2 Weeks Later

Tim thought his mood would've improved since seeing Marcella again, but in fact, it was exactly the same. Sleep was still almost non-existent, he was still barely eating – bar a few bowls of cereal and slices of toast – and his liver was still taking a pretty unhealthy battering with the alcohol he was consuming. His hair was unkempt, the unshaven stubble along the bottom part of his face hadn't been removed in almost three weeks and it was growing more by the day; but he had no energy or motivation to do anything about it.

Every time he closed his eyes to even attempt to sleep, he saw her, walking away. In the last three weeks he's probably only managed a few days worth of sleep; he was tired but the beers seemed to mask the full affects of his exhaustion.

He wanted to kick himself for letting her go, again, he thought he was so close to getting her to stay and now, he may not see her for ages, if at all. He understood it was for her career; it's beneficial for police officers to undertake some kind of undercover work at some point, but it was difficult for him knowing that she was out there alone like that. God knows what sort of case she was involved in and Tim knew that undercover work could be a dangerous job.

Tim's reached for his mobile on the table, and scrolled through his contacts. He knew that trying to phone Marcella was a futile act but he tried anyway; unsurprisingly to him there was no answer, there wasn't even a voicemail greeting from her any more. When scrolling through the contacts again, he realised he still had Laura Porter's number, the former DCI of Marcella's team, so he called her instead, "Hello?" a voice on the other end of the phone said.

Tim cleared his throat – trying to return his voice to a normal state – before he replied, "Hi, Laura. It's Tim, Williamson. I know you probably can't discuss any of this but I want to check if Marcella's doing okay."

"Marcella?" she asked, the confusion evident in her tone.

Tim frowned to himself, "Yeah, she said you wanted her to go undercover." she informed him. Even Laura sounded as baffled as he was.

"We did, she never accepted or turned up to see me so someone else went in her place."

"You mean she's not gone undercover?"

"No, sorry."

He rubbed his hand over his face in a tiredly frustration and sighed, "Okay. Thank you." he immediately hung up and lobbed it onto the soft surface of the settee he was sat on.

Tim was confused. If she wasn't undercover, then where the hell was she? He rushed upstairs, found some clean clothes and forced himself to have a quick shower. Being in no state to drive, he lived too far away to get to Marcella's house quick enough by walking so he called himself a cab.

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The taxi pulls up outside Marcella's house, Tim had no idea if she even still owned the house and he handed money to the driver, "Cheers, mate." he said as he stepped out of the vehicle.

It had been a while since he had been anywhere near her house but he hoped she would've at least gone back there for some decent sleep. He took a deep breath and bashed the knocker attached to her door and waited, but there was no answer.

Crouching down he opened the letterbox and looked through, "Marcella?" He looked down to the floor through through the opening and the piles of letters suggested that she still hadn't been home at all. "Marcella? Are you in there?"

Tim realised she wasn't home, nor had she been and he didn't know what to do. There was a part of him that thought undercover work would've been better for his peace of mind, at least he knew that she would be somewhat looked after by the police. But with her being off alone, probably back sleeping rough, he just needed to find her again, and this time, he wasn't going to let her go.

He went back to his flat and looked through some of the pictures on his laptop, printing one off of Marcella and just stared at it. The picture reminded him of the old times, Marcella with the smile that he missed so much and it made him realise how much he had lost, and how much he'd do anything to get her back. Walking over to his sofa with it still in his hands, he sat down and used his finger to glide it down her face in the picture, "I'm sorry, Marcella." he whispered to himself before breaking down in tears again, which is something he seemed to do a lot over the past month.

When night began to fall, he drunk more beers before heading out again; he had to find Marcella. Taking the photo with him, he took the opportunity to show it to every person he saw, concentrating more on the homeless people who lined the streets. He had got through quite a few of them before he reached the bridge he found her under last time.

As he walked through, a figure, wearing Marcella's coat sat looking away from him and he made his way over to them, "Marcella?" he called as he turned them around but it wasn't her. "Sorry." he said as he backed away, "Actually, hold on, where did you get that coat?"

Tim crouched down next to the woman. Dirt covered her face and hands, caking through her fingernails, grease lined her dirty hair, and she was rather skinny due to lack of food; Tim deduced she had probably been in this situation for a while. He took out his wallet and took out some money.

"Look, here..." Tim said, handing over a £10 note. He held up the picture of Marcella, "Was it her? Did she give the coat to you?" he began getting frustrated and he knew he was starting to scare the woman so he softened his voice, "Listen, okay, she's my friend, she means a lot to me, so please, do you know where she is?"

"She – she was here a few nights ago. I haven't seen her since." her shaky voice informs him. "But you could try down about three streets away, a load of us sleep down there."

"Thank you." Tim replied, giving her another £10 for her help. He rubbed her upper arm in a friendly manner and stood up, making his way to the location the woman directed him to.

As soon as he began walking down the road, he counted at least 14 people all trying to sleep. A couple were elderly, some were not much different from his own age, some were even young adults and at least 3 of the people had a baby or young child in their arms. It made him sad to see all these people sat on the damp floor in the cold without a home or shelter to go to, and to know that somewhere, one of them was likely to be Marcella made him feel even worse.

He showed the picture to every one on the street and they all shook their head, and a few reiterated to him that she was sleeping here the last couple of nights. Tim stood, looking around at everyone, before sitting on the floor and leaning his back on the wall. Holding the photo out in front of him, he fixated on her smile again, and that's when he decided; he wasn't returning home without her and he was prepared to sleep under this bridge or on any street until he found her.

Tim had to make himself look more like a homeless person if he was going to start getting them to open up to him and help him. He took off his watch, ruffled his hair and purposely dirtied and ripped up his jogging bottoms and t-shirt. He took off his coat and used it to cover himself like a blanket and tried to sleep, but seeing as he barely got any at home, he didn't hold out much hope of getting any elsewhere.

Every time he heard someone make any movement down the street, he jerked up, checking on who it was, hoping it was her. She could be on the other side of London by now but he thought she might come somewhere a little more familiar. It was approaching 4am and Marcella hadn't made a return under the bridge that she had been the past few nights so Tim stood up and walked towards another street.

He began to feel exhausted, the lack of sleep he was getting was starting to catch up with him and he started to feel as if he was close to collapsing in a heap onto the ground, but no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't even sleep without Marcella by his side, or at least knowing she was safe.

Tim wandered the streets as the sun rose and the sky brightened. He still refused to return home and he knew that the shelters were best to be checked in the morning as a lot of them gathered for some kind of breakfast so he made his way to the nearest one to him, and prayed that Marcella didn't stray that far away from the area.

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As he walked through the door, he caught the sight of himself in the glass. He knew he looked terrible; he saw his growing hair sticking out from all directions, his facial hair was becoming the longest he's ever grown it with it greying in places and the dark circles under his eyes were becoming even darker than they were. This wasn't the man he thought he'd end up being.

Tim looked around at the people gathered for breakfast, and had to blend in. He hadn't been out much during the day since all of this happened and everything he was trying to hide was now being seen by everyone. Putting the hood of his hoodie back up, he placed some cereal in a bowl before pouring in some milk and sitting at one of the tables. Opposite him was a man of similar age to him and they gave each other a friendly smile. Tim wasn't in an eating mood, and he hadn't been for the last few weeks and instead starting poking aimlessly at the flakes floating in the milk with his spoon.

Taking out the picture he looked at it before sliding it over to the man opposite him, "Have you see this woman here at all?" he asked, "She's a friend of mine." Tim smiled at him, and the man took the photo and looked at it.

The man sniffed and wiped his nose and mouth with his sleeve and looked at the photo of Marcella, "Er, yeah, she was here yesterday. I saw her walking towards Clapham Common last night. She looked a bit different, like. But I'm sure it was her." he told him as he ate the rest of the breakfast in front of him, shoving it in like there's no tomorrow. Tim watched him as he ate like he hadn't in weeks. It wasn't the way he was eating, that didn't bother him, it was the fact that the poor guy was eating like it was his first proper meal in some time and that upset Tim; not just because of Marcella, but also just seeing all the people sleeping out at night-time, being on the streets with them, he realised that there were so many people in the same boat.

But he'd be lying if Marcella didn't play a huge part in everything he was feeling and everything that was going on. It had been two weeks since he let her walk away again and it was becoming much harder to find her. Every time Tim started to feel he was getting close to getting her back, she seemed to move elsewhere and he knew that she probably wouldn't be near Clapham Common tonight, but he was willing to try everywhere until he found her.

Being outside in the broad daylight was still far to exposing for him, he hadn't left his flat much at all the past month, and he was only out of it now because he couldn't bear going back to it without finding her. So Tim had to lay low until night fell again as far too many people knew who he was, mainly the police officers who patrolled the streets of London, but he didn't want to be out in the day anyway.

Tim stayed at the shelter until the sun began to set, and it was still quite early in the evening which meant that he could cover a lot of ground if he wanted, which he did. He was about an hour away from Clapham Common where the man back in the shelter told him he saw Marcella go in there last night so he started walking in that direction, and maybe, just maybe, he'll find her.

He showed her picture to every person he passed as he made his way down towards the Common and he couldn't believe that not one of them hadn't seen Marcella at all. Surely she hadn't moved that far away since last night, but nobody had seen her, and those who did pointed him in directions that she was no longer there.

He took his watch from his pocket, and looked at the time; 11:00pm. Walking down the streets that surrounded the Common, he noticed more people sleeping on the streets and walked over to one of them leaning up against a brick walk, Hey, have you seen this woman?" he asked the man as he held up the picture of Marcella.

"I saw her near the Common about 2 hours ago." he croaked. Tim could see the man looked unwell,but he also knew it was likely due to a withdrawal from some kind of drug. He felt like he should give him some money for his help; he felt bad if he didn't but the police officer in him knew that he'd be funding him to take something illegal rather than buying himself food.

"Thanks." Tim said. He couldn't just walk away from him; he'd seen too many people sitting homeless on the streets with so many just walking past and it wasn't in Tim's nature to just ignore the ones that have been helping him find the woman he loves and saving her from all of this. Taking out more money from his wallet, he gave £10 to the man for helping him. "Here, get yourself some food." he encouraged him, knowing it'll probably be spent on something else.

Tim walked down back towards the Common, and searched the entire area. He started to feel as if he could barely walk, like he was going to faint at any minute; he had a headache, he felt dizzy, every inch of his body was aching to the point of being in pure pain and he just wanted to sleep.

Marcella was still nowhere to be seen and despite supposedly being here only two hours ago, she had disappeared again. Tim started to feel as if he was moving one step forwards and two steps back but he still refused to give up finding her. Slumping down onto a bench, he immediately started to feel more of the aching of his muscles and bones and the throbbing in his head felt as if his brain was going to burst through his ears. He could barely keep his eyes open for the first time in a month so he lay down on the bench and closed his eyes with only his hoodie to keep himself warm in the low temperature. And for the first time in a long time, he felt he was actually going to get a decent nights sleep.