Work Text:
Lucy Chen had never been the type of person who got sick. Occasionally she’d get a runny nose in the cooler months, or a mild bout of hay fever in the Spring, but one thing was for certain: she did not get sick.
And Tim knew that.
He had gotten to the station early to go over last night’s paper work, since he knew Smitty couldn’t be trusted to do it correctly.
He hadn’t noticed what time it was or how long he’d been sitting at his desk. Hadn’t even noticed when the station began to bustle with the life of day shift milling in.
What he did notice out the corner of his eye, was Lucy.
Instantly he knew something was wrong.
He watched as she headed sluggishly over to the briefing room for roll call, moving in a way that made it seem every step was exhausting.
He noticed the way her arms hung loosely by her sides.
The way her bun looked as if it could fall out without a moment’s notice, loose strands of hair clinging to the sweat on her neck.
What was most jarring though, was her eyes. Their usual sparkle he had to grown to love so much over the years, replaced by none other than a tiredness that weighed over her whole being.
She looked significantly less like her usual, optimistic self, and more like a pale, hollowed out shell of what once was.
She looked horrible. No, not horrible. Sick.
Ignoring every fibre in his body yelling at him to go and steal her from roll call and take her back to her apartment immediately, he sat and watched.
He watched the way she sat slouched in her chair next to Nolan, the way she could barely keep her head up as Grey spoke.
It was killing him inside, sitting and watching.
-
Lucy Chen did not get sick.
She knew that.
She did not get sick. She loves tequila. She missed Jackson.
It was as simple as that.
Which is why when she woke up 30 minutes later than usual, to the sound of Celina making breakfast in their kitchen and not her alarm, she knew something was wrong.
It hit her like a freight train when she finally got out of bed.
The warm sunlight filtering through the curtains, too bright.
The music coming from the kitchen, flowing through the crack in her door, too loud.
The smell of freshly cooked bacon, too nauseating.
Willing herself not to be sick right then and there, she padded towards the bathroom, hoping a cold shower would be exactly what she needed to shock some sense into herself.
She was wrong.
Shit.
At least it was Celina’s turn to drive them that morning.
-
The drive to the station was easy enough, Celina talked about anything that popped into her mind as she drove, and Lucy sat quietly in the passenger seat.
She had realised pretty quickly that Lucy wasn't feeling well. It was hard to miss. She knew that Lucy was not one to get sick. In fact, this was the first time she'd seen her friend in such a state, so naturally, she worried. Subtle glances to see if she was okay disguised as checking the mirrors and blind spots as she drove.
"You know, I had the craziest dream last night, I was at the station and then, all of a sudden I was back at the apartment, and then aliens came down from out of nowhere and completely destroyed my bedroom"
No answer.
"Lucy?"
"Hm?"
"Did you hear anything I just said?"
"Oh uh no, no I'm sorry Celina. You were saying?"
"Are you feeling alright? You barely touched your breakfast and you look like you're about to pass out"
"Oh yeah um I'm fine, I just didn't sleep well last night is all"
Celina saw right through her, but she didn't want to pry, so she left it at that.
"Alright, well, if you do need anything you know where to find me"
-
As soon as they pulled to a stop in the car port, Lucy jumped from the car, barely managing a quick goodbye to Celina before she made a beeline for the locker room.
She got changed into her uniform quickly enough, doing anything she could to aleviate the way her body ached. Leaving her duty belt a little lower on her hips, her hair pulled not nearly as tight as it should be.
Nothing seemed to be helping.
Somehow she had made it through roll call and the first half of her shift on patrol feeing mostly okay. Sure she felt terrible, but she could still do her job.
It wasn’t until she was sat in the break room did she finally come to realise just how fucked she was.
She felt weighed down, a heavy throbbing behind her eyes making it impossible to keep them open for longer than a few minutes at a time. Her whole body ached, even though she had had nothing but tame calls all morning. She was sweating and shivering, her jacket doing no good at all.
She needed a nap. It was completely utterly something she never thought she’d do on while on shift, but a few minutes wouldn’t hurt, right?
-
He was starving. Skipped breakfast in favour of work, so naturally by the time mid shift rolled around, Tim was headed straight to the break room.
“Hey Angela, you want a coffee or anything?”
“No I’m all good, thank you though”
God he needed a snack. And a coffee.
Rounding the corner at the end of the hallway, he noticed the blinds were shut in the break room.
That’s weird.
Unsure of what he’d find, he opened the door slowly, ready for anything, but was greeted with none other than Lucy sitting on the couch. He’d been so caught up in his work, he’d forgotten the way she looked earlier that morning, so he headed over to the kitchenette.
“Oh, hey Luce, how’s your shift been?”
Silence.
“Lucy?”
Still nothing.
He turned to face her, and his stomach dropped.
She was sat slumped back on the couch, limp and clammy. Her eyes screwed shut and her breathing restless.
Instantly he rushed over to the couch, dropping to his knees beside her and holding her head in his hands.
“Lucy! Lucy can you open your eyes for me, please?”
Her eyes didn’t budge as she melted into his touch.
A low moan escaped her throat, clearly in pain.
“Lucy please, I need you to tell me what’s wrong, or, or open your eyes for me, anything please baby”
He was terrified. He’d never seen her like this.
For a split second, he didn’t know what to do, his own fear consuming the rational part of his brain.
And then, as if on autopilot, his training takes over, quickly checking her vitals and laying her down fully on the couch.
Another small whimper left her lips, and it pained him that he couldn’t do more to help.
“Lucy?”
His voice was barely above a whisper, yet he hoped she was listening.
He felt utterly useless.
He was a cop, and a damn good one, yet here he was, not knowing how to take care of his own girlfriend.
After a moment, he pulled his phone from his pocket and hit the call button.
“Tim, why on earth are you calling me from inside the station? I swear if-“
“Angela please you- you need to come to the break room now, something’s wrong with Lucy”
Before he could even put his phone away again, Angela was already in the room, kneeling beside him, quietly assessing Lucy.
She moved as if she had done this a thousand times, two fingers on the inside of her wrist, the back of her hand on her forehead.
With two young kids she probably had done this a thousand times, Tim thought.
“She’s gonna be okay, but this is hardly the best place for her to be”
“Yeah, right, of course uh-“
“Breathe, Tim, she’ll be alright, but she needs you to be alright for her”
That got him thinking straight again.
Then, as if on cue, her brows furrowed a little, and he could almost see her coming back to him.
“Tim?”
She sounded like she’d been asleep for a hundred years, her voice low and laced with confusion.
“Hey Luce, hey there you are, God you- you really scared me there” He almost laughed as he spoke; never had he been so relieved to hear his own name.
“mm, sorry” she mumbled.
“No. There’ll be none of that. You’ve got nothing to be sorry for baby”
“C’mon, let’s get you out of here, shall we? We’ll go back to mine”
“Sounds good. Thank you, babe”