The disadvantages of the LAPD

The day was cold, the sky heavy with clouds as if the heavens themselves were mourning the loss of Lucy Chen. The funeral was quiet, somber. Friends, colleagues, and family gathered in a small cemetery on the outskirts of town, the air thick with sorrow. It wasn't just the passing of an officer—it was the loss of a friend, a sister, a protector. A life that had been cut short far too soon.

Tim stood at the front of the crowd, wearing his dress blues, his posture stiff but with a solemn heaviness that reflected how deeply he had been affected. Beside him, the rest of the crew stood in solidarity—Nyla, Angela, Jackson, and even Nolan, all of them dressed in black, their faces masks of grief. They couldn't believe she was gone. How could anyone?

Lucy's parents were one of the first to arrive, their faces etched with anger and regret, as if they were fighting with the reality of their daughter's death. They had never been supportive of Lucy's career in the LAPD, and now, standing at the edge of her grave, their unspoken words hung in the air. They had pushed her so hard, kept so much distance. But now, it was too late. Lucy was gone, and their relationship with her was now nothing more than empty space.

Her mother kept wiping her eyes, but there was no comfort in her grief. Her father stood tall, his jaw clenched, his eyes hard as though angry at the world for taking his daughter away. But there were no words for the weight of this kind of loss. Their daughter, their only child, was gone.

The moment the casket was wheeled out, the mood of the crowd shifted. The finality of it all hit everyone in that one instant. Tim had promised her that he would never leave her side, and he hadn't broken that promise. The sight of the casket—the beautiful, white flowers adorning it—tore at him. This was it. He would never get to see her again. He would never be able to tell her how much she meant to him.

As the casket was placed into the hearse, Tim couldn't tear his gaze away. He was lost in the moment, remembering the first time he met her, how she'd been an instant friend, how their relationship had grown, how they had shared everything. He couldn't stop thinking about the last words they'd exchanged, how he had kissed her, and how he had told her, "I love you." The pain of not hearing her say it back was almost unbearable.

Then, out of nowhere, a voice cut through the silence.

"Officer, arms up!" Grey's voice rang out across the field.

Tim's head snapped up, his chest tightening. It was time. The final salute.

Everyone present, without hesitation, raised their arms in a silent salute to the fallen officer. There were no words. No speeches. Just this gesture, a symbol of respect for the life that had been given in service, for the bravery, for the sacrifices made.

Tim, however, didn't let go. His arm remained raised, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. His gaze remained fixed on the casket as the rain began to fall. He didn't move, didn't flinch when the cold droplets hit his face. He couldn't.

He had to stay. He had to stay for her.

As the casket was lowered into the ground, the skies opened up. The rain started, slow at first, then coming down in a steady, mournful downpour. It felt like the earth itself was crying. It wasn't just rain—it was a reflection of the heartbreak and loss that everyone felt in that moment.

Most of the people had started to leave, filing out quietly, their heads bowed, offering their last respects in silence. But not Tim. Not Lucy's family. Not her closest friends.

Tim stayed, his posture rigid, his heart aching with every second that passed. He hadn't moved. Not an inch. His gaze remained on the grave, even as the rain soaked through his uniform. He wasn't going anywhere. He had promised her he would stay, and he would.

Tamara, standing a few feet away, noticed that Tim wasn't moving, wasn't acknowledging the weather. She didn't blame him. She understood why he stayed.

She stepped forward, walking over to him with a black umbrella in her hand. "You're not alone, Tim," she said softly as she held it over both of them, shielding him from the rain.

Tim didn't say anything at first. He didn't need to. Her presence beside him, offering quiet support, was enough. She knew what he was feeling, and she respected his space, letting him grieve in his own way.

"I miss her, Tamara," Tim whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I can't believe she's gone."

"I know," Tamara said softly, nodding. "We all miss her. But you're not alone, Tim. You don't have to do this alone."

One by one, the rest of Lucy's friends and colleagues remained. Jackson stood nearby, his eyes filled with unshed tears, his own grief too fresh to articulate. Angela stood beside him, holding his hand tightly, both of them too numb to speak.

Nyla stood a little distance away, her eyes red from crying, her body swaying slightly as she fought to stay strong. She didn't know how to process the loss of someone she had worked with for so long, someone who had meant so much to her.

Grey stood near the edge of the grave, arms crossed, his eyes shadowed with sorrow. He had seen so many officers die, but this one felt different. Lucy wasn't just a colleague; she had been like family.

Even Nolan remained, standing a few feet away, his cap pulled low to shield his face from the rain. He was an older man, who had seen a lot in his time, but this one hurt too much. He had seen how much Tim had cared for Lucy, and he knew that it wasn't just grief Tim was carrying—it was a sense of guilt that weighed on him heavily.

The cemetery began to clear out, the last of the mourners offering their final respects before leaving the scene. But Tim, Jackson, Angela, Tamara, Grey, Nyla, and Nolan—they all stayed. Even as the rain fell harder, as the minutes turned into hours, they didn't leave.

The rain soaked through their clothes, their shoes sinking slightly into the wet earth beneath them, but none of them moved. They remained as one, as a family of sorts, honoring the woman who had touched all their lives in ways words could never express.

As the final shovel of dirt was dropped onto the casket, the sound of it landing was like a punch to the gut. The finality of it, the end of Lucy's story, hit them all hard. But they stayed. They stood together, silently grieving for the friend they had lost, the friend they would never see again.

When everyone else had left, when the grave was quiet and the rain had slowed to a soft drizzle, Tim was still there. He stood in front of the grave, staring down at the earth that now held Lucy. He hadn't spoken in what felt like hours, his mind racing with memories of her, of their time together.

"I'm sorry," Tim whispered into the quiet, rain-soaked night. "I should've been there. I should've protected you." His voice cracked with guilt, and tears streamed down his face. "I love you, Lucy. I always will."

Tamara stepped forward, standing beside him. She didn't say anything, just stood quietly with him as the rain continued to fall.

The last few mourners had left, the cemetery now quiet and still. Tim stood there, his hand resting on the cold, wet earth that marked the place where Lucy now lay. He wasn't ready to leave her behind, not just yet. He wasn't ready to say goodbye.

But eventually, he would have to. Just like everyone else, he would have to move forward, carrying the pain of loss with him. But not today. Not yet.

In the end, it was just Tim, standing in the rain, holding onto the memory of the woman he loved.