The banging on her door jolts Lucy awake and upright in her bed in a burst of sheer panic. She fumbles blindly for her phone, stopping herself from next reaching for her gun as she takes note of the time, 2:48 PM, and too many missed notifications for her brain to properly process at the moment. The past week spent working nights has turned her schedule on its head and she struggles to find her bearings as the banging continues. It's the clear tension she hears in the familiar voice through the door that finally propels her to her feet and on a trajectory toward the door, "Lucy. Get up! I need to talk to you."
Still bleary-eyed, she pulls open the door just as an obviously agitated Tim is raising his fist to bang again.
His eyes widen just slightly as he takes her in, though he skillfully schools any sort of reaction to her appearance off of his face so that it's gone almost as quickly as it appears.
But even the slight reaction is enough for Lucy to become acutely aware of what she must look like. Hair wild and expression dazed with sleep, she'd traded her usual t-shirt in for a cropped cami and shorts she'd hoped would make sleeping through the stifling afternoon heat of the blistering LA summer slightly less miserable. She finds herself suddenly wishing she had stuck with her t-shirt as she feels the goosebumps cropping up on her arms in response to the blasting AC in the apartment now that she's no longer buried in the cocoon of her bed. She shifts slightly, pushing the rogue strap of her cami back onto her shoulder before self consciously crossing her arms over her chest as she tries to sort out exactly why Tim Bradford is standing at her door.
To Tim's credit, if he's uncomfortable with her state of undress, he doesn't let on, ever the consummate professional, "Jesus, Chen. You sleep like the dead."
"Uh. yeah. Sorry, I was asleep," she mumbles, her brain still too fogged with sleep and mortification to realize her response is completely redundant.
Tim carefully keeps his eyes locked on hers, serious expression softening slightly at her obvious confusion, "I'm sorry I woke you up, but we need to talk, and it can't wait. Why don't you take a minute to… erm… wake up?" He gestures somewhat awkwardly toward her room, finally betraying that he's maybe not so unaffected by being exposed to so much of his former Boot.
Lucy nods, grateful for the out, and Tim lets himself into her apartment, closing the door behind him as she moves toward her room. And that's when it hits her. Tim Bradford wouldn't be banging on her door to wake her up with that look of concern on his face unless something was very wrong. Fully awake now, Lucy forces herself to take a deep breath, trying to ignore the feeling of dread in her stomach. In her bathroom, she quickly yanks on her robe, opting against taking the time to get fully dressed and splashes water on her face, her concern of looking like a hot, sleepy mess from just moments before fully forgotten as she hurries back out to Tim, who is leaning back against the kitchen island.
"What's wrong? What happened?" she asks immediately, unable to stop her mind from running through the many horrific possibilities of why Tim is standing here in the middle of her apartment out of the blue with that expression on his face.
"Let's sit," he says gently, nodding toward the couch.
Lucy feels a sudden urge to scream at him to just tell her what's going on, but instead, she repeats her question, the sinking feeling in her stomach is almost unbearable now, panic beginning to rise in her chest. "T-tim, what is it?" her voice shakes, her fear latching on to her vocal cords.
Is it Jackson - did something happen to him on his flight to his family vacation in Fiji? Did something happen to Nolan on shift? Is it Lopez; is the baby okay? Is it Harper? Grey? My parents?
"Let's sit," he repeats, this time some of the familiar firmness returning to his tone, indicating it's not up for negotiation. Oddly, it almost puts her more at ease, so much so that she doesn't resist when he uses his hand to gently guide her to the couch. She'd have to be dead not to notice the warmth of his fingers at the small of her back through the thin silky fabric of her robe, but the electricity of the contact is dulled to a barely noticeable buzz, almost completely lost in the cloud of her panic.
She drops onto the couch, folding her feet up under her and facing toward him as he drops down next to her.
"Lucy," he starts, and his voice is soft. Too soft. Too soft for her Tim Bradford.
"Tim," she says again, her voice pleading now, "Please, you're scaring me."
The sadness that floods his expression feels like an iron fist clenching over her heart, "It's Tamara. I'm so sorry Lucy. She was shot early this morning; someone found her a few hours ago and I responded to the call."
She stares at him in disbelief, sure there must be some mistake, that she must not be hearing him correctly. "No. No - you're wrong. I saw her yesterday. We had take-out at her new place. She's just getting settled in." She shakes her head vigorously in denial. "Is she- is she…?"
His expression is pained as his hand closes over hers, the warmth of his touch surprisingly comforting through the veil of her shock. "She's in the hospital, Lucy, but -"
Lucy feels relief flood through her, and starts to her feet, but is surprised when Tim tugs her back down, "Lucy, wait. It's- it was pretty bad. I know you want to see her, but she's not being allowed visitors right now. There's another officer there - he's going to let me know the second you can see her, and I'll take you there myself. I just thought that - maybe, while we're waiting, you might want to talk to the detectives that are working her case. You might know something that could be helpful to catch whoever did this to her."
Lucy nods slowly, still too stunned by the news that Tamara has been shot and is in the hospital to fully comprehend the fact that somebody is actually responsible for this, that somebody intentionally tried to hurt or even kill her.
She shakes her head again, "She's so excited about her new place. And applying for scholarships. Everything was turning around for her. This just doesn't make any sense. Why would somebody do this to her? She's just a kid." The emotion welling in her throat stops her from being able to get any more words out, as her body responds to the news that her mind is still struggling to accept.
She stares at Tim, knowing he won't sugarcoat it if she asks directly, that he will tell her the truth, "Is she going to be okay, Tim?"
He looks back at her sadly, "I don't know, Lucy. When I saw her this morning, I -," he rubs a hand over his face as his voice falters. "It was bad, but she is really tough, Lucy. If anyone can pull through this, it's her."
Tim's phone chimes and he glances at it briefly before turning his attention back to Lucy, "Jackson's been trying to get a hold of you. He's still in Fiji with his family, but he's trying to get on a flight back as soon as possible."
Lucy briefly recalls the many missed notifications on her phone as she frowns, "He must've just gotten there."
Tim nods wordlessly, "He landed a few hours ago, but you know we all care about Tamara. And he also wants to be here for you. But you know," he pauses briefly, as if debating his next words, "We are all here for you, Lucy. And for Tamara. We're going to get through this."
Something in the way he's squeezing her hand again as he says it, the way he's looking into her eyes as he reassures her - it's enough for her to know that even though he might be saying 'we', what he means is that he is going to be there for her. The rush of warmth she feels toward him helps to dull the coldness of the shock that is still blanketing her.
She gives him a watery smile as she moves to get to her feet, wanting to get to the privacy of her room before the warmth that is continuing to build behind her eyes completely spills over. "Can you just tell Jackson that I'm okay? And that I'll call him tonight with an update. And that he should stay put - at least until we know more about Tamara's status?"
Tim nods, "I will. You still want to stop by the station before we head to the hospital?"
Lucy nods vigorously as she makes her way to her room, feeling suddenly very motivated to speak to the detectives working the case, as the reality that whoever shot Tamara in cold blood and left her to die is still out there settles into her mind, filling her with an icy determination. She isn't a doctor - there isn't much she can do for Tamara waiting idly by for an update in the hospital. But she is a cop, and a damn good one at that, and she is going to do everything in her power to bring whoever intentionally hurt Tamara, intentionally hurt her family, to justice.