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“It’s a girl.”
The hearty cry of a newborn fills the apartment, the reassuring sign of a successful delivery. Lucy smiles, releasing a shudder of relief as she places the infant in the crying mother’s arms.
“Good job, boot.” She hears from across the room. Remembering where she is and what’s going on, Lucy stands to join her training officer, who’s watching the livestream of her body cam on her city-issued phone with increasing apprehension.
“What’s wrong?” A worried Tim is never a good sign. He shakes his head, walking closer to the door.
“Something’s not right.”
As if on cue, a crash echoes from the next room. One of Vance’s men appears in the doorway to the kitchen, directly in Lucy’s line of attack.
Her heartbeat pounds in her ears. She distantly hears Tim’s yell to “Look out!”.
She fumbles for her weapon, but before she can disable the safety, the man lifts his gun and fires.
Time seems to slow.
Lucy doesn’t feel the bullet’s impact as she is thrown backwards, her own gun flying out of her hand as she hits the ground, the force of the collision leaving her staring at the ceiling as it spins, unable to move.
She sees a bright flash of light before everything goes black.
—
She’s not sure how long it's been, but the next thing she hears is the muffled sound of a wailing baby.
Her head throbs, but she forces herself to stay awake.
Lucy’s senses slowly return, one at a time. Cesiah’s cries for help, grunts and the sound of fists against flesh, the sharp pain in her chest, the smell of gunpowder.
No taste of blood. That’s good.
When she’s finally able to move, she scrambles to her knees first, hands reaching into her vest for her trauma plate. She pulls it out and inspects it, an intact bullet lodged right in the center, directly over her sternum.
Thank god for the ‘Bradford special’.
She finally turns her attention to the chaos around her and sees Tim in a chokehold, fighting off two large men at once. Then she sees Vance towering over a helpless Cesiah as he attempts to pry her baby from her.
She locates her weapon and finally stands, aiming at the drug dealer.
“Hey!” Vance’s head shoots up and looks down the barrel of her gun before he scrambles back into the kitchen for cover.
Lucy turns to the scuffle on the other side of the room, seeing Tim’s struggle. She runs over and kicks in the knee of the one behind him, and he stumbles long enough for Tim to free himself and get the upper hand on her shooter.
Lucy tackles the other guy to the ground and gets on top of him, throwing a right hook to his cheekbone. He retaliates and grabs hold of her legs, but she pepper sprays him.
Once they both manage to cuff their attackers, Lucy doubles over, the rush of adrenaline fading and the stabbing pain returning in full force.
She coughs, not sure if she’s about to throw up or pass out again.
—
Tim’s busy catching his breath before he hears the choked sound coming from his boot behind him.
He whips around to see her bent in half, one hand white-knucking her thigh as the other grabs at her chest. She’s shaking violently, and he rushes over, ready to catch her if she collapses.
“Hey… hey Chen, are you with me?” He checks in, an undertone of panic in his voice.
She nods, unable to speak. He steps behind her and grabs both of her shoulders, steadying her.
“Are you gonna be sick?”
“Y….y-yeah.” She breaks free, and he’s on her heels as she stumbles to the kitchen, grabbing the laminate as she empties the contents of her breakfast into the sink. He leans on the counter beside her, hand on her upper back as she catches her breath.
Tim reaches for his radio, lifting it to his chin.
“This is 7-Adam-19, is the rest of the building clear?” He hears static for a moment as a response comes in.
“7-Adam-19, this is 7-Lincoln-200, the building is clear, we are Code 4 here.”
“Come on, Chen.” He addresses his boot as she straightens up, color returning to her face. “Let’s go get you checked out.”
—
Lucy’s sitting in the back of an ambulance, legs hanging over the edge as the paramedics check her over.
“I’m not seeing any signs of a concussion, so that’s good,” the young woman says, “and your trauma plate's intact. The bullet didn’t break the skin, so I’m giving you the all-clear.” She steps back to catch Lucy’s eye.
“Just make sure you take it easy the rest of the day, and if anything comes up, tell somebody and get to the hospital. Head injuries aren’t something to be played with, okay?”
She nods before hopping out of the ambulance. After some water and a few minutes to catch her bearings, she’s feeling worlds better.
She saunters over to Tim, who’s standing on the side, talking to Grey. She waits for the senior officer to walk off before approaching her T.O..
“Hey, uh… paramedics gave me the all-clear. Just some bruising, nothing major. So I'm good to go.”
He squints, giving her a once-over, seemingly not trusting of that assessment, but nods anyway.
“Good. Let’s head back to the shop, then. We’re station-bound for the rest of the day.”
She heads off with Tim right behind her, and she can feel his eyes on her, watching her every move.
—
It’s past end-of-shift, and Tim’s standing outside the door to the women’s locker room.
He’s not sure what’s compelling him to do this, but he doesn’t want to leave until he’s checked on Chen for himself.
She’s only had three months on the job, and after the day she’s had, he feels an obligation to make sure she’s okay to go home.
He tells himself it’s just his responsibility as her training officer.
He waits until he’s 95% certain that everyone else has come out already, and walks in.
“Chen, are you decent?” He waits by the now-closed door.
“Yeah, I’m over here!” She confirms, and he takes that as permission to move further, to where he knows her locker is.
He rounds the corner and leans against one of the last lockers in the row, finding her standing by her own, folding her blues and stuffing them in her bag.
“You’re gonna have to put in for a new shirt, boot. No point in folding it all neat like that.”
She turns her head to look at him.
“What are you doing in here?” She asks, confounded. “Someone’s gonna yell at you.”
“Can I see it?”
“See what?” Her face twists with confusion.
“Your bruise, Chen. I wanna check it, make sure the EMTs did their job right.”
She looks away, a blush creeping down her neck. “Umm… it’s kinda…” She brings her finger up to circle her chest.
“...Don’t make it weird, Chen. Let me see.” He urges.
—
The earnestness and complete lack of humor in his face is what has her agreeing.
She nods, reaching down to the hem of her top, pulling it over her head.
She silently thanks Lucy-from-this-morning for not choosing a sheer bra today.
“Sit, so I can get a better look.” He instructs.
She does, and he follows. They end up mirroring each other, legs on either side of the bench.
The position, combined with her current state of undress, has her feeling very exposed, and she tries to reign in her flush.
He reaches out tentatively, fingers gently brushing over the purple welt. He’s precise, completely clinical in his movements, and careful to avoid any unnecessary contact.
It only makes her more aware of it.
His thumb sweeps over the place of impact, and–
Ow.
She sucks in a sharp breath.
“Sorry.” He winces.
“It’s okay.”
“Hurts bad, doesn’t it?” He looks up at her.
“Like a bitch.” She replies, and they both chuckle. He returns to his work.
“It’s worse without the plate, trust me.”
She grimaces, remembering her first shift, when she had to drag him from the line of fire and hold pressure on his wound so he wouldn’t bleed out.
Maybe it's the vulnerability of the moment, but she asks before she can stop herself.
“How’s Isabel?”
He stiffens, hands slowing for a minute, but he replies-
“The surgery went well, she made it through the night.” He gulps. “The doctors are hopeful.” His voice is steady, but she can hear the emotion in it.
“That’s good.” She replies. She hopes everything will be okay, for his sake.
“Mm.”
—
Satisfied with his assessment, Tim retracts his fingers.
“Alright,” He says, standing. “It’s bruising like it should, just keep an eye on it.”
Lucy exhales quietly as she rushes to put her shirt back on. He turns back to look at her and they stand there for a moment before he breaks the silence.
“Go home, get some rest.” He instructs.
“Yes, sir.”
A pause.
“I’m not going easy on you tomorrow.” He smirks.
She returns it, rolling her eyes. “There it is.”
That almost gets her another smile.
Almost.
With that, he turns and leaves.
He only makes it four steps out the door before running into Angela. He tries to walk past her, but she puts her hand up on his chest, stopping him in his tracks.
“Wanna tell me what you were doing in there?” She smirks, and he glares back at her.
“Checking on Chen.” He replies, clipped. “She took one in the chest today.”
“She okay?” Angela asks, concerned.
He normally isn’t so lucky, but it seems with everything that’s happened the last couple of days, Angela’s sparing him her usual teasing. He appreciates it. She really does know him well.
He nods. “Yeah, the plate caught it.”
“Thank god for the ‘Bradford special’.” She says seriously.
Thank god, indeed.
—