Summary: After an attack leaves you bleeding out, Tim races to your side, terrified of losing you. In a desperate moment, you confess your fear of forgetting him after death. Tim swears nothing, not even death, will ever take you from him.
Warnings: Graphic descriptions of injury (stabbing, blood loss), panic, anxiety, fear of death ,near-death experience, heavy emotional distress, Protective!Tim in full force
Angst
Words: -
Fear lived in you now.
It wasn’t always this way. You used to be able to kiss Tim goodbye before a shift without feeling like you were sending him off to war. You used to be able to close your eyes at night without fearing you might never wake up. But lately, it had taken root inside you, growing deeper with every passing day.
It started as a whisper—soft, insidious thoughts creeping into your mind at odd hours. What if something happens to him today? What if you don’t wake up tomorrow? What if you forget him?
You told yourself it was just anxiety. That you were being paranoid.
Then, the panic attacks started.
Some nights, you’d wake up gasping for breath, your heart slamming against your ribs as if trying to claw its way out. Other nights, you didn’t sleep at all, too afraid that if you closed your eyes, you’d never open them again.
Tim noticed. Of course, he did.
He had always been good at reading you, knowing when something was wrong even before you did. At first, he didn’t push, just watched you carefully, his sharp blue eyes tracking your every move. But when he caught you trembling after waking from another nightmare, your arms wrapped around yourself like you were trying to hold your body together, he couldn’t stay silent.
"You’re not okay," he had said one night, his voice low, careful, as if afraid to spook you.
You had tried to lie.
"I’m fine."
"Don’t do that." He had stepped closer, fingers grazing your jaw, tilting your face up so you couldn’t look away. "Talk to me, sweetheart."
You had broken then, the dam inside you shattering all at once.
"I’m scared," you had admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "All the time, Tim. I can’t—I can’t shut it off."
His arms had been around you in an instant, his body solid and warm against yours. "What are you afraid of?"
You swallowed, gripping the front of his shirt like he was the only thing keeping you grounded. "Losing you."
Tim had tensed at that, his grip on you tightening. "That’s not going to happen."
"You don’t know that." Your voice cracked, a tear slipping down your cheek. "You leave for work every day, and I—I feel like I can’t breathe until you come home."
His jaw clenched, but he didn’t pull away. He just held you, his lips brushing against your hair.
"I always come home," he murmured. "I will always come home to you."
"But what if you don’t?" Your fingers curled into his shirt, your breath shaky. "What if one day, something happens, and I lose you? What if I lose me? I don’t—I don’t want to die, Tim."
His hands cupped your face, his thumbs brushing away the tears slipping down your cheeks.
"You’re not going anywhere," he said fiercely. "Neither of us are."
You had wanted to believe him.
But now, as you lay on the pavement, blood pooling beneath you, you realized—you should have believed him while you had the chance.
It had been a normal evening.
You had left the apartment to pick up dinner—Tim’s favorite, because you knew he had a long shift and would come home exhausted. The air was crisp, the streets familiar, and you had felt safe.
Until you weren’t.
You didn’t hear the man coming.
One second, you were unlocking your car. The next, an arm wrenched you backward, slamming you against a brick wall.
A blade pressed into your side.
"Give me your bag," a low voice hissed in your ear.
Your breath hitched. Your heart pounded so hard it hurt. You nodded quickly, hands shaking as you slipped the bag from your shoulder, pressing it into his grip.
But he didn’t let go.
"This ain't enough," he snapped, his fingers digging into your arm. "You got a phone? Jewelry?"
You reached into your pocket, but he must have thought you were going for something else. Before you could speak, pain exploded through your side.
The knife slid in, hot and deep. You gasped, the world lurching as agony tore through you. For a second, you didn’t even understand what had happened. Then, warmth bloomed beneath your fingers.
You looked down.
Blood. So much blood.
The man cursed, shoving you backward before disappearing into the night.
You staggered, your body trembling violently as you pressed your hands against the wound, trying to stop the bleeding.
Someone screamed. Someone called 911. But not you.
You should have called your boyfriend.
Tim had seen people die before.
He had seen officers go down, had pressed his hands against bullet wounds, had watched blood stain the pavement, had heard final breaths rasp from broken bodies.
But nothing—nothing—had ever prepared him for the moment he heard your name come through dispatch.
"Victim is y/n y/l/n. Possible GSW. Medics en route."
It was like the world snapped.
The air was sucked from his lungs, his heart stopped beating, and for a split second, everything froze.
Then—he ran. He didn’t think. He didn’t breathe.
He was in the car before anyone could stop him, the sirens screaming as he tore through the streets, his hands clenching the wheel so tightly his knuckles went white. His mind was a chaos of images, panic clawing at his throat—
You on the ground.
You gasping for breath.
You—motionless.
His foot slammed on the gas. The drive was a blur. The city rushed past him in streaks of color, his own breath coming in short, ragged bursts. His heart was pounding against his ribs, so fast it hurt, so hard he thought it might break right out of his chest.
Please. Please. Please.
The second he saw you, his entire world collapsed. You were on the pavement, blood was everywhere. A dark crimson stain spread across your side, soaking into your clothes, pooling beneath you like an open wound in the earth itself.
Tim’s knees hit the ground before he even knew he had moved. His hands—steady on the field, in firefights, in life-or-death situations—shook as they pressed down over yours, trying to stem the bleeding.
"Y/n!" His voice cracked, his breath ragged. "Baby, I’m here."
You gasped, barely conscious, your eyes fluttering open just enough to meet his.
"Tim…"
The way you said his name—weak, broken, like you weren’t sure you’d ever get to say it again—ripped him apart.
"Hey, hey, baby, stay with me." His fingers curled over yours, pressing against the wound, desperate to stop the blood, to fix this, to save you. "You’re okay. Just hold on, sweetheart. Just—just stay with me."
You blinked up at him, your lips trembling.
"I didn’t call you," you whispered.
Tim’s jaw locked, his breath shuddering.
"Why the hell not?" His voice was sharp, raw, barely controlled beneath the sheer terror gripping him.
You swallowed, your fingers twitching against his. "Didn’t want you to… hear me like this."
A choked noise caught in his throat.
"Jesus, y/n" His hands tightened on you, pressing against the wound, his body instinctively shielding yours like he could keep you safe just by being there. "You always call me. Do you hear me? Always. I don’t give a damn what I’m doing—I will always come for you."
A soft sound left your lips—half a breath, half a whimper.
"Scared," you murmured.
Tim exhaled sharply, his chest aching at the fragility of your voice.
"I know, baby," he whispered. His fingers brushed against your face, streaking your cheek with your own blood. "I know."
You inhaled shakily, a weak tremor racking through your body.
"I don’t… I don’t want to die."
Tim clenched his teeth so hard his jaw ached. A burning sensation settled in his chest, threatening to consume him.
"You’re not going to die," he growled, his voice shaking. "Do you hear me? You’re not leaving me. Not now. Not ever."
You blinked sluggishly, your pupils unfocused.
"But if I do…"
Tim’s stomach dropped. His heart stopped dead.
"Don’t," he begged, voice hoarse. "Don’t say it."
Your hand—so cold, so weak—curled around his wrist.
"But if I do…" you whispered. "I won’t remember you."
Tim’s entire body locked. A shuddering breath left him, raw and wrecked.
Tears blurred your vision as you forced yourself to continue, despite the sharp ache in your chest. “They say—at weddings, they say ‘till death do us part’ because when you die, you forget. You forget the people you love. And I don’t want to forget you.”
Tim broke. The breath he sucked in was sharp, painful, like glass cutting down his throat.
"You’re not going to die," he choked out, his grip tightening on you like he could physically hold you here, keep you tethered to him.
Your lips trembled.
"But if I do… Will you find me?"
A tear slipped from Tim’s lashes, burning against his skin. His forehead pressed against yours, his breath warm and unsteady.
"Always." His voice shook, barely above a whisper. "I will always find you, baby. No matter what. I swear to you."
Your lashes fluttered.
"’Til death do us part," you murmured.
Tim flinched. No. No, he hated that phrase.
He hated the finality of it. The implication that death was the end. That you could be taken from him and there would be nothing after.
His hands cupped your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones, smearing blood over your skin.
"Not even death," he whispered fiercely. "Not even death could take you from me."
You shivered beneath his touch, the cold creeping into your bones. Tim felt it and it terrified him.
"Stay with me, sweetheart," he pleaded, his voice breaking. "Please."
Your lips parted then your body went limp. His heart stopped.
"No—no, no, no—y/n!" His voice was a roar, pure desperation as he shook you, as he pressed his hands against the wound, as if he could force life back into you. "Stay with me!"
The paramedics were suddenly there, voices shouting, hands pulling him back, but Tim fought them.
"No!" He thrashed against their grip, his voice ragged, his hands bloody as they tried to push him away from you. "I’m not leaving her!"
"Y/n, stay with me, baby, please—"
They wrenched him back, and suddenly—he couldn’t touch you anymore. He couldn’t feel you.
"Her pulse is weak—get the stretcher, now!"
"She’s lost too much blood—"
Tim’s breath came in ragged, painful bursts, his hands shaking so violently he couldn’t control them.
He watched—helpless—as they lifted you, as the sirens screamed, as your head lolled to the side, your skin too pale, your breath too shallow.
Panic clawed at his throat.
He shoved past the medics, gripping your limp hand.
"You’re not leaving me," he whispered, his voice shattering.
They loaded you into the ambulance, and Tim didn’t let go.
He climbed in after you, his fingers clutching yours, his forehead pressing against your knuckles.
"I will always find you," he whispered, a silent prayer.
Summary: While Tim is out on patrol, a call comes through which makes him lose his usually calm composure. The call involves his family.
Enjoy.
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Tim's eyes trained down on the watch he was trying to strap to his left wrist while the soft creak of the floorboards beneath his feet echoed around the hall. Announcing his presence and the direction he was heading in.
He could always tell whereabouts anyone was in his home by the different creaks and the thuds in the way they walked.
He clicked the clasp into place on his wrist, trying not to catch any skin like he had done a few days ago leaving a dark blue bruise near his pulse point. Watches had to be tight, he couldn't have them slipping down his wrist when he was on the job and getting in the way or causing a slight distraction.
Once his watch was properly strapped to his wrist, Tim's gaze set on the floor instead as he aimed for the bedroom.
His hand moved to scratch the back of his neck and run along the freshly shaved hair along the back of his scalp.
He didn't bother looking up until he walked into the bedroom but when he did, he felt his heart rocketing up into his throat. For a second, Tim couldn't move. He didn't know what to do except dig his nails into his scalp while his other hand froze at his side and his eyes went wide in their sockets.
"Get down. Now."
Terror clutched at (Y/n)'s heart for a split second and her nails dug into the wood at the top of the wardrobe which she was holding onto until she was sure she could feel splinters digging beneath her nails.
Her eyes shot down to the left and sure enough, she locked eyes with Tim. Her husband didn't look impressed. She almost winced when she watched him click his finger and point downwards as if to make his point known that he didn't like what she was doing and wanted her feet firmly back on the ground.
She currently had one foot balanced on the small wooden ledge framing the middle of the wardrobe in front of her, and her other foot was firmly placed on the windowsil. But it was the only way that (Y/n) could reach on top of the wardrobe that was only two feet from hitting the bedroom ceiling.
Since they had a lot of stuff and not enough space, some items got chucked on top of the wardrobe for safe keeping and to make the place tidier. The same as there were old tuppeware boxes and instruction booklets flung on top of the kitchen cupboards downstairs.
(Y/n) didn't realise Tim was out the shower already or she would have tried to hurry up.
"I just need the box." She knew trying to reason what she was doing wasn't going to help very much, but her fingers were skimming across the particular box she had been searching for.
Tim's lips pressed together as his features tensed like he was a mould of clay starting to dry out in the sun.
He clicked his jaw from side to side as his feet became unstuck and he moved forward until he was stood directly beside (Y/n) doing her best acrobat imitation.
"I said, get down." He put a bit more emphasis on his words that were already softening just a little simply by looking up at his wife.
His hands reached out until they were clamped down safely on (Y/n)'s hips and his firm chest pressed up into her side. Ready on the off chance that she lost her footing and slipped. A pregnant woman balancing dangerously like this wasn't a good idea and Tim didn't want to explain what she had been doing if he had to take her to the emergency room.
(Y/n)'s lips clamped together as she looked down beneath her arm to see Tim's stern expression looking up at her. Although he couldn't hide the glimmer sparkling in his eyes and she could see he was starting to thaw out the longer he stared at her. He could never be angry or annoyed with her for long, love always thawed through him faster than the speed of light.
"I'm fine." Her voice didn't come out as strong as she intended and a croak left her lips when Tim squeezed her hips and suddenly gave her a light shake to show her how unsteady she was by standing like that.
It was enough to shift (Y/n)'s centre of balance and have her slamming one hand down to grip his shoulder for stability, despite the frown that pulled at her hips. Her weight leant into Tim's chest which he didn't seem to mind at all and he kept a firm grip on her hips so she didn't fall.
"Don't do that." She hissed quietly with a scowl written across her features while her husband just stared up at her like he had won some kind of battle.
"You don't look very steady to me. Are you aiming for a hospital visit?"
Tim stared up at her with those steely blue eyes, overshadowed by a firmly raised brow. His thin lips were set into a straight line that showed off the cutting edge of his jaw and those pointed cheekbones that became more prominent when he was glaring up at her like that. Just that look was enough to make (Y/n)'s knees buckle and she did her best to hold herself together and stay upright.
She chose to ignore his question and instead glanced around the room before she looked down at Tim through her lashes. "Since you're here, you could help me down."
It sounded like an off-hand remark, just a little idea but it was enough to melt the glare on Tim's face and have him sighing.
Leaning his head forward, he pressed a chaste kiss to her bump before he adjusted his arms around her. One hand reached up to press firmly against the small of (Y/n)'s back while his right arm looped around the back of her thighs and he gave a little tug to tell her he had hold of her.
(Y/n) tightened her hand around his shoulder and loosened her other grip on the wardrobe, looping both arms around Tim's neck after a brief moment of wondering whether he was able to hold her up or not.
She coiled her right leg towards her, slipping her foot off the windowsil and when Tim took three steps back, her other foot slid from the wardrobe. This would have been less than graceful if (Y/n) had gotten herself down without Tim around.
"The stool didn't reach," She murmured quietly and glanced to the left towards the small foot stool in the corner of the room. When she tried standing on that, her hands barely reached the top of the wardrobe, let alone the boxes hidden at the back.
"Hm, not a good enough reason to give me a heart attack. You need something like that, you tell me." His eyes darted between (Y/n) and the wardrobe until she leaned forward and buried her face in his chest.
Tim might only be less than a foot taller than (Y/n), but he could easily stand on something or push up on the wardrobe to find whatever she needed. He was an officer, he was used to giving chase and climbing fences and squeezing through tight gaps. Tim could scale a wardrobe no problem and he would rather do that and gain a slight injury than watch (Y/n) try and ultimately gain an injury to herself or the baby.
"Yes officer."
Her arms tightened around his neck and she tilted her head back so her chin was tucked into the middle of his chest. The way she batted her lashes at him made Tim's chest tighten and she knew she had won him over when his stern look faded into a soft smile.
"You feeling okay?" He let his hand slide down between them to cradle her stomach and his head tilted to the side.
(Y/n) looked down and let her fingers glide down his exposed arm until she cupped his wrist.
"We're good, and someone's lively today." Her thumb smoothed across the back of his hand which she moved to the lower side of her stomach so he could feel a small kick.
The smile that broke out on his lips was one that made (Y/n)'s heart flutter almost as much as the way he reached his hand out to cup her chin. His thumb smoothed across her lower lip that he pinched just to see her take a sharp breath before he closed the distance between them and kissed her.
"Not long now." They both knew that Tim was starting to become restless. He didn't like waiting, and he was ready to meet their baby. He wanted them in his arms, he wanted to take them to the station and show off his baby to the rest of the training officers and new rookies.
He had barely used any of his annual leave this year, so he had a lot stored up. As soon as they knew (Y/n)'s due date, Tim had booked off time around that date so he could be home and with (Y/n) when she went into labour and so no one else could be off at that time and get there first. And he still had a lot of days left in case he couldn't part from his family so soon or if (Y/n) or the baby were ill and needed him.
"You still have to wait six weeks, at least." (Y/n) mused with a grin as she looked between Tim and her bump.
They were only thirty-one weeks along, they had to wait six weeks in the very least for (Y/n) to be classed as full term and to be anywhere near when her body would presumably go into labour. Tim still had a long wait ahead of him, but it was heart warming to see him so excited and eager for this new chapter in their lives.
He bent his head forward, ghosting his lips over hers as his hand left her chin to wander down her frame. He enticed a gasp from her lips when he sank his teeth into her bottom lip so he could swipe his tongue past her lips. (Y/n) could feel his hands roaming up and down her back, simultaneously tugging her closer, as if she wasn't already close enough with her chest pressed up into him.
He grinned and panted against her lips as his nose brushed against hers until she shook her head when it started to tickle. "I know, I can wait."
Somehow, (Y/n) wasn't so sure she believed that. She knew by the time her due date rolled around that Tim would be bouncing off the walls with anticipation.
"I'm due on shift soon. You call me if you need anything."
"I promise." Her lips attached to the side of his neck and she curled her arms around his shoulders to pull him down to her. Her face buried into his shoulder and she could feel his chest vibrating with a chuckle.
(Y/n) always agreed she would call or message if she needed anything or if she didn't feel well. She never did. It never felt right to bother Tim when he had such a demanding job, and (Y/n) never knew if he would be able to answer. If he was out in the middle of a call or a trying to catch a suspect or making an arrest then he wouldn't be able to pick up the phone. It was different if he was driving around on patrol, but his job was always dangerous.
She would never want to be a burden on Tim or make him look bad at work if he always had to pause to answer his phone. Calling him even once while he was at work felt like (Y/n) was committing a crime of her own.
(Y/n) would only call him if it was an emergency, but she always told him she would call. It calmed him down and she didn't want him worrying over her.
"You'll be careful, won't you?" (Y/n) couldn't count the times she had said that to Tim either just in passing or being deadly serious. Practically every shift she asked him to be careful, like a little ritual to keep him safe. But now more than ever she wanted him to be safe and careful. His line of work was dangerous and (Y/n) didn't want to be raising this baby alone.
"I'm always careful, baby." He kept one arm around her waist while he moved his other hand to cup her jaw. His thumb brushed across her chin as he tilted her head up so he could peck her lips once again.
And he leaned his cheek on top of her head when (Y/n) pressed her face into his chest. His hand glided up and down her skin while he looked around the room as if checking for any abnormalities or anything he needed to fix so he wouldn't find (Y/n) balancing on windowsils or stood on stools trying to sort something out while he was at work.
Standing here with her in his arms made Tim desperate to stay home, and that wasn't something that used to happen.
His job used to be everything to him, even when he was married to Isabelle, he loved getting up in the morning and going to work and doing what he loved. And he still did, but now with (Y/n), there was a bigger part of Tim that felt a desperate yearning to stay home with her. And that feeling only tripled when (Y/n) got pregnant.
When he glanced down at his watch, he clicked his tongue and a sigh tumbled past his lips.
"I gotta go, baby."
"Can you get the box down for me first… or I can try again if you don't have time-"
"Don't you dare, you'll keep your feet on the ground."
(Y/n) pressed her lips together tightly to try and stop a laugh from escaping. Her eyes closed for a moment when Tim pecked her temple and she could feel her nerves igniting when his hands lingered on her hips so he could gently nudge her backwards. As if he thought she might try and beat him to it.
He turned so his back was facing her and she could just tell that he was analysing the wardrobe to try and gage how best to do this. His hands flexed at his sides and (Y/n) watched as he easily hooked them on top of the wardrobe and used it as leverage to pull himself up.
Tim looked like he was at the gym doing a workout. Once his feet left the floor, he set them on the ledge of the wardrobe with such ease it should have been impossible and he pushed up so he could look at what was up there.
"Alright baby, what one are you after?" There were a few small boxes up here, the odd ornament and memorable teddy and a few picture frames collecting inches of dust.
"The red one, for the nursery." (Y/n) stepped to the left and angled her head back to try and look but she couldn't see the box she had almost gotten hold of before Tim interrupted her.
It had a few old keepsakes from (Y/n)'s childhood and she wanted to put them in the nursery, to pass down to the baby. Plus, it had some photos in and (Y/n) was constantly putting new frames up around the house and switching photos around. She knew Tim secretly loved coming home and spotting which ones she had rearranged.
A quiet "Got it," huffed past Tim's lips as he secured the box on his left shoulder, keeping a tight grip while he hung onto the wardrobe with his right hand.
One foot reached behind him to hang in the air and he suddenly let go, jumping down to his feet with grace and a smile plastered across his face. He set the box down on the bed, grinning as he felt (Y/n)'s hands on his bicep and her lips attaching to his cheek.
"Thank you."
"Please don't go climbing the walls in the nursery either; you need anything you call me."
(Y/n) nodded. She knew the drill. She knew Tim would try his best to answer the phone no matter what he was doing, of course some situations meant he couldn't. But the majority of the time if (Y/n) ever texted him he would answer within the hour. He had some leniency and no boot he trained would question it if he answered his phone on the job.
No one at the station was going to judge either, if Tim got a moment to spare, he checked his phone. His wife was seven months pregnant, he needed his phone on him for emergencies.
"I love you."
Her lips curved up into a smile and she reached up to cup Tim's face in her hands, grinning as she tugged him down for another kiss.
His hands squeezed her hips and he smiled into the kiss, nipping at her lower lip before he eventually pulled back. His fingertips glided across the underside of her stomach and his thumb stroked across her skin like he was waiting to feel a kick before he left.
(Y/n)'s hands moved down to hold onto Tim's shoulders when he leaned down and pecked her stomach, muttering a soft "Love you too," against her bump.
***
Reaching out, Tim dragged his hand along the bottom of his jaw and propped his elbow up on the door window. His other hand stayed clenched around the steering wheel, fingers going numb from how long they had been locked in place while they had been driving around.
Today was a slow patrol day, they'd only had two scenes to attend to and the first one didn't even require an arrest or a trip back down to the station. Tim didn't like slow days, he liked being busy, chasing suspects and sorting out drama and incidents. He wasn't built for languid drives with no destination in sight and nothing to occupy his mind.
And the longer he drove around, the more talkative his new boot became. Lucy didn't seem to like silence, she liked to talk and ask questions and try to probe at Tim. He wasn't one for making friends with the new trainees, he was here to teach her not become her friend.
"Are you okay?"
"What?" A frown appeared on Tim's face as he glanced to the right and looked down at Lucy.
Where had that question suddenly come from? Had he done something to make her think he was annoyed with her or that he wasn't well? Sometimes Tim wondered what went through her mind with the random questions she would blurt out seemingly from nowhere.
"I- I heard Grey say that you were heading to the hospital yesterday, I just wondered if you were alright… if you needed to talk." Lucy couldn't help overhearing. She had been waiting patiently for Tim to walk with her to the garage to get in the shop when Grey had passed them by.
She heard the Sergent tell Tim that he was fine to leave shift early and head down to the hospital. The thought of Tim being unwell and not telling her was nerve wracking because Lucy knew if it was the other way around, Tim would expect her to tell him if she wasn't feeling great or if something might get in the way of their work. And if he needed to talk, she would lend an ear.
"Listening to my conversations now, boot?"
"Wh- no, no I-"
"Do I look ill to you?" His tone wasn't as sharp as usual and he wasn't glaring down at her or sneering like he was angry she had asked. And when Lucy shook her head quickly, Tim's features loosened slightly and he nodded. "I just had a check up, nothing to go telling anyone."
Lucy nodded again and turned to look out the window. She didn't want to broach the subject that check ups were usually with a doctor, not at the hospital. And she wouldn't go around telling people even if Tim was worried about his health or had any test results of his own. She wasn't like that.
Tim didn't see the need to tell Lucy that it wasn't an appointment for himself that he went to yesterday. It was for (Y/n).
The maternity unit in the hospital was open late for appointments and checks and (Y/n) had tried to get all of her appointments in the evening and arrange them on Tim's day off. He didn't want to miss anything, he wanted to be there for every appointment. Something that the Sergent understood because he had been fine with Tim leaving shift early yesterday so he could meet (Y/n) at the hospital.
Another bout of silence flooded the car as Tim clicked the indicator and turned onto the next street.
It was a relief when the radio buzzed to life and dispatch came through the speakers.
"Be advised, there's been a collision the intersection on 159th street, police presence required. Registrations involved are…" The voice over the radio reeled off two car registration plates and possible make and models just as Tim's blood started to drain down to his feet and an incredible wave of heat swarmed over his body.
Out the corner of his eye Tim could see Lucy looking at the screen console in between them, clearly noting that they weren't close enough to divert and respond. There were two other patrol cars that would be closer and therefore faster at responding.
Without thinking twice, Tim grabbed the radio that had previously been held in Lucy's grip from the last conversation they'd had with dispatch.
The plastic creaked beneath his grip that almost broke the button on the side of the radio as he shakily brought it to his lips.
"Seven-Adam-nineteen responding." His voice was rough and his tone was curt, on the verge of abrasive before he tossed the radio back towards Lucy with an air of carelessness.
He reached down for the controls between them and turned on both the lights and the siren before his foot slammed down against the pedal and their car accelerated fast enough to cause both of them to surge back in their seats.
Tim could feel his skin bristling like he was being lathered in drying clay that was hardening him to stone. Even his hands around the steering wheel felt unmoveable and tense. The way his jaw clenched set his teeth chattering and grating together and had a horrible ringing sensation shooting through his ears.
He did a harsh U-turn before swerving to the left and taking a short-cut down a side street. If they were going to respond first then they had to get there fast and prove that they were capable and not just taking the call for the fun of it.
He could feel Lucy's eyes burning into him and she frowned as she looked between Tim and the map on the console.
"But that- that's not our area, other patrols will be closer."
"We're taking that call." His voice was as rough as stone and left no room for error or debate.
What was he doing? Why was he taking this call? Lucy sank down in her seat and reached her hand out to grip the door handle, holding herself steady when Tim took another sharp corner.
"Why?"
He wouldn't look at her. His hands were flexing and rubbing against the steering wheel so much that Lucy feared he was going to give himself blisters by the time they arrived. She watched how his jaw started to grind from left to right and a determined, rather frightening look took over his pupils.
He was starting to turn red in the face like he was about to blow a fuse and the artery in his neck was throbbing and pushing to the surface.
A shudder ran through Lucy when Tim took another sharp corner and her arm slammed into the door. He didn't change gear, he barely slowed down as he rumbled the car onto the next road and overtook the cars that didn't slow down quick enough for his liking.
"It's a crash, not a pursuit chase-"
"That was my wife's number plate." The words spat with fury past Tim's lips but he didn't divert his gaze from the road. He couldn't look away, he had to get there. Now.
Dispatch had read out his wife's number plate and the make and model of her car. She had been caught up in an accident. Tim wasn't leaving this call for anyone else to deal with, he was going to go down there and see for himself what had happened and if his wife was alright.
If this were any other circumstance, Tim would have smirked and made a note of the record time he got to the scene. But this was no time to gloat and try to beat records; not when (Y/n) was involved in a crash.
The moment he stumbled out the car, Tim was sure he was suffering palpitations. It felt like his heart was hammering against his chest and it was starting to cause his ribs to ache. And the feeling made his skin vibrate and had him arching forwards as if to somehow stop each dramatic beat of his heart.
"Boot go check that driver." Tim waved his hand towards the jeep that was in the middle of the intersection.
His focus had to be on his wife.
(Y/n)'s car was a wreck; Tim's lips parted into a look of horror as he ran towards the car he barely recognised. The car he had only glimpsed this morning in the drive. The bonnet was crushed, with steam coming from the engine and metal scraped and jagged along the driver's side.
Both cars had collided head-on, and Tim would bet any money that this hadn't been his wife's doing.
"(Y/n)? (Y/n)!"
He found his hands shaking when he reached the driver's side and it made it harder to try and open the door. One hand grabbed the handle and the other planted down on the window as he doubled over and tried to peer through the glass while he used all his strength to shake the door open.
It swung open at last, and Tim was relieved he didn't have to go back to the shop and find a wrench to try and wrangle with the door. He didn't want to be wasting any time.
As soon as it was open, Tim crouched down and leant into the car with his knees pressing against the base of the driver's seat. His hands were reaching out for (Y/n) before he could think better of it or actually tell whether she was conscious or not.
"Baby, hey baby it's me."
His hands cupped either side of her face, fingertips pressing into the top of her neck while his thumbs stroked along her cheeks, applying pressure to try and get her to focus on him.
A broken sound caught in the back of his throat and he hung his head down when (Y/n)'s bleary eyes tried to blink into focus and she let out a muffled sob.
Tim could feel tears welling up behind his eyes but he forced them back, he bit his tongue and scrunched his nose and held his breath until the tidal wave behind his eyes started to recede. He couldn't break down and let the emotions overtake him. Not now, not when (Y/n) needed him and he had to stay in charge of the situation and be in control.
They all knew in bad situations like this that they had to keep cool heads and stay in focus.
(Y/n) could feel her head spinning in circles until Tim's touch was gliding along her cheeks and down the side of her neck like he was painting a canvas. His touch was soothing and helped her focus and she reached a shaking hand out to grasp onto Tim's wrist the moment she felt his touch starting to disappear.
He kept his right hand cupping (Y/n)'s neck while his left hand reached around his belt to find his radio.
"This is officer Bradford, I need an ambulance to my scene. Victim is thirty-one weeks pregnant involved in a crash."
The static confirmation response he heard back was enough to console him that an ambulance wouldn't be long. But if it was anything over five minutes then Tim would be back on the radio demanding they hurry up. He didn't want to admit over the radio that it was his wife involved in the accident, not yet. Not when he knew all his colleagues would be listening.
"Tim…"
"Let me look at you baby, where are you hurt?"
The softness in Tim's voice almost made (Y/n) smile as she dropped her head back against the head rest. She felt like she was vibrating as trembles rolled through her system and nausea was rising from her stomach but she tried her best to hold it down.
Tim's hands trailed across (Y/n)'s chest and down her arms and he took a second to lean over her and unclip her belt that had been digging rather harshly into her skin. He thrust the belt out the way and stayed hovering over (Y/n) while he tried to look for injuries.
She had a cut to her cheek, but she didn't seem to have any visible wounds or blood soaking through her clothes which was a big relief.
He watched (Y/n) shakily reach her hand down towards her right knee that had bashed into the bonnet and the gear console to her side.
"My knee, and I- I slammed into the door."
Tim's eyes were focusing on her knee that thankfully wasn't pinned beneath the car bonnet, but his focus shifted when he felt (Y/n)'s shaky fingertips brushing against his neck to gain his attention. His big round eyes stared up at her, brows arching until he watched (Y/n)'s gaze flutter down towards her stomach.
The baby.
When the jeep collided with her car it pinballed (Y/n) around in the car, bashing her from left to right, slamming into the door and the steering wheel and the gear box. She hit everything even as she tried to brace herself and slam back in her seat and with the seatbelt constricting around her chest, she still whacked into everything.
She wasn't sure whether she had broken any bones or gotten any cuts and bruises and it didn't matter to her either. All she cared about was whether the baby was okay or not.
Tim's blushing lips parted but no sound came from them, all he could do was stare at her stomach like he wished he had X-ray vision. Tim wasn't a doctor and first aid only taught them so much at the academy. He had no knowledge of how to check if the baby was okay or if (Y/n) had any internal injuries.
"Paramedics are coming, they'll check you both over and take you to hospital."
Despite his words, Tim couldn't stop himself from arching forward and reaching his uncertain hands out towards her stomach. His fingertips were oddly soft in that manner that only happened when Tim was around (Y/n).
He ruffled the hem of her shirt up until her smooth skin was exposed to his eyes and he could trace his hands along her bump. She didn't have any cuts or wounds, no marks or tenderness when he tried to feel and check for any abnormalities, even if Tim didn't know exactly what he should be checking for.
(Y/n) nodded and her shaking hand moved to cup the back of Tim's neck when he leant forward and pressed his chapped lips against her stomach. Her fingers traced along his skin and the shaved hair at the back of his head before she tried to look around for the jeep that crashed into her.
"Tim, the driver he- he was drinking." (Y/n) pushed back in her seat when Tim's head shot up out of her grasp, his lips disconnecting with her stomach as his worried expression changed to rage.
The driver of the jeep had gone through a red light, (Y/n) saw him speeding further down the road aiming in her direction. She saw him chuck a beer bottle out his window moments before he sped through the red light and swerved into her path, hitting her car directly.
Fear spiked in (Y/n)'s heart when Tim pushed up from his crouched position and stormed off with a halo of darkness shrouding him.
His nails pierced into his palms, fingers tense and taut as his hands clenched into fists until his knuckles turned white and the veins were popping up on his skin. Each step he took seemed to shake the road and the heel of his shoes clacked in his wake as he aimed for the patrol car.
Unfiltered rage was all Tim could feel as he wrenched open the boot and retrieved a few items.
Every part of him was shaking and his brows were knitted together so tautly that he could barely keep his eyes open. All he wanted to do was pummel his fists into that driver. He never understood people who could willingly get behind the wheel while intoxicated, but for one of them to do this and hurt his family, this was as personal as the job had ever become for Tim.
It looked as if Lucy could sense his looming presence because she spun on her heels, her back pressing up against the jeep door. She had been trying to check on the driver but he was barely conscious. His head had bounced off the window harsh enough to splinter the glass and his wrist had caught through one of the gaps in the steering wheel and was clearly broken.
"Is your-"
"Get his blood and bag it." Tim thrust the pre-connected needle and vile at Lucy and the evidence bag he had wrapped around them.
As soon as they were out of his hands, Tim pressed his left hand to the roof of the jeep and leaned in towards the driver. He was slightly annoyed to find the man was unconscious, but Tim didn't need him to be awake when the jeep had been soaked in alcohol. And Tim knew if he leaned in closer, he would smell it on the driver's breath too.
(Y/n) was right. She had seen him drinking, she had seen him swerving between the lanes and running the red light before he hit her. He was driving while intoxicated, and Tim wouldn't let him get away with this.
Confusion pooled in Lucy's eyes as she looked between the evidence bag and Tim, unsure why she should be doing this when she heard Tim call for an ambulance over the radio. Paramedics were experts at this, they could take his blood when they arrived so that she and Tim could take the sample to be processed.
"Shouldn't we wait for the paramedics, or they could take his bloods at the hospital, save us a journey-"
"Take it. I'm not letting his blood alcohol level drop down while they waste time assessing him. He caused an accident and he could have killed someone, he doesn't get away with that." The muscles in Tim's jaw flexed and clenched as he stared down at Lucy. "He could have killed my wife."
He didn't want to make this personal, he really didn't. But the situation was already as close to Tim as it could be. This man could have taken someone's life by drinking under the influence and if that wasn't bad enough, he had crashed into Tim's wife. She could have died and she was pregnant, any minor accident could put their baby in jeopardy.
Whether it had been (Y/n) who got hurt or not, Tim would want this man's blood taken right away.
"You're involved, personally. Maybe you should…" Lucy couldn't seem to find the right words she wanted to say, and she couldn't keep up eye contact when Tim was glaring down at her like that.
"You're right." His words took her by surprise, her eyes going wide as she glanced up to see whether she had heard him right or not. "Which is why I asked you to take the blood sample before he sobers up, not after, boot. Get it done."
Tim was glad his rough tone was enough persuasion to get Lucy to nod and go along with his order.
There was a reason he told her to do it. He knew if he tried he would be desperate to stab that needle into the driver rather than gently pressure it into a vein. He would want the man to be conscious and feel pain, and it wouldn't be procedure if Tim did the procedure when his wife was involved in the accident. He didn't want any conflict of interest attaching here when this case needed to be solid against this drunk.
As he took a few steps back to be a safe distance away, Tim's hands moved down to scrunch around his belt so he had something to focus on. His head turned from left to right as he scanned his surroundings. He couldn't hear the sound of any sirens. There were no flashing lights; the ambulance hadn't arrived yet.
His tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth as he shook his head. Dispatch would feel his anger if they didn't get an ambulance to his location soon.
"Oh no- Tim…"
The fear woven into (Y/n)'s groaning voice was like a knife piercing into Tim's heart. He faltered, stumbling on his back foot as he turned, his head whipping back in the direction of (Y/n)'s car.
His boots slapped the ground as he pelted back towards (Y/n), suddenly petrified of why she was calling out for him like that with such panic and pain woven into her voice.
"I'm here baby." The words seemed to run away without him, coming out breathless as he crouched back by the car. He let (Y/n) snatch his right hand in her tight grasp until he was sure the blood had been cut off from his fingers, but he didn't care as long as holding onto him made her feel better.
Up close, he could see the panic in her eyes that matched what he had heard in her voice, and he didn't like it. Not one bit.
His left hand reached out to cradle her face and he tried to brush away the tears that were beginning to fall down her face, but he didn't say anything. He waited- perhaps slightly impatiently- for (Y/n) to tell him what was worrying her.
"I- it- it broke…"
Confusion broke out on Tim's face as his sharp eyes narrowed and his lips formed an oval shape as he stared up at (Y/n). He didn't know what that meant.
Until (Y/n) looked down. Tim felt apprehensive as his eyes automatically followed hers and trailed down to see what she was staring at with that petrified look on her face. His breath caught in his lungs when he looked at (Y/n)'s legs. A mixture of blood and fluids were soaked into her leggings and puddling on the seat.
(Y/n)'s lower lip quivered until she managed to pull it between her teeth and bite down until blood welled on her tongue. Her waters had broken. She had never been in this position before, but (Y/n) was deadly certain that it was her waters. That strange feeling in her stomach, that sensation like something had been popped, it had to be her waters. And she was certain that there shouldn't be blood.
Her pale cream leggings were tainted crimson that was bright and burned like the first embers of a raging fire. The baby was wriggling and moving, presumably in distress.
This was nine weeks earlier than her due date, six weeks too early to be considered full term.
And when (Y/n) managed to rip her gaze from her thighs to look at her husband, she whimpered. Tim's eyes were dusty pink with lines of red around them like he was having some kind of allergic reaction. His skin was fading to pale grey and he was shaking his head, but it was the tears in his eyes that made (Y/n)'s stomach twinge and burst with adrenaline.
"Fuck! Fuck!" Before he could stop himself, Tim rammed his free hand into the side of the car, wincing at the echo that vibrated through the car. But the blistering pain in his knuckles was a welcomed distraction.
As soon as Tim straightened up, he felt (Y/n) tugging on his hand as a small cry broke past her lips. "No."
"I'm not- baby I'm not going anywhere, I swear." He bent forward, leaning into the car long enough to press a searing kiss to her wet lips. He wasn't about to walk away from her, he wasn't moving one foot from her side. "I'm right here," his words were muttered in between kisses before he finally straightened up.
His right hand stayed interlocked with (Y/n)'s and his chest pressed uncomfortably against the roof of the car. He reached around for his belt and unclipped his radio, clenching it with trembling fingers and one split knuckle.
"This is Bradford, again, get me that damn ambulance now, victim's waters have just broken. I won't be asking again."
If the ambulance wasn't here within the next two minutes Tim would be swearing down the radio and taking (Y/n) to the emergency room in the patrol car.
His foot began to tap against the floor and he started to bash the base of his radio against the top of the car like he was trying to do morse code to signal for help. But the energy rattling through him subsided somewhat when he felt (Y/n)'s face meshing up against his abdomen and her hand let go of his so she could bind her arm around his torso.
A sigh parted his lips and he wove his fingers into her hair, cupping the back of her head to keep them both bound together.
"You're both gonna be fine, you hear me? Absolutely fine, we're gonna look after you and get you to the hospital."
So this is my first time writing for Tim so here goes nothing. By the way, I have a Dick Grayson fic with the same title here.
Masterpost
*~*~*
Instinctively, you reached out your hand, half awake but looking for a warm body that’s supposed to be in bed with you. Nothing but cold sheets greeted you and you blinked awake blearily. You looked at the other half of the bed and you realised two things, one, you fell asleep waiting for Tim to come to bed, as evident by the contact lenses still in your eyes, and two, Tim still hadn’t come to bed yet.
You sighed, staring at the still perfectly made bed on his side and the fluffed-up pillow. You understood what you were getting yourself into but sometimes, when you woke up in the middle of the night alone, you wonder if you truly knew what you were getting yourself into.
With another unhappy sigh, you leave the covers that were both warm and cold at the same time. After removing your contact lenses and replacing them with your spectacles, you head off to find Tim. As expected, there was light spilling out from Tim’s office.
You don’t enter his office, instead heading to the kitchen. You sipped a glass of water while waiting for the water to boil, pouring just the right amount of coffee grounds and milk and sugar into the cup. For the finishing touch, you plopped two ice cubes into the cup. Tim practically survived on coffee but even so, he had a habit of gulping down your coffee like a man who had finally found water after being lost in a desert for two days. The one and only time you forgot Tim’s ice cubes, he had scaled his tongue so badly he talked funny for two days.
With a quiet chuckle and a lighter heart, you headed to Tim’s office with your glass of water and Tim’s coffee held in your hands. Tim was so engrossed in his work that he didn’t look up when you enter his office nor when you walk towards him. His head only shot up once you set down the cup of coffee near his hand, a testimony on how tired he was that his vigilante instincts weren’t working.
You take a moment to look at him, taking in his messy raven hair that looked like he ran his fingers through too many times, his eyes that were bloodshot and dulled from the lack of sleep and the dark circles and eyebags heavy enough that Superman would have trouble lifting them up.
“You should be in bed,” Tim croaked out, interrupting your thoughts.
“So should you,” you retorted, pressing a chaste kiss to his temple as you rounded his table so that you were beside him.
“There’s a lot to do,” Tim answered with a sigh, looking like he aged ten years just at the mention of his workload.
“I know, I know, but the bed is cold without you,” you replied.
“Sorry, dearest,” Tim apologised remorsefully. You hummed as you crawled onto his lap, Tim automatically spreading his legs to accommodate you while his hands found themselves around your waist to steady you. You were too tired to fight with him, and no matter how many times Tim apologises, you know that he would do it again.
The both of you shuffled around until you were satisfied, with you between his legs and your back resting against his muscular chest while his arms caged you and his chin rested atop your head. He overtook your senses until all you could feel was him, the hardness of his chest moving as he breathed, the scent of him, something so distinct that you could pick from a sea of people, the sight of his hands in front of you, calloused and safe, that would never allow you to fall into danger, the beat of his heart against your ear, steady as ever, reassuring that he was still alive and the taste of coffee on his lips as he pressed a gentle kiss against your lips.
“Sleep,” Tim whispered, sharing his breath with you even as his voice was pitched low to soothe you to sleep, “I will wake you when I’m done.”
You nodded while yawning, too tired to even form words as you snuggled against his warmth. The last thing you heard and felt before you drifted off was a “Thank you for the coffee, love,” and a kiss on the crown of your head.
Hiiii if it’s fine I’d like to ask for a YJ Robin x reader who’s a witch/sorcerer and is new to the team and robins really into her and they hit it off pretty quickly and end up going out :P
( if your okay with it can you add one of his ex’s being jealous )
hi! yeah I like the idea and would love to write this one out! Just curious if you had a preference for which Robin you would want to see? Either Dick or Tim is fine, but I wanted to make sure I did the right one for you :)
Now if both of them are getting laid, tim screwing the guard somewhere else, the restroom? Closet? Some place quiet and not usually used.-🕷
Guard this time you say??
It had taken a lot of convincing on his part. He wasn’t the suave one of the duo.
He couldn’t say he was mad at the time it took, though.
Not when he had your legs wrapped around him as he fucked you against a wall.
Not when your mouth was on his neck, biting to keep yourself quiet.
And definately not when he felt your blunt nails dragging patterns on his back.
His hand wrapped around your throat as you gaped at him, eyes rolling back at the feeling of being so full.
“I’m going to fill you up,” he snarled, grinning maliciously down at you, sweat plastering his inky black hair to his forehead. “Fuck you-Fuck you so full you’re leaking.”
“Please, Tim,” you gasped, wrapping your hands around his thick wrist. “Please.”
When the elevator doors opened and you spotted Tim hunched over the batcomputer, furiously typing away on the keyboard, you already knew that the night you had planned for the two of you was ruined before it even began. He was so focused on the contents on the screen monitor that when you called his name, he only grunted in response before correcting himself with a brief hello.
After climbing the steps and coming to stand beside him, he never once took his eyes off the screen to turn to you and at least give you that crooked, yet sweet smile he always did when he would see you. You chose to take a step behind him and keep your sentences brief and simple to make sure that you didn’t distract him too much from the task at his hands.
“I can see that you’re working hard…” You paused for a moment to take note of the numerous empty coffee cups that lay a clutter on the desk and on the floor beside him, “So hard that you’ve really given all your energy and time to whatever it is you’re working on.”
“Yup, crime never stops, so why should I?” Tim stated as he took one hand off the keyboard to pick up the cold cup of coffee to the left of him and sip it before setting it down and typing faster than he was before he drank it.
“I guess, but you can always afford a break, you got four other people to take over the job for you in the meantime.” You stated, casting a glance up at the cases on the platform across from you to look at the well-tailored suits that Tim and the rest of his family wore while crime-fighting.
“They can’t work like me, it’s fine, but they don’t have the patience to learn if I were to teach them...especially Jason…” Tim’s words were coming out either super fast or in chunks as he leaned in closer to the computer screen and slowed his typing, his attention was directed more at the screen than you; you liked that he worked hard at whatever he put his mind to, but you hated when his mind chose work over personal time with you.
“Got you!”
You jumped a little at his sudden outburst of pride and excitement, but your wide eyes were soon replaced with soft ones and a small smile as he finally pushed himself away from the desk and stood up to stretch. He plugged in his communicator into the computer and let it sync up with all the intel he had gathered. Now that he was free from the computer, he turned his head to let his electric blue eyes land on you and he was taken back by what he saw.
You stood by the railing, with a slow grin that stretched ear to ear. He noticed that your silky (H/C) locks were done in cascading curls and you were wearing a figure-fitting floral dress with a jean jacket that engulfed most of your upper body. Your weather-beaten sneakers squeaked on the cool metal flooring as you spun around on the tip of your sneakers, waiting patiently for him to say something to you instead of staring at you with his mouth slightly agape and his body nearly frozen in place.
“Wow, you look nice.” That was all Tim said as he let his hand rise to gesture to you before falling back at his side. You chuckled softly at his reaction; he was always like this, even when you would put on your pajamas after a long night out patrolling, he would think you were the most beautiful sight he ever set sight on.
“Thanks for finally noticing,” You laughed out loud as he began to make his way over to his uniform, “I almost thought that you forgot who I was for a moment, you know, with how involved you were with whatever it was that was on the computer.”
Tim scoffed as he turned around and placed a hand over his heart in disbelief with a playful smirk on his lips. “How could I ever forget you?” The way he said it and the look he gave you made you turn away to hide the blush that was forming on your already rosy cheeks.
You came to climb the stairs next to him, shoving his shoulder playfully every time he would shove you back. When you finally made it to the top of the stairs and stood in front of his uniform, you both took a moment of silence to admire the well-tailored suit.
“What happened to all the cuts and soot stains from the last time you went out?” You questions as you remember that the suit was almost damaged beyond repair the last time he came back; Bruce really ripped into him on that last one before he pulled him aside in the shadows of the cave to give him a bone-crushing huge and telling him that he was just grateful he made it back alive.
“Bruce had Lucius make me a back up and this is it while he repairs the other one,” Tim explained while he opened up the case and started to get undressed right in front of you. You struggled to get your sentence out about changing in front of you, but you just decided to enjoy the view while you both continued on with your conversation.
“Oh, okay. Well, may I ask why you’re getting suited up right now?” You questioned him, making him stop for a moment to gesture to the computer before continuing to pull up his pants. “I mean I saw you tracking some criminal activity, but couldn’t you just forward that one of the boys out there right now? I’m sure Jason would definitely take care of it.”
“I’ve been tracking those goons for the last couple of days to find out where they’re doing their dirty work and now that I finally found it, I’m gonna shut them down.” Tim answered with slight excitement as he finished pulling his shirt over his head, “I’ll be damned if I let one of them, especially Jason take credit for my work.”
You just laughed as you held his Bow Staff for him. “Alright, I guess that’s fair… but I was hoping that you weren’t gonna head out tonight because I had plans for us to finally catch that movie you’ve been dying to see for the last couple of days.” You confessed, ruining your secret to surprise him for once in his life.
Tim turned around to give you a sincere smile and came to give you a hug, following up with a kiss on the crown of your head. “That’s… very nice of you to think of me, but like I’ve said the other times, it’ll have to be pushed back. Crime calls and I definitely cannot answer.” He looked into your doe eyes, seeing the slight disappointment that he wasn’t going to cave for just one night.
“Oh Tim, you stubborn boy…” you shook your head as you looked at the batcomputer then back at him, “I know you won’t cave, even just for one night, so just go on ahead and head out.”
“(Y/N), I’m sorry, I truly am. I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” Tim grabbed your hands and gave them a gentle squeeze while he tried to get you to look at him; he didn’t like to leave you when you were upset, “The night’s still young and maybe if I get this done quick and make it back with enough time, we can go see the movie, if you’re up to it?”
You gave him the side eye, thinking about his offer, before saying, “Yeah, sure deal. All you gotta do is just make back here in one piece. That’s all I ask.” You pressed your pointed finger into his chest, making him laugh, “I mean it. I want you to call up one of them while out there and let them assist you. I don’t want you coming back to me all bruised and bloodied...or worse.”
Tim sighed while rubbing the back of his neck, “Alright, fine. You just stay here for the time being.”
“I’ll stay on the comms for you and the rest of them if any trouble arises. If you need any help, you can always call me.” You reminded him as you followed him down to the batcomputer and to the vehicles. He was going to his designated one when you had remembered that he left his communicator on the desk hooked up to the computer. While he was still inspecting his car, you retrieved it for him and met him by the front of his car.
“Alright, well I got to get out of here before something sudden changes in their routine.” Tim was climbing into the driver’s seat of his car when you called out to him, making him freeze and look at you with confusion evident in his eyes.
“You forgetting something?”
Tim’s eyes got wide as he got out of the car and raced over to you and wrapped his arms around your waist before planting his lips firmly on yours, taking you completely off guard. With your eyes still wide open, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer to you while his hands traveled up your back, one coming to cup the side of your face as you melted into his arms. His lips tasted like french vanilla and it made you want to go in for more, but he pulled away so suddenly, leaving your desires stranded.
“That takes care of that.”
You giggled as you bent over to control yourself. He stood there confused at your actions while all you did was hold up his communicator in the air. “I was talking about this, but the kiss was also needed too.”
Tim’s face tinted slightly red before he snatched his device and made his way back to his car. He waved to you as he drove out of the cave, leaving you standing there in your spot, lightly brushing your fingers over your coffee smelling lips with a smile plastered to them.
Summary: You are Tim's wife, six months pregnant, and refusing to rest. When you're assigned to recruit police officers for a new Metro team, your husband makes sure no one messes with his wife.
Fluff
A/N: Well, it's been a while but I guess I'm back in business. The most requested imagine of all! I hope you all enjoy it and excuse my disappearance. I can't guarantee you'll get more work from me as often as I used you to, but I can promise you I'll write and post all my ideas! Thank you for your support! Lots of love, bubs! Take care of yourselves! 🫶🏻
Warnings: None, pure fluff, (maybe mention of small injuries i guess?), not proofread yet
Requested: Yes!
Words: -
If there was one thing Tim Bradford never expected to happen in his lifetime, it was being completely and utterly wrapped around someone’s finger.
And yet, here he was.
It had started the second you told him you were pregnant. He’d been so sure he’d keep his cool—be the composed, level-headed Sergeant he was known to be. But the moment those words left your mouth, his entire world tilted on its axis. For the first time in years, something scared him. Not a suspect pulling a gun, not a high-risk Metro raid—this. You. The life growing inside of you.
Of course, you didn’t make it easy on him.
You had spent the first two trimesters of your pregnancy insisting that you were fine, rolling your eyes every time he tried to gently suggest that you should slow down.
"Tim," you sighed one evening, standing in your kitchen while he insisted on cooking for you. "You’re hovering."
"I am not hovering," he said flatly, though he absolutely was.
You arched a brow, leaning against the counter. "I’m pregnant, not dying."
Tim grunted, flipping the chicken in the pan. "Still not taking any chances."
You smirked, stepping closer, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. "You love worrying about me, don’t you?"
He sighed, tilting his head down to press a kiss to your temple. "Yeah, well. You make it impossible not to."
What he didn’t expect was that pregnancy would turn him into the world’s most overprotective husband.
It started subtly—making sure you ate on time, setting reminders on his phone for all your doctor’s appointments, researching vitamins when you weren’t looking. Then it got worse.
Like the time he woke up at 2 AM to find you scrolling through work emails.
"Are you kidding me?" He groaned, rolling over to take the tablet from your hands. "You’re supposed to be sleeping."
"I am sleeping."
"You’re awake," he deadpanned.
You just smirked, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. "Then make me tired, Sergeant."
But by the second trimester? Oh, he was doomed.
Because you were still you—stubborn, reckless, and infuriatingly unwilling to slow down.
He should’ve seen it coming. You had spent your entire career proving yourself in Metro’s elite tactical unit, earning every bit of respect that came your way. You weren’t just some officer—they called you a tactical genius, someone who could think three steps ahead in high-pressure situations.
So of course, when the brass suggested you take maternity leave, you laughed in their faces.
"You should take it," Tim had said carefully, fully expecting a figh
You scoffed, arms crossed over your chest. "And do what? Sit at home and wait?"
"It’s called resting, sweetheart."
You’d rolled your eyes so hard he was surprised they didn’t get stuck. "Not happening."
And, of course, you won.
Instead of getting benched entirely, you were offered a leadership role—forming a new Metro team. It was a compromise. Less fieldwork, more strategy. And while Tim reluctantly agreed it was the best option, it didn’t stop him from hovering over you like a damn bodyguard every chance he got.
Now, here you were—six months pregnant and stationed at Mid-Wilshire, observing officers, evaluating skills, and deciding who was good enough for your team.
And here Tim was, barely keeping it together.
The Mid-Wilshire training room was filled with tension as the candidates for your Metro team sat in front of you. Lucy Chen, Angela Lopez, John Nolan, Nyla Harper, and a few other officers watched you with rapt attention as you paced the front of the room, flipping open the folder in your hands.
"Metro isn’t just about skill," you said, voice steady and firm. "It’s about adaptability, precision, and teamwork. Today, I want to see how you handle high-pressure situations."
You gestured toward the training mats. "We’re going to run a combat demonstration—basic takedowns, disarm techniques, and reaction time drills."
Tim immediately frowned.
He knew what you were doing. You wanted to prove yourself. Wanted to show these officers that pregnancy hadn’t slowed you down, that you were still as sharp and dangerous as ever. And while he respected the hell out of that, it didn’t stop the knot of worry from tightening in his chest.
"Are you sure—" Tim started, stepping forward.
"Yes," you cut him off before he could finish, shooting him a look that said don’t start.
He exhaled sharply but didn’t argue.
The officers lined up as you demonstrated a quick disarm technique, moving through the motions with practiced ease. But Tim saw it immediately. The slight hesitation in your step, the way your movements weren’t as fluid as usual.
Your balance was off.
Officer Matthews—new to Mid-Wilshire, cocky as hell—stepped up for the exercise. He moved fast, testing the maneuver harder than necessary. You reacted on instinct, blocking his attack, but—
You stumbled.
Not a lot. Barely anything. But Tim saw it.
Before anyone else could react, he was already there, hand gripping your arm, the other steadying your waist. His entire body was rigid, tension rolling off him in waves.
"Are you okay?" His voice was low, controlled—but barely.
You huffed, annoyed. "I’m fine, Tim. I just lost my footing—"
"You shouldn’t even be—"
"Don’t." You cut him off sharply, leveling him with a glare. "I know my limits."
Tim’s stomach burned.
And then Matthews laughed.
Your husband's head snapped toward him so fast it was a miracle the kid didn’t flinch.
"You think this is funny?" Tim’s voice dropped, low and dangerous.
Matthews shrugged, unfazed. "I just think it’s a little ironic that Metro sent a pregnant woman to recruit us."
The temperature in the room plummeted.
Lucy and Angela both stiffened, already knowing what was coming. Nolan looked like he wanted to disappear, and Nyla just smirked, waiting for the fallout.
Tim took a slow step forward. "You want to run that by me again?"
Matthews chuckled, oblivious. "I just mean, maybe Metro should—"
"That’s my wife." Tim’s voice cut through the air like a blade.
Matthews’ smirk vanished.
Tim stepped closer, looming over the rookie, his entire body coiled with restrained fury. "That’s my wife," he repeated, voice sharp as steel, "and if you ever question her ability again, you won’t just lose your chance at Metro—you’ll lose your badge altogether."
The entire room seemed to collectively hold its breath.
Tim turned back to you, eyes scanning over you, checking—always checking. His hand found its way to your waist again, grounding himself in the solid reality of you standing there, unharmed.
"You okay?" he murmured, softer now.
You sighed, pressing a hand to his chest. "Tim, I’m fine."
He didn’t look convinced, but he nodded. "We’re talking about this later."
"Looking forward to it," you deadpanned.
The tension in the room slowly lifted as Matthews slinked away, and Lucy finally broke the silence with a grin. "Well, that was fun."
Nyla chuckled. "I was wondering when people would finally figure it out."
Nolan exhaled, shaking his head. "I knew something was up."
You rolled your eyes, stepping back and addressing the room. "Alright. Now that everyone is caught up—back to training."
And just like that, the spell broke.
But as you walked back toward the mats, Tim caught your hand, squeezing gently. You looked up, meeting his gaze—warm, steady, and unapologetically devoted.
Because if there was one thing everyone knew now, it was that messing with you meant dealing with him.
I know it's been months and months since I posted this first Tim Bradford imagine, but I suddenly started watching The Rookie again and felt inspired to finish this part I had plotted out.
I hope you will all like it, please let me know what you think to it.
Summary: (Y/n) is a rookie, so her new relationship with Tim isn't strictly professional. They try to keep things secret, but they run into problems when (Y/n) isn't well on shift and feels she can't trust her training officer.
Enjoy.
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"You tryin' to tell me you've never gone hard on a rookie before, Bradford?"
Something close to a laugh cackled at the back of Tim's throat and he shook his head in disbelief. "We're training officers, we don't set them up to fail. Your boot is going to the hospital, you think there won't be a report on this?"
Glee dwelled in Tim's stomach when he saw a flash of something cross Josh's eyes. Worry perhaps, maybe a glimmer of anger directed at Tim, but he didn't care. He wasn't going to forgive Josh for this and Tim certainly wasn't letting this one go.
He took a step back before he felt the urge to start throwing his fists. He couldn't start a fight here at the station when there were enough colleagues around to point the finger and risk his job. As if he wasn't risking everything already by falling head over heels for (Y/n).
"You're done. I'll put a report on the Captain's desk tomorrow myself."
The conversation was still whirling around in the back of Tim's mind like a video tape that was playing on repeat. Over and over again.
Chatting away in the back of his mind, letting him remember each word he'd said, each snide tone Josh had used to reply back to him. That look of fear within the other TOs eyes when he realised that Tim wasn't going to let this go.
And he wasn't.
It didn't matter that (Y/n) was secretly his partner behind closed doors. It didn't matter that she wasn't his rookie, his trainee. Nor did it matter that Tim knew people would be wondering why their very own hard-faced TO had gone in the ambulance with a rookie that he wasn't even training himself.
What matter was that (Y/n) was ill, and Josh had made her feel so incompetant and worried that she hadn't allowed herself a break or a rest or a chance to get seen to by a doctor. And now she had collapsed. Now she was hurt, and she needed to be looked after.
And Josh needed to be reprimanded. Tim already had lines mulling over in the back of his head about what he would say, what he would write down in a direct report to Grey to explain this situation and how wrong the other TO had been. He knew Grey would do something, he would make sure Josh got done for this, whether he got docked his pay or sent on a training programme or put on a brief suspension.
Something needed to be done, and Tim wouldn't rest until it was.
"Tim…"
Electric volts ran through Tim's heart and his head snapped down to look at (Y/n), whereas moments ago he had been staring off into the void with his gaze unfocused on the far wall of the ambulance.
She had barely been conscious when they got her on the gurney and loaded her into the ambulance, but she was saying his name.
A quiet muttering, so broken and hushed that for a moment Tim thought he had simply imagined it, until she spoke again. She knew he was here. (Y/n) knew that Tim had come along with her, that he had joined her and wasn't going to leave her side even though he wasn't her TO and he hadn't technically cleared this with Grey beforehand.
When she uttered his name again, Tim leant forward on the edge of the rather cramped seat within the back of the ambulance and reached out for her hand. He interlaced their fingers, dismayed to find that the limb was cold despite the rest of her skin beind flushed and burning with a fever.
"I'm here, Rookie. I'm here."
Leaning forwards, Tim pressed his lips to the back of (Y/n)'s fingers and gave a tight squeeze to her hand so she knew he was there, and he wasn't about to disappear on her.
A brief moment of affection was okay, there was only one paramedic sitting in the back here with them, and he wasn't to know that a rookie and a training officer was technically breaking some unofficial rules.
Tim's expression was pained and his features scrunched up when both (Y/n)'s arms coiled inwards towards her chest and the look on her drowsy face showed she was in turmoil. He was relieved she was a bit more conscious now than she had previously been in the locker room back at the station, but that meant she was more alert and more suceptible to feeling pain.
And she did look like she was in pain. Her whole body tremoring and shaking on the gurney, her knees trying to coil up towards her stomach despite how hard that was to do on the gurney. Her hand that was interlaced with Tim's was starting to squeeze, and she was pressing his hand deeply against the centre of her chest against her button up shirt that was soaked with perspiration.
He wasn't sure whether she was pressing on his hand to try and alert him of some kind of new pains she was having, or whether this was just (Y/n)'s way of feeling comfort and affection and knowing that Tim was close by.
By the time the ambulance pulled up at the hospital and the gurney headed through the bay doors, Tim could barely feel his fingers in his left hand. Not that he cared, (Y/n)'s vice grip on his hand seemed to be helping her stay calm, and that was all that mattered to him.
His right hand curled around the edge of the gurney and he followed swiftly alongside, lips pressed into a thin line and his jaw clenched tight as they headed into one of the vacant rooms in the ER.
(Y/n)'s eyes began to open, though they didn't manage to come into focus or really take in any of her surroundings, when she was transferred from the gurney onto the bed.
And the moment Tim's hand left her grip, (Y/n) choked through a moan that sounded like she was trying to scream.
"No- no-"
"I'm still here. (Y/n), I'm right here and I won't leave you."
Reaching over, Tim gently rested his hand on (Y/n)'s ankle and gave a light squeeze. He couldn't get as close as he had been before, not with two nurses and a doctor now in the room who needed to do their checks and look after (Y/n). Tim couldn't get in the way, but he certainly wasn't leaving the room. He was staying right here until he knew that (Y/n) was okay.
"Promise?" Her voice was croaky and barely came out properly, but Tim heard her just fine, and the faintest smile hinted at his lips.
"I promise."
Tim's arms crossed over his chest as he stood against the far wall, one hand reaching up to press into the bottom of his chin as he observed the situation carefully.
He couldn't help but wince when one of the nurse's had to physically pin (Y/n)'s arm to the bed to get an IV cannula taped into her hand. She wasn't cooperating with them. Tim knew she didn't like hospitals at the best of times, but with her being disorientated and unwell, it only made the situation worse.
She seemed to let them check her blood pressure and get her hooked up to a monitor. Though she turned her head and groaned when they tried to check her pupils and gage her reflexes and responses.
Tim chomped his teeth down so sharply on his lower lip that he winced and tasted blood on his tongue. He could see that despite the shaking wracking through (Y/n)'s body, she was trying to push them away. He didn't know whether she didn't understand that she was about to get help, or whether she simply didn't want to be here in the hospital. Either way, she was working herself up and making it harder on herself, as well as the staff.
One of the nurses turned to look over her shoulder in Tim's direction, an exasperated look on her face as she sighed and arched one brow.
"Are you her partner or just her colleague?"
The question stunned Tim and he wasn't sure how to respond for a few seconds, bloodied lips parting as he pulled in a deep breath and tried to shake the shock from his features.
"Uh- partner. I'm her partner."
"Then do you think you might be able to calm her down? We need to take a blood sample to run some tests, but she's getting herself worked up."
He nodded his head, both pleased and stunned at the same time. And he was glad that he'd managed to get changed from his uniform and into his casual clothes or else he would have been stood here in his starched shirt and trousers with his holster clipped around his waist. Something he wouldn't be able to take off in this setting in case someone tried to take it from him.
He was also glad that (Y/n) had managed to take her holster off in the locker room, even if she hadn't changed out of her uniform yet. It meant Tim didn't have to take possession over it as a gun, taser and pepper spray couldn't be kept here without supervision.
He pushed forward and stepped up to the side of the bed, feeling his heart trying to hammer its way out of his ribs when he looked down at (Y/n).
His thighs pressed into the bed frame as one hand carded through (Y/n)'s hair and the other reached down to curl around her arm. He darted his tongue out over his lips and leant over until his lips were hovering near (Y/n)'s ear.
"(Y/n), baby, the sooner we get you better, the sooner we can leave." Tim could see that his words had caught (Y/n)'s attention because those hazy eyes finally locked on him. "You put up with Hanks all day, I think you can bear a needle for a quick blood test, right?"
She let out a sound that was somewhere between a hum and a yes, which caused Tim to grin and press a quick kiss to her cheek along with a quiet, barely audible "That's my girl."
He remained beside the bed, his left hand threaded through (Y/n)'s so he could stretch her arm out and hold it at her side on the bed. Allowing the nurse to lean around him, attach an elastic strap just above the crease of (Y/n)'s elbow, and begin taking some blood samples.
"She might have a bad infection. Probably not meningitis, but we'd have to test for everything, just to rule them all out."
Tim nodded, releasing his grip on (Y/n)'s hand and arm now that the bloods had been taken and she wasn't squirming around so much on the bed now. Hopefully she could settle, maybe even fall asleep and then wake up feeling better and refreshed.
"Could you answer a few questions, so we can rule a few things out?"
"Sure," though he nodded, Tim dragged his hand across his jaw and turned back in (Y/n)'s direction. "I'm still here, I won't be far away."
With a peck to her temple, he followed the nurse who now had a chart in her hands. A few questions and answers would allow them to know what tests to run and what kind of infection or illness was currently plaguing (Y/n).
Tim wasn't sure how much help he could be, but as they stood just outside the room- so he was still within sight if (Y/n) wondered or fretted where he was- he realised he could answer almost every question she asked. He could roughly pinpoint when her symptoms started, that she had suffered headaches and had been sick today- by what Chen had said- and that work clearly hadn't made things any easier for her.
He also knew a lot of her medical history and filled in the blanks in her chart. That was how much (Y/n) meant to him; and to think that Josh Hanks had gone and put her at risk and made this situation a whole lot worse. Tim had to push that thought to the back of his mind before it sent his blood boiling and he got sidetracked.
He wasn't sure how long they had been stood there talking and going through both basic and in-depth questions, but both their heads snapped back towards the doors and their voices cut off when a round of raised voices got their attention.
"No- no you must sit back down-"
"You'll hurt yourself doing that."
"I'm… I'm- no-"
With furrowed brows and his arms dropped from in front of his chest, Tim bounded back through the doors and into the room just in time to have the air knocked out of him at the sight of (Y/n), now up off the bed.
She could barely remain on her feet, her body swaying back and forth and one hip slouched against the side of the bed to prop herself up.
That glazed look in her eyes was one Tim hadn't seen very often; she barely looked coherent or aware of her situation.
But she was aware enough to know that there was something taped to the back of her right hand, something that was irritating and restraining. (Y/n) barely looked down before she yanked on the cannula in her hand and the plastic was suddenly pulled free from her vein.
A deep bump arose in the middle of the vein that looked like a balloon had started to swell beneath the skin and a trail of blood slithered down the back of her hand and in between the grooves of her fingers. The sight made Tim's lips curl into a grimace.
"Hey- hey back into bed. Now." With a deep voice and the click of his fingers, Tim pointed to the bed as he advanced towards (Y/n).
(Y/n) looked like she was about to try and shake her head, but the action caused her head to loll backwards and she stumbled towards the bed, right where she didn't want to be.
"I h- I- work, I can't slack."
The words didn't seem to want to come out in the right order and her eyes had to close to stop the pulsing headache throbbing behind her eyes.
Her head bowed forward and suddenly met with a hard chest when Tim appeared in front of her, seemingly out of nowhere. She could feel the tense muscles beneath his shirt, the controlled breathing that showed he was trying to remain calm when really, he was close to exploding.
She felt his hand reach out to cup the back of her head, and the touch was so soothing that she almost caved in then and there. But when his other arm curved around her waist and he tried to push her back towards the bed, (Y/n) groaned and pushed forward.
It was like they were in a dance, always one step forwards and one step back, neither getting in the direction they wanted to be.
Her hands reached up to try and hold onto Tim's biceps with the intention of pushing him back, but she ended up clinging onto him instead to keep herself stable so she didn't waver back and forth so much.
"You're not going anywhere like this, work can wait until we get you better."
It didn't seem worth mentioning to (Y/n) that she wasn't even on shift anymore. She, like Tim, had been about to call it a day when she collapsed. Their shifts had come to an end when she had been in the locker room about to get changed. Either (Y/n) overlooked this fact and thought she should be back at the station for an extra shift, or she was becoming delirious and forgot that her shift had already finished.
When Tim glanced down, he tutted. Her right hand was dripping blood onto his arm where she had ripped out her IV. She had shredded part of that vein now which would bruise and hurt for a week or more. Not to mention that was a risk of her getting infections at work now until it was fully healed.
But he couldn't stop himself from leaning down and attaching his lips to her temple.
"You're still burning up, Rookie, you need to rest."
A groan tumbled past (Y/n)'s lips and another round of shaking burst through her until Tim was shaking along with her.
Her heart palpitated when she suddenly felt Tim's hand leave her arm and grip her chin, angling her head back until they were looking up at one another. She tried hard to keep her eyes focused on him, though she kept trying to look at his lips instead. Tim didn't seem to like that though, because his thumb pressed into her chin and he huffed until she locked eyes with him again.
"Baby, listen to me. You need to rest and get better. I'll stay with you if you let the nurses look after you, deal?"
It didn't sound like a deal (Y/n) really wanted to make, but she could tell that she didn't have much of a choice. And she couldn't stay here alone, she simply couldn't do that. If Tim would stay with her then she supposed she had to back down and let them look after her.
With her head still in his grasp she tried to nod and show her resistance had faded, but her head was still spinning so badly she was surprised her brain stem hadn't snapped.
A horrid wave of nausea rolled over her and suddenly her fingers were scratching down Tim's biceps, using him as a leaning post as she pulled her chin out of his hold and lurched to the right. Her chest bashed down against Tim's forearm as a heap of water spewed past her lips and onto the floor.
If Tim's arm hadn't of been around her middle holding her up, (Y/n) would have been flat out on the floor.
"Back to work my ass." Tim muttered under his breath with an air of sadness woven into his tone.
With a sigh, he slid his hands down (Y/n)'s waist and hips until his hands moulded into her thighs and he hoisted her into his embrace.
"Up we go, baby."
His expression softened when (Y/n)'s head dropped onto his shoulder and she went limp, loosening her grip on his arms as she let him lift her up and carry her back to the bed.
All the fight seemed to have drained out of her the moment Tim eased her back onto the bed and her head slumped back against the pillow with a groan. Again, Tim found himself holding her arm out and keeping it still so the nurse could assess the damaged vein and tape it up.
He kept hold of (Y/n)'s arm, allowing the nurse to find a suitable vein in the crease of her elbow instead since her hand was no longer useable with that shredded vein and (Y/n) needed the IV back in to get fluids into her system.
He wasn't sure if she blacked out or simply closed her eyes, but it didn't really matter because Tim knew it wouldn't be long before she fell asleep. That was probably for the best, she could rest better and effeciently without a fight if she were sleeping most of the nausea and pain off.
His eyes closed for a few seconds as he leant over and pecked her temple, smoothing his fingers through her hair to brush it from her eyes.
It had been the wrong move.
When Tim opened his eyes and glanced towards the door, his skin paled to a dull shade of grey and his mouth curved down at the corners until he was frowning a horrid, hollow look at who was standing on the other side of the doors.
Angela Lopez.
He straightened up and cleared his throat, one hand scratching and gripping the back of his neck out of anxious habit while he weaved around the two nurses and aimed for the door.
His throat felt unusually dry and his heart was beating ten to the dozen when he faced Angela. He didn't like the way she was looking at him with one perfected, arched eyebrow and her lips formed into a pout as she bit down on the corners of her mouth.
"Why're you here?"
Why did she have to turn up now? What was she even doing here? (Y/n) wasn't her rookie and it wasn't like they were good friends outside of the station. She had no stakes in being here and watching over one of the rookies, she wouldn't gain anything from this.
Both Angela's arms crossed over her chest and she slouched her shoulder against the wall as she looked up at Tim. This was somewhat of a surprise.
"Figured something had to be up for you to stay with her. You don't call any rookie by their name… the forehead kiss was a nice touch too."
Angela might not have bore witness to what happened in the locker room today, but she had heard about it from the gossip mill, and she had seen Tim clamber into the ambulance along with the rookie. She knew something had to be going on, whether it was a relationship or a friendship or maybe (Y/n) was a family friend. But there had to be something for Tim to tag along with a rookie he shouldn't have known all that well.
And she had heard someone say Tim called her by her name. He didn't do that with rookies, he didn't even do that with any of his colleagues he classed as friends. When they were at work, whether they were laughing and joking or arguing or just chatting, Tim would refer to them by their last name until they left the station and left shift.
Seeing him kiss (Y/n) just now put the cherry on the cake and proved that there was a relationship going on here, not just mutual friends.
"I don't need a lecture, Lopez."
"And you won't get one from me. She's not your rookie, it's not exactly breaking the rules, you just need to be careful… going for Hanks in front of everyone was a risk."
Tim could feel a fire burning within his veins as he wafted his hand behind him to point in (Y/n)'s direction. Could Angela not see what he was seeing? Had she not witnessed what (Y/n) had just said and the fight Tim had to get her to sit on that bed and be looked after?
"Look at the state she's in. He so much as promised to fail her evaluation for being ill, she was just about to walk out of here, feeling like death, because she wants to prove herself. He did this to her."
"So let me talk to Grey and make a report, then nothing comes back to you. Yeah?"
Tim gave a curt nod, his jaw clenched so tightly that his cheekbones were even hurting from the pressure.
It would come back on him- and (Y/n)- if he were the one to give the report on how unfair and unjust Hanks had been towards his rookie. And if anyone found out about their relationship then whatever Tim said would be misconstrude and have less backing and standing because they were a couple.
Nothing like that would backlash against Angela.
***
"You look much better."
(Y/n) managed a smile, ducking head down in the process to look at her hands that were fiddling together on her lap.
Her right hand was bandaged at the moment; she couldn't stand the sight of that shredded vein in a horrible squishy bump on the back of her hand. Constantly speckled with droplets of blood and blossoming in a bruise that was painful from any kind of touch or contact.
There was still an IV taped into the crease of her elbow and she had another day of observations and meds until she could be released to go home. Not that she would be going home anyway; (Y/n) had a feeling she would be going straight to Tim's place. The thought of staying home alone wasn't appealing, and she doubted Tim would allow that either.
The nurse said the antibiotics she was on in the IV would be given to her in tablet form, as she would need to stay on them for the rest of the week to make sure the infection she'd been suffering with was wiped out of her system. At least her fever had gone down overnight.
"Thanks," she murmured, glancing up through her lashes to look over at Lucy who was sat beside the bed.
The other rookie looked neat and smart, clearly going on shift after here instead of just finishing. Lucy's hair was in a neat bun at the back of her head, her limited make up freshly applied and her blouse was clean on. She would be going to the station and getting straight into her uniform after this brief visit.
"Thought you could use one of these."
A slow grin spread across (Y/n)'s lips when Lucy handed over an iced coffee, and not one of the shitty ones from the cafeteria down in the hospital reception area.
"DidI tell you that you're amazing?" (Y/n) took the drink gratefully, glad to have something proper and sweet and not the lukewarm cup of bleach they seemed to serve around here.
"Probably," Lucy spoke with a shrug and leaned back in her chair, bringing her own half-empty drink to her lips. "So when are you back on duty?"
"The start of next week, when the antibiotics finish and I'm cleared."
It would be too much of a risk to go straight back to work, not to mention having to take meds on the job. Keeping her antibiotics in the shop to take in between calls or rushing back to the station, and if she missed a dose she was potentially making her recovery longer and posing health risks. The department didn't want another repeat of yesterday either, so (Y/n) couldn't very well go back until she was fully recovered.
"That's good; you know if you get lonely me and Jackson can keep you company."
"I'm gonna stay with a friend for a while; better than being alone."
"I'm sorry, by the way, about Hanks. Tim kind of went off at him yesterday… do you still have to ride with him?"
Lucy bit down on the inside of her cheek when (Y/n) waved a hand and shook her head. She didn't know the answers to that yet and she wasn't sure that she wanted to either. Tim told her not to worry, but (Y/n) couldn't help it.
If Grey didn't reassign her and made her finish out the next year with Hanks as her TO then she was utterly screwed. Tim had argued and embarrassed him in front of everyone, (Y/n) had collapsed on shift and everyone knew she had pushed herself too hard because he threatened her evaluation. Hanks would make the rest of her time as a rookie as miserable as he could to punish her for this.
It didn't bear thinking about.
The conversation quickly shifted to something else, something far adrift from work and (Y/n) was grateful, though she didn't much feel like talking anymore. She wanted to sleep and let herself disappear until all this cleared itself up on its own. Fat chance of that happening though.
She barely registered Lucy's words when she murmured "Just pop to your bathroom before I head off for shift."
It was easier heading to the small bathroom housing a walk in shower and toilet than to head to the main toilets somewhere in the hospital ward or waiting until she got to the station to go.
(Y/n) began fiddling with one of the rings on her finger, spinning it round and round until pins and needles circulated through her hand and she felt somewhat calm again.
But at the sound of the door creaking open, (Y/n) lifted her head and felt all the blood drain down to her toes as her shoulders slumped until her neck ached.
"What do you want?"
An icicle of dread prickled down (Y/n)'s spine and a harsh Winter crept into her voice as she stared at Hanks. The look in her eyes wished him to leave, to be banished from her sights and never to come back.
He shouldn't be here. He had no reason to be here when he wasn't even a caring TO. He wasn't her friend, he didn't care about (Y/n) or have a friendship with her like the others did with their rookies. He had never been anything but demanding and cruel towards (Y/n) and she knew he wasn't here to check up on her and see how she was recovering. He wasn't that kind of person, especially not to her.
"Can't I check to see how you're doing?"
"No. What do you want Hanks?" The harsh tone crept back into (Y/n)'s voice, though exhaustion was washed across her face. She was still recovering, she had slept through yesterday evening right up to this morning and she felt worse for it. She wasn't in the mood for Hanks to come around playing games and being sly. He either told her why he was here or he left.
Part of (Y/n) was glad that Lucy had chosen this moment to go into the adjoining bathroom, because now (Y/n) had a witness. Whatever Hanks said, Lucy would be able to hear and bear witness to, and not alerting him of this meant that he wasn't going to mince his words.
Hopefully Lucy took the hint and stayed silent in the toilet and waited until Hanks left to make herself known. Then they would have the upper hand.
He stalked into the room, already wearing his uniform which suggested he was either on the job, about to head on the job or he hadn't left the uniform at the station and wore it now to try intimidation tactics.
"I want to know what you've gone and said to Sergeant Grey, because now I've got to go for a meeting with him. Regarding you."
"Alright get out Hanks, I'm not in the mood-"
The words died down on (Y/n)'s tongue and her teeth chomped down on her lip when she attempted to get up off the bed, to show a bit of strength and try to persuade him to leave. But Hanks reached a rough hand out and shoved at her shoulder, forcing her to stumble and slump back onto the bed again with a clenched jaw and her eyes focused on his shoes so she didn't give him the satisfaction of a glare.
"Answer the question rookie."
The way he said it always made (Y/n)'s guts twist. Never like how Tim called her his rookie, that playful tone, that rugged voice and the overall warmth that wrapped around Tim's voice was ten times better than hearing Hanks snide that word at her like this.
She lifted her chin, staring defiantly up at him with an upturned lip and raised shoulders. "I've been here all night, in and out of consciousness. Go ask the nurses; I haven't been coherent enough to talk to anyone, definitely not Grey."
It was the truth. Hanks liked to think he was good at seeing through people's lies- he wasn't as good as he suspected he was- but he would be able to tell that right now, it was the gospel truth passing from (Y/n)'s lips.
She hadn't talked to anyone, she didn't have the chance and she hadn't been well enough to form a complete sentence all evening. She was barely recovering right now to talk to him.
"Hm, well then you can talk to him today then, can't you? Set this whole matter straight, and you can have a word with Bradford while you're at it. Because it must have been him who's spoken some shit about me; he was quick to throw accusations around yesterday when they carted you off here."
"If Grey wants to talk to you regarding me, then I'm sure he'll come find me afterwards for a chat, don't you think? I'll make sure to tell him."
(Y/n) knew she was playing with fire. She could feel the flames licking and catching at her fingertips, slowly working their way along her body until beads of sweat gathered beneath her clothes and the hairs on her arms stood on end.
If they were alone in this room then maybe she wouldn't have been so bold. Perhaps (Y/n) would have gotten her phone out and tried to record the conversation. She wasn't stupid, she knew proof would be needed to show that he was trying to intimidate her, and her word against his was completely and utterly useless.
But she had Lucy held up in the bathroom, who clearly knew something was going on or she would have come out and made her presence known by now. She was (Y/n)'s support, her hidden ace up her sleeve.
"Oh yeah?" Hanks took a menacing step closer until he was right in front of the bed, leering over her with snarling lips and hands clenching into fists at his sides.
He had always looked unsettling to (Y/n), always intimidating and worrying and imposing and right now this was no different. It made (Y/n) quake down to her toes and want to cower back, but she steeled her nerves. She couldn't be intimidated by him; she couldn't.
"And just what will you tell him?"
"The truth."
(Y/n)'s left hand planted down on the bed, propping herself up with her weight leaning heavily on that arm when Hanks suddenly reached out and clamped his hand down on her jaw. His fingers dug into her cheek so tightly she was sure he was cutting through the skin, and his thumb was about to leave its print against her chin.
She tried to turn her head to the side, to pull out of his grasp but he simply held tighter like a viper's grip and yanked her head up until her neck ached and felt like it was going to snap. Combined with the headache she had been suffering since before she was brought in here, (Y/n) felt like she was going to pass out. And maybe that would be a blessing in disguise.
"You'll keep that mouth shut, or I'll shut it for you. You're a boot, you're on probation; I'm not. Make my life harder and I end this little career of yours before it begins."
The effort and the way he thrust her head to the side when he roughly released her jaw from his grasp made (Y/n) slump down against the bed, her head hanging down until her temple pressed into the sheets. Her eyes closed tight to try and ward off the dizzying feeling of her mind spinning in endless ircles inside her head that made her whole body shake.
The sound of the door slamming shut sent vibrations through the whole room and (Y/n) cringed, coiling in on herself instead of trying to sit herself up.
"What the Hell was that? (Y/n), hey are you okay?"
With a wave of her hand, (Y/n) tried to push Lucy away, to ward off her worries and let her know that it was okay. But deep down she knew that it wasn't. Everything was going to be much harder from here on out, even with Lucy here as a witness to it all.
And if she told Tim about this, then things were going to get messy.
