Tim Bradford sat across from his commanding officer, Sergeant Grey. The older man had an open file folder on his desk. Contained in that folder were documents pertaining to Tim's health, both physical and mental. At the thought of what those documents might say, Tim shifted in his seat. Although it wasn't hurting him in that particular moment him, Tim swore he could feel the bullet that was still inside of him pressing against his muscles. He knew it was probably all in his head. It had been weeks since he had been shot. Weeks since the doctors had decided that taking the bullet out would do more harm than good. But the bullet felt harmful to Tim. It felt like that bullet would be a constant reminder of how he had failed.

"The doctor signed off," Tim stated, breaking the silence between him and Grey.

"I read his report," Grey responded, closing the folder.

"So, can I come back to work?"

Grey looked Tim in the eyes. "The therapist didn't sign off."

"Come on, that guy is a quack. I'm fine."

"You were shot," Grey said very matter of factly. "Your rookie was killed."

There was that word. Killed. Dead. Deceased. Murdered. No matter how you said it, the words meant the same thing. Someone that Tim was responsible for had lost their life on his watch.

"I did all of the recommended physical therapy and sessions with the therapist," Tim continued, ignoring Grey's last comment. He didn't want to think about his rookie. "I'm fine."

"I think you need more time," Grey said.

"Sir…"

"You also haven't taken a vacation since you started at Mid-Wilshire. That was many years ago."

"I don't believe in vacations," Tim said. He knew it sounded dumb, but he believed in what he was saying. He had no reason to take a vacation. Work was his life. He wanted to work. He needed to work.

"Six months," Grey said.

"Six months, what?"

"You're on leave for six months."

"What?"

"Take the time to process what happened," Grey said. "Take time to heal."

"I am healed! Sir, I'm fine."

"Take a vacation. Get out of LA for a while."

"I don't want to get out of LA," Tim protested. "I want to get back to work!"

Grey sighed. "You know I'm on your side."

"Are you? Because it sure as hell feels like you're in cahoots with that quack therapist!"

"Tim, you've been through a lot these last few years. What happened between you and Isabelle. Your last rookie washing out. This one being gunned down, which you know wasn't your fault. Getting shot yourself. Take the time, Tim. Get your head on straight."

"Do I have a choice?"

Grey shook his head. "No. If you choose not to comply to the six months of leave, you'll be terminated from the LAPD."

Tim stood up. "Well, just know that you'll have one less person to keep the streets of LA safe for these next six months."

Without letting Grey respond, Tim walked out the door, letting it slam behind him. Angela, perhaps his best friend in the department, jogged to catch up to him as he sped walk through the building.

"What happened?" She asked, keeping pace with him.

"Six month leave."

"What? Grey put you on a six month leave?"

"He said I need to get my head on straight."

"Are you going to fight it?"

Tim shook his head and sighed. He knew he had rights. He could go to his union rep and make a claim against the department, but that wasn't his style. And perhaps, deep down inside, Tim knew Grey was right.

"No," Tim answered simply.

"What are you going to do?" Angela asked.

He turned to look at her right as he reached the door. "I don't know."

Tim pushed open the door and made his way to his truck. When he got behind the wheel he stared out at the familiar building. Mid-Wilshire was more of a home to him than his own home had been. The thought of not being able to work for six months was unbearable. What the hell was he going to do with himself? Besides watching sports he really had no hobbies. And aside from his colleagues at work, he had no real friends or family either in LA.

Tim slammed his fist down on the dashboard. He probably would have slammed his fist again when his phone began to buzz. He looked at the caller ID. It was his sister. He thought about not answering. He thought about going home and drowning himself in beer. Then he remembered that he had no beer because he had drunk it all a few nights before. Actually there had been many nights when he had consumed beer in excess since he had been shot.

"Hey Genny," Tim said, deciding to answer the phone.

"How did the meeting with your sergeant go?" Genny asked.

Tim sighed. "Not great. He put me on six months leave."

"I'm sorry. I know that's not what you wanted." There was a pause. "But I think this will be a good thing for you."

Leave it to his sister to agree with the quack therapist.

"I need to work, Genny."

"There's more to life than work," Genny said. Tim didn't reply. "Look, why don't you come visit?"

"Visit?"

"Yes, visit. You know, that thing family does every once in a while. It's been over a year since we've seen you. I know Tyler would love for you to come. And I could use the company after the divorce. Our apartment isn't much, but our couch is comfortable and the weather is beautiful in New England in the spring…"

"The weather is beautiful all the time in LA," Tim countered.

"Just come. What else do you have to do?"

Tim had to admit she was right. He didn't have anything else to do.

"I'll think about it."

On the other side of the country, 2500 miles away, Lucy Chen crammed one last moving box into the back of her brand new CRV. It was double parked on a busy New York city street. The sounds of the city surrounded her. Lucy wondered if she would miss those sounds.

She slammed the hatchback closed, knowing full well that when she opened it again, more than likely something would fall right out. The car was jam packed with her belongings.

"You don't have to do this, you know," Chris said from the steps of their apartment building.

"I do," Lucy responded. She gestured between the two of them. "But we don't have to do this again."

"You're the one leaving," Chris pointed out.

"I'm not taking the bait, Chris. We've been over this time and time again. We want different things. And if we're both being honest, this relationship hasn't really worked for years. We stayed because it was easy. But I think we both deserve more."

"I love you, you know."

"I know."

"But you can't say it back, can you?" Chris countered.

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

"Alex will miss me."

"He can't miss someone who was barely around. And I don't think you'll miss him." Lucy sighed. She did not want to have the same argument with Chris again. "Goodbye, Chris. I wish you well, I really do."

"Just remember what you're walking away from," Chris retorted.

"Bye," Lucy said simply before getting in the car. She pulled out carefully and didn't look back. Although she had been living in the city for the past five years and could navigate it easily by foot and by subway, driving was a whole other story. Lucy hadn't driven a car in years and she had to concentrate on the busy city streets. It took her nearly twenty minutes to go just two miles down the street to the school. She got into the car pickup line just as the bell rang. In New York City very few public school children got picked up in cars so there were only a few cars ahead of her. Lucy spotted Alex right away and with a wave to his teacher, Alex trotted over to the car. He opened the back door.

"Wow, nice car!" Alex exclaimed.

"You like it?"

"Yeah! Is it ours?"

"It is as of nine o'clock this morning."

"What's this?" Alex asked, pointing to a booster seat that was taking up the only available space for him to sit. The rest of the backseat was covered in boxes.

"It's a booster seat."

"I'm not a baby!"

"It's not for babies."

"Then who is it for?"

"For kids who aren't quite big enough or old enough to safely sit in a car without one. Now get in. I want to start driving before traffic gets too bad."

"Do I have to sit in it?"

"It's the law, bud. All kids under eight have to sit in some type of special seat."

"I'm almost eight!" Alex insisted.

"You just turned seven last month."

"Why can't we take the subway?"

"Because the subway doesn't go all the way to where we're going. And we have too much stuff with us. Now climb in."

"Fine."

Alex climbed onto the seat. Lucy reached back and helped him with the seatbelt. When they were both safely buckled, she started driving. As Alex rambled on about his day at school, Lucy concentrated on driving safely through the city. Once they were out of the city, Lucy started to relax a little. They only had about two more hours to go before they reached their destination.

"Mom?" Alex asked from the backseat.

"Yeah, bud?"

"I'm going to miss my friends."

"I know, sweetheart. But we're not that far away. We can still see them sometimes. And I just know you're going to make lots of new friends at the new house."

"Can I play baseball?" Alex asked.

"Of course. We'll find you a Little League team right away."

"Mom?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm glad it's just me and you."

Lucy smiled. "Me, too, bud. Me too. Hey, you want to listen to some music?"

"Yeah."

"Hamilton?"

"Yes!"

Lucy laughed at his excitement. She pressed a few buttons on the screen of the car that was connected to her phone and Lin Manuel Miranda's voice began to come through the speakers. As they both sang along, she smiled.

Just over two hours later, during their second time singing Aaron Burr, Sir Lucy pulled the car down a long driveway she hadn't seen since she was Alex's age. As they approached the house, she smiled. It looked the same. Well, it looked older than Lucy remembered, but mostly the same.

"Is this our new house?" Alex asked.

"It is. Wanna check it out?"

"Yes!"

Lucy turned off the car and they both got out. Taking Alex's hand, they walked closer. The house was huge and also oddly decorated. One quarter of the house was painted a bright pink while there was another section that was blue and one side was green. It looked like a toddler had picked out the colors. From what Lucy remembered, she knew there were four bedrooms and two bathrooms on the top floor as well as a laundry room and a walk-in closet that was bigger than Lucy and Chris's entire New York apartment. The main floor had two additional bathrooms, a huge kitchen, a formal dining room, a living room, a parlor (that Lucy was never allowed to sit in as a kid), an office, and beautiful french doors that led out to a backyard garden oasis complete with a pergola and built in firepit. Further on in the backyard was even a small guest house with its own mini kitchen and bathroom. Lucy remembered playing in it like it was a fort when she was little.

When they reached the front, wooden steps that led up to a wrap around porch, Lucy noticed the bottom step had a massive hole in it.

"Be careful," Lucy warned Alex. "Honey, this play is old and it's been empty for a little while. We need to make sure we're paying attention and being cautious, ok? No running around or playing until we get a good look at it."

"Ok," Alex agreed. "Will I get my own bedroom?"

Lucy smiled. "You will."

"Yes!"

After carefully ascending the steps, Lucy took the key out of her pocket that had been mailed to her and slipped it into the lock. The door creaked open. The air inside the house was stale, but nothing that couldn't be dealt with by opening a few windows. It was still furnished with a modge podge of antiques, colorful pieces, and old furniture that had seen better days. As Lucy and Alex walked down the main hallway, exploring, Lucy could see there were plenty of places where wallpaper was peeling, floorboards creaked more than they should, and there was a pretty thick layer of dust on everything.

Alex sneezed. "It's dirty in here," he said, scrunching up his nose.

"I know," Lucy said, wondering if she should have made the drive by herself and gotten the place cleaned up a bit before bringing Alex there. But that would have meant leaving Alex with Chris and she wasn't comfortable with that.

"We'll clean it up," Lucy said cheerfully.

"Can we go see my room now?"

"Of course! You'll have three rooms to choose from."

"Really?"

"Yup. Mommy gets the biggest room, but…"

"Wait, how come you get the biggest room?" Alex pouted.

"Because I'm the grownup."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Fine, but I get the second biggest."

"Deal."

Several hours later, Lucy was sitting up in the bed of the master bedroom. Alex was asleep next to her. A half eaten pizza was in a box on a little table next to the bed. The entire house needed such a good cleaning that Lucy decided for night one, they would clean just one room well enough to be comfortable to sleep in. Lucy had vacuumed the mattress to get all of the dust off of it and fitted it with the sheets they had brought from New York. She dusted the surfaces in the room and vacuumed the floors. Not wanting to use the kitchen until she could give it a real cleaning, they had ordered pizza. Alex had fallen asleep almost immediately after eating. Lucy didn't have the heart to wake him up and order him to brush his teeth so she let him sleep. Lucy was wide awake, though, scrolling through her phone. She was determined to find her son a baseball team to play on sooner rather than later. Baseball was the one thing he loved more than anything else and she promised that the move wasn't going to take that away from him. She was going to do right by her son.