Chapter Text
The first thing Lucy registers, once the dust settles, is the pain radiating from her left leg. With a shaking hand she reaches for the source as she waits for her vision to clear, feeling what she assumes is a small piece of the floor boards sticking out from where it penetrated her skin.
Panic rises through her veins the moment she pulls her hand away and sees red, feeling more blood drip down her face. Lucy tries to take a deep breath, to calm herself down before trying to move, but it’s met with agonizing pain that has her crying out in the abandoned house.
Slowly, she tries to stand from the pile of debris around her, looking down briefly at the wound in her leg and then up to see the hole in the ceiling from where she’d fallen through from the second floor. She settles herself with a hand on the wall, cautiously reaching for her radio so she doesn’t jostle the wood still in her leg and the broken ribs she’s 99% sure she has.
“Control, Linc—“ She tries to speak, using all her strength to press the talk button on her radio. Her voice is hoarse, her mouth dry. She swallows, attempts to clear her throat and tries calling for help again. “Control, 7-Lincoln-300, I’m in distress. I need an ambulance to my location.”
Static fills the air as Lucy tries to breathe and take a step toward the front door of the house. She groans in frustration, and pain, before trying for a third time.
“Control, 7-Lincoln-300, I need help. Officer down.”
The line falls to static again and it’s then she realizes that both the antenna and speaker have been broken and crushed in the fall.
“Of course.” She angrily tosses her radio to the floor, leaning all her weight against the wall.
If she can just make it out to her shop, she can radio in from there and help will arrive in minutes.
Her entire body screams in agony as she tries to walk, shuffle, her way towards the entrance. She can see the sunlight coming in from the open door, and it’s a small comfort to know she’s close to safety. It’s not far at all, fifty feet tops, and her shop is only a few more feet from there.
But every step is more painful than the last and her vision blurs further with every breath she takes. She can feel the blood seeping from the wound in her leg and her head, and subconsciously, she knows she doesn’t have long before she passes out from pain or blood loss.
She just needs to make it to her shop and she’ll be fine.
Lucy moves slowly, one step and then another, her mind already drifting to thoughts of the officers still out on patrol that are depending on their second sergeant, to her friends, Tamara, Tim.
She attempts to take another deep breath, her head starting to feel fuzzy. Collapsing a mere fifteen feet from the doorway, the pain too much to keep going. Lucy props herself up against the dirty wall, taking off her duty belt and then her regular one, using the latter as a makeshift tourniquet to try and stop the blood oozing out of her leg.
She stares out the door, contemplating whether or not to use what little energy and strength she has left to scream for help.
It’s unlikely anyone will hear her, the call had been to clear the place of squatters and she doubts whoever was inside and whoever made the call — most likely someone from the real estate company that refuses to give the project up and never stays to wait for the cops — are anywhere near the house now.
And there is no one on the street that can hear her either. It’s an abandoned cul-de-sac filled with half finished houses and a gravel road, known for trespassing teens looking for a less public place to graffiti and the homeless looking for shelter. It would be a waste of her breath.
Suddenly, she remembers her work phone that should still be in her pants pocket and she reaches for it slowly.
Her heart sinks when it’s finally in her hands, the screen black and shattered beyond repair. Just like her radio, it's broken from the fall and rendered useless.
“Fuck.” Lucy tosses it to her side, peering out the open doorway.
Her head falls back, pounding with a concussion she’s sure, her eyes burning and fear creeping its way into her chest.
She could be here for hours before anyone notices. The city is busy today and they’re short staffed, the radio had been going off nonstop. It’s possible that no one’s noticed that she hasn’t called in code four and won’t for a while.
Except, that’s not entirely true. There’s one person who will notice, who listens for her calls over the radio just like she listens for his.
The thought of Tim has a quiet, broken sob escaping her chapped lips.
They’d only just found their rhythm as a couple again, after months of hook ups and mixed signals and ambiguous talks about their future.
They had sat down, the Wednesday after she fell asleep on him, on what Tim had insisted was not a date. (“Unless you want it to be, Luce, but I have no expectations of anything more than talking.” He’d said with a cute little blush on his cheeks and the tips of his ears as they settled at a table by the food trucks.) And finally, really, talked and put all their cards on the table.
It wasn’t easy, tears were shed by them both, but in the end they decided to try again. Because he loves her and she loves him, and truthfully neither could imagine ever being with anyone else. Though Lucy had a few stipulations, like not moving in together right away as Tim had suggested.
As much as she loved the idea deep in her heart, they needed to settle into their relationship first. She needed to rebuild her trust in him fully first, too.
Given their conflicting schedules that had been harder than anticipated, but they texted all day, FaceTimed on Tim’s lunch break, had many, many talks about everything, and made sure to have a date every time she had a day off. After a month of that and stolen kisses in the parking garage and sleepovers after dates (she really did want to wait on the physical intimacy but Lucy is only so strong and Tim is just so stupidly hot and so ridiculously in love with her that he makes it near impossible to keep her hands to herself. Plus she knows what it’s like to be with him like that, and it’s… The wait ended up lasting all of two dates), Lucy accepted Tim’s offer to move in together.
And now, two months later, she’s back on day shift and everything between her and Tim is perfect.
Tears begin to fall down Lucy’s face, feeling herself grow weaker by the second.
She’s survived a kidnapping, being undercover, an ambush, a damn wildfire and yet this, a stupid accident on the simplest of calls, might be the thing that ends her life.
She hates knowing Tim’s going to be the one to find her like this. There’s no chance he won’t be, and she knows he’s somehow going to twist it to be his fault. Even though it’s merely a freak accident that would have happened to any officer who attached themselves to the call.
But he’s going to blame himself, for not pushing for her to take an aide like he wanted her to, for not realizing she didn’t call in sooner even though that’s not his job.
(He thinks it is, as her partner — both on and off the job. He’d said as much late one night in the early days of their relationship when she asked how he knew to come find her in the freezer she’d been stuck in that one time. Confessing that, ever since she’d been taken by Caleb, and even more so after she stopped being his aide, and he wasn’t always there to have her back, he couldn’t help but listen for her. Always needed to make sure that she was safe, no matter what kind of call she was on, because he’d never be able to live with himself if something happened to her again.)
She takes a breath, as deep as she can manage and tries to sit up further against the wall. Desperately searching for the strength to pull the belt tighter around her leg.
He’ll see her the second he pulls up. She’s right in the eye line of the door.
Hold on for Tim, she quietly tells herself as her vision goes black in the corners of her eyes.
All their plans, the things they’ve yet to do together, Lucy can feel them slipping away as the blood trickles down between her fingertips.
Tim, she thinks as the world slowly goes dark to the faint sounds of sirens outside.
————————————
He’s blaming Nolan’s rookie.
The absolute shit show of a day is entirely the new boot’s fault for saying the dreaded “Q” word in the middle of roll call. Tim’s not even superstitious, but honestly what else could it be?
(Lucy would probably say something about mercury being in retrograde — whatever that means.)
They’re short staffed because almost half the station is out sick or on vacation, there’s some kind of TikTok flash mob trend that keeps popping up at various locations around the city causing traffic jams and other chaos, and it’s possible that every criminal and idiot decided today was the perfect day to rob stores, deal drugs, attempt kidnappings, start neighborhood brawls, and crash their cars.
It’s barely past one in the afternoon and Tim is already dreading the mountain of paperwork he has ahead of him.
The only thing getting him through this godawful day is knowing he’s going home with Lucy.
That they’ll leave the station and go to the home they now share, take their dog for a walk, order takeout and crawl into bed side by side. Where he’ll get to hold her until they fall asleep and she ends up star-fished across the bed.
(How such a tiny person can take up so much space he’ll never understand. But he’ll never complain because it’s a damn miracle that he gets to sleep next to her again, hopefully for the rest of his life.)
“Man, here I thought April Fools was gonna be the worst it ever got.” Miles notes from the passenger seat as he clicks away at their onboard computer.
“Welcome to LA, Texas. Where the city goes crazy on a random Tuesday afternoon.”
They come to a stop sign, and Tim takes the opportunity to rub his temples. Desperately trying to release the tension behind his eyes as the radio continues to crackle on with overlapping chatter.
God, he really can’t wait for this day to be over.
Maybe if they’re lucky, his and Lucy’s paths will cross at the station and he can sneak a quiet moment with her away from prying eyes, perhaps in his old metro office. Nothing inappropriate, but hopefully just a minute where he can hold her.
That always resets his system. Feeling her heart beat with his, her arms around his waist holding him just as tightly as he holds her, being able to breathe her in. It’s like instant relief from whatever is stressing him.
Tim takes a deep breath, opening his eyes and continuing down the road, though his mind stays on Lucy.
As proud as he is that she’s made sergeant, it’s days like today that make him miss riding with her. Being able to sneak glances at her, appreciate the way the sunlight illuminates her face. And while he’d tease her about talking as much as the radio, in reality he’d happily spend hours — days — listening to her ramble on about anything and everything.
He at least gets snippets of her voice over the radio. The weeks when she was on night shift were brutal. Tim had gotten so used to Lucy being a part of his work day that it felt wrong to not have her there.
Especially when their group of friends switch channels and start gossiping like they’re back in high school.
There’s no time for that today, but at least she’s there in the mess of it all.
Or she was…
A sinking, sickening feeling begins to sneak into his bones as he realizes it’s been a while and he tries to remember the last time he heard Lucy.
It had to have been at least twenty minutes ago. When she took the 10-66 at the abandoned housing development because she was closest.
Tim’s blood runs cold as he reaches for the radio. Doing his best to keep his emotions in check. “Dispatch, 7-Adam-100, did Chen call in code four?”
“One moment 7-Adam-100,” Nell’s voice crackles through the speaker.
It’s probably only seconds, but it feels like hours before Nell comes back over the wire. A million awful scenarios running through Tim’s head.
He tries to stay calm, convince himself that he’s overreacting because it’s Lucy and he doesn’t always think clearly where she’s involved.
“Negative, 7-Adam-100. Looks like there was an attempt at a radio-in about twenty minutes ago but it was marked as static.”
Tim swallows back the lump in his throat, locking eyes with Miles. “Give me her last known location.”
Nell rattles off the address as Miles hits lights and sirens.
They speed through the city at break neck speed and all Tim can think about is the damn barrel. Or a new scenario where someone from her UC days finds out she’s a cop and takes her.
Or she’s been hurt. Stabbed. Shot.
He white knuckles the wheel, mildly aware that Miles is talking to him but Tim can’t hear anything over the blood rushing in his ears.
His mind nothing but a loop of Lucy.
Their life together feeling as though it’s slowly slipping through his fingers.
He whips the shop into the half constructed cul-de-sac, his heart stopping when her vehicle comes clear into view.
It then shatters completely when Tim pulls up beside it and sees her.
He throws his door open before the shop is even in park, all but screaming at Penn as he runs up the overgrown path to the front porch.
Knowing his rookie is trained enough to handle what happens next.
“Penn, call an ambulance! Officer down.”
Tim practically leaps into the house, sliding across the dirty floor until he’s kneeling down in front of where Lucy had propped herself up against the wall.
“Lucy. Hey.” His voice shakes as he takes her in. The wound on her leg, still slowly dripping blood despite her attempt at a tourniquet, and the large gash on her hairline.
The slow, barely there rise and fall of her chest.
“Lucy.” He calls her name again. “Luce, can you hear me?”
“Hurts.”
If Tim wasn’t so tuned into her every breath he might have missed her broken, shallow voice. But it’s there, and it brings just a sliver of hope that she’s okay.
“I know, baby, help’s coming. Just hang on, okay?”
Tim knows he shouldn’t, the current cop and former military sergeant in him is screaming to not move her. That he can do more damage without proper help, but she’s slowly sliding down and he can’t let her fall. So instead, he lets Tim Bradford, the boyfriend — the man desperately, hopelessly in love with the woman bleeding out in front of him — win the battle and gently move her. Cradling her against his chest.
Flashbacks of the way she clung to him after he breathed life back into her lungs, stinging behind his eyes.
Her hand, cold and clammy, weakly reaches up. Her fingers delicately brushing against his jaw, her eyes still struggling to open.
“Tim.”
“Yeah, Luce, I’m right here.” He closes his eyes, willing them to stay dry.
To be strong for her.
“Fell.” Her voice cracks, still barely above a whisper.
“What?”
Tim watches her struggle to take a deep breath, swallow and then her eyes finally flutter open.
But their usual brightness has been replaced with a dull, almost lifeless brown.
“I fell,” Lucy coughs and takes another shallow breath. “Through the floor. House is clear.”
“Don’t worry about that right now. Save your energy. Help’s almost here.”
He feels her nod against his chest, her hand falling from his face. Tim kisses her forehead, her skin tasting of sweat and dirt.
“Knew you’d find me.” She smiles up at him, and it feels like his future, his entire world, is looking at him.
Marriage. Kids. A love he’s never felt before her. It’s all right there in her eyes and falling away with every breath she struggles to take.
Anger bubbles up in his chest, not at her but at the universe, at whatever divine powers there may be. The karmic intervention that seems to constantly take just when he’s happy again.
Punishing him for sins he’s long forgotten, the ones he regrets every second of every day. The ones he’s tried desperately to forgive himself for over the last nine months.
Anger at whoever decided not to triple check when all she called in with was static.
Anger at himself, for failing her. Again.
For not insisting harder that she not ride solo, for not realizing sooner that she never called back in with a code four.
The sounds of police cars, fire and ambulance can be heard in the distance, and he tries to swallow back the overwhelming tide of anger and fear.
Only to be pulled back under when her body gets heavier in his arms. Her skin paler than when he found her only minutes ago.
“Love you.” She whispers, her eyes fluttering closed again.
“Lucy.” His own eyes frantically sweep across her face as the sounds of help come to life just outside the door. Feeling his eyes burn with unshed tears. “Hang on for me, just hang on.”
Tim looks up and sees paramedics sprinting into the house, Grey right behind them. They pry Tim and Lucy apart, gently get her onto a stretcher as Grey helps him to stand and walk out behind them.
All he can do is pray, as they load Lucy into the ambulance and he mindlessly follows, that this isn’t the end of her life because she has so much more to do. They have so much more to do.