Chapter Text
An unexpected but unsurprising truth you learn on the job is that the hospital becomes your second home away from home. If you’re lucky, the causes for visits include suspect checkups, interviewing hospital staff, or even a required health evaluation after getting into a particularly bad scuffle. And, if you’re profoundly unlucky, you’re visiting because a colleague, friend, or loved one is there.
Today was one of those profoundly unlucky days. Tim went into autopilot once he entered the hospital. Doctors hounded him with questions and he had never felt so useless. He didn’t have an answer to anything beyond her full name, date of birth, and blood type. Then, once Jerry arrived, all he could do was sit in silence with the perpetually smiling man whose heart was shattered in every second that passed without an update.
Nyla approached Tim, weary and solemn in the hospital waiting room. Still clad in basketball shorts, a muscle tee, and an LAPD jacket, Nyla hadn’t seen him in such a disheveled state in the years she had known him. “Hey, Tim. I’m here to get your official statement… for the investigation. Can you walk me through the events? Leading up to when you found her?”
Broken from his daze, Tim registered her presence, half expecting it to have been Angela — wishing it was Angela — but appreciative to have a friendly face nonetheless after dealing with the less familiar night shift officers. “Yeah. Ah… I was walking with Emmett and… he saw Ashley first. We ran and she was there… unconscious. Bleeding. She regained consciousness for a moment in the bus and said something like “help,” a few mumbles, and “find her.” Then she was tired and…“ Tim gulped hard, his voice catching in his throat.
The fluorescent lights bore mercilessly down on him, carrying a dark shadow over his face and highlighting his exhaustion.
“If this isn’t a good time, I can come back later. We have Emmett’s statement already… or Angela can take it if that’s easier. She’s on her way.”
For the first time in hours, Tim took a good look at his clothes. Formerly bright red and now burgundy splotches stained his shorts and small smatters decorated the tops of his white socks. When he had scrubbed the blood — Ashley’s blood — from his arms, he had been so consumed by the swirling, reddened water that he hadn’t considered changing.
“I… is Jerry alright?” His reddened, tired eyes finally looked deeply into hers.
Nyla sighed and shrugged. “I hope so. Webb let me know he dropped him off at home. Jerry-“ she laughed softly. “Jerry had them stop for pancakes on the way to his house. Webb said he told him some stories while they were there. I think he just didn’t want to be alone.”
Tim smiled. Jerry was always a warm guy and a great storyteller. Although, the reminder of Jerry brought a dark expression to his eyes. “Nyla, she’s gone.” Tim’s final words came out as a whisper. “She’s really gone.”
Without a second thought, Nyla pulled Tim tight against her. Though she had never been close with Ashley, they had spent enough years together and she was deeply valued by enough people Nyla loved to make Ashley’s loss fall heavy on her. “Tim, are you going to be alright? Can I drive you home?”
He had barely raised his arms to gently embrace her back before his mind raced to answer her question. Will I be alright? “Yes and no. It’s alright.” It will be. With a sudden rebound in focus, Tim’s hand clenched into a tight fist. It will be alright and someone will pay for this. “What do we know so far? Any leads?” He asked with a stronger tone.
Nyla licked her lips. Typically assured, she hesitated for a moment, concerned for her friend’s mental wellbeing. “Tim… we’re pretty sure it was Rosalind.” She said cautiously, observing every twitch in Tim’s face. “I’m not going to show you the video right now and it’s grainy. But it showed who we believe is Rosalind, ambushing Ashley on the way to her car. She placed Ashley on a bench and, well… she… did it while staring directly at the camera. Smiling.”
“She wanted us to know it was her.” Tim stated. It was the obvious conclusion, but the adrenaline and exhaustion played at each other to the point that he was unable to contain his thoughts. “What now? Do we have a location on her?” He might have failed to save her, but Ashley’s last words were a request for him to get her killer and he wouldn’t fail twice.
“No. We found a letter addressed to Nolan in Ashley’s car that said “See you soon.” We can assume we’ll see more of her and we all need to be on high alert.”
Tim nodded, his eyes widening with more concern as Nyla’s words sunk into his tired brain. “Nyla, we need-“
She placed a soothing hand on his shoulder. “Already done. We placed a protective detail on your sister. She’s a little freaked out, but okay.”
“And Lucy?”
“Lucy?” Nyla blinked curiously as she tried to place the name. “Oh… no. I’m sorry, we prioritized family… I never considered it. We’re short staffed, but I’ll coordinate with North Hollywood for the detail.” She cursed herself, not typically one to miss important details, she was already consumed with her contacts list to find the right person to make it happen. “Please excuse me.” Nyla said as she raised her phone close, shuffling down a hall.
The hardened floor shone an unnatural blue hue and Tim kicked his shoe against it. His burning eyes boring holes in the tile. How could this happen? Why didn’t Rosalind stay lost?
When Ashley’s eyes drew closed and she mumbled about how tired she was, Tim still had hope. He assured Jerry that he’d have a chance to talk to her. And when Jerry needed him, no words of encouragement came. All he could do was sit in the quiet waiting room while muffled sounds penetrated the doors from frantic doctors and nurses working on the other side.
He knew things were bad when he attempted for an update and a nurse physically pushed him back out. They knew what could happen. Jerry realized it too. His eyes were wet and wide when Tim was roughly shoved towards him. Jerry never even asked how she was. He muttered prayers to himself, but Tim only heard Jerry ask for a miracle, and a quieter prayer for peace.
It only took a gut-wrenching twenty minutes before a bloodied ER doctor took a solemn walk to the waiting room. Jerry didn’t even stand, knowing that his legs wouldn’t have ever held up under the weight of the news. As the doctor delivered the reality with painstaking precision to quickly put them out of their misery, Jerry weakly attempted to prevent himself from melting into the floor—the chair nearly proving to not be enough after all. The words would etch permanently in his mind until the day he died: “Ashley died while we worked on her. She lost too much blood and there’s nothing more we can do. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
The nurses worked diligently to prepare her in a way that Jerry could stomach. Remembering her as she was, not as she may seem now is always the advice. They shielded her gruesome injuries and cleaned away the blood. Tim however, declined to see her again. He saw enough in the parking lot; on the ride over; briefly in the ER. Any view of her in a cleaner state would’ve felt disingenuous.
What he did do was see Jerry out. Listen with grace as Jerry spoke low and with a distance about how she looked as though she were sleeping. They sat together for several hours and Jerry would periodically tell a story about her. Some stories Tim already knew, but many reminded Tim of what a vibrant person she was and pangs of guilt struck him as he learned new things like her fear of ladybugs or obsession with Ancient Greece. Had it not been for the personal-free zone he strictly enforced, perhaps his partner of so many years would’ve shared these stories as joyously as her father.
“Tim.” Angela’s brows were fiercely knit together. She had undoubtedly been woken up after possibly not getting much sleep anyways. “How are you doing?” Her glassy gaze held strong on him, urging Tim to look at her.
“Ang.” Tim’s jaw clenched tight with determination. “We’re going to find Rosalind.”
Angela rose up, tugging on his shirt with increased force as he began to resemble a stubborn boulder. “C’mon. You’re staying with us tonight. No arguments. Wesley is already setting up the sleeper sofa, and before you complain, remember we have a trust fund: that shit’s nicer than any bed you or I have ever owned.” She said slyly in hopes to snap him out of his spiral. “Grey would tell us to go home and he’d be right. We’re not catching Rosalind. Let’s get a few hours of sleep and get to it when it’s light out.”
To her satisfaction, Tim snorted with amusement. “I’m sure you’re right. On the bed and going home.” He affirmed, giving in and rising from his seat to walk with her. “Thanks, Angela. I don’t think I could do this without you.”
Smirking, Angela wrapped her around to hold Tim to her side as they walked. “Trust me. I know.”
Stars shinin' bright above you
Night breezes seem to whisper, "I love you"
Birds singin' in the sycamore tree
Dream a little dream of me
Sweet lyrics encouraging sweeter memories wormed through Lucy’s mind and before she could even comprehend her actions, she was sleepily mumbling along to the words.
“I always have loved it when you sing. The house is a lot quieter without you around.” Caleb hovered close, a faint buzzing sound starting and a familiar, vstinging sensation came into focus along her ribs.
Lucy’s head snapped up and horrified to see Caleb etching something on her body. “Caleb, what are you doing?” She strained her neck to make out the words. “What’s DOD?”
Too focused on his actions, Caleb didn’t utter a word. His grip remained firm around the tattoo gun while he completed the date. “Date of death.” He said, leaning back to review his handiwork. “That’ll do it.”
“What-Caleb. What are…” Lucy gulped to ground herself. “Caleb, are you going to kill me?”
To her surprise, he laughed and placed a hand on her thigh. “No, silly. That’s not for you. It’s for us.” He lifted his grey shirt to reveal reddened skin surrounding a similar tattoo on himself albeit with a shakier application. “It marks the day we shed who we were and face the future. Death. Rebirth. Together.” Caleb patted her leg and brought his hand up to caress Lucy’s hair. “You’ll understand.”
“Why did you do all of this? How did you do all of this? Did-did you have help?” The thought suddenly made her sick to realize that there could be some cohort of psychos plotting together and imagine who else could be hurt in all of this.
“I did this for you. You needed a wake up call, Luce. Here it is. Here we are.” He said, standing and walking towards the kitchen. “I’ll make us something to eat.” Caleb took a few steps, pausing in the doorframe. “I want us to start over with honesty, so… yes. I did have help. Actually, you can thank Chris for that. I never would’ve found the Dye Hards without him.”
Realization dawned on Lucy and her tone became stern. “Caleb. Are you working with Rosalind Dyer? She’s dangerous. Whatever she told you is a lie. Is she here?”
Caleb sighed and turned, his knuckles turning white from his grip on the wood trim. “She wants to help us, Lucy.”
“She’s a psychopath. She doesn’t care about you or us.”
A chill unleashed from her past trauma as a darkened expression overcame Caleb and his posture stiffened. “You don’t know anything. You’re always like this. Psychoanalyzing everything. This is why you settled for being a lifeguard.” Softening at her startled appearance, Caleb’s mood shifted and he smirked. “You gotta get out of your head. Besides, she got something in return.”
“What?”
“She has unfinished business with the LAPD. She got her chance to make things right.” Uninterested in further conversation, Caleb’s footsteps disappeared further into the house.
Lucy gripped the edges of the rickety chair arms and blinked tears away. Caleb’s words taunted her, but she couldn’t let him win. Not again. And, as she considered her options, she wasn’t sure which she hoped for more: Tim to find her or a chance to warn him of the dangers that were waiting.