Chenford: One Shot to the Heart

You Are Not Worth It

A/N: Soft Tim, lots of gushy emotions. Also... long. Let me know if you'd like a separate fic made out of this so I can splice it and add more detail too! (haha I may do it anyway) Enjoy!

Lucy POV

She was an absolute mess of distraught rage. Tim had taken yet another bullet that day on shift. Only this time, the fact that he had taken a bullet meant for her was crystal clear.

It was all her fault.

They came across a robbery in progress and things had escalated quickly. Too quickly for them to take account of the third man still inside. Their positioning behind the shop left them too vulnerable. So they were prepping to move, when he appeared at the building's side door, directly in their line of fire. He pulled the trigger, meaning to hit her. The bullet was supposed to pierce her flesh. But it never did.

Because somehow Tim managed to put himself between her and that bullet. Somehow he managed to save her life, for what, the hundredth time now? Like her first day all over again, she found herself having to drag him to cover. Her return fire became more conserved. Her rounds were running low, and back-up was reportedly still two minutes out. Two minutes that Tim clearly did not have. Being the stubborn ass he was, he tried to sit up and fire back. She snapped at him. You stubborn, son-of-a-gun. Get back! And give me your gun.

She wondered why, as she worried about her dwindling supply of rounds, she hadn't thought of just taking his gun earlier. Like a miracle from above, the cavalry descended, easily subduing the gunmen, and carting Tim, ever the optimistic pessimist that claimed he was "fine," off to the ER. Lucy followed Grey understandably giving her leave the rest of the day. She checked in at the front desk, requesting to be notified of his status and the soonest possible moment she could see him. She may or may not have imitated his old T.O. mannerisms, keeping her voice solid and warm but clipped. She meant business and she would take shit from no one.

Her first call was to Angela, who struggled to keep her tone light as she registered the fact that her best friend had been shot once again. "That man will give me grey hair before my son has the honor of doing so," she had joked. Lucy herself had been relatively calm. The shock still had a hold on her. It didn't hit her. But when it did, it came flooding all at once. It was after she had hung up on Angela. She saw it. The blood on her hands. His blood.

Her stomach lurched and she was out of her seat, barreling towards the restroom. She just made it to the toilet before she emptied the contents of her stomach. She could only pray that no one else came in and took advantage of an emotionally unstable cop. She trembled over the lid of the bowl, tears streaming out of her eyes. Get it together, she commanded herself. She pretended Tim had said it. Get up, Boot. Make smart choices. Right now, anyone could come in, grab anything from your belt, and hold up this hospital. She flushed the toilet, washed her hands, and scrubbed away the redness around her eyes as best as she could.

Back in the waiting area, one thing ran around in her mind in an incessant mantra. What the hell were you thinking Tim Bradford?

Tim POV

Was he thinking when he jumped in front of her? That was unlikely. Everything was happening too fast for him to think. He acted on instinct. Those instincts were fueled by a rush of urgency, guilt, regret, and protectiveness. You could say that he did it for himself. To save himself the guilt that would assault him if she got hurt. But that just wasn't the way his mind operated. He was protecting her. That was it.

Everything after the fire pierced his abdomen was a blur. He remembered how rough the ground was as Lucy dragged him across the asphalt. How slippery his gun felt. The panic hidden in the snap of her voice when he tried firing back. The gunshots faded to hollow echoes as his vision began to take on a glow, fading in and out as if clouds were quickly passing in front of the sun. He winced as his body was hoisted. But in the next moment, there was no pain. He grasped a moment of lucidness, just enough to register the EMT at his head. EMT... gurney... hospital. Oh shit. Noooo... not the hospital. With as much strength as he could muster, he said, "I'm fine. I don't need the hospital." A deep-throated chuckle answered him. It sounded like Grey. "Bradford, you are one stubborn man. The hospital is the only way we get to keep you here with us. Maybe I sound selfish. But hey, it's not like we have a whole case full of Tim Bradford replacements. Forgive me for wanting to keep one of the best men I know alive." He had wanted to argue but was just too tired.