720 days, 17,280 hours, 1,036,800 minutes, 62,208,000 seconds. That's how long it had been since I last saw my family, friends, the people I loved.
I was sitting on the floor, looking up at the celling, just wanting a little bit of silence in all the chaos. Fights breaking out outside in the streets, yelling, glass breaking. It had been almost two years since I went undercover, since I had talked to my co-workers, seen their faces. The alarm went off like it did everyday at the same exact time, I did the same routine I did every single morning. Get dressed, eat breakfast, fix hair, pack bag, check surroundings, read, check again, and again before finally heading out the door and locking it behind me. I moved swiftly to the corner of the alley I visited every single day. The alley was located a few blocks away from where the station stood, I'd quickly glance at the shops passing by as they headed back to it. I missed the days of patrolling, seeing everybody who had become my family over the years. I haven't had contact with any of them since I left, I imagine their voices in my head, and how they looked, not knowing if it was even correct anymore. Maybe none of this was. I walked the streets for a few hours before returning to my place, something was off though. The lock. It was broken. I put my hand on the gun inside the pocket of the hoodie I was wearing, ready for anything.
Inside the house I could hear voices saying, " Nothing", " Nope", " Guys ".
I thought for a second before going around the back cautiously, and entered the house, looking around every corner before I turned it. My hand was still on the gun, ready to pull out quickly if needed. As I rounded the corner into the bedroom containing a queen bed with two regular sized pillows in two old pillowcases on the corner of the bed, as well as a light quilt messily flung on the bed. The room also contained a dresser, a rug that almost outlined the whole room, a stack of books on the nightstand, and a small TV that sat on top of the three drawer dresser. I recognized one of the people, Rio Shaw, I met him during my time working with his gang on a raid of one of their many enemies. They left after about a minute, I stayed in my spot for a second before trying to figure out what Rio and his gang could be planning. soon I started on the research for whatever evidence I would need to help prove the case. Checking through everything important to me, making sure nothing important was taken from me. I had my suspicions of what Rio could be up to based off past activity on the streets and with other gangs. I wrote down any notes the police would need to help explain my suspicions on Rio, making sure to detail every single thing I could think of from the members of his gang and gangs they frequently worked with, discriminations of all the members I could remember, and any other info I had of each person.
" Ok, let's see. Notebook, bagged evidence, photos. Yep all good." I said to myself, going over everything that I placed inside the bag.
Once the bag was finished being packed I started working on my disguise. A beanie, blue shirt with a few white strips, black jeans, white socks, and a pair of old converses. It would take about 20 minutes to walk to the station, and another 20 to get back to the house. There was no room for failure, if anybody recognizes me from the street I would of failed. I've worked to hard to get to where I am right now, I can't mess this up in any way. I went through the plan for a while, going over every single possible thing that could go wrong. I didn't sleep that night, and quickly started the plan, getting ready and going towards the station, the bag flung over my shoulder.
When I finally arrived I almost broke down right there. Through the doors I saw them, standing there, talking. I didn't realize until then how much I really missed them, their faces, their voices. I stood in the lobby, listening around at everything while I kept my head down. After about a minute of me standing there I quickly placed the bag down, putting that note on top of it before heading out and walking around the neighborhood until I got back to the house and changed before continuing my daily routine.
" I'm sorry." I whispered to myself before heading out the door and going into the streets.
The clock read 4:00 pm when I got back inside.
721 days, 17,309 hours, 1,038,780 minutes, 62,326,700 seconds.
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FanfictionLucy Chen has been presumed dead for almost two years. Until something happened that makes everyone question if the last two years. ( I dont own any of the rights to the rookie or it's Characters.)