch of her hand.
“Is this okay?” She asks shyly. Her voice barely above a whisper.
Tim turns to face her. She’s still biting the inside of her cheek, clearly unsure if physical contact with him is something she’s allowed to want.
There’s so much he wishes he could do in that moment to let her know that it’s more than okay. But he settles with a simple statement. “Of course it’s okay Luce.”
And with his words he squeezes her hand tighter to let her know he’s there.
They sit there for a few moments, silence descending upon them once again. And it’s Lucy who speaks up again after a beat.
“Can I confess something?” She says, a little louder than before.
Tim looks at her again, eyes taking in her form. She seems a little more relaxed but he knows she won’t be completely settled until they’re off this mountain.
“Of course,” Tim responds, waiting.
Lucy takes a deep breath. Their hands still threaded together, resting between them on the silver blanket that saved their lives.
“I—,” she started, blowing out a breath, preparing for whatever she was about to say. “I do still love you Tim.”
Her words were soft, barely above a whisper—but they shattered something in Tim’s chest. Lucy, his best friend, the love of his life, the woman he was stupid enough to walk away from, just told him that she still loves him.
He felt the air leave his lungs. Having less to do with their current predicament, and everything to do with the truth bomb just dropped by Lucy. He tried not to seem too eager. Tried to school his reaction. But beneath the surface, his heart was pounding. Because if she still loved him… maybe, just maybe, there was hope.
However, beyond all that, he had an overwhelming sense that there was a but coming.
He watched her carefully. Saw the way her brow creased as she wrestled with a myriad of emotions. She was caught in her own head, trying to make sense of feelings that had probably been buried since that night. He stayed quiet. Giving her space. But the silence between them felt different. It wasn’t the comfortable quiet they used to share. This was heavy. Thick with the weight of everything they hadn’t said. It pulsed between them, a silent reckoning of past mistakes and present confessions.
Tim opens his mouth to respond but before he can Lucy continues.
“I still love you,” she says again. “But I also— I’m also still mad Tim.”
It’s Tim who takes a deep breath this time. And now he doesn’t really know what to say. She has every right to still be mad at him. He took the most important relationship in both their lives and fractured it.
He blinks rapidly, blaming the sudden stinging of his eyes on the lingering smoke, instead of the rising emotions he’s feeling at Lucy’s confession.
“I tried not to be,” she muttered and Tim looked over at her. She was watching him. Her lips were pressed together in a tight line. “Mad that is,” she finished. “I tried to stop loving you,” she kept going and she looked down at the ground, like she was ashamed to admit that. “But that was pretty much impossible,” she added and he tried not to look smug about that fact.
“But I can’t act like you didn’t break my heart. I’m trying to move past it. I see the work you’ve been doing. And I know Valentine’s Day— I know we, it was— well but—,” she cuts herself off, shaking her head.
Tim flushes at the memory of the gala and what happened that night in the hotel room. He didn’t regret it. Neither did she. But they were still so far from where he wanted them to be.
“I get it, Luce,” Tim whispered, giving her a minute to collect her thoughts. “I do. And I don’t expect anything. Believe me. I still love you and whether I tell you out here as we’re facing death or on a random Tuesday in the shop, it will be true all the same.”
Lucy gave him the faintest hint of a smile, squeezing his hand that was still intertwined with his.
“Can I confess something else?” She asked softly, her tone a touch lighter.
Tim nodded gently. “Sure.”
“I still find myself… craving this,” she muttered, giving his hand another light squeeze.
He glanced around, confused. “This?”
“Well not… this,” Lucy said with a small wave of her free hand to indicate their less-than-ideal surroundings. Then her gaze dropped to their intertwined fingers. “I mean this. You. Your touch. It’s still the most comforting thing I’ve ever known.”
She hesitated, her eyes flicking downward again. “I thought I could learn to live without it. And I tried. But once I had it, my body and my brain didn’t know how to not want it anymore.”
Tim’s heart clenched at the flicker of guilt that crossed her face. The last thing he ever wanted was for Lucy to feel ashamed for needing comfort—especially from him. He opened his mouth to speak, but she gently continued.
“Even before we were… us, your touch was grounding. When you hugged me back there,” she paused, lifting their hands again, “it reminded me that things can still be okay.”
He smiled softly, then slid closer to her. For a second, she tensed when he let go over her hand. Worried she may have said too much. But as quickly as that worry had set in, it faded when he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into him again.
She melted into his side without hesitation. No walls, no retreat—just a quiet acceptance.
It felt like a tiny victory.
“You know, Luce,” he said after a beat, his voice low. “I know we’re not— and that’s all my fault. I know that. And I’d never want to make you feel uncomfortable or feel like I’m pressuring you. But if you ever need me—need a hug, a grounding hand, a reminder that everything is going to be okay—I’m always here. You can always come to me. I know you’re still mad at me. And you have every right to be. Hell, I'm still mad at myself. But I meant what I said. I still love you. I never stopped. And I will be here for you in whatever way you need me to be.”
Tim punctuated his speech with the softest of kisses to her head and once again Lucy just leaned into his touch instead of running from it.
“Thank you Tim,” she whispered.
“Always.”
They sat in silence until they heard the faint hum of a helicopter in the distance. They stood quickly, hoping it was their rescue.
Tim caught Lucy’s gaze and grabbed her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“Everything will be okay Lucy,” he said with quiet certainty, as if it were a simple truth.
And somehow, even after everything they’d been through, Lucy believed him.