Tim had never been more scared in his life. Before this, he was actually having a pretty good morning - he'd gotten up early enough that he could take Kojo out on a walk as the sun came up, had a decent breakfast and some great coffee, heard some songs on the radio that he actually recognized, and he hadn't had to deal with the headache of normal L.A. traffic as he made it to work early, for once. But approximately twenty minutes ago, all that had changed. Everything came crashing down with those words from Nolan, "Lucy did not come home last night. She isn't responding to texts or calls."
He frantically tried to piece it all together. She was going out with that guy from the bar, right? Right. In fact, Tim remembered the guy had made sure to make it known that that was his name. Wright - with a fucking 'W'. His first impression of him had been that he was a pretentious asshole, but apparently Lucy had been charmed by him somehow. So, the question was... exactly how well did their date go?
But then when Jackson and Nolan both confirmed that Lucy did not do one-night stands, it seemed like his mind had been kicked into hyper speed - Why did he target Officer Chen? Who was this guy, Caleb? When did she meet him? Where could he have taken her? And most importantly... how could he have let this happen?
Since Jackson was her roommate and Tim was her training officer, Grey paired them to think of everything that she could have told them about this guy. Anderson helped too as they searched for his online profile and ran his name through every program they could think of, but all they found was what they feared to be true - that Caleb Wright didn't exist. But... that couldn't be right! He saw the page; he watched that stupid video of the god damn puppy!
It was then, his mind cleared of all thoughts. All he could focus on was that feeling as his heart sank, crashing into the horrible aching in his gut. Jackson had found an empty desk and begun the search for any of Caleb's new identities or places he could have taken her, but Tim held back. He saw the supply closet to his left, slipping inside for a second alone to try to get his head on straight. He ran his hands through his short locks in exasperation, trying to calm his breathing.
"C'mon, focus." he muttered to himself, wiping at his eyes with the palms of his hands, surprised to find them wet with tears. 'Oh, crap... No, those are angry tears, not sad. No, never!'
Well, of course he was angry with this whole situation. Angry with Rosalind, because the second he'd heard the news, he just knew that Caleb had to be her newest protege. Angry with Lucy for not trusting her gut and going out with him. Angry that no one at that bar had noticed and stopped this or called the police. But mostly, he was angry with himself... because he had convinced her to go. How could he have been so blind? How could he push her into this mess?
And he'd been trying to convince himself otherwise, but... yes, he was definitely sad. He didn't know what he would do if she was gone. How he could survive the day without her there to try to make him laugh, or at least, get him to smile. He didn't know if he'd ever be able to smile again if she...
"Get it together, Bradford."
What he did know was that he needed to push that sadness down, to that spot deep inside of him where most of his emotions seemed to frequent these days. He needed to focus on that anger, on that rage that would fuel him to find her and bring her home. And the only other thing he knew for sure was that Caleb, or Bryan Coleman, or whoever the hell he was that day would be found... And Tim would make him pay.
"Everyone, in here!" he heard Anderson call out, and wiped again at his face, trying to erase any signs he'd been in there, crying.
However, that small glimmer of hope had been diminished when Grey and Anderson had confirmed what he already knew. But for some reason, hearing the words seemed to make this all the more real, like it wasn't just some sick nightmare he was having. He bolted out of the door, unable to hear any more. He just knew they needed help... and he needed someone to talk to.
"What's up?"
"Hey." he started, "Lucy's been taken. I need you."
And without question, or hesitation, she replied, "On my way."
He knew her fresh eyes on all of this would help. But more importantly, he knew he needed her there, so he didn't have to worry about anyone else. He was relieved to see her walking through the doors with Wesley beside her, because then he could pass this stupid tip line crap off onto him and go vent his frustrations to her.
God, he felt like he was about to explode with the anger pooling, bubbling up inside of him making his blood boil. So, Tim stormed off, knowing she would follow, knowing she would question what had him so bothered. What he didn't expect was the falter in his voice, when he said, "I was the one who told her she should focus on something else." He didn't expect the guilt that ate away at him when he told her, "And I... I pushed her right at him."
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, Nolan calling to tell them that they needed Wesley to talk to any of his clients in the Central California Women's Facility about smuggling contraband. She almost thanked him for the out. Angela wanted to say something to Tim, to try to offer some kind of peace of mind, but... what could she say? She knew no matter the words, there was nothing that could stop him from blaming himself. All she could do now was help him focus on finding her.
As Angela went to go tell Wesley about his new assignment, he turned and wandered down the hall. There was an exit by the loading bay where a few officers would go sneak a cigarette on occasion and he found himself through those doors and sitting on the concrete steps before he realized he was there. A trashcan sat at the bottom, and behind it, he knew there were a book of matches and a community pack stashed, for those who needed it... and by god, did he need one.
As he exhaled that first hit of smoke, he thought back to the last time he'd done this. It was the first time Isabel hadn't come back from an undercover job when she was supposed to. He went out, bought a pack and sat on his living room couch, smoking all of them within a few hours. He remembered the worry he felt then, wondering what had happened. Did she just need a day to rest before driving back? If so, why hadn't she called? Was she cheating on him? And of course, there were the bigger concerns... Did someone blow her cover? Was she dead?
But he knew Lucy couldn't be. What Harper had said earlier was true - she was a fighter, and she was going to do whatever it took to stay alive for as long as she could. He knew she would find a way.
With their luck, it hadn't been long before they got a name - Benjamin Lassie. He was a middleman, running packages to Rosalind for Caleb, and based on the description of the car they were going to start the search for, he was being paid a decent amount of cash to do so. Other than that, he was basically a nobody. But a nobody who had spoken to Caleb, maybe travelled to his new headquarters to pick up a package, or possibly might even know Caleb's real name. Which meant, in that moment, he was the most important person in the world to Tim.
"On it." He said, practically running toward the door.
"Not alone, you're not. West, go with him!" Angela replied.
Tim stopped in his tracks and turned to her with a ferocity in his eyes she had never seen, trying to convince her with the words, "Ang, I don't need a babysitter."
"No, but I need someone with you to make sure you don't do anything stupid." she said, scared that he might, even with Jackson there.
"Which is a babysitter!" he yelled, before realizing it was unproductive and scoffed, "Whatever. I don't have time for this. Let's go!"
He was out of the door before she could blink, turning to Jackson, "I'll send you the link. We're tracking his car now. He's on the move." she said, "And Jackson... please..."
Her voice cracked a bit, but he didn't need her to finish the sentence. He knew what she meant. To make sure to keep Tim safe... from himself, if anything else.
"I will."
When they finally got eyes on the car, Tim went from 30 to 60 in a matter of seconds, swerving through traffic with his focus on only one thing. When the car pulled over and they hopped from their shop, Jackson cringed back as he saw Tim's hand smashing Mr. Lassie's face to the steering wheel. He began with the threats he knew were coming, only catching about half of what Tim said, but he froze, as he definitely heard Officer Bradford say, "I will pull you inside out." Absolutely horrified, because he could tell Tim meant it.
However, they had succeeded... or so they thought. They had a name and an address. It seemed strange that he would still be within the city limits, but he didn't think twice. If they said this was the guy's place, then he was going to tear it apart. But unfortunately, Jerry Havel had just been another identity Caleb had stolen. The second Tim saw this guy's face, when he knew for sure that this was the wrong guy, that ache in his gut grew stronger. He had screwed up again. He blew their last shot.
"So, what do we do, sir?" Jackson asked.
"I'm going to call and let them know this was a bust. You and the rest of the men search for anything that could link this guy to Caleb. At the least, how he stole all this man's information - his computer, phone, even if he has a fucking PlayStation they might chat on - I don't care. Find it."
He headed outside, just needing a moment to breathe. He leaned against the front bumper of the shop and held his head shamefully, almost nauseated with worry that he wouldn't get another chance... that there wouldn't be another crack in the case. That was until Officer West came running toward him with that file, saying he might have a way - charges on Jerry's credit card they knew had to be him. From that, hopefully they could find an I.P. address, maybe even where it was being shipped to. Jackson didn't think he'd ever seen Officer Bradford smile before then, but his face lit up brighter than either of them would ever admit.
When they got back to the station, that's when they'd found out about Anderson being taken as well. But it also hadn't taken them long to find the P.O. box in Kern County that Caleb had still been paying for in Jerry's name or the farm linked to Rosalind's uncle. That was it! She had to be there!
Yet that relief he felt was once again short-lived when he'd arrived at the farm and been informed Caleb was dead. He was the only one who knew where she was and, without him, they'd have almost no chance.
The minutes he spent searching felt like a lifetime. He almost wanted to accept the fact that she was gone and quit, and he hated himself for even thinking it. But it had been way too long. Angela said at the house that she couldn't tell if she was even breathing then, so how could she still be...?
No! He had to keep looking, had to keep moving. For Lucy.
That's when he saw it - her ring caught a beam of light, shining on the ground like a beacon. She'd been wearing it for years and had complained once or twice that it was becoming too tight on her finger now, but she couldn't bring herself to take it off if she wanted to. And he knew it couldn't have simply fell off; she must have torn it from her finger and left it behind for someone to find. So today, it was the most beautiful ring he'd ever seen in his life because it meant that she was close.
He figured that the big stone there had to be a marker of some kind, a way for Caleb to remember exactly where she was, so he began kicking at the dirt nearby, trying to notice if any was loose. When he heard that thud of the metal against his boot, he screamed out for assistance.
"I've got her!"
Clawing desperately at the soil, he did whatever he could, never letting up when other hands and even shovels added to the digging. He tore the lid off, picturing it had been Caleb's head as he did, and it seemed like his whole world went still when he saw what was inside. She wasn't moving, head and shoulders slumped over indicating she wasn't breathing, and when they finally pulled her out of there, he had confirmed just that.
Tilting her head back, he tried urgently to remember his CPR training - breathe twice, thirty chest compressions... one, two, three, four... He wanted to ignore everyone's look of concern as they all feared they were too late, that his attempts were futile. He had almost begun believing it himself until that loud gasp as air refilled her lungs, her body jolting upward just enough that he could wrap his arms around her back and pull her to him, holding her closely as she sobbed.
He wanted to cry, as well, realizing it was finally over. He had done it. But he held himself together, knowing he had to be strong for her right now.
He whispered softly to her, "I've got you, okay? I've got you. You're going to be okay."
Those words almost didn't feel real as he said them. For a moment, he had to convince himself they were true... And they were. They had found her. Lucy was going to be okay.
When the medivac helicopter arrived, they didn't think the EMT's could pry her from him if they tried. She had passed out again from exhaustion before he carried her to the gurney. His hand immediately entwined with hers, convinced he might never leave her side again, even as they told him he couldn't come along with them when they flew her to the hospital.
"Well, you better find room, or I'll make the room myself. Do you understand me?"
"Ye... ye... yes, sir." The EMT stumbling in his words, visibly shaken by Tim's threats, however empty he knew they really were.
When they got to the hospital, they rushed her into the E.R., immediately taking her to get a full body scan to see if anything had been broken or severely injured. Luckily, other than some deep scrapes, she only had a couple of broken ribs from the chest compressions. He felt a twinge of remorse that he'd been the one to hurt her, but thinking of the alternative... well, he knew things could have been much worse.
Apparently, he hadn't thought of everything, as he was asked to leave the room. When they wouldn't tell him why, blaming it on protocol, he instantly knew what they were looking for - it was to check for signs of sexual abuse. His head thudded against the hallway wall, amazed he hadn't even thought of that. God, he didn't know what he would do if Caleb had touched her, violated her in those ways... Knowing he was the reason it had happened to her...
He was about to punch a hole in the wall when he heard his phone ring in his pocket. Angela.
"Hey."
"Hey. They going to let you stay?" she asked.
"Yeah, I'll be here for awhile. A couple of the nurses brought up a cot for me, although I doubt I'll be sleeping any time soon." he said, "Oh, and thanks for having Harper bring me some clothes. I appreciate it."
"Yeah, no problem. Couldn't have your stench waking her up before she's ready." she jested, "So, how is she? Any word yet?"
"She's still unconscious, but that's because she's completely exhausted so they're not too worried about that. They were more concerned with the severe dehydration, so they've got her on a lot of I.V. fluids right now. And scans showed she has a couple of cracked ribs, but other than that, she's okay... So far."
"Yeah, this is going to be a lot for her to handle - being kidnapped, tortured, buried alive...? Good thing her parents are therapists."
He almost smirked, but he was too dejected to let himself, "Yeah, that's true. Not what I meant though."
"Then what?" she asked.
"Like, I'm in the hallway right now because they're checking her for signs of fucking rape." he replied softly, voice cracking slightly as he fought back tears. "God, what if he...?"
"You and I both know that was not in this guy's M.O. He was more about mentally screwing with them than physically. Plus, we all know how tough she is. She's a fighter. She proved that to us plenty of times... especially today, right?"
He wiped his eyes, coughing to try to hide the grief in his voice, as he replied, "Yeah... yeah, you're right. Tougher than any Boot I've ever had, that's for sure."
"Just promise me one thing."
"What?"
"That you'll give her a while to deal with all of this before you tell her."
"Tell her what?" he asked in confusion.
"That you're completely in love with her."
"Ang, I am not..."
"Do not give me that crap. I know you, Timothy." she interrupted, "And what's this Jackson tells me about you assaulting Benjamin Lassie earlier and telling him... what was it? Oh yeah! That you were going to 'pull him inside out'? Yeah, you don't care about her at all." she added, sarcastically.
"I didn't assault him."
"You, as a cop, know that was assault." she corrected, "But I also know I have never seen you more scared or more frantic than you were today. That wasn't just because you're her training officer, and it certainly wasn't just because you felt guilty.'
'Listen... after Isabel, you took that broken heart of yours, and on your own, did your best to piece it back together. But then, you hid it away... for years! And now, somehow, that girl in there managed to weasel her way into it and I'm so fucking glad she has. Tim, I've never seen you smile as much in our entire friendship than you have since you met her. She makes you happy, so I'm telling you to please take a chance and tell her what she means to you. Just... give all her wounds time to heal first. Especially the emotional ones."
She was right. He knew she was right. He'd been refusing to let himself believe it, but he'd been fighting down those feelings since the first time he laid eyes on her. Of course, it was just a physical attraction then, but it didn't take too long for him to fall head over heels. He guessed the first time he realized it was when he was quarantined in that house during the biological attack on the city. When that infected blood and saliva hit his face, neck, chest... the first thing he could think of was turning around and slamming that door, making sure it didn't spread and that Lucy was safe. He remembered trying to calm her down, as he was in there cleaning it all off. Her panicked voice bringing him out of unconsciousness after Pete had struck him in the head and knocked him out. How scared he was that it would be the last day he'd ever see her. That he would die without her knowing...
He loved everything about her. He loved her lame attempts to be funny and how you would almost never see her without a smile on her face. He loved how easily shaken she could get by the people she worked with every day but how confident she would be when she was dealing with complete strangers in a highly volatile situation. He loved how embarrassed she would get when he caught her lightly singing along to some song stuck in her head, but at the karaoke bar after work and a few drinks, she'll be up there singing like she was Aretha Franklin. He loved her competitive spirit but how sometimes she would let him beat her at a Tim Test or a bet they'd made to make sure that his day was just a little bit better than before (although his own competitive nature would never admit that aloud). Mostly, he loved that he'd never met someone so generous, so genuine, and so beautiful, inside and out.
He knew he couldn't deny it anymore.
He was truly, madly, deeply in love with her.
...Shit.