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The white lights of the St. Stephens hallway blared as a very tired, police sergeant dressed in workout leggings, fraying ugg boots and her fiancé’s old grey hoodie did her best attempt at speed walking without throwing up to the hospital room where he was not supposed to be. She gave a small nod of acknowledgement to the officers in the waiting area, her eyes searching for familiar faces.
“The doctor has been in and out, he’s okay, Chen.” Lieutenant Grey said, raising to meet her. “He’s awake.”
She gave a small nod, tears threatening to fall down her pale skin. “Right. Okay.” She breathed.
“You’re off duty until he’s discharged.” Grey added, giving her a small pat on the shoulder, one that was supposed to be filled with reassurance. “It’s been cleared.”
She gave a small nod of thanks. “Yes, sir.” She said, nodding at Angela, who was standing across from Tim’s bed before she moved to go into the hospital room.
“Timothy, did you get Lucy pregnant?”
“No!”
“Timothy?”
“Yes…”
“You cracked so easily.” Angela laughed. “Congratulations, Dad!” She grinned.
“You are incorrigible.”
“That’s not what Wesley thinks.” She grinned.
“What gave it away?” He asked her, if Angela had noticed, there was a chance other people had too, and they, well Lucy, thought they weren’t ready for that stage yet, telling people.
“Between her being in the bathroom every time I’ve seen her at shift changeover, you ensuring you leave on time every day recently and the fact that she almost crashed a shop last night. It’s obvious.” She shrugged. “I’m also a really good detective, and I’ve done this twice.”
Tim gave her a look, a slightly tired look but a pleading look nevertheless. “Don’t tell people.”
“Fine.” She sighed. “Is she okay?”
“We’re working on it.” He said simply. “This won’t have helped.” He said, gesturing with his right hand to his left shoulder, wrapped in bandages, held in place with a sling. He sighed, glancing at his shirt on the end of the bed.
“Are you okay?” She asked him, tilting her head, raising her eyebrows slightly.
He paused for a second, thinking about how to phrase what he wanted to say. “I had a moment, talked it through.” He shifted slightly. “If you and Wesley can do it, shouldn’t be a problem.” He half-heartedly attempted to joke.
“Oh, you have girl dad, Tim Bradford written all over you.” She smirked, rolling her eyes at him.
He gave a soft chuckle, wincing slightly from the involuntary movement of his shoulder.
She nodded, catching Lucy’s glance from outside the room. “She’s outside.” She said, watching Lucy talk to Grey. “Good luck, she looks mad.” She said, waving at Tim, before opening the door to let Lucy in, swapping places with her.
Lucy stood at the end of the bed for a moment, just looking at him. No shirt, covered in bandages, monitors attached to his free fingers. His lip cracked, a small gash peeking through the bottom of the bandage, and what looked like some deep bruising around his bicep and collarbone. This was not what they’d planned on doing today. Hell, if she was doing what they’d planned today, she would be asleep and have eaten more than a piece of buttered toast when she got home. “Hi.” She greeted, chewing on her lip.
“Hey.” He said softly. All things considered, he certainly felt better than he looked, but that may have been the effects of some of the painkillers. “I’m okay.”
She took a step closer, the dark triangles under her eyes prominent under the fluorescent lights, against her almost translucent skin. “No, you’re in the hospital. And no good phone call starts with, “Luce, don’t panic.”” She said softly. Clearly, she’d spent the entire drive to the hospital spiralling. “I have had an hour’s sleep, and you have one working arm!” She almost yelled.
“Yeah, well, at least it’s not my baby holding arm.” Tim attempted to joke, forcing a weak chuckle.
Lucy just stood there for a moment, eyes narrowing, hair wild as she took in the sight in front of her. “You got hit by rubble.” She said plainly, walking towards the hospital bed. “You got hit by a falling roof beam and when you decided to call me, from the ambulance, the first thing you said was to not panic.”
“It seemed like-“
“No.” She interrupted, eyes wild as she surveyed the bandages across his shoulder and his chest. “You were supposed to be at the station, far far away from maniacs with guns.” There was a hint of desperation in her voice, like he had broken some unspoken promise.
“There were no maniacs with guns.” He gave a small chuckle, wincing as he involuntarily moved his shoulder. “Just a roof caving in and some very questionable building standards.” He attempted to joke, hoping that might get her to crack slightly. He would be fine, in time.
“Tim…” She started, tears beginning to pool in the corner of her eyes.
“Patrol found two children in a crack den, and I was the closest commanding officer.” He started to explain. He could see a part of her want to soften, but could still see a frantic energy off her. “We got the kids out.” He added, hoping to crack a smile from her. “They’re safe.”
“Just the shoulder, though, right?” She said after a minute, having moved to sit in the chair next to his bed.
“Just the shoulder. Clipped a bursa sac, when relocating it though.” He said, moving to grab her hand with the other hand. “You’re going to have to go to that appointment without me.” He sighed, gently stroking her hand with his thumb. “Grey’s not going to let me back for a month, then it’ll be light duties.” He sighed. He’d already had a conversation with the doctor, nothing broken, but bruised and swollen, he probably would not have torn the deltoid had he have not lifted the beam to get himself and the kids out.
She gave a soft nod, biting her lip as she took in the information. “No, I can – we can reschedule that to when you’re out.”
“Lucy…” He sighed, attempting to shift slightly to face her better. “It’s an appointment, there’ll be plenty more I can go to.” He said gently. “Besides, I’d rather you are able to eat something and hold it down for longer than twenty minutes.”
“I can-“
“You haven’t slept properly in at least a week. You almost crashed a shop last night.” He added, raising his eyebrow at her. “Grey told me before roll call.” He amended, before she got the chance to ask how he found out.
“I ate some toast this morning.” She murmured, her other hand grabbing the quilt cover, finessing it, avoiding his eyeline. “The shop didn’t hit anything. I hit the brakes before it hit the hydrant and then went back to the station because I felt dizzy, and recognised this was not a good way to be driving.” She explained.
“Luce…” He sighed. “You’re nine weeks pregnant.” He used his free hand to gently lift her chin to meet her brown eyes with his blue. “We’re not playing the avoid this until it goes away game. We both know it doesn’t work that way.”
Her shoulders slumped slightly, her gaze unmoving from his face, she slowly raised her hand to take his free hand away from her face, clasping them together on the bed. “I want you to be there. I don’t want to do this, any of this alone- or just without you.” She whispered.
He gave a soft sigh. “You’re not doing it alone. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I’m scared they will need to keep me overnight or that something’s wrong-“
“We will deal with it.” He cut her off, squeezing her hand lightly. “Besides, I’m not going anywhere tonight. Something about monitoring.”
She gazed at him for a moment, moving for a second to peck him on the lips gently. Momentarily forgetting about the cut on his lip. “Sorry.” She murmured.
“We heard the heartbeat at the viability scan, I’m not missing out on hearing it for the first time.” He reassured her in a hushed tone. “You just have to go upstairs, and I’ll be right here when you’re done.” He said as she sat back in the chair.
Lucy gave a soft nod, chewing on her lip again. “Right.” She said softly.
“You can take someone if you want. Angela knows.” He suggested, one could argue that he was trying to be helpful,
“What do you mean Angela knows?”
“She asked me point blank, in a voice that told me she already knew.”
“But you told her.”
“She’s a detective.” He paused for a second. “She was probably going to tell you she knew the next time she saw you anyway.”
“Not the point.” Lucy said, standing out of the chair, throwing him a pointed look, that might have looked scarier if she had have felt any better. She swayed a bit, regaining her balance, digging her fingers into the white sheets until her knuckles resembled the colour of the monitors Tim was hooked up to.
Tim twisted, grimacing in pain as he did, using his operable hand to steady her, placing it on the small of her back, checking that she didn’t fall. “You okay?” He asked once she stopped.
She gave a small nod. “Yeah. Dizzy.” She breathed. “You?”
“Mhmm.” He didn’t move his hand away from her, just keeping her still. “Totally fine.” He grumbled.
Lucy stared at him for a second, before releasing the tension from her knuckles, releasing the blanket from her grip. “You’ll be here?”
“I’ll be here. Far far away from maniacs with guns.” He promised, still not moving a muscle away from her.
Lucy gave a weak chuckle, nodding after a moment. “I love you.”
“Love you too.” He watched as she started to put one foot in front of the other in a measured pace, ensuring her balance with each and every step she took, out of the room and towards the elevator. Once she was out of view, he twisted back, grimacing and attempting to not make any noticeable noise as he moved back to what one might consider a semi-comfortable position.
A couple of hours filled with another dose of painkillers, talking to doctors and colleagues popping their heads in to check on Tim with well wishes, and a phone call from Genny promising to pick up Kojo, and Tim promising that she didn’t need to come to the hospital for a shoulder injury, which was then purposefully ignored by her bringing a change of clothes for both Lucy and Tim and a small dose of “you superman-ed it.” He spoke to what seemed like all of mid-Wiltshire from Nolan, Harper, Grey, Celina and Thorsen (even if he had gone to North Hollywood, he was just as much a member of the team, or at least that was what Celina was saying as she dragged him into the hospital room with her), and Penn with his southern apologies and insistence that the children were safe and that he should have gone inside with Tim.
Lucy walked back in about two and a half hours later, closing the door behind her, and sitting in the chair next to his bed, walking in a slow beeline. The hallway was clear, all the officers outside had either returned to shift, or clocked off, leaving a small myriad of gifts littered around on non-essential surfaces, including three bouquets of flowers a couple of boxes of chocolates, a blue teddy bear holding a red heart embroided with “get well soon” and a bunch of balloons. On the duffel bag brought back by Genny with clothes for the couple sat a plain paper bag with ‘Lucy’ written on it in neat cursive and ‘+ Tim’ in smaller, more erratic letters, clearly done by Angela. “Hey.” She said softly, letting herself slump into the chair, popping the white paper bag she’d been clutching on the table next to the flowers from Grey and Luna.
“How’d it go?” He asked, nodding in greeting. He could see she looked even more drained before, but didn’t seem to have the dizzy look in her eyes like she did when she left.
She looked back at him. “Baby’s okay. I have more sonogram pictures.” She said, her voice quiet. “They ran some blood tests, put me on an IV for liquids,” she raised her arm with a bandage on it, “right, wearing a hoodie.”
“That’s good.” He said softly, choosing to not chuckle at the attempt to show him the bandage.
“They’ve given me stronger anti-nausea pills, so hopefully that helps.” She continued. “I’ve also got a medical certificate to hand in. Low stress calls where possible.” She gave a half chuckle.
He nodded, meeting her gaze. “We figured that was coming.” He remarked.
“Basically, if I can’t hold any food down for 24 hours, back here we come.” She sighed. “If I faint and lose consciousness, back I come. If-“
“I get it.” He held up his non-injured hand to get her to stop, she was going to spiral if she continued. “Anything that is regular amounts of concerning or higher, we come back here.” He agreed. He let a beat pass, eyes soft as he watched her settle slightly. “Are you feeling any better?”
“A little bit, not dehydrated anymore.” She shrugged. “Not quite as nauseous. You?”
“Still sore, but the painkillers work.” He admitted. “Had what seemed like the entire precinct come in and check that I was in the hospital bed, and not trying to escape.” He half-chuckled.
Lucy raised her eyeline slightly, absently pulling the hairtie out, letting her curls fall. “I mean, you do have a history of not doing what you’re told in regards to medical advice.” She half-joked. After a minute or so of comfortable silence, she looked around at the flowers and gifts. She stopped, tilting her head to the side slightly, looking at the paper bag addressed to her, and Tim, but mostly her. “What’s that?”
“That is a gift from Lopez, and Wesley.” He said. “There were instructions for you to open it.” He said as she reached slowly to grab it from the nearby chair. At her eyebrow raise, he gave a small smirk. “It’s not rigged.”
“No, Lopez wouldn’t do that in a hospital.” She chuckled, opening the paper bag. She pulled out a small card with many crayon colours and what looked like the attempt of a four year old to draw a dinosaur underneath that. She opened the card, reading it aloud for Tim:
Dear Lucy & Tim
Congratulations!!!
We cannot wait to watch this new chapter of your lives and meet my godchild.
Love,
Angela (Tim’s BFF), Wesley, Jack & Emmy
P.S. I did ask Jack to draw a baby, and he decided a dinosaur was a better choice.
Lucy just sat there for a second, the card in her hands and the paper bag on her lap. “So everyone knows then.”
“Only the Lopez-Evers household.” He corrected, his gaze soft as he looked at her. “Harper probably also knows, but she won’t say anything until we tell her, or someone says something stupid.”
She sighed, shaking her head. Popping the card on the bed for him to look at. She reached into the bag, placing the contents into her lap. She held up a newborn onesie and a pair of baby sized combat boots. “That’s very cute.”
“Add the boots to the collection.” He chuckled.
“We could make a mobile of baby boots, to go in their room.” She suggested. “I mean, I still have the ones from my plan to tell you. And from when you became a sergeant.” She said, a gleeful smirk dancing across her features.
He nodded, chuckling slightly at the memory. “To be fair, you were so tired, and felt like crap, you didn’t have time to do anything.” He chuckled. “You still hid all the boots around the house. I just knew what you were doing at the time.”
“I stand by that idea.” She feigned a pout, poking her bottom lip out as far as she could. She put the boots next to him, down on the bed, and looked at the onesie, with the words #GrumpyCop is my dad in bold letters as she turned it around to the front.
The scowl on Tim’s face that could have been trademarked by now, often reserved for rookies flashed as he read the words. “Why?” He asked.
“She got it personalised.” She laughed, “Oh, we’re keeping this, and putting the baby in it for photos, and then when they grow out of it, I’m framing it.”
“No, Lucy-“
“Absolutely.” She grinned. “That’s fantastic.” She said, pulling her phone out to thank Angela by text.
He watched her, rolling his eyes fondly at her as she put the onesie, boots and card back in the paper bag, and place it back on the chair, resuming its previous position. They would be okay, they would be just fine. They would work it out, together.