Chapter Text
Lucy watched from a distance, spotting Tim talking to three tattooed, beefy guys; he looked tiny compared to them.
After more than a day of searching, she'd finally caught up to him, sneaking past half a dozen other beefy dudes, not waiting for backup as she shimmied through a window and crouched behind a stack of crates, far enough to be able to make a move to extricate herself if need be, but close enough to hear the intense back and forth between the three guys, Tim standing to the side, not saying anything.
At least he didn't look injured, and he wasn't dead.
When she woke up yesterday to find his side of the bed cold and unslept, she hadn't thought of much - he'd told her he wanted to head down to the station to see if he could attend a meeting and grab his stack of paperwork and work from home, keep her company while the formalities of her officer-involved shooting were being finalised. Even his phone being left on the bedside table wasn't too much of a shocker for her. But when Lieutenant Pine of all people had called her to ask where Tim was and she'd answered with a "Is he not at the station?", she pushed herself off the bed and looked for any signs as to where he was.
Nothing, no pointers as to which way he'd gone. His truck keys were still near the door, truck still parked out front.
Did he walk? But where too?
She walked back into the bedroom, her eye caught by a misplaced post-it on her board.
LOVE YOU - TIM.
Just that note, nothing else.
And now, she'd caught up to him, following him to a repair shop on the outskirts, calling the rest of the team for backup but not waiting - something was amiss, and she needed to find out what.
She was so busy being relieved at seeing Tim again she hadn't realised that the three guys had walked off, leaving Tim to stand there alone, still unmoving.
Hesitantly, she stuck her head out behind the crates, letting out a psst to catch Tim's attention. That it did - his eyes widened, and he hastily made his way towards her, grabbing her by the arm and moving them towards the back office, locking the door behind them.
"Lucy? You shouldn't be here," he said, and she noticed for the first time a gash on his temple, his palm bandaged. He looked like he'd been in a scuffle or two.
"Tim - where have you been? Are you okay? Why haven't you reached out?" she asked, tracing the gash on his temple, dried blood still on his temple.
"I - I will be fine. I - I needed to go, for your safety. And I couldn't reach out, not without them noticing and asking too many questions, questions that would put a target on your back."
"Tim, what's going on? Please, tell me; you know you can tell me, right?"
"I, I know, but..." Tim stopped the sound of sirens now getting louder and louder. He looked around, the sound of someone calling out "BRADFORD" cutting over the sirens.
"I got to go, Lucy," he said, turning around, but she grabbed him by the sleeve, pulling him back.
"Why are you shutting me out, Tim? I can handle being a target, but I can't handle not knowing what's going on."
"Lucy, I love you. I know you must be confused, and angry at me, but I want you to know this - I love you." He pulled her in for a deep kiss, pulling away only when he heard another "BRADFORD" echo throughout the building, "I promise I'll explain everything when it's safe."
He opened the door, stealing a quick glance back at her, as she called out his name again - what did he mean when it was safe? Safe for whom? So, was he still in danger?
She ran to follow but stopped behind the ajar door when she spotted one of the guys yelling at Tim once again, and Tim shaking his head.
"Hey! You!" Someone called out, and Lucy froze when she realised it was directed at her. Fuck.
Her eyes met Tim's and he rushed toward the one who'd spotted her, standing off against him despite the fact that he was indeed tiny in front of him, and would no doubt have easily been swatted away.
The sirens were now deafeningly loud, and Lucy was certain that her backup had finally arrived; everything was going to be over, Tim could come home, and she could finally stop losing her mind.
She should have known that things in her life were never that simple.
No sooner did she hear Angela's familiar voice shouting "LAPD", than two of the three lads returned fire, and Angela was forced to duck, and Lucy pulled out her own firearm, shooting the one that had yelled at her in the leg.
That only seemed to annoy him more, and he shot back, forcing Lucy to move away from the door, reloading her mag.
When she next popped her head out, the gunfire was still ongoing, but now Tim was being dragged away by the two who did not have bullets in their legs, a steady stream of blood trickling out between his lips.
Did she just put him in more danger?