I just made the decision to write my own story. Hopefully there will be more than one story I'm going to post here. We will see... š«£
English isn't my first language, so there is a very big chance of mistakes š
I nearly never watch movies or series but I live in those fandoms and use the characters and backgrounds for stories. So it will be often AU or OOC. I'm a simp for hurt and comfort, angsty drama and sick fics, so please be warned in advance š
A/N: I'm very obsessed with Rocker and Deacon so I made my own little world around the SWAT series but I changed the story line. If you're not a fan of occ or changing the universe's details, this will probably not something you enjoy. In my own SWAT world Rocker and Deacon are best friends, living together and Rocker being on Hondo's team. Just a warning: I NEVER WATCH A SERIES WITH MUCH PASSION, I only use the characters for my own little world of fanfic.
Summary: Y/n found a family in the SWAT team where she works as a forensics and tech specialist. When Y/n has to save electronic evidence at a crime scene it suddenly turns into a hostage situation.
Warnings: hurt reader, fluffy, reade is attacked, injuries, hospital, violence, bad police (not SWAT), protective Rocker and Deacon (I plan on making more one shots in this universe which could end sooner or later in a poly romance, we will see, but every one shot can stand alone)
Word Count: ~8.6k
The SWAT headquarter was already alive when y/n stepped off the elevator. Phones rang. Chairs scraped. Keyboards clicked in rapid bursts. Someone laughed near the coffee machine while Hondo spoke quietly with Tan near the board.
It was the kind of normal morning that made y/n smile without realizing it.
"Morning girly!" Chris called from her desk.
With a wave and a cheerful "good morning" y/n replied softly, waving.
Deacon looked up from his Ipad the second he heard her voice. Even if they saw each other in the morning, in the kitchen of their shared house, he couldn't deny the fact that something was missing when y/n wasn't in the bullpen with them. A little over two years the young woman helped the team with her IT and forensic abilities and of course as a perfect asset for the whole team.
"Coffee's fresh," the grey haired Sergeant said warmly. "Rocker hasn't ruined it yet."
"Hey. I make excellent coffee," Rocker protested from the kitchenette.
"You burn water," Luca's loud voice beamed from the across the room, a mischievous grin on his face.
Y/n giggled quietly as she set her bag down at her workstation. Rocker slid a mug towards her anyway, already fixed the way she liked it.
"Fuel for the brain," he said with a wink, making y/n slightly blush at the extra attention her colleague gave her.
"You're spoiling her, big guy." Chris teased, making y/n duck her head to hide her pink cheeks. The way she was treated here was such a drastic difference from her old precinct. The slight mocking was nothing compared to the bitter times she had to get through over two years ago. Even when the mood is tense, the workload nearly unmanageable, her team stays fair. They all had a lot of respect for each other, no matter if they're in active duty or like y/n in technics and forensics. She loved it here and the team loved her.
"She deserves it," Rocker replied instantly and Deacon nodded in agreement. She loved mornings like this. Safe, loud, normal. It still amazed her how easily the team had become a family.
---
A few moments later y/n was already deep into helping Tan with a stubborn software glitch. Fingers flying over the keyboard, a focused expression on the young woman's face.
"Okayā¦" she murmured thoughtfully. "Here it is," a smiled spread on y/n's face when she finally found the reason for Tan's problems with his Ipad.
"You saw that in that short amount of time?" Tan blinked.
"I've seen worse." Y/n giggled, handing the electronic devise back to her colleague.
Deacon leaned over her shoulder. "We seriously don't deserve you."
A quiet but shy laugh escaped y/n's soft lips.
Across the room Hondo's phone rang. He listened, expression focused. With some long strides the tall man went over to the tech specialist.
"Y/ln," he called her gently. "Narcotics could use your help on a cleared scene. Digital evidence recovery."
Her eyes widened slightly. "Of course, I'm already on my way."
Rocker frowned a little. "Cleared?"
"That's what they said," Hondo replied.
Deacon stood, his attention fully on his female roommate. "You want one of us with her?"
Hondo shook his head. "Uniforms still on site."
"As long as it is so calm for us, we should use the time for a bit of training. I need my revenge on Street." Luca raised his fists for an symbolic act of fighting.
None of them knew it would be the last normal moment of the day.
---
With all her tech stored in the trunk of the black police issued SUV, y/n arrived in less than twenty minutes the house which was in the focus of Narcotics.
Y/n let her eyes wander while exiting the car. It looked like a normal two story house. The wooden windows needed a new layer of pale blue coating and the front yard needed some more attention and love, that was for sure.
While contemplating which of her devises she needed for her first sweep, y/n thought back to the time she officially moved in with Deacon and Rocker. Despite what outsiders might think, their shared house was, even before y/n moved in, clinically clean. Not in an uncomfortable way. It was warm and welcoming and y/n did her best to make it even more a home. Some touches here and there, freshly planted flowers in the front yard and her very own aura made the Sergeants' house more of home than it ever was.
This two story house was nothing but unsuspicious. Despite the information that Narcotics needed her expertise, there was nothing y/n knew about their case. A short talk with the head of this call was more than needed for the young woman.
The officer informed her about possible important data on the electronic devises they found in the office. Slowly most of the officers were filtering into their squad cars, ready to serve and protect the countless streets of LA.
The house was quiet in that wrong kind of way. Not peaceful. Empty. The kind of silence that felt sick, like the air itself was holding its breath.
Y/n stood in the doorway of the office, gloves already on, tablet tucked under her arm, eyes scanning the room with practiced precision. Dust motes floated in the sunlight coming through the half-closed blinds. Papers were scattered across the desk, a laptop knocked onto its side, cords trailing like severed veins.
The narcotics team had moved fast. Hopefully not too fast, but she had a bad gut feeling.
Her instincts, sharpened from the years of forensics work, whispered that something here had been rushed.
"Clear and secure," the officer outside had said confidently.
But y/n had learned that "secure" didn't always mean safe. She stepped further inside. The faint smell of dust and paper lingered beneath the chemical tang of cleaning spray. Someone tried to wipe things down.
"Okay, let's see what is been trying to be hide." Y/n murmured softly to herself, setting her tablet on the desk. She plugged in her portable drive and flipped the laptop upright. The screen flickered. Password protected, of course. Her fingers moved quickly, calm and precise. Behind her the house creaked. The sudden change of air, like something dangerous is lurking around the corner made her freeze.
It was subtle. The kind of sound old houses made all the time. But her pulse spiked anyway.
Y/n glanced over her shoulder, the hallway beyond the office was dark and empty. She turned back to the screen, the password cracked within seconds. Folders bloomed open, transactions, burner accounts, encrypted files, security footage.
"Gotcha," she whispered.
That was when a shadow moved behind the door. Too close, too fast. Before she could turn around a hand slammed over her mouth. Another arm wrapped around her throat. Her tablet clattered to the floor.
"Don't you dare scream," a male voice hissed in her ear, wild and shaking. "Or I swear I'll kill you."
Terror exploded in her body. She clawed at his arm instinctively, her breath trapped in her chest. The man dragged her backwards into the room, slamming the door shut with his foot.
"You cops think, you're so smart," he snarled. "You missed me."
Y/n struggled, but he was stronger, adrenaline-fueled and desperate. The woman reminded herself of the self-defense techniques Rocker and Deacon once taught her. It was a funny and slow day at the headquarter. She tried to teach them some of her relaxing yoga poses which ended with the two Sergeants moaning and groaning in pain from. Later they showed her some techniques to defend herself. Smashing someone's nose with her elbow. Crushing crown jewels with her knee. Stomping on feet with all her might. All those techniques now were gone. What lasted was the tight feeling in her chest with not enough oxygen filling her lungs.
When he loosened his grip enough y/n tried to get out the stranger's grip. But in a moment of seconds he shoved her hard. She stumbles into the back, pain exploding through her spine.
"You're gonna give me everything you pulled off that computer," he shouted.
"I- I don't have it yet," y/n stuttered honestly. "I just got her."
"Liar!" He backhanded her across the face. Stars burst behind her eyes. Her legs buckled. "I swear," fear pouring out now. "I don't know anything yet."
Rage twisted his face. "You think I'm stupid?" And with that he shoved her violently. The sudden attack caught her frightened body without forewarning. She stumbled but soon lost her footing so fast she couldn't try to hold herself upright. While her body went down her head cracked painfully against the edge of the wooden desk. A sickening sound filled the room. White-hot pain tore through her skull and the world flipped. She collapsed sideways, shoulder slamming into the hardwood floor with a brutal snap. Agony exploded down her arm, Then everything went dark.
"Hey!" The man crouched over her. "Get the fuck up!"
No response. Her body lay twisted unnaturally, blood slowly pooling beneath her head.
"Wake up!" The man kicked her in the ribs, hard. Pain dragged her back into awareness in a blur of fire. She cried out weakly, not fully regaining back the realization of the past events and why she is laying on the ground in agony.
"There you go. You don't get to pass out, no easy way out for a bitch like you." Another kick.
Her side screamed. Instinctively, y/n curled further into herself, her shoulder screaming in protest. Her vision swam. Blood dripping down her temple where she crashed into the corner of the wooden desk. Everything hurt. Her shoulder burned like it was tearing itself apart. Her head pounded with every heartbeat. She couldn't breathe right, she couldn't think straight. She could barely stay conscious. Never had y/n been more scared in her life.
Across the city, the members of LA SWAT hurried out of the gym to their black vehicle. Movements professional, fast yet calm. Gear snapping into place. Weapons checked. Faces hard, focused and utterly professional.
Hondo murmured into his phone, when his entire expression changed he ended the call.
"Everything alright, Hondo?" Deacon asked instantly, feeling the shift of his friend's composure.
"The hostageā¦It's presumedly y/n." he said carefully. "Didn't get enough intel right now, just the parameter for us to make a big entrance, but it's likely that it is her."
The world stopped. Rocker went pale. Deacon's breath punched out of his chest. Luca swore under his breath. Chris' eyes filled with dread.
"What do you mean, it's y/n?" Rocker demanded.
"She was assisting narcotics," Hondo said grimly. "They missed the suspect. He took her. They're still in the house, but the guy is running on empty."
Silence crushed the van. Rocker's hands trembled around his rifle. "He touched her," Rocker growled softly. "I swear to Godā¦"
"Fucking idiots of narcotics, if something happened to herā¦" Luca spit.
"Focus," Hondo snapped gently but firmly. "We need to be clear. We save her first. That's the mission."
---
Inside the house, y/n drifted in and out. More squad cars filled the space in front of the house. Officers in blue surrounding the house. An attempt from the Captain of Narcotics to negotiate, to reduce the fallout of the failure his team had to be responsible for, fell on deaf ears. So they just observed the house and waited for SWAT to save the day.
Pain was everywhere. Y/n's shoulder felt wrong, hanging, burning, useless. Her head throbbed violently. Every breath hurt her ribs.
The man nervously looked out of the window. More cop cars, more officers. He needed a plan and that fast.
He spun on her. "You already ruined everything!" He yanked her up by her arm. Her shoulder screamed. Y/n cried out in agony. Not able to think straight the only sound she could muster was a soft whimper.
"Shut up!" He dragged her towards the window. "They want proof I'm serious," he said wildly.
The outside world looked like pure chaos. Police cars lined the street. Weapons trained and megaphones blaring.
"Put the hostage down!"
The man shoved her against him, gun pressed to her temple.
SWAT moves into position. Hondo watched through binoculars which were trained on the only window which shows movement.
"Got visual," he said sharply.
Rocker's breath hitched. A chorus of "ready", "visual, affirmative", "clear shot", was heard in their comms.
"Sniper ready. On my mark," Hondo replied to his team.
The man screamed into the window, clearly hanging on a threat. Nervous and desperate, not a good combination, that was clear for the whole team.
"You let me walk or she dies!" His grip tightened. The man turned slightly, just enough for Hondo to give his final command.
"Clear, now!"
The shot cracked through the air. The window shattering immediately. The perp screamed as the bullet tore through his shoulder. His gun made a loud clattering noise on the hardwood floor. The door to the office flew open the same moment the bullet hit the man, leaving him no seconds to scramble back to get his gun or grab his hostage again.
Y/n collapsed instantly, not aware of the commotion in the office which was her prison just short moments ago.
Rocker was on the man in seconds, wrenching him down, cuffing him hard. "Don't move!"
With Luca and Rocker on the perp and Street and Tan outside probably coming out of their position in which one of them just showed their sniper skills, Deacon cleared the room and ran straight to y/n.
He dropped beside her, hands shaking. "Y/n! Darling, look at me!"
Her eyes fluttered, a weak whisper leaving her dry mouth. "Danā¦"
"Oh God." Deacon breathed. There was blood everywhere, matting her silky hair. Her shoulder looked dislocated, her eyes half lidded. Her face screamed pain. Thank God she was breathing, but what should be a deep breathe only came out ragged and shallow. Deacon tried to assess and catalogue her injuries as fast and efficient as he can. He shoved her thin jacket, which has "Forensics" imprinted on her chest and at the back, away and lifted her long sleeve shirt. Bruising already blooming across her ribs.
"Clear scene. Need a medic right now. Hostage is injured." The skilled SWAT Sergeant commanded in his professional, no-nonsense tone, he always used in situations like this. But that wasn't a normal SWAT situation. It was one of their own, laying hurt in front of him. It was his colleague, his roommate, his friend.
Rocker's face was pure rage when he dragged the perp to one of the squad cars, listening to Deacon's voice over the radio.
"h-hurtsā¦" Y/n whimpered. Her vision blurred, her breaths were shallow and uneven, little gasps that scraped her throat.
Deacon whispered words of solace, sliding one hand behind her neck to keep her head still like he'd been trained.
She tried to move, the cold from the hardwood floor slowly creeping into her bones, but cried out sharply.
"Don't move," he said quickly but gently. "Easy."
He scanned her further and his stomach twisted. Blood continued to ooze slowly from the head wound. Deacon fumbled a gauze pad out of his tactical vest and pressed it carefully against her head. "It's gonna help," he murmured. "Medics are on their way."
She whimpered softly. Everything hurt. Her body started with light trembles which rapidly developed into uncontrollable shocks.
The older man's eyes burned. On the floor, hurt and in pain, y/n even looked smaller. Broken. It were their job to protect her and they failed.
The house was suddenly quieter. Not peaceful but emptied of danger.
Sirens wailed closer outside.
Deacon stayed with y/n, never letting go. Her breathing hitched. "I'm so cold."
Shock, he recognized it instantly. He tugged his vest open and pulled down his jacket to drape it over her gently.
Her teeth chattered, whispering something which Deacon couldn't make out. He leaned closer so that she could see his face clearly.
"I know it hurts, you will feel better soon, y/n," he brushed her cheek with his thumb carefully, avoiding the blood on her face. "Help's almost here."
He kept talking, anything to keep her conscious. "Remember movie night last week?" he said softly. "You fell asleep halfway through it."
She gave the faintest breath of a laugh. "You tucked me inā¦"
"Yeah," he smiled shakily. "And Rocker took a picture."
Her eyes fluttered. "De- delete it," she murmured. Then she groaned softly. "My head's spinning."
"Look at me," Deacon said gently but firmly.
Outside, chaos reigned.
The perp was shoved into the back of a squad car, screaming and bleeding. Rocker slammed the door shut harder than necessary. The sound echoed.
He spun immediately, eyes already searching the house, with a glimmer of hope that Deacon is already outside with y/n. "Is she okay?" he shouted. No one answered fast enough so bolted back inside.
---
He nearly skidded across the floor when he reached the office for the second time that day.
The sight hit him with a punch. Y/n on the ground. Blood everywhere. Deacon holding one of her hands. Her left arm twisted wrong.
"Oh God, y/n," Rocker's breath left his lungs in a rush.
He dropped to his knees on her other side. Her eyes flickered toward him.
"Donavan," she whispered weakly. His throat closed instantly.
"Hey angel, I'm here." He brushed her hair back carefully, hands shaking.
He looked at Deacon. "How bad?"
"Concussion for sure. Shoulder dislocated. Maybe broken ribs," Deacon replied tightly. "She's in shock."
Rocker swore quietly.
Sirens finally screamed closer. Red and blue lights flooded through the windows. Almost there. Y/n whimpered when another wave of pain rolled through her. "Tiredā¦"
Deacon shook his head gently. "No sleeping yet, sweetheart."
Rocker smiled softly through his very own fear. "Stay awake with us, 'kay?"
Paramedics burst in moments later.
"Female hostage- Head trauma, possible dislocated shoulder, broken ribs," Deacon rattled off fast and clear, as professional as he could. "In and out of consciousness. Shock symptoms."
"Got it, Sergeant." one medic said.
They moved quickly. Cervical collar. Pressure bandage around her head. Vitals. Y/n cried softly when they adjusted her shoulder. Rocker flinched like it was his own pain.
As they loaded her onto the stretcher, her grip tightened on Deacon's hand.
"Don't leave."
Deacon squeezed her hand back. "Never."
Relief washed over her face before exhaustion pulled her under.
The stretcher rolled fast toward the ambulance, cold air brushing y/n's overheated skin as red and blue lights blurred together above her.
Rocker started to climb in after her.
"Only one," the paramedic said firmly, blocking him gently but decisively.
"I've got her," Deacon was already stepping inside, the doors slammed shut before Rocker could say another word.
Everything felt too bright and too fast. Y/n whimpered as the stretcher vibrated with every bump in the road. Pain rippled violently through her ribs, her shoulder burned like it was tearing apart and her head throbbed so hard it made her vision swim.
Deacon sat close beside her, one hand holding hers tightly, the other braced against the edge of the stretcher.
Her breathing came in sharp shallow gasps. A paramedic leaned in, shining a bright light into her eyes. "Y/n, can you tell me where you are?"
"Am-ambulanceā¦" she mumbled.
The vehicle swerved hard. The world spun violently. Her stomach lurched painfully from the sudden movement.
"Sick," y/n gasped.
Deacon turned instantly, getting a bag for him just in time as y/n gagged hard.
The force of it sent agony ripping through her ribs. She cried out, body trembling violently.
Deacon carefully supported her shoulders to keep her from moving too much. "I've got you."
Another wave hit and y/n gagged again, tears pouring down her cheeks. Her injured shoulder screamed when her body jerked forward. The pain was blinding.
"I'm sorry," she whispered confused when it finally eased.
"Hey, none of that," Deacon said softly.
"ā¦feel likeā¦gonna pass out."
Deacon leaned closer so she could see his face clearly. She tried her best to focus on his eyes. The same eyes she often got lost in, in the last two years.
The medic pushed pain medication slowly into the IV. Warmth spread through her right arm. The pain dulled just enough to breathe. Her eyelids drooped. The sirens grew louder, then slower as they neared the hospital.
The ambulance slowed and the doors burst open. The bright lights of the hospital's vehicle hall flooded in.
"Trauma team ready!"
The paramedic rattled off y/n's injuries and state as the stretcher rolled fast through the swinging doors of the ED. Bright fluorescent lights streaked above y/n's blurred vision.
Footsteps pounded.
Voices overlapped.
Machines beeped.
Her stomach lurched again as they pushed her into the trauma bay. Deacon stayed right beside her, hand tight in hers, grounding her in the chaos.
The trauma team swarmed around the young woman. Scissors cut through her clothes. Cold air hit her skin. Gloved hands pressed everywhere.
"Bp's low."
"Pulse elevated."
"Get oxygen on her."
"Prep CT for head scan."
A strangled cry bleeds out of y/n's mouth when fingers pressed against her ribcage.
"Sir, you need to step back now." A doctor leaned over. "We have to treat her."
Her breathing hitched into short, desperate gasps. "No, please noā¦"
Deacon's heart shattered. He knew he has to make room for the nurses and the doctor. Y/n needed the medical attention and he didn't want to slow down the process. With a shattered heart he took a step back, out of the room.
Her sobs echoed through the closed door. Deacon stood there shaking, fists clenched, feeling like he'd abandoned her even though he knew he hadn't.
The waiting room was already full of SWAT. Hondo stood rigid near the windows. Chris paced. Tan sat stiffly, hands clasped. Luca leaned against then wall, jaw tight. Rocker stood near the far end, arms crossed like he was physically holding himself together. The second Deacon walked in, all eyes snapped to him.
"How is she?" Chris blurted out.
Deacon swallowed hard. "They're working on her now."
Rocker stepped forward instantly. "Working on her now?"
Deacon ran a hand through his hair shakily. "Head trauma. Dislocated shoulder. Probably broken ribs. She was in shock."
Silence slammed down. Rocker's face drained of color. "He beat her?"
Deacon nodded slowly. "Kicked her while she was unconscious."
That was it. Rocker exploded. He slammed his fist into the wall so hard the sound echoed.
"SON OF Aā¦"
Hondo was the first to move, grabbing him by the shoulders. "Rocker!"
"He hurt her," Rocker roared, eyes blazing with tears and fire. "She was supposed to be safe."
Rocker paced like a trapped animal. "I swear if she doesn't come out of that room okayā¦ I let him pay and the incapable idiots from Narcotics tooā¦"
Time stretched painfully in the waiting room. Every second felt too long. The clock on the wall ticked loudly, each click digging into Deacon's nerves. Rocker hadn't stopped pacing for longer than five minutes. Chris sat with her knees pulled to her chest. Tan stared at the floor like he was trying to hold himself together by sheer focus. Luca kept checking the hallway every time footsteps echoed. Hondo stood calm on the outside, tense on the inside.
Finally a woman in blue scrubs walked towards them, chart in hand. Every one of them stood instantly.
"Y/n y/ln?" the doctor asked gently.
"Yes," Deacon was the first one to speak out loud.
"I'm Doctor Santos," she said. "Miss y/n is stable now."
The room exhales in one collective breath. Rocker's knees nearly buckled in relief.
"But she took a significant amount of trauma."
The team leaned closer.
"She has a moderate concussion and a laceration that required stitches. Her left shoulder was dislocated and there's ligament strain, possibly a small fracture we'll confirm with imaging. She also has two broken ribs."
Rocker's hands curled into fists.
"The bruising along her torso indicates blunt-force trauma."
Silence hit hard.
"She was kicked," Deacon said quietly.
The doctor nodded.
"We've reset the shoulder and given her pain management," Dr. Santos continued. "She'll be sore for quite a while, but no internal bleeding. That's good news."
"Probably several weeks for her recovery. Concussion protocol, limited movement of the shoulder and no heavy physical activity."
Y/n's room was dim and quiet. Monitors beeped softly. IV lines ran into her arm. Her head was wrapped in a bandage. One arm was secured in a sling. Bruises were already blooming dark along her collarbone and ribs. She looked so small in the hospital bed. Deacon stepped in first.
"Y/n," he whispered.
Her eyes fluttered open immediately. "Daniel," she breathed, relief flooding her face.
He crossed the room in two long steps and very carefully took her right hand into his, avoiding the IV.
Rocker hovered in the doorway, afraid to rush her. She turned her head slowly, wincing.
"Donā¦?"
That was the sign he needed, he hurried until he could finally touch her.
"I'm here, angel."
The moment she saw him, quiet sobs shook her body. Rocker gently brushed her hair back.
After the team made sure that indeed their friend and colleague was alive breathing, exhaustion pulled at y/n again. So the rest of the team, except for Rocker and Deacon, quietly backed out of her hospital room.
Night settled over the hospital, the hallway lights dimmed low and the usual chaos faded into hushed footsteps and distant murmurs. Y/n's room glowed in pale blue light form the monitor beside her bed, each steady beep a quiet reminder that she was still here, still breathing.
Deacon sat in the chair closest to her bed, his forearms resting on the mattress, one hand wrapped carefully around hers. Rocker occupied the other chair, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, eyes never leaving her face.
She slept restlessly. Even with the pain medication her brow remained furrowed, lips parting as shallow breaths escaped.
Every few minutes her body twitched.
"She's not settling," Rocker murmured quietly.
Deacon nodded. "Shock and trauma. The Doc warned us."
Y/n shifted again, a soft whimper slipping from her throat.
"Noā¦pleaseā¦"
Deacon leaned closer instantly. "Y/n, you're safe."
Her breathing quickened. Her fingers tightening around his. "Don't hurt me," she whispered faintly.
Rocker's jaw tightened painfully. "She's back there."
Sweat beaded along her hairline. Her head shook weakly against the pillow.
"I can't breathe, pleaseā¦"
Deacon brushed her hair back carefully, avoiding the bandage. "Sweetheart, wake up. It's a dream."
Her chest rose fast and shallow. "He's here. He's gonna kill me." Rocker was at her side, kneeling beside the bed. "No one's here but us," he said softly but firmly. "You're in the hospital, safe."
She suddenly cried out sharply and jolted awake with a gasp. Her eyes wild with fear. She tried to sit up and instantly cried out in pain.
"Easy," Deacon said quickly, gently keeping her still.
"Don't move, darling."
She sobbed helplessly. "I couldn't get away."
Rocker carefully rested a hand over her uninjured forearm, grounding but gentle. Her breath hitched and her body shook violently. Deacon wiped tears from her cheeks.
Rocker's voice cracked just a little. "We've got you. No one is gonna touch you."
Her breathing slowly eased as they spoke to her quietly, reassuringly, anchoring her back to the present. After several minutes, exhaustion dragged her eyelids closed again. But sleep didn't come easy. Every time she drifted off, her body tensed. Another hour passed. Then it happened again. This time her nightmare even more vivid than the last.
Deacon leaned in immediately. Her face twisted with fear. Rocker squeezed her hand gently. "Open your eyes, angel."
She gasped awake again. "Hurtsā¦" she slurred.
Deacon gently adjusted her pillow, making sure her injured shoulder stayed supported. "Let's get you more comfortable."
He carefully helped her shift her just enough to ease the pressure on her ribs. She whimpered but relaxed slightly once settled. Rocker brushed her hair back again. "Better?"
She made a barely noticeable nod with her head.
"Try to breathe with me," he demonstrated quietly. Inhale. Exhale.
She matched him shakily. Minutes passed. The tremors eased.
"You're doing great," Deacon murmured.
They sat there in the quiet, one hand in hers, the other resting reassuringly near her arm. Hours slipped by. Her breathing eventually deepened. Sleep finally came, lighter, but calmer.
Ever so often she stirred and one of them whispered her name softly she settled again. When dawn's faint light crept in through the windows, y/n was finally resting peacefully.
On the other hand, Deacon and Rocker hadn't slept a minute. But neither of them cared. She was alive, she was safe. And they were right where she needed them.
Morning light filtered softly through the hospital blinds, pale gold lights stretching across the floor and Lily's bed. The steady beeping of the heart monitor blended with the distant hospital sounds, carts rolling, low voices, the shift change beginning.
Deacon sat exactly where he had all night, shoulders stiff, dark circles under his eyes, hand still loosely wrapped around y/n's.
Rocker leaned back in the other chair, head tilted against the wall, eyes closed but instantly opening the second y/n stirred.
She blinked slowly. The world swam. Her head pounded like a drum inside her skull. A wave of nausea rolled hard through her stomach. The sterile odor and the cold hospital atmosphere a stark contrast to the place where she should've woken up this morning. Home. In Deacon's and Rocker's former guest room which felt like a home almost too fast.
She whimpered weakly, trying to sort her thoughts, the memories of the last day and to get the rolling of her stomach under control.
Immediately both men leaned in.
"Y/n?" Deacon said gently. "You okay?"
She tried to nod and immediately regretted it. Pain exploded behind her eyes and she groaned softly. "My head hurts so bad."
"That's the concussion," Rocker said quietly. "Take it easy, angel."
Her mouth felt dry. Her ribs ached with every breath. One look into her face is enough for both SWAT Sergeants to know that their friend is in severe pain. Her ghostly pale skin no contrast to the white hospital sheets.
"I feel dizzy," y/n whispered.
Deacon carefully adjusted her pillow, lifting her head just slightly. "Slow breaths."
The room tilted violently and y/n's stomach clenched again.
"I think I'm gonna be sick."
The grey haired man reached for the bag immediately, holding it gently to her mouth.
She gagged softly, body trembling. It wasn't violent like the night before, but the nausea was relentless. Tears slid down her cheeks when it passed. She needed some minutes to get some more control over her shaking body and her rolling stomach to calm down further for her to speak instead of gagging.
"You look tired," she directed at both her friends.
Rocker brushed her hair back carefully when he exchanged a knowing look with the other Sergeant. "Nah, no way."
"We look like zombies," Deacon said, lighting the mood.
Her brow furrowed, while her brain caught up. "You stayed all nightā¦"
"Of course we did," Rocker said immediately.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to keep you up."
Rocker straightened , his voice gentle and firm. "Hey, do not apologize. We'd do it again a thousand times."
Deacon leaned a bit closer to the injured woman on the bed. He saw her smaller hands fidgeting with the hem of the hospital blanket, her eyes lowered to avoid their stares.
"You're family, y/n." He laid a warm hand over her cold ones to gain her attention.
"Th-thank you," y/n looked up. Another wave of dizziness hit suddenly. Her blank look alarming the two men the moment they met her eyes.
"Are you dizzy?" Deacon asked with concern and urgency in his voice, a bit relieved when the door opened and the attending doctor and a nurse stepped inside y/n's room.
"Good morning, y/n. How are we feeling?" Dr. Morales said gently.
Y/n swallowed carefully. "My head feels like it's splitting in half. My ribs hurt every time I breathe and my shoulder is on fire."
The doctor nodded knowingly. "That's about what we expect after a trauma like yours."
Rocker slowly stand up, his own nerves, lack of sleep and the worries he had all night making him restless, his jaw tight.
"She's ben nauseous all morning," Deacon added quietly.
"..dizzyā¦" y/n whispered.
Dr. Morales scrolled through the chart, studying the notes from the ER and the variety of treatments she got on the way to the hospital and when she was brought to the ER yesterday.
"On a scale from one to ten, how bad are you hurting at the moment?"
Y/n swallowed the lump in her throat, hesitating. "Eightā¦ sometimes nine."
Rocker's head snapped up like he couldn't believe his ears. "Eight?"
The doctor tipped something on his ipad and nodded calmly. "Well, we've given a mild opioid overnight and IV anti-nausea medication. We're trying to avoid oversedation because of the head injury."
Y/n closed her eyes, distress spreading in her chest. A silent tear rolled down her pale cheeks.
"She's supposed to be in pain? Because she looks miserable, barely slept the night due to the pain." Rocker crossed his arm over his broad chest tightly.
Y/n felt the tension getting thicker in her hospital room, almost unbearable for her in her state. "Donavan, it's okayā¦" a faint whisper could be heard in the room.
"No it's not," he cut in immediately, not angry at her, just scared.
Deacon made his way over to his friend, gently touching Rocker's shoulder. "Easy."
Rocker ran a hand through his hair aggressively. "You're letting her suffer!"
"No," the doctor said calmly but firmly. "We're treating her with great responsibility."
Y/n whimpered softly as another pulse of pain hit her ribs. Rocker's face fell instantly.
He lowered his voice, stressing out the injured woman was not his attention.
"Look at her," he said quietly now. "Pleaseā¦"
The room went still. Dr. Morales sighed softly. "We can increase her medication slightly and add a lidocaine patch for her ribs. That should help without risking her neurological status."
Deacon gave a faint smile. "Thank you doctor." Rocker let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding.
The nurse prepared the meds quickly while the doctor explains the side effects and checked y/n's shoulder and stitched up head wound.
Rocker hovered close like a bodyguard. The fact that he couldn't take away the pain from the younger woman was making him utterly nervous. When the medication finally was administered, y/n relaxed just slightly. "Thank you," she whispered weakly. Her breathing came a little easier and the tension slowly eased from her battered body.
After the doctor and the nurse left the room Rocker shook his head. "Next time they try to under-treat you, I'm flipping a table."
Y/n gave a weak huff of laughter that turned into a wince.
"Don't flip tables," Deacon said dryly, rolling his eyes at his colleague and friend.
"I absolutely will," Rocker replied with a wink. Y/n smiled despite the pain. And for the first time that morning, the room felt lighter.
The room was finally quiet. The pain medication had dulled the sharpest edges of y/n's injuries, the nausea had settled and exhaustion wrapped around her like a heavy blanket. Her breathing evened out slowly, lashes resting against bruised cheeks. For the first time since the attack she slept.
Deacon sat beside her bed, watching her chest rise and fall, finally allowing himself to breathe too.
"She's out," Rocker whispered softly from the doorway. He glanced at the empty coffee cup in his hands. "I'm going to get a refill before we collapse."
Deacon nodded. "Thanks, man." And with that Rocker left quietly to not disturb his sleeping friend.
Minutes later the door to the hospital room opened, a nurse appeared at the door. "Mr. Kay? Can I talk to you about Miss y/ln meds for a moment?"
Deacon hesitated. He didn't want to leave y/n alone, but he knew discussion her meds and her overall all state is important for when she is finally discharged into his and Rocker's care, which hopefully didn't take much longer. He looked back at y/n's sleeping form and followed the nurse out of the room into the clean hospital hall.
---
The door opened, this time the blinds on the small door window rattled from the force. Heavy boots stepped inside. Y/n stirred immediately. Her mind wasn't fully awake yet, just sudden awareness of a presence in her room. Her eyes fluttered open, disoriented she saw a uniformed police officer at the foot of her bed, arms crosses, a grim expression on his face.
"Y/n y/ln?" The officer said unfriendly. "I need your statement."
Her heart stuttered.
"Iā¦now?" The woman tried to stay calm, to slow down her racing heart. The pounding of her heart immediately found its way into her concussed brain. Hammering there in a painful strong rhythm. Her tired eyes scanned the whole room. Obviously in search of her two friends. Her two protectors. Where were Daniel and Don?
Over her pounded head she seemed to find her voice. "I'm really tired, officer."
"This is important. There's an investigation against one of our own. So we're on a timeline," he said bluntly.
Fear prickled along her skin. Y/n pushed herself up slightly, wincing in pain from her shoulder and her screaming ribs. The pain meds she finally got, thanks to Rocker, took away the edge and helped her to rest, but it wasn't strong enough to take off enough pain for her to move smoothly.
"Start from when you entered the house." The officer said, fishing out a notebook out of his jacket.
Her thoughts felt foggy. She remembered driving to the house where narcotics waited for her expertise. She still felt the pure rage of the man who beat her. Her head colliding with the wooden desk. She remembered the cold barrel of the gun against her temple. Deacon holding her in place on the floor. A gun shot. The ambulance. There were so many memories in her head, but she couldn't get them in a right order, not with how drowsy she felt currently.
"Iā¦I went into the office to secure the computerā¦"
"More specific," he snapped. "Times. Movements."
Y/n vision blurred. More details. The officer needed more details. She had details in her head but she couldn't put the pieces together.
"I don't know exactlyā¦" she stuttered.
"Try harder. You entered the house and then?"
Her chest tightened.
"In the officeā¦ I saw the computer andā¦ and I heard something and thenā¦"
"You entered the office without clearing the room? You just went to the computer without a parameter check?" The officer scribbled something on his notebook.
"I don'tā¦ Narcotics said the scene was clear. Myā¦my captain said, it was a clear sceneā¦ I thinkā¦" Her hands started shaking. Was it her fault? She wasn't a careless woman. In the contrary. She was always attentive, cautious.
"You think? Think harder. This is an intern investigation, there are some careers on the stake." The officer's voice raised slightly. He was not amused with y/n's attempt to answer, that one was clear.
Cold sweat broke out on y/n's forehead. The trembling of her hands slowly spreading out into her whole body.
Irritated the officer exhaled dramatically. "You carefree forensics. Always eager to play with the big fish. But when it gets tough, WE have to take the fall."
"They said it's clearā¦ But he came fromā¦ he was in the office the whole time. He came from behind meā¦" Y/n tried to steady her wavering voice. "I'm sorry, my headā¦ I've got a concussion. I can't really concentrate," the younger woman stuttered out, pleading with God, her angels, all her good karma, that one of her roommates made an entrance before the situations got worse.
The officer stepped closer to the bed, hovering dangerously over her shaking frame. "We don't have all day, Miss y/ln," he said sharply.
Y/n's breathing sped up. The room felt smaller, like the walls were enclosing around her.
"I can't remember right now," she said, her face contorted in discomfort, panic and pain.
"Dammit, you can. You just don't want to." He raised his voice harshly.
Tears filled her eyes. Whether from the pain, her tight chest or the frustration, she didn't know. "That's not trueā¦"
"Focus!" He snapped.
Her heart slammed painfully against her ribcage. The noise of the room seemed too loud. Her skin too tight. The officer, too close for her liking, was a pile of blurred lines. The dizziness pulling her under again. "ā¦dizzyā¦" she mumbled into the room.
"Stay on track. You work with SWAT. Without the guys with their big guns you're incapable?" The officer chuckled dangerously , too loud for y/n's nerves.
Her breath came faster and faster. Shorter.
"I can't breatheā¦"
"Oh sure you can, you're talking aren't you?" The uniformed man rolled his eyes with disrespect and took another step forward, nearly touching y/n's bed.
That did it. Panic exploded in her chest. Air felt impossible to get into her body. Her fingers curled into the blanket. Her vision tunneled and the room started to spin more violently.
"Miss y/ln! Calm down." The officer said sharply. But she couldn't Her breaths came in gasps. The pain faded into the background when her body was so desperate for her to take some proper breaths. Tears streamed down her face and fell on the white sheets which covered her lap. Her whole body shook.
The door flew open. Rocker froze in the doorway, coffee tray in his hands. He expected Deacon with a still resting y/n in the quiet room, just the way he left fifteen minutes ago, so he needed some seconds to interpret the whole situation. A uniformed officer stood beside y/n's bed, hovering above her, casting a shadow over the smaller woman. His gaze wandered to y/n. Shaking, crying, gasping, her eyes wild with fear and panic. With her right hand she clutched her ribcage. Her left arm shaking despite the sling which should restrain her injured shoulder. The tray hit the counter with a loud clatter. Coffee spilled out of the two cups he just bought at the hospital cafeteria. "What the hell is going on?"
The officer turned around. Rocker didn't recognize the guy. So what the hell was he doing in y/n's hospital room.
"Step away from her!" Donavan said low and dangerous when he crossed the room in long strides.
"She is giving her statement." The officer snapped.
"Oh no, she is not." Rocker growled. "She is having a panic attack and a severe concussion."
The officer chuckled bluntly. "She needs to cooperate. It's an internā¦"
Rocker leaned in closer, eyes blazing. He was one head taller than the officer, who suddenly looked like a dear in the headlights with the taller and broader man hovering over him.
"You will leave. Right. NOW!" Rocker said slowly, his tone dangerous.
The officer scoffed. "You can't order meā¦"
Y/n was barely able to suck in a breath anymore, sobbing harder and spiraling further into her rabbit hole. "ā¦can't breatheā¦"
Rocker turned immediately. Cursing under his breath for giving this shit of an officer too much attention. "Hey. Hey, angel. Look at me." He knelt beside her bed , taking her shaking left hand into his warm ones. "You're safe. The clown is leaving."
The officer hesitated. Rocker glared one more time at the man. "Out!"
Finally the man backed away with a muttered curse and left.
Rocker on the other hand didn't take his eyes off y/n. "Breathe with me, okay." He inhaled slowly. Y/n tried to follow her friend's instruction. But the panic, fear and pain too deep in her bones to calm down.
With the warm and the comfort of the SWAT Sergeant her shaking eased bit by bit, her breaths ever so slowly lengthened.
"That's it," he whispered. "Slow. You're okay. I'm here, princess."
The door opened again, making y/n shrink further into herself, her breath once more hitched in the back of her throat.
"What happened?" A familiar voice asked into the room. The atmosphere still tight with tension.
Rocker looked up from his position beside the bed, fury flashing again.
"A cop interrogated her alone and pushed her into a panic attack."
Deacon's face hardened instantly. Why was a cop in her room, without anyone being informed? First of all she wasn't in the state to give her statement, especially not with the pain meds she got just half an hour ago. Deacon went straight to y/n's side.
"Oh y/n," he whispered. "I'm so sorry. I should have stayed with you." Regret gnawed at him.
She clutched his hand desperately. "I got confused." Her breathing crashed over her again.
"I should have checked the office, the house. I was too carelessā¦" Her breathing finally slower and steadier.
Deacon and Rocker shared a glance. She was giving herself the blame for what happened at the scene. A scene where she was called to, to secure data from a computer. To do her forensic work, not to do police work, not to clear the scene, not to find the perp and arrest him. That is all on narcotics and Deacon and Rocker knew that.
Exhaustion crashed over her again like a train. When her eyes finally began to drop, the two men stayed close this time. Guarding her. Protecting her.
Y/n drifted off quickly this time after she calmed down enough, worn out from the panic. Once her breathing deepened, both men carefully stepped a little away from the bed. Their eyes never left the injured woman.
Deacon's jaw was set hard. "I'm handling this. I'm going to call Hondo."
Back in the room y/n stirred again softly. When her eyes opened slowly, her eyes wandered unfocused along the shadows of the hospital room. Deacon was instantly by her side, not risking another panic attack.
"Hey," the grey haired man whispered.
A small smile spread on her pale lips. When the memories from earlier came crashing down on her. Deacon immediately notices her sudden change and gently touches her uninjured shoulder with care.
"Will I have to talk to him again?" Y/n let out a shaky breath.
"No," Deacon said gently. He did everything in his power that this guy won't interrogate y/n ever again. He was way out of line and that he would feel painfully, from SWAT, from Hondo, from internal affairs. It was not y/n's job to secure a scene. She didn't wear a gun, for crying out loud. She was a tech and forensics specialist, not a cop.
"If anyone takes a statement, it'll be later. With us there. And only when you're ready. Hondo also is going to make sure of that." Rocker added. That seemed to calm her.
āāā
The hospital discharge papers were finally signed three days later. Three long days of scans, pain management, concussion checks, nightmares and slow improvement. Y/n sat in a a wheelchair by the nurse's station, wrapped in a soft hoodie that Deacon had brought from home, her injured arm tucked carefully in a sling, bruises still dark along her cheek and collarbone. She looked pale and tired, but alive.
Rocker crouched in front of her. "Ready to get out of here, angel?"
The nickname made her stomach flutter and warm spread all the way up from her chest, over her neck and coloring her cheeks a shade of pink.
She managed a small but shy smile, nearly too embarrassed to hold Rocker's intense stare.
Deacon thanked the nurse one last time, then gently pushed the wheelchair toward the exit.
When the automatic doors opened, Deacon's truck was already in sight, parked patiently, waiting for the trip back home.
Rocker opened the truck door carefully while Deacon helped y/n stand slowly. The movement sent dizziness rushing through her. "Whoaā¦" she whispered.
The older Sergeant steadied her. Not risking her falling down or hurting herself by stumbling into the wheelchair or the car door.
Once she was settled and buckled in with pillows supporting her ribs and shoulder, Rocker climbed into the passenger seat while Deacon drove.
The ride was quiet. But y/n couldn't bring herself to enjoy the drive home. Sure she was excited to be finally home again, after spending days in the uncomfortable hospital bed. But every bump in the road made y/n flinch. Her head throbbed, her ribs burned. The world felt fuzzy around the edges. She rested her head against the window, welcoming the support for her head.
"Daniel," the younger woman whimpered.
"Yeah, y/n?" Deacon answered, looking into the rearview mirror to catch a glimpse of the woman sitting in the backseat of his truck.
"I feel weird."
He gripped the steering wheel tighter, knuckles turned white. "That's the concussion sweetheart. We're almost home."
Rocker twisted in his seat to look at her "Just breathe okay?"
Y/n nodded weakly, eyes glassy. By the time they pulled into the driveway, she looked completely wiped out.
āāā
Morning came quietly. Almost too quietly. Sunlight crept through the hallway window, pale and soft, but y/n's room was empty. Rocker noticed it first. The bed was rumpled, blankets kicked aside. A strange tightness hit his chest. "Y/n?"
No answer.
Deacon stepped out of his room, already alert.
They noticed her en suite bathroom door slightly ajar. The light was on.
Another gentle shout of her name, but no answer came out of the room.
As calm as possible both Sergeants entered their roommate's bathroom, silently praying that they wouldn't catch her naked. It's her own bathroom after all.
But there she was, on her knees on the cold tile floor. One hand gripping the toilet seat so hard her knuckles turned white, the other arm securely immobilized by a sling.
Her body shook violently with each breath. Cold sweat coated her pale skin, darkening the collar of her shirt, her hair damp and clinging to her temples. Her face was colorless and her lips trembled when another violent wave tore through her. She gagged harshly, her whole body convulsing as she threw up again. The force made her cry out softly in pain.
"Oh y/n," Deacon breathed, dropping down beside her with Rocker on his heels.
She didn't seem to hear them. Her eyes were unfocused, glassy, darting wildly like she wasn't fully there. The room spun around her. Her head pounded like it was splitting open with her stomach violently twisting. She barely managed to lean forward before another heave ripped through her.
Deacon supporting her carefully so she wouldn't collapse forward. "It's okay, sweetheart. Let it out."
Her breath came in broken gasps between retches. The dizziness surged so badly her vision went dark at the edges. Rocker gently wiped her sweaty forehead with a towel, his hands shaking slightly.
Her body trembled harder now, cold and shock mixing with exhaustion. "I'm so cold."
Deacon quickly got rid of his sweater and wrapped it around her shoulders. When the nausea finally slowed down, she slumped weakly against Deacon's chest, breathing hard. Relief flickered faintly, consuming her heart. She was not alone. Not with Deacon and Rocker as her roommates.
Y/n lay back further into Deacon's chest, wrapped in his sweater. The cold tile seeped through the thin fabric of her leggings, making her shiver harder even though sweat still coated her skin. Rocker hovered close, one hand braced on the floor beside her, the other gripping the sweater around her shoulders to keep her warm. Deacon stayed still, just the way he was, steady and calm. She was not alone, not now, not ever.
I want to post my new SWAT fic but tumblr isnāt cooperating š I already split it into two parts because I thought 8.6k words are too long for one post, but even split it doesnāt work
Thank you for reading my ideas āØļø I like happy endings because I need some happiness š and since I am this age, I like the reader in her end twenties, but only if you are ok with it :)
* The reader is best friends with Chris and she invites hee to an evening with the Squad. Deacon finds her attractive but is not sure if she is interested in him. The squad decides to nudge him in the right direction.
* The reader is originally in a gang but not voluntary. So she starts to be an informant. After a while the whole team has taken her to heart. Deacon develops deeper feelings for her, but she does not think he likes her.
* The reader is the maid of honor at Hondos and Michelles wedding. Deacon and her have to arrange everything and get to know eachother. Sparkles fly and they do not go unnoticed by the whole squad. So Hondo and Michelle decide to pull some strings at the wedding, so they have to dance together etc. The squad being a menace in the background š
I am finished with my idea rant āØļø
Lovely Nonny,
thanks for sharing your ideas. There are not enough SWAT fics, thatās for sure.
Me for my part started my SWAT fics (Iām currently writing my second one) around my small universe. So unfortunately your brilliant story ideas donāt actually make sense in my SWAT world. Maybe another writer sees this post š¤
A/N: Can't believe I'm back at writing. I needed a long break but I had this idea in my head for so long and finally found the words so write. I'm very obsessed with Rocker and Deacon so I made my own little world around the SWAT series but I changed the story line. If you're not a fan of ooc or changing the universe's details, this will probably not something you enjoy. In my own SWAT world Rocker and Deacon are best friends, living together and Rocker being on Hondo's team. Just a warning: I NEVER WATCH A SERIES WITH MUCH PASSION, I only use the characters for my own little world of fanfic.
Summary: Y/n found a family in the SWAT team where she works as a forensics and technique specialist. In this one shot we have a long flashback how she ended to be the room mate of Rocker and Deacon.
Warnings: fire, smoke inhalation, hospital scene, hurt reader, fluffy, protective Rocker and Deacon (I plan on making more one shots in this universe which could end sooner or later in a poly romance, we will see, but every one shot can stand alone)
Word Count: ~4k
She feels the stretch of the familiar yoga pose, her forearms and both feet grounding her on the floor. Like a wheel y/n bends her body in the Chakrasana pose with closed eyes and a steady calm breathing. To most people her position on the yoga mat is looking more than awkward and painful, but for her it's the best way to start into her stressful day. Even if that means she has to be there early, before everyone else is strolling into the bullpen and ready to hit the gym. In the still very masculine world of SWAT and the police force in general y/n doesn't want to stand out more than she already does, so she is almost every morning the first person in the gym doing her daily yoga training before the teams are training their combat techniques or doing some weight training.
Y/n stays some more minutes in the Chakrasana pose until she feels like someone is watching her morning routine. She slowly opens her eyes taking in another deep but slow breath and is met with two sets of curious eyes.
"I told you she is a ninja with tiny spider sensors." Rocker chuckles at the other man's words but can't deny the truth behind them.
Slowly y/n presses her feet into the floor to give her legs a push and folds herself out of her position first into the lotus pose in headstand and finally into a kneeling position, eyeing the two LAPD SWAT Sergeants.
"Hey, good morning." Y/n greets in a soft tone, clearly relaxed after her yoga session in the calm gym.
"I can't understand how you can fold your body like this and be utterly relaxed afterwards." Deacon reaches out his hand to help y/n off the floor. "I hope we didn't interrupt you in the middle of your session but," he looks on his wrist reading the time from his Submariner, "it's already time for our sparring and you, my dear, are late today."
"Thanks, Daniel." Y/n says in her sweet voice when she takes Deacon's offered hand to stand up from her yoga mat. The younger woman saying his name always makes the grown man, the SWAT Sergeant who can take down a criminal in less than two seconds, getting weak in the knees.
"And you two could never disturb my yoga session. I mean it's the SWAT's gym after all and I for my part am just a guest here, lending two square meters every morning." Y/n blushes lightly when her eyes wander from one well-built Sergeant to the other. Fortunately for her neither of them is bare chested today. But the stretched material of their LAPD shirts around their broad chests and muscular arms is enough to make her even shyer.
A strong arm is finding its way around y/n's smaller shoulders pulling her gently into a much bigger body.
"Y/n, how many time do we have to repeat ourselves. You are a very important part of the team. Hell the most important part if you ask me and DAVID." Rocker says squeezing the woman into his body in a lovely way. Y/n doesn't miss Rocker's small jab against her using Deacon's first name like she always does.
---
Typing away what feels like more than hundred words per minute y/n sits in the tech room looking for blueprints of an abandoned warehouse and other important information she can pass to Hondo and the team.
"Hondo, I've got something for you guys." The young woman speaks into the headset in hope she is not too late with her newest insights.
"We can hear you, y/n." Hondo answers in great need of some more insight to end the ongoing raid successfully.
"I did some magic and now have some eyes inside the second warehouse. Three people are hiding there with what looks like a great amount of cash. I can't tell if it's the guy you're looking for because the cam I hacked into is very basic, but they're clearly hiding something and themselves there. I send you the blueprints of the second building and the possible escape routes."
"Thank you. The first building was empty so the second you found should do the trick."
"Tell me if you guys need anything more and stay safe."
---
A knock on the door of the spacious tech room brings y/n out of her thoughts. She closes her eyes for a small moment when the bright light which filters through the now open door stings in her tired eyes.
"Don, hey. The raid was successful? Everyone's fine?"
With a slight chuckle the tall SWAT Sergeant who is standing right before the smaller woman shakes his head. "Of course sweetheart. Everyone's fine except for the three idiots who couldn't hide from SWAT. Thanks by the way. With your intel we were able to get not only the guy we were looking for but also his two stupid goons."
Y/n blushes because of Rocker's designated pet name for her. Even if she should be accustomed by now she can't help herself or stop the familiar warm feeling spreading from her cheeks all the way up her neck whenever one of her favorite SWAT members using a little nickname.
Rocker steps into the dimly lit room which is full of computers and other tech equipment he gladly doesn't have to use thanks to his female colleague and places his tall figure on the side of her desk. He likes to study the younger woman's face, likes the way she blushes or shies away whenever he or Deacon gives her a compliment or calling her by a cute nickname. He likes her happy features, the way she talks and her positivity she always has no matter how stressful the situation is or how tense the whole team is. She always has the ability to keep them calm and collected. Since she joined the team two years ago they all made huge changes, but in a good way. She was exactly what they needed. Someone with a positive vibe, with a big heart and extraordinary skills.
"What are you up to?" The man asks looking curiously on the iPad in front of y/n.
"Oh just apartment hunting. I have two potential apartments and one small houseā¦" but she can't continue with her rambling when Rocker snatches the iPad out of her hands, studying the three accommodations before taking a deep breath.
"Jesus Christ y/n. Okay, let me get that straight. The first is a rat hole. Haven't you seen the small windows, it's like a cellar. No, it's more a torture dungeon. And what is this?" The older man swipes and looks at the second apartment y/n has in her short list, "Did you even check the neighborhood of this one?" Donavan shakes his head.
"It's the shadiest street in the whole city." He says with a huff, a shocked expression on his face.
Y/n lets out a loud laugh. Of course he would say so. She knew it. That is why she is apartment hunting in the safe space of her bureau away from the prying eyes of Don and Deac, well or so she thought.
"Don, that's ridiculous. It's not that bad."
"Y/n, do I have to get Deacon to confirm this? We had a call there just one street away from this apartment and I know this neighborhood from being a cop years ago. No way! Okay let's look at the last one." He swipes one last time, looking at a cute one story house, with a small garden. It doesn't look as bad as he likes it to be. But here it is, thank God, the dealbreaker.
"Yepp, cute little house. Nice for one small person like you, " he looks up from the iPad directly into y/n's eyes, "but, it's at the other end of the city. You are going to spend many hours in your car in the morning AND on your way home." With one tap he closes the app on the tablet and softly stores it behind him out of y/n's reach.
"And most important: why do you want to leave us?" He asks with puppy eyes.
As if on cue another SWAT Sergeant stops at the open door.
"You want to leave?" Deacon asks concerned entering the tech room and closing the door behind him.
Y/n takes a deep breath "Just what I neededā¦" She mumbles to herself.
"What did you say, sweetheart?" Rocker chuckles as she tries to hide her blushing face from the two Sergeants.
A little over six month ago y/n moved into Deac's and Rocker's spacious house more out of an emergency and great need rather than her very own choice. There was a huge fire in her apartment building. Extinguishing water and smoke destroyed most of the apartments which were spared of the flames itself. Luckily no one died in the fire, it was in the early morning hours when the blaring of the fire alarm rudely awakened the residents who didn't have to get up before dawn. Weeks later the fire department would declare that it was an electric fire which broke out two floors under y/n's apartment.
Y/n got away with smoke inhalation like many of her neighbors. But her apartment, her home she furnished and styled just the way she loved, is still unhabitable six month ago and there is no prospect of positive news from the owner of the building. From one of her former neighbors she heard that his insurance doesn't want to pay for the whole maintenance of the building.
Deacon and Rocker can still fell the bubbling panic in their chests they felt the moment they heard of the fire in y/n's apartment. The younger colleague called Hondo when she arrived at the hospital, which she tried to refused but the fire fighters and paramedics made it clear that she needed to be checked out after being exposed to the smoke when she and her neighbors fled from the flames.
If the situation wouldn't have been that serious it would have been funny to watch both Deacon and Rocker fidgeting nervously around the bullpen until Hondo finally had the mercy and sent both Sergeants to the hospital to see their female friend and colleague.
Flashback
Y/n barely remembered running down the stairs only the sound of alarms screaming, the hallway thick and black and she remembered the way every breath felt heavier than the last. Someone had wrapped an arm around her waist. A neighbor? A firefighter? She couldn't tell, everything blurred together.
All she knew was that she couldn't breathe.
By the time the paramedics loaded her into the ambulance, her vision swam and her chest ached like it was being crushed from the inside. With the oxygen mask on her face, cool air was rushing into her lungs, but it still felt like her lungs were full of ash.
"It's okay, miss. Stay with me." a voice said gently.
Y/n tried to nod but her body trembled instead.
Too bright. Her throat burned every time she coughed. Her chest tight and painful. Her body felt weak, heavy, like she was sinking into the uncomfortable ER gurney.
Her thoughts started to wander when the commotion in the ER cubicle suddenly changed into a cold loneliness. She knew the feeling of being alone with her pain, so nothing new for the young woman. With a cold hand she brushed the small tear, which made its' way down her pale cheeks, away.
"Y/n?" She knew that voice. Her eyes fluttered open. Deacon stood at her bedside, eyes full of fear. Uncommon for the always collected grey haired man. But he wasn't even trying to hide it. Rocker was right behind him, hands clenched into fists like he was holding himself together by pure will.
"Thank God, you're awakeā¦alive. You scared the hell out of us." Rocker said softly, his voice rough.
"I'm sorry," she rasped, holding down the tears that threatened to fall.
The other SWAT Sergeant reached for her hand carefully, like she might break. "No. Don't apologize. We've got you."
The doctors explained she'd be okay, severe smoke inhalation, irritated lungs, exhaustion, but no permanent damaged if she rested properly. In the few other she had to stay in the cold and uncomfortable ER cubicle for observation both men never left her side.
When the finally wanted to discharge her, it hit her like a brick: her apartment was gone. Well, fortunately not burned down, the fire broke out in another unit, but she was not allowed to go back to the building which wasn't safe. No one was allowed back inside.
"You ready to flee out of this place, sweetheart?" Rocker asked to lighten the mood.
But y/n just looked at her lap, playing with the hem of the scratchy blanket they gave her in the hospital.
"Iā¦ I don't know what to doā¦ the buildingā¦ I can't go back. At least not yet. Who knows how long it will take toā¦" she admitted quietly.
"You're coming with us. No room for discussion," Rocker said in his most imperious tone which only used in an interrogation or negotiation.
"You're going to stay at our place, as long as you need. We have another bedroom which is not used, anyway."
"I don't want to be a burdenā¦"
"Y/n," Deacon said firmly but kindly. "You're not a burden. You're our friendā¦ you're family."
The parking garage of the hospital smelled faintly of oil and rain. Deacon slowly drove his truck out of the garage. Rocker sat in the backseat beside y/n, one arm stretched carefully behind her shoulders to keep her steady as the car rolled through the busy streets of LA.
She was quiet at first, too quite if you asked both observant police Sergeants. The kind of quite that made both men tense instantly.
"You okay there, sweetheart?" Rocker asked softly.
She swallowed. "My head, it hurts really bad."
Deacon's hands tightened on the steering wheel. "Any dizziness?"
She nodded slowly, instantly regretted the motion with a wince. "My chest is still burning too," she whispered.
Rocker leaned closer immediately.
"Hey easy. Slow breaths, remember." He said gently, "In through your nose. Out through your mouth."
She tried. Y/n really tried. But the pain, the emotions and the memories of the day were overwhelming her. Her body trembled. "Iā¦feel like I'm gonna pass out." Black spots appeared in her vision.
"Hey, you're not. I've got you," Rocker said calmly, though his heart was pounding. He wrapped his arm more securely around her shaking frame as her head tipped towards her shoulder.
Deacon glanced in the mirror every few seconds, a silent conversation with his friend.
"If it gets words, we turn around. No arguments." He said.
" 'm 'kay. Just tired." Y/n whispered weakly, seeking the comfort of Rocker's body heat.
Rocker brushed his thumb gently along her sleeve. "You almost died today. You're allowed to feel like crap."
A tiny breath of laugh escaped her, then turned into a painful dry cough. Rocker was instantly reaching for the water bottle. Y/n's hands shook as she drank. The mood in the car was thick. Deacon's jaw clenched harder. He'd never driven so carefully in his life.
By the time they reached the house, y/n looked pale. Her eyes glassy, cheeks flushed, breathing shallow. Both men were relieved when the car finally came to a halt on the driveway of their shared house.
Rocker carefully helped her out of the car. The second her feet hit the floor, the world tilted.
"Ohā¦" her knees buckled. Fortunately Rocker caught her immediately. Her head fell against his chest.
"I'm sorry, I'm trying." She whispered weakly.
"Stop apologizing, you're doing great." The other man said firmly as he hurried over. They half-walked, half-carried her inside.
The house lights were warm and soft, a sharp contrast to the sterile hospital glow. As soon as they got her to the couch, y/n pressed a hand to her chest. Every breath hurt her.
Rocker knelt in front of her. "Your chest? Is it burning or tight?"
"Bothā¦"
Deacon was already grabbing pillows, propping her up like the nurse had shown them. After some minutes to regain more control over her breaths she looks up at both her friends.
"I feel like such a burden, It's patheticā¦"
"Listen to me, darling. Taking care of you is a privilege. You're family, it's what we do." Deacon explained in his calm voice, she loved so much.
Despite the efforts of the two SWAT Sergeants y/n didn't seem to get settled on their spacious couch. Deacon was the first one to notice her violently shivering under the soft throw blanket. He'd been sitting beside the couch, pretending to watch whatever was on TV while actually watching his friend. Her breaths were quicker now. Shallow. And her skin was flushed, cheeks pink but her lips an unhealthy pale with a bluish tint.
"Rocker," the grey haired man whispered.
The younger man looked up from his laptop.
"She is burning up." After Deacon's words Don crossed the room fast and gently pressed the back of his hand to y/n's forehead. "Damn," he muttered softly.
Y/n shifted weakly, a soft whimper leaving her lips. "Doni?" she whispered slightly confused.
Rocker was on his knees immediately, her eyes fluttered open, unfocused. "My head hurts so bad and my chest feels tightā¦"
Rocker's jaw clenched, worried for his friend and angry that of all people SHE had to endure such a traumatic event, now injured and in pain.
"Hey sweetheart, we're here. We've got you."
She tried to sit up but swayed from the dizziness which hit her like a ton of bricks.
"Easy there," Deacon steadied the young woman and kept her from falling over, head first into the coffee table. "How about we get you settled in the guest room and then doin' something for that fever of yours."
The guest room feels warm and quiet, not the sterile quiet of the hospital but the lived-in silence of a home that held laughter in its walls. Y/n swayed on her feet on the short way from the couch to the guest room at the end of the hallway. The lights in the hallway glowed soft amber, casting long shadows across framed photos. Old team pictures, candid moments of the three of them laughing on the couch, a snapshot from a barbecue where y/n had flour on her cheek and hadn't noticed.
Deacon gently guided her down the hallway. "Guest room is ready," he said softly. "Same one you always steal after movie nights."
She managed a faint smile. "The good mattress," she whispered quietly. Speaking loudly too painful for her poor throat.
Rocker snorted quietly. "You mean the one you refuse to leave in the morning."
The guest room, or in fact y/n's room whenever she liked to stay at her friends' house and not feeling lonely and unsafe in her own apartment, was just as cozy as it ever was. It's not like she lived in a dangerous part of the city but with Deacon and Rocker she always felt save. A feeling she never experienced before in her life.
Warm fairy lights strung along the headboard. A thick comforter folded neatly at the foot of the bed. Throw pillows she had once helped Rocker pick out because "they looked less like bachelor furniture". A small lamp glowed on the nightstand beside a stack of novels y/n loved. It didn't feel like a guest room. It felt like hers.
They helped her sit carefully on the edge of the bed. The moment her weight settled, a sharp wave of dizziness washed over her. She gripped the mattress. "Ohā¦ I don't feel good."
Deacon was instantly in front of her. "Talk to me, what's wrong?"
Rocker touched her forehead. Still warm. Too warm. He folded the blanket around her shoulders when they finally managed her to settled her down.
As minutes passed, her breathing grew shallow again. She shifted restlessly against the blanket. Her cheeks flushed deeper. "I'm really coldā¦"
"I know, sweetheart. But you have a high fever."
The whole night both men kept turns in checking their friend's temperature, made her drink enough water and hold her when she whimpered from pain and exhaustion. Time slowed. The room filled with quiet care.
---
"Well I guess I finally overstayed your welcome. It's been six month after all and I feel like I need to leave you two to your bachelor lifestyles." Y/n explains her decision for her apartment hunting.
After she was discharged from the hospital the two Sergeants nearly forced her to stay at their house rather than looking for a hotel near the SWAT station.
"Bachelor lifestyle? What bachelor lifestyle? We didn't bring any women homeā¦" Deacon tries to defend him and his friend.
"ā¦and we're super clean. Deacon is a real neat freak and I'm the best grocery shopper in the whole city." Rocker rises to speak.
A cute soft chuckle can be heard out of y/n's mouth. "Yeah, I know I know. You're the best roommates I've ever had. But that's exactly the problem."
Deacon and Rocker both look dumfounded. Y/n has a problem with living with them?
"You two pass on having lady visitors. I can't stick to the cleaning roster because one of you is always a step ahead of me. The fridge is always filled with my stuff Rocker buys for me. I feel like a burden. I don't want toā¦I don't know impose on you with my presence any longerā¦" Y/n finishes her speech and takes a deep breath. She feared this conversation for some time now and her heart feels more heavy than ever. Of course she doesn't want to move out. She loves living with her two colleagues, with her two friends. But she is afraid that their hospitality is going to be soon consumed and she fears that this will ruin their bond. On the other hand she can't help herself but wonder how these two Sergeants wormed their way straight into her heart in such a short time, especially after the horrible time she had in the last precinct she worked for and the severe betrayal of trust from her colleagues when everything went south. Being a woman in the police force is always touch and go. The fear of not being taken seriously, of being seen as weak. But what y/n experienced was a lot of more than just being seen as the weak woman in the team. It started with verbal harassment and ended in a catastrophic event which probably never will let her go.
Fortunately a senior officer, an old friend of Commander Hicks, helped her to get out of the toxic workspace environment and got her a spot with LAPD SWAT, far enough away from the still hurting events of her former precinct.
Except for Hicks nobody from her new team knows the cruel details of her past, her file is confidential, which y/n is more than happy about. Hopefully she can now leave the past finally behind her with her colleagues and her new found friends.
It took Deacon and Rocker a lot more effort to assure their female friend that she could never impose on them by living at their house. So their somewhat heated discussion with y/n why she has to remain their roommate is now long forgotten when the whole find themselves in their favorite bar celebrating the end of an exhausting week.
"And he really landed straight on his bum?" Y/n asks in disbelief when she hears Hondo's story about today's raid.
"Yes ma'am, I always tell the truth." The older man replies which earns him a soft slap on his flexing biceps.
"Heyā¦" he playfully complains.
"This was for calling me ma'am. In fact I'm the youngest and freshest at this table." Y/n laughs while rising from her seat beside Rocker, "Next round is on me."
Had a baaaad, really bad case of writerās block. I had (and still have) so many ideas, but the words were gone. But recently my obsession came back. I tried to write a little something and honestly got carried away.
After I noticed that there are not enough SWAT fics, especially with Rocker, I started a story of my own. Hopefully I can post it the next days.
Sorry for still not finishing my Top Gun fic, shame on me =(
Should I finish my two series at first? Yes definitely!
Do I hate these two series? Absolutely.
Did I start writing in the first place to bring these two ideas of mine to life? Yes!
Did I fail? Of course!
Wellā¦ do I have another obsession after @deaconskay wrote a wonderful Deacon and Rocker fic? Yes yes yes! Canāt get a SWAT idea out of my mind. So yeah, gonna try to write a SWAT oneshot. š
I wanted so badly to update both my stories before I go on my four weeks holiday road trip next week, but here I am, with two not finished chapters of Starting Over and a very small beginning of the next part of On the Brink š life was crazy the last weeks and I had so much to do at work, Iām literally burned out.
The chance of an update before my holidays is very low, so sorry!
Summary: A special day for y/n is just around the corner and her boys are trying to make it the best she's ever had.
Trigger Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI,hurt and comfort, injuries, mention of past bad relationship, a tiny little bit steamy but not really smut
Word Count: 3k+
A/N: I took me soooo long to get this chapter out, work was crazy and I had so much to do that I didn't find the time to write. I'm not happy with this chapter, not at all. It's just a small filler but it has to be done. The next chapter is going to be smutty!
A warm nearly hot feeling is enveloping Jake's chest when he wakes up from his nap. Slowly coming to and getting more awareness of his surroundings he starts to feel a vibration beside him. No, no vibration but shivering. Memories of the previous events flood his mind, y/n giving her statement, exhausted from reliving the memories of Welsh's attack, his girlfriend being afraid that they don't believe her, him cuddling with her on the couch and finally falling asleep. He opens his eyes and sees the source of the vibration against his chest. Y/n is violently shivering, her teeth nearly chattering. Jake peels his hands away from the young woman's back and wander higher up until he rests one hand on her neck. She is burning up. The blonde aviator softly cups her face which is pressed against his chest and tilts her head back to get a look at her face. Beats of sweat had already formed on her forehead. Even not awake y/n looks like she is in distress, in pain during her sleep.
"Y/n? Hey sweet cupcakeā¦" Jake strokes over flushed cheeks, trying to rouse her as softly from her nap as possible. He is greeted with a small moan which is immediately followed by a painful whimper when his girlfriend tries to pry open her tired eyes. The light which filters through the living room windows is way too bright for her head which seems like having a raging tornado inside. She fists Jake's shirt into her hands to distract herself from the pain radiating through her body.
"Hey my girl. Did you sleep well?" Jake asks in a loving voice admiring the beauty of his girlfriend even with sweat coating her forehead and her cheeks flushed from her fever. The blonde pilot places a cautious kiss on her lips. He would have never believed that he ever feels so much love for a woman let alone for Rooster. But here he is, madly in love with his roommate and friend and this wonderful woman in his arms.
He gets slightly concerned when he doesn't get a real answer from y/n, she must be feeling really bad.
"Your fever is back, y/n. I think you're ready for some more painkillers and something for that temperature of yours."
Bradley is brought out of his thoughts when he hears soft mumbling coming from the living room area. He just talked to Maverick over the phone who gave him some interesting information about both Fillon and Welsh.
He stands up from his seated position at their dining table and makes his way over to his partners, who are still huddled on the couch.
He crouches down beside the sofa cringing when his eyes land on the huge bruise on y/n's lower back where her, well his shirt, has ridden up. He exchange a concerned look with Jake who is already fully alert, cuddling their violently shaking girlfriend into his chest.
"Hey, welcome back." Bradley says before he kisses y/n head, inhaling her sweet scent. A soft 'Roo-y' can be heard but it's muffled by Jake's chest.
"What about you two, my sleepyheads, stand up now and I'm going to make us something to eat. You must be hungry." Bradley suggests while drawing patterns between y/n's shoulder blades.
---
Y/n was desperate for a shower, to rinse away the remaining memories of the disastrous interrogation she endured by the two Lieutenants of the military police. When the painkillers finally set in and took the edge away she gave Jake her best puppy dog eyes to convince him that she is fit enough to take a shower.
So here she is, clinging to Jake's wet body in the shower of the master bathroom. Droplets of lukewarm water cascading his muscular body. Goosebumps are littering her feverish body. The two conditions her boyfriends gave her were that she is not going to shower alone, which was no problem for her, she loves to shower with one or even better with both of the pilots, but the second condition is much more difficult for her. She has to take a nearly cold shower to help lowering her temperature. Even after taking her medication her body is still not able to fight the raging fever completely.
Two strong hands are massaging her scalp, washing her hair and soothing her headache. Y/n leans her body further into Jake's chest feeling his strong body deliciously close to hers.
"Baby, when you come any closer I can't restrain myself anymore." Jake chuckles into her ear, intensifying the goosebumps littering her body even more and now not because of the cold water but because she can feel Jake's member poking into her abdomen.
Butterflies are raging a storm in her body when she traces pattern on the blonde aviator's muscular chest while his fingers massaging the conditioner into her hair.
Y/n places soft kisses right above Jake's heart. She loves her two boyfriends unconditionally and this fact just manifests only more when she realizes how both take care of her without claiming something back from her.
"Gonna wash this out, it's getting a bit colder now, baby." Jake whispers into y/n's ear when he finishes massaging her scalp and before he starts to rinse her hair with the hand shower.
A small yelp tumbles out of y/n's mouth when more lukewarm water hits her head. She stumbles another step into Jake and his warmer Body, grabbing his hips to steady herself.
The cold water and the uncomfortableness is soon forgotten when she can feel his semi hard member now much better with no distance between them.
Jake looks down and is greeted with a mischievous but cute grin from his girlfriend.
When her right hand slowly wanders from its secure place on Jake's left hip right to his sensitive cock, Jake hisses and closes his eyes from arousal. But soon he catches the wandering hand placing it back on his chest.
"You feel that? You're going to be the death of meā¦" He chuckles while holding her hand in place to show her his rapidly beating heart. The blonde pilot takes her other hand and slowly lead it up to his face until his lips touching y/n's fingertips, slowly kissing all five digits of her left hand.
---
Enveloped in a fluffy and preheated bath towel Jake hoists y/n up onto the bathroom counter, a soft giggle escaping her when she drops her gaze on the small towel around Jake's hips. The small fabric clearly struggling to shield his still hard member from her prying eyes.
"I see you two had your fun?" Bradley asks in a playful strict tone when he steps into the master bathroom finding both his partners still not dressed.
When his gaze lands on the slightly flushed cheeks of the blonde aviator he is afraid that he too is sick now, that his cheeks are also flushed with fever. But soon he realized the real reason for Jake's bright red cheeks.
"This little vixen, too sick to help with the household, but fit enough to touch her nurse inappropriate." Jake says in playful banter, glad that both his partners are laughing, forgetting the stress of the previous days just for a small moment.
"Well, I can't blame her for that," the brunette softly laying his arm around y/n's smaller frame, "who doesn't want to touch a naked Jake Hangman Seresin?"
---
The following week was an up and down for y/n. There's still no sign of Welsh. Him being out there makes the young woman nervous. Is he out there watching them? Is he over the hills and long gone or is he coming back for revenge? Especially now that Lieutenant Fillon told the whole story he has with Welsh, y/n is certain that the psycho is going to make an appearance. The only question is when.
Her physical recovery is still taking slow. Some days she feels better than others. Over the last days she gained some more energy to even wander around in the house. On other days she feels like a train hit her. Even if she knows what side-effects her bruised kidney can cause such as pain, fever and blood in her urine, one night she was shocked to see the amount of blood in the toilet. She knew she didn't drink enough water that day and the amount of pain she was in during the trip to the toilet in the middle of the night made that very clear.
On shaky legs she finished her business but her strength was soon completely exchanged with excruciating pain spreading from her lower back into all fibers of her body. Sitting on the floor making herself as small as possible is how Bradley found her after he stared for several minutes at the rays of light from under the closed bathroom door which illuminated his bedroom.
His concerns only grew when more than ten minutes went by without any audible movement behind the closed door. So he tiptoed into the bathroom without waking Jake up and found their girlfriend in a concerning condition.
Y/n was more than ashamed that she once again disturbed one of her boyfriends' sleep.
Fortunately she was able to avoid a trip to the hospital and during the following days she got some of her energy back.
---
"Baby! Babygirl!...Y/N!" Jake softly stops his girlfriend from swirling her way further around the living room. It's two weeks since she has been released from the hospital into the care of her overprotective boyfriends. As much as she loves both of them after 14 days of them pampering her, she is bored out of her mind. So she made the decision to clean the living room, even if it was spotless thanks to Jake and Bradley, just to feel somewhat useful.
Y/n sneaks around the living area when both her partners are hitting the home gym, she finally could convince them that it is absolutely not necessary to keep her under observation 24/7, especially under the aspect that one of them will be back at work at the base rather than staying at home writing instructions for their recruits.
"I just wanted to tidy up the living room a bit." She says while Jake softly turns her smaller body around to face her completely. Tomorrow their friends, the whole Dagger Squad, are showing up, it's y/n's birthday and Natasha would've gone feral if either Jake or Bradley would've refused her to come and visit her friend. Y/n was able to convince both her boyfriends that they should invite their whole friend group. Because of her being injured Jake and Bradley are in great need to forget the stress for one moment and being with all their friends and colleagues will be the perfect arrangement, at least if you ask y/n.
Jake lowers his gaze to catch his girlfriend's sparkling eyes, a loving grin on his face.
"Cupcake, it's spotless in the living room. Heck, the house is spotless. Bradley and I did the whole cleaning yesterday, remember?"
"Just wanted to be helpful, useful. I feel like," the young woman looks down to the floor, the fluffy carpet in front of their sofa seems to be much more interesting as the man in front of her, "-feel like I'm useless. You two did so much for me. Not just after the- the incident, but in general. How can I ever pay you back?" Y/n lets out a long and frustrated breath.
Jake tilts her head up, softly stroking his pointer finger under her chin.
"Y/n, my love. You're the most important thing in our life. Don't you ever think that you have to pay us back." Y/n shrieks when suddenly the blonde aviator sweeps her up, his hands under her bum. The young woman embraces her legs around Jake's midsection while he searches for her plump lips.
---
Y/n feels a gentle tickling on the soft flesh of her neck. A warm hand strokes wisps of her silky hair out of the way. Soon she feels warm lips covering her neck in kisses a sweet 'happy birthday, Princess' is whispered into her ear. She smiles into her pillow, enjoying the morning cuddles of one of her boyfriends. She stretches one arm out but is greeted with a cold bedside. Jake seems to be long up, fortunately Bradley is still with her in bed. The young woman rolls over to greet the brunette pilot properly by placing her hands on his warm chest stealing a kiss from his delicious looking lips. She lets out a shy moan when his mustache tickles her upper lip.
"How did our birthday girl sleep?" Bradley mumbles against her slightly opened lips.
A shiver runs down her spine when she feels his arms tightening around her to bring her closer to his muscular body. She can feel his warm skin on hers, his muscles flexing when he starts to stroke his hands over her back, cautious not to touch her still prominent bruise.
The door to Bradley's bedroom, in which the three often sleep together, creaks open. Y/n breaks away from Bradley's lips to raise her head from the comfy pillow.
Like a Greek God Jake stands in the doorway. The bright light from the living area envelopes him like a halo. In his right hand he balances a small cake with a white silky looking cream sprinkled with colorful dots like small confetti, a single candle already lighted up. In his other hand he carries a suspicious lookingĀ turquoise gift bag.
The blonde bare chested aviator makes his way over to the empty side of the spacious bed, deposits the gift bag on the nightstand to secure the cake with the burning candle in both his hands when he crawls his way over to y/n.
"Happy Birthday, y/n!" Jake breathes out in a quiet voice, keeping the calm in the bedroom. The young woman sits up snuggling her back into the brunettes chest.
"Make a wish, Princess." Bradley whispers into y/n's ear, catching all her loose hair into his hand to help her lean forward towards the cute looking birthday cake.
---
She can't remember one birthday which was so filled with love and affection than this one today. More than a spiteful and hateful 'happy birthday' she has never gotten from Michael, her ex. When she is honest the most prominent memory of one of her birthday is five years ago. Michael was in an extraordinary bad mood this day and it only gotten worse when he found y/n in the small kitchen baking a cake for her colleagues at work. A small amount of flour was spread across on the kitchen tiles when the man entered the kitchen. It ended with y/n sporting a broken rib and painful burn on her hand when he forced her to get the cake out of the oven without any protection such as an oven mitt.
Today is entirely different, the three of them shared a big piece of cake while still cuddling in bed together, laughing and chatting the morning away.
A small tear is making its way down y/n's cheek, soon followed by more. A steady stream of salty tears drips into her lap when she stares at the present in her hand.
The cool material in her hand reflecting the rays of light which filter through the curtain. Y/n traces the heart shaped pendant with the pointer finger of her other hand. A small diamond framed with the well-known 'Return to Tiffany & Co." decorates the silvery material.
"Turn the heart around cupcake." Jake puts his under y/n's shaking one. Embedded on the backside she finds their three initials.
A load sob tumbles out of her mouth when she first looks into Jake's eyes and then turns around to look at the other pilot.
"This- this is too muchā¦" She stumbles over her words. This the most expensive, most beautiful present she has ever gotten.
---
The light mood which spreads in every corner of their shared house is nearly physical palpable. Y/n never have thought that she would ever have such a fun birthday with friends and all the people she loves and more important people who love her. Phoenix brought a huge helium filled balloon and the guys each brought a nice bouquet of y/n's favorite flowers. Bradley was the designated chef, grilling burgers, steaks and vegetables for his friends.
After a very nice sunset which they all enjoyed watching on the cozy deck of the three's garden the cold wind picks up, creating a deep chill in y/n's bones, so that she was thankful when Jake suggested to go inside and huddle in the living room together.
This was the longest time the young woman was on up and about for nearly two weeks and she can already feel the exhaustion spreading through her body. But despite her feeling more and more drained she doesn't want to let the good time end. When she is sure that she can't stifle the next yawn she makes her way into the kitchen to start the dishwasher.
---
"I guess we should hit the road. Our birthday girl can't keep her eyes open any longer." Phoenix speaks in a hushed voice. She knows that y/n would never kick them out even in pain or being utterly exhausted. So one by one envelopes their friend in a tight hug, silently thanking God that she seems to be on her way to recovery.
"Thanks for coming. Seeing you all was the best presentā¦"
---
"Okay Princess, time to hit the pillow." Bradley says while he envelopes his girlfriend in a tight hug, embracing her smaller body completely into his. Y/n looks up into the pilot's warm brown eyes, slowly stroking her pointer finger over his plump lips.
Feeling her soft finger dancing over his lips, Bradley can't stop the moan which tumbles out of his mouth. In a strong but nor painful grip he catches y/n's hand and lowers his head to place a kiss on his girlfriend's waiting lips. It's now y/n's turn to let out a shy moan when she feels another set of strong yet soft hands caressing her back.
"Making out without me?" The woman feels Jake's hot breath against the shell of her ear.
Summary: Tim and Grace have been neighbors and best friends nearly since the day she moved to LA. But one mistake drives them apart. When Grace is attacked in her own house will Tim be able to help her?
Trigger Warnings: Tim x OC, mentions of past bad relationship and cheating, mentions of miscarriage, woman attacked at home, violent assailant, moody Tim, unfair Tim, tears and sadness, fluff?, no Chenford!, no Lucy Chen!
Word Count: 13k+
A/N: Okay, that escalated quickly. I just wanted to get this idea out of my head and write a one shot, but it got longer than I wanted but I got carried away. Well here it is, enjoy (if you like). Reblogs are, as always, the reader-writer-love-language <3
With a sigh Grace lets herself fall back into the soft cushions of Tim's spacious sofa. Countless nights she has spent in the cozy house of her friend Timothy and today is no exception. When she first literally stumbled into the grumpy cop's life she would've laughed if someone told her that day that Tim is going to become her best friend, her rock or just her helpful neighbor. Grace was just about to carry another heavy box into her new home when the sweaty tornado of this attractive man took off for his regular morning run with his adorable dog Kojo. Deep in thought with a big box crushed into her ribcage she didn't pay attention to the upcoming runner on the pavement. Not only the heavy carton full of all her collected magazines dropped with a heavy thud on her front yard, no, the blue eyed stranger also found himself laying in a tangled mess of limps on the soft meadow of the woman's new home.
Instead of checking up if his master is alright Kojo happily greeted the new addition to his neighborhood. Laughing at the tail wiggling dog she asked the stranger if he's alright, but she got nothing more than a grumped mumble and some curse words. Just as Grace wanted to introduce herself the unfriendly stranger grabbed the leash of his dog and took off. Great first impression.
Some days later she was more than surprised to see the same unfriendly grump opening the door to the house right beside her. With a huge batch of homemade baked goods the woman wanted to introduce herself to her next door neighbor, not expecting to see the attractive but moody man she knocked down on her moving day. Fortunately his dog was still on her side.
Nowadays she can't imagine her life without Tim. Over the last three years she helped him through a lot of rough patches of life, he dried her tears and the two, no the three of them were inseparable. Of course Tim and Grace are only good friends and neighbors, but deep down she harbors feelings for the cop since the first day he was somewhat friendly to her.
Tim on the other side asks himself everyday why he deserves such a good and supportive and attractive woman in his life. After the whole disaster with his ex-wife he swore to himself to never fall in love with someone ever again. But here he is, in love with his best friend.
"Come here, baby." Grace pats the unoccupied place beside her, "Good boy, aren't you?". With a content huff Kojo lays his fury head on the woman's thighs, fully aware that Grace is going to scratch his head until he is fast asleep on the usually prohibited sofa.
Patting the soft fur is always some kind of therapy for Grace, she loves to pamper the dog.
"Why is it always Kojo who gets the most loving attention from you?" Tim says in his usual sassy tone. Grace feels her cheeks redden. She would love to give Tim the same loving attention as she gives his dog, but she knows that he is just her friend and neighbor so she bottles up her feelings one more time and even deeper into her already broken heart.
It's one of their cozy nights they spend together with Kojo in Tim's home and she loves every second of it.
---
Ā "All I'm saying is that I'm not sure if she is the right one, Tim." Grace tells her friend while shrugging her shoulders.
"You told me to get into the dating game and now I found some decent woman I want to be romantically involved with and now she is not good enough for me?"
Yes of course Grace encouraged her friend to get back on the horse so to speak, to have some proper dates and not meaningless one night stands. She knows that Tim is the relationship type he just wants to play the hard emotionless guy who doesn't need love and affection in his life. But Lisa, she's not the type of woman Grace would call relationship material. Weeks ago they were out to celebrate Angela's birthday. It was a nice evening in their favorite bar and later that evening this girl Lisa started to flirt with Tim. She was more than drunk and very unfriendly to all of them but Tim must've seen something in her that Grace and their friends didn't see and still don't see now weeks ago.
"I'm just worried, Timmy. I don't want you to get hurt. I don't knowā¦she doesn't seem like the woman whoā¦ I don't knowā¦" Grace tries to explain her concerns but before she gets any further the blue eyed LAPD cop interrupts her harshly.
"You tell me she's not good enough to be my girlfriend but you don't know why?" Tim huffs. Of course she knows why Lisa is far away from being good enough for Tim. Lisa is a good-time girl, always on the search for the next party. Every weekend she's out with her girls, drinking, partying and who knows what else. Tim on the other hand, well he is Tim. A disciplined man with a stressful job. How many times he told Grace in the last years how grateful he is for the quiet and cozy evenings they had together. He needs a shoulder a to lean on, a solid home to come to after a stressful shift on the LA streets. Not another woman who is intoxicating herself in the countless bars around the city.
"I just mean, she is always out partying with her friends, drinking andā¦" but Grace doesn't get any further with her attempt to explain herself. She feels that Tim's mood is getting worse and the situation out of hand.
"Ooooh, now I know," his voice growing louder which leads Kojo to let out a whine and burying his fury head further into Grace's shins, "you think I'm going to make the same mistake I did with Isabel. Got a thing for addicts. You think I'm stupid enough to let myself being dragged into another bad relationship?"
"Tim," Grace takes step towards her upset friend, "that's not what I mean. I just want you to be happy and yes, I'm worried that Lisa can't give you what you needā¦"
The taller man lets out another huff and takes a step back as if he can't stand to be near the smaller woman in front of him.
"And you think you know what I really need?" he lets out a sarcastic laugh which seems to stab right intoĀ Grace's heart, "YOU are the one with relationship issues, not me. You're the last person who can give hints and tricks for healthy relationships." Seconds after Tim spits out his last sentence he immediately regrets his words. Since the day Grace told him he should've take part in the dating game once again he was pissed off. He doesn't want to date, well except for his best friend. But now the only woman he has real feelings for is telling him he needs to start dating again, why is the universe so cruel to him?
He looks deep into his best friend's eyes, he sees the emotional turmoil he triggered with just two sentences.
Grace feels like she is stabbed with a hot iron directly into her heart. How dare he brings up her failed relationship, the reason why she started all over three years ago in a new city all alone. How dare her best friend opens up her old wounds one more time. Of course he is right, since she left her life behind her and started over in LA she didn't even flirt with a guy even if there were countless occasions. She is an attractive and kind woman, men turn around when she walks along the streets, they would line up if she would give them the chance. But after her last relationship, the betrayal, the physical and mental pain she endured she is still not ready to open her heart for another man. And of course there are these deep feelings she buried deep down inside her broken heart for her best friend Tim.Ā
Without another word she gathers her mobile, her keys and her purse and runs out of Tim's house.
"Gracyā¦" he whispers into the now silent room. Kojo lets out a growl and trots away, even the dog can't stand him anymore. He fucked up royally. Angela is going to kill him and justifiably so.
---
The weather fits just perfectly to Grace mood. Big cold raindrops are falling on her head like pebbles when she exits her car and steps out into the parking lot of Mid-Wilshire. She feels her heart picking up its pace, she doesn't want to be here, the danger of stepping right in front of Tim Bradford is too big and intimidating. But there is no way that she is going to knock on his door, ever again, after what he said to her last night. So there's no other way than to deliver him his wallet to the precinct. The moment she found his wallet in her bag sent a painful jolt through her system. They ate dinner at their favorite restaurant yesterday and Grace some kind of stole his wallet because she wanted to pay for their meals and otherwise he would have found a way to pay the bill so she just hid his wallet in her bag. But unfortunately their evening took a turn she never would've prospected. So here she is, stepping out of the cold into the Mid-Wilshire in great hope to just drop his wallet at the front desk without seeing Tim.
"Hey, our famous best-selling author. To what do we owe the honor of this visit?" a familiar voice rings trough the entrance hall of the district. Grace feels like a thief surrounded by a whole bunch of cops. Well she is surrounded by a bunch of cops but she is far away from being a thief. Either way she turns around and is greeted by a cheerful looking Angela. Out of all people she knows from the Mid-Wilshire it has to be Angela who catches her. Before she knows what is happening Angela envelopes her into a bone crushing hug.
"What are you doing here? Come on I take you to Tim, he is in a very bad mood this morning and I guess you're the only one who can cheer him upā¦as always." The female officer makes her way further into the station but soon notices that her friend doesn't seem to catch up.
"Ehm, noā¦I- I just wanted to drop off Tim's wallet. Can you give it to him, please?" Grace tries to sound as normal as possible but her voice breaks at the end of the sentence.
Angela immediately notices that something has to be very wrong especially when she sees Grace's tired face. Her normally bright and shiny eyes are now dull and held unshed tears, circled by dark rings.
"You look horrible, Gracy. What's wrong? Is there a connection between Tim's extraordinary bad mood and you looking like death warmed over?"
The young takes a deep breath when Tim's hurtful words are playing in her head once again.
"Just tired." Grace answers in a steady tone even if she knows she can't fool her way out of the situation, "He just forgot his wallet and I'm in a hurry." She pushes the deep brown leather item into Angela's hands.
"Yeah, sure. I tell him you said 'hi'." The female officer says with a smile.
"Probably not a good idea." Grace mumbles and turns around quickly before Angela can see the tears spilling over.
---
The door to the breakroom opens with a loud thud which leads Tim to spill half of his coffee. The rookie who waits to get his chance with the coffee pot looks into a very stern looking face of Angela Lopez. The poor young man exits the break room as soon as possible afraid to get into the bad book of Lopez.
"Are you out of your mind?" Tim asks while shaking the hot coffee from his hand, clearly annoyed that he spilled the hot beverage over his hand.
"Why didn't Grace wanted to give this to you personally? What did you do?" Angela shoves Tim wallet into his still wet hand.
He takes a deep breath. His wallet, Grace brought his wallet to the precinct. Shit, and seemingly got caught by none other than Lopez.
"Maybe she's busy. I'm not her secretary." Tim rolls his eyes, he doesn't want to have another argument with one of his friends and he knows that his reaction is leading him straight into exact that but he can't help himself and be the asshole he is supposed to be.
"Busy? Mhh, sure. That's why she looked like hell and was on the verge of tears when I mentioned your name. Don't fuck with me Bradford." Angela pokes her forefinger into her friends chest.
Tim feels a migraine settling down into his skull and Angela is not helping with it. He pinches the bridge of his nose before answering his female friend.
"Yeah. Maybe we had a tiny argument yesterday?!" The taller man answers uncertain because he knows that 'a tiny argument' is the understatement of the year. Out of wounded pride he brought up Grace's latest failed relationship and opened old and still not healed wounds. How could he have been such an asshole? Why did he brought back his best friend's saddest memories, memories she trusted him with. He is well aware that there are only two persons who know the real extent of pain she stored away in her heart.
Over three years ago Grace thought her life couldn't have been worse. Emotionally caught in a bad relationship she found out that she is pregnant from the man who she recently learned cheated on her. It all started with him getting more secretive about phone calls or text messages he got on his mobile. Until Grace accidently read an obvious message on his phone. He pleaded her to stay with him and promised her that this was a one-time thing, stress got the better of him he needed to blow off some steam. But it wasn't a one-off.
The day she wanted to finally break free from her emotional abuser also was the day she found out about her pregnancy. She just came back from the OBGYN who confirmed her suspicion when she found him and her best friend red-handed. But the two made her responsible for that situation and when she packed her bag and shouted in panic, pain and rage that he will never see his child the whole world stopped. She has never ever seen her ex in such a rage. He screamed at her to have an abortion immediately. He got physical, dragged Grace by her hair out of their bedroom where she was packing her bag to leave this hellhole. The young woman ended up at the foot of the stairs, shoved by the man she once loved. Her unborn child didn't survive the fall. Neighbors called the cops when they heard the commotion. Oliver was dragged away screaming and kicking, spitting insults all the while Grace was miscarrying their unborn child.
And Tim? He held against her that she has relationship and trust issues but coaxed him into the dating life. He was pissed from the moment Grace coaxed him into dating again. He never really wanted to start dating women. Deep down he always has wanted to show his best friend that she deserves a good man. Show her how he loves her. But his insecurities always get in the way. Why didn't he ask Grace out for a date? Why is he always fucking up?
Angela sees the turmoil in her friends eyes. She knows that Grace is the last person you can have an argument with. She is kind, collected, lovely and not the hot tampered soul you can argue with passionately.
"What did you say to her?"
---
There she is, alone in her home, alone with her thoughts and again alone with her pain. She trusted Tim, he was her best friend after all. From the grumpy stranger he became her nice neighbor with an adorable dog and finally he became her friend, her best friend in her new life. Now she is once again alone. The betrayal weights so heavy that Grace can feel it deep in her bones. Everything feels so heavy. But life has to go on. After crying for what feels like the whole day after returning from Mid-Wilshire she finally finds the strength to sit in front of her laptop and starts working on her latest article. Even if Angela always calls her 'best-selling author' Grace calls herself a journalist. She writes articles for several magazines and has some columns she has to keep alive regularly. Oliver always held her small even if she has a huge knowledge in a lot of fields, which makes her a rather popular journalist for umpteen magazines.
Grace loves her job and due to the fact she can work from home it was easier for her to move states and start a new life in LA without hunting for a new job. She finally feels like she has found a new home with people she can trust, friends. But now Tim told her what he really thought all the time.
Is she really that broken? Probably he is right, she is broken and destroyed from her trust and relationship issues. And even if she often regrets that she hides her feelings she has for Tim, today she is more glad than ever.
---
Tim was relieved when he finally could leave the district. The day was the longest he's ever had. His thoughts going wild and there wasn't a minute he didn't think of Grace. Angela nearly killed him when he confess what he said to Grace last night. He is definitely in her bad book now. And now Kojo. Usually Tim's furry friend greets the male cop when he comes home. A wet tongue and a wiggling tale is always the first thing Tim is greeted with when coming home. But today he's greeted with silence. No clicking paws on the hard wood floor. No wet nose that is poking his hand to claim some much needed cuddling. "Kojo?" Tim calls in the silent living room while getting rid of his boots. No answer, no movement nothing. His heart picks up its pace. Where is his hoggish roommate?
"Kojo? Come here." He tries again but immediately sees the dog laying in his basket. Just an unfriendly grunt can be heard from the chubby bulldog.
"You too, huh? Yeah give me the cold shoulder, I know I'm an idiot." Tim talks to Kojo while letting himself fall on his spacious sofa.
---
The last days were filled with the same routine: Grace stumbles out of her bed after another nightmare filled night or she didn't slept at all. Wrote some of her articles or columns, but most of the time is filled with being in her own head. The conversation with Tim, rather his harsh words are playing in her head over and over again. This morning is no exception. After taking a much needed shower to refresh herself after a night of tossing and turning she puts on a whole pot of coffee she looks out of her window to see that Tim's car is already missing in his driveway. So it was safe for her to get her mail without seeing the man she secretly loves but hurt her so bad with his words. The crisp air makes her shudder when she steps out of her front door, dark clouds are hiding the sun and the first drops of yet another rainstorm are falling on the pavement.
With a stack of mailing Grace hurries back into her warm home. "Bill, junk, junkā¦what the hell, do I look like I need a nurse at home?" Grace mumbles to herself while sorting out the mail, but stops dead in her tracks when she sees an envelope with her name and address written in a scrawly handwriting.
"Noā¦" the young woman whispers.
Some weeks ago she found nearly every day one of those mysterious envelopes. Some didn't even have content. But last week she got the first letter with an actual message, followed by one letter a day. The messages developed fast from strange to threats. Grace started to get concerned and made the decision to tell Tim, he is a cop after all. But then they had this nasty argument and she stormed out of his house without getting the chance to ask him for help with the threats.
Grace's hands start to shake when she reads today's message:
You would look so much better 6 feet under.
Stop writing your lies!
Whoever sends her these letters knows where she lives, they have her address and now they escalate quickly. She knows she needs to tell someone but Tim is the last person she wants to see or talk to right now.
---
The days went by without any more disturbing mail and Grace is finally able to distract herself with work. Writing has always been a safe haven for the talented woman, so she was able to finish some articles over last days. Unlike her work she feels like the rest of her life is once again in shards. She can't stop thinking about Tim and his words. The situation is slowly starting to affect her health. She is running on caffeine and water. Nearly every try to get some decent meal into her body ended with her feeling sick. So after the fourth day of feeling sick after eating a small handful of something she found in her home she resigned to get down a full meal. Dizzy spells and a headache are now her constant companion. In stressful situations it has always been difficult for Grace to look after herself and especially feed herself properly but the current emotional pain is a whole new level of escalation.
After finishing her latest column the young woman decides to take a much needed break and get some fresh air as long as the sun is warming the crisp LA air.
Clothed in her favorite jumper, which now already hangs loosely on her malnourished body she exits her house to clear her head.
It is a nice day but in the distance dark clouds are already forecasting another rainstorm. Grace looks at the sky at the clouds piling up like dark cotton candy, the fresh air streaming into her lungs.
Distracted by the twirling thoughts in her head she doesn't notice the tall man sprinting on the pavement making his way directly over to her.
---
Running should clear his head but the exact opposite is currently happening. Tim notices today more than ever that he can't run away from his problems. He needs to apologize, he knows that this is the only way to get his friend back. Heck to get back the woman he secretly loves. But just a cheap apology is not going to fix the situation. He had hurt Grace deeply, his own heart hurts when he replays his words in his mind. In what amount of pain is Gracy now when he feels he is suffocating?
At least it's not raining when he decided to take a run with Kojo this afternoon after he ended his shift. Kojo is not the biggest fan of running and he often trots some meters behind Tim when his master forces him to go on a jog.
The soft and rhythmic taps of Tim's running shoes and the steady bouncing finally occupies his brain and he feels light for the first time in days. Concentrating on the ground he doesn't pay attention to the woman slowly walking in his direction until it is too late and he crashes into the smaller body.
---
Grace doesn't know what hit her when she lands on the cold pavement with a painful thud, at least it's not wet from the rain anymore but this is the only good thing. She lets out a surprised yelp and she immediately feels her heart picking up. Has the stranger who sent her the threads finally made a move? Did he shove her to the ground to deliver his next message? She tries to keep her panic at bay until she feels a familiar wet nose poking into her right hand. She opens her eyes and looks directly into the warm eyes of her favorite dog.
"Fuck, Gracy. I didn'tā¦.I'm sorry. I didn't pay attention. Are you hurt?" Tim stumbles over his words when he finally realizes wo he hit while running along the pavement of his neighborhood. In front of him is Grace laying on the cold ground just as shocked as him. The only one who is able to react seems to be Kojo who is on the woman's right side licking and poking her hand to get attention.
Grace lifts her head further and is greeted with the blue eyes she fell in love with a long time ago. The same eyes who looked at her with disgust and rage days ago.
It takes her some seconds to answer Tim's question but it feels like she is mute for hours until she can form the right words.
"I'm okay." Her answer is short and not honest. She landed hard on the ground and she can already feel a bruise building on the shoulder she landed on. But being vulnerable in front of Tim Bradford is not an option. So she tries to bring her body into a sitting position but Tim is faster and kneels on her left side pushing her torso up. She swallows the wince when Tim touches her bruised shoulder blade.
"I help you up, Gracy." Tim says in a soft tone.
"I don't need help." The young woman says in not more than a whisper. She turns around and focuses on Kojo instead of Tim.
"Good boyā¦" She says while petting the excited dog. He lets out a whine and nearly pushes her back into a laying position out of loving excitement.
"He misses youā¦" Tim tries but stops himself to go any further. Is this the right time to apologize for being an asshole out of Hell? As if Kojo wants to emphasize his master's words he lets out a short bark.
"Good boy, Kojo. I miss you, too." Grace can't hold back her emotions for any longer when she feels her eyes watering up. A huge lump is forming in her throat, unshed tears wanting to spill over. She hastily kisses the adorable dog on his furry head and stands up as fast as she can. She has to go, she can't sit there any longer, in front of the man she loves and who hurt her just days ago.
A dizzyspell attacks her the moment she is back on her feet. The ground beneath her feet feeling like a wobbling floe. The last days without a decent meal is now giving her a hard time. She feels Tim's hands grabbing her elbows steadying her waving form. When her vision clears she takes a step back, shaking her arms free out of Tim's firm yet soft grip.
The very short moment Tim is finally close to Grace he takes the chance to study her features. Dark circles are surrounding her usually bright and friendly eyes. Now her expression is empty. Her face is sunken in, she clearly lost some weight. Tim wants to kick himself for bringing her into this situation in the first place. But before he can scan her any further she takes a step back.
"I should bring you home, you don't look so good." Tim says in an attempt to help the woman who he had hurt now two times in barely a week.
"Always the charmer, Bradford." Grace scoffs, she knows she looks like death warmed over with the little she ate the last days and the poor attempt to have a decent sleep, but she can't hold back the witty comment.
"That's not what I meantā¦Gracy. Let me help you." The blonde cop tries to rescue the bad situation but fails miserably when he sees his former best friend, the woman he loves, turning around. Her last words ringing in his ears: "I don't need your help."
Turning around to make her way back to her house the tears finally spill over, wetting her pale face. Not because of the pain in her bruised shoulder but the pain in her broken heart.
---
Grace is on the edge. Every stranger passing by her house could be the psycho that sent her the letters and the threats. When it started she thought it has to be a joke. Just some strange fan mail, someone who likes her work, well now she knows they obviously dislike her work, but either way she didn't think that these letters would escalate to the point that she is afraid to stay home alone. Now, with the sun slowly setting down, darkness is around the corner. She was never a fan of lonely nights, so she was thankful for the countless nights she spent with her best friend Tim. But now alone at home tiptoeing in her house listening to every noise, watching every shadow on the streets.
---
Tim is restlessly laying in his bed, Kojo at the end of the bed still mad at him, but who could blame him? He loves Grace just as much as Tim and with her gone for over a week and just the short encounter he had when he ran her over while jogging, the faithful dog seems to miss her more and more every day.
When Tim finally closes his eyes, exhausted from the day and the emotional turmoil the last days, the deep growl from the fur friend brings him back from his taking over slumber.
"Kojo! Stop it!" Tim groans, but his dog has other plan when he jumps up from his cuddly position at the end of the bed and runs out of the bedroom barking loudly.
"KOJO!" Tim jumps out of his bed to stop the outraged dog. His barking only got louder when Tim finally catches Kojo scratching at the front door. The tall man is out of breath when he finally can get a hold of the bulldog. "What's wrong with you?"
But Kojo only gets more agitated and starts to whine when Tim tries to pull him away from the front door. Something has to be in the front yard and definitely more than a rabbit or a cat. Cautiously and ready to fight a possible intruder Tim opens the front door.
"Oh my God, Gracyā¦" He gasps when he sees the real reason for Kojo's reaction.
---
A loud shattering noise wakes the young woman who just fell asleep on her sofa. She wanted to proofread one of her latest articles when finally sleep took over only one hour ago. Now she is wide awake her heart hammering painfully at her chest. Disorientated she jumps up from the sofa. Where did the noise came from? But before she can investigate any further something surprises her from behind, covering up her mouth and holding her body in place in a bruising iron grip. She shrieks and tries to wiggle herself out of the arms of the taller stranger who just broke into her house.
"You should've been more cautious. YOU SHOULD LISTEN TO ME AND STOP YOUR LIES!" A deep male voice shouts into her right ear. He is here. The man who sent her the letters broke into her house. She feels panic bubbling up inside her chest, blood rushing in her ears and her heart once again increasing its pace in a fight or flight modus. Without thinking she bites down hard on the hand that is currently covering up her mouth.
"You bitchā¦" The man screams in pain. Grace can free herself the second the stranger is disturbed with his hurting hand. She stumbles two steps forward but her right knee catches the corner of her coffee table with a painful thud. Too surprised she can't catch herself or brake the fall and her head collides merciless with the small table in front of her sofa. White hot pain is radiating from her temple into her skull, blinding her. She knows she has to stand up again but the sudden impact leaves her dizzy and dazed on the hardwood floor. A strong hand encloses her left ankle and pulls her whole body over the floor. Away from the coffee table and the sofa. She tries to fight the violent pull on her ankle, but her hands are scratching effortlessly over the floor until the stranger stops his action just to turn her body over. Grace tries to catch her breath when she feels a sudden pain in her thigh and then in her stomach. The pitiless stranger kicked her over and over again, producing big bruises on her thighs, stomach and ribcage. Grace's soft skin is slowly transforming into a painful landscape of bruises and bumps. She needs to act now, otherwise the brutal assault would soon lead to unconsciousness or even her death. The stranger suddenly stops and kneels beside the wounded woman.
"You finally able to cooperate?" He whispers directly into her face. Grace can feel his foul breath on her face. She smells cigarettes and alcohol, he is clearly intoxicated. Despite her spinning head and the excruciating pain in her limps and torso she knows it's now or never. She pinches her eyes shut, ready for the next pain when she headbutts the disgusting face in front her own. Even in her weak state she can be proud of herself when she hears the sickening crack of broken bones. The man falls right on his butt cradling his broken nose. Grace immediately turns on her side ready to bring her aching body into a standing position. The dimly lit living room is spinning and she needs the backrest of her sofa to pull her heavy body up. The backdoor is her only way out without running into the offender again, who is still sitting dazed mere meters away. Without looking back Grace stumbles in the direction of the backdoor which appeals further away than usual. But before she can reach the saving exit the weak woman once again tumbles to the floor directly into the thousand glistering glass shards of the broken window which the man probably uses as an entrance. Ignoring the pain from slicing open her right arm from breaking the fall Grace stands up and runs into her backyard. Barefoot and clothed in nothing but some skimpy silk sleep shorts and a top Grace runs straight over the still wet meadow to the dark house of her nearest neighbor.
---
The last thing Tim expected when he opened the door seconds ago is the sight of the woman he secretly loves bloody and beaten kneeling breathlessly on his doormat.
"Gracy!"
Her eyes are staring unfocused, her blood-smeared hands falling from their position on the door onto the floor. Her head now hanging low like she is about to pass out. The shocked man doesn't waste another second and kneels down in front of the wounded woman.
"What theā¦hey come here, I got yaā¦" Tim catches the woman's body before she can sink further down on the cold floor. Her bloody face now pressed into Tim's bare chest. He immediately feels the warm sticky liquid on his chest.
He needs to bring her inside and that fast. Before he scoops her up into his arms he takes a look behind her. His cop instincts kicked in immediately when he opened the door. The picture of her injuries, her being in nothing but her sleep clothes, barefoot out in the cold, she must've been attacked in her house. Did the assailant follow her? Does he need to defend himself and Grace because he was right behind her? But Tim can't make out a single soul in the dark neighborhood.
A scream of pain tumbles out of Grace's mouth when Tim tries to scoop her up. Her arms, legs, her chest, hell her whole body is in agony. Tears are wetting her checks and are mixing up with the blood which is smeared over her face.
"I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorryā¦" Tim hushes her. His heart is breaking for the woman in his arms he doesn't want to hurt her any further but he has to take her inside as fast as possible. Not only because he is afraid that someone might lurk in the shadows of the dimly lit neighborhood but also because he needs to get her cold body inside and get an overview of her injuries.
"T-Timothyā¦" he hears her soft voice moaning into his chest when he has her finally secure in his arms, taking her straight to bathroom due the blood she has all over her body.
"Yeah, it's me. You're safe, Gracy." Tim presses a soft kiss into her hair while he carries her into his warmĀ master bathroom, cautious of his dog wiggling nervously around his legs.
With a skilled handgrip he pulls the big towel from the towel radiator and lets it hit the floor before he crouches down and lowers the trembling woman down onto the warm and fluffy fabric.
Finally safe and in the warmth he starts to take stock of Grace's injuries. Angry red and blue bruises are already littering her whole body and he's certain that there will appear more in the next hours. While he cradles her head in his chest he has a good view of the bloody cut on her temple, even with the huge looking amount of blood on her face it seems like the cut is not as deep as to need stitches. Good. His eyes travel further down from her tear soaked face to her chest where she cradles her right arm. The sticky red liquid has also soaked her silk sleep shirt. He has to find the source of the blood.
"Gracy, let me see your arm." Tim tries to coax the still trembling and crying woman in his arms to show him her obvious lacerated right arm. Even if he wants nothing more than to kill the person who did this to her he first of all has to make sure if his friend needs a trip to the hospital or even an ambulance.
"H-hurtsā¦" Grace chokes out between painful breaths. Her ribcage feels like someone pokes it with hot iron such as her arms and legs. She wants to curl further into herself to safe her body from more pain. When the attacker comes back she needs to make herself as small as possible, give him as little surface for his attack as possible.
"I'm sorry, Gracy. I'm sorry. But I need to take a look at your armā¦" Tim breathes out cautiously untangling her injured arm searching for the source of the amount of blood on her shirt and her shorts. He makes out some cuts under the layer of blood, most of them not deep enough to require stitches. He slowly turns her right arm and finds two deeper cuts with shards of glass still embedded into the wounds.
Apparently the woman is not in danger to bleed to death any minute. Tim knows he has to call the District, Grey and he should probably inform Angela about the situation which just unfolded in their friend's house.
Tim tries to bring Grace into a more stable position on the bathroom floor. Shifting both their weight in the direction of the bathtub he leans the trembling woman against it. He needs to get his mobile from his bedroom table in the adjoining room.
When Grace feels Tim untangling himself from her shaking body she feels immediately panic resurfacing. Tim's leaving her. She will be alone, the attacker could come back and finish what he started. She whimpers and grabs one of Tim's hands squeezing his wrist like her life depends on it. Her unfocused eyes looking directly into the male cop's eyes. He's never seen his friend in such a state of panic, fear and pain.
"D-don't leaveā¦he's c-coming backā¦" Grace breathing picks up with the thought of Tim leaving her to her fate.
Tim cautiously puts both his hands on her shoulders to bring her in more upright position while leaning her body against the bathtub. "Grace, look at me. I just need to get my mobile. Kojo is here, he will look out for you, but you're safe here. We'll keep you safeā¦" He looks into her tear filled glazed over eyes.
"Just one second. I'm right back."
---
Actually Tim wanted to make the call without Grace listening but just as he promised her he was back in mere seconds making three short calls while sitting back onto the cold tiles of his bathroom to be near his friend.
Tim's phone calls were a blur for Grace. Her head pounding painfully feeling like a jackhammer was planted right behind her eyes. Her cut open arm throbbing in the rhythm of her still racing heart. With her uninjured left hand she strokes over Kojo's velvet fur. The faithful dog laying still beside the injured woman with his head on her thighs.
When Tim finally ends his last call in which he informed a very sleepy Angela about the things going on in his house he is glad he can apply his whole attention back to the blood-smeared woman in his bathroom.
"Grey send several patrol cars to search the neighborhood for possible suspects and they search your house. We gonna get you cleaned up now, sweetheart."
With a wet washcloth he starts to clean up the now dried blood on his friend's face. Focusing on the warm fury body beside her rather than the panic still bubbling in her chest helped Grace to get more coherent by the minute.
When Tim strokes the warm and wet cloth over her forehead a painful hiss tumbles out of her plump lips.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart. You have a huge bump on your forehead and a cut on your temple. I don't want to hurt you but we need to clean up the blood. Okay?" Tim cringes when he hears Grace whimper in pain. The last thing he wants is to hurt her further but he needs to clean up the remaining blood from her head and her body.
"I-I hit my headā¦" her explanation is once more interrupted by a painful whimper when Tim starts to clean up the cut on her temple. "ā¦on my coffee table. A-a-and I.." Grace shudders when she thinks about how the attacker caged her body on the floor, his breath on her face, "I gave him a headbutt, b-broke his noseā¦"
Tim stops for a moment and looks into his friend's eyes, definitely proud of Grace. "That's my girl. Do you remember anything else?" He doesn't want to elevate her stress level once again now that she is somewhat calm but he needs some more information about what happened in general and now she seems to be willing to share her memories.
---
"TIM!" a familiar voice calls through his house. A very agitated Angela gains entry into Tim's house with the spare key he gave her years ago in case of an emergency.
"Oh my God, Gracy. Are you okay?" Angela breathes out when she finally finds her two friends still sitting on the bathroom floor. Tim just finished cleaning up Grace who is still in a state of shock.
"Tim, are you both hurt? I thoughtā¦" The female cop panics when she sees the blood on Tim's bare chest.
"Hey, calm down. It's hers. It's Grace's blood. I cleaned her up. She had some cuts on her arm and a laceration on her temple. I sealed the deeper ones with steri-strips." Tim explains while he still cradles Grace in his arms. He wants to clean up the itching blood from his bare chest and wants to give his friend some clean clothes but his first priority was to keep her calm and safe. Now with Angela in his house and the neighborhood full of cops he can finally breathe again a bit lighter.
---
"She is resting in my bed now." Tim breathes out when he enters his living room area where he sees Grey and Lopez talking silently with two other cops from their Division.
"Good. Let her rest some more. We will be back for her statement tomorrow. Did she tell you what happened?" Grey pats Tim on the shoulder to give him some comfort. He knows how hard it is when family or friends are involved. And Grace is definitely more than just a friend for Bradford. She saved him from his demons Isabel left him with, she somehow made a new person out of the grumpy cop. Seeing her injured because she was attacked in her own home just mere meters away from him must've been more than difficult for Tim and Grey knows that now the whole situation slowly sinks in. Tim is blaming himself for allowing his friend getting hurt on such a brutal way.
"Not much. She was still in a state of shock when I finished patching her up. She just told me some bits and pieces. How she thinks that she broke this bastard's nose, that was the moment she took the chance to flee." he pinches the bridge of his nose, pictures of her bloody and beaten laying on his doormat are making a cruel reappearance in front of his eyes. He is sure that he will never forget the picture of Grace bleeding in his arms on his bathroom floor, whimpering an crying from pain.
"Fuckā¦" how he wants to lay his hands on the bastard that broke into Grace's house.
Angela takes a step towards her friend and squeezes his arm. "Hey, it's not your fault."
---
Fortunately Grey and Angela left him shortly after their short talk. He needs his peace and quiet and when he is honest he more than anything he wants the peace and quiet for the sleeping woman in his bedroom. Before Grey left, Tim announced that he will take the next days off to take care of Grace, heck he would take the entire year off to take care of the woman. He thinks about their argument which is now more than a week old. No, it wasn't an argument. Grace looked out for him, told him she's worried for his well-being and what did he do? Betrayed her trust with reopening her old wounds. With his head in his hands he knows that sleep is not going to get him the rest of the night so he makes his way over to the kitchen to get himself a water. When he passes by the closed bedroom door he hears whimpering and rustling of his sheets.
---
He is back. The stranger back and whatever he wants he came to take it. Six feet under, she would look better six feet under. He's back to finish her off. Big hands are closing around her delicate neck. Squeezing all the air out of her heavy lungs. She wants to fight back but her head feels fuzzy and her feet seem to be glued to the spot. She squeezes her eyes shut, she doesn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her fear, pain and panic in her eyes when he strangles her to death with his bare hands.
With a gasp Grace wakes up from the haunting nightmare which felt so real that even now that she is awake she can feel the stranger's hands around her neck. She tries to kick the tangled sheets away from her hurting legs but in her still panicked state the fabric seems to wriggle around her legs further like a big python does with its pray. She shrieks when she feels the mattress dip beside her. But instead of another threat she feels a warm and wet nose poking into her left arm and a bulky furry head softly plopping down her thighs. Kojo. She is safe. She is at Tim's. Slowly the memories of the night come back to her. She stumbled rather than running over to Tim's house. Thank God her cop friend was home and opened the door. He cleaned her up, patched up her injuries and helped her changing in one of his Academy shirts and a various numbers too big sweat pants which he rolls at the waistband to create a little bit of support on her slim waist.
Despite the knowledge that she is safe and the support she feels of the dog laying beside her, her chest feels tight, too tight to take a proper breath. She knows the upcoming feeling. Panic settles deep into her lungs, into her bones and into her soul. Grace feels a tear rolling down her cheek. She hates that feeling, the feeling of helplessness. Her body is betraying her, suffocating itself. No strong hands are choking her, its her own body which produces so much fear that the panic in her chest is palpable. Desperately she claw at the collar of Tim's T-shirt. But every attempt to loosen up her tight chest is not successful and slowly her vision is filled with white spots.
Another silent scream dries up in her throat when the bedroom door slowly opens, creating a halo of light around the person who's intruding her.
"It's me. You're safe. I heard youā¦ehmā¦ I just wanted to check on you." Tim sees Grace sitting in his bed Kojo's head in her lap when the light coming from the living room illuminates his dark bedroom.
"Can I come in?" The worried cop asks cautiously. It takes some seconds for him to realize that Grace is Having a full blown panic attack. Kojo nervously poking his wet nose into the woman's side.Ā He sees his friend in all desperation just to get some oxygen in her already weak body. Tim is now in a rush to close distance between him and Grace. Kneeling beside her as near as possible he takes both her hands into his warm ones placing hers on his broad chest.
"Sssh, I got you. I'll keep you safe. Feel my heartbeat? Feel my breathing?" He whispers into the bedroom which is filled with the noise of Grace's ragged breathing.
"C-c-can'tā¦" Grace chokes out, her vision slowly turning black.
"Gracy, look at me. You can do this. I got youā¦" Tim tries to get her back to focus on him and not on the upcoming unconsciousness.
She is safe here. Tim always meant safety for her. His heartbeat under the tips of her fingers creating a steady rhythm.
"You're doing good, honey. Some more deep breathes." Tim praises her when he notices her breathing slowly improving.Ā
I takes her nearly ten minutes to calm down from her breakdown. Her head now hurting like never before and her vision still fuzzy, dizziness slowly creeping back into her vision. She slowly lifts her head from Tim's shoulder, "Thank you." she whispers while looking Tim directly into his eyes which seem to held some unshed tears.
He tucks her back into his chest, cradling her head into his warmth. He has never regretted something in his life this much than the day he hurt Grace. The day he couldn't control his rage, the rage he had against himself for not being brave enough to tell the woman he loves, his best friend, how he feels about her. He could've lost her today. Lost her while the last words he said to her were disgusting and hurtful.
Tim notices Grace's body growing slack and her breathing deep and calm. She fell asleep in his arms. How he wishes this was his new normal, Grace sleeping in his arms. Sleeping peacefully without pain and fear. Just her and him sleeping in each other arms. But the reality was different. She fell asleep in his arms out of exhaustion and pain and the fear of being alone in the dark once again, threatening shadows lurking in every corner about to her hurt again.
Tim softly brings them both in a comfier position, laying her head on his chest while he envelopes her in his arms, keeping her safe from the outside world, giving her shivering body his warmth.
---
The pain of bruised skin, bones and soul is always worse after the shock of the events slowly faded away. Grace feels every bruise the stranger inflicted on her more than 12 hours ago. Just walking or sitting back down is a debilitating task but giving her statement was worse than every physical pain she currently feels. Seeing Tim face during her run-down of the events changed from rage, pity, sadness to what she would interpret as pure disappointment. She came to the point where she had to tell Angela, Grey and Tim from the threat letters she received weeks ago and how they escalated quickly to the point of no return. When Grace explained that she wanted to tell Tim the evening he lost it in front her, the cop couldn't take it anymore and stormed out of his house. Grace knew when she shares this information her (former?) best friend would be pissed at her but his reaction scared her none the less.
---
"Hey, he will calm down, Grace." Angela stayed after Grey went back to the District after he got all information from Grace.
With trembling fingers the young woman tries to dry her tear soaked face. "I-Iā¦I wanted to tell him. Wanted to get help because the last letters really scared meā¦But then he was so mad at me that eveningā¦" Grace shakes her head, breathing deeply to calm herself down. Another embarrassing panic attack is the last thing she needs right now.
"He's not mad at you. He is mad at himself. He blames himself for what happened to you." Angela envelopes the other woman in a hug, "You're going to be okay."
The stress from giving her statement, the memories which brought it back and Tim running out on her is making her dizzy and she knows she is due to another round of painkillers and at least some rest.
---
With a pounding headache Grace lets herself plop down on Tim's cozy sofa. Fortunately Angela had to drive back to the District. They all working hard to get the man who broke into their friend's apartment.
Even after taking the much needed painkillers Grace's head is still throbbing painfully and her whirling thoughts are not helping. With her head in her hands she feels a furry head and a warm nose poking into her shin. At least Kojo is here and keeping her company.
---
Four long hours. Four torturing long hours ticked away since Tim left his house without further explanations. Only five minutes ticked away since Grace made the decision to pack her few belongings Angela brought her over from her house since it's still a crime scene. Some toiletries, clothes she would need for the next days and her mobile. Fuck, her car keys are still in her house, so she would have to call an Uber to get to the next hotel in town. She feels fear and dread pooling in her stomach at the thought of being completely alone in a hotel room at night but staying at Tim's is no longer an option even if she feels safe here. Grace doesn't want to stress the cop any further with her presence. She grabs her back hissing from the pain of her various big bruises the maniac inflicted on her body and stumbles in direction of the front door. Kojo never left her side since they were alone in Tim's home and now that she has packed her bag and is seemingly about to leave the dog lets out deep growls. Not threatening noises but clearly noises of disagreement.
"I'm sorry buddy, but your daddy is not happy with me here anymore." Grace crouches down to the growling dog but lets herself down on her knees due to severe dizziness.
"Okay, just one minuteā¦" Whether she convinces herself or the dog, she doesn't know. White noise is filling her ears and she feels her heartrate picking up from the stress and painful position on the floor.
---
Yepp, Tim fucked up once again. Angela gave him an earful when he makes an appearance at the District later that day. Why did he leave Grace home alone? Why did he storm out of his home while his friend reliving her memories of the night she was attacked in her own home? Why is he always a fucking moron? He had no answers but of course Angela had.
"YOU HAVE TO FIX THIS, TIM! Jesus Christ help meā¦" Tim still hears her words on his way home. "You know, I know, EVERYBODY knows that you two idiots like each otherā¦more than friends. Why are you destroying not only your friendship with Gracy but also destroying the tiny chance that this wonderful woman will hear you out when you are finally going to confess her your feelings?!"
Confess his feeling. Should he confess his feelings after he hurt her that bad over a week ago and after he just hurt her one more time today when she needed him the most. He remembers how content he felt last night when he was finally able to hold her in his arms. "Man up Bradford!" He mumbles when he parks his truck in his driveway. When he nears his front door with his keys in hand the first thing he hears is Kojo's agitated barking. Is the scumbag back ? Did he find Grace at his home? Immediately his cops instincts are on high alter when he enters his house. Clearing the hallway Tim is surprised when he doesn't see any signs of a fight or even any evidence of invasion. He steps further into his house nearing the noise of his barking dog.
"Oh noā¦" The cop breathes out when he sees his friend kneeling awkwardly on the living room floor. Immediately Tim falls down on his knees beside Grace and lays his hands on her shoulders.
Startled by the sudden touch her head shoots up and a shriek leaves her plump lips.
"Easy, it's me." Tim tries to catch her when Grace falls backwards not able to catch herself because of her swimming head.
While holding the young woman up and preventing her from falling further Tim examines her environment. Why is she on the floor? Did she hurt herself? His eyes fall on her duffle bag and her mobile directly beside her on the floor.
"Let's get you up, Gracy. Come onā¦" Before he interrogates her what her plan was with her packed bag and her mobile in hand he picks her up bridal style and carries her to the sofa. The young woman buries her head into his shoulder clearly seeking comfort.
Cautiously he lets the trembling woman down, sitting beside her to hold her up.
"Did you hurt yourself, honey?" Tim tries to bite his tongue. Honey? She is not your 'honey' you moron. But Grace doesn't seem to notice him calling her pet names.
"D-dizzyā¦Wanted to goā¦" Grace stuttered when she slowly lifts her head to take a look at the man who holds her in his warm embrace.
Tim is dumfounded by his friends words. She wanted to go, leave the safety of his home and go?
He shifts his body to get more distance between him and Grace but soon lifts his hands to cup both her cheeks, cradling her head in his soft yet big hands.
"You wanted to go? Butā¦Grace, you're hurt, this scum is still out there. Whyā¦?" Tim whispers with more emotion in his words as ever.
His hands on her cheeks with his thumbs softly stroking her cheeks feels so calming yet they are going to have a serious conversation right now. Grace wants just to stop the clicking clock at the far end of the living room wall to just preserve that intimate moment with Tim Bradford. But she knows he is waiting for her to talk. She closes her eyes, his deep blue eyes too distracting to form a coherent sentence.
"I wanted to be out of your hair. You were so mad at meā¦I'm sorry for not telling you soonerā¦" her voice breaking at the end of the sentence and it takes Grace some seconds to get her voice back.
Is he dreaming? Grace just apologized to him. TO HIM. To the moron who is responsible for the mess his friend now finds herself in. He looks into Grace's face. He sees her pinching her eyes close the crease on her forehead a clear indication that she feels unwell. He notices her trying to calm down her breathing and ground herself but her trembling body is giving her away.
"Grace, please look at me." He talks in a calming voice but instead of opening her eyes the young woman in front of him tries to shy away from him. "Please, Gracy. Open your eyes, look at me." He tries again and with soft but firm touch he tilts her head up. Her big eyes are full of fear and unshed tears when she finally manages to open them and looking deep into Tim's ocean blue eyes.
"I was- I am an idiot. It's me who has to apologize. For everythingā¦" he takes a deep breath while stroking his hand softly over Grace's pale cheeks, "I was not mad at you for not telling me, I stormed out, because I couldn't take it anymore. I am to blame for this whole mess. For you being hurt, for every nightmare, for the pain you're in. I should've protected you, instead I hurt you. I AM SORRY. Gracy!"
A big tear is making its way down Grace's face. Tim said sorry. Those words she needed to hear so badly for over a week, instead she blamed herself because this is what she always does, how her ex taught her. She has never heard an apology which she believed so easily. She knows Tim is not a man who shows his emotions that easily. But his eyes spoke for him while his mouth formed the words.
"Please, say something. Please forgive me. I can't lose you, Gracy." Tim starts to get worried. No he gets fucking nervous. The woman in front of him stays silent. His heart is hammering. It feels like a jackhammer is trying to open his ribcage to free all his built-up emotions he feels for his best friend. Grace's head is swimming, the room is spinning and she tries to build up the courage to say something to the blue eyed cop in front of her. Of course she forgives him, he is her best friend after all and she loves him with every fiber of her body but that fact is going to stay inside her head.
Tim feels his friend swaying in the sitting position on his couch. His hands wander from her head to her shoulders to steady her further.
"Are you still staying with me, Gracy?" Tim asks. He knows she needs to rest. Her body is slowly shutting down and the emotional stress is just adding up on her plate right now.
Grace slowly nods her head but she has to shut her eyes because the room is just spinning faster with the motion of her head. But she gathers all her strength to give Tim the long-awaited answer.
"I want to stay. I've never felt safer than with you." With that minimum of confirmation Tim closes the distance between the two and finally envelopes the trembling woman into a hug, cradling her body into his.
---
After some minutes of them hugging each other Tim felt her body growing weaker so he didn't waste any more time and carried his friend back into his bedroom.
Feeling the warm comfort of Tim's bed and her exhausted body is giving the chance to rest Grace let's out a small sigh. While opening her eyes she feels the mattress beside her dip.
"So you wanted to take it on the lam and steal one of my sweater on your way?" Tim chuckles softly when he sees Grace still wearing one of his LAPD sweaters with his Name embroidered on it. He could get used to seeing Grace in his in his clothes.
"It's comfy and warmā¦smells like you. I like your smell. Loveā¦love your clothes." Grace says in a slight slur clearly deteriorating by the second. 'And I love you' was on the tip of Tim's tongue. His heart still beating rapidly. A blush creeps up from his neck all the way up to his cheeks warming his face further.
"Get some rest, Gracy." Tim says after clearing his throat awkwardly. But before he can stand up he feels a small and clammy hand gripping his. He looks back down on the woman who is laying in his bed, even on his side of the bed where he normally sleeps, but he couldn't care less. He would sleep on the floor for the rest of his life just to ensure that Grace is safe.
"Can- can you stay? Lay with meā¦afraid." Grace opens her eyes once again getting lost in the blue ones which are watching her intently. Her voice is nothing more than a whisper, her last word nearly not audible.
---
After discarding his clothes hastily on the chair beside his wardrobe Tim crawls into the empty space beside Grace but keeps a safety distance. He lays on his back staring at the ceiling of his bedroom until he feels the woman on the other side of the bed turning around.
"Tim?" He hears a small voice whispering into the dark. "You asleep?"
He chuckles lightly at her question. Even if he would've been asleep by now her question would have woken him up as the light sleeper he is. "No, Gracy. No I'm not." He also turns on his side to look at his friend.
"Can- can I come closer to you?" She asks shyly, almost embarrassed. But her hazy mind is craving comfort. Whenever she closes her eyes she sees images of her being attacked at her home mixing up with the horrible night she had years ago when her ex shoved her down the stairs .
Grace closes her eyes afraid to look at Tim when he turns her down. But despite her fear of his rejection she feels him coming closer and finally pulling her into his broad chest. Her head instantly settles over his heart, hearing his thrumming heart she wonders why it's beating so fast. But rather sooner than later the exhaustion makes her eyes falling shut, in the arms of the man she is so deeply in love with.
---
Her smaller body fits perfectly into his arms. With her head resting on his chest he smells the intoxicating odor of her hair. It always smells fresh but sweet. And now so close to her he takes a deep breath as if he wants to breathe in every shade of this smell to remember it later.
He always felt a dangerous pull, like some invisible power makes it impossible for him to stay away from his friend.
He places a feather light kiss on Grace head and now he can't hold his tongue and whispers a small 'I love you' into her silky hair. He feels her hand fisting his shirt tighter after he mumbled his confession. She couldn't have heard it, could she? She is asleep, isn't she?
---
"She is still asleep." Tim explains to his cop friend while pointing in the direction of his bedroom. When he woke up in the early morning hours still feeling the smaller body of Grace pressed into his side he felt the great urge to lay there and just enjoy the feeling of her warm body beside him. But the buzzing of his phone indicating that he has a text message.
So now here he is, with Angela in his kitchen preparing coffee himself and her.
"So, she is asleepā¦in your bad? You have a guestroom haven't you?" The young woman teases her friend, knowing exactly which buttons she has to press to make Tim squirm.
The male cop takes a long breath turning around to face his female friend.
"Angelaā¦" he breathes out,"we had a small incident yesterday?"
"Is this a question, Timothy?" Angela laughs, totally happy with Tim' creeping blush.
"When I got home I found her in a bad shape, kneeling on the floor. On her way out. With a packed bag and all." Tim massages his temples to get rid of the tight feeling in his head.
"Oh my God. Is she okay?" Angela gasps, not aware that Grace is feeling that bad actually.
"Yeah, I had the chance to apologize. I just wanted her to be safe and the best shot was my own bed and not just dumping her in my guestroom."
---
With a painful groan Grace slowly opens her eyes immediately blinded by the soft glow of daylight which filters through the closed curtains. The young woman closes her eyes in a second taking a deep breath now greeted with more pain spreading from her sensitive ribcage in every fiber of her body, a clear reminder of the brutality of her attacker. But there's also something which she notices the second she inhales deeply. The strong yet familiar odor of fine wood and masculine musk and some sweet fruits, a hint of citrus. Grace slowly turns on her side away from the windows and the harsh light which would hurt her pounding head only further. Burrowing her head into a soft pillow she gives it another try and opens her eyes. She is in Tim's bed. She immediately notices that this is not his guestroom. So last night wasn't a dream. She was really carried into Tim's bed and asked him pathetically if she can snuggle up.
---
It took her more than ten minutes to get her aching body out of the bed and even more time to fresh herself up in the bathroom. On wobbly legs Grace makes her way out of Tim's bedroom, using the wall or turned up furniture to steady herself. The kitchen and the adorning living are quiet. No sign of Tim and no sign of Kojo. Grace freezes in the middle of the living room. He went away again. Snuggling up to him last night must've been too much for him. Why was she so stupid and let her emotions get the better of her? For God's sake he has a girlfriend, or so Grace thinks. Last week he made it clear what he sees in her and what did she do? harassing him her sleeping in his bed and snuggling up.
Grace hugs her arms around her trembling body like she wants to shield herself from what is to come. She feels the blood draining from her pounding head, making her dizzy. But she doesn't know what she to do. Is Tim coming back? Is he waiting for her to move out? Is he telling her when back that he wants her so leave? To let him have his happily ever after.
When the front opens and a tail wiggling Kojo leads Tim into the house Grace is completely zoned out. She doesn't hear Kojos paws clicking on the hardwood floor, she doesn't hear his soft bark and his nose softly poking into her shin.
"Hey, you're up." Tim greets her in a light tone. There's no answer from the woman standing in the middle of his living room.
"Gracy?" He takes a step further into room after discarding his shoes and Kojo's leash.
When Tim is standing directly in front of his friend he immediately notices her ghostly pale face, her trembling arms hugging her torso and the empty look in her eyes. The cop softly touches Grace's shoulder afraid she would collaps any second.
"Gracy? You with me?" He asks now louder.
Finally the woman in front of him comes out of her trance-like stupor but before she can react in any way her kneels buckle.
Tim is fast to catch the still trembling woman, thank God for his cop instincts.
He leads her slowly to the couch and tucking her into his chest but still having a close eye on her face.
"Hey, Grace. Look at me." Tim tilts her chin to emphasize her to look at him properly.
"Timothy, I'mā¦I need to apologizeā¦" her heart starts to beat painfully fast in her ribcage.
"Grace.." Tim tries to interrupt her. Why would she apologize. She did nothing wrong.
"No please let me finish. I'm sorry for yesterday. I shouldn't have force you toā¦ I shouldn'tĀ have ask you to hold me. I'm sorry, I didn't want to make uncomfortable and with Lisaā¦"
Tim can't believe his ears. She really thinks she made him uncomfortable with her wanting to be close to him? With Grace in his arms, safe and warm, it was the best night he had in a long, he's ever had maybe.
He softly starts to caress Grace pale cheek. His thumb tracing a line under her eye. The contact makes her shiver even if she doesn't want to show a physical reaction to the touch she craves for so long.
"Gracy, you didn't make me uncomfortableā¦" Tim starts. Man up Bradfort, he hears Angela shouting in his head at him.
"I wanted to hold you. Iā¦I want you close to me, like I want you even closer to me." He looks her deep into her eyes. A sweet crease is building between her eyebrows in confusion.
"Whatā¦what do you mean?" Grace feels her heart running away and her lungs to cramp up like someone holds it in a vice grip.
Tim's sight wanders from Grace's eyes to her plump lips back to her eyes.
"The only thing I've ever wanted is to hold you close since the day I landed on your front yard. It sounds cheesy, fuck. I can only be a grump or a cheesy idiot." He chuckles while his eyes wander one more time to Grace now slightly open lips.
"I like a grumpy cheesy idiotā¦" Grace whispers, still not sure if this is a dream. The man she is secretly in love with just told her that he only ever wanted to hold her close. What does this mean? He likes her? But before she can spin further into an insecure mess she feels soft lips touching hers. He is kissing her. Tim is kissing her. Tim Bradford is kissing her and the only she can mumble is: "Lisa?" and with a gasp the kiss ended sooner than one of them wanted.
"I never really dated her, because you was right all the time. She is not the right one for me." And with this twenty words Tim once again closes the distance and places a kiss on Grace's lips.
"Go on a date with me and I show you how sorry I am for what I said to you." The blonde cop says slightly afraid to hear the woman's answer.
"Just to show how sorry you are?" Grace answers in a trembling voice.
"No, to show you how deeply I fell for you and what an idiot I was for not telling you sooner."
He sees a small smile forming on Grace's kissable lips.
"Okayā¦" She whispers still afraid she would wake any moment.
"But first of all, we're nursing you back to health."
---
After feeding her some breakfast and painkillers he finally told her the good news Angela had for him during her visit this morning.
They were able to get some handprints from the attacker and fortunately he was already in the system.
"He threatened two other journalists in the last year but there wasn't enough to charge him with something. But now he's in custody." Tim explained to Grace wo was now laying on his comfy couch, with Kojo resting happily by her feet. Even the dog has the huge urge to protect his female neighbor.
"So a poor lunatic living in some weird tinfoil head theory didn't like my articles and thought it would a good idea to break into my house?" Grace says clearly irritated by the new won discovery but she is also glad that the man is in custody. "That means I can go back into my houseā¦ I mean it's safe out there again."
Tim takes in a sharp breath, he doesn't think that far. Of course she can go back, there's no thread anymore. But she is still injured, yes she NEEDS to stay at his.
"It never safe out there, sweetheart." Sweetheart? Is he allowed to call her that, when he just confessed his feelings to her. Well, she doesn't protest so Tim continues, "And you're injured. Iā¦please stay here, Gracy. Just until you're back on your feet. And then I'm going to pick you up at your front door for a proper date." He grins mischievous.
"That sounds like a good plan, nurse Bradford." Grace softly replies in between a small yawn, despite the pain and tiredness that has settled deep into her bones she feels happy and safe and when Tim cautiously lays her head in his lap and starts to stroke her hair she falls asleep, a conent sigh is the last thing Tim hears.
Summary: Y/n has to give her statement but Welsh has another ace up his sleeve.
Trigger warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, hurt and comfort, injuries, assholes, inaccurate knowlegde about the Navy
Word Count: 4k +
A/N: I can't believe I already have written 22 chapters of my first fiction. I hope you like it. Thank you so much for all the support and thanks for reading :)
The strong scent of fresh grounded coffee beans is filtering from the kitchen into the living room and is slowly spreading in every room. Soft clattering of plates, cutlery and mugs can be heard in the kitchen when Jake makes his way out of the master bathroom after his refreshing shower. The night and its events still lingering in his bones he wanted to let off some steam in their home gym but the blonde aviator decided that a cold shower has to be enough and that spending the morning with Bradley and y/n is more important than him hitting the gym.
When Bradley hears quiet shuffling coming from the living room he turns around and a soft smile spreads over his lips when he sees Jake making his way over, his bare chest catching droplets of water which are occasionally dripping down from his still wet hair.
"All shirts in the wash, Seresin? Or are you trying to seduce me?" The brunette man chuckles while taking a step into Jake's direction and placing a soft kiss on the other man's cheek.
"Wellā¦it's been a while." Jake winks in his cocky attitude which Bradley learned to love over that last month.
The blonde grabs himself a mug of the fresh brewed coffee and leans against the kitchen counter casting a glance at Bradley. Despite their cocky banter seconds ago he immediately sees worry in the eyes of the brunette aviator. The night was hard for all three of them. Not only for him because of his dream and for y/n because of her injuries and him hurting her by accident, the very thought of it lets Jake shudder. It also has to be difficult for Bradley.
Jake makes his way over to his boyfriend, leaving the steaming cup of coffee behind on the counter.
"I'm sorry, forā¦you know, last night." Jake mumbles, dropping his gaze to his sockless feet until he feels strong and warm hands embracing him in a hug. He feels Bradley's muscular but not shirtless chest pressing into his naked chilly skin. His scent is intoxicating and calming. The physical contact is what he craved the second he got out of bed.
"There's nothing you have to apologize for, Jake." Bradley emphasizes while he draws patterns on the other man's back. Jake can't help himself but shudder when he feels the brunette's fingertips lazily stroking over his naked skin. Goosebumps are spreading over his whole body. In any other situation he would takes this further into the bedroom, involving their girlfriend in their fondlings. But he is still shaken from the nightmare, y/n is injured and probably in pain and due for another round of strong pain killers and Bradley also looks more than worn out with dark circles under his warm brown eyes.
All too soon both end their loving hug but not before stealing a kiss from one another.
"Mav called earlier. He asked how our first night was, how y/n is feeling. He wanted to know if she's already up for giving her statement. The earlier she gives it the better they can investigate and take Welsh directly into custody when they found this bastard." Bradley explains while shoving the coffee mug back into Jakeās hand and takes his for himself.
Jake lets out a frustrated breath. He knows that y/n has to give her statement, giving as much as details as she can recall. He wants nothing more than to protect her from these memories, he doesn't want her to relive this brutal attack and he sure as hell knows that Rooster feels the same. But both know that all they can do is help y/n through her statement and protect her for what is to come, whatever that will be.
"I don't like this either, Jake. I told Mav that I will let him know when y/n is up and we know how she feels. When she feels up for her statement they can come but we are going to stay with her."
---
"Fucking Hell, are you out of your mind?" Lieutenant Fillon shouts into his phone. "I helped you out the last time, we are even!"
Fillon is out of his mind, how dare his former friend, today nothing more than a psycho, demands another favor from him and a big one. The Lieutenant of the military police helped Welsh the last time he was banned from his last base and made sure that he can get a new position in Miramar, under close observation, but after all he was not dishonorably discharged. But this time, how is he able to sort out the mess again? Apart from that Fillon doesn't want to help Welsh out. He definitely went too far this time. This was way more than some verbal harassment of female colleagues or peeking at them in the shower. This is absolutely inacceptable. If Fillon would be honest Welsh's first mishaps were also inacceptable but Welsh had him at his balls. How he wished that he never cheated on his wife with this strange girl, but unfortunately he did and even worse, Welsh knows.
"Shut up, Fillon. You have to help me, this little slut is going to destroy me. I know you're doing the investigation. And I also know that you are going to help me. You are going to make her look like the seductive slut she is. She's fucking two pilots from Miramar. That will help usā¦" Welsh explains over the phone to his former friend.
"No way. Are you crazy? I can lost MY job for this stunt. This is too much, Welsh. You crossed that line a long time ago, but I'm not going to pull you out another time." Fillon stands up for himself. No way he is going to defend this man. He's a criminal, a sexual offender. His mind wanders to his wife and his daughter. He has to keep this guy from the streets to protect his family and protect other girls.
"Tss, tss, tss, Fillon. Lieutenant Fillon, are you still playing happy family with Sarah?" Welsh's sick laugh makes the other man's head spin.
"Leave my wife and my daughter out of this, you bastard."
Welsh already knows the outcome of this phone call, so he has a shit eating grin across his face.
"Fillon, my friend. You know the deal, you help me out and Sarah will never get knowledge of your little affair you had last year. Or do you want to pay maintenance not only for sweet Christi but for that bastard child you conceived accidently."
---
Y/n knows that she has to give a detailed statement about the evening Welsh came into her office. But now that she sits at the dining room table, the two pair of eyes of the Lieutenants of the military police on her she is getting nervous, no she is terrified. Jake and Bradley, Mav and the Admiral are also seated at the big table which is usually a venue for the two pilots and their girlfriend during cozy dinners or happy breakfasts. The support of her men, Pete and the Admiral gives her a bit more strength to get through the statement but she is already nervous for reliving the whole evening. Despite her headwound she can recall every detail. She knows what her attacker wore, how he smelled, what he said, where he touched her. Her mind was highly alert the moment Welsh entered her office. Maybe her subconsciousness learned to not shut itself off during the countless Ā attacks she endured during her relationship with Michael.
Y/n is also afraid of the reaction of her two boyfriends when they hear all the cruel details, how this somewhat developed during the two weeks they were away. She feels an incoming migraine raging behind her eyes and her stiff posture is hurting her kidney to the point she wants to cry but she has to do this as best as she could.
---
Y/n is relieved that she was able to get the two Lieutenants a detailed statement of the previous events of her attack and also what happened beforehand when Welsh made suggestive comments or even mentioned the name of her abusive ex. But now she feels drained, her head is pounding and she feels her head swim and the room spin when she shakes or nods her head. Her sweaty hands are clenched into fists in hiding under the table on her lap. She feels the rage radiating from both her boyfriends and she prays that this will be over rather sooner than later.
"Miss y/ln, you said earlier that Lieutenant Welsh once brought you home, when you were feeling sick during work. What did he say to you in the car?" Fillon asks y/n without looking up from his notepad where he took notes during her statement and where he is now looking up questions or notes he did prior.
"Yes, sir. He - he took me home, because I had a bad migraine." Y/n casts a look at the Admiral who gives an encouraging look to go on. "The Admiral assigned him to do so. In the car he- he tried to some kind of interrogate me." Y/n explains, hearing the words of Welsh, smelling his cologne and feeling the goosebumps she got out of disgust when he touched her.
"Miss y/ln, a colleague making small talk in the car. That sounds not really harmful to me." Fillon tries to lead the young woman up the garden path. The other military Lieutenant stiffens in his seat and straights himself up in his seat, but Fillon holds up his right hand as to stop his colleague from intervene.
"He, ehmā¦" Y/n gets more agitated by the second, she feels her body starting to shake and her back cramping up from being in a sitting position for too long. A warm hand is placed on her knee squeezing it gently. She can make out a whispered 'it's okay, y/n. We got you' from Bradley who sits beside her.
"He asked me how I can bring men home when living with two male roommates. And when I told him that I don't bring men home he said that I'm just playing hard to get. He touched my arm, I - I didn't want that. I don't like being touchedā¦" She rambles, her heart picks up speed and blood is rushing in her ears. But she has to stay strong, just some more minutes.
"Mmh, obviously." Fillon mumbles but loud enough to be heard.
Jakes needs to restrain himself to not go over the table and end this Fillon guy. At the beginning of the interview they were all in cheerful spirits that this will be over soon. Both Lieutenants were professional and even seem like have enough tact to interrogate a victim of such a crime. But nearly at the end the atmosphere changed. Fillon got sassier and asked strange questions as if y/n is the suspect here.
"Heyā¦" Bradley sits up straighter in his chair showing off his high but soon is stopped by Mav who rushes into the direction of the brunette aviator. "It's okay, Lieutenant Commander. I'm sure we're finished here, aren't we Lieutenants?"
"Just two more questions. Miss y/ln, I just have another question because there is something which I didn't write down properly. 'Hard to get' that's what he also told you on the said evening of the attack," Fillon lifts his hands and gestured like putting 'attack' in quotations. Y/n gets more insecure with the sudden change in the one Lieutenant's behavior. Don't they believe her anymore? Did she say something wrong?
"Is it possible that you, Miss y/ln, rose false hopes. Maybe you were a little too flirty with Daniel Welsh and then let's say forgot to make your point clear? Is it possible that Daniel Welsh hadn't had the chance to interpret your signs the right way?"
Bradley jumps up from his seat. The scraping of the chair legs echoing through the whole living room and dining area. Y/n flinches from the sudden movement beside her.
"That's enough!" Jake speaks up in a low and dangerous tone while he lays his arm around y/n's trembling shoulders.
Mav stands before Bradley even if he knows that the smaller man would have his difficulties to stop a raging Rooster. But Fillon seems to be unimpressed by the taller brunette aviator at least on the outside. Deep inside he feels like the biggest asshole on the planet. His heart is beating painfully as if his vital organ wants to stop him going further. But he has to protect his family, he has to play the game and he knows it's going to get dirty. He just hopes he can play it till the end, when he made his plans how to bring y/n to withdraw her allegations against Welsh he didn't reckon that the Admiral, Captain Mitchell and the two Lieutenant Commanders would be present.
"Just one more thing. Miss y/ln, is it possible that you wanted to be, let's say romantically involved with Daniel Welsh and he just rejected you? After all you are already involved with two aviators from the base you're working at. So it can be suggested that you were looking for a third playfellow, so to speak. But let's say Daniel Welsh rejected you and playing the victim seemed your only escape out of this embarrassā¦" Fillon doesn't get the chance to finish his sentence when Bradley already has the collar of his military police uniform in his fist and shoving him out of the chair.
"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw!" The Admiral is already out of his seat shoving himself between Fillon and Rooster. Bradley breathes hardly, he feels so much rage right now that the only person he can focus on is this Fillon guy. Two strong hands are gripping his shoulders pulling him two steps back from Lieutenant Fillon.
"Lieutenant Fillon, that's enough! You come with me to the base. We will have an interesting conversation with your superior!" The Admiral speaks loudly and shoves Fillon out of the house.
---
Y/n is shaking like a leaf, only with Jake's support she is able to stay seated in the chair at their dining table. Are they going to make her responsible for Welsh's behavior and the attack on her? She knows that game. Michael did that all the time. He blamed her after he beat her up. He blamed her for every hit, kick, punch. Every broken bone, every split lip, concussion and bleeding wound was her fault.
Fortunately Fillon's colleague and Pete left shortly after the Admiral drove off with Fillon.
Minutes lapse away but y/n is just staring into space, she doesn't even notice the tears that are falling into her lap until she feels a familiar hand stroking over her flushed cheeks.
"Princess?" She flinches when she notices Bradley kneeling in front of her being so close she can feel his warmth radiating from his broad body. When did he kneel in front of her? She must've spaced out for some time. Slowly her surroundings are coming back into focus. Jake is holding her shaking body, stroking over her back soothingly, Bradley is kneeling in front of her cradling her head in his soft big hands.
She takes a shuddered breath, she wants to say something but she is at a loss for words. Are Bradley and Jake also thinking it's her fault? Do they believe she flirted with Welsh? Or even worse that she wanted to sleep with this man? Her head is spinning and she feels she is spiraling again. To ground herself y/n clutched her thighs, digging her finger nails painfully strong into the flesh of her clothed legs. The fabric of her leggings supposedly the only thing which prevents her nails from drawing blood. Bradley notices his girlfriend hurting herself so he opens her tensed up hands and putting her smaller ones in his, stroking circles on the back of her hands with his thumb.
"I- I didn't flirt with himā¦" Y/n starts to stammer, frantically looking from one pilot to the other. "I swear, I didn't w-want his attention." The woman slowly starts to panic. What if they don't believe her? What if they're kicking her out? Maybe they think she cheated on them when they were deployed. Her breathing gets faster and y/n feels her heart hammering painfully in her chest.
"Hey, cupcake. Of course you didn't want this. We believe you!" Jake fortunately gets her attention when he speaks up. "He cradles her head into his chest right above his heart. "Hear my heart? Feel my breathing," he says while taking a deep and calm breath, "match my breathing, baby. You're safe with us."
The familiar scent, the soothing voice and the calm breathing helps y/n to overcome the building panic she felt in her stomach minutes ago. Now she is more than exhausted. She knew that giving her statement would drain her completely but the weird behavior of one of the Lieutenants, his accusations and questions just knocked all energy she had left out of her weak body.
Jake is relieved when he feels his girlfriend breathing steadily and calm against the collar of his button down. He tightens his grip on her upper body when he feels her sagging against him. He kisses her forehead but lingers a bit longer to feel her temperature. A frown appears on his face when he looks up and directly into the eyes of his boyfriend who is still kneeling in front of their girlfriend holding her hands in a tight grasp.
"Baby? You with me? Let's get you to rest, okay?" Jake sits her up a bit more to get her attention in case she is on the verge of falling asleep. The weak woman nods her head. She needs to lay down, the pain in her back due to her bruised kidney is killing her and she feels chills wrecking her body as if the temperature in the room fell dramatically the last 30 minutes.
But being alone in the bedroom makes her heart skip a beat. She doesn't want to be alone, she needs her boys with her.
Y/n wets her dry lips. "C-can I nap on the couch?" She bats her eyelashes at Jake, because she knows that he would be more at ease to know that she is properly resting in one of their beds. But with her big and beautiful eyes he can't help himself but comply with her wish, with every wish she has.
---
You can literally feel the tension in the Admiral's office. The Admiral was pissed beyond every imagination. Has he ever been so pissed? Probably yes but the urge to give a fuck on his high rank and just beat the shit out this Fillon guy has never been more present than now.
How dare this little military police asshole insinuated that Welsh's behavior is y/n y/lnās fault.
He tries to calm his rage when he takes a seat behind his big wooden desk. In the sitting position with the desk as a bumper between him and Fillon it's easier to keep his cool.
"What was that, Lieutenant?" The Admiral asks in a stern voice, never breaking his dangerous stare at the man in front of him. He knows how intimidating he can be and now is just the right time to play all his cards.
"What do you mean, Sir?" Fillon tries to play dumb. He doesn't believe in God but today is the first time he really prays to this foreign might to help him out of this mess, he needs a miracle that one is clear.
"Don't play dumb." With as much force as he has the Admiral hits on his desk with his right hand making the man in front of him jump. Maverick and the other Lieutenant standing awkwardly in one corner of the room watching from afar how Fillon digs his own grave only deeper.
"I- Iā¦" Fillon stammers. What should he do? Digging his grave in the Admiral's office or telling the truth about the whole Welsh situation. He just has this two opportunities and he dislikes both of them. The face of the girl, y/n y/ln, comes into his mind. She is beautiful, she seems like a kind and shy young woman. She reminds him of Sarah, his wife. What would he do when Sarah would've been the victim of that kind of crime? When she would've admitted to the hospital after being attacked, beaten and nearly raped. He shudders at the thought of his wife being injured and traumatized. He once again made the wrong decision by helping Welsh.
"We're listening, Lieutenant Fillon." The Admiral's voice softens just a tiny bit to signalize his attention.
"I have a problemā¦" The man says with his head hanging low, hands trembling in his lap.
---
Y/n shivers when she tries to stand up from her seated position at their dining room table. Her body is stiff and hurting. She's tired, both physically and mentally. Even if she knows that Bradley and Jake and also the Admiral and Maverick believe her Lieutenant Fillon's reaction concerns her.
She feels her knees buckle and the attempt to push her hurting body up by supporting her weight with her arms prop up on the table is not helping at all when she feels an intense pain shooting from her ribs in all her limbs.
Y/n hissing painfully immediately alerts Jake who puts his arms around her smaller frame to hold her body up and preventing it from collapsing back into the chair.
"I got you, baby. Come on, let's get you settled." Jake is more than concerned how quickly their girlfriend has deteriorate after giving her statement. Even if he knows every detail of her injuries and her physical state he somewhat hoped she would not be in such a weak constitution and in pain.
Bradley comes back from the kitchen area with a glass of water and y/n's medication when he sees his boyfriend holding up a very exhausted looking y/n. He hurries further into the direction of the dining table and places the drink and the medication on the table before he rushes on y/n's other side exchanging a worried glance with Jake.
"You two good?" The brunette asks hooking his arm around y/n who seems more out of it than minutes ago.
"Our girl is way past her bedtime." Jake says to lighten the mood while shoving away y/n's chair to finally get her away from the table and on the couch.
"You good to walk?" The blonde asks their girlfriend but doesn't get an answer when she sags into Bradley's chest head hanging low.
"Come on, Princess." Now Bradley tries to get her attention, kissing her sweaty forehead, her body clearly fighting the rekindled fever.
Y/n's weak body welcomes the soft cushions of their spacious couch when she finally sinks down a small content sight leaves her dry lips.Ā
The brunette aviator sits down beside the shivering woman helping her with the medication. When she finishes the drink completely for the sake of her kidney she looks at Bradley with big glazed over eyes.
"Can- can someone stay with me, please?" She whispers. Y/n is afraid to be alone even when both her boyfriends are just one room away. Giving her statement robbed all her strength and now she is craving some comforting touch of one, even better of both her boyfriends.
She feels a familiar hand stroking some strands of her silky hair away from her forehead.
"There nowhere I rather be, baby. Let's cuddle a bit." Jake speaks up. He is going to stay with y/n maybe even catching up on some sleep while Bradley talks to Maverick to seek information about this Fillon guy how they should handle the whole debacle with one of the Lieutenants clearly not on the side of the victim, on y/n's side.
A/N: It took me very long to get this one out and I'm very sorry. Had an operation on my eye and I felt very exhausted for weeks. But enough of me: HERE IT IS! Thanks for reading and supporting my silly little story <3 I didn't read it very thorough for detecting mistakes, so sorry when there are too many.
Word Count: 6.7k +
The smell of the room is the first thing y/n notices when she slowly comes to. It's a clean odor with a hint of alcohol and gauze. Y/n knows that smell, she knows the feeling of the scratchy sheets, she's familiar with the noises coming from the busy hallway. The bright light hurts her head when she finally blinks her heavy eyes open. Is she back in the hospital when her ex tried to stab her to death? Was it all a dream and she's still in her hometown, in the hospital where she was some kind of regular, afraid Michael will step foot into her hospital room any minute? A moan is tumbling out of her sore throat. Her whole body hurts. Y/n's head is throbbing painfully. She still feels a painful tightness around her neck like there are still hands wrapped around it. She takes stock of her other injuries. Her lower back is on fire, like the first time when she woke up from the operation she had on her kidney. Her whole side hurts like hell like she was overrun by a truck. Blinking her eyes she tries to focus on her surroundings. She sees a figure in the corner of the room. He is here. Michael is here. Once again he plays the role of the caretaking boyfriend and told the story of the clumsy girlfriend. Probably she fell down the stairs. She knows these kind of stories he always tells the hospital staff. Another whimper can be heard in the room such as the heart monitor's beeping which is alarmingly increasing, signaling y/n's elevated heartbeat. The dark haired figure approaches the young woman's bed. Y/n can't help it but tries to sit up, she feels to vulnerable in the laying position. Probably Michael will give her an earful for being so whiny that he had to take her to the hospital for the ridiculous scratches he inflicted on her. Out of pain she pinches her eyes shut. Y/n doesn't accomplish to sit up in the hospital bed, too weak and the pain too prominent to make a proper move.
"Hey, Princess. It's okayā¦" She can hear the dark figure talk to her. The voice so soft and warm. This can't be Michael, he would never call her Princess or talk to her in such a caring voice. Cautiously she opens her eyes when she feels a warm and strong hand softly stroking over her hand which doesn't has an IV in its vein. Bradley, the dark figure in her hospital room is Bradley. She isn't back in the hellhole of her hometown.
"Roo-yā¦" She breathes out, nothing more than a painful hoarse noise.
"Yes, Princess. I'm here." The taller man towers over her but not in a scaring way. She feels safe with the brunette aviator by her side. He bends down and places a soft kiss on y/n's head before he takes the place in the uncomfortable chair beside her bed.
Slowly but surely the memories are coming back into the young woman's mind. The reason why she's in the hospital. Welsh assaulting her, driving home, laying on the cold bathroom tiles, Jake and Bradley finally being back home.
"You're homeā¦you're finally h-homeā¦" y/n whispers before a painful sob escapes her mouth and tears immediately wetting her pale face. Without any words Bradley sits down beside y/n on the hospital bed, taking her in his arms, as cautiously as possible afraid he could hurt her. Bradley cradles y/n's head into his chest, breathing in the scent he fell in love with the first time he stood close to her. She fists his shirt into her hand afraid he would disappear any second, with her other arm she holds the side of the broken ribs. The slightly elevated position of her upper body is hurting her but she needs to feel the safety of Bradley's warm and broad chest. He lets her cry for some minutes until her breathing is slowly going back into a normal pace. He gently lies her back down against the pillow but stays seated beside her on the hospital bed.
"You scared us, Princess!" Bradley speaks with his voice full of emotion and eyes filled with unshed tears. He will never forget the moment he and Jake saw her laying on the bathroom floor, unmoving and pale like they were already too late.
"s-sorryā¦" The young woman slurred clearly exhausted even after she rested the last two hours.
"WE are sorry, Princess. Get some more sleep." The brunette says while stroking softly over her cheek.
Her eyes start to flutter but she fights against the exhaustion.
"Jakey?" Y/n asks in nothing more than a whisper. She misses her other boyfriend and starts to worry where he might be.
"He's on a coffee run, Princess. He will be back when you wake up."
In fact Jake talked to the Admiral and to Mav and is now outside to cool off. His rage is over the roof, he's never felt this huge desire to kill someone. In case he gets this Welsh guy into his hands, the perv is not going to last long. He touched, harassed and hurt their girlfriend. He tried to rape her and now she is in the hospital with severe injuries. He has no right to live any longer if you ask Jake.
---
Y/n tried to fight off sleep for nearly ten minutes but the pain and exhaustion are clearly visible on her pale face. But she needs to see Jake. She needs to know that he is okay. The overwhelming fear to lose Jake because he can't handle the situation or worse, he is distgusted with her, is keeping her awake.
"Brad- Rooā¦" Y/n whispers to get Bradley's attention.
"Hey, Princess. You still with me?" The brunette pilot looks up from his mobile and directly in the painfilled eyes of his girlfriend. "You okay? Are you in pain?" Bradley slightly starts to panic when he sees y/n's shaking hands which are resting on top of the scratchy hospital blanket.
"J-jaakeā¦" Pain and exhaustion and the fear for her other boyfriend are too prominent in her brain that building a coherent sentence seems too difficult for the young woman. She just needs both her boyfriends and she wants to go home. Too bad are the memories she has from her last stay in the hospital. The sterile white room in the hospital in her hometown was a lonely jail cell for her. The nurses, doctors and her boss were her only visitors. The trauma of being hurt and alone is making her increasingly panicky.
"Pleaseā¦" Y/n whines. It brakes Bradley's heart even more to see his girlfriend so desperate and in pain.
"I go get him, okay Princess?" Despite Bradley's grasp for the situation, hell he is just in as much rage as Jake, but he needs to get Jake's ass in this hospital room before y/n works herself up even more.
Pain and exhaustion is quickly replaced by pure fear. Y/n eyes always seem to be the key to her soul and Bradley and Jake learned to read her easily over the last two years they lived together but now it's like her eyes are screaming agony and fear. He feels a cold and shaking hand grips his wrists tightly.
"D-don't leave me, please. Don't leave me tooā¦" y/n begs him with her eyes wide open. Does she really think Jake left her? Just another reason for the brunette aviator to find their partner and bring him to their girlfriend before this situation gets out of hand.
"Princess, hey look at me." He softly puts his thumb under her chin and strokes her pale cheek. "We're not going to leave you. We are here for you, no matter what! We love you."
"J-jake went awayā¦" She looks confused with her eyes now glazed over, the fever hitting her full force one more time. Bradley feels the heat radiating from her face into his hand. Y/n clearly thinks Jake left her after what has happened to her.
"Oh baby. He didn't left us. He just had to take care of some things. I'll be back with him okay? I hurry upā¦" He slowly stands up and strides to the door like a man on a mission.
---
In the distance Bradley can make out the tousled blonde hair, which is under normal circumstances perfectly styled. Today it looks like it has been attacked by all ten fingers of the aviator pacing in front of the glass doors of the ER.
"What do you think you're doing?" Bradley's harsh words interrupting the pacing pilot. Bradley understands the turmoil Jake finds himself in right now. He feels the exact same but Bradley accomplished to prioritize and puts y/n first and didn't let the rage he feels become the better of him.
Jake immediately turns around when he hears the strained voice of his partner.
"Is Y/n okay?" Is the first thing Jake has in mind. Why is Bradley here and not with their girlfriend? Something must've happened that the brunette pilot left y/n's hospital room.
"No, she's not okay, Hangman. She is exhausted, in pain and traumatized and she thinks you left her. So instead of swaying your cocky ass out here you could be with your girlfriend who is on the verge of a panic attack." Now it was Roosters time to blow off some steam.
Jake drops his gaze, his shoes now the most interesting item in the waiting room. He knows he has to be with her. He wants to be with her, but his rage was so overwhelming that he thought he couldn't stand the sight of their girlfriend, hurt and in pain.
Bradley takes a step closer to his partner and squeezes his shoulder in a soothing manner.
"Hey. I'm sorryā¦ I know you're just as concerned as I am. But please, she needs us both right now. Let the team and the military police look for that son of a bitch."
---
The guilt really hits Jake hard when he opens the door to y/n's hospital room and sees his girl silently crying. Her wet cheeks flushed from fever her eyes glazed over. With shaking hands she tries to dry her wet face but she is startled when she hears the door to her room close. She sees the blonde aviator drawing closer to her. But she can't believe her eyes. By now her feverish brain told her the story of her being alone again, Bradley and Jake away living their peaceful life without her seemingly increasing baggage.
Y/n looks like a dear in the headlight when she finally feels the comforting touch of the blonde Navy man.
"Cupcake. I'm here now, I'm not gonna leave you." He grabs the hand without the IV line and places a soft kiss on her warm skin. Y/n shudders from the soft touch of Jake's lips. Behind the blonde man slowly approaches Bradley, relieved to see his two partners now finally together and y/n calmer than previously without Jake.Ā
"Sleep, babygirl. Roo-y and I will be here when you wake up." Finally y/n can let the exhaustion and the medication take over and her glassy eyes fall shut.
---
"She still asleep?" Bradley whispers when he enters the hospital room with two steaming hot cups of coffee. Jake and Bradley were allowed to stay the night in y/n's hospital room, after the Admiral pulled some strings at the military hospital. It was absolutely not negotiable that either Jake nor Bradley leave y/n alone in the night. Due to the heavy medication to keep the fever and the pain in check y/n slept rather deep despite waking up from two nightmares and the fear of being alone in the sterile atmosphere of the unkown hospital. Fortunately both pilots were able to calm her down quickly.
Now shortly before the medical round of the head physician and the assistant medical directors they have to wake y/n up to check if she's more coherent than yesterday.
"I talked to the doctor and the Admiral just now, we can bail her out when her fever is down. They want to keep her for more days but the Admiral gave us the support to take her home. For the sake of her recovery and for her safety. I made it clear that she will be safer at home with us than here at the hospital." Bradley talks in a hushed tone not to disturb the sleeping woman.
When both men hear a faint whimper and the rustling of the sheets they both turn to look at y/n. She nearly looks lost in the hospital bed. The stark white sheets give nearly no contrast to her ghostly white face and her pale lips. Jake is the first she sees when she blinks her eyes open. A soft smile forms on her lips. Jake kept his words from the night. He is still here and behind him she can also make out another familiar figure. She is not alone like the other times in her past that she woke up in a hospital bed. But this time she is not alone. Jake and Bradley are still with her.
"Good morning." She whispers with a smile on her lips despite her still aching throat.
"Good morning, baby." Jake says between the kisses he places on her small hand. "What's that smile?" He asks in his cocky and flirty tone she loves so much.
"Missed you both, now you're back and I'm happy." Y/n croaks out, her voice breaking at the end of the sentence. Jake bends over her laying body and places a soft kiss on y/n forehead and lingers there a bit longer than necessary to feel her temperature. She seems more coherent than yesterday and her temperature also seems to be down. Jake wanders further down and places his plump lips cautiously on y/n's. He feels her smiling into his lips and hears a faint giggle. How he loves the way she giggles shyly when he kisses her.
"Hey, getting cozy without me?" Bradley talks rather amused and strokes his warm hand over y/n's tousled hair.
---
"Mrs. Y/ln due to the blunt trauma you suffered from a kidney contusion, blood in your urine such as nausea and pain is highly to expect in the next days and weeks. Fortunately your fever is currently down but you still have a slightly elevated temperature which is also common with your patterns of injury. Your broken ribs stay taped to keep them in place and reduce the pain. But I recommend regular intake of pain medication. The CT showed no bleedings, but the minor concussion can trigger headaches and dizziness. Your bruised throat will be uncomfortable for the next days but fortunately there is no damage to the vocal cords or the trachea." Y/n tries to listen carefully to the doctor who explains the extent of her injuries now that she is conscious and fully awake. Her whole body aches but there's nothing more than the wish to be discharged. She wants to go home, to feel the safety of their cozy house. That's reason she puts on a brave face.
"Under other circumstances I would keep you here, Mrs. y/ln, for at least two more days, but the Admiral and the two Lieutenants talked to meā¦" the doctor looks up from y/n and over to the two fidgeting and attentive listening pilots, "ā¦and they all assure me and my colleagues that you will be in good care at home. Still we will stay in contact especially due to your kidney damage. So the nurse will get your discharge papers, medications and instructions ready and when you finish the IV you're free to go." The doctor explained politely.
---
Even though y/n wants to leave the hospital walking with her head held high she knows that it's either the wheelchair or one of her boyfriends carrying her to the car. Getting dressed in her own clothes, a soft leggings and one of her favorite hoodies from Jake or Bradley, she doesn't care, was her first obstacle. Her whole body hurts, the broken ribs screaming in pain and her bruised kidney is giving her a burning pain in her back let alone the dizziness from her concussion. She feels like her body is betraying her, it's a long time ago that she felt so physically weak. Even with a bad migraine attack she has some strength in her but now she feels like she could sleep for weeks, walking for more than some shaky steps seems too far away right now. Fortunately Bradley helped her with the ordeal of getting dressed while Jake organized a wheelchair and got some final instructions from the treating physician.
When she finally is fully clothed Bradley softly sits y/n back on the bed, waiting for Jake and the wheelchair. Before he can turn around and gather her personal items and the flowers and cards the Daggers send her, y/n grabs the brunette's hand to gain his attention.
"Thank you." She croaks out, "for taking me home. I know it's a lot and I'm so sorryā¦that you two have to deal with my mess after coming back home from deployment." Bradley softly shushes her by putting his forefinger on her plump lips. He lowers himself down, kneeling down in front of his smaller girlfriend.
"Princess, we would move Heaven and Hell for you. We are happy to take you home and take care of you. We love you!"
The door quietly opens with Jake stepping into the small hospital room. "Going down on your knees, Rooster? You couldn't wait until I'm back with both of you?!" The cocky pilot chuckles and squeezes the other man's shoulder.
---
"You wanna ride shotgun, shortcake?" Jake asks as he stops the wheelchair in front of his truck in the hospital parking lot. They finally managed to leave the hospital, excited to drive home to their cozy and warm house.
"Ehm, can you- can you sit with me in the back?" Y/n whispers afraid she would claim too much. Just getting ready and sitting in the wheelchair drained her to her limits. She feels her head swimming and pain radiating from her chest travelling in every fiber of her body. The young woman needs the physical contact right now and someone who gives her the safety she craved for the last two weeks.
"There's no place I'd rather be, my love." Jake kisses her head softly. The last thing the blonde aviator wants is to leave his girlfriend out of his sight. He already noticed her glazed over eyes which seem like they would fall shut any second. In the back of his head he asks himself if this was the right decision to take the injured woman home with them, but she will be comfier at home and they can keep a closer eye on her at their own house. In addition to that the Admiral positioned two Sergeants from the military police to observe their home until Welsh will be found and locked away, just in case the maniac chooses to come back and finish what he started. The Admiral was devasted when Mav called him and told him what has happened at the base during his absence. He felt and still feels a huge amount of guilt that something horrible happened to his IT-specialist at his base. So he pulled every string he could as a damage control even if he knows that he will never be able to make this unhappen.
"Rooster, you heard the lady. You're driving." Jake tosses his car keys in Bradley's direction.
---
The drive from the hospital to their shared home is not long but Jake immediately notices that it is stretching y/n to the limit. Just minutes after Bradley sets the truck into drive the woman starts to shake in Jake's arm. He sits in the middle of the bench seat y/n tucked into his side. He supports most her weight but still it seems to be more than exhausting for her to stay seated.
"You okay there, y/n?" The blonde looks down at her shaking body asking concerned.
Ā A quiet "mmh" Is the only thing he can hear as a reply from his girlfriend.
"Just five more minutes, Princess. Then we're finally back home together." Bradley shoots a worried glance at Jake in the rearview mirror.
Sitting in the back of the moving car hasn't ever been so exhausting for y/n than today. As much as she wished to be home in one of her boyfriends beds, the car ride is getting more and more painful. Her ribs screaming in agony and her swimming head is making her nauseous to the point where she is sure that she will puke into Jake's lap in the next two minutes. She pinches her nails into Jake's thigh to ground herself. Just some minutes and she will be home.
"You heard Roo-y? Some more minutes cupcake." Jake places a soft kiss on the younger woman's now sweaty forehead.
He lets out breath of relief when Bradley finally parks the car in their driveway. Getting y/n into their house is now the only left challenge before they can finally be together. He holds the shaking woman longer in his arms and waits for his partner to get out of the car and open y/n's door.
"I got her." Bradley mumbles when he gathers his girlfriend into his warm arms ready to carry her inside the house. With no complain from their girlfriend of being carried he knows that she is in real agony right now.
---
When her dizzy head hits the soft pillow and her aching body sinks into the most comfy mattress she's ever slept on she knows that she's finally home, safe and sound in Bradley's bedroom. The mattress dips and she feels a familiar hand stroking softly over her pale cheeks. Her tired eyes opening just a little bit.
"Princess, I know you're tired but before you can go to sleep you have to drink something and you're also due for your medication. Are you in pain?" The brunette asks in a loving tone.
Y/n opens her eyes fully, but hisses when the bright light which filters through the windows feels like hot iron in her head.
"I guess that was a yes. Jake is just preparing everything for you." She feels the mattress dip and a soft but big hand which is stroking over her hurting head.
Ā "-m dizzy and nauseousā¦" Y/n mumbles when Jake makes an appearance in Bradley's bedroom.
"Sweetcakes, just a glass of water and your medication. After that you can rest." The blonde aviator says.
---
The bedroom door is slowly opened with a creak. Faint lightning shining from the living room illuminates the otherwise dark room creating a ray of light like a dim spot light. Jake wonders why the bedroom opens when he is blinded by the light falling directly on his face until a dark shadow appears in the doorway. Immediately he looks to his right side. Bradley and y/n are sleeping peacefully beside him. An intruder. There's someone in their house and this stranger is now creeping into their bedroom. The blonde aviator feels his heart quicken its pace hammering painfully in his ribcage. But his body feels like frozen on the spot, he can't move. He has to stop whoever intrudes their personal space, the peace of their home. His limbs are too heavy to move. The stranger takes a step closer and now Jake can see his face. It's Welsh. This bastard is brave enough to break into their home and comes back now that Bradley and him are already back home. Jake keeps struggling but he feels like glued to the mattress. He shout over to his partner. He needs to alert Bradley. They have to keep y/n safe, at all costs. But the brunette aviator just keeps sleeping peacefully and also y/n doesn't wake up from Jake's panic-stricken screams. Welsh looks him directly into his eyes, showing his teeth in an ugly smile looking like a predator eying his prey.
But he is not there for Hangman or Rooster. He is there for her. He is there to end this whole ordeal. He is going to end her. After all she is responsible that he is banned from a Navy Base once again.
Jake screams and struggles to free himself of the invisible power which seems to hold him in a vice grip. He sees Welsh's big hands embrace y/n's delicate neck. His fingers looking like small but dangerous snakes enclosing around her neck his big thumbs are pressing on her throat. Y/n's eyes fly open when she feels two strong hands cutting off her oxygen feed. Desperately she tries to shove away the big hands which are suffocating her. She struggles, kicks but the young woman grows weaker every second she can't take in a proper breath until she is not moving anymore. The intruder slowly releases his deathly strong hold he has on her throat and admires his handywork. Y/n's head falls onto her side directly looking at Jake. Her eyes staring deadly into his. He couldn't safe her.
---
A hard kick hits y/n on her shin and wakes her up immediately. She lays curled into herself on her left side. Her eyes fly open from the sudden pain in her leg and she is greeted with a kicking and struggling Jake. His limbs are tangled completely in the covers. A chill runs over y/n body. Jake must've stolen the blanket during the night is now tangled in it. The three always sleep with just two blankets, at least one of them is always sharing his blanket with their girlfriend. She never wakes up chilly without a blanket draped over her body. This night was a first. Another blow just misses her concussed head. She needs to wake Jake up before he hurts her or himself. With her cold hand she touches his bare shoulder softly stroking up and down. She ignores her stiff body and the still lingering pain in all her limbs and especially her lower back and closes the space between them to whisper into Jake ear.Ā
"No, STOP!" The blonde aviator shouts which finally wakes up Bradley who slept peacefully through the night mere seconds ago.
"Jakeyā¦" she starts but when his knee hits her directly into her stomach she lets out a loud painful moan. The wind is suddenly knocked out of the young woman completely. In pain she pinches her eyes shut too weak to create more space between her and the trashing pilot she sinks back into her pillow breathing rapidly.
Bradley needs some seconds to gain his bearings. Jake is shouting, y/n is moaning in pain, what the Hell is happening? When he hears the heavy breathing of his partner and the faint shallow attempt of a breath from his girlfriend in their middle he immediately turns around. His eyes are landing on the trashing and kicking blonde. He jumps out of the bed and sprints to the other side of the bed falling onto his knees with a loud thud. His hands immediately holding Jake's shoulders in a tight grip to prevent the blonde pilot from trashing and hitting further.
"Jake. JAKE!" Bradley talks in a loud voice. "HANGMAN!"
With a loud gasp Jake finally finds an exit out of his night terror. He is breathing heavily on the verge of hyperventilating. He looks directly into his partner's face which calms him down just a little bit before the vivid memories of his dream crashing back into his conscious mind.
"It was dream. Everything is okay! We are at home." Bradley doesn't know what demon had Jake in its claws but giving him the information that they're at home was the first one that came into his mind to calm down his sweating partner.
"Y/n." Jake's eyes grow wide and he turns his head around. He needs to make sure that this was just a dream that his girlfriend is still alive and peaceful sleeping in their bed.
"Hey calm down, okay. Shhh, we are okay." Bradley soothes Jake. He doesn't want to y/n getting scared by Jake's outburst. In that moment he remembers her painful moan and her ragged breathing from prior. So he lets his eyes wander from Jake's slowly calming face further over onto the middle of the bed.
She still hasn't moved from her fetal position eyes still pinched shut.
The blonde pilot cautiously sits up to also check up on his girlfriend. His first priority is always y/n. After checking up on her he has enough time to process his nightmare.
"B-baby?" He talks into her direction still a bit out of breath but immediately calmer to not scare her even more.
The young woman is shaking violently in her fetal position her arms cradling her body, her trembling hands on her abdomen. A moan is tumbling out of her slightly open mouth.
Bradley crawls on the other side of their girlfriend stroking gently over her back after he turned on the lamp on his nightstand. Jake tucks some loose wisps behind her ear to get better look at her face.
"Cupcake. Are you in pain?" Jake asks in a low voice when he sees her pain stricken face.
---
The blow to her abdomen was really powerful. Her lingering nausea now back full force. She feels Bradley jumping out of the bed and sprinting to Jake's side. Good. He can calm him down in the meantime she can try to breathe away the pain in her abdomen and lingering her nausea. Felling the bile creeping up her sore throat y/n completely blocks out the commotion beside her.
She doesn't know how much time ticked away when she feels a tender hand tucking loose hair behind her ear. "Cupcake. Are you in pain?" y/n hears the soft voice of the hand's owner.
"I-Iā¦throw up." Are the only words she can come up with when the remains of the last drink she had is slowly creeping up her throat.
"Gonna pick you up, baby." Jake warns her before he picks his shaking girlfriend up. With Bradley in front of them he cautiously brings her into the master bathroom and slowly letting her down in front of the toilet.
---
"Here, some ice water. Slow sips, Princess." Bradley hands her the glass with the cool liquid. Throwing up is always an act of unpleasantness but with a concussion raging in her head and her beaten und bruised body throwing up was excruciating. Y/n is more than thankful for Jake holding up her upper body and now supporting her back with his warm chest while she's sitting on the cold tiles and sipping the cool water her other boyfriend just handed her. With her other hand she still cradles the place where Jake's knees made contact with her abdomen.
When she finishes the half full glass of water Bradley is quick to take the glass from her smaller hand.
"Are you in pain, Princess? You still holding your hand over your tummy." Of course Bradley doesn't miss her cradling the painful spot in her torso. Both men know the exact amount of injuries she has, they both seem like to have studied her medical report and the discharge papers. So both aviators are clearly aware that y/n hasn't issues with her abdomen when she was discharged earlier.
The young woman moves a bit in Jake arms to be able to look at her blonde boyfriend, completely ignoring Bradley's question. She needs to make sure Jake is okay. He had a bad nightmare, she's never saw him that agitated during his sleep. Normally he is calm but light sleeper. It's easy to wake him up and he never moves this much. It must've been a really bad nightmare, maybe from one of their former deployments?
"Jakey, " y/n starts to talk the blonde man who held her in his arms and lays the hand which is not holding her painful abdomen on his chest, directly over his heart, "you had a nightmare. Are you okay? It was really bad, I wanted to calm you down but you didn't wake up. I'm so sorry, I really triedā¦"
Jake can't hide the astonishment in his eyes when y/n tries to make sure HE is okay. He only had a nightmare, she is the one hurt after all.
"Baby, I'm okay. Please tell us if you're in pain. Do we need to take to the hospital?" Jake shifts her body in his arms to get a better look at y/n's face and to look her into her eyes.
"You screamed and you kickedā¦it was bad, wasn't it?" In that moment something klicks in his Jake's still muddled brain. He kicked and hit, he lashed out. Of course, in his dream he wanted to protect their girlfriend. While his body was frozen on place in his dream, it was well functioning in the real world. He gasps when realisation hits him.
"Did I hurt you, y/n?"
Bradley watches the exchange with an anxious feeling in his stomach. Hopefully Jake can keep his cool despite him instantly blaming himself for hurting their girlfriend even if it was unintentionally during a nightmare. He strokes softly over Jake's bare back to give him some soothing support.
"Baby?" Jake tries again to get an answer out of his girl.
"It's nothing, Jakey. Please don't be mad. I tried to calm you down and well my stomach connected with your knee."
Despite the serious situation Bradley lets out a small chuckle. This is typical y/n, of course she wouldĀ never admit that one of her partners is to blame for a situation in which she is involved. Even if Jake kicked her with his knee she turns it around making it look like she is the one to blame.
Jake feels his heart make a summersault and he feels it instantly dropping into his stomach. He hurt the most precious girl he has ever seen. Fuck.
"Babyā¦" he breathes out, "please let me see." As tender as he can he peels away y/n hand and starts to pull up the shirt their girlfriend is currently wearing to inspect the place where he accidently kicked her. Bradley also bends over Jake's shoulder to get a look at the injured woman in his partners arms.
A sigh of relief can be heard in the otherwise silent bathroom when there's no bruise to be in evidence.
"It's nothing. It was just the shock and my sensitive stomach. I was nauseous beforehand and that was just the catalyst." Y/n tries to downplay the whole situation and before Jake is able to stand up and give her chilly body over to Bradley she lets herself fall into his chest embracing him in a tight hug. "I love you Jake. I know would never intentionally hurt me."
Bradley places a soft kiss on the blonde aviators head and envelopes him from behind. The three don't know how long they enjoy each other's closeness when Bradley speaks up.
"Let's take this into bed, my loves. You're both are going hypothermic on the cold tiles."
The brunette stands up and rounds the bundle of human body in front of him.
"Let me take herā¦" He hushes to the blonde man still sitting on the floor.
Rooster bends down and presses a tender kiss on the other man's lips before he picks up y/n and carrying her back to his bed.
Finally back in the warmth of the bed Jake is still deep in thought, the dream, him hurting their girlfriend, her getting hurt during their absence, until he feels a familiar cold hand stroking over his chest.
"Jaaakeyā¦" y/n dramatically whines. She feels Bradley spooning her smaller body from behind, his broad chest deliciously flush against her back. But she needs Jake just as much.
"Please come over to us. We miss you and I'm still coldā¦"
"Yes, Jakey. You heard the lady. We're cold." Bradley teases his boyfriend. He is not going to give the blonde the chance to disappear into his head and brooding for the rest of the night.
Jake huffs annoyed but turns around either way and finally closes the distance. He presses y/n's head softly into his chest and kisses her on the top of her head. Reality settles its ugly face deep into his bones. He feels his throat closing and the first tear falling from his eyes on top of y/n head. Bradley props himself up on his elbow and catches some more tears which make their way down Jake's face.
"We love you, Jakey!" Y/n slightly slurs, visibly exhausted from the events of the night. Her head is swimming and pounding but she stays still, buried into Jake's chest. His nightmare clearly shook him to the core whatever it was about it must have been cruel.
Jake tightens his hold on their girlfriend. "He killed you." The blonde aviator mumbles into her soft hair.
Y/n gathers all her strength which is left in her exhausted body. Jake needs to talk about his nightmare, she understands that he is somewhat traumatized. She knows this kind of dreams. They can feel so real that it's difficult to separate them from reality even if you're already awake for some time. The pictures are still coming back and talking about it is the best way to store the cruel pictures into the last corner of the mind.
"We're here, love. Y/n is here, we're back home. And we protect each other. We are not alone." Y/n is relieved that Bradley rises to speak. Her throat burns from Welsh's attempt to strangle her and throwing up earlier made the pain only worse. She feels Jake shudder and releases y/n's body out of his tight embrace to look into her tired face. He cups her still flushed cheeks but looks up to Bradley wo lays propped up on his elbow behind their girlfriend.
"My dreamā¦in my dream heā¦" Jake has to swallow, he doesn't to say the name of this bastard in their cozy and safe bedroom, anyhow both his partners know who is meant by 'he', "he broke into our house. He came into our bedroom, you both were asleep. But I- I heard him, I tried to jump out of bed, but I couldn't moveā¦" his voice cracks a bit but he continues, "I couldn't protect y/n. I screamed for you, but he didn't hear me. And then he strangled her. Fuckā¦" Jake looks down into the eyes of their girlfriend, which are slowly overflowing with tears. Her heart is breaking of the blonde aviator. She doesn't want him feeling like this because of her. Jake gets lost in y/n's eyes. They're full of life and emotions, unlike her dead eyes which looked at him in his dream. "You died, right in front of me and I couldn't do anything."
Y/n is shocked how distraught Jake looks at her. Despite her being in pain right now she moves her right hand to grab one of his and slowly bringing his hand to her chest.
"Feel my heart? I'm here. I love you." Y/n wants to say so much more but she is growing weaker every second her sentence nothing more than a whispered slur.
"I love you, too Cupcake. Come on let's catch some sleep." Jake kisses takes her hand and kisses her fingertips and helps her to lay down properly. The blonde pilot tucks her into their shared blanket but y/n is already fast asleep.
"We're okay, Jake. This never going to happen again." Bradley whispers and places a soft kiss on the other man's delicious looking lips, he tastes hints of the salty tears which are already dried. They're going to protect their girl at all costs. Welsh is the one who has to look over his shoulder, their prey.
When a case hits too close to home, is Jay able to keep it together or is he going to lose everything.
Summary: Wil is there to support his brother even if he's pissed at him for treating his partner like shit. Lily's condotion is worsening and not only her night is interrupted and shorter than expacted.
Instead of leaving him the fuck alone, Voight had made his way over to Jay after he visited Lily. And now the brunette detective is feeling more miserable than ever. Instead of giving him another earful Voight told him there will be no internal investigation against him. Lily protected him, once again. But that's just who she is. She always puts the people first she's close with. She has never had such a thing as a loving family and despite her foster brother nearly every human being treated her like shit. It's something Jay thought of a lot in the past. Where does she take her unconditional love from when she didn't have someone who loved her in the past? She is unique and absolutely special, not just for Jay.
The brunette detective stands in front of the living room window deep in thought watching the heavy snowflakes falling from the sky, creating a tight white blanket on Chicago's streets. A heavy hand on his shoulder brings him out of his swirling cage of his own mind.
"Hey man. Just checked the weather broadcast and they announced heavy snowfall the whole night. So either I go home now or never." Will chuckles at his own joke.
"Ehm, what?" Jay asks confused, he didn't really get what his brother told him seconds ago, too deep in his thoughts and thinking about Lily.
"The weatherā¦"
Jay turns around to look at his brother. "Yeah, of course. You can crash here, the guest room is already prepared." With ha heavy sigh Jay goes back to the couch and starts to tidy up some of the mess to finally call it a night and hide himself in the comforting warmth of his bed. Of course the guest room is already ready, it always is for Lilian. She often crashed at his, sleeping in the guest room, when one of them had a hard time coping with the current case they even slept together in one bed. He remembers the last time they slept together in one bed. The case hits too close to home for Lily. What seemed to be a common drug dealer case developed into a case with a foster father who forced his foster children to sell the drugs, he cooked in his cellar, the kids had to sell on Chicago's streets. The neglected children, the messy house and the aggressive father remembered Lily of her own horrors she endured during her childhood. That night she opened up a bit more to Jay, she told him some of the stories he didn't know by then until she was so exhausted that she fell asleep with her head on his warm chest. He calmed her down during a nightmare and cuddled her the whole night in an attempt to give he the love and the warmth she missed in her younger life.
How he wishes Lily would crash at his tonight, for his own comfort but also to make this fucking day from hell undone.
When he gets himself ready for bed he knows that this is going to be a long night. But he doesn't know how long it's really going to be.
---
She feels like she is frozen. An unmoving human ice block. She feels her heavy chest every breath more painful than the other. Her head pounds painfully with every heartbeat. Lily slowly tries to blink open her eyes. She is in her living room she can make out the outlines of the coffee table and the untouched mug of probably now cold tea. Her head swims the longer she looks into the dark living room. Why is she sleeping on the couch? And why is she so damn cold? Her body is shivering like a leaf in a storm. The young woman slowly brings her heavy body into a sitting position but has to ride out the severe dizziness which she is greeted with the first thing her upper body is in the vertical. When she tries to take some deep breaths to get rid of the dizzy feeling and the swimming of her head she feels like her lungs are on fire. A painful wet couch is tumbling out of her mouth which seems to be endless.
What time is it? Alarmingly confused she reaches out to get her mobile which is laying on the coffee table.
Three missed calls from Adam, one from Will and one from Tonio. Fuck she clearly overslept and now she will be late for work. And isn't it her turn to drive Jay and herself to the precinct today? Yes, that's why Will called her, cause she has to fetch Jay. In her daze Lily doesn't notice that it's only two in the morning. Neither does she remember what happened yesterday or why she slept in the couch and is feeling so miserable. In her panic to be late for work and also make her partner late for work she stumbles into her bathroom and cleans up as fast as possible. Her rush ever so often interrupted by painful coughing fits. Her chest is much more tighter than when she woke up 20 minutes ago and she can't stop her hands from trembling. Her whole body is shaking and the freezing cold seems to made itself comfortable in her bones.Ā
In just her leggings and one of Jay's academy hoodies she stole from him in the past she makes her way to her car which is waiting in the driveway. In her weakened state Lily needs a lot longer to finally reach her car. The big juicy snowflakes immediately soaking through the hoodie and wetting her strawberry blonde hair.
---
A loud knocking brings the young detective out of his deep slumber. It wasn't an overly restful sleep but at least he finally fell asleep after tossing and turning for what felt like hours. Who the hell is knocking at his door? He slowly opens his eyes and takes a look at the digits of his clock on the nightstand. Nearly three o'clock. Another three taps echo through his home, this time weaker and not as loud as before. Jay drags his tired body out of his bed not caring one bit that he is only clothed in sweatpants. The person who's that bold and disturbs him at this ungodly hour has to live with him being bare chested and half naked.
"I'm coming, I'm coming for God's sake." He shouts on his way to the front door. The look through the peephole makes his blood run cold. As fast as possible he unlocks his front door just to be greeted by a violently coughing strawberry blonde woman.
"Lily! What-" He can't seem to find words for what he just found at his front door or better who he found in the middle of the freezing night. He reaches out to steady the wavering and coughing woman in front of him.
In between her wet coughs Jay makes out a faint 'sorry' and 'late', but there's no way he has understand that right. Why would she apologize for being late it's in the middle of the night after all. She is on sick leave because of him. When Jay touches her shoulders to steady her shivering body he feels how wet her, well his hoodie is. She must've been at his front door for longer than just the two minutes he needed to stumble out of his bed.
Her coughing doesn't seem to improve and her wheezing gets worse every second.
"Come on let's get you inside, I got you." Jay soothes her while pulling her trembling body inside his warm home. "Let's sit you down. Do you need your spray?" Jay gets more worried when he takes a second to look in her pain stricken face. Beats of sweat are forming on her forehead. Her face ghostly pale despite her flushed cheeks. Her eyes have this panicked look he knows too well.
"Will!" The brunette detective shouts in the direction of the guest room but Will is already on his way to the living room, well aware of the commotion happening there. He's just as shocked as his brother to see Lilian sitting there. Gasping for breath with one hand fisting the hoodie in an attempt to literally rip open her own chest to get oxygen into her lungs.
"Do you have her spray here?" Will knows Jay has to have some spare medication for his partner somewhere in his house.
"Kitchenā¦ehm, in the second cupboard on the left and in the master bathroom in the cabinet." Jay answers as fast as he can. He sits himself beside Lily on the couch. She's still gasping for breath her eyes glazed over whether from unshed tears or because of something else he doesn't know.
"Hey, Lils. Look at me. You're okay. Will gets the spray, you have to stay calm." He cautiously cups her face into his hands. Her soft skin is on fire. He hisses at how hot her face feels in his hands. She's burning up, that's why she seems so out of it.
---
She doesn't know how she got to the front door of her partner's house. Call it a miracle because there's no way she made it there by herself without a little help from above. The snowfall increased during her drive over and fortunately every other person in the whole city was wise enough to stay the hell at home. Otherwise she probably would have been in an severe accident. Her fever also increased during the time she manoeuvered through the snowy streets. When she finally saw the familiar driveway and truck sitting there under a huge blanket of snow she thought she is going to pass out. Her whole body is burning from the inside while she feels like being frozen to death, shivering so violently that she needed some minutes to open the door and make her way to the front door.
---
Jay feels Lily's body slowly sagging against his upper body. Her head lolling alarmingly in the direction of her own chest.
"Hey, stay awake, I help youā¦" He pushes her upper body further up, propping her against his chest. Her head fall onto his bare chest. Jay shivers when her hitched breaths puff against his skin. He is relieved when he hears his brother's hurried steps and the redhead comes into his field of vision holding one of Lily's asthma sprays in his hand.
"Lily, can you look at me? Here's your spray, I help you but you have to be game." Will guides the spray to Lily's mouth while his other hands tilts her chin. Her eyes are glazed over and her flushed cheeks are also a clear indication for him that she has a high fever. He just prays that the spray will help her to breath a bit easier.
After three puffs of her emergency medication her coughing stops but she is still wheezing and far away from being coherent.
"Good girl. See, it's getting better." The doctor soothes the young woman sitting in front of him.
"You got her? I need my case, I want to examine herā¦" Will asks his brother and takes off to get his medical case out of the trunk of his car.
"You want to lay down, Lils?" Jay asks his partner who is still shaking like a leaf.
"N-noā¦hurts." Lily mumbles while her exhausted body is slowly falling once again into the comfortable chest of the detective beside her. Jay has never felt his partners wavy strawberry blonde hair tickle his naked chest. They were always clothed when cuddling each other. Of course in Lily's state she is far away from caring or even registering that her partner's chest is stark naked and that he is only clothed in his sweatpants. But Jay doesn't want to let her alone right now only to put on a shirt. She clearly needs his physical support right now and he is also glad he can have her near him, except for the alarming condition she is in. He sits himself further into the cushion of the headrest of his spacious couch and takes Lily's nearly slack body with him. Now he can cradle her fully into his body, rubbing soothing circles on her back.
"What hurts, honey?" The nickname just slips out of his mouth as if the previous events of the day never existed. But she doesn't answer him, in fact she only presses her body further into Jay's.
"s-soo coldā¦" She finally is able to get some words out of her mouth, teeth chattering as if Jay's home is rather a freezer than a cozy warm home. Jay's hearts breaks for his best friend, for the woman he is secretly in love with.
"Shhh, I got you, Lils. Can you tell me what hurts?" Jay once again tries to get a coherent answer out of his partner to keep her awake.
"My- my- everything hurts. Chestā¦ help me, 'm so coldā¦" The woman stumbles over her words breathlessly, he feels something wet run down his bare chest.
"Don't you cry, honey. We've got ya." He rocks her shivering body until Will is finally back with his equipment to examine the clearly sick young woman.
---
"What's wrong?" The detective asks his brother who just pulls out the stethoscope out of his ears and squeezes Lily's shoulder reassuringly.
"Her lungs are crackling and she still seems to have trouble breathing. She has definitively pneumonia. I really would like to see her in Med, butā¦" Will looks at his brother, "the snowfalls are getting heavier if this is even possible. So I will start an IV and get some fluids and antibiotics into her. Her high fever is also concerning me." The redheaded doctor pinches the bridge of his nose," I'm just glad she came here. Alone at home in her stateā¦ I don't want to think any further."
Jay slumps down at the far end of his couch, his head in his hands. What would have happened if Lily stayed at home? Fuck, he thanks all hers and his guardian angles that she made it to his house in one piece. He is going to make it up to her. She is sick and hurt because of him but he is not going to let her down one more time. He has to take his head out of his ass and be man for once.
"Okay, let's get her more comfortable in my bed and then you can start the IVā¦"
---
Lily's eyes snap open when she feels the venous catheter piercing trough the delicate skin of the back of her hand.
"Noā¦no. I don't need thatā¦ I'm okay. He will be backā¦ we going homeā¦" Lily tried to shy away the hands of the doctor who is going to insert the needle into her vein. Medical attention will only lead to more pain. That is what she learned the first years she spent at her foster parent's house. Never complain about being in pain, crying for yourself in your hideout, never ever tell anybody what happens behind the closed doors of your foster parent's home. That were Lily's rules she lay down for herself. Simple rules to keep her alive. Why is now someone trying to insert a needle into her vein? It must be a doctor she can make out the stethoscope around his neck. But he doesn't wear a white coat and the room she is in doesn't smell like a hospital room or a cramped ER cubicle. The bed is also much more comfortable than the ones in the hospital. She feels the mattress dip on the other side and a warm and soft hand cupping her left cheek.
"Lily, it's okay. Will is just helpingā¦" Jay whispers just loud enough that she can hear him but not loud enough to startle her. The young woman is clearly not aware of her surroundings. "You're staying at mine tonight. You're safe here."
Her eyes are fanatically searching something or someone in the room until her gaze finally falls on her partner Jay.
"Jayā¦", she breathes out which sounds like she is relieved to see someone familiar. "I-I-m not allowedā¦no doctor. He will hurt meā¦ kill meā¦" Lily's breathing is increasing and her heart is hammering painfully in her chest. When her foster father sees her with a man and getting medical attention, she's not going to last when he gets his hands on her. The high fever is playing tricks on her brain. The young woman clearly can't separate her horrific memories and the things she registers now.
"Lily, honey. He's not coming here. It's just Will and me. You're sick. You need help. Let Will help youā¦" Jay lays down beside Lily and starts to stroke her head softly, playing with her silky hair like he always does when she fell asleep with her head in his lap. The familiar touch is calming her down and Will tried once again to insert the needle into her vein. He needs to start the IV now, she seems almost delirious from her high fever and every minute longer in this state is getting more dangerous.
---
It's now 4:00 in the morning. Jay's bedroom is illuminated by the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Jay's soothing words and the physical contact by stroking Lily's face has helped to calm her down. Will was finally able to put her on the much needed IV with fluids and the antibiotics.
"You can go to sleep, I will stay with her." Jay murmurs into Will's direction when he cleaned up the mess on the nightstand where he dumped the packaging of the infusion and the rest of the equipment he needed for Lily's treatment.
Will is more than worried for the young woman laying in his brothers bed. After administering her the medications he checked her fever and her temperature was sky high. No wonder she was hallucinating. He prays that her temperature will go down in the next hour otherwise they have to take her to the hospital, closed streets and blizzard aside. The redhead slowly stands up from his crouching position on the floor beside the bed and takes a step in his brother's direction.
Summary: Bradley and Jake are back in Miramar and are happy to surprise their girlfriend at the base. But when they enter her office they're not greeted with their girl but with an unusual chaos. Where is y/n?
Trigger warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, attempt SA, violence against women, blood, injuries, hospital, language
A/N: Here is the next part of my little TopGun fic. Finally we have our pilots back *.* Thanks for reading =)
Word Count:4.1k +
Jake and Bradley make their way over to y/n's office, when Bob leads Nat into Javy's teaching room, since the recruits have a short coffee break.
A soft knock is the only thing which can be heard in the empty office when both pilots enter the room. Their gazes land on the empty chair behind the desk.
"Where is she?" Jake asks confused when he turns to the other pilot who also looks surprised to see the office being empty.
"Maybe on a coffee run?" Bradley suggests and starts to make his way out of the office to search their girlfriend in the mass, where she probably gets herself a hot coffee.
"Hey, Rooster. Lookā¦" Jake points to y/n's desk and on the floor. Papers and other items are spread across the floor. He takes a step closer to the wooden furniture when a shiny object catches his eyes. He bends down and picks up the plane shaped paperweight.
"What the fuckā¦" He mumbles when he sees that there's blood smeared on the front of the plane.
Bradley takes a closer on y/n's desk and immediately sees the puddle of dried up blood in the center of the table.
She must've hurt herself. But it's too much blood for a papercut or a cut from her scissors. He holds his breath and his whole body stiffens. Still confused from the bloody statue Jake notices the change in his boyfriend and turns around to see what Bradley just discovered.
"What happened here? Where is y/n?" The blonde whispers to Rooster.
Like two men on a mission they hurry out of the office, searching for someone who can explain what the freaking Hell happened there.
"Where's y/n?" Bradley shouts when he sees Maverick in the hallway on his way over to them.
Pete is more than confused, both aviators look panicked, almost out of their minds.
"She's not there. Her office is a mess, there's blood on her deskā¦" Jake rambles.
"Hey, slow down slow down. What's wrong?" Pete asks more confused than ever.
Bradley takes a deep breath and explains the situation to their superior. He knows that he has to calm down, the same way when they're on a mission or flying their jets. The three men make their way back to y/n's office.
"I didn't see her today and the Bronco wasn't in the parking lot when I came some minutes ago. I thought she starts later today, we had a big sever breakdown yesterday and she stayed until late in the evening to save some of the data." Maverick explains to the men in front of him.
They have to find her and when the Bronco isn't in the parking lot she's probably still at home. There has to be a logical explanation for the mess and the blood in her office. Maybe she just cut herself and searched for a band aid and just left her office in this mess because it was just too late and she was exhausted. But her office wasn't locked and the blood on the paperweight is also unsettling.
---
Jake drives as fast as he can to their shared home. Despite both men trying to keep calm and find logical explanation for the situation they can't help themselves and have a bad feeling which only increases when they finally made it to their house seeing the Bronco in the drive way with one tire parked in the rose bed.
Not waiting another minute Jake and Bradley jump out of the SUV and both sprint to the front door of their cozy home.
"Fuck, where are my keys." The blonde curses when he searches his pockets for the keys.
"Here let meā¦" Bradley steps around his nervous boyfriend and opens the door.
Finally entering their home they start to search for their girlfriend frantically. Jake stands in front of her closed bedroom door, ready to enter the room.
"Bradley, her door is locked, she has to be here." Jake says before he starts to knock at the locked door and shouts the name of their girlfriend. With one last verbal warning he kicks down the door but is greeted with an empty bed.
"Bathroom!" The brunette pilot sprints into the direction of said room, the last possibility where the young woman could be.
"Y/n? You in there? Please say somethingā¦" But both are confronted with silence.
"Baby, we're coming inā¦" Jake warns before he kicked down the second door for today.
---
The sight they're greeted with is nothing both could've been prepared for. Before them is laying their girlfriend curled into a ball under her fluffy towel. Ghostly pale, she almost looks dead.
"No! Babyā¦" Jake is the first one to kneel beside the still body of their girlfriend. The blue tinged lips of the young woman are just another catalyst to spiral further into panic. With trembling fingers he touches her carotid searching for a pulse. Bradley is still standing behind his boyfriend towering above both his partners too shocked to get into action.
"Pulse is steady, but she's extremely cold." The blonde talks into the quiet room.
"Babygirl? Can you hear me?" He softly turns her onto her back to access her body and looking for possible injuries. He gasps when he sees her head laceration and the small blood puddle where her head was positioned before he turned her on her back. The bruise on her delicate cheek and her black eye are a stark contrast to her ghostly pale face. He looks further down and his heart nearly stops when he sees the black and blue hand prints on their girlfriend's neck. Someone has beaten her and chocked her so heavy to leave these prominent hand shaped marks.
"Noā¦" Jake's gasp brings the other pilot finally out of his shock and he also kneels down beside the blonde. Reaching for one of y/n's cold hands.
Hangman pulls the towel which is still hiding the small woman's body further down.
A turmoil of emotions is bubbling in his chest when he sees the full damage. Hand shaped bruises on her shoulders and arms, a dark purple bruise on her side, the blood on her head.
Rage, hate, helplessness and a huge emptiness is squeezing Jake's ribcage.
"Who did this?" Rooster growled when he sees their girlfriend's injuries, clearly inflicted by a human being. He feels y/n's hand switching in his big warm one. "Princess? We're here now, we're back. Can you hear me?" He soothingly whispers rubbing soft circles on her ice cold hand.
"P-p-please notā¦ Noā¦" The woman mumbles when she slowly opens her eyes.
---
She's cold, so cold. The underground she's laying on is also cold and very uncomfortable. Why is she so tired but is not engulfed in the cozy sheets of one of their beds? Y/n hears voices, a familiar mumbling but she can't comprehend where she is. Images of last night blend into her thoughts. Welsh grabbing her, hitting her, trying to sexual assault her. Is he still there? Is he back to finish what Michael once started and he continued? She knows that she needs to fight, for herself and for her future with her partners. Y/n tries to get rid of the warm hand that has her smaller one in a tight but not painful grip. Her other hand balls into a fist in an attempt to catch her attacker. But her whole body feels like it is made of cold unmoving granite. Pain rushes through every fiber of her body and she feels like it doesn't belong to her anymore. She has no control over her shaking and aching limbs. The young woman lets out mumbling noises, she can hear herself whimper but can't stop the sounds that are coming out of her mouth. The pain and the fear have fully taken control over her body and she knows that she stands no chance in case Welsh is back.
"Noo.." is the only word she form. She feels her heart beating furiously in her ribcage, panic bubbling further up in her lungs.
"Babygirl, you're safe. It's Roo-y and Jakey. Come on, show us your beautiful eyes." Jake coaxed her to open her eyes fully.
She knows this voice. It's Jake's warm voice and his signature nickname for her. But it has to be a dream, they're deployed. Maybe she's already dead or she is hallucinating.
It takes her some minutes to be somewhat coherent and register that her two boyfriends are really with her in the bathroom. She feels two warm hands enveloping her right one and she starts to squeeze as hard as she can as if she is afraid that the both men will disappear any second. A heart wrenching sob escapes her parted lips. She tries to sit up, she needs the physical contact of her boyfriends but her broken ribs and her other injuries are making it difficult for her to move her upper body.
"Hey, hey stay still okay." Jake tries to bring her back in the laying position but she grabs one of his arms and gives it another painful attempt to bring herself closer to one of her boyfriends.
Jake finally understands her actions and slowly sits her up. When y/n is finally cradled into the warm chest of the blonde aviator she lets out a painful sob. She survived. Welsh was not able to break her. He hurt her, he traumatized her, but he didn't get the chance to break her fully. She fought for her life and she escaped. Without help.
"Shhhā¦ shhhh. Baby, we're here now, It's going to be okay." Jake says with a thick voice full of emotions.
"Gonna call an ambulance." Rooster says when he softly strokes y/n's bare back cautious of her injuries and painful looking bruising.
"No, no ambulanceā¦please." Y/n throws herself into Bradley arms, fortunately he is able to catch her before she can hit the floor. Her eyes are open wide, full of panic and pain. She knows that she is in need of medical attention, but strangers intruding their privacy, seeing her half naked, bruised and panicked is the last thing she can handle right now.
"It's okay, Princess." Bradley whispers into the shell of her ear when she nuzzles her head into his chest breathing in his familiar scent.
"What did you say, Princess?" The brunette asks when he hears her mumble something into his chest. He feels her shaking so badly and her body is still ice cold. God knows how long she was wet and naked on the cold tiles. "Talk to us, baby." Jake encourages her to talk to both of them.
Y/n lifts her head, pinching her eyes shut when a wave of dizziness overcomes her and her vision turns black for some seconds. Bradley feels her wavering in his arms and cages her trembling body further into his arms.
"I- I fought back. He didn't... He wanted to, but I hit himā¦" Y/n stammers and squeezes Jake's thigh to ground herself against the strong dizziness which is still makes her head swim.
Bradley feels himself tearing up. Someone tried to sexually assault their girlfriend? He hopes he interprets her words wrong. But his gaze lands on her ripped and bloody blouse which Jake has in his hands now. The blonde aviator lets out an animalistic growl. Y/n shrieks into Bradley's chest afraid that Jake is mad at her.
"ā¦not a slutā¦I'm notā¦" She starts to weep desperately, fisting Rooster's uniform shirt into her trembling hands.
"Princess, who did this to you? Do you know who attacked you?" Bradley whispers as calm as possible. They need to know who did this to their girl. Is her ex out of prison and found her? That's nearly impossible. Was it someone they know or just a random attack and y/n an accidental victim?
The young woman in his warm arms starts to weep harder, wet tracks of her tears are marking his uniform. It takes a minute or two before y/n can talk again. She takes a deep breath but whimpers when the pain in her ribcage reminds her of her severe injuries.
"ā¦came into my o-office," she painfully breathes out, "W-Welshā¦"
The last thing Jake wants is to scare y/n any further but he has so much rage in him that he has to storm out of the bathroom to cool off.
---
Welsh attacked their girlfriend, hurt her that bad that they have to take to the hospital rather sooner than later. He choked her, beat her and he tried to rape her. Jake had never felt this much hate and rage in his bones. The guy developed from an annoying blighter to a sexual offender. Welsh is now his greatest enemy. The urge to kill that bastard with his bare hands nearly overshadows all of his thoughts. To calm his nerves and not going off the deep end into something stupid he paced around the living room, still hearing the faint weeping and Rooster's muttering out of the bathroom.
He fumbles with the pockets of his now crumbled uniform, searching for his mobile. He needs to call the base and inform Maverick about the whereabouts of y/n. Jake has several missed calls from Pete, Bob and Nat. All probably worried about their female friend. After taking a deep breath to calm his nerves he hit the call button, almost immediately hearing the Captain's greetings.
---
"Princessā¦shhh." The brunette pilot absolutely understands his partnerās reaction to y/n's words. He has the same rage and hatred in his bones by now, but he has to stay calm. He needs to support the weeping woman in his arms and not let his emotions take over.
"ā¦h-he rippedā¦blouseā¦" Y/n's breathing gets more laboured by every word but she needs to tell Bradley her thoughts, she feels like her emotions are going to suffocate her. "ā¦I hit himā¦"
"You did so good, Princess. So goodā¦" He places a soft kiss to her head, feeling her still wet hair. He knows that they have to take to the hospital, even if she is somewhat coherent now that she even could tell him pieces of the previous events she is far from being okay. When he cradles her deeper into his warm chest he strokes up and down her back to give her even more warmth. A painful cry of the woman in his arms brings him out of his raging thoughts. She's in pain. When he looks down her back he sees the angry bruise on her kidney area. This bastard kicked or punched her in her most sensitive area and hurt her weak kidney further.
"I'm sorry, Princess. I'm sorry. We- we have to get you up okay? You're shivering, we need to put on some dry clothes and we have to take you to the hospital." Her faint nodding against his chest is concerning him. In any other situation, high fever or pain, y/n would've fight tooth and nail to not go to the hospital. Her being content with seeing a doctor is a clear sign how much she has to suffer right now. His heart is breaking even more, if it's even possible.
"I'm going to pick you up, Princess. Gonna change in your bedroom, okay?" Bradley is determined to give her as much control over the situation as possible, even if he is well aware that she is nowhere near to walk into her bedroom or change herself into something dry.
When the pair finally made it into the bedroom he sits y/n down onto her bed. Her small shivering frame leaning heavily against his body as he sits beside her, contemplating his next moves.
"Roo-yā¦," he hears her saying in a small nearly inaudible voice, "is Jakey disgusted by me?" Y/n's voice quivers as she looks up at the brunette pilot with unfocused glassy eyes.
"Hey, hey, Princess. Don't you ever think one of us could ever be disgusted by you. We love you!" Bradley pulls her into his chest as cautious as possible, hoping that Jake would make an appearance as soon as possible to help him and more important to take care of their girlfriend. It's clear that y/n needs both of them right now.
"Heā¦ W-Welshā¦" Y/n shivers when the name of her attacker goes over her lips, "he called me a-a s-s-slutā¦"
"Sweetcakes, you're far from that. You're kind, beautiful, loveable and so much more. We love you." Fortunately Jake finished calling Mav seconds ago and calmed down enough to join his partners and help Bradley with attending y/n's wounds and taking her to the hospital.
Both aviators have a silent conversation and Jake doesn't waste another second and starts to rummage for some dry clothes.
With y/n's favorite leggings and one of his Navy Academy shirts he crouches in front of his partners.
"Y/n, I need to take off your underwear, is this okay?" His cautious question is answered with a slight nod of the woman in front of him.
The whole process of dressing their girlfriend takes a lot more time than both of them would have anticipated. But when she is finally clothed the pain and the shock are back full force. Her eyes are more unfocused than before and she starts to mumble unintelligibly, no longer able to sit up even when most of her weight is propped up against Bradley.
"I called Mav, he enrolled us already in the military hospital. We have to take her in now, she seems to deteriorate. "
---
When y/n is settled in the backseat with her head in Jake's lap, Bradley jumps into the driver's side of Jake's truck. The brunette knows that Jake needs the physical contact of their girlfriend now, he needs to see her breathing and being alive in his lap to keep his calm on the drive to the hospital.
"I think she's burning up, Roo." The blonde aviator notes when he brushes his hands over the clammy forehead of the woman in his lap.
Rooster has the steering wheel in a vice grip, his knuckles already turned white. Images play in his head from the bits and pieces y/n told him earlier. He sees Welsh hitting her, slamming her head against the wall or the desk. He sees this disgusting man ripping her blouse. But Bradley also sees y/n fighting. Fighting against this monster that is much bigger than her. But she made it. He thanks his parents, he thanks God that Jake and he are already back and he prays that this trauma is not going to break her. He knows that he and Jake will be there for her no matter what but he just prays that she still has trust in them. He doesn't know what he is going to do if she is slipping into that shell of a woman she was two years before.
No he KNOWS what they're going to do in this worst case scenario: They will get her out of this and they will be her support system. They love her and this alone is enough to move mountains. A tear slips down his cheek. He's never been so emotional over a woman except for his mother. But y/n is special and nothing can ever change his and Jake's love for her.
---
Y/n's shaking seems to increase during the drive to the hospital. Jake occasionally checks her pulse at her carotid even if she's trembling and whimpering from pain he is afraid that she slips between his fingers. When they stormed into the bathroom earlier she looks so pale and with her blue lips Jake's first thought was that they're too late. That their love is already dead. Even now that he knows she's alive that moment killed something in him. He will never forget these seconds of pain in his heart.
"Babygirl, I got you. You're safe." Jake whispers in y/n's direction when she starts to mumble something he cannot make out.
---
Mav pulled some strings at the Navy hospital that one of the aviators could stay with her in the small cubical of the ER. So Bradley, the calmer one of them, is now looking at the several nurses and the two doctors working on his girlfriend. He already informed them about her previous medical conditions and the previous events, as much as he knows.
Behind the huge glass door of the ER a nervous Jake Seresin is pacing the waiting area up and down. Mav informed him minutes ago that the military police is out there in search of Welsh. But so far there's no sign of the disgusting piece of shit. As much as Jake wants to put his hands on that guy he knows that y/n needs him more than ever. So he tries to work on his rage to be calm for her when he can finally see her again.
A hand on his shoulder stops him to pace another round in the waiting room.
"Hangmanā¦Jake, I'm sorry. I said I will keep an eye on herā¦" Bob's eyes are bloodshot when he looks up at his blonde colleague. The sudden movement of Jake's arm makes him flinch but instead of knocking him on his ass Jake envelopes his friend into a tight hug. The situation is taking a toll on all of them. They're friends, hell they are family and y/n is a member of that family since she first stepped foot on the base.
"There's no other to blame than that bastard and I need to restrain myself really hard not to go out there and find him myself" Jake growls.
The double door of the ER slides open and Bradley enters the waiting area, looking clearly exhausted.
The blonde aviator doesn't waste a second and hurries over to his partner hugging him into his chest, totally aware that now the cat is probably out of the sack for the other members. But he doesn't care that their poly relationship is no longer a secret between the three of them and Nat.
Slowly the other aviators make their way towards Bradley and Jake hoping for some good news.
When both release the comforting hug Bradley starts to speak not breaking the eye contact with his partner.
"Ehm, where should I startā¦" he pinches the bridge of his nose, his head hammering with a headache from stress and concern. "They glued her head wound and made a CT which was without noticeable problems, but she has a concussion. Her upper back, the side of her weak kidney is severely bruised, she has three broken ribs on the other side of her ribcage, fortunately they didn't injure her lungs. They put her on a broad-spectrum antibiotic because of her fever and her inflamed kidney. She's sleeping now, which is good." Bradley looks behind Jake to their friends to engage them in the conversation after all they're just as concerned as Jake and him.
Jake knows that there's more. Something must've happened, he can see it in his partners eyes.
Nat is the first one to speak up. "I think it's time for us to go home. Please tell her we said 'hi' and we're here for her and for you two." She hugs both her friends and waits for the other to say their good byes.
---
When their friends finally made their way home or back to the base to help find Welsh Bradley leads Jake to y/n's room. Even if the blonde can't wait to see for himself that their girlfriend is resting and was properly attended to he needs to investigate what has happened during the examination.
"What happened?" He stops his boyfriend by squeezing his shoulder. "You can't tell me shit, man. I know you." He softly strokes Bradley's back, his words came out harsher as he intended to.
"I told them the bits and pieces of what y/n told us what happened. And due to the accusation of SA, they did a rape kid." Bradley grabs Jake's hand to ground himself. He sees pure rage in Jake's eyes. "Hey, Jake calm down. They did it as a precaution, cause she was so out of it and not coherent. I told them that she said she fought him off before he got the chance but they told me it would've been safer when they do the kit. She freaked out. Her high feverā¦ I guess she was back in her office. I heard her screaming and crying. They told me to wait outside during the rape kitā¦ but when I heard her screaming and crying, Hell she begged them to stop I barged into the room. I was able to calm her down, but it was hard to see her in such a state." The brunette aviator is still under the impression of the events. Jake envelopes him in a bone crushing hug. "She was right though. The kit was negative." He breathes out, into his boyfriends shoulder.
"She's our fighter." Jake mumbles before they make their into y/n's hospital room.
