Chenford Oneshots

I Think I Can Handle that

The precinct was quiet, the late hour casting a soft glow from the overhead lights. Tim sat at his desk, his shoulders hunched, his gaze fixed on the computer screen. But he wasn't seeing the words in front of him—his mind had drifted somewhere else, to a place he rarely allowed himself to go. He was back in the past, back to those painful memories of Isabel at her lowest, feeling helpless as he watched her spiral out of control. Even now, the ache in his chest was raw, the guilt and regret clinging to him like a shadow. He clenched his jaw, trying to shove the memories back into the box he kept locked in his mind.

The sound of footsteps broke his trance. He looked up to see Lucy standing by his desk, her expression soft but filled with concern. He quickly straightened up, putting on a mask of calm he knew she would see through. "Tim," she said gently, her voice just above a whisper, "you okay?" He forced a nod, glancing down at the computer screen in an attempt to avoid her gaze. "Just... got caught up in some reports. Nothing to worry about." She didn't buy it. He could see it in the way her eyebrows drew together, her mouth forming a slight frown. Lucy stepped closer, crossing her arms as she studied him. "Tim, I know you. This isn't just about reports, is it?"

A flash of frustration flared up. He hated being read so easily, even though he knew it was one of the things he loved most about her. She always saw right through him, pushing past his walls with a patience and warmth that left him feeling both exposed and comforted. "Lucy, can we not do this here?" he said, a little more gruffly than he intended. "It's late, and we're at work." 

She hesitated, her gaze softening as she nodded. "Alright," she said, backing off slightly. "But if you need to talk... I'm here. Whenever, wherever."

Tim glanced away, swallowing down the emotions threatening to surface. "Thanks. But I've got it handled." He hoped that would be enough to satisfy her. But as she walked away out of his office, he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd pushed her too far, and a pang of regret settled in his chest.

Later that night, he arrived home, surprised to find Lucy's car parked outside. Tim made his way into his home to find her on the couch. He felt his heart skip a beat—Lucy had a way of doing that to him, of making his carefully guarded heart race with just one look.

"Lucy?" he asked, trying to keep the surprise out of his voice. "What are you doing here? I thought we were going to our own houses?"

She smiled, though there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. "I thought maybe we could finish that conversation. Somewhere a little more... comfortable." He hesitated, the instinct to brush her off rising within him. But the look in her eyes, the way she stood there unwavering, made him pause. She had a way of making him feel like it was okay to be vulnerable, to let someone in. And as much as it terrified him, he knew he needed her in that moment. "Alright," he said softly, sitting down beside her on the couch and he felt his guard slipping just a bit, the weight on his shoulders easing with her presence. Lucy leaned closer, her gaze filled with concern and warmth. "Tim, you don't have to go through this alone. Whatever it is... I'm here." He took a shaky breath, running a hand over his face. It was harder to keep everything bottled up with her so close, the warmth of her hand resting gently on his arm, her steady presence grounding him. "It's just... sometimes things come back," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Stuff from my past. With Isabel."

Lucy didn't say anything right away, but her hand found his, her fingers intertwining with his in a quiet, comforting gesture. Her thumb brushed softly over his knuckles, grounding him in the present, reminding him that he wasn't alone. "I spent so many nights worrying about her, wondering if she'd make it home, wondering if I'd done enough to help her," he continued, his voice breaking slightly. "But it was like... no matter what I did, it was never enough. And I guess part of me still carries that, you know?" Lucy squeezed his hand, leaning her head gently against his shoulder. "You did everything you could, Tim. And I know it doesn't make it easier, but Isabel's choices weren't your fault." 

He nodded, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. "I just keep thinking... what if I had done something different? Maybe things would've been different." She shifted, turning to face him more fully, her free hand coming up to rest on his cheek. The warmth of her touch spread through him, melting the edges of his pain. "You're a good man, Tim Bradford. You give everything to the people you care about. I've seen it firsthand, and I know that Isabel saw it too. But you don't have to carry this burden alone." Tim looked into her eyes, the vulnerability there both terrifying and comforting. "I'm not used to letting people in, Lucy. You know that." She smiled, her thumb brushing gently along his cheek. "I know. But I also know that I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to be strong all the time. Not with me." The weight on his chest began to lift, a warmth filling the space where the memories had been. He leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her forehead, a silent thank-you for all the ways she stood by him. She was his safe harbor, the one place he felt he could let go, even just a little. As he pulled back, she looked up at him with a smile that held a world of reassurance. "Feel better?"

"Yeah," he murmured, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Thanks to you." She grinned, leaning back into him as they settled on the couch. "Good, because you're stuck with me, Bradford. Whether you like it or not." 

He chuckled, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her close. "I think I can handle that."

For the first time in a long time, he felt truly at peace. And as they sat there in comfortable silence, Tim knew he was exactly where he needed to be—with the person who saw him, understood him, and loved him through it all.