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It’s been six weeks since they came home, and Lucy still finds herself flinching at strangers that pass too quick in the street. She took a step back when someone tried to speak to her in the store the other day, her mind screaming that the key in their grip was a syringe, just for a moment.
She’s been working on it, but she’s still trying to pull the last few pieces of herself back together.
They spent three days in the captivity of Everett’s crew. It felt like longer. There were no windows, no sense of the passage of time, nothing but pain and confusion and fear. She swears she can still hear the echo of Tim’s screams, and she knows he hears hers, his too-wide eyes flitting in her direction when a distant car hits the brakes too hard.
They both still have nightmares. Sure, they’re less frequent than they were—they’re actually getting some sleep, these days—, but once every few nights, one of them will startle awake, seeking comfort in the thin strip of moonlight shining over their bed. Sometimes one of them doesn’t make it out of their subconscious, sometimes neither of them do, but every single time they wake up and hold each other, reassured by the reminder that they’re both right there. They survived.
They made it home.
They’re supposed to be enjoying the bliss of being engaged, celebrating the concept of forever. But she barely got time to process the new weight on her finger before feeling the sharp sting in her neck.
And now, Lucy looks at her ring, and…
It’s not that she doesn’t love it. She does, she really does. It’s beautiful, and she’s grateful to be engaged to someone she loves so much, someone who knows her so well. Even before she knew what was about to happen, she’d been trying to commit that perfect moment to memory, and she’d said as much to Tim.
But now, the memory is clouded and blurred, viewed through a haze of sedatives. The sunset is marred with black spots, the crash of waves drowned out by the ringing in her ears and the distorted talk of payback, as one of the happiest moments of their lives grinds to a halt.
She still remembers Tim’s speech word-for-word, remembers hanging onto his every syllable as he voiced something he’d never expressed with that much honesty. But she also remembers the minutes after, as he’d taken her hand before the bags went over their heads, where she’d wondered if the rest of our lives was referring to a much shorter timeframe than either of them had planned.
So when Lucy sees her ring, she thinks of their engagement, and she can’t just see their joy and the promise of forever glinting in the stone. No, she sees everything that came after, too.
Waking up in a dark room. The sting of electricity, the metallic tang of blood, the dissociation as her mind tried to protect her from her own pain. Tim’s pained shouts as they did God-knows-what to him on the other side of the wall. They’ve never talked about the details—they don’t need to. They heard more than enough to fuel a lifetime of nightmares, and have seen enough of each other’s scars and bruises to paint the rest of the picture.
In captivity, they’d talked through the dividing wall when everything fell quiet, when their captors’ footsteps retreated for a while. Tim had whispered hoarse, slurred apologies that weren’t his to make, and Lucy had asked him if people were actually coming for them, in moments when the darkness felt like it might last forever. Their friends came eventually, of course they did, but it’s easy to lose hope when you can’t make sense of the hours ticking by, every moment stained with pain.
Tomorrow’s their first day back at work, and Lucy feels more than a little sick at the thought.
This is far from either of their first times returning to work after a trauma, but… this feels different from the others. They’re the Watch Commander and Patrol Supervisor, now—two of the most important people in the station. All eyes are going to be on them, watching them, wondering if they’re fit enough to do the job, even though the psychological and physical evaluations have cleared them for duty.
Grey stepped back in as Watch Commander while they were out, and Tim’s going to be assisting him for the first week or two. Even if he hasn’t voiced it outright, Lucy knows he’s not happy about it—he’s never quite managed to shake the insecurity of being second-guessed the moment he stepped into the role, and this isn’t helping. It’s not as bad for her; Reeves took over as Patrol Supervisor, and after one hand-over meeting before roll call, she’ll be good to go, in theory.
It doesn’t mean she’s not crawling out of her skin, though, even if this evening is helping soothe her nerves a little.
Stepping out of the shower, Lucy changes into her favourite silk pyjamas, just so she has a fighting chance at sleep that isn’t plagued with anxiety. The material is soft on the still-fading spiderweb scars that exude phantom pain when she moves wrong.
While she’s drying her hair, Tim pokes his head in through the bedroom door.
“Feel better?” he asks. She knows he clocked her nerves hours ago.
She nods, because she does feel a little better, and he smiles, pushing the door open the rest of the way as he leans against the frame. It’d be hard to miss his small wince when he puts his weight on his still-healing shoulder, though. Lucy gives him a sympathetic smile, trying to ignore the distant echo that rings through her skull—the shout he’d let out as she’d heard the bone crack.
“Good,” he says, shifting his weight. “Dinner’s ready when you are.”
The corners of his eyes are still slightly pinched, though, and Lucy narrows her eyes at him.
“Did you take your pain meds today?” she asks.
He waves a hand, like he can swat away her concern. “Not yet. I’ll take them in a bit, it’s fine.”
“Tim.”
“Lucy—”
But she’s already standing, rounding the bed to grab the orange bottle from his nightstand. She tosses it his way in a perfect arc, and he catches it effortlessly.
His smile is light with gratitude as he twists the cap without further argument. “Thanks.”
It’s selfish, but she hates being reminded of his pain. She hates every last reminder of how much they’d suffered in the wake of what was supposed to be their perfect moment.
And she finds remnants of it fucking everywhere.
The orange bottle on Tim’s nightstand, mirroring the placement of the journal she keeps on hers—the one she scrawls in on nights she’s convinced the memories might shake her apart. It’s right next to the jewellery tray where she keeps her ring at night, the ring that should be the centrepiece of her joy. Instead of coming home to beautiful bouquets with tiny notecards and heartfelt congratulations on your engagement! messages, they’d returned to a freezer filled with home-cooked meals—endlessly appreciated, but a constant reminder of how broken they’d been.
Lucy keeps finding herself returning to the thought of everything that should’ve been. There’s just this inexplicable sense of grief that’s taken root in her chest, like she’s mourning the perfect life they’d been living before… before all this.
After he swallows the pill dry, Tim crosses the room to put the bottle back, eyes narrowing as his gaze lingers on her.
“You okay?” he asks, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder.
She nods, even if it’s not the most convincing. “I’m fine.”
He’s definitely about to push back on her assurance when her stomach growls, and they both laugh despite the weight in the air.
“Dinner?” Tim asks, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her hair. She leans into his hold without even having to think about it.
“Sounds good.”
When Lucy trails after Tim into the main room, she finds he’s dimmed the overhead lights, and the dining table is bathed in candlelight. Two plates of stuffed peppers—her favourite comfort meal—are set out, along with two glasses of white wine that catch the flickering light. It’s picturesque, and perfect.
“Tim, this is beautiful.”
He pulls her chair back with a smile, and she thanks him as she takes her seat.
“It smells so good,” she says, reaching over to take his hand as he sits adjacent to her. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” His smile softens as he squeezes her hand. “Look, I know you’re worried about tomorrow—”
She huffs, the corner of her mouth lifting with a rueful smile.
“—but it’s going to be fine, okay? We’re going to get through this.”
At that, she nods, even as she blows out a sigh. “We’re… we’re ready, right?”
His brows draw together slightly, concern colouring his features. “You know, it’s okay if you’re not, Luce. You don’t have to—”
She shakes her head, cutting him off. “No, no, I—I know, I just… the whole station is going to be looking to us. Looking at us. It just feels like there’s more pressure now, more at stake if we can’t handle it.”
She’s saying we, but she doesn’t mean we, not really.
Holding her hand tighter, Tim nods. “I know. That’s why it’s important to just focus on doing what we can, and make sure we’re being honest with ourselves about what we can’t. I mean, hell, it’s not like I’m thrilled about being on desk duty for another three weeks; I’m just being realistic about what my shoulder can handle right now.”
Lucy can’t help but grasp at the opportunity for some levity. “Does you being on desk duty mean I get to use the Super Shop?”
“God, no.”
Her mouth falls agape in mock-offense as Tim grins. “Wow. You didn’t even hesitate.”
Tim reaches for his glass with a light chuckle. “My point is, there’s no use in dwelling on any of the what-ifs right now. They’ve never helped anyone. For now, let’s just enjoy tonight.”
Lucy nods, because he’s right. She can do that, she thinks.
Reaching for her own glass, she raises it towards his. “Tomorrow is… tomorrow’s problem?”
He nods, clinking their glasses together. “Exactly.”
They settle in to eat, and the food is delicious, and comforting, and just what Lucy needed. The tension in her shoulders loosens as they make easy conversation, legs knocking together beneath the table like always.
Inside, she marvels at the fact that Tim always seems to know the right thing to do for her—she swears he knows what she needs before she does, sometimes. She couldn’t imagine spending the rest of her life with anyone else.
When they’re done, he stands to clear the plates away, but before he can, she puts a hand on his arm and pulls him in for a kiss.
“Thank you,” she repeats. “That was perfect.”
He presses another kiss to her lips, and one more to her forehead, before moving behind her and kneading her shoulders gently. It helps ease some of the tension she’s been carrying all day.
“You need anything?” Tim asks.
Lucy blows out a sigh, a wave of exhaustion washing over her. “Part of me really just wants to get into bed and cuddle for a while.”
Tim runs one of his thumbs back and forth across her shoulder, and she can hear the gentle smile in his voice. “We can do that,” he says. “Why don’t you go get your skincare done, and I’ll make your tea and come join you?”
Overwhelmed with gratitude for the man who’s going to be by her side forever, Lucy presses a kiss to his hand still resting on her shoulder. “That sounds perfect.”
She heads into the bathroom for her skincare routine, and hears the click of the kettle as Tim prepares her tea. More of her tension eases at the sound.
Even if the memory of their engagement is stained, it doesn’t change the fact that she gets to spend forever with Tim—someone who knows her like no one else does. Even if she now knows what it sounds like when his bones break, or the slurred rasp his voice takes on when he hasn’t slept in days, she also knows how safe she feels when he holds her. She knows the way the corner of his mouth twitches when he’s trying not to laugh, or how his eyes sparkle when he smiles.
She knows whatever they’ve faced, however dark it’s gotten at times, they’ve survived it all. They’ve always come out the other side, together, and they have a lifetime of beautiful memories stretching out in front of them. The thought is comforting enough that Lucy leaves the bathroom with a smile pulling at her lips.
Tim has just set down her mug on her nightstand when she enters the bedroom, and she steps past him to grab it.
“Thank you,” she says, picking it up and taking a sip.
From behind her, Tim laughs, his voice soft. “Careful, it’s hot.”
She laughs and sets it back down before turning to face him. “I know it’s—”
Her heart stops.
Tim is down on one knee, a familiar ring held up between his thumb and forefinger.
She twists to take a glance at the jewellery tray on her nightstand and, sure enough, her ring is missing. He must’ve picked it up while she was doing her skincare.
Her first instinct is to laugh, before she furrows her brows.
“What are you—?”
Tim smiles, eyes already shining. “I’m trying again.”
Her heart clenches, on the verge of cracking. “Tim,” she breathes. “My answer didn’t change just because—”
“I know, I know.” His voice falters for a second, and he shakes his head. “I just… I wanted us to have a version of this that’s completely safe. A memory that we want to remember.”
Her eyes well up, because of course he’d want that. Of course he’d know her like that.
“And anyway, it kind of tracks,” he shrugs with a smile. “I asked you out twice, we had two first dates, I asked you to move in twice. Two proposals just feels right. It’s kind of our thing, at this point.”
She can’t help her watery laugh. He’s not wrong, and watching him shape something sentimental out of what’s happened just reinforces her complete certainty that this is the man she wants to marry. And there’s something about seeing the ring in his shaking hands that makes the world right itself again.
“Okay,” she chuckles, wiping at her eyes. “So… is there something you want to ask me?”
He nods. “Yeah, there is.”
He clears his throat, draws in a slow breath, just like the first time, just like he always does when something matters this much.
“I know I gave the big speech the first time around, but I… I don’t think I could ever run out of ways to tell you what you mean to me,” he starts. “We’ve been surviving together since we met. There has been no end to the obstacles, or the tests, or the setbacks, and the last few weeks have been a painful reminder of that.”
She just nods, her chest constricting with the emotions threatening to overwhelm her.
“We’ve—we’ve been through hell, Lucy, and yet your spirit and your kindness and your strength have never wavered, not even once. In the face of everything you’ve been dealt, you’ve always been you, and I…”
For a moment, it’s like Tim is rendered speechless, words seeming to fail him against the magnitude of what he’s feeling. He loses his fight with his tears, one of them spilling over and slipping down his cheek, but he doesn’t move to swipe it away. He just shakes his head, and Lucy resists the urge to brush the droplet away with her thumb.
“I… I have never stopped admiring you, Lucy,” he eventually continues, his voice raw. “I’ve never stopped falling for you, I’m never going to stop loving you. We’ve been living the vows we’ll speak at the altar since we met, since before we knew where any of this was going to take us. Um, and… I know you’ve already given me your answer, but I hope you’ll allow me the honour of asking again.”
This time, when the moment blurs, it’s with her tears, rivulets of salt streaming down her face as she nods.
Tim’s hands shake, but his grip on the ring remains steady as he swallows.
Another slow breath in.
“Lucy Chen,” he says. “Will you marry me?”
She’s already nodding before the question’s all the way out, the yes, yes, yes tumbling from her lips just like the first time, and they clash together in a kiss and a clumsy tangle of limbs on their bedroom floor.
And when he slides the ring on her finger, it catches the low light of the moon streaming in through the windows, and that same euphoria sparks in her chest anew.
This time, though, she gets to feel it flood her veins. She gets to relish it. She gets to kiss him, again and again and again and again, tasting the salt on his lips from his tears. She admires the ring where her hand presses against his chest and, for the first time in weeks, she doesn’t see any of their pain caught in the fractals of light. She just sees this moment, and their future, and all the joy and safety and love that it holds.
It’s just her and Tim in their bedroom, the rest of the world falling quiet in the most beautiful way as they start their forever all over again.