The Story Of Us

3. All Yours

"Tell me," Lucy demanded. At the mention of Jackson, everyone in the room started acting strangely, and she wanted to know why. She watched Tim take in a sharp breath and look down where he was seated beside her on the hospital bed.

"Guys, can we have the room?" He asked his friends.

They all flashed sympathetic looks at Lucy and then Tim before leaving the couple alone.

He squeezed her hand and looked at the little velvet box housing her engagement ring that she was gripping in her other hand. As he tried to seek out the right way to deliver the news, Lucy's word interrupted his thoughts.

"He's dead, isn't he?" She asked weakly.

Tim's eyes snapped up to find hers and saw the pain clear on her face. "Yeah, baby, he is. I am so sorry."

She shook her head, she hoped that she had come to the wrong conclusion based on everyone's reactions, and Lucy hated that she was right. "H-how?"

"You don't really want to..."

"I want to know, Tim. We got close at the Academy, and I knew we would be best friends. Maybe I don't remember everything that happened between us once we became rookies, but I know we must have been close. Just...please."

He tucked some of her hair behind her ear and cupped her cheek as he stared down at her. "A cartel leader abducted Angela on her wedding day. Jackson...he tried to stop it, but he was killed."

Lucy felt her eyes sting with tears, and with one gentle, loving brush of Tim's thumb over her cheekbone, she allowed herself to cry.

"I'm so sorry," he murmured and wondered if he was allowed to hold her. Tim paused briefly, watching her quietly cry, and then decided she definitely needed a hug, and so did he, so he encircled her in his arms and tucked her head in the crook of his neck. "I'm so sorry," he repeated while his shirt dampened from her tears.

Lucy shut her eyes and clung her hands to his strong, muscular back. As her mind spun out of control in mourning a friend who she did not totally remember, her nose picked up Tim's scent. Suddenly, she was hit with a wave of familiarity that caused her to feel warm all over.

She remembered laying in an unfamiliar bed, tossing and turning. Then, Lucy got out of bed and dug through her hamper for a black t shirt that she brought up to her nose and sniffed. She climbed back into that bed, clutching the shirt and allowing the scent to waft into her nose and help her sleep.

It was a curious memory.

Lucy wiped at her wet face while looking up at Tim to ask, "Do I sleep with your shirts?"

He gasped at the question, clearly not expecting her to say that. "Y-yeah, well, when I work late, you sleep better when you're holding one of my shirts." Tim cracked a small smile and continued, "I always come home in the middle of the night or right as the sun is coming up to find you curled up with one of my shirts. It's adorable." She felt her cheeks pink up and averted her gaze, but he used a finger to redirect her face to look at him. "I love it. I can leave a shirt here tonight while you sleep if you want."

"Okay," she nodded and fought a smile.

"Wait, you...you remembered that? Right?"

"It was just a little memory. I smelled your shirt just now, and then all of a sudden I saw myself reaching for a shirt that smelled the same. It's nothing big."

"It's something, Luce," he said hopefully.

"I want to remember the big stuff..."

"Like Jackson," Tim offered.