Work Text:
If there was one thing nineteen-year-old Tamara Collins had going for her, it was the fake ID that got her into the best bars and clubs in Los Angeles. It was so good that no bouncer ever questioned it. Which, it should because she wayyyyyyy overpaid on it. It was her fun card. Freedom in a piece of rectangular plastic. It opened the gates to allow her to shut out her current emotional state. She could get drunk and forget. Forget how one single event in her life turned everything upside down. That catalytic event was her internship running out of money, so they had to let her go. She needed that internship to graduate.
Tamara took it personally. She LOVED that internship. She put everything into it. It provided her with a sense of self and a feeling of belonging. Made her feel like she was making a difference in people’s lives. People who lived like she once did until she stole her pseudo sister-maternal figure’s car.
The money Tamara was bringing in from the internship wasn’t bad either. For the first time in her life, she wasn’t scraping by. She could pay all of her bills, put food in the fridge, and have a teeny tiny bit left over to do fun things with. Losing this internship rocked her world, and she lost concentration on every other aspect of her life. She flunked her midterms, despite managing to study. Tamara couldn’t concentrate long enough on the actual words on the page and turned many of those exams in with random answers or nothing at all. She got behind on rent when money kept flowing out of her accounts without her replenishing them. That bank account was close to hitting zero.
Tamara even pushed away people she loved and cared for, including Lucy and Tim. She didn’t respond to texts or calls. Pretended she wasn’t home when Lucy or Tim showed up at her apartment to check in on her, despite their tenacity. Tim and Lucy even sent Angela and Celina over to check in. There was still no response, which was driving Lucy a bit mad. Lucy was incredibly close to having an officer stake out her apartment.
Tonight, though, was early - earlier than Tamara’s normal 12:30 am start. The “I am gonna get so drunk that I don’t even know my name anymore, let alone know how to get home” charade. This time, the clock read 6:30 pm; The city of Los Angeles was only beginning to sit down for dinner. Tamara was already at the bar, hoping that tonight would be what her regimented schedule was most nights, which was always:
- Go to the bar down the street
- Get hammered
- Flirt with cute people at the bar
- Fall into bed with them
- Leave their bed before they even stir in the morning
She was already through the first two items on her list. Unfortunately, the bar was empty, so there was no one to flirt with, which meant that Tamara was not finishing her schedule tonight. Too bad. Tamara pivoted and ordered drink after drink. Shot after shot. She kept going until the bar wouldn’t allow her to order any more alcohol. Tamara slides off the stool she’s sitting on and walks out, wobbling to the front door to call a Lyft back to her apartment, which is technically within walking distance, but there was no way she was going to make it there. Not in this state.
Tamara squints at her phone screen, opening the app up. She tries to read the bright words on the screen, but everything is blurry and hurts her eyes. She manages to set her location for pick-up and clicks on one of the past rides as her destination.
Once in the safety of her Lyft, Tamara closes her eyes, trying to fight back the nausea that is boiling up inside. She’ll be home soon and will be able to sleep it off. Though Tamara doesn’t realize her Lyft is going in the opposite direction from her apartment.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lucy has her arms wrapped around Tim’s waist. Her head peeking out from his left side.
“You’re in your hot chef boyfriend era, and I love that for me.” Lucy shares as she traces her lips on his bicep.
“My sous Chef is such a distraction.” Tim chuckles at her as he turns the burner off on the salmon that he’s been cooking. Kojo is at their feet, trying to catch any scraps from Tim’s cooking.
Tim takes the pan off the heat and moves it to a burner that was not on. He turns around quickly, grabbing Lucy’s face with his hand, pulling her to him. His lips pressed against hers. Lucy smiles into the kiss, eagerly accepting it. His body moves into her grooves perfectly, like he was always meant to be there. Tim pushes both of them away from the heat of the stove and up against a counter. The last thing they need is the heat of their relationship physically burning the house down.
There’s a weird scratching noise at the front door. Kojo scampers over to the door to investigate. He sniffs at the door and huffs. It’s an all too familiar smell. He barks. Lucy and Tim ignore him, thinking nothing of it.
More scratching at the door. It’s louder, like someone trying to get in. Kojo barks again, trotting back to Lucy and Tim. His head nudges Lucy’s thigh. Lucy giggles, knowing she can multitask (and well), her lips don’t leave Tim’s, she deepens the kiss, and pets Kojo with one hand. Kojo lets out another huff, barking again and trotting to the front door, lying down at it.
Tim catches Lucy by surprise when he lifts her onto the counter. Lucy’s now free hands fly to the belt on his pants. A bang and a crack at the front door. Loud commotion. Kojo lets out a deeper bark and runs in a circle at the door. He whimpers a little, knowing exactly what is on the other side. He takes one of his gigantic paws and nudges the door. Lucy and Tim pull apart, turning toward Kojo.
“What is it bubba?” Lucy asks, walking over to meet him, trying to figure out what’s going on. Lucy bends down to Kojo’s level, scratching him on the head & underneath the chin a little. “Do you want to go out?”
“He probably has to pee.” Tim shares. He grabs Kojo’s leash and joins Lucy at the door.
Kojo jumps on the doorknob, barking. Lucy and Tim share a confused look, not sure what’s happening with Kojo. Tim clicks Kojo onto his leash, and Lucy opens the door for them.
A half-slumped-over Tamara stumbles through the doorway and falls over.
“TAMARA!” Lucy shrieks, rushing down to her aid. Panic and worry are bulldozing through her.
Tim quickly unclicks Kojo’s leash and instructs him to go to his dog bed. Kojo obliges without protest, knowing something is up.
Lucy is on the ground, kneeling next to Tamara, who can’t keep her head up.
“T, babe - you can’t sleep. Have to stay awake, right now. Okay?” Lucy commands. She can smell the alcohol radiating off of Tamara. “She’s wasted,” Lucy lets out an exasperated sigh, and an irate FUCK leaves Tim’s tongue.
“Lu-Luc-y? T-Ti-Tim?” Tamara stutters.
“Yeah,” they both reply simultaneously, trying to prop her up.
The palm of Tamara’s hand goes to her forehead, and she squints her eyes. A whine escapes her lips, and a headache unlike any other she’s had starts to form. “What are you doing at my apartment?” she wonders in a soft mutter.
Tim and Lucy are a mix of emotions: fear, concern, and anger are at the top.
Tim goes to tell Tamara she did not make it to her apartment, but to his and Lucy’s. Tamara catches him off guard and quickly crawls through the threshold of the doorway. She turns on her side, lurching forward. Tim and Lucy both know what’s about to happen. Lucy grabs Tamara’s hair and holds it back. Tamara throws up in the middle of the doorway, all over the wood floor. They’re both unfazed because they have seen worse things on patrol.
“Kate and Steph are going to kill me.” Tamara groans as spit hangs from the corner of her mouth, still thinking she’s back in her apartment. “They just paid for a cleaner.”
Tim and Lucy look at each other worriedly. “This has happened before?” Tim mouths to Lucy.
“I can’t believe she doesn’t know where she is,” Lucy states, still holding on to Tamara’s hair. Tamara sways, wanting to lie down.
“Nope, you can’t do that, babe,” Lucy tells her. “No lying down, especially not here.”
“Let’s get her inside, and then we can worry about the floor,” Tim whispers to Lucy. “Here, let me take her.” Tim and Lucy swap places so he can pick Tamara up. He swoops in and picks Tamara up bridal style, managing to avoid the puke on the ground.
“You smell like if peach cobbler and Old Spice had a baby. Is that Lucy’s shampoo?” Tamara slurs. Tim rolls his eyes indignantly.
“I’m glad you still have your humor, even when drunk,” Tim tells her sharply. He carries her further away from the doorway, unsure of where to put Tamara.
Lucy stands walking into the kitchen to grab some cleaning products and paper towels.
“Do you want to put her in our room, since it’s the closest to a bathroom?” Lucy asks him, throwing some paper towels down onto the floor to start cleaning up.
Tim nods, “Yeah, we can figure out sleeping arrangements later.” He walks toward his and Lucy’s room. Tamara shifts slightly in his arms.
“Too much motion.” Tamara mumbles. “Gonna be sick.”
Tim’s feet move faster toward his and Lucy’s bathroom. He barely makes it before Tamara is tossing her head into the toilet bowl to throw up again. Tim is catching her hair before she can puke all over it. Tamara heaves into the toilet. She slinks down to the ground, her head hitting the cool tile. Tim sits down, joining her on the ground.
“What did you do, T?” he asks. His voice is laced with worry; anger from earlier subsides. Tamara ignores his question and scoots closer to him. She pushes herself up against the wall, sitting next to him. Fear for her takes over. Fear that Tamara could have ended up in a bad part of town like this; fear that if she was any worse off, they’d be at the hospital. Fear that she even thought this was a good idea.
“Are you real?” she wonders out loud as she leans her head up against him. “Yep, definitely real.” Her face turns a deep shade of pink. Her choices tonight catch up to her for a third time. She crawls forward, throwing up in the toilet again. Tim holds her hair back. His hand is on her back as his thumb rubs soothing circles. Tamara eases her head out of the toilet.
“Bar,” she groans, sitting back, both of them meeting the wall once more.
Tim looks at her, puzzled, trying to understand what she said.
“A bar. I was there.” Tamara gets out.
“You have a fake ID,” it’s a statement of fact over a question, because Tim knows.
Tamara hums a yes, and she leans on Tim again.
"Lucy and I will be confiscating that later,” Tim informs her.
Tamara whines and protests. She sobers up a little at Tim’s words. “I paid too much money.”
“Tamara.” his voice is stern, but even.
“TIM.” Tamara mimics in her best Tim voice.
“Lucy and I cannot have you running around Los Angeles with a fake ID.”
“Okay, Dad.” Tamara huffs out. It comes off as a joke with heavy truth behind it. Tamara doesn’t know what to do, and she wants to push Tim away, but Tim doesn’t let her. He throws a comforting arm around her shoulders. Tamara is grateful for the extra support, both physically and mentally.
Lucy knocks on the bathroom door. Back from cleaning up the entryway. Kojo is right behind her. He makes his way to Tamara and scoots himself between Tamara and Tim, rolling on his back, asking for pets. Tamara giggles and obliges Kojo.
“How are we doing?” Lucy asks. She sits down against the other wall, opposite Tim and Tamara.
“I am making friends with the porcelain throne.” Tamara quips, “Dad is being very attentive.”
Lucy raises her eyebrows inquisitively. “Dad?” she mouths.
“She’s drunk.” Tim points out, shrugging as if it’s not anything, and right on cue, Tamara proves Tim’s point as she finds herself hoisting her head into the toilet bowl again. It’s Lucy’s turn to hold Tamara’s hair back. Kojo is unhappy with Tamara’s movement, and he goes to sit by the double sinks, away from the trio.
Tamara heaves a few more times before she can settle back. Lucy pulls off the hair tie on her wrist, pulling Tamara’s hair back in a quick and easy bun.
“That should help,” Lucy murmurs to her. Tamara nods, scooting over to Lucy’s side of the wall. She curls up in the fetal position, using Lucy’s lap as a pillow.
It’s three am before Tamara can stop puking her guts out and fall asleep. Lucy and Tim also occasionally nod off here and there, but keep an eye on Tamara. She’s snoring when Tim carries her to his and Lucy’s bed. Lucy pulls back the covers, and Tim lowers her gently. Lucy tucks Tamara in, and Tim goes to grab a trash can just in case.
“Mom.” Tamara breathes out; it’s all jumbled, but Lucy hears it and also dismisses it as Tamara being drunk, with no meaning behind it.
Tim comes back with the trash can and places it by the bed. “You take the bed with T. I’ll take the couch,” he informs Lucy. Lucy’s too exhausted to say no and too exhausted to change out of her clothes. She plops down on the other side of the bed. Tim kisses her head goodnight and leaves for the couch. Kojo jumps up on the end of the bed, protecting Lucy and Tamara.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It’s around 10:30 am when Tamara wakes up in Lucy and Tim’s bed. She looks around the room, confused as hell about how she got there, but some memories from the night before play back in her mind. Embarrassment over her behavior was hitting her at every level.
Tim and Lucy are nowhere to be found in the room, and she uses this opportunity to try to sneak out. Tamara tiptoes out of the room and to the front door, still thinking about how dumb she was the night before; how the two most important people in her life had to take care of her because of the mistakes she made. It was mortifying, and she did not want to face them for fear of what they would say or open a can of worms about why she was inconceivably drunk or hear some lecture about underage drinking, though she was only two years out from being 21, so was it really that big of a deal?
“Were you planning on sneaking out?” Lucy’s voice was soft with a slight high-pitched edge to it. Cracks of hurt breaking through her voice.
Guilt electrifies Tamara through every bone and muscle in her body, a dam building up, about to break. A part of her wants to scream and yell and lie - to push Lucy and Tim further away from the pain that resides in her. Another part of her is trying to convince her to stay - to tell Lucy and Tim what’s been going on with her, even if it means sitting in a land of embarrassment. She takes a big breath and turns around slowly. She stands in front of Lucy.
“I-“ Tamara can’t make eye contact with Lucy.
“At least come eat,” Tim calls out from the kitchen, placing the last of the pancakes on a serving tray.
Lucy offers her hand to Tamara, waving her over to the kitchen table, pulling out a chair, and tapping it gently. Lucy walks into the kitchen to help Tim with the food. She grabs the pancakes while Tim takes the pitcher of orange juice and water. A feast of other food is already on the table, just waiting to be eaten. The two take a seat across from Tamara’s empty chair.
“All your favorites are here.” Tim shares gently, placing a few pancakes on a plate. “Bacon, dippy eggs, toast, fruit-“ Tim doesn’t stop. He piles on more food - bacon and a piece of toast. Lucy scoops some fruit and eggs. She’s careful not to break the yolk because she knows how picky Tamara can be about her eggs - if they crack before she touches them, Tamara won’t eat them. Tim grabs one of the glasses on the table and pours some orange juice into it. They both reach over to the other side of the table, setting down the food and drink in front of Tamara’s chair.
Tamara lifts her head, her eyes catching the food spread on the table. Another surge of guilt runs through her. Not understanding why these two are being so fucking nice to her when she doesn’t deserve it. She watches them adding food to their own plates now, completely in tandem, passing their plates back and forth, knowing exactly what the other wants. They swap once more, and Tim leans over and kisses the side of Lucy’s head. Whatever stress lines were on her face evaporated, and Tamara couldn’t help but think that she was the one who placed them there.
“You have work,” Tamara blurts out, stating the obvious and trying to give them a reason why she should leave. “You’re going to miss roll call.”
Tim places his fork down mid-bite. “We called out,” he informs her.
Tamara catches both his and Lucy’s eyes. Her mouth falls open, and she throws them a baffled look. “Mid-wilshire losing two Sergeants?”
Lucy places her fork down too and looks Tamara straight in the eye, “We told Grey we had a family emergency.”
“Are Genny and the boys okay?” Tamara asks, playing dumb. She knows what Lucy meant. She meant her. Tamara was the family emergency, which honestly made her feel worse about everything.
An exasperated sigh leaves Tim. Lucy pinches the bridge of her nose. Toying with the idea of saying something more. She catches Tamara’s gaze again and holds it. It’s wrapped in genuine concern. “Kate called earlier this morning,” Lucy lets out.
A flush of pink flashes across Tamara’s face. She opens her mouth to say something, anything, but only a raspy breath leaves. Tamara tries again. A deeper gasp catches in her throat. A chasm between her brain and her ability to breathe. Her heart pounds loudly, feeling like it’s going to escape from her chest. Tamara’s eyes go to her shaking hands. Her entire body feels like a bomb going off.
“L-L—Lu-Lucy.” Tamara chokes out. That’s when the dam breaks and a tsunami crashes through her. Rivers of tears run off her face. Tamara doesn’t see Tim or Lucy rush from their chairs to her. She only knows when Lucy’s arms wrap around her, pulling her close. A warmth envelopes her: safety & security & love.
Tim hovers between Tamara and Lucy, bending down slightly so he can talk to Tamara on her level. “Mars bars, hey.” Not even the silly little nickname can kick Tamara out of her panic attack. “We need you to take a deep breath.”
“I c—ca-can’t” Tamara stumbles, burying her head into Lucy’s shoulder, still trying to catch her breath.
Tim places a comforting hand on Tamara’s back. He runs his hand in small soothing circles.
“You can, babe.” Lucy encourages her. “Follow my breathing.”
Lucy places her hands on Tamara’s face, moving her head slowly, to her eyeline, making Tamara look at her. “Take a deep breath in and count to four.”
Lucy takes a breath first, and Tamara follows her. They count together. “One…two…three…four…”
Tamara starts coughing and loses her breath again. “I can’t do this,” she whimpers through tears.
“Hey,” Tim coos. He reaches out and wipes the tears hanging on Tamara’s cheek away. “Hey. Yes, you can. One more time. Follow Lucy.”
Lucy starts once more, “Take a deep breath in for four counts.”
Tamara nods, following Lucy’s count again, “One… two…. very good.” Lucy says reassuringly to Tamara and keeps counting, “three… four… Now hold for seven. One… two…. three… four… five… six… seven… and exhale for eight.”
Tamara starts to exhale.
“There you go,” Tim tells her. He brushes a few strands of hair out of Tamara’s face. “Keep going.”
Lucy doesn’t stop the breathing technique until Tamara’s panic attack subsides. With her hands still on Tamara’s face, Lucy wipes away the tear stains. Tamara mutters a thank you, Lucy kisses her forehead, and Tamara reaches out to Tim for a hug. She holds on to him for an extra long second before letting go.
“I’m sorry,” Tamara sheepishly states. ”I should have never shown up at the house that drunk. Honestly, it’s kind of embarrassing that both of you had to take care of me last night.”
Lucy shakes her head, “Tamara, we’re more worried about the self-medicating with alcohol and the underage drinking. If you need help-“
“No. It’s not like that. I promise.” Tamara interrupts quickly, lying through her teeth and hoping that Kate - one of her roommates and best friends - didn’t tell them everything. Tamara sticks her tongue out in disgust. “I’m never doing that again. That was not fun.”
Lucy and Tim eye Tamara, not really believing that last night was a one-off.
“I need to confiscate your fake ID and go back to that bar that can’t tell a real ID from a fake one,” Tim informs her, mumbling the last part.
Tamara protests and rolls her eyes hard. Only easing up when Lucy gives her a stern look.
“Fine.” Tamara sighs, “But don’t get mad at the ID.” Tamara’s face turns into the human form of the grimacing emoji. Tim rolls his eyes, and Lucy lifts a questioningly eyebrow at her.
Tamara falters before grabbing her wallet and pulling out the fake ID. She paid good money for that thing. Tamara hands the ID to Lucy first; she’s caught by surprise when Lucy doubles over in laughter. Of course, this was the name that Tamara would choose. Lucy hands the fake ID to Tim.
It reads:
Alice May Bradford-Chen
DOB 12/28/1999
3483 Amherst Avenue
Brentwood, CA, 94513
Tim stares at it, flabbergasted. Anger crosses his face, but quickly fades when a realization hits him. He replaces it with a smirk. Tim turns to Lucy, teasing her, “I told you that Bradford-Chen was the superior hyphenated name.”
Lucy rolls her eyes, ignoring Tim’s commentary. She takes the ID back, “I still can’t believe you took two names off our baby name list.”
This makes Tamara laugh for the first time in a long time. Lucy rereads the ID, “Tim’s badge number as your address and our anniversary day as your date of birth is a nice touch.” Lucy pockets the ID again.
“You know what this means, though?” Tim smiles with a devilish grin on his face. He whispers something in Lucy’s ear that Tamara can’t catch. Lucy giggles mischievously.
“If you’re taking our names.” Lucy starts. There’s a brief pause, “That means we get to ‘ground’ you,” Lucy says in air quotes.
Tamara’s mouth falls open, feeling completely unprepared by that response; she should have seen that coming. “Okay. Mom. Dad. I’ll bite.” Tamara jokes, with a smile. Tim breathes out a laugh, and Lucy and Tamara make eye contact briefly. There’s a weight - a heaviness - that hangs in the air. Tamara’s never really said it out loud - other than tonight- but most days their relationship feels like a deep-rooted sisterhood, while on the rare occasion it feels maternal. This current moment and last night feel like the latter. Maybe in another time, in a different universe, the situation would be different. She would actually be Lucy’s kid - Tim’s too. A kid who knows what unconditional love feels like. What it feels like to come home to worrying parents because you broke curfew. A kid who believed in Santa Claus until they were 12, because their parents kept the magic alive. A kid who knew what birthdays were like and what it was like to have someone come to your school functions.
Lucy reaches out and squeezes Tamara’s arm gently, “Me too,” she mouths. It’s almost like she’s in Tamara’s brain. Almost.
“So, what’s my punishment? Is this a no phone for a week kind of situation?” Tamara chides.
“That wouldn’t be a bad start, but no.” Tim chuckles.
An unspoken agreement falls between Tim and Lucy. They exchange a shared look.
“Breakfast,” Lucy informs her.
“Breakfast? That’s it?” Tamara asks, bewildered.
“We can talk more about it when we sit down.” Tim shares, nodding his head toward the table. “Come on.” He puts his hand on Tamara’s shoulder, guiding her to the chair.
“Would it be, um, would it be okay if one of you sat next to me?” Tamara wondered, with wide, curious eyes. She didn’t want a great divide between them physically or mentally. Plus, there’s a part of her that wants to soak up the security that she feels around them. They always let her be a regular nineteen-year-old teen around them. Without hesitation, Tim grabs his plate and moves it to a spot next to Tamara. He sits down.
“Thanks, Dad,” she replies with a big smirk and heartfelt honesty. The joke already feels like it shifted their reality.
“Anytime Mars Bars,” he smiles, gently nudging his shoulder with hers. She returns the same smile, but it quickly fades when she realizes that the food has turned cold. Upset at herself for being the reason for the cold food. She frowns.
Lucy picks up on it, “It’s food, Tam. It can always be reheated.”
Tamara takes a bite of the pancakes. Her eyes widen in shock, “Are these banana??”
Tim and Lucy both grin. “With chocolate chips, yeah. It’s the recipe you and Lucy hung on the fridge months ago.” Tim shares, proud of himself for a job well done.
Tamara turns a bright shade of red. Flustered by the thought that after everything she put them through last night, they still did this for her. That guilt, that overpowering anxiety, rises again, ready to escape. Words leaving before she can even really think about what she’s saying, “Why are you doing this? Why are you being so nice to me?” her voice on the line again, filled with high-pitched emotion. “I showed up to your house drunk, I-“
Tim interjects, raising a hand to stop her from talking, sensing another panic attack rising. “Because we love you, Tam.” His answer is simple and caring. Tamara wants to bite back, but Tim continues. His voice is steady and earnest, “Just because you make mistakes doesn’t mean you are unworthy of love.”
Tamara’s eyes gloss over, and Tim reaches out, wiping a tear that falls. “People who are hurting need to eat too,” he adds.
Tamara nods, accepting his answer. She eagerly dives back into her pancakes because she is hungry.
She’s a few bites in before she talks again, “So… how much did Kate tell you?”
Tim and Lucy look at each other, trying to decide what to say, but the answer is on their face, and Tamara knows.
“So, everything.” Tamara sighs, annoyed. They nod in confirmation, so they knew she was lying when she said last night was only a “one-time thing”; they know about her losing her internship, the roommate drama, the behind on rent, the midterms she’s failed, all of it.
“T. Losing your internship because it lost its funding is not on you,” Lucy informs her. “But, again, self-medicating with alcohol just upends the other parts of your life.”
“We also know last night was not a one-night occurrence,” Tim informs her.
Tamara plays with her food slowly. “That being said,” he adds. “Your next four Saturdays are booked.” Tamara’s eyes snap up to Tim’s, unsure what he means.
Lucy takes the lead back, “We signed you up to volunteer with the station’s kids of alcoholics group.”
Tamara doesn’t protest; she knew something bigger was coming, and honestly, it didn’t sound too awful.
“You’ll be checking in with one of us before each meeting, too,” Tim adds on. “I think Lucy’s excited you’ll be eating lunch with us.” He says that with a grin, hoping it will make Tamara smile again, even for a little.
Tamara nods. “I can do that.” She stuffs some fruit and bacon into her mouth, still trying to feed her hunger.
“One more thing,” Lucy says, eyeing Tim, who nods to give her a go-ahead. “Tim and I put money into your bank account. That should help with the missed rent and a few other things.”
A universal rift shifts in Tamara. She drops her fork, “wh-what? yo-you didn’t… I can pay you-,” she stammers, trying to get something out, but Tim cuts her off.
He waves his hand casually like it was not a big deal, “Don’t even think about it. Lucy and I are good monetarily.” Tim takes a breath, “Tam, I know I am the last person who should be talking about asking for help, but it’s what we’re here for. Okay?” Tim places a hand on Tamara’s arm and squeezes it to comfort her. “You never have to weather a storm by yourself.”
Relief washes over Tamara while tears prick her eyes and make an escape again. She leans over to Tim, who throws his arm around her shoulders and kisses the side of her head.
“Tam, look at me for a second,” Lucy calls from her side of the table. Tamara looks up and meets Lucy’s gaze. There’s an intense notion of sincerity in Lucy’s eyes. “You’ll always have us, even on the days when you push us away, or one of us is angry. Whatever it is. We’ll be there.”
“The best decision I ever made was stealing your car.” Tamara quips to Lucy through her tears. Lucy giggles, and Tim rolls his eyes fondly.
“So, what are we going to do about these failed midterms?” Lucy asks inquisitively.
Tamara whimpers a little, unsure if there’s anything she can do. She gives them a play-by-play of everything that has happened to her recently, but through her eyes and not Kate’s. The trio finishes the rest of the breakfast that Tim made, while helping Tamara brainstorm plans on getting things back on track, like, talking to her Professors about her mid-term screwups, the other roommate drama, and how Tamara is going to finish her intership credit, which, thanks to Tim, who suggested talking to James to see if there’s room for Tamara to create an internship-like program at the community center.
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Tamara plops on the couch next to Lucy, who is in her favorite spot - the one where both sides of the L-shaped couch meet, forming a little nook. Tamara snuggles up to Lucy’s side. Her head hits Lucy’s shoulder. Lucy reaches out and brushes the hair away that fell in front of Tamara’s face, “Want to stay for a bit? Dad can take you home later.” Lucy queries.
“Is that okay?” Tamara asks.
“Of course,” Tim replies, and he carries a box of donuts over.
“Randy’s!” Tamara exclaims as she grabs a donut from the box. “You both really outdid yourselves this morning.”
“Lucy was the one to grab these.”
Tim offers Lucy a donut, too, and she shakes her head no. Too full from breakfast. He places them down on the coffee table and grabs a blanket from the end of the couch. Tim lays the blanket over Lucy and Tamara. He kisses Lucy softly and sweetly on the lips, and then kisses Tamara on the top of her head.
“Bakeoff?” Tim asks, sitting down on the other side of the couch.
“oOoOoOo. Yes, please!” Tamara excitedly says, “Are you still behind?”
“We’ve only seen week one. We can marathon it.” Lucy replies.
Tamara goes into a deep dive of all the episodes that have aired so far without any spoilers, telling Lucy and Tim who her favorites are and whom she thinks they’ll be rooting for. Tim reaches for the remote and turns episode two on.
Tamara sits up sharply and blinks her right eye quickly. Almost like there’s something in it. She pinches the bridge of her nose. Electricity runs through the right side of her brain. Tim is up and off the couch before Tamara even mentions she has a headache. He comes back with 2 extra-strength Tylenol and a bottle of water before going back to his side of the couch. She mumbles a grateful thank you.
“Last night is finally catching up to me,” Tamara whines, suddenly not feeling too well. She throws back the two Tylenol and chugs the bottle of water. She curls up to Lucy’s side again.
“You’re so clingy.” Lucy jokes.
“I don’t feel wellllll,” Tamara whines.
“You’re hungover.” Tim chides, rolling his eyes.
“Same difference.” Tamara quips back.
Lucy lets out a chuckle from their banter, “Stretch out, babe. It’s okay.” Lucy tells Tamara. She grabs a throw pillow and putting it in her lap. Tamara grumbles a little bit and stretches out, her head goes to Lucy’s lap, and the edge of her feet finds Tim. Lucy hums softly and rubs her back in soothing circles that make it hard for Tamara to keep her eyes open. Tamara tries to fight the sleep, but loses viciously. She’s snoring before the bakers finish the first round.
Lucy looks at Tamara’s sleeping form. A whine escapes Tamara, waking her from slumber a bit, but Lucy easily lulls her back to sleep, telling her that she’s safe and loved. That this storm is only temporary and she and Tim will be there for her. Always.