Secrets (Never to be Told)

Chapter Eighteen

12 hours. 12 hours and no text or call. Lucy was pacing around Tim's house, while Lila and Hailee played with Kojo in the backyard. She was used to radio silence by now, but usually she would be the one with no way of communicating with her team – it drove her insane.

After Tim left that night, Lucy sat down on the porch in the backyard, letting the melodies of the night finally sing her to sleep until she was woken up by a hungry Kojo who licked her face. Then, Harper's ex-husband dropped off the girls and Lucy's attention was brought elsewhere.

However, now that the kids were accounted for and the dog fed and entertained, she couldn't help that her mind grasped the thoughts of constant worry. Lucy clasped at her necklace – the necklace that Jackson had gifted her for graduating the Rookie Year. She had to hold back all the horses trying to pull tears out of her eyes – Hailee couldn't see her like this, not, when she still hadn't figured out how to tell her daughter the truth about her uncle.

Lucy went on about her day in a haze: looking outside to check on the girls, pace around the house. Cook lunch from whatever Tim had in his fridge and pantry, pace around the house again. Warm up leftovers for dinner, pace around the house. With every round she took, her eyes scanned the clock on the wall. Each tick, each tock, each shift of the minute handle whenever 60 ticks and tocks passed.

20 hours. Still no sign from Tim. Lila and Hailee were fast asleep on the pull-out-couch, while Lucy stared at the clock from the kitchen table. Tick. Tock. By now she'd memorized every picture hung on the wall, the amount of turns it took to open the water hose in the backyard, how many laps Kojo ran on the grass until he was tired out and took a nap.

21 hours. Lucy listened to the soft snoring coming from the living room. Her eyes grew heavy, but she countered her tiredness with coffee – her second in the past hour.

The day was almost over, and there was still no message nor call.

22 hours. She had given up on the caffeine. If she fell asleep, then she wouldn't fight it. Lucy rested her head on her arms, tiredly watching the clock strike midnight. Her eyes fluttered shut, her body ready to finally get some rest – then a key turned, and the door was pushed open. She looked up, her eyes meeting Tim's.

He didn't break the eye contact as he closed the door behind him. Lucy stared at him, blinked – it was him; he was back. She got up from the table, careful not to stumble over a sleeping Kojo and met him in the entrance. "You're okay." Her voice was a whisper – raw, hoarse. It had tiredness written all over it. Without another thought, she wrapped his arms around him. Taking in his scent – sweat, a little bit of blood, sand, and somehow hospital. "I'm okay." Tim stood still, basking in her presence.

Lucy pulled away after a few seconds. She scanned him, cuts, dirt and exhaustion marked his face. "How is Lopez?" Tim sighed, taking off his shoes. "She's safe, but currently in the hospital. It will probably take at least a week, seeing if she goes into labor soon or at the scheduled due date." Lucy nodded, missing important information, but being too tired to ask for it.

Tim's focus shifted. His eyes scanned the room until they stopped in his living room. Seeing the two girls sleeping so peaceful in a time of chaos, he couldn't help but crack a small chuckle. "They're adorable. Too innocent for the harsh reality surrounding their everyday lives." Tim whispered and Lucy smiled. She had tried her best to shield her daughter from the dangers of the world, even, while educating her about it.

Lucy watched as Tim stepped forward on his tiptoes, quietly making his way to the couch without creaking one of the floorboards. He pressed a soft kiss on Hailee's hairline, just how he had done to Lucy almost 24 hours ago, wishing her a good night.

Her yawn broke the nightly silence surrounding them. "You should get to bed, Luce." He walked back up to her, but all she could register was her heart beating faster. This wasn't the first time he's called her 'Luce', but there was something about this time that was different, more intimate. "Let me take a look at your cuts first." Lucy swallowed, already turning around to grab the first-aid kit to not meet his eyes again.

Minutes later, Tim found himself sitting on his small, wooden stool with Lucy hovering over him with cotton balls and disinfectant. She had roughly washed his face, now taking her sweet time to take care of each injury he had brought back from the mission. "Hold still, I'm almost done." Her right hand cupped his face, lifting it in a better angle for her to work. "Done." She stepped away, and Tim immediately missed the warmth of her leg brushing his thigh.

"Thank you." He smiled and got out of the chair. "I will take a quick shower; you can go to sleep already. It's been a long day and I can tell you're tired." Tim ruffled his short hair. "We're gonna have to share my bed tonight, with the girls taking up my couch. I hope that's okay?" More than okay.

Lucy nodded, before leaving the bathroom. She took a deep breath, looking at herself in the mirror. Deep, dark circles decorated her face. She was paler than usual, and her eyes looked weary. Lucy needed the sleep, so she dropped onto the side of the bed, she'd slept on the night before.

Lucy heard Tim enter the bedroom quietly, then felt the mattress dip next to her.

She was fast asleep a few minutes later, her chest rising and falling in an even rhythm. Ever since her kidnapping, it had been something to look out for when she was sleeping – she was breathing, she was alive.

Then, the even breathing turned into sniffles, trembling and constant shifting of her position. Tim stroked her hair in an attempt to calm her – unsuccessfully.

Lucy gasped when she woke up, her body shooting into an upright position. The shirt clung to her sweaty body, and she was breathing heavily. She turned her head to face Tim who was looking at her. "Nightmare?" He copied her position and wrapped her smaller frame into his arms.

The sniffles turned into sobs and for ten minutes, they didn't move. "Shh, I'm here." He rubbed her back, pressed another kiss to her hairline – he had been doing that quite often now.

Once calmed down, they laid down in an attempt to fall back asleep. Tim still had his arm wrapped around her torso, painting patterns on her back to help her fall asleep.

Why was he doing this? They weren't dating, yet it felt too domestic for their relationship. They were parents, sure, but they were also boot and training officer – the lines of the latter blurred. She tried to wrap her head around this, tried to think of a logical reason to his actions, but her body betrayed her, falling asleep before coming to a conclusion.