Work Text:
The last two weeks have been exhausting, terrifying, life altering. Kidnapped just moments after proposing to the love of his life, drugged and then separated. Forced to listen to each other's cries of pain over and over again.
Tim and Lucy had finally been rescued by their friends; beaten, bruised and dehydrated. But safe at last.
She has a cut on her forehead that worries him, and he has shoulder pain from being strung up that worries her.
Being held together, but still separated by cinder block walls and a bolted door, has done a number on them. The physical pain he was put through was nothing compared to the knowledge and sounds of their psychopathic tormentor using any one of those rusty and bloody torture devices on her.
He’s sure Lucy feels the same.
But they’re safe now.
After their rescue, they’d been taken to the local hospital for a quick work up, just to make sure they’re healthy enough to handle the flight back to Los Angeles. Under different circumstances, they’d probably have allowed for more proper care knowing how much damage was done to their bodies but they’re far too eager to get back stateside. Any longer in a place that isn’t home was only adding to their torture.
Two extremely hot and long showers, and changes of clothes later, they were ushered into their escort van and driven to the tarmac.
Climbing up the stairs of Aaron’s private jet, a steady hand at Lucy’s back as Tim lets her go up first. Both because he’s a gentleman and because he won’t be able to let her out of his sight anytime soon.
Angela, Nyla and Aaron follow close behind, making phone calls back to LA with their ETA and further plans.
Everett and their kidnappers on a separate plane back, surrounded by every three letter agency Tim has ever come across — and Nolan as the LAPD Liaison. The thought that Everett could escape again doesn’t evade him, but for now he’s trying to focus on the fact that he and Lucy are safe and going home.
She settles onto the small couch with a soft groan from the ache in her muscles. Tim sits right beside her with his hand on her thigh the moment he settles in. He can see her hesitate out of the corner of his eye, the instinct to rest her head on his shoulder but afraid to cause him further pain.
He gives her a subtle nod, eyes closing when she gingerly lays her head down and slips her arm around his.
The plane falls silent as the engines roar to life and they begin take off. He watches out the window across from them, as the ground disappears and they break through the clouds.
The silence, unfortunately, leads way for the demons in his head. Tim can still hear Lucy’s screams, the fear in her eyes as they were dragged right by each other to their shared cell. Desperately reaching for the other’s hand as best they could — just as they had on that beach all those weeks ago.
Tim’s not sure how he’s supposed to forgive himself for this, how to navigate the overwhelming amounts of guilt he feels over the fact that he put her in danger and, if he’s being honest, almost killed.
Any one of those torture devices could have done it, or the wrong cut in then wrong place…
That thought alone sends an ice cold shiver down his spine.
He knows he won’t leave her over this, like he stupidly had with Ray. That isn’t the man he is anymore, he knows that isn’t the solution to his pain, or hers. But it’s going to take him a long time to look at her and not feel like the worst person in the world. Unworthy of her commitment after dragging her down into hell on Earth with him.
And of course, he has no idea how she’s feeling. Tim feels like he knows her well enough by now to have some inklings, but that doesn’t stop that voice in his head from whispering and wondering if her love for him has been irreparably damaged by this kidnapping.
Her second kidnapping at that. Another thing he thought of every second he was in that 2’x8’ room. Knowing she too was being held there, just as suffocating as that damn barrel.
Their only solace through the whole thing was the messages they’d leave each other. Using their blood to write on the walls and the tattered remains of the clothes they’d been kidnapped in.
A quick ‘I love you’ or plans on how to escape their nightmare.
If he’s honest with himself, no amount of secret planning was getting them out. They depended on their friends coming to the rescue.
Which makes his blood boil and bile fill his throat.
It’s his job to protect Lucy, to keep her safe and he couldn’t. He was powerless.
She shifts beside him, nuzzling her head further into his shoulder, her arm wrapping tighter around his.
It reminds him of another flight, one that feels years older than it is. When she wasn’t Lucy and he wasn’t Tim. With fake nails and fake tattoos, and more hair gel than he’s ever used in his life.
Overwhelmed, and plagued by a thousand different emotions — some not dissimilar to those he’s feeling so intensely right now.
Although the love he feels for her now is much different, back then it was confusing and unsettling. Tim wasn’t even sure if it really was love or just the consequences of their close proximity day in and day out. The friendship they had forged through it all. None of it had made sense, he couldn’t be in love with his rookie.
But of course he was, he is. So much so that it feels unimaginable, and it only continues to grow as the days go on.
Which is why this entire thing feels so gut-wrenchingly painful. Why he’s never going to be able to forget a single second of the torture she faced, never mind his own.
He doesn’t doubt that Everett was the kind of man to take away what, or rather who, Tim loves the most and then set him free. Make him live with the emptiness of a life without Lucy, let the guilt of how he got them there eat him alive until it takes his life, too.
Tim was minutes away from that reality, he’s certain. Had their friends and coworkers not shown up when they did…
“Hey,” Lucy whispers from her spot beside him, tilting her head up. “Where are you?”
“Right here.” He fakes a smile, reaching over to squeeze the hand wrapped around his bicep.
“You’re not, talk to me.” She sits up, brows furrowed. “We’re gonna be haunted for a while, that's a given but we can’t keep it from each other. I need you to help me get through it, and I know you need me too.”
“I’m just….” He looks around the plane, everyone distracted but that doesn’t stop him from lowering his voice further. “I’m so sorry.”
“What? Tim, this isn’t your fault.”
"If I'd just—"
"Just what, taken the bribe? Compromised who you are as a cop, as a person?” She looks at him, incredulously.
“Yes? At least then you —“
“Stop it.” Lucy shakes her head, a fire in her eyes and a gentle hand resting above his heart. “I don’t blame you for a single part of this, okay?”
“Maybe you don’t, but I do, Luce.” The instinct to pull away from her is right there, but instead he reaches for her. Holds her hand tightly in his own and tries to forget the sounds of her pain echoing in that dirty basement. “My actions and decisions put you in danger, again.”
“And I don’t care about that. I would rather have you and be in danger all of the time than be somewhere else safe without you. Haven’t you learned that by now?”
“I have.” His cheeks flare, looking away from her. She doesn’t let his gaze get far, a hand to his cheek, gently guiding his eyes back to hers.
Despite all they’ve been through, her face is filled with determination. A fire he knows — and loves — all too well.
“You can’t protect me from everything, Tim, no matter how hard you try.”
“I know that, I do, but it doesn’t make it easier.” He mimics her movements, letting go of her hand and cupping her uninjured cheek. His thumb brushing softly against her skin. “I should have tried harder in that basement to get us free, and no matter what you say I’m going to be angry with myself for it.”
“And that’s okay, I feel the same way. Which is why we lean on each other to heal. Promise me you won’t shut me out from whatever it is you’re feeling."
Tim nods his head, he doesn’t necessarily forgive himself yet, but knowing she doesn’t blame him is enough for now. Pulling Lucy into his arms on his next breath, whispering his promise into her skin.
The angle is awkward with how they’re sitting side by side on the small loveseat, seatbelts still strapped tight, but the feeling of having her in his arms is enough to settle even more of the guilt.
The way she clings to him, fists clenched in the fabric of his shirt, has him pulling her even closer — despite the seatbelt cutting into his abdomen.
It reminds him of the hug they shared in the beaming light of day. The first time she was truly in his arms since the beach. The way Lucy ran into him, tears streaming down her face, body shaking. The force of her, as she crashed into him, making his ribs ache. A desperate plea in her voice as she repeated “I love you” over and over again. Her knotted hair tangled between his fingers as he declared the same.
The reality of their escape hadn’t hit him until that moment, with Lucy safely back by his side.
They hold each other for a long time, the only movement they make is to unbuckle their seatbelts and get into a more comfortable position.
But just as before, the silence of the plane goes from comforting to eerie the longer it stretches on. Making way for the memories to return, the anxiety prickling along his skin. He feels himself hold Lucy just a bit tighter, but tries his best to not let it drown him as it has before.
Lucy shifts, her own grip on his bruised body tightening as well.
“I—“ She starts suddenly with a whisper, a slow breath as she lifts her head and looks up at him. There’s something in her eyes now that wasn’t there a few hours ago, something painful. Dark and terrified. Lucy wets her lips, tries again, but the words die just the same. “They could’ve —“
Tim watches as her right hand reaches up to her side, pressing in the place where her tattoo lies.
Her supposed day of death. That never came to be.
Over the last two weeks, however…
Any one of the past twelve days could have been her day of death. His, too.
And it seems that fact is finally catching up to her, as Tim knew it would.
She’s always been good at compartmentalization, sometimes to her own detriment. Focusing on everyone and everything around her instead of herself.
But it always catches up to her.
This time, however, he was hoping they could make it home before it did.
Lucy lowers her gaze, her breath coming in short bursts now. He reaches for the wrist of the hand not pressing into her side, two fingers on her pulse. Feeling it rapidly increase with every shaky breath she struggles to take.
He may not have been able to keep her safe in that basement, couldn’t protect her from their captors, but he can do this.
Tim can protect her from the memories, from drowning in her anxiety, and like she said just a little while ago, help her get through the after.
Be her rock. Her steadfast, constant support.
And perhaps that’s more important than any physical protection he wishes he’d given her.
“Take a deep breath, in and out.” He instructs, softly. Taking a deep breath of his own.
Lucy does as he says — once, twice, three times, before finally dropping her hand from her tattoo.
Though she immediately begins to twist the ring on her finger, tension still tight in her shoulders.
He’s thankful they recovered it, her engagement ring. That the symbol of his commitment to her wasn’t lost in the kidnapping. Angela had given it to him on the ride to the hospital and he’d slipped it back onto Lucy’s finger after they'd changed and got ready to leave for the airport. Bandaged and bruised.
The sweet, soft smile on Lucy’s face had felt like a different kind of sunlight. Thinking how the silent promise they made as he returned the diamond to its rightful place felt even more powerful than the words he'd spoken at the beach.
“Luce, look at me.” He murmurs softly, ensuring the conversation stays between them. The last thing Lucy needs is the eyes of the entire cabin on her in her most vulnerable moment.
He waits for her to lift her eyes, dark like black holes pulling him into her gravity. “All you need to think about right now is that we’re safe. We’re going home.”
“We’re going home.” She repeats. Squeezing the hand he’s still holding.
“You can tell me the rest then, okay? All of it. When we’re back home in our bed. For now just think about home, reuniting with Kojo.”
“Okay.” She whispers in a broken tone, a soft sniffle as she tries to keep the tears at bay. “I miss Kojo so much.”
“Me too, he’s gonna be so happy to see you.” Tim presses a lingering kiss to her head, breathing in the sterile scent of the hospital shampoo. “We’ll make it through this, together. Just like you said.”
“I give good advice.” Her voice is steadier, looking at him with a subtle teasing smile.
“You do.” He smiles back, wiping an errant tear from her cheek.
They settle back onto the couch, Lucy immediately putting her head back gingerly on his shoulder and her legs draped across his lap. He gives her knee a comforting squeeze, resting his head atop hers.
He can’t wait for the minute he can finally get real sleep. In his own bed with soft sheets and Lucy’s body curled perfectly into his. Kojo snuggled at the end by their feet.
“You give good advice too, you know.”
Tim can feel the way her cheek raises with a smile, her lashes tickling against his skin.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. The best advice you ever gave me was after Caleb, I think it works pretty well right now for both of us.”
“First day of the rest of your life.” He muses, another memory that feels like a lifetime ago.
The first time Tim realized Lucy meant more to him than any boot ever had before. All he wanted in that moment, in the aftermath of her abduction, was to help her.
Like now.
Lucy hums in agreement, tilting her head up before pulling his face to hers, foreheads pressed softly together. “Our lives now.”
“Our lives.” He repeats, closing the minuscule space between them. The softest of kisses pressed to her chapped lips.
They pull apart again, resuming their previous positions. It’s not long until he feels Lucy fall asleep, as he stares out the tiny plane window.
Their physical scares will fade soon, and for the first time in almost twelve hours, Tim thinks the invisible ones will, too.
As long as they continue to fight for each other, to lean on each other.
They’ve always been better as a team, anyway.