The babysitter

Old wounds

Lucy's phone buzzed in her pocket, the familiar vibration startling her out of her thoughts. She fumbled to grab it, her heart racing. She glanced at the screen—an unfamiliar number. Her stomach tightened.

"Hello?" she answered, her voice steady but laced with worry.

"Lucy Chen?" a calm voice on the other end asked.

"Yes, this is Lucy."

"This is Dr. Harding from St. John's Medical Center. Are you available to come in immediately? There's been an incident with Tim Bradford."

Lucy's world seemed to slow down. "What happened?" Her pulse quickened, panic bubbling up in her chest.

"It's... it's his old injury. The bullet fragment that was lodged near his spine—it's shifted. We need to take precautions."

"Where is he? What's going on?"

"We've stabilized him for now, but we need to do surgery as soon as possible. We're just waiting for your consent before we proceed."

Lucy's thoughts raced. She felt a cold chill spread through her body as she processed the words. Tim—Tim was hurt. He was never the one to show signs of weakness, to admit vulnerability. He never spoke about the bullet wound or its aftermath.

"I'll be right there," Lucy said, her voice barely above a whisper, her heart pounding in her chest.

Minutes later, Lucy was in her car, the engine roaring to life as she sped through the streets, her mind consumed by fear. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the steering wheel, trying to focus on the road. But all she could think about was Tim.

What if it was worse than they were saying? What if they couldn't save him?

No. She couldn't think that way. She wouldn't.

She reached the hospital in record time, her car screeching to a halt in front of the emergency entrance. She barely remembered to park before she rushed inside, her breath coming in short gasps.

At the reception, she didn't need to ask for directions. The nurse behind the desk saw the panic in her eyes and gestured for her to follow.

"His room's this way," the nurse said gently, her voice soothing but firm.

Lucy's footsteps were quick and purposeful, her thoughts a blur. She passed through corridors, her pulse thundering in her ears. She was finally standing in front of the door to Tim's room.

"Please, God, don't let it be too late," she whispered under her breath as she pushed the door open.

Tim was lying in the hospital bed, pale and still, his face drawn in discomfort. The usual fire in his eyes was absent, replaced by a dull exhaustion. He looked so vulnerable, so unlike the man who had always been invincible in her eyes.

"Tim..." she whispered, her voice breaking as she stepped closer to him.

His eyes fluttered open at the sound of her voice. "Lucy?" His tone was weak, a stark contrast to his usual confident baritone.

"I'm here," she replied, her hand gently brushing his. She could feel the warmth of his skin beneath her touch, and it calmed her, even if just for a moment.

"Dr. Harding said you might need surgery... but you didn't go yet," she said, her voice quiet, filled with concern.

Tim gave a half-hearted smile. "They wanted to. But I... I don't want to risk it yet."

"Tim, you need to listen to them," Lucy said, her voice steady but filled with urgency. "You can't wait any longer. You're putting yourself in danger."

"I don't want to be in a hospital bed for weeks again," Tim muttered, his eyes closing briefly. "I don't want to be... weak."

"Tim, it's not weakness," Lucy said, squeezing his hand. "It's about being smart. You need this surgery, or it could get worse. It could paralyze you."

"I know," Tim whispered. "But I... I don't want to worry you. I don't want anyone to feel sorry for me."

Lucy shook her head, her heart aching. "Tim, no one is going to feel sorry for you. But I will worry. And I'm not letting you get any worse."

Tim sighed, his eyes opening again. "I'll do the surgery," he said, his voice resigned.

Lucy smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. "Good. I'm here with you, Tim. You're not alone in this."

He gave her a faint smile, his grip on her hand tightening just a bit.

The doctors prepped Tim for surgery, and Lucy stayed by his side the entire time. She kept talking to him, telling him stories and jokes to keep his mind off the looming procedure. She wasn't sure how much of it he was processing, but she wanted him to know she was there, and she wouldn't leave his side.

When it was time for the surgery, Lucy kissed his forehead, promising to wait for him.

"I'll be right here when you wake up," she whispered.

Tim gave her a small nod, his lips twitching in a faint attempt at a smile before they wheeled him away.

The hours dragged on, each minute seeming to stretch longer than the last. Lucy sat in the waiting room, her thoughts racing. The fear gnawed at her insides. What if something went wrong? What if they couldn't fix him?

She stood and paced, feeling the walls close in on her. She wanted to be there with him, not sitting in some sterile room, waiting for news.

A few hours later, a doctor finally entered, and Lucy stood up immediately, her heart pounding.

"Ms. Chen?" The doctor asked, glancing at her clipboard.

"Yes, that's me," Lucy replied, her voice tight.

"The surgery was successful," the doctor said, offering a warm smile. "He's in recovery now, and we expect him to wake up soon. He's stable, but we'll continue to monitor him closely."

Lucy let out a long breath, the weight lifting off her chest. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

"Of course. You can go in and see him once he's fully awake," the doctor said, giving her a comforting nod before leaving.

Tim's eyes fluttered open hours later, the soft beeping of the heart monitor in the background. He blinked a few times, adjusting to the dim light in the room.

Lucy was sitting beside him, her head resting on the edge of the bed, her hand still holding his. She hadn't left.

"Lucy?" Tim rasped, his voice still hoarse from the anesthesia.

"I'm here," Lucy said, looking up with a soft smile. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I got hit by a truck," Tim muttered, his lips twitching in a small grin.

Lucy laughed, her heart swelling with relief. "Don't ever scare me like that again," she said softly.

"I'll try not to," he replied, his eyes closing for a moment.

She leaned forward, brushing a kiss against his forehead. "I'm so glad you're okay."

Tim looked up at her, his gaze soft. "I'm glad you're here."

As the days passed, Tim's recovery continued. Lucy stayed by his side every step of the way, never once leaving him alone. She kept telling him stories, distracting him from the pain as best as she could.

The bullet fragment that had been so close to his spine was removed, and Tim was already planning on getting back to work, even though his doctors insisted he take it easy for a while.

But Lucy knew better.

She knew he wouldn't rest until he was back at it. And she was prepared for that fight.

As long as he was by her side, she'd fight right alongside him.