a/n: This was going to stay a oneshot, but then I watched 3x1.
Tim has seen buddies struggle after deployment.
He's keenly aware of just how hard trauma can hit anyone, and he knows how difficult it is to recover enough to return to a relatively normal life.
Lucy didn't get hit by an IED, but then again, none of his military buddies got buried alive by a serial killer.
Talking to Rosalind Dyer is a necessary evil. It makes his skin crawl. He doesn't know how Nolan could have done this voluntarily. Tim briefly considered ordering Lucy to stay outside, but she doesn't seem ready to stand down, and he's not going to push her.
He steeled himself before they even reached her block, and he knows Lucy has done the same. They're not stupid. They know her game. They know she's going to mess with their minds, and she's certainly aware that Lucy was the one who ended up in that barrel.
And at first, it's okay. Lucy's response to Rosalind's initial prodding is flat. Good. Tim lets himself relax just a fraction of a percent of an inch, which, in retrospect, he should have known was a mistake.
Then Rosalind starts singing.
That's what gets him.
It takes him right back to that moment in evidence, when he pressed play and watched Lucy slowly dying until a wave of nausea swept over him so strongly that he ended up in the locker room, throwing up until his stomach was empty. He's never, ever felt anger like that before. He didn't want to think he could.
He wants to hurt Rosalind Dyer. He wants to rip apart the bars with his bare hands and hurt her. But this is not the time, and that's not his job. Lucy's frozen. Rosalind is in control. He needs to end this.
A threat to leave gets her to open up. Just a little, but it's enough. But he still can't get out of there fast enough.
Lucy keeps it together.
The moment they step outside into the fresh air, though, he sees the change in her posture. She almost deflates in front of him, her shoulders dropping a fraction of an inch. Her eyelashes flutter rapidly, her chest moving with short, hitching breaths.
She makes no move to open the door, just stands there outside the shop, and he realizes: she's losing the battle not to cry, but she doesn't want to cry on dashcam.
He touches her shoulder. Very careful, very gentle, just an anchor point so she knows he's there. "Lucy?"
"I just–" She has to pause and catch her breath. She doesn't look up, but he can see the tears glimmering on her lashes. "I need–"
Her voice cracks, and Tim can't stop himself.
"Come here."
She turns into him readily, no hesitation, and he wraps his arms around her. He can feel her shaking, and it just churns the combination of fear and rage and unbearable darkness that he feels clinging to his own chest. She lets out a shuddering breath, and even through the layers of uniform and vest, he can feel her warmth, the strength of her clinging to him.
He wishes, so very badly, that he could undo this. He wishes he could take that horrifying memory away from her, erase it, somehow stop it from ever having happened. But no matter how tightly he holds her, it's too late. It's after the fact. He pulled her out of the barrel, breathed life into her lungs, held her close, but all he can be is a safe place to cry.
Fierce protector, that monster called him. Yeah. Maybe she's right. But the joke's on her, because if Rosalind ever escapes, if she even so much as thinks about finishing what Caleb started, Tim will kill her. He failed once, pushing Lucy straight towards a threat; he'll be damned if he watches the same monster come for her again.
He feels her shift in his arms. He lets her go and Lucy takes a step back, brushing a few stray tears from her eyes a little self-consciously.
"Hugging on duty?" she manages, letting out a short laugh. "Officer Bradford, I'm shocked."
He shrugs, hoping it looks more casual than he feels right now. "Extenuating circumstances."
That gets a watery smile out of her. He takes it as a victory.
She wipes her eyes one last time and takes a deep breath, squaring her shoulders before she looks up at him. "I'm okay."
"Good." He nods. "Let's go."