Ok, First⊠Iâm baaaack! Been a fierce few months and I have missed you all so much! Group hug here for those who hug. Big ole smiles for those who donât. Anyway, tuned in last week to #therookie only to find it was a RERUN of 6x2! Already? We only got two episodes of season 6. Then not on at all last night? Seriously, WTF? Waited sooooo long for Season 6 to begin, through writers strike then this? I want to quote Lucy from Peanuts (not our Officer Lucy) AAAARGH!
Tim so meant it when he said, "Lucy is different."đ
Lucy is nothing like any of his exes. In the past, we have seen him struggle to give gifts to his exes. But with Lucy his heart just knows her so well that it becomes easy and he chooses the perfect gift for her.đ„čđ„°
Fic prompt! Skinner's consternation and confusion while reading Eddie Van Blundht's report~.
eyyyy a second skinner fic from me in as many days! that poor man is overworked and underpaidđ
The Lesser Potato (383 words) by AgentTroi
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: The X-Files
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Walter Skinner
Additional Tags: Episode: s04e20 Small Potatoes, Missing Scene, Introspection, Ficlet, Tumblr Prompt
Summary:
Skinner ponders the case report written by Eddie Van Blundht masquerading as Mulder.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
i cant stop thinking of the gif of the kiwi jumping around its so funny the way that thing moves like gravity doesnât care about it it just prances wildly and freely it falls over but it doesnât care it just keeps moving and having fun and just keeps hopping and the party never stops itâs legitimately one of my favorite pieces of media on the internet the joy it brings me is unbridled
Didn't expect this to turn into a full-blown fic. it was supposed to be an imagine oop. please enjoy I spent too much time on this
rating: teen and up
warnings: bullet-related injuries, allusions to suicide, substance abuse, and abusive parents, also a building blows up
summary: Lucy is assigned to guard Tim. Unlike most mortals, he's aware of her presence, and they become friends as a result. Detailing their relationship through the years
@accidental-spice
~
Lucy is assigned to him the moment his soul blips into existence. She's a veteran guardian at this point, has helped plenty of humans through life from start to finish. The first few fleeting months are simply protecting his mom while she helps him grow, just until he's old enough to breathe on his own. Normally, this stage would be very peaceful and warm, but Tim's mom has a few life troubles of her own to sort through, and Lucy works closely with the woman's guardian to make sure Tim isn't harmed before he's born.
He's a screamer. He's a very serious baby, very judgy, very spirited. Lucy can tell she's in for quite the ride with this one.
It's completely routine at first. Children are a handful, and Tim is by no means an exception. He's not remarkably special, of course. There's tenuous strain in his family, but it's nothing Lucy hasn't seen before, and certainly nothing she can't handle. He gets himself into harmless trouble often. He's bright. He's curious. He's a kid. Lucy dotes on him because his parents don't, and she doesn't care that he won't feel any of it.
But suddenly Tim is special. He's three when it happens. He's inspired to spill some secret, and marches to his mother who's working in the kitchen, proudly announcing that he's got someone for her to meet. Lucy drifts beside him as he says it. She's formless. Invisible. Intangible. Nonetheless, Tim grabs her by the hand and calls her his "friend". It's never happened before. His mother smiles kindly. She looks right through Lucy and says it's a pleasure. Tim beams.
It's not a one-off occurrence. Tim knows she's there. It's a strange thing, and when she asks other guardians, most just grin. They say it will either make her job easier, or difficult ten-fold. (it turns out to be the latter of them, naturally). Tim knows she's there.
He hugs her back when he's scared, even if he can't touch her. She's the one he asks for when he's woken from a nightmare. He can feel her presence. If it didn't make him a reckless little freak, Lucy might almost find it fun.
But it's nothing serious, as far as she can tell, and it doesn't hamper her ability to perform. She stays with her mortal through everything; she's there for all of it. His first screams, his first hours of restless sleep, for every dangerous toy left in the cradle at night, and every wobbly arm that didn't hold his head just right. She was there for his first steps, holding his hands when his mother let go. She was there for his first words, his first laugh, his first meal of solid food. She was there for his first day of school, and his first adorable little crush, and his first letters handwritten with the help of a pencil gripper and the teacher's gentle hand. She was there for every skinned knee, every monkey bar blister, every fight, every trembling lip, every spilt juice box. She was there every time his father came home. She protected Tim through all of it.
She saw him through poor test grades, annoying younger siblings, summertime adventures, and bad family reunions. She saw him through the nightmare of secondary school, along with all its awkwardness and hormonal imbalances and voice cracks and social anxiety. She became his friend. He'd talk to her sometimes, ask for advice, or wonder if she was proud. Lucy couldn't talk back, but she could convey her sentiments, and that was enough for him.
There were plenty of things to protect Tim from. His dad was a big one, but they found out good ways to deal with it. and Lucy was an angel. she could redirect the angry man often enough without breaking a sweat, avoiding confrontation in the first place. Tim was too young to have to face that yet. Then there were cruel friends (and enemies) at school, teachers with an axe to grind and little help to offer. Lucy couldn't read aloud to him, but she found him someone who would, and his grades improved. She was there for the football tryouts of course. Those were a busy few days.
Tim happened to love a sport that got aggressive at his age. There was lots of pushing, and tripping, and a few nasty tail-spin take-downs that kept Lucy on high alert out there. Luckily, he had a good arm. Quarterbacks weren't roughed up too bad all the time. He told her he wanted to be a lineman, and she was grateful to the coach for deciding against it. She laughed at him the night after cuts. He was pouting.
At least he had a good outlet. He was under plenty of stress as a teenager. There were tough classes, and tough parents, and tough choices to make about the future. Lucy guided him as best she could, but he still grew hard a bit on the inside. it came without saying in this broken world, and an abusive father only sped the process along. Tim built up his walls against reality, because he was soft deep down and Lucy couldn't shelter him; that wasn't her job.
He really tested her sometimes. It was his signature thing. the Tim-tests. She found it endearing, mostly, but sometimes he went way overboard and got himself in a mess. Lucy would warn him, or stop him once, but he couldn't rely on her to be his conscious. He had to understand the consequences that came with stupid decisions. There was so much trust for her in him. But eventually he did start being responsible. It didn't take too long.
Until then Lucy stepped into bad situations with increasing exasperation. There was a beach party and a cliff jump just a little too high for human bones on impact. There was a football banquet where he drank and almost drowned in the pool. Then there was Gwen Kelsey and the back of her blue pick-up truck (and the bad news between her legs). If Lucy never had to perform a literal miracle to save Tim from genital warts again, it would be too soon.
To be clear, Lucy would never begrudge Tim's nature to seek danger out, but she could disapprove of his intentions. Intentionally putting himself in risky situations just because he trusted her to save his arse was not appreciated. Joining the military, on the other hand, was acceptable. Lucy didn't like war. The war of man had no glory.
But Tim had few prospects, and he would more easily survive on the front line than staying home. There were simply more bullets to deflect.
His time in the army was a sobering thing. it made him more jaded. Not optimal, but Lucy was an angel, and didn't shy away from human heartache. There were plenty of nightmares. Lucy did her best to soothe them away, along with the guilt and fear that came as a survivor. Tim allowed himself to be vulnerable with her. He didn't cry much anymore, but he let the emotion show when she was there. He asked her how to carry on. Lucy would wrap him in a hug, and he'd relax. He'd be comforted.
The tours came to an end when some manic demon guided a bullet through the minute gap in his body armor. From the angle of the shooter, it should never have landed like that, but it didn't really matter. Tim took the fall. Lucy fought the monster off. She redirected the bullet again, saving his lungs and heart. The doctor told him it was a miracle. He let out a broken laugh.
After military service, Tim needed to keep up the action, and decided to join the police. He took to it swimmingly, passionately, naturally, and it pleased Lucy to see. Tim was a kind man: a real softie, deep down. He wasn't on the force because he was good at barking orders and getting physical; he'd joined because he genuinely cared, and it was only easy because of his skills. For the first time in years, he'd found his place, and he could settle.
He made friends, he worked hard, he was determined to be of service. Isabel was the icing on the cake. They were a total delight to one another, and Lucy was often entertained by their synergy. The two were so alike. They made a good match.
Tim talked about her often when he was alone with Lucy. He wasn't one to gush, but Lucy had known him all his life, and she knew that Isabel was something special to him. Isabel was a bright future. Isabel was family that wouldn't hurt him, for a change. Isabel gave Tim so much hope and vibrance, brought so much light to his life. He wanted it to go on forever, he said. He said he was going to marry her.
And for years after the fact, the happiness lasted. Tim had found a good normal for himself. He and Isabel swore to be lifelong partners before a crowd of people they loved, and the celebration was delightful, excepting the few dark moments where demons plucked at Tom's shirt and he made Isabel cry. Lucy intervened quietly, despite it being outside her job description. Ruined weddings were despicable to her.
Life carried on with honeymoon ease. Tim was still his tough, commanding self, but his heart had a levity that made him glow. There were still tragedies every day on the job, but they weren't personal, and he performed well. He was helping people. He was happy.
But being a guardian couldn't mean basking in the good times. Lucy had to remain vigilant, regardless of how good a place everyone seemed to be in. The fairytale started to crumble after a few years, and Lucy knew right away because she was an angel and could see things that humans couldn't.
Isabel was on an op for weeks. The long stints took their toll on Tim, but he was strong, and he had Lucy to help him through the anxious nights. It was supposed to work out. They were supposed to work it out. But when Isabel finally came home, there were traces of rot in her veins. She needed help. She needed it now.
But Tim had fallen in love with his newfound happily ever after, and any threat to that was too awful to entertain. He ignored the hints Isabel dropped him. He tried to pretend like everything was fine. He even ignored Lucy's warnings, despite her insistence. As a result, Isabel slipped away.
The fallout was messy. It wrecked Tim. He tried too late to salvage the pieces of his ruined wife, after doing wrong by her, covering for her, lying to himself. In the end, most of the happiness he found after coming home from war was smashed to bits, leaving him worse off than ever and half as confident, twice as ruthless, retreating behind stone walls. Lucy did her best to save him from disaster, but she could only provide so much comfort without a physical voice and arms to hold him.
It was worse, having experienced a good life and losing it wholly, than never knowing it at all. When Isabel left, that was the last straw. Tim gave up. He locked his soft, kind heart away behind his many walls and focused on staying alive, going through the motions. Saving face. He pushed his friends away, daring to be vulnerable exclusively with Lucy, but even those vital moments dwindled as his light dimmed.
It was a dire situation, to be honest. A mortal that lost hope was a wretched, dangerous creature, and the longer this went on, the greater the surety stood that Tim would never be himself again. He'd never feel compassion, never be kind. He'd waste himself on sorrow and fear if Lucy didn't do something.
Luckily, he was a training officer.
Lucy devised a plan to show him the seriousness of his status. It was a severe strategy, only used by guardians in times of critical need. Clearly Tim was in need, and Lucy was obligated to help him. So she went to the academy and took on human form. She picked a name that mortals could pronounce. It wasn't her first act walking the earth. it still felt intense. She was accustomed to watching from the sidelines, but she was created with a gift of empathy, and fitting in was no trouble.
Six months and a few divine interventions later, she landed in the front row of the bullpen at mid-wilshire police station. When the Sergeant called Tim's name, he pointed at her.
At first, it was a shock to see him. He'd gotten worse. So much worse. He'd lost weight, lost sleep, lost any lingering trace of light in his eyes. There was a heavy weight in his gaze and the way he moved. One that hadn't been there six months ago. What changed? At the very least, he'd been stable. There'd been no reason for him to slip further down the dark hole Lucy pledged to haul him out of. Now, he was dangerously close to losing himself.
She didn't expect him to recognize her in that state. He didn't.
Any warmth he'd once possessed was frozen over by the time they started their first shift together. It felt wrong, and now that Lucy could feel physical things her stomach was a sinking knot. Tim was unsteady. Tim was not himself, walled off and detached. He cared a lot about people and it was grating at him to be like this, deep down, but Lucy had to work with what he gave her. She wasnât going to pull any punches.
He was merciless the first few days. Unapologetic, vicious, blunt and rude. He snapped back at everything she said, bossed her around, belittled her. If Lucy really was who she said, sheâd probably be hurt and greatly taken aback, but she knew Tim. He was in so much pain, and it was clear to her. The other rookies didnât seem to think so, and their concern was touching. But Lucy saw the way the other officers looked at her, like she was either a dead woman walking or a poor soul in for the most horrible year of her life. Angela and Talia were so worried. They told her to look out for herself, leaving the âbecause he wonâtâ unsaid. Lucy appreciated them. Even if they misplaced the roles.
When Tim got shot, Lucy was not afraid. Heâd been through worse, and this time she was there to hold his blood in. Her execution would make him proud if she were any rookie of the past. She directed Lopez to the two downed suspects, whipped her gloves on, and held Tim for the first time. He still tried to give her orders. Something angry and defensive. He looked terrible but heâd be okay. She made sure the bullet missed his important parts. Just like old times. A different doctor said the same thing: it was a miracle. Lucy wasnât in the room when the news hit, but she could feel Tim crying all the same.
The weeks it took him to heal were precarious. It was dangerous to leave him alone, but part of the gamble to assume human likeness was that she had consistent responsibilities, and they were distinct from Timâs life. She still made sure to check on him regularly, and she was there when he was discharged. He despised her by the end of it. He felt patronized, and pitied, despite Lucyâs insistence. Always a stubborn man. Her words meant a lot less in the mouth of a mortal, even if they were clearer now than anything sheâd said to him before.
Whatever else came from her efforts before he was cleared, he gained a modicum of respect for her. She could be just as persistent as him if she wanted, and heâd known that seven months ago. They were starting from scratch now. It was going to be rough.
Eventually, the Tim-tests came back. It felt like a breath of fresh air. While Tim was no less cut-throat and no more entertained than before, Lucy counted the violent slamming on brakes and demand for a location as a victory. He was getting a very important part of himself back, clawing, taking it by force. It hurt a lot, but the progress mattered so much. Lucy was happy to play along. Sure, she could read his mind, anticipate the nature of each test and answer him correctly every time, but the man needed to feel himself being productive. Even if that meant ruthlessly pummeling her for the sake of a lesson learned. She could take the heat.
Things after that became less bad, for lack of a better term. Tim leveled out well enough, to the point that Lucy trusted him to be alone with himself. There was little in life for him to enjoy at the moment, but she sensed that he at least found respite in the day spent with her, fighting crime, stopping tragedy, being human. He hated to talk to her, loathed her enjoyment in the act. He wanted to be alone. He closed himself off time and time again, even if a clever enough detective might connect the dots from all the friendly seconds she extorted from him, there was little substance she could glean unless she pushed him hardâwhich always involved a tough fallout.
There was one bad day she pushed it. The day was still young, and their calls had been mild. Tim hadnât slept well. He looked like a wreck, even if he didnât let it affect his performance. Lucy started talking. He liked her voice, she could tell, despite his claims of finding it annoying. She talked about psychology, which he hated, and she pushed him, and he hated that too. She pushed, and she pushed, and she asked him so many questions. Eventually he snapped, tired and defeated and white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel, right foot near through the floor of the shop. The vehicle lurched roughly, and Tim worked his jaw. He looked so angry, and so sad, and so tired. His eyes were very tired. âLook,â he forced out around the thickness in his throat. âI just lost someone very close to me. Iâm not in the mood to answer prying questions.â
Lucy could have swooped in with even more psychology. She could have cited a hundred various grieving tactics, ranging from self-destructive to completely healing, based both on psychological case studies and personal testament. She might have, under other circumstances. But this was Tim. She knew everything about his life, and taking on human form hadnât changed that. She knew everyone he cared about, everyone close to him, and no one matched his claim. Isabel had been gone for over a year. His grief for her was nothing fresh. Not like this. And Lucy could tell that he was truthful in his statement because she was an angel and knew her way around his sentiments, his surface level thoughts. This was real, and she couldnât think of anyone he might love enough to mourn with this much devastation.
After a long, sober moment not knowing what to say, Lucy folded her hands neatly and projected calm into the cabin. It wasnât the same coming from a human body, but she was still an angel and it worked well enough. Just enough to form a truce with Tim. âWhat was this person like?â
Tim wrestled with an answer, paging a few harsh comments through consideration before giving up. A muscle in his jaw twitched. âShe didnât talk as much as you.â He said, and his voice was soft when he did.
It took Tim a while to stop resenting her, to stop taking out his frustrations on her. It took him a while, and a few verbal reprimands from his friends at the precinct before his torture of her ended. Apparently he was harsh, but never this harsh with rookies. Even the sergeant asked Lucy if she wanted a new TO. She wouldnât hear of it. Tim was her charge, and she wanted to help him as long as she could. He was hurting a lot, but he was salvageable. He was still good. Despite the pain he was going through, he chose to not give in at the start of every day, chose to consistently do the right thing, to serve people in need. His execution was flawed but very redeemable. And it was working out slowly but surely.
Tim warmed up to Lucy in his own way. The process was painfully gradual, even for a being whoâd lived innumerable years within the constraints of time. Lucy was a creature of patience, but Tim was dragging it out. It took him weeks to stop actively hating her. She bought him hot wings to commemorate the occasion, ditched them on his doorstep the night his team was playingâwhich he didnât watch with the same enthusiasm anymore, but still appreciated.
From there, they graduated to relying on one another during calls. Lucy had his respect, she knew, and sheâd solidly proven herself a capable officer, but it was different for Tim to trust her with his life. It was nostalgic for both of them, except Tim was being bittersweet about it.Â
He started caring again, just a little bit at first, because jumping back in would exhaust him outright. It started with just covering her, making sure she didnât die. Then he acknowledged her discretion. He listened when she spoke, didnât just tune her out. He was more resigned than heâd ever been all his life, but he was coming to realize that life continued whether he was there for it or not, and peace was weaseling its way into his mind.
It was months on the job before Lucy saw him smile again. Heâd pranked her with a surprise Tim-test, tucked away in a trash can in the middle of a park. The whole situation had thrown her off guard because heâd actually been enjoying himself. Baby powder exploded in her face. Tim was there to enshrine the moment in his memory. Through the blur, he lectured her about bombs and radio waves, and both corners of his mouth were slanted up. He shone softly with satisfaction. Victory.
Their relationship developed slowly but surely. They respected each other, they trusted each other, and they eventually grew to like each other. The haunted looks of the other TOs and all of Timâs friends turned relieved, grateful. Angela pulled Lucy aside one day and thanked her sincerely. âWe were worried about him. He never told us what happened. Look, whatever youâre doing, keep doing it.â Tim never told Lucy either. She was just happy to see him back on his feet. He still carried an enormous grief with him: one heâd likely never shed as long as he lived, but he was so strong. He would be okay.
Lucy was there when Isabel got caught. Isabel had ruined herself, and it ruined Tim too. It hurt a lot to go through again, for both of them. At least Lucy could hold him now, place a steady hand on his shoulder and say a few fortifying words. It helped a lot more this time around. Isabel was caught, deep in trouble, desperate to cut a deal that almost cost what remained of her life. Tim leaned on Lucy then, unknowingly. Isabel went away for her health, divorced Tim and made it final. It was rough. At least it was closure. Tim grieved the loss of his best life as well as he knew how, and it was far from easy for anyone involved. Lucy didnât shy away. She could hold him now and she did, as far as heâd let her.
They became tentative friends, on Timâs part, because Lucy wanted to regain what theyâd had all his life, and he remained waryâunderstandably so. He was going through a lot. She knew that. She wasnât pushing. But now they could share light conversation without any sour emotion to discolor the atmosphere. They could crack jokes, share gifts, perform favors. Tim was fighting through the pain to get himself back. His fire was a thing of beauty. He made Lucy laugh sometimes, and always stopped to stare a little. She caught him once with a sad, longing half smile. âWhat is it?â She asked, still grinning. He looked away quickly. Swiped at his eyes. âNothing. You just remind me of someone I knew.â
By the time Caleb came into the picture, they were solid partners, on good terms. They went out with friends, shared trade secrets, and Tim was getting used to being comfortable with her. Being kind to her. Empathetic. Compassionate. Old traits heâd had a long time ago. He apologized for the awful first few months of her training. She just shook her head and grinned. She knew. She told him she knew, she understood, sheâd forgiven him completely. Then Rosalind Dyer kicked up a fuss, and Caleb lost luck on a victim, which meant he was desperate. It went outside of Lucyâs job description to use herself like this but she could help lots of people by getting Caleb convicted. Before she called him, invited him out for a fateful few drinks, she pulled Tim aside. He was doing well. She didnât want this event to throw him through the ringer again.
âI know you have my back.â She told him. âI trust you. Whatever happens with this case will not be your fault.â Heâd been confused, and worried to hear that, and he was near hysterical when he pulled her from the barrel with bloody hands, split skin from clawing at the dirt in raw desperation. She was an angel, not a human. Asphyxiation couldnât hurt her when she didnât need to breathe. The drugs hadnât really done a thing in her drinks except make them taste like crap, so she faked the snooze and made Caleb haul her (fake) snoring dead weight from the bar to his car trunk. The whole fiasco would be amusing if Tim hadnât gone so crazy because of it. He squeezed her with a hug, holding so tight and shaking while Lucy narced on his three broken nails. His laugh was wet and broken. Caleb lived. He stood trial. He was sentenced to die.
Tim and Lucy were so tight after that. Everyone was suspicious of her incredible rebound, but sheâd dealt with much worse in past assignments as a guardianânot that she could tell anyone that much. Tim forgot himself in his desire to help her. It was an incredible leap of progress, so close to where he started. He was so kind, and so thoughtful, and he went out of his way to make her smile because he hated that she thought to do it for him first. He didnât need restitution after she went through what she did. He was selfless. Lucy, in turn, rebuked any of his lingering guilt and shame.
There were times when he forgot the nature of their professional relationship. He treated them like partners, as though they operated on the same level of authority. And even though his nagging and stubbornness and Tim-tests never once saw slack, Lucy was totally pleased to carry on like this. Taking on the world together. Performing miracles. Doing wonders of good. It was a beautiful arrangement that took them past the dynamic between a rookie and her TO. Lucy knew he saw her differently, cared about her differently, worried about her differently. He was protective in a different way, and not because of guilt or shame. Or because he felt responsible for her. She could attest the same things too. Tim had been special since he was three years old. Sheâd do anything to protect him.
There was one call that tested her mettle. It changed them. The fire started small in the big apartment building. They were the first to respond, and the building was mostly empty in the half minute it took them to arrive. But there were people still inside. And they were charged with running in easily. They herded out the motile ones, carrying those injured by the building giving way. It was the last time they went in that the building sat down, slouching in and trapping them where they were. Just one person left. They were cornered in the hall with the kid tucked in Timâs arms. There was no way out of the fire. All exits were blocked by rubble and branding hot rebars, and the fire grew still, reaching the gas line now. Tim was afraid of dying. The kid was afraid of dying, in spite of adamant reassurances. Tim crouched in the corner, rocked the crying child and gave Lucy a horrible look. He didnât think heâd make it out alive, and maybe he wouldnât. The thought was discouraging. Heâd just gotten his crap back together. Lucy knelt beside him, determined, wrapped them both in her wings as the fire swelled. The explosion shook the buildingâs foundation soundly. They were near the ground, a lower level, so the windows burst out in the deafening roar of flame. It was a death sentence. A barbecue. But Lucy was a guardian, and her mandate was to protect. So she did. She was an angel; manipulating fire was something of second-nature. The heat ran white hot around them but Lucy didnât see, just squeezed both eyes shut like Tim and pressed her forehead close like Tim. It took a long time for the flames to die down. No one rushed in to save themâwhich Lucy could understand. They should be dead. Everyone would be assuming them dead by now.
But Tim and the kid were fine, which was nothing short of a miracle. She let them breathe the stale air.
Timâs confusion left him mute. Though that could have been the shock as well. He stared at her. Hard. Then the kid sat up and blinked at the fire, blinked at the collapsed building around them, blinked at Lucy and said âyouâre an angel.â like it was obvious. It probably was.
They emerged from the ruined, blackened skeleton to behold awestruck faces. Superficial burns only. It was a miracle they said, and Tim buckled, and Lucy caught him by the arm while he fainted at those words. They were whisked away by medical responders immediately. So much chaos. There wasnât time to spare between tests and discharge to see Tim. The next time they saw each other was back on duty, in front of everyone who wanted to see. Tim didnât seem to care about the audience. He grabbed her hands and his knees gave way again.
âItâs you.â He breathed, strangled and agonized. âAll this time, it was you. Itâs you.â Lucy hauled him to his feet, told him not to kneel for her, though by now there were undisguised tears dripping steadily from his chin. He was trying to process, trying to find the words. âI wanted to be here.â She said, squeezing his hands. She tugged him down for a hug, finally wrapped her arms around his body in the way sheâd needed to for years. âTo give you this.â He folded himself into her embrace, trembling violently, squeezing her so hard and so tight she couldnât inflate her lungs at all, like he was afraid sheâd vanish from the physical world at any given moment.
âYou left.â He whispered, at a level their onlookers wouldnât pick up. âWithout warning. I lost you.â The accusation was biteless, but it gave Lucy chills anyway. Sheâd come to Earth without warning, without saying a word to him about her plan. Six months was but a breath for ageless angels, but for Tim whoâd never lived a day without feeling her presence, to wake up one day completely alone for the first time ever, it must have been horrifying. Had he felt abandoned? Lost? So soon after Isabel left, how many frightening lonely nights had he spent waiting and waiting for her to reappear? Had he called for her? Had she broken his heart? It was such a fragile thing, and heâd built so many walls to protect it but Lucy had the keys to them all.
âYou werenât there.â He cried. âYou werenât there to fill the gaps or hear me cry or say Iâd crossed a lineâyou were just gone.â His flowing tears turned to broken sobs, right there in the middle of the precinct, but Lucy didnât care. She just held him and held him and held him back just as tight and maybe shed a few human tears of her own.
âI missed you like Iâve never missed anything.â Tim said.
Lucy tightened her grip. What else was there to do? It was exactly what sheâd come to do, and her absence was a thing of the past now. She could explain everything when there was time to speak, with real words, like sheâd never spoken to Tim before. Now they were a team. They could fix this heartbreak together. âIâll never leave you again.â
âDonât.â His chest was full of rubble. âPlease donât.â
Just had a little wonder pop into my aged brain.... Do you think Tim Bradford's habit of always wearing either a denim shirt, jacket or something to cover his arms and back have to do with scars he may have or think he has from his childhood? I notice he doesn't ever appear bare chested until he's in an intimate relationship setting. Just curious, what do you all think?
Didn't expect this to turn into a full-blown fic. it was supposed to be an imagine oop. please enjoy I spent too much time on this
rating: teen and up
warnings: bullet-related injuries, allusions to suicide, substance abuse, and abusive parents, also a building blows up
summary: Lucy is assigned to guard Tim. Unlike most mortals, he's aware of her presence, and they become friends as a result. Detailing their relationship through the years
@accidental-spice
~
Lucy is assigned to him the moment his soul blips into existence. She's a veteran guardian at this point, has helped plenty of humans through life from start to finish. The first few fleeting months are simply protecting his mom while she helps him grow, just until he's old enough to breathe on his own. Normally, this stage would be very peaceful and warm, but Tim's mom has a few life troubles of her own to sort through, and Lucy works closely with the woman's guardian to make sure Tim isn't harmed before he's born.
He's a screamer. He's a very serious baby, very judgy, very spirited. Lucy can tell she's in for quite the ride with this one.
It's completely routine at first. Children are a handful, and Tim is by no means an exception. He's not remarkably special, of course. There's tenuous strain in his family, but it's nothing Lucy hasn't seen before, and certainly nothing she can't handle. He gets himself into harmless trouble often. He's bright. He's curious. He's a kid. Lucy dotes on him because his parents don't, and she doesn't care that he won't feel any of it.
But suddenly Tim is special. He's three when it happens. He's inspired to spill some secret, and marches to his mother who's working in the kitchen, proudly announcing that he's got someone for her to meet. Lucy drifts beside him as he says it. She's formless. Invisible. Intangible. Nonetheless, Tim grabs her by the hand and calls her his "friend". It's never happened before. His mother smiles kindly. She looks right through Lucy and says it's a pleasure. Tim beams.
It's not a one-off occurrence. Tim knows she's there. It's a strange thing, and when she asks other guardians, most just grin. They say it will either make her job easier, or difficult ten-fold. (it turns out to be the latter of them, naturally). Tim knows she's there.
He hugs her back when he's scared, even if he can't touch her. She's the one he asks for when he's woken from a nightmare. He can feel her presence. If it didn't make him a reckless little freak, Lucy might almost find it fun.
But it's nothing serious, as far as she can tell, and it doesn't hamper her ability to perform. She stays with her mortal through everything; she's there for all of it. His first screams, his first hours of restless sleep, for every dangerous toy left in the cradle at night, and every wobbly arm that didn't hold his head just right. She was there for his first steps, holding his hands when his mother let go. She was there for his first words, his first laugh, his first meal of solid food. She was there for his first day of school, and his first adorable little crush, and his first letters handwritten with the help of a pencil gripper and the teacher's gentle hand. She was there for every skinned knee, every monkey bar blister, every fight, every trembling lip, every spilt juice box. She was there every time his father came home. She protected Tim through all of it.
She saw him through poor test grades, annoying younger siblings, summertime adventures, and bad family reunions. She saw him through the nightmare of secondary school, along with all its awkwardness and hormonal imbalances and voice cracks and social anxiety. She became his friend. He'd talk to her sometimes, ask for advice, or wonder if she was proud. Lucy couldn't talk back, but she could convey her sentiments, and that was enough for him.
There were plenty of things to protect Tim from. His dad was a big one, but they found out good ways to deal with it. and Lucy was an angel. she could redirect the angry man often enough without breaking a sweat, avoiding confrontation in the first place. Tim was too young to have to face that yet. Then there were cruel friends (and enemies) at school, teachers with an axe to grind and little help to offer. Lucy couldn't read aloud to him, but she found him someone who would, and his grades improved. She was there for the football tryouts of course. Those were a busy few days.
Tim happened to love a sport that got aggressive at his age. There was lots of pushing, and tripping, and a few nasty tail-spin take-downs that kept Lucy on high alert out there. Luckily, he had a good arm. Quarterbacks weren't roughed up too bad all the time. He told her he wanted to be a lineman, and she was grateful to the coach for deciding against it. She laughed at him the night after cuts. He was pouting.
At least he had a good outlet. He was under plenty of stress as a teenager. There were tough classes, and tough parents, and tough choices to make about the future. Lucy guided him as best she could, but he still grew hard a bit on the inside. it came without saying in this broken world, and an abusive father only sped the process along. Tim built up his walls against reality, because he was soft deep down and Lucy couldn't shelter him; that wasn't her job.
He really tested her sometimes. It was his signature thing. the Tim-tests. She found it endearing, mostly, but sometimes he went way overboard and got himself in a mess. Lucy would warn him, or stop him once, but he couldn't rely on her to be his conscious. He had to understand the consequences that came with stupid decisions. There was so much trust for her in him. But eventually he did start being responsible. It didn't take too long.
Until then Lucy stepped into bad situations with increasing exasperation. There was a beach party and a cliff jump just a little too high for human bones on impact. There was a football banquet where he drank and almost drowned in the pool. Then there was Gwen Kelsey and the back of her blue pick-up truck (and the bad news between her legs). If Lucy never had to perform a literal miracle to save Tim from genital warts again, it would be too soon.
To be clear, Lucy would never begrudge Tim's nature to seek danger out, but she could disapprove of his intentions. Intentionally putting himself in risky situations just because he trusted her to save his arse was not appreciated. Joining the military, on the other hand, was acceptable. Lucy didn't like war. The war of man had no glory.
But Tim had few prospects, and he would more easily survive on the front line than staying home. There were simply more bullets to deflect.
His time in the army was a sobering thing. it made him more jaded. Not optimal, but Lucy was an angel, and didn't shy away from human heartache. There were plenty of nightmares. Lucy did her best to soothe them away, along with the guilt and fear that came as a survivor. Tim allowed himself to be vulnerable with her. He didn't cry much anymore, but he let the emotion show when she was there. He asked her how to carry on. Lucy would wrap him in a hug, and he'd relax. He'd be comforted.
The tours came to an end when some manic demon guided a bullet through the minute gap in his body armor. From the angle of the shooter, it should never have landed like that, but it didn't really matter. Tim took the fall. Lucy fought the monster off. She redirected the bullet again, saving his lungs and heart. The doctor told him it was a miracle. He let out a broken laugh.
After military service, Tim needed to keep up the action, and decided to join the police. He took to it swimmingly, passionately, naturally, and it pleased Lucy to see. Tim was a kind man: a real softie, deep down. He wasn't on the force because he was good at barking orders and getting physical; he'd joined because he genuinely cared, and it was only easy because of his skills. For the first time in years, he'd found his place, and he could settle.
He made friends, he worked hard, he was determined to be of service. Isabel was the icing on the cake. They were a total delight to one another, and Lucy was often entertained by their synergy. The two were so alike. They made a good match.
Tim talked about her often when he was alone with Lucy. He wasn't one to gush, but Lucy had known him all his life, and she knew that Isabel was something special to him. Isabel was a bright future. Isabel was family that wouldn't hurt him, for a change. Isabel gave Tim so much hope and vibrance, brought so much light to his life. He wanted it to go on forever, he said. He said he was going to marry her.
And for years after the fact, the happiness lasted. Tim had found a good normal for himself. He and Isabel swore to be lifelong partners before a crowd of people they loved, and the celebration was delightful, excepting the few dark moments where demons plucked at Tom's shirt and he made Isabel cry. Lucy intervened quietly, despite it being outside her job description. Ruined weddings were despicable to her.
Life carried on with honeymoon ease. Tim was still his tough, commanding self, but his heart had a levity that made him glow. There were still tragedies every day on the job, but they weren't personal, and he performed well. He was helping people. He was happy.
But being a guardian couldn't mean basking in the good times. Lucy had to remain vigilant, regardless of how good a place everyone seemed to be in. The fairytale started to crumble after a few years, and Lucy knew right away because she was an angel and could see things that humans couldn't.
Isabel was on an op for weeks. The long stints took their toll on Tim, but he was strong, and he had Lucy to help him through the anxious nights. It was supposed to work out. They were supposed to work it out. But when Isabel finally came home, there were traces of rot in her veins. She needed help. She needed it now.
But Tim had fallen in love with his newfound happily ever after, and any threat to that was too awful to entertain. He ignored the hints Isabel dropped him. He tried to pretend like everything was fine. He even ignored Lucy's warnings, despite her insistence. As a result, Isabel slipped away.
The fallout was messy. It wrecked Tim. He tried too late to salvage the pieces of his ruined wife, after doing wrong by her, covering for her, lying to himself. In the end, most of the happiness he found after coming home from war was smashed to bits, leaving him worse off than ever and half as confident, twice as ruthless, retreating behind stone walls. Lucy did her best to save him from disaster, but she could only provide so much comfort without a physical voice and arms to hold him.
It was worse, having experienced a good life and losing it wholly, than never knowing it at all. When Isabel left, that was the last straw. Tim gave up. He locked his soft, kind heart away behind his many walls and focused on staying alive, going through the motions. Saving face. He pushed his friends away, daring to be vulnerable exclusively with Lucy, but even those vital moments dwindled as his light dimmed.
It was a dire situation, to be honest. A mortal that lost hope was a wretched, dangerous creature, and the longer this went on, the greater the surety stood that Tim would never be himself again. He'd never feel compassion, never be kind. He'd waste himself on sorrow and fear if Lucy didn't do something.
Luckily, he was a training officer.
Lucy devised a plan to show him the seriousness of his status. It was a severe strategy, only used by guardians in times of critical need. Clearly Tim was in need, and Lucy was obligated to help him. So she went to the academy and took on human form. She picked a name that mortals could pronounce. It wasn't her first act walking the earth. it still felt intense. She was accustomed to watching from the sidelines, but she was created with a gift of empathy, and fitting in was no trouble.
Six months and a few divine interventions later, she landed in the front row of the bullpen at mid-wilshire police station. When the Sergeant called Tim's name, he pointed at her.
At first, it was a shock to see him. He'd gotten worse. So much worse. He'd lost weight, lost sleep, lost any lingering trace of light in his eyes. There was a heavy weight in his gaze and the way he moved. One that hadn't been there six months ago. What changed? At the very least, he'd been stable. There'd been no reason for him to slip further down the dark hole Lucy pledged to haul him out of. Now, he was dangerously close to losing himself.
She didn't expect him to recognize her in that state. He didn't.
Any warmth he'd once possessed was frozen over by the time they started their first shift together. It felt wrong, and now that Lucy could feel physical things her stomach was a sinking knot. Tim was unsteady. Tim was not himself, walled off and detached. He cared a lot about people and it was grating at him to be like this, deep down, but Lucy had to work with what he gave her. She wasnât going to pull any punches.
He was merciless the first few days. Unapologetic, vicious, blunt and rude. He snapped back at everything she said, bossed her around, belittled her. If Lucy really was who she said, sheâd probably be hurt and greatly taken aback, but she knew Tim. He was in so much pain, and it was clear to her. The other rookies didnât seem to think so, and their concern was touching. But Lucy saw the way the other officers looked at her, like she was either a dead woman walking or a poor soul in for the most horrible year of her life. Angela and Talia were so worried. They told her to look out for herself, leaving the âbecause he wonâtâ unsaid. Lucy appreciated them. Even if they misplaced the roles.
When Tim got shot, Lucy was not afraid. Heâd been through worse, and this time she was there to hold his blood in. Her execution would make him proud if she were any rookie of the past. She directed Lopez to the two downed suspects, whipped her gloves on, and held Tim for the first time. He still tried to give her orders. Something angry and defensive. He looked terrible but heâd be okay. She made sure the bullet missed his important parts. Just like old times. A different doctor said the same thing: it was a miracle. Lucy wasnât in the room when the news hit, but she could feel Tim crying all the same.
The weeks it took him to heal were precarious. It was dangerous to leave him alone, but part of the gamble to assume human likeness was that she had consistent responsibilities, and they were distinct from Timâs life. She still made sure to check on him regularly, and she was there when he was discharged. He despised her by the end of it. He felt patronized, and pitied, despite Lucyâs insistence. Always a stubborn man. Her words meant a lot less in the mouth of a mortal, even if they were clearer now than anything sheâd said to him before.
Whatever else came from her efforts before he was cleared, he gained a modicum of respect for her. She could be just as persistent as him if she wanted, and heâd known that seven months ago. They were starting from scratch now. It was going to be rough.
Eventually, the Tim-tests came back. It felt like a breath of fresh air. While Tim was no less cut-throat and no more entertained than before, Lucy counted the violent slamming on brakes and demand for a location as a victory. He was getting a very important part of himself back, clawing, taking it by force. It hurt a lot, but the progress mattered so much. Lucy was happy to play along. Sure, she could read his mind, anticipate the nature of each test and answer him correctly every time, but the man needed to feel himself being productive. Even if that meant ruthlessly pummeling her for the sake of a lesson learned. She could take the heat.
Things after that became less bad, for lack of a better term. Tim leveled out well enough, to the point that Lucy trusted him to be alone with himself. There was little in life for him to enjoy at the moment, but she sensed that he at least found respite in the day spent with her, fighting crime, stopping tragedy, being human. He hated to talk to her, loathed her enjoyment in the act. He wanted to be alone. He closed himself off time and time again, even if a clever enough detective might connect the dots from all the friendly seconds she extorted from him, there was little substance she could glean unless she pushed him hardâwhich always involved a tough fallout.
There was one bad day she pushed it. The day was still young, and their calls had been mild. Tim hadnât slept well. He looked like a wreck, even if he didnât let it affect his performance. Lucy started talking. He liked her voice, she could tell, despite his claims of finding it annoying. She talked about psychology, which he hated, and she pushed him, and he hated that too. She pushed, and she pushed, and she asked him so many questions. Eventually he snapped, tired and defeated and white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel, right foot near through the floor of the shop. The vehicle lurched roughly, and Tim worked his jaw. He looked so angry, and so sad, and so tired. His eyes were very tired. âLook,â he forced out around the thickness in his throat. âI just lost someone very close to me. Iâm not in the mood to answer prying questions.â
Lucy could have swooped in with even more psychology. She could have cited a hundred various grieving tactics, ranging from self-destructive to completely healing, based both on psychological case studies and personal testament. She might have, under other circumstances. But this was Tim. She knew everything about his life, and taking on human form hadnât changed that. She knew everyone he cared about, everyone close to him, and no one matched his claim. Isabel had been gone for over a year. His grief for her was nothing fresh. Not like this. And Lucy could tell that he was truthful in his statement because she was an angel and knew her way around his sentiments, his surface level thoughts. This was real, and she couldnât think of anyone he might love enough to mourn with this much devastation.
After a long, sober moment not knowing what to say, Lucy folded her hands neatly and projected calm into the cabin. It wasnât the same coming from a human body, but she was still an angel and it worked well enough. Just enough to form a truce with Tim. âWhat was this person like?â
Tim wrestled with an answer, paging a few harsh comments through consideration before giving up. A muscle in his jaw twitched. âShe didnât talk as much as you.â He said, and his voice was soft when he did.
It took Tim a while to stop resenting her, to stop taking out his frustrations on her. It took him a while, and a few verbal reprimands from his friends at the precinct before his torture of her ended. Apparently he was harsh, but never this harsh with rookies. Even the sergeant asked Lucy if she wanted a new TO. She wouldnât hear of it. Tim was her charge, and she wanted to help him as long as she could. He was hurting a lot, but he was salvageable. He was still good. Despite the pain he was going through, he chose to not give in at the start of every day, chose to consistently do the right thing, to serve people in need. His execution was flawed but very redeemable. And it was working out slowly but surely.
Tim warmed up to Lucy in his own way. The process was painfully gradual, even for a being whoâd lived innumerable years within the constraints of time. Lucy was a creature of patience, but Tim was dragging it out. It took him weeks to stop actively hating her. She bought him hot wings to commemorate the occasion, ditched them on his doorstep the night his team was playingâwhich he didnât watch with the same enthusiasm anymore, but still appreciated.
From there, they graduated to relying on one another during calls. Lucy had his respect, she knew, and sheâd solidly proven herself a capable officer, but it was different for Tim to trust her with his life. It was nostalgic for both of them, except Tim was being bittersweet about it.Â
He started caring again, just a little bit at first, because jumping back in would exhaust him outright. It started with just covering her, making sure she didnât die. Then he acknowledged her discretion. He listened when she spoke, didnât just tune her out. He was more resigned than heâd ever been all his life, but he was coming to realize that life continued whether he was there for it or not, and peace was weaseling its way into his mind.
It was months on the job before Lucy saw him smile again. Heâd pranked her with a surprise Tim-test, tucked away in a trash can in the middle of a park. The whole situation had thrown her off guard because heâd actually been enjoying himself. Baby powder exploded in her face. Tim was there to enshrine the moment in his memory. Through the blur, he lectured her about bombs and radio waves, and both corners of his mouth were slanted up. He shone softly with satisfaction. Victory.
Their relationship developed slowly but surely. They respected each other, they trusted each other, and they eventually grew to like each other. The haunted looks of the other TOs and all of Timâs friends turned relieved, grateful. Angela pulled Lucy aside one day and thanked her sincerely. âWe were worried about him. He never told us what happened. Look, whatever youâre doing, keep doing it.â Tim never told Lucy either. She was just happy to see him back on his feet. He still carried an enormous grief with him: one heâd likely never shed as long as he lived, but he was so strong. He would be okay.
Lucy was there when Isabel got caught. Isabel had ruined herself, and it ruined Tim too. It hurt a lot to go through again, for both of them. At least Lucy could hold him now, place a steady hand on his shoulder and say a few fortifying words. It helped a lot more this time around. Isabel was caught, deep in trouble, desperate to cut a deal that almost cost what remained of her life. Tim leaned on Lucy then, unknowingly. Isabel went away for her health, divorced Tim and made it final. It was rough. At least it was closure. Tim grieved the loss of his best life as well as he knew how, and it was far from easy for anyone involved. Lucy didnât shy away. She could hold him now and she did, as far as heâd let her.
They became tentative friends, on Timâs part, because Lucy wanted to regain what theyâd had all his life, and he remained waryâunderstandably so. He was going through a lot. She knew that. She wasnât pushing. But now they could share light conversation without any sour emotion to discolor the atmosphere. They could crack jokes, share gifts, perform favors. Tim was fighting through the pain to get himself back. His fire was a thing of beauty. He made Lucy laugh sometimes, and always stopped to stare a little. She caught him once with a sad, longing half smile. âWhat is it?â She asked, still grinning. He looked away quickly. Swiped at his eyes. âNothing. You just remind me of someone I knew.â
By the time Caleb came into the picture, they were solid partners, on good terms. They went out with friends, shared trade secrets, and Tim was getting used to being comfortable with her. Being kind to her. Empathetic. Compassionate. Old traits heâd had a long time ago. He apologized for the awful first few months of her training. She just shook her head and grinned. She knew. She told him she knew, she understood, sheâd forgiven him completely. Then Rosalind Dyer kicked up a fuss, and Caleb lost luck on a victim, which meant he was desperate. It went outside of Lucyâs job description to use herself like this but she could help lots of people by getting Caleb convicted. Before she called him, invited him out for a fateful few drinks, she pulled Tim aside. He was doing well. She didnât want this event to throw him through the ringer again.
âI know you have my back.â She told him. âI trust you. Whatever happens with this case will not be your fault.â Heâd been confused, and worried to hear that, and he was near hysterical when he pulled her from the barrel with bloody hands, split skin from clawing at the dirt in raw desperation. She was an angel, not a human. Asphyxiation couldnât hurt her when she didnât need to breathe. The drugs hadnât really done a thing in her drinks except make them taste like crap, so she faked the snooze and made Caleb haul her (fake) snoring dead weight from the bar to his car trunk. The whole fiasco would be amusing if Tim hadnât gone so crazy because of it. He squeezed her with a hug, holding so tight and shaking while Lucy narced on his three broken nails. His laugh was wet and broken. Caleb lived. He stood trial. He was sentenced to die.
Tim and Lucy were so tight after that. Everyone was suspicious of her incredible rebound, but sheâd dealt with much worse in past assignments as a guardianânot that she could tell anyone that much. Tim forgot himself in his desire to help her. It was an incredible leap of progress, so close to where he started. He was so kind, and so thoughtful, and he went out of his way to make her smile because he hated that she thought to do it for him first. He didnât need restitution after she went through what she did. He was selfless. Lucy, in turn, rebuked any of his lingering guilt and shame.
There were times when he forgot the nature of their professional relationship. He treated them like partners, as though they operated on the same level of authority. And even though his nagging and stubbornness and Tim-tests never once saw slack, Lucy was totally pleased to carry on like this. Taking on the world together. Performing miracles. Doing wonders of good. It was a beautiful arrangement that took them past the dynamic between a rookie and her TO. Lucy knew he saw her differently, cared about her differently, worried about her differently. He was protective in a different way, and not because of guilt or shame. Or because he felt responsible for her. She could attest the same things too. Tim had been special since he was three years old. Sheâd do anything to protect him.
There was one call that tested her mettle. It changed them. The fire started small in the big apartment building. They were the first to respond, and the building was mostly empty in the half minute it took them to arrive. But there were people still inside. And they were charged with running in easily. They herded out the motile ones, carrying those injured by the building giving way. It was the last time they went in that the building sat down, slouching in and trapping them where they were. Just one person left. They were cornered in the hall with the kid tucked in Timâs arms. There was no way out of the fire. All exits were blocked by rubble and branding hot rebars, and the fire grew still, reaching the gas line now. Tim was afraid of dying. The kid was afraid of dying, in spite of adamant reassurances. Tim crouched in the corner, rocked the crying child and gave Lucy a horrible look. He didnât think heâd make it out alive, and maybe he wouldnât. The thought was discouraging. Heâd just gotten his crap back together. Lucy knelt beside him, determined, wrapped them both in her wings as the fire swelled. The explosion shook the buildingâs foundation soundly. They were near the ground, a lower level, so the windows burst out in the deafening roar of flame. It was a death sentence. A barbecue. But Lucy was a guardian, and her mandate was to protect. So she did. She was an angel; manipulating fire was something of second-nature. The heat ran white hot around them but Lucy didnât see, just squeezed both eyes shut like Tim and pressed her forehead close like Tim. It took a long time for the flames to die down. No one rushed in to save themâwhich Lucy could understand. They should be dead. Everyone would be assuming them dead by now.
But Tim and the kid were fine, which was nothing short of a miracle. She let them breathe the stale air.
Timâs confusion left him mute. Though that could have been the shock as well. He stared at her. Hard. Then the kid sat up and blinked at the fire, blinked at the collapsed building around them, blinked at Lucy and said âyouâre an angel.â like it was obvious. It probably was.
They emerged from the ruined, blackened skeleton to behold awestruck faces. Superficial burns only. It was a miracle they said, and Tim buckled, and Lucy caught him by the arm while he fainted at those words. They were whisked away by medical responders immediately. So much chaos. There wasnât time to spare between tests and discharge to see Tim. The next time they saw each other was back on duty, in front of everyone who wanted to see. Tim didnât seem to care about the audience. He grabbed her hands and his knees gave way again.
âItâs you.â He breathed, strangled and agonized. âAll this time, it was you. Itâs you.â Lucy hauled him to his feet, told him not to kneel for her, though by now there were undisguised tears dripping steadily from his chin. He was trying to process, trying to find the words. âI wanted to be here.â She said, squeezing his hands. She tugged him down for a hug, finally wrapped her arms around his body in the way sheâd needed to for years. âTo give you this.â He folded himself into her embrace, trembling violently, squeezing her so hard and so tight she couldnât inflate her lungs at all, like he was afraid sheâd vanish from the physical world at any given moment.
âYou left.â He whispered, at a level their onlookers wouldnât pick up. âWithout warning. I lost you.â The accusation was biteless, but it gave Lucy chills anyway. Sheâd come to Earth without warning, without saying a word to him about her plan. Six months was but a breath for ageless angels, but for Tim whoâd never lived a day without feeling her presence, to wake up one day completely alone for the first time ever, it must have been horrifying. Had he felt abandoned? Lost? So soon after Isabel left, how many frightening lonely nights had he spent waiting and waiting for her to reappear? Had he called for her? Had she broken his heart? It was such a fragile thing, and heâd built so many walls to protect it but Lucy had the keys to them all.
âYou werenât there.â He cried. âYou werenât there to fill the gaps or hear me cry or say Iâd crossed a lineâyou were just gone.â His flowing tears turned to broken sobs, right there in the middle of the precinct, but Lucy didnât care. She just held him and held him and held him back just as tight and maybe shed a few human tears of her own.
âI missed you like Iâve never missed anything.â Tim said.
Lucy tightened her grip. What else was there to do? It was exactly what sheâd come to do, and her absence was a thing of the past now. She could explain everything when there was time to speak, with real words, like sheâd never spoken to Tim before. Now they were a team. They could fix this heartbreak together. âIâll never leave you again.â
âDonât.â His chest was full of rubble. âPlease donât.â
37. Bess is Tim's sister. Ehehehehehe this one is so so specific. Okay so I had a dream that Elizabeth McCord (main character of Madam Secretary) was Tim Bradford's (one half of Chenford, from The Rookie) sister. And it just kinda stuck in my head. Namely, the following two concepts:
Tim, being the private, fame loathing guy he is, making his sister, the actual hecking Secretary of State, promise to never come to LA unless there was an Actual Emergency. Since Tim nearly dies at least once per season, this results in a lot of phone calls where Elizabeth goes "THAT'S IT I'M COMING TO LA" and Henry (her husband) and Tim have to calm her down a little
Elizabeth's dislike of Tim's girlfriend, Ashley
Anyways I had a ficlet living in my head, so here you go!
âWhat are you doing?â
âIâm keeping you company,â Lucy said as she settled into the chair next to his hospital bed, and Timâs eyebrows went up.
He hadnât exactly expected that when she blew into his hospital room, demanding why no one had told her about his surgery. Asking where Ashley wasâ which he hadnât been able to answer, not truthfully. Even with knowing that the relationship was over, it still hurt to see her walk away.
But this was Lucy. Heâd long since learned not to be surprised at how often she did the unexpectedly kind thing.
âYou donât have to do that,â he told her, giving her a smile that hopefully said, âthank you but you have had an equally long day and this is your chance to leaveâ.
She gave no signs of understanding that. Instead, she met his eyes and said, âI know.â
Of course she did. Tim couldnât help the flash of gratitude that was really more than gratitude going through him, any more than he could help the way his eyes stayed on hers for a moment longer than was strictly necessary.
But instead of dwelling on that, he listened to Lucy talk, about her day and how sheâd wrangled Smitty and the other cops into helping her, and about nothing in particular, and he let himself rest.
This lasted approximately 47 minutes.
Tim was in the middle of scoffing at Lucy, who was busy insisting that he was completely wrong about the best cop movie everâ which he wasnât. It was hardly his fault that she had bad tasteâ when they heard voices outside of their room. And one of them sounded⊠familiar. Oh, no, Tim thought. Please, tell me she didnât.
âWho isââ Lucy began, and then stopped short as someone pushed open the door to Timâs hospital room.
And by someone, he meant Elizabeth McCord, Secretary of the United States of America.
Also known as his older sister. Whom he had expressly forbidden to come to LA under any circumstances.
âWhat are you doing here?â he demanded, shooting her a scowl.
âWow,â Elizabeth said, lifting her eyebrows at him in the older sister scolding expression she was so fond of. It also worked very well, which was annoying. âThatâs the thanks I get for flying five hours to see my brother?â
âIt is when I specifically told you not to,â Tim said. âLife threatening circumstances only, remember?â
âI do,â she told him, moving in and closing the door behind her. âDo you remember that you told someone to call me right before you went into surgery?â
Frowning, Tim said, âI didnât do that.â Did I? His memory of the past few hours was fuzzy at best, and he couldnât be totally sure that he hadnât asked Ashley to call his sister. âOkay, maybe I did,â he admitted. âBut crisis averted, Iâm fine. You can leave now.â
âWhatâ Tim!â Lucy protested, giving him an âare you out of your mindâ look. âYour sister just flew five hours nonstop to see you, and youâre just gonna chase her out of here?â
Tim glared at her as Elizabeth gave her a smile. âThank you,â she said, in her warm way. âYouâre Lucy, right? Stevie told me about you after her trip, she said you were very welcoming.â
âYes, thatâs me,â Lucy said, and Tim could see her expression lighting up the way people always did around his sister. Elizabeth had inherited all the real people skills in their family, leaving Will and him blunt and uncompromising. Tim didnât really mind. It was almost fun to see the way she could charm anyone.
Of course, it was easy if that person was already one of her number one fans. âIâve got to say,â Lucy added, âIâm a huge fan of you, and your work. Youâre just an inspiration, the way youâre fighting for change and to help people, itâs amazing, and itâs an honor to meet you.â
âOhâ thank you, that is encouraging to hear,â Elizabeth told her. âItâs an honor to meet you, too. Anyone Tim has mentioned more than once is officially celebrity status to our family.â
It wasnât often Lucy looked anything like giddy, but this was definitely growing close to that. âIâ wow, thank you,â she said, grinning. âUmâ Iâm so sorry, I wasnât thinking. Let me give you two some privacy. I was just meaning to go get some coffee. Do either of you want some?â
âIâll be fine, thank you,â Elizabeth assured her. âAnd if you see a couple massive guys in suits waiting outside of the room, assure them Iâm not dead.â
âRight,â Lucy said. âWill do. Back in a bit.â
Shooting Tim a grin, she headed out of the room. As the door closed behind her, Tim said, âCongratulations, sheâs not going to talk about anything but this for the rest of the week.â
âSheâs very sweet,â Elizabeth said. âAnd from what Stevie says, she can handle you and your nonsense.â Dropping into the chair, she arched an eyebrow at him. âSo. No Lifeguard Barbie?â
âHer name is Ashley, as you well know,â Tim said, scowling at her. âAnd no, weâ I sent her home.â
He must have used up all his convincing expressions on Lucy, because Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at him. âYou realize I was in the CIA, right? And Iâm currently raising a teenage boy? I can see lying a mile away.â
There wasnât much he could say to argue with that. Letting out a short sigh, Tim said, âAshley and I⊠we broke up.â
Elizabethâs eyes widened. âI see,â she said slowly. âWhat made you decide to end things?â
âShe broke up with me,â Tim said, and Elizabethâs jaw dropped.
âWhatâ youâre kidding me! What made her think she had the right, exactly?â
âSeriously?â Tim wasnât sure if he should laugh or roll his eyes. âYou do realize sheâs perfectly within her rights to do that. Also, you never liked her, so why do you care?â
âShe dumped my brother,â Elizabeth grumbled. âItâs the principle of the thing.â She was silent for a moment, then said, âI may not have cared for her, but I am sorry, Tim. I know you liked her a lot.â
He had, it was true. But even before this, heâd known things werenât⊠right. Her opposition to marriage, the way she wanted him to retire already. And just an overall feeling, like things didnât fit right.
And really, he knew why that was.
âThanks,â he told Elizabeth, pushing the thoughts away. âBut itâs for the best, really.â
âWell, I happen to be sure that youâll find someone else. Someone much better.â
Tim started to roll his eyes and make a comment about platitudes, but there was something far too confident about her remark. Like she knew somethingâ something he definitely didnât want her to know.
Thatâs impossible, he told himself as Lucy reappeared, carrying a cup of coffee, and Elizabeth yielded the seat to her. Thereâs no way she could have figured that outâ even Iâm not sure about that.
But, watching his sister talk to Lucy, Tim had an odd feeling that he was wrong. Elizabeth almost always knew more than she let on, and this could very well have been one of those situations.
Mentally, he resolved not to ask her about it unless he absolutely had to. She would be completely insufferable if she found out she was right.
(Sorry this had taken me so long to write, half of it has been gathering dust in my drafts. So pt 2?)
( pre chenford canon somewhere in season 3)
The second Tim saw lucy that morning in roll call he could tell something was wrong.. she looked exhausted and like she was deep in thought, fiddling with her water bottle. But decided it was probably nothing.
Then he started to really get worried when she barely said a word in the shop all morning, she stared out the windshield as she drove the shop she seemed far away in her thoughts, her hands wringing the steering wheel. Finally he couldnât take it not knowing what was wrong and he took a deep breath and said â are you ok?â His face full of the worry though he was trying to mask it. Lucy glanced at him surprised â wha? Oh yeah im fineâ Tim rolled his eyes â Lucy Iâve know you long enough to know you arenât, you have barely talked all morning and thatâs very unusual for youâ she rolled her eyes and then looked at him he eyes screamed that she looked afraid of something. She squirmed in her seat and the took a deep breath.
â you know how a couple of months back my mom payed to have my eggs frozen?â He nodded showing her he remembered â Iâve been undergoing the process slowly and I had a appointment last night and my doctor said something that stuck out to me, she said that nobody is truly ready for a child it just happens and when it does is this life changing miracle of a human being and itâs worth all the pain.. and it got me thinkingâ she paused her face etched with worry for what she was about to say next.
âIm almost thirty and I want to have multiple kids but my biological clock is t ticking, I mean I always imagined having kids with the man I loved and the white picket fence but maybe thatâs not in the cards for meâ then Tim had a thought is she saying what I think she is? He thought and he felt a pang of jealousy and sadness. â so uh, what are you saying?â She looked at him sheepishly â Iâve decided im going to have kids now, im single so I will get a sperm donor and do the procedure, it is expensive though thatâs the thingâ
Timâs world seemed to come to a halt. his heart sank, Lucy was going to have a baby with a complete stranger, not even knowing who the father really was.. he imagined seeing Lucy every day when she was pregnant, her belly growing with another manâs baby, her and her cravings and hearing her in the shop trying out baby names on him..
it was almost unbearable to think about. But he knew it would make her happy and he didnât want to stand in her way. â th- thatâs great Lucy! Im happy for you and if you need anything Iâm hereâ she looked at him touched the her smile faltered, â whatâs wrongâ he asked worried. the only thing is i spent my whole life not knowing who my bio dad was, do I just⊠donât want to do that to my kid yâknow?â Tim nodded and thought a few minutes in silence and without hesitation said â what if I was the donor?â Suddenly the shop jerked and he looked at her alarmed for a second.
Lucy looked shocked in disbelief even, she pulled the shop over as Tim looked at her confused but then his expression changed and he explained himself â look I know itâs complicated with our careers and I know itâs a lot but friends do this all the time right? And youâre already on the hormones thing right?, Iâve told you before I always wanted kids my whole life, and to not be my dad and Iâm not getting any younger either, why not do it to help someone I.. care about?And if you donât want me to be involved in the babyâs life i can just be Uncle Tim or something or we could co parent if you decide to do this.â She stopped his rant when she held her hand up, her mouth agape and her eye wide.
Tim wanted to be the father of her children? Was she dreaming? She let herself imagine a little boy with his hair, Lucyâs smile, his mouth Lucyâs eyes and personality, and a little girl being a spitting image of her mother inside and out. At the same time was it logical? What would this mean for her career? â I-I uhh i mean I have to admit that is not what I thought you were going to sayâ he chuckled and glanced around in anticipation in his seat grinning sheepishly .
â I think.. I like the idea I mean I know this might not happen right away and there are some risks, but if youâre so sure passionate about this then.. Iâm in, for all of it the next eighteen years we can co parent i mean how hard can it be? â she just stared at him tears forming in her eyes â I canât believe this is happening!â She squealed.
He just grinned as she put the shop back into drive and continued their day. For the rest of shift they made plans for the future with their kid, schedules how they wanted to raise their baby, names and if they wanted a boy or a girl etc. if someone had told him two years ago that he would be donating his sperm to his ex rookie turned gofer he would have thrown them in a cell but yet here he was.
â so how exactly does this whole process work?â Lucy pulled out her phone and showed him some notes from her doctor: she had to keep going through hormonal treatment on the third day of her period, and that lasted ten days allowing more eggs to be made.
He makes his donation and is done except for moral support.
After mild sedation they retrieve her eggs from her down there area.
Itâs taken to a lab and mixed with his special ingredient creating a embryo and placing in a incubator to keep fresh.â
Then when the embryos are ready the doctor puts it in a turkey baster in puts it âup thereâ.
Then a pregnancy test is required 12-15 days later.
Simple enough right? He thought he could do this, he nodded â ok sign me up give me the number and Iâll make an appointment â she looked at him in shock still not believing this was happening.
So thatâs what they did she continued treatment and it was all a blur. And though it was a bit awkward when it was time to insert the four embryos, he was there holding her hand and being her fierce protector as always.
And 15 days later they went in for the test to determine their future for the next 18 years, Lucy wiggled in anticipation and nervousness and Tim was well Tim, supportive on the outside and a terrified on the inside, â donât worry there will be other chances I promise Luce we got thisâ she smiled at him and leaned into his shoulder as she sat on the edge of the examining table, while the nurse took some blood â Awee you guys are so cute!!â Both blushed but neither made a move to pull away. â Iâll put a rush on these you should know as soon as tomorrow.
That next day dragged by, Lucy was glued to her phone and when it finally rang the the way out of the station at the end of shift, they sat down and answered the call.
