Chapter Text
ONE
Lucy's eyelids fluttered open.
For a long moment, she couldn't remember how to move.
Darkness surrounded her - not the soft darkness of a closed bedroom, but something absolute. Suffocating.
As consciousness slowly returned, so did the pain.
A sharp throb pulsed behind her right temple, radiating across her skull until nausea rolled through her stomach. Her throat felt like sandpaper. Every swallow burned.
What...
She tried to lift a hand to her head. It didn't move. A frown creased her brow. She tried again. Nothing. Her pulse quickened. She twisted her wrists instinctively and immediately felt the unforgiving bite of plastic cutting into her skin.
Zip ties. Tight. Too tight. Her hands were bound behind her back.
The cold beneath her slowly registered. Concrete. The entire left side of her body had gone numb where she'd been lying against it. Her bare feet rested on the icy floor, and a draft brushed across the strip of exposed skin where her sweater had ridden up over her waist.
One leg was tucked beneath her. The other lay awkwardly stretched behind her.
Silence pressed in from every direction. The only sound was her own heartbeat pounding inside her ears. Then the memories came.
The station.
The ship.
Everett.
The beach.
The sunrise.
The ring.
Tim.
Her breath caught.
He proposed.
Diamonds glinting in the morning sun. His smile. His voice trembling in a way she'd never heard before.
Then-
Nothing. Her stomach lurched.
Where am I? Where's Tim?
Panic crashed into her before she could stop it. Her breathing became shallow, frantic. Too fast. She couldn't get enough air. Her chest tightened painfully.
No...not again
The barrel.
Caleb.
Sand.
Darkness. She squeezed her eyes shut.
No... no...
The memories swallowed her whole.
"Lucy."
A voice was cutting through the darkness.
"Lucy."
She couldn't hear it. Not at first. Her breathing came in short, desperate gasps.
"I'm gonna die..."
The words escaped as little more than a whisper.
"Lucy."
Closer now. Firm.
"Hey. Listen to me."
She couldn't. The panic was too loud.
"Lucy."
His voice.
"...Tim?"
"I'm here."
Her lungs burned.
"I—I can't..."
"I know." His voice remained calm. Steady.
"You can hear me?"
A tiny nod. Wait he can't see me.
"Yeah."
"Good."
A pause.
"Nothing else matters right now. Just my voice."
Lucy squeezed her eyes shut.
"Breathe with me."
She tried.
Failed.
"Again."
He drew in a slow breath through his nose, loud enough for her to hear.
"In..." Then exhaled slowly.
"...and out."
Again.
Again.
Again.
Each breath gave her something to follow. Something solid.
The roaring in her ears began to fade. The vice around her chest loosened. Eventually her breathing matched his. The panic receded just enough for exhaustion to rush in behind it. A sob escaped her before she could stop it.
Then another.
Twenty feet away, Tim closed his eyes. The sound shattered him. He couldn't reach her. Couldn't hold her. Couldn't even wipe away her tears.
"I'm here," he said quietly. His own voice threatened to break. "I'm right here, baby."
Lucy cried harder.
...
Tim had regained consciousness almost forty minutes earlier. He'd awakened sitting upright against a steel support column, wrists bound behind it with industrial zip ties.
The room was windowless. Cold. Silent. By the time his eyes had adjusted, he'd just managed to make out Lucy's outline lying motionless across the room.
She hadn't answered when he'd called her name. Not once. For one terrifying moment he'd believed she was dead. Then he'd forced himself to think like a cop.
If they wanted him alive...there was a reason. And if there was a reason to keep him alive, maybe there was one for Lucy too. He clung to that thought. It was all he had.
While he waited, his mind replayed the last moments before everything went black.
The sunrise. The ocean. Lucy laughing. Her face when he'd opened the ring box.
"Lucy Chen...will you marry me?"
The happiest moment of his life. Gone in seconds. She'd been in his arms. And he'd failed to protect her. Never again. He didn't know how. He didn't know when. But he was getting her out.
"Tim?"
Her voice was fragile now. Barely above a whisper.
"I'm here." A shaky breath.
"Is it Everett?"
"I don't know."
"Why would he do this?"
No answer came. She laughed bitterly through fresh tears. "There's always something."
Silence.
"Every time we finally get something good..." Her voice cracked. "I don't think I can do this anymore."
"You can."
"I can't."
"You can." His tone never changed.
"They'll never find us.
Oh my God..." Lucy let out a hollow laugh, "it's our day off."
Another silence.
"No one's expecting us."
"They are."
"How?"
"Lopez."
"What?"
"I lied earlier."
"What are you talking about?"
"It wasn't the mailman who came to the house."
Despite everything, Lucy frowned.
"...What?"
"It was Angela." He almost smiled despite himself.
"I lost the ring."
"You what?"
"I know, I'll explain later."
A tiny, humourless laugh escaped Lucy.
"But I lost it."
"Is that why you hit your head off the steering wheel?"
"Maybe....she found it and brought it back."
Lucy shook her head in disbelief.
"You are unbelievable."
"I've heard that before."
For the first time since waking, the crushing fear eased if only for a second.
Then reality settled back over them.
"She knows I was proposing," Tim said. "If she doesn't hear from us..."
"She'll know."
"I know she will."
Lucy swallowed. "How long have we been here?"
"I don't know. You were unconscious when I woke up. Maybe thirty or forty minutes?"
"They drugged us." She touched her head against the concrete.
"My head..."
"Did they hit you?"
"I don't know, but my temple hurts."
"Nausea?"
"...Yeah."
"You probably have a concussion."
She managed a weak sigh. "You okay?"
"I'm fine."
It was such a Tim answer that Lucy almost smiled. A sound echoed through the room.
CLANG.
Metal bolts. Heavy. One after another. Tim's entire body tensed. The steel door groaned open. Light spilled into the darkness like a knife, forcing both of them to squint after so long without it.
Tim saw Lucy properly for the first time.
She lay curled on her side only a few feet from the doorway. Hands bound behind her back.
Her sweater had ridden halfway up her torso, exposing pale skin chilled by the concrete beneath her. Strands of hair hid most of her face, tangled from being dragged across the floor. She hates her hair in her face, but she can't reach it.
She was trembling. Two men entered. Neither spoke. They each grabbed one of her arms and hauled her roughly to her feet.
Lucy cried out as they dragged her across the floor before dumping her onto a metal chair positioned directly opposite Tim.
"Easy!" Tim barked. "Hands off her."
One of the men ignored him. The other stepped closer to Lucy, taking hold of her chin between his fingers and forcing her head upright.
With deliberate slowness, he brushed her hair back from her face. He studied her as though inspecting a prototype before the final product. "Pretty."
Tim's jaw clenched. The man smiled. "You two had quite the morning." His voice was smooth. Almost conversational. "Beautiful proposal."
He glanced back at Tim. "Shame we had to interrupt."
Tim stared at him.
"If Everett makes a promise..." The man smiled wider
"...he always keeps it. And he made that clear."
Something metallic flashed in his hand.
A knife.
He pressed the flat of the blade against Lucy's cheek before slowly tracing it down the side of her neck.
Lucy froze. Tim didn't.
"If you touch her-"
The chair suddenly disappeared beneath her. The man kicked it with explosive force. Lucy hit the concrete hard, the crack of her head against the floor echoing through the room.
"Lucy!"
Tim threw his weight against the restraints with everything he had. Plastic bit deeper into his wrists. Blood ran warm down his hands.
"You son of a bitch!"
The second man appeared with a bucket. Without a word, he emptied it over Lucy.
Freezing liquid crashed over her body. She gasped violently. Within seconds, both men were gone. The heavy door slammed shut. Darkness swallowed the room once again.
"Lucy?" Tim's voice cracked. "...Talk to me."
A long pause. Then-
"I'm okay." Her teeth chattered so hard she could barely form the words. "I think... it's just water."
Relief hit him so hard it almost made him dizzy. Then he remembered the sound of her head striking the floor.
"Baby your head..."
"It's...I'm okay."
She wasn't. Warm blood trickled from her hairline, weaving down the side of her face. The room spun violently as she struggled onto her knees. She swallowed against another wave of nausea.
"Can you get to me?" Tim asked quietly. "I can't come to you, I'm tied to this."
Lucy nodded to herself. "I'm trying."
Getting to her feet with her hands bound proved almost impossible. Twice she fell. The third time, she managed to stand.
"That's it," Tim encouraged. "Just follow my voice."
One slow step. Then another. She stumbled blindly through the darkness until her shin struck something solid. His shoe.
The last of her strength gave out and she collapsed beside him. Without thinking, she leaned against him, burying her face against the side of his neck.
Tim rested his forehead against her hair. He couldn't hold her. Couldn't even touch her, not really. So he kissed the top of her head instead.
"I love you," he whispered. "So much."
Lucy closed her eyes. "I love you too."
Her body shook violently from the cold.
"Stay close."
"I will."
They sat together in the darkness, shoulder against shoulder.
For now, it was enough.
...
Tim wasn't sure how long they'd been asleep. Minutes. Hours. Time had ceased to mean anything. A metallic crash jolted them both awake.
CLANG.
The bolts. Again. Lucy's body stiffened against his.
"No..." she whispered.
The door burst open. Light flooded the room.
"Grab her."
Two men crossed the room with purpose. Lucy tried to scramble backwards, but there was nowhere to go.
"No-"
One of them grabbed the back of her sweater.
"Get up."
"Get your hands off me!"
She fought.
The first man barely reacted. He hauled her upright as though she weighed nothing.
"Tim!"
"I'm here."
He lunged instinctively, the restraints snapping him backwards against the steel pole.
"She has nothing to do with this!"
Another man shoved Lucy toward the doorway. She stumbled.
"Where are you taking her?" Tim shouted.
No answer. The door slammed shut. Darkness swallowed him whole. Silence.
Then a scream. Tim froze. It wasn't loud. It wasn't prolonged. But it was Lucy.
Every muscle in his body locked. Another scream.
"Tim!"
His heart slammed against his ribs.
"LUCY!"
"I can't—"Her voice broke.
"I'll get you out!"
He pulled against the restraints until blood ran freely from his wrists.
"I promise, I'll get you out!"
Her cries echoed somewhere beyond the walls. Then another voice barked an order.
A crash. Silence. Tim listened. Nothing. Then...one final scream.
His name. After that, only muffled sobs. The first day, Lucy screamed.
The second day, she fought. Tim could hear it in her voice. Every curse. Every threat. Every desperate attempt to resist. He counted each one like proof she was still alive.
On the third day, the building became quieter. Sometimes he heard footsteps. Doors opening. Doors closing. Sometimes he heard Lucy. Sometimes he only imagined he had.
The silence became unbearable. He stopped sleeping. Every creak in the hallway made him look toward the door. Every footstep made him hope - and dread - that it was her.
Food appeared twice a day. Water. Bread. Something resembling stew. He ignored the food at first. The water he couldn't refuse. He needed to stay alive.
Because if an opportunity came - even one - he intended to take it. He started to realise that not eating would do more harm than good if he planned on getting them out of there. Weakness was a risk he couldn't afford to take. He had to keep his strength up in some way. Still, he only ate the small, stale roll of bread.
His wrists had long since split open beneath the restraints. Every attempt to free himself tore the wounds wider. Dried blood stained the floor beneath him. Still he pulled.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Until exhaustion forced him to stop. Then he would start again.
...
On what Tim guessed was the fourth day, he didn't hear Lucy at all. No footsteps. No voices. No crying. Nothing. Nothing was worse. So much worse. His imagination filled the silence with endless possibilities. None of them good.
He closed his eyes. For the first time in years, Tim Bradford prayed. He. Prayed. To whoever and whatever would listen.
The gunfire shattered the silence. Rapid. Close. Automatic weapons answered by pistols.
Police?
Tim's head snapped toward the door. More shots. Someone shouting.
"LAPD! ON THE GROUND, DO IT NOW!"
Another voice.
"Clear!"
"Search every room!"
Tim's pulse exploded.
The lock crashed open. The steel door flew inward. Officers flooded the room with rifles raised.
"Clear! We got him!"
A pair of officers rushed toward him with trauma kits.
The restraints fell away. Tim barely noticed.
"Lucy." His voice came out hoarse. "Where is she?"
No one answered immediately. His heart dropped, just as a familiar face appeared.
Lopez.
Angela Lopez stepped through the doorway. Her face said everything. Tim stared at her.
"Do you have her?"
Angela nodded. "We've got her."
The breath he'd been holding escaped all at once.
"Thank God. Is she okay?" He struggled to stand. "My legs..."
Two officers caught him before he hit the floor.
"I need to see her."
"You will." Angela stepped closer. "But the paramedics are taking her first."
"Is she conscious?"
Angela hesitated.
"...She was."
Was.
Tim caught it instantly.
"What happened to her?"
"They're working on her."
His stomach twisted. "Working on her?"
"They're taking her straight to Shaw."
"Tell me she's awake now?"
The words sounded hollow even to him. Angela looked away for half a second.
Too long.
Tim knew.
"...Angela."
She met his eyes again.
"Tim..."
He could barely breathe.
"...How bad?"
Angela took a slow breath.
"They think she's got internal injuries."
His face drained of colour. "What..."
His voice failed.
"What did they do to her?"
Angela didn't answer. Not because she didn't want to. Because she couldn't. They didn't know yet.
Tim looked past her toward the corridor. Stretchers. Paramedics. Officers moving in every direction. Somewhere out there...Lucy was alive.
That was enough.
It had to be.
He took one unsteady step.
Then another.
"I'm not leaving until they take her."
Angela nodded. "I know."