Chapter Text
He woke up with her name on his lips. Which was unfortunate, as he immediately realized he was with Ashley. He wasn’t sure if he’d actually said it out loud, but he had a feeling he had. He could still sense the shape of her name on his tongue. The breathless way in which he had pushed it out of his chest, as he fought his way out of that horrendous scene he got stuck in in his sleep.
He had been sobbing in the dream, and even though there were no tears, the pressure behind his eyes made him feel like he had been crying for hours. His breathing was uneven, his heart pounding in his chest.
Ashley was sound asleep on her side of the bed. He regretted staying over, now. He hadn’t really felt like it in the first place, but they were always at his place and he knew she wanted him to feel comfortable at hers, too. Which he didn’t. And he was pretty sure she wasn’t feeling at home at his place, either. So, he made an effort. That’s what you do when you’re in a relationship. But now he wished he hadn’t.
He was at a point where he believed the nightmares weren’t ever going to stop completely. He hadn’t had any lately, which was the most treacherous. He could always count on the next one coming back with a vengeance, and apparently the most traumatized part of his brain decided tonight was party time.
Since Lucy was taken, he’d had all kinds of awful dreams about it. But the two recurring dreams he had were the worst ones. There was the One Where He Can’t Get To Her. It was him, standing in that desolate, godforsaken place. He could hear her singing. He found the ring. But no matter how frantically he dug, no matter how deep, or how long, or how many places he tried, there was no barrel. And while he was uselessly trying to get to her, he could hear her voice get weaker and weaker. From that one, he always woke up screaming.
Tonight, it had been the other one. The One Where Nothing He Does Works. He had found her. But he couldn’t bring her back. He didn’t know which of the two was worse. It was always the most recent one that felt like the worst he ever had. And that’s how he felt now. He was still shaking, his throat tight from uncontrollably sobbing her name as he couldn’t get her to take the breath he was desperately offering her. Couldn’t get her heart to pick up on the rhythm he was setting out for her.
Lucy, please. Lucy, please. Lucy, please.
The panic had clawed its way inside of him, making him want to crawl out of his own skin. He needed to get out of this bed. Out of this room, away from the woman sleeping peacefully beside him. It felt all wrong. Like he shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be with her. All of him was calling out for Lucy. He needed to get to her. Hear her. See her. Know she was alright.
His clothes were neatly placed on the chair close to the bed, where he always left them when he spent the night here. He slipped into his jeans, trying to convince himself it was just a dream. His brain knew it was, but his body hadn’t fully caught up. He still felt the experience bone deep. His hands still trembling, hurting from pushing her chest. The words Lucy and no and please still echoing through his brain.
As he slipped out of the bedroom and quietly closed the door, he felt momentarily bad for just walking out on Ashley. But he was supposed to get up early anyway, to feed and take care of Kojo before work. She probably wouldn’t even notice he’d left in the middle of the night.
She’s okay, he silently repeated over and over again. She’s okay, she’s okay, she’s okay. As he made his way to his truck, he checked his phone. Ever since he was with Ashley, Lucy hadn’t reached out to him once. It wasn’t like she’d been doing it continuously before. In fact, he felt like she hadn’t done it enough. And it had become even less of an occurrence, now, even though he thought he made it clear he’d always be there for her.
So, he’d find ways to check in with her. There seemed to be some kind of pattern he couldn’t explain rationally, but it was there nonetheless. He’d noticed every time he had a bad night, Lucy had come in the next morning looking tired, too. She’d be quiet at the start of their shift. Not asking him questions about how he’d spent his evening or weekend. Not telling him about some kind of stupid show she watched. Not even making any effort to get him to turn on the radio. That’s how he figured out his bad dreams somehow… coincided with hers.
It didn’t make any sense logically, but he couldn’t deny the way he felt tethered to her. Attuned to her on a level that went beyond having a shorthand. Beyond spending a certain amount of time together on the job, because he has worked closely with a lot of people before, but it never felt like this. Like he could tell how she felt by taking one look at her. Like he could read even the tiniest of her facial expressions. Picked up on every little fucking hitch in her breathing, each and every dip or high pitch in her voice. He could even see it now. The way they moved the same, stood the same, did the same fucking thing at the exact same fucking moment, like they weren’t even separate people anymore.
That’s why he was sure she was awake right now. He could just sense her fear. Her loneliness, from waking up scared and having to deal with it by herself. He didn’t know how to explain it any other way than, when he got her out of the barrel, he had breathed a part of his own essence into her. And now part of him lived inside of her, feeling what she felt.
He dialed her number as soon as he was on the road. And she answered pretty fucking fast for someone who was supposed to be asleep. He’d usually make up an excuse on the top of his head, like asking her about paperwork she was supposed to file, or running an idea by her to crack a case they were working. Pretending he was losing sleep over some kind of work-related issue.
But somehow, he didn’t have it in him to pretend. He wasn’t just worried. He was angry. Angry some idiot decided to take a whole hospital hostage which meant he got stuck there all day, unable to check in with Lucy. He was angry for not being there at trial prep. Angry for not even knowing how she was doing all day long. For not having had a chance to check in with her properly. Angry for waking up next to this woman he never really wanted to be with in the first place. For never just being able–
‘Tim?’
‘Are you okay?’ he blurted out, realizing he was driving way too fast and forcefully taking his foot of the gas, that seemed to have a mind of its own.
‘What? I’m… It’s three in the morning. Why are you calling me?’
‘Why aren’t you calling me?’ He was angry with himself, mostly. But he transferred it to her, just to have some place to go with all this boiling tension in the pit of his stomach.
‘W-Was I supposed to?’ He could hear the tremble in her voice. The way her breathing was a bit too fast and ragged, and how she was trying to hide all of that. ‘Did I forget something important?’
‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘It’s fucking important for you to call me, whenever you have trouble sleeping. You promised me you would, yet you never do. You know what that makes you, boot?’ It was the first time he slipped up since she made P2, and now he realized he missed calling her that. ‘Makes you a lying liar who lies. You know how I hate it when people lie to me, so why are you doing it?’
‘I’m not… I just didn’t think–’
‘Don’t bullshit me. I just had the mother of all nightmares and I can’t fucking breathe until I have convinced myself with all five senses that you are okay. So, try telling me again how you’re not crying right now.’
‘I’m not,’ she said in that defiant way that appeased at least one of his senses enough to try and take a shuttering breath.
‘Yes, you fucking are.’ He was aware he was throwing fucks around in every other sentence, and maybe that was saying something, too. How he found himself unable to reign it in.
‘I was crying, but now I’m too distracted being yelled at.’
He breathed out. Slowing down yet again and realizing he wasn’t on his way home. When he spoke again, he had a bit of a grip. ‘I’m sorry for yelling.’
‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘It beats being locked in that barrel all over again. Kind of nice being distracted from that sort of thing.’
‘Lucy, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry you had to relive all of that today and I wasn’t there.’
‘Could you stop feeling like it’s your job to fix everything for me? It’s not anymore, Tim. Okay? I’m not your rookie. Haven’t been for a while, so you don’t have to–’
‘I know I don’t have to. This isn’t about that. I’m not doing my job when it comes to you.’ There was a question right there in the static between them, one that neither one of them was asking. If he wasn’t doing his job, then what was he doing? ‘We’re friends.’
He threw it out there fast. Like a life preserver. Something to grab and hold on to, to keep them from going under. Friends could do this sort of thing. Call each other in the middle of the night. He could drive to a friends’ house at 3 a.m. if they needed him.
‘You were supposed to call, Lucy. I made you promise. Why can’t you just do that?’
‘Tim…’ She laughed, but it was just about the least happy sound he could imagine. ‘You know why.’
‘No, I don’t. I need to know you’re okay, and if you’re not… I need to know that, too. You’re supposed to call me when you need me. I need to be able to trust you’ll do that, or–’
‘I am not supposed to need you!’ she yelled. ‘You are not the one I should be calling. There are other people in our lives now. We should be relying on them for support.’
‘So, did you?’ He ignored the churning of his stomach. The sting in his chest and that raging sensation that felt a lot like jealousy. He hadn’t given the existence of Chris a single thought up until now. Forgot about him completely. ‘Is he there, now?’
‘No…’ she whispered and he could hear the trepidation in her voice. There was something she wasn’t telling him.
‘Did something happen at trial prep?’
‘It just… it was harder than I thought it would be. I decided I’m not going to testify. I want to put it behind me, and I can’t talk about it right now, Tim. I can’t, because minutes ago I felt like I was still trapped inside of that barrel. And… you know… I thought I could hear the song now, because last time, with you, I was fine. But I wasn’t fine today. I panicked and I can’t… I don’t want to talk about it.’
‘Okay. It’s okay. You don’t have to. You don’t have to testify. And you don’t have to tell me about today, or your dreams. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. You are in charge, Lucy.’ He pulled up in her street, right in front of her building and he heard her crying again. Soft little sobs she was desperately trying to suppress. ‘Listen to me. You got out. You survived. Lucy…’ He waited a second, trying to get her to calm down. To get her here, in this moment, with him. ‘Lucy?’
‘Yeah?’
‘You got out. Repeat that back to me.’
‘I… g-got out,’ she said in a shaky voice.
‘Damn right you did. The song can’t hurt you. No one can. You are safe. You are strong. You made it out. And you made it through today.’
‘I’ll never be free, Tim. I’m always on a hair trigger. One step away from falling right back into that barrel. Sometimes it feels like I never really got out. Like this is the dream, but actually I’m still trapped.’
‘You’re not trapped. Say it again, out loud: you got out.’
‘I got out…’
‘You got out. Again, Lucy. Keep saying it.’ He made her repeat it over and over, five times, ten times, until she got so annoyed with him, she had no choice but to believe it. ‘See?’ he said triumphant. ‘You’re out.’
‘You got me out,’ she whispered. ‘I saw it.’
‘You… saw the footage?’
She hummed in response.
‘Shit, that must have been…’
‘I watched you save me.’
He was quiet then, giving her space to speak. It took her over a minute to continue.
‘You’ve helped me ever since. Saved me time and time again. And I think… I think I rely on it too much. It’s why I can’t let myself call you. I need to be able to get myself through this.’
‘Lucy…’
‘I need that for me, Tim. Don’t tell me it’s–’
‘I wasn’t going to disagree. I want to tell you about my dream. Can I do that?’
She stayed silent, and he decided to take it as permission to continue.
‘I’ve been having recurring dreams. Horrible ones. About not being able to find you. Not succeeding in rescuing you. It’s my worst nightmare, Lucy, not being able to help you. Don’t you get that?’
‘I… Tim… I’m so sorry I did that to you.’
‘No! You didn’t do that. It was done to me, just like it has been done to you. My part in it, I’m not comparing that to yours, but what I’m saying is: the things that trigger you, are the same things that trigger me. And every time you think I was helping you, you were helping me through that moment as well.’
She makes a confused, adorable little sound.
‘My point is: I need you, too. I woke up in a cold sweat, and the only thing I knew was I needed to get to you. I’m right outside your building right now, because I couldn’t make myself turn around–’
‘Wait… You’re what?’
‘I know it was you tied up in a trunk. Held captive and beaten to a pulp in the middle of nowhere. It was you in the barrel, not me. If there was any way for me to trade places with you, I would do it in a heartbeat, but I can’t make that happen. But what I can do, is be right beside you while you heal from this. Because you are, Lucy. You are healing. And if you really feel like this is an unhealthy dynamic for you, I’ll back off. But I don’t see anything wrong with two people helping each other deal with the aftermath of trauma. I just don’t.’
He could hear her breathing, and he dropped back his head against the head rest of his seat, feeling like he could breathe for the very first time since he woke up.
‘I’ll just sit here, okay? Because that’s what I need. I’ll sit here in front of your door, for me. I’ll sit here and I’ll talk to you until I’ve bored you to sleep. I’ll sit here, so I know you’re safe.’
‘Tim, you can’t sleep in your truck,’ she said. ‘You have a job to do in a couple of hours. You need to try and get some rest.’
‘I won’t be sleeping if I go home now, either. So, I’m screwed either way.’
‘And I guess you wouldn’t feel comfortable coming up, right?’
He heard her perfectly fine, but for a moment he was so stunned, he acted like he hadn’t. ‘What?’
‘I need you to come up, Tim.’ She hung up on him, leaving him a bit dazed, and unable to move. He took his phone in hand, staring at the screen in wonder. It’s not like he had any doubt about who the brave one was out of the two of them, but she never failed to catch him off guard anyway. When he shifted his gaze to the entrance of her building, taking it in like it was the portal to some forbidden place, the door swung open.
That was when he stopped thinking. He was out of his truck in the blink of an eye, crossing the street and slipping through the door before it had the chance to fall shut. Waiting for the elevator, he started spiraling again. They weren’t doing anything wrong, he reminded himself going up. Yeah, he just snuck out of the bed his girlfriend was soundly sleeping in, and now he was on his way to Lucy’s apartment, but it wasn’t like that. He wasn’t going to do anything other than be her friend. He could allow himself to be her friend.
He was expecting to see her waiting for him at her door, but she wasn’t. For a second, he thought she changed her mind and he halted. Then he noticed the door was slightly ajar. He gave it a push, walking into her dark apartment.
‘Lucy?’ he called out. Because he needed to make sure. He couldn’t afford to misread the situation, here.
‘In here,’ she answered from her bedroom. She had the light on in there. He could see it pour through the frosted glass of the door, left cracked open. Like an invitation. He locked the front door, left his phone and keys on the kitchen island, kicked of his shoes before he walked further.
He knocked, and entered her bedroom immediately, driven by a barely controllable urgency. He had heard her voice, which meant there were still four of his senses screaming at him to let them take their fill of her. And he did, pretty much all at once.
He saw her…
… standing in an oversized LAPD-issued shirt that had belonged to West. It hit her mid-thigh and he was exercising superhuman strength not to let his eyes drop down, or think of her wearing his clothes instead. Her hair was messy from tossing and turning, her skin blotchy from crying.
She looked like she’d been pacing her room. She looked nervous, and he realized he probably took a bit longer to come up than she expected him to. ‘I thought you changed your mind,’ she said, confirming that notion.
He reached out. He touched her…
… drawing her close, pulling her into his chest. She let out something between a sob and a sigh when she collided with him. He felt her arm come up around him, clutching the fabric of his shirt in her fist halfway up his back.
‘You’re okay,’ he whispered, and he listened…
… to that soft mewling sound she smothered against him as he gently stroked her hair.
‘You’re okay,’ he repeated. He needed to keep saying it, because in his dream she hadn’t been and he was still shaken to the core. His mind knew too well how to make it realistic. For a never-ending stretch of time, it had been reality. She had been gone. He knew all too well what that felt like, what it looked like and he had no clue how he was keeping himself from crushing her against him like he did then.
He let her scent wash over him, smelling her hair…
… as he pressed his cheek to the top of her head and held her close. He briefly wondered if he smelled weird to her, because he always felt like he did when he’d stayed over at Ashley’s. He blamed that OceanBreeze spray she used on her linen that – luckily – didn’t resemble what the ocean really smelled like at all, just some manufactured idea of it that people were buying into.
She pulled back a little, and all thoughts of Ashley disappeared when he looked into her teary eyes. The pull was a familiar feeling, by now. He wasn’t taken aback by it, like he was the first time. He was an expert at resisting it, so he felt comfortable to let it be there.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked, softly brushing her cheek with the back of his fingers. She just nodded, looking up at him with those big brown eyes in that way of hers, like she was asking him to do something he just couldn’t let himself do.
He leaned in anyway, close enough to make himself believe he actually could taste her. Their foreheads touched. And he felt her breath on his face, shared air with her, like they were just one human being instead of two separate ones. He felt like maybe this was the most intimate he’d ever been with anyone.
It was that thought that made him step back, realizing just in time there was only so much he could resist.
‘So,’ he said a little uneasy. (Not even that much.) ‘You want to try and get some more sleep?’
‘Yeah… Okay…’ She looked uneasy, too.
‘I could…’ he started to offer, gesturing to the door. He could take the couch. Should take the couch.
She cut him off quickly, though. ‘No.’ She bit her lip, like she felt she’d been too eager and for a second he expected her to backtrack. She didn’t. ‘No. Please, just… Stay.’ She moved around him, to the messy side of the bed. He waited for her to slip under the covers before laying himself down on top of the neat side.
‘You want to leave the light on?’ he asked.
‘Uhm… For now. Just for a few more minutes, if that’s okay with you?’
‘It’s fine. I don’t mind.’ They were both quiet. He tried to even out his breathing, which didn’t quite work to begin with and was a lost cause when he felt Lucy turn under the covers to face him. He forced his eyes shut, but he could feel hers on him, anyway.
‘You smell weird,’ she said.
He chuckled. Of course she’d notice. ‘It’s uh… some kind of mist Ashley uses on her laundry.’
‘She does your laundry now?’
‘No!’ He looked her way. ‘God, no. It’s just… all over her sheets, too.’
‘Oh… so… okay…’ She did that lip biting thing again and he was suddenly fighting the urge to clarify he didn’t have sex with Ashley tonight. Somehow, it was essential to him for her to know that, but there was no coming back from that conversation. No logical explanation for telling Lucy he hadn’t slept with his actual girlfriend before getting in bed with her. He just hoped she knew anyway. She smiled like she did. ‘It’s… nice.’
He rolled his eyes, facing the ceiling again. ‘Liar. You hate it.’
‘No… You hate it. I think it’s nice. In a… carwash kind of way.’
He didn’t laugh, even though he wanted to. It did smell like a carwash.
‘You can ask her to stop using it, you know,’ Lucy said, slipping her hand underneath her pillow. ‘Relationships are all about compromise.’
‘I know.’ He didn’t want her to change anything for him, though. Because he wasn’t sure he was willing to change for her.
She sighed and turned on her back. ‘This probably was a bad idea, huh? We’re not getting any sleep like this.’
‘Why don’t you just pretend you’re on a stake out?’ he joked, getting the exact response out of her he was hoping for.
‘That happened one time! It was my first graveyard shift and you tricked me. Can’t believe you still feel the need to bring it up.’
‘Still got the T-shirts,’ he said.
‘You’re the worst…’
‘I’m great and you know it.’
She made an unimpressed sound, which made her sound a bit like a teenager. It never failed to simultaneously annoy and endear him. She shifted under the comforter, stretching her arm out to turn off the light, and trying to get comfortable again.
While his eyes adjusted to the dark, he reached out, running his finger along the back of her hand. ‘Just relax.’ She looked his way, like she was checking if his touch had been accidental. He met her eyes, maintaining eye contact as he took her hand in his. She was close enough to see her clearly in the dark. ‘This okay for you?’
She nodded. Her lips moved a little, forming a silent yes.
He smiled, and he could feel her settle next to him, close to him. ‘It wasn’t the worst idea,’ he said. ‘Right?’
She smiled back. ‘Maybe not.’
They lay there looking at each other for a while, until their blinking slowed, their breathing slowed and they fell asleep, her small hand still wrapped in his large one.