---
5:55 AM – Mid-Wilshire Division
The day started with the taste of metal in the air.
That was how Alice knew something was wrong — not the call, not the briefing, not even the odd way Tim avoided eye contact as they loaded their gear.
It was the static.
The kind of feeling she used to get before a firefight.
Like the world was holding its breath.
---
6:18 AM – Briefing Room
Sergeant Grey’s tone was clipped.
“We’ve got a manhunt in progress. Suspect is Marcus Vero — 38, wanted for a double homicide and suspected in multiple arms deals. Armed, dangerous, and unpredictable. He ditched his car near East Hollywood, fled on foot. We’ve got air units overhead and patrol on the ground.”
Alice scanned the printout.
The photo showed a thick-set man with dark eyes and a military buzzcut.
“I know this guy,” she murmured.
Tim glanced at her.
“I met him in Army medical. He wasn’t a soldier — he was cargo. Shrapnel wounds. Took six hours to stabilize. He bit a nurse. They shipped him out for psych eval.”
Tim frowned. “He knows your face?”
“He might.”
“Then you don’t go in alone.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Since when do I ever?”
His voice dropped. “Since you became someone I can't afford to lose.”
She didn’t respond.
But her fingers brushed his.
Just once.
---
7:02 AM – East Hollywood, Alley Grid Search
Alice and Tim cleared alley after alley with careful precision. Street by street. Dumpster to fire escape. No sign of Marcus Vero.
Then Alice’s phone buzzed.
Unknown Number.
She frowned.
Opened the message.
> “Didn’t think I’d see you again, Doc. You patch me up just to try and put me down? That’s cold.
— M.”
Her blood iced.
She turned to Tim, holding up her screen.
He took one look and cursed under his breath.
“He’s watching.”
---
7:15 AM – Command Center, Onsite Van
Grey reviewed the message with clenched teeth. “We’ve got a direct threat. Hartwell, you’re priority protection until we contain him.”
Alice folded her arms. “Sir, I’m a better asset in the field.”
“You’re not bait.”
“I didn’t say I’d be bait. But I’m not sitting this out.”
Tim, to his credit, didn’t argue. He just stepped beside her. “She’s right.”
Grey sighed. “Then stay in pairs. No exceptions.”
As they left the van, Tim muttered under his breath, “You’ve got a talent for drawing sociopaths.”
“Comes with the territory.”
He looked at her.
His jaw worked.
Then: “You sure you’re okay?”
Alice gave a tight smile. “I don’t think I’ve ever been okay. But I’m alive. That counts.”
---
8:05 AM – Empty Construction Yard, South Grid
The call came in: possible suspect sighted near a half-finished commercial block. Tim and Alice responded first.
They cleared the first floor quickly — empty office studs, rebar-streaked flooring, concrete dust in the air.
“Back wall,” Alice whispered.
They rounded the corner—
Gunfire erupted.
Alice dove behind a stack of drywall.
Tim returned fire, crouching low.
“Cover me!” she shouted.
“No—”
She sprinted.
Again.
Straight into the chaos.
Because this wasn’t about being reckless anymore.
This was personal.
---
8:07 AM – South Grid Construction Yard
Alice moved through the half-built office wing with her weapon drawn, boots crunching over splinters and dust. The gunfire had stopped. The silence was worse.
The kind of quiet predators loved.
She kept her breath shallow.
Listened.
Listened harder.
And then — from behind the stack of insulation — a voice.
“I was hoping it’d be you.”
Alice raised her weapon instantly.
“Marcus.”
He stepped out with his hands loosely at his sides, one still slightly stained with dried blood. His jacket flapped open, revealing the pistol holstered in his waistband.
“I was wondering how long it’d take before the Army started sending its old war angels after me.”
Alice didn’t blink. “You’ve killed two people, and you’re threatening more. This ends now.”
He smiled. “You really believe that? You think a badge makes you stronger than what we came from?”
“I think a badge gives me the chance to stop people like you before someone else dies.”
“Still trying to save what’s already broken.”
His tone was pitying.
Almost sincere.
And then — quick as a breath — he moved for his weapon.
Alice fired.
The round hit him center mass — but not center enough.
He stumbled, dropped — but still reached for his gun.
Then—
BANG.
A second shot rang out from behind her.
Alice turned.
Tim.
He’d followed her in, eyes blazing, stance perfect.
Marcus didn’t move again.
---
8:10 AM – Immediate Aftermath
Alice dropped to one knee, exhaling hard. The adrenaline surge left her shaking.
“You okay?” Tim demanded, already by her side.
“Yeah. Grazed me — vest caught most of it.”
He placed his hand on her side, over the edge of the vest where the bullet had skimmed through the fabric.
“I told you not to run in alone.”
She looked up at him, dazed. “You followed me.”
“I always will.”
She started to speak.
But then everything swam sideways.
Her vision tilted.
Blood.
Tim caught her before she hit the ground.
---
8:40 AM – County ER
The wound wasn’t deep — a slice just beneath the ribs from falling debris, not the bullet itself.
Still, Tim paced the waiting room like a man on a countdown.
Lucy showed up ten minutes later, flanked by Jackson West.
“She okay?” Lucy asked.
“She will be,” Tim replied, jaw clenched.
“She’s stubborn,” Jackson offered.
“She’s reckless,” Tim snapped. “And brave. And brilliant. And every time she takes a hit like that, I think about what my life looks like if she doesn’t get back up.”
Lucy raised an eyebrow. “Have you told her that?”
Tim glanced toward the exam room door.
“No.”
“Then maybe stop pacing and start talking,” Lucy said gently. “She’s not afraid of danger. She’s afraid of you holding back.”
---
9:00 AM – ER Room 3
Alice sat on the edge of the hospital bed, bandaged and annoyed, scrolling through her phone with a nurse’s discharge papers crumpled beside her.
When Tim walked in, she didn’t look up.
“Let me guess. ‘I told you so.’”
“No.”
She looked up at that.
He came closer. Hands in his jacket pockets. Eyes stormy.
“I’m sorry.”
She blinked. “For what?”
“For trying to protect you like you’re breakable, instead of trusting you like you’re mine.”
Alice’s breath caught.
He took one more step.
“You scare the hell out of me,” he said quietly. “Because I love you. Because I’ve built this life to be controlled and simple, and you came in like a storm.”
She swallowed. “Tim—”
“I don’t want to fix you. Or save you. I just want to stand beside you.”
Alice stood slowly.
Then reached for him.
Tugged him close.
“You already are,” she whispered.
They stayed like that — forehead to forehead — as the rain outside finally stopped.
---
11:12 AM – Mid-Wilshire Division
Alice was back on her feet within hours. The wound was clean, the stitches tight. And though Grey had recommended a 24-hour rest period, Alice had laughed and said, “There’s more danger at home. At least here I get paid to be chased.”
She and Lucy geared up together in the locker room, the tension between them not heavy — but different.
Lucy finally asked, “You okay?”
Alice glanced at her. “Define ‘okay.’”
Lucy zipped up her vest. “Still feeling like a storm in boots?”
“Worse,” Alice said. “I think I’ve started to care if I survive it.”
---
12:45 PM – Patrol: Downtown Vicinity
Alice and Tim cruised through their zone like clockwork — coordinated, sharp, calm.
But both of them were waiting for something.
A break.
A blow.
An aftershock.
It came in the form of a call from dispatch.
> “Unit 7-Adam-15, Code 6 at 1840 Granville. Possible 211 in progress. Caller claims the suspect ‘asked for the lady officer with silver eyes.’”
Tim’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. “That can’t be a coincidence.”
Alice stared ahead. “Nope.”
They responded anyway.
Because running was never an option.
---
1:10 PM – Abandoned Motel, Granville Street
The motel was rotted from the outside in. Broken windows. Stained walls. A sign that read VACANCY in flickering red neon.
Inside, it was worse.
No power.
One working hallway light.
Peeling wallpaper like skin coming off a corpse.
They cleared it slowly.
Room by room.
Alice led the way.
And then — a door.
Room 212.
Closed.
But a single line carved into it:
> “HARTWELL”
She swallowed.
Tim said, “We call it in, wait for backup.”
She didn’t move.
“Alice.”
Her voice was flat. “If they know my name, they already know how to find me.”
And then she kicked the door open.
---
1:13 PM – Room 212
It was empty.
Mostly.
Just a chair.
A burner phone.
And a Polaroid.
Alice approached the photo first.
It was her.
In uniform.
Taken that morning.
She turned to the phone. A single message was open on it.
> “Next time, I won’t miss.”
Tim stood beside her now. Reading it.
“I’m going to kill whoever sent that,” he said coldly.
Alice stared at the photo.
“I’ve been hunted before,” she murmured. “But it’s never felt this personal.”
Tim turned to her. “Then we find out who did this. And we stop them. Together.”
She nodded.
But her voice was distant when she asked: “What if we can’t?”
Tim stilled.
“What if one day we don’t get to each other in time?” she asked.
He didn't answer immediately.
And that — that — was what scared her the most.
---
2:30 PM – Parking Garage Rooftop
Later, they sat in silence on the edge of the division’s rooftop lot — high above the city, wind tousling their hair, the photo in Alice’s pocket like a second heartbeat.
“I don’t want to die with you angry at me,” she said quietly.
“I’m not angry.”
“Then what are you?”
He exhaled.
“Scared.”
She looked over.
“I think about all the ways this could go wrong. Every day. And not just for you. For me. For us.”
Alice nodded slowly. “And if it does?”
“Then we burn through it,” he said. “Side by side.”
She turned toward him.
And he kissed her like a vow.
---
3:05 PM – Temporary Protective Detail, Officer Housing
After discovering the photo, Grey insisted Alice take a protective post assignment for the night.
“That’s not a suggestion,” he’d said, voice low.
Tim didn’t argue.
But he didn’t leave either.
Technically, Alice was being watched by two plainclothes officers parked down the block.
Unofficially?
She was with Tim.
Inside his apartment.
Again.
---
4:27 PM – Tim’s Living Room
Alice paced.
She’d never been good at stillness. Not in hospitals. Not in war zones. And definitely not when she was the center of a threat with no visible face.
Tim watched her from the couch, his vest half undone, a hand resting on the empty space beside him.
“You’re vibrating,” he said.
“I don’t like being on this side of the board,” she muttered. “I don’t like waiting.”
“I know.”
“Feels like a trap I can’t shoot my way out of.”
“You’re not alone in this.”
She stopped pacing.
Then: “What if the next photo’s of you?”
Tim stood.
Closed the space between them.
“I don’t care what we’re up against,” he said, voice like stone. “No one touches you. Not without going through me.”
Her fingers gripped his shirt.
“I’m scared,” she admitted.
“I’m not.”
She looked up at him.
“You’re lying.”
He smiled softly. “Yeah.”
---
5:19 PM – Tim’s Kitchen Window
The first bullet shattered the glass.
Alice hit the floor by instinct.
Tim had already pulled her down, covering her body with his.
“Sniper!” he shouted. “Back corner rooftop—two buildings over!”
More glass exploded across the kitchen tiles.
Tim dragged her into the hallway, kicking the door shut behind them.
His breathing was tight.
Alice’s hand moved to her sidearm.
“Stay here,” he said.
“No.”
He looked at her.
Eyes burning.
“You are not the shield,” she snapped. “Not alone.”
He nodded once.
Together, they moved.
---
5:25 PM – Rooftop Two Buildings Over
They reached the sniper’s perch with backup from patrol—Lucy and West included.
The shooter was gone.
Just an empty rifle case.
And a note, wedged under a rooftop bolt:
> “You weren’t supposed to duck. Next time, I aim lower.”
Alice stared at the words.
Tim didn’t speak.
But his hand curled around hers.
Hard.
Like she was the only thing anchoring him to the moment.
---
6:08 PM – Division Office, Private Room
Grey reviewed the footage.
“Professional setup. Ex-military or trained criminal. They knew your window. They knew your schedule.”
Alice sat still.
Silent.
Until she said, “Then they’ll try again.”
Grey looked at her. “That’s why we’re moving you to secured housing.”
Alice stood. “No.”
Grey blinked. “Excuse me?”
Tim rose too. “Sir—”
“No,” she repeated. “If I disappear, they win. I’m not going underground because some coward can’t face me up close.”
Grey watched her carefully.
Then nodded once. “Then we set the trap. On your terms.”
Alice’s voice was steady. “Good.”
Because she was done running.
And next time, she’d be ready.
---
8:33 PM – Rooftop at Overwatch Position, Downtown L.A.
Tim stood in full tactical gear, positioned four stories above the block where Alice walked. She wore her vest under a hoodie, head down, moving like she belonged. Patrol passed her without pause. A target without looking like one.
They were using her as bait.
She had agreed without blinking.
But Tim hadn’t.
Not really.
Not in his heart.
---
8:41 PM – Surveillance Van, Audio Feed Live
Alice’s voice came through Tim’s earpiece as she murmured to dispatch, “No eyes yet. Approaching next checkpoint.”
Grey’s voice followed. “Copy. All units in position.”
Tim scanned the rooftops. Every movement sharpened to a blade in his mind.
Then — movement.
Far east.
Two rooftops down.
A glint.
Rifle scope.
There.
“Visual on the shooter,” Tim barked. “West corner, above liquor store. Taking position.”
Grey replied, “Hold for command.”
But Tim was already moving.
---
8:44 PM – Rooftop Confrontation
Tim tackled the shooter just as he was lining up the shot.
Gunfire cracked — wide — missing Alice by inches.
She dropped instantly behind a parked car.
Tim wrestled the man to the gravel, fists connecting, adrenaline blinding.
The man pulled a knife.
Tim slammed his forearm into the guy’s neck.
And saw his face.
It wasn’t just a hitman.
It was Victor Vale.
Discharged Army. Former combat medic. Missing from the same base Alice had served at.
It was personal.
“You’re the one who sent the messages,” Tim hissed.
Victor spat blood. “She let him die.”
Tim froze.
“What?”
“She let Callen die. She could’ve saved him. Didn’t even try.”
Tim’s fist shook in the air.
But he didn’t swing.
Instead, he called it in.
---
8:50 PM – Arrest & Aftermath
Victor was cuffed, bleeding, screaming obscenities as he was dragged off.
Alice reached the rooftop just in time to see him hauled into the elevator.
She looked at Tim.
His face was pale.
“You okay?” she asked.
He turned.
And whispered, “Is it true?”
---
9:04 PM – Division Locker Room
Alice sat on the bench, gloves in her hands, the weight of memory pinning her down.
Tim sat across from her.
“I didn’t let Callen die,” she said, voice flat. “I made a choice between three patients. One with a 10% chance. Two with 90%. I saved the two.”
She looked at him. “But I still hear his voice.”
Tim didn’t speak.
Not for a long time.
Then he said:
“You made the right call.”
“I made the impossible call.”
“And you’ve been carrying it ever since.”
Alice looked up, eyes glassy.
“I didn’t ask to be forgiven.”
“You don’t have to be,” he replied. “You lived. That’s the bravest thing I’ve ever seen.”
She broke then.
Quietly.
Not sobbing. Just letting go.
And Tim held her through all of it.
---
10:10 PM – Outside the Division
The rain had stopped again.
But something had shifted between them — a trust too deep for words.
“Do you ever think about what happens when the shooting stops?” Alice asked.
Tim nodded. “All the time.”
“And?”
He stepped closer.
Took her hand.
“When it does, I want to find out who we are outside the badge.”
She didn’t say anything.
Just kissed him like she agreed.
And this time, they didn’t part like they were waiting for the next bullet.
They parted like they might actually make it.
---