Chapter Text
The ambulance ride to the nearest hospital was, for lack of a better word, agonising — for Tim and Lucy alike.
Lucy's blood pressure was dangerously low, even with the unit of blood they were transfusing her with in the rig, and she kept phasing in and out of consciousness, the pain that her body was experiencing, coupled with the massive blood loss, too much for her to handle.
Every single time that she closed her eyes, every time that her hand went slack in his own, Tim found himself holding his breath, his eyes watching the monitors intently, terrified that something was about to happen that would take her away from him permanently.
With the state of both of their luck, it wasn't exactly a stretch to be afraid of that happening. The universe, their lives, was messed up enough that he could vividly imagine Lucy having survived four and a half days of torture, of being kidnapped for the second time in two and a half years, being shot and killing a man for the first time only to succumb to her injuries.
Shaking the thoughts out of his brain, Tim's hand convulsed around Lucy's own, holding onto it so tightly that, had she been awake, it could've hurt her.
The entire ride to the hospital was spent with him uttering words of promise, of praise, of hope, to her, praying that those words were giving her something to cling on to, something to fight for.
He needed her to fight for him, because he wasn't certain that he could survive…this. He didn't think that he could survive having saved her, having finally gotten her back, only to lose her all over again. He needed her to fight, to be okay.
But everything felt the exact opposite to that right now. All of it just felt oppressively, painfully wrong, and Tim had no idea how to make it right again.
He might have gotten Lucy back, she might have gotten herself to safety, had protected herself and the civilians in the diner, but at what cost? Her sanity, her innocence, her light? Tim felt sick just thinking about it.
The ambulance juddered to a stop in the ambulance bay, a gentle hand on his shoulder making Tim jump, just as the ambulance doors opened.
"We need to move her, kid." The older of the two paramedics told him gently. At Tim's obvious apprehension about letting her go, the paramedic gave him a small, understanding smile. "I know that you don't want to, but she needs medical help. Her blood pressure is too low, she's likely bleeding internally from the gunshot wound, so she needs to go into surgery. There are trauma surgeons waiting to take over. You'll be able to be with her again soon, okay?"
Tim nodded distantly, finally and reluctantly relinquishing his grasp on Lucy's hand.
As soon as their touch was severed, he felt like he was missing a vital part of himself.
How had he gone this long without knowing what her lips felt like on his own? How had he survived not knowing what it was like to hold her hand, to touch her, knowing that there was so much more to it than just comfort, than just friendship?
Tim's feet moved of their own accord, absentmindedly following the gurney and the paramedics into the hospital, his skin crawling at the feeling of desperation that was settling deep within his veins.
He hadn't even realised what he'd been doing when a hand stopped him from advancing any further, his eyes finally registering his surroundings.
Somehow, he'd followed Lucy and the throng of medical professionals all the way to the set of double doors that would take her into surgery.
His stomach immediately dropped at the sudden realisation that being stopped could only mean one thing: this was as far as he was able to go.
He was now truly separated from Lucy.
"I'm so sorry, sir." The nurse said to him, her voice soft and her tone gentle, full of understanding. "You can't come any further than this, but I promise you that your," the woman paused, "friend is in good hands here, okay? I'll come and update you personally whenever I'm able to."
Tim felt his head bobbing in a nod that he didn't remember allowing his body to give. "Take care of her, please." He asked, closer to a beg than anything else, his voice hoarse and raspy.
The nurse nodded, giving him a sad smile, her eyes filled with pity and sorrow at the mess of a man in front of her, before she disappeared behind the set of swinging double doors, the one place that Tim couldn't go — where Lucy was but he couldn't be, no matter how desperately he wanted to be.
Suddenly, he was alone, left with nothing but his thoughts, his fears, his emotions.
This wasn't like it would be if he was back home. This wasn't a familiar environment like it would be if he was standing in Shaw Memorial. There were no throng of worried colleagues and friends, no doctors and nurses that he'd already become acquainted with over the years.
Hell, he wasn't even entirely sure where Angela had ended up. He can't remember telling her where they were going, what he was doing. He'd just left her there.
If he'd had the presence of mind to do anything but stare down his worst nightmare, he'd feel a little bit guilty at leaving his best friend to fend for herself.
A gentle tap on the shoulder had him spinning around abruptly, his centre of gravity shifting, sending him almost toppling to the ground.
He managed to regain some semblance of composure, though, and was met with another nurse, this time an older lady, her eyes kind.
"Are you okay, sweetheart? You've been standing there just staring at those doors for a little while now."
Tim glanced back at the doors again, swallowing around the lump that had formed in his throat before giving an almost noncommittal shrug. "I, uh," he paused, desperately trying to tamp down on the overwhelming urge to cry, to break. He couldn't afford to break right now — he had to be strong. If not for himself, then for Lucy. "I don't know." He finally answered.
The nurse made a soft, sympathetic noise. "Why don't we sit you down? You look like a strong breeze could knock you over." She grasped Tim's arm, gently leading him over to the surgical waiting area before he could fully acquiesce.
Once he had successfully planted himself in one of the wildly uncomfortable chairs that did his back absolutely no favours, the nurse started again.
"Is there anything that I can get you?" She took place in the seat beside him, her hand resting on his anxiously shaking leg. "Is there anyone that I can call..." She trailed off, unsure what to call him.
"Tim." He supplied, voice rough and ragged. "My name's Tim."
The nurse gave the man in question another smile. "I'm Ruth. I'm going to assume that it was your girlfriend that was just taken into surgery. The GSW?"
He didn't have the time to dispute the girlfriend claim before Ruth was repeating her previous question.
"Is there anyone that I can call for you?"
Tim opened his mouth to reply but was halted by the sound of heavy footfall followed by the calling out of his name.
Angela. She was here. Thank God.
If anyone could help hold him together while he waited for updates on Lucy and her condition, it was his best friend.
"Tim!" She exclaimed, rushing over to him and wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug comforting hug. "Is she okay?"
He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, willing the tears not to fall. "I don't know. They took her into surgery, said that they thought she was probably bleeding internally because of the location of the bullet and how low her blood pressure was."
He stopped talking, and Angela didn't try to fill the silence, clearly sensing that her best friend of ten years wasn't quite done yet. She knew how to read him, and she knew when he was holding something back.
"I'm scared, Ange." He admitted, almost a little bit sheepishly. "I don't know what I'll do if she— if she doesn't pull through."
Angela shook her head, tightening her hold on Tim's hand. "You can't think like that, Tim. It's Lucy, you know that she's a fighter. If anyone can come back from this, it's her.”
Maybe that was the problem, honestly. It is Lucy, and he’s never coped well when she’s in serious danger. And this…this was a type of danger that he couldn’t protect her from — in fact, it was worse than that. It was a danger that he’d tried to protect her from, and had failed.
Now he was waiting to find out if he’d failed her for the last time, or if he’d get to redeem himself. If he’d get to keep protecting her for as long as she’d let him.
Somehow, that made this all the harder than it would've been if she’d just been hurt — than it had been when she’d been hurt after the explosion what felt like years ago now.
Angela’s hand tightened around his again, as she tried to remind him. “She's been through so much worse than this."
He shook his head solemnly, his throat thick. "Has she, though? Been through worse. I mean, Caleb was evil, and he was unexpected, but this was someone she knew. This was someone that she grew up with, someone that she once cared so deeply for, and then she found herself taken again. She was held captive and tortured for days, and then she got shot right before she killed someone for the first time in her career — in her life. And you say that she's been through worse?"
Tim's eyes moved from his lap up to Angela's face, and she felt a breath catch in her throat at the sheer depth of emotion within his gaze. There was so much pain, so much regret, so much guilt. She’d never seen him like this before — not with Isabel, not even when Lucy had been taken by Caleb.
This was a whole new level, a new depth, of emotion from her best friend, and that scared her.
What would become of Tim if he lost Lucy? She could only pray that this wasn't something they’d have to find out, at least not right now.
"She's never gotten shot before, Angela." He whispered, his words barely audible.
She cooed a little, in the same way that she would when she tried to soothe Jack when he's upset. "I know, Tim, and I would've much preferred that she never knew what it was like either, but it's too late now. It's happened. She's alive. They're going to patch her up and then you'll be able to be with her again." She said, hoping. Lucy just had to fight to survive, to come back from this.
Angela prayed that was what she was doing right now in that operating room.
Tim sniffled. "I hope so. I really, really hope so." He went quiet again for a moment. "I can't help but feel like this is all my fault."
"Oh, Tim, no." Angela admonished, though there was no bite in her words. "You couldn't have done anything. You couldn't have changed anything.”
"I could've not gone out. I could've insisted that she come out with me. I could've stopped him. I could've protected her better." He shook his head forlornly. "I keep failing her. I promised myself, when all of this started, that I would never let anything like Caleb happen to her again, but it still did. No matter how hard I tried to keep her safe, he still got to her. I failed. I failed her."
Angela sighed, shifting in her seat so that she was able to eye her best friend almost critically. "You couldn't have done anything." She repeated, slower this time as if the difference in speed would make him understand, would make him believe.
He opened his mouth to object again, but Angela continued before he could say anything.
"You did everything within your power to keep her safe, Tim." She assured him. "I firmly believe that Ethan would've still found a way to get to Lucy whether you were with her or not. You were always seen as nothing more than an obstacle to him getting his hands on her — who knows what would've happened if you'd have been there. He could've hurt you, killed you, in order to get to her. We know now that that's something he was more than capable of after what he did to Carver and McKenzie. You did everything that you could."
Tim sighed, roughly scrubbing his hands over his face. "Why is it always her? Why do the worst things always happen to the best people?" He asked aloud, not entirely expecting an answer, simply just speaking the words, the heavy weighted question, into the ether.
Angela squeezed his hand a little tighter once again. "I don't know, Tim. I wish I did, but I don't."
"She's one of the best people I've ever met, Ange. She's kind, insightful, brilliant in every sense of the word. She's funny, sarcastic. She's not afraid to put me in my place when I'm in the wrong or when I'm being a complete asshole. Why is it always her? First Caleb, then Jackson, now this. How is any of this fair?"
"Life isn't fair." Angela replied, her voice full of sadness. "All you can do is hope that you can get through it all, that you'll be able to see the other side. And she will."
Tim nodded. "Yeah, she will. Because I'll be there every step of the way this time."
She shot him a smile. "You're a good man, Timothy Bradford. Far more than you'll ever give yourself credit for."
He shrugged. "She deserves someone good in her life and while I might not ever see myself as truly good, I'll do whatever I have to do to be good enough for her."
It hit her then like a tonne of bricks, a puzzle piece sliding into place as the gravity of Tim's feelings, his true feelings, for Lucy suddenly dawned on her.
Suddenly, she felt like she'd been blind for the last several months, because how had she not seen this before?
"You're in love with her." Angela surmised, her voice only a hairsbreadth away from being a whisper.
He could only bring himself to nod, words failing him.
"How long?"
Tim shrugged. "I don't know. I think I started falling for her the moment that I met her, and I think I knew that there was something…something more after Caleb, but I wouldn't let those feelings come to light. I couldn't let those feelings come to light. She was my rookie, someone that I was training to survive the streets on her own. But now..."
"Now, she's so much more." She finished for him. "You don't get to waste any more time, Tim. This is your second chance. You love her, so tell her. Show her with your actions and your words. She's going to need that. She's going to need you."
Tim's only response was slumping further down into the chair, his head pillowing on Angela's shoulder, finally allowing his eyes to close for the first time in days.
Seconds turned to minutes and minutes turned to hours, stretching on for what felt like an eternity, before a doctor, donning dark blue scrubs, walked out of the double doors.
"Family of Lucy Chen?"