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8:21pm, Tuesday. Lucy slides her key into the lock of her and Tim's home, him right by her side.
The last 96 hours had been a lot to say the least. A blur of muscle memory, adrenaline, panic, and worry.
One second they were embracing in each other on the beach, newly engaged, and then they were collapsed on the sand reaching for one another.
The following events neither thinks they will ever be able to forget.
Tied to chairs opposite from one another.
Stuck for a full 32 hours.
Everett's minions checking in on them and torturing them.
Lucy breaking free and freeing Tim.
Them finding two guns they could use.
Fighting back all they could.
Tim being shot right next to where he was when she was a rookie.
Lucy performing CPR while the whole of the LAPD reigned down on the building.
Angela holding Lucy back as Bailey and her crew continued CPR.
The "I got a pulse!"
The following days in the hospital.
After two days of abduction and another two in the hospital, they were finally released. And thanks to Angela bringing Tim's truck to the hospital from the beach, they got to go home in a familiar vehicle rather than an uber.
Obviously Tim couldn't drive, so for the first time ever, Lucy drove Tim's truck (despite his complaints, one look from Lucy and an eye flick to his wound shut him up). The whole drive home they sat in silence. Not even the radio was on. He kept his left hand on her thigh across the center console the whole ride, and she placed her right hand on top of it. And she didn't miss the way his eyes never left her left hand on the steering wheel; her ring sparkling in the sunset's light.
So here they are now. They stepped into their home and it's darkness. No barking, since when Kojo's parents missed doggy-daycare pickup, Genny took him. She forced the couple to let her keep the canine while they recovered.
Not a single light was on, so Lucy flicked on the entryway light, and Tim limped beside her. Not a single word was spoken.
It was almost like the high-tension situations they experienced on the job; no words spoken, but a thousand understood. It usually translated to their home life too. After a rough shift where neither could speak so they just spent the night in comfortable silence.
Tim stared out into their living room. Lucy opened her mouth to say something as she stared at his back, something to comfort, but no words came to her. Instead, she reached forward and caressed his back.
She didn't miss the way his body jolted at the touch before he turned to see her and smiled slightly. She smiled back; their exchange of "I know" 's.
"I'm going to go get our bags from the truck." She murmured, and he replied with a quick "mhm".
When she returned and plopped their bags on the floor, the only light on was still the entrance. But this time, Tim wasn't there. Her eyes extended to the living room, to find him spread out on the couch.
His eyes were shut, and the bags below his eyes were visible from where she stood, and she knew her own matched. His head was tipped back, and his feet rested on the coffee table.
She took a moment and stared. As if she needed to believe he was really there.
Eventually his eyes opened, and although normally he would tease her for staring, he didn't today. They both knew why. And she kept staring anyway. After about a minute, he spoke.
"Luce," his voice was barely above a whisper, and raspy; product of two days of little words and post-op. She simply lifted her eyebrows to acknowledge him. His right arm stretched to the top of the couch; inviting her over. She wasted no time, and cleared the distance in a few steps.
She collapsed in his arms immediately. Her head buried in the crook of his neck; right hand below her head on his chest. His left hand came to hold her wrist, and his right arm wrapped around her body.
Both of them closed their eyes as they breathed each other in. Their existences.
They were alive.
They survived.
They laid like this for five minutes... ten.. fifteen? Neither checked the time once. But eventually Lucy shifted positions slightly. Her body shifted where her head laid completely on his chest and her body went horizontal on the couch as her feet propped up on the side of the sofa. Both her hands rested on her chest.
His right hand stroked her hair for around a minute before it dropped to where her hands were. He took her left hand into his, and the two stared at the ring for a moment.
Proof that their love survived.
The silence stretched on for a moment.
"You really said yes." It sounded like more of a question than a statement. He saw the way her cheeks rose as she smiled. "I did."
She rose to sit next to him (normally in moments like this she would climb onto his lap, but she had to be wary of his GSW) and her hand found his face.
"And I would a million times over again," she promised; the emotion evident in her voice. They beamed at one another for a moment, tears in both of their eyes, before their lips found the others.
The kiss was tender and soft. Nothing compared to the usual hunger they had. It spoke a million words.
She pulled back while still remaining impossibly close.
"You okay?" she breathed, thumb caressing the side of his head right next to his ear.
He reached his left arm up to cusp the back of her head as he brought their foreheads to touch. Their eyes closed almost in unison.
His response was so quiet she wouldn't have heard it if she hadn't been listening for it.
"I am now."
Their phrase. The one they always used after a traumatic event. She grinned, and brought their lips together once more.
Neither knew how long their healing would take. And nothing would ever be the same again.
But at least they knew they were in it together this time.
And that was something nobody could ever take from them.