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fluentmoviequoter · 20 days ago

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Find Your Own Happiness

Requested Here!

Pairing: (initial) Tim Bradford x fem!cop!reader

Summary: After a falling out with your family, you move to LA and meet Tim Bradford. When he breaks your heart to give his to someone else, you're left completely alone.

Warnings: angst! a tiny bit of fluff, r has a sister, familial reconciliation, only half of a happy ending

Word Count: 2.5k+ words

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Seven Months Ago

“You’re not listening to me,” you exclaim, failing to keep your voice level. “I’m just asking you to hear me out on why I think this is the right thing to do.”

“Your feelings don’t matter in this,” your mother snaps. “They are dangerous in police work, and if you can’t understand that, you’re more…”

“More what?” you challenge. “Different? Weaker? A failure? All because I want to move to LA and be an LAPD officer.”

“There’s more to it than that,” your dad says.

“There really isn’t.”

You look to your sister and cousins for help, but they sit silently at the table. No one will stand up for you, so you’ll have to give up and accept what your family thinks and wants, or you’ll have to do something for yourself this time.

“I understand wanting me to follow in Dad and Grandpa’s footsteps,” you begin, quieter and softer. “But aren’t I doing that by becoming a police officer? Why does it matter where I police as long as I do?”

“Because our family is here,” your father barks. “The people I, my father, and dozens of other family members have locked away, the victims we’ve helped through over a century are all right here. Running to Los Angeles guarantees that you’ll disappear in the sea of blue patrol cops. You’ll be meaningless there, but you can make a difference here.”

Your jaw drops as pressure builds in your eyes. “You think I’m meaningless? Following my dreams and what I think is the right thing to do makes me meaningless and I’ll disappear into the back of some LAPD directory, that’s what you’re telling me?”

“We’re only trying to do what’s best for you,” someone interjects.

“No!” you yell, turning to see everyone around you. “You’re trying to talk me out of something so that you can brag about me, control me, and make an even bigger name for yourselves! And-“ You pause to laugh, partly because you’re finally seeing your parents' true reason for supporting you for so long and partly to keep yourself from crying. “I’m glad to be the one to tell you this. A police station like the one you want me to waste away in? That is meaningless. This station isn’t big enough to make a real difference in the big picture. Los Angeles? There’s potential there. So, if you don’t want to support me unless you can control me, don’t bother calling.”

As you storm out of your parents’ house with only a day until your first day at the LAPD, you sigh and let the tears you held in roll over your cheeks. Walking to your car, you decide that if the people inside, the people who are supposed to love you no matter what, don’t care, then you don’t either. No one comes out after you, texts to check if you get home safe, and they certainly don’t tell you goodbye before you board the one-way flight to LAX.

Present Day

“If player two – that’s you - was in a TV show, what would it be?” Tim reads. He drops the card and looks at you before he asks, “What is this game?”

You shrug and write your answer on the board. “Lucy said it was fun.”

“Lucy thinks filming documentaries is fun, we can’t trust her judgement. I love you, but this game is stupid.”

You blink at him, then say, “We have to finish this round. What happened to Tim ‘finish what I start and break their spirits’ Bradford?”

“He’s tired of… whatever stupid name this game has.”

Laughing, you watch him write an answer on his miniature whiteboard. When the timer ends, you show your boards to one another.

“Blue Bloods?” you read incredulously.

“Game of Thrones?” he counters in a matching tone.

“I can fight,” you explain as if it’s obvious. “And even if I couldn’t, Oberyn Martell would teach me.”

“You have a boyfriend. I’m sitting right here.”

“A boyfriend who doesn’t wear golden robes, and who thinks I’d be in Blue Bloods.”

“You’re from a family of cops!” he exclaims. “It makes total sense!”

You try to hide how your smile drops at the mention of your family, and it seems to work because Tim checks his chiming phone rather than asking what happened. It’s been over half a year since you last spoke to your family. Close to a year since any of them told you they loved you. You know it’s over at least until you can think of a way to start a conversation without falling into the same argument as before. If you could make an arrest worthy of getting your name in the LA Times, maybe you would have something to show them you were right.

“Is everything okay?” you ask Tim.

He shakes his head, typing quickly. “That UC op I mentioned – with the guy who looks like me? Something came up.”

“Need any help?”

Tim stands, slides his phone in his pocket, and bends at the waist to kiss your forehead. “I have to go to the station and wait for Jake’s phone to ring again. I’ll keep you updated, okay?”

“Okay,” you answer, tipping your head up for a real kiss.

Tim pecks your lips, apologizes, and whispers, “I love you.”

“I love you,” you echo before the door closes behind Tim.

Looking around your empty apartment, you wonder why people who say they love you tend to leave before you’re ready for them to.

Five hours after Tim left, you get a text. Your heart drops at the noise because 2 a.m. messages and being a cop do not go well together. Reaching for your phone, you silently wish that everything and everyone is okay.

Tim Bradford Lucy and I are going somewhere with Dim’s crew. Angela has the info. See you when we get back.

You know better than to reply, so you type Be safe. I love you and return the phone to its charger. Tim would have told you where they were going if he knew, so you roll over and try to sleep, even though you don’t know where your boyfriend is or what brought you to this moment.

Angela texts you when she leaves Las Vegas. Tim will have more to do, so you don’t expect to see him until tomorrow. Besides, it’s late, and Tim most likely hasn’t slept in the past two days. You open your text thread from him and see the unsent text, then decide to leave it. You can tell him everything in person tomorrow.

It’s after dark, but you’re not sure exactly what time it is when Tim knocks on your front door. He still has greasy gel in his hair and fake tattoos lining his skin. You smile when you see him, but he walks in with no readable expression, and his hands curled into tight fists.

“Are you okay?” you ask softly, as you close the door. “Did everything go well?”

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine and we got the guys,” Tim mumbles. “I- I don’t know how to say this.”

“You can tell me anything, Tim.”

“Lucy broke up with Chris right before we left,” he says. You’re unsure how that’s relevant, but maybe there’s a point to be made. “When we got back, I took her home to drop her off.”

You nod, and Tim runs his fingers through his hair.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” you whisper.

“I realized something in Vegas.”

An uncomfortable yet familiar pressure nudges against your eyes. Everyone who says they love you decides you are meaningless.

“And you’re leaving,” you finish for him, dropping your gaze to the floor. “For Lucy.”

“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” Tim defends, stepping toward you.

“But it did.” You shrug and add, “You can go.”

“I’m–”

“It doesn’t matter. Just go, Tim.”

Tim nods once before he opens the door. With one hand on the door, he says, “Goodnight.”

And then he’s gone. You press your hand over your mouth as the first tears break over your waterline. Stumbling back, you let yourself collide with the wall before you slide down it. With your knees pulled toward your chest, you drop your head and cry for Tim, for your family, for yourself, and for all of the things that you have lost. It seems impossible to keep the things and the people you care about close, and the last seven months have led you to this point too many times.

You wipe your face harshly and stand. “Not anymore,” you decide aloud. Gathering your things, you know you need a break. There’s a diner on the corner that reminds you of home, and you walk toward it as you replay every moment of your relationship with Tim. Every mention of Lucy, every moment he was distracted or seemed to enjoy double dates with her and Chris, and all the little things that should have alerted you to the fact that there was something wrong pop into your mind.

In the diner, you place your phone on the table with the keypad shining bright. You type in a number you remember even after seven months of not dialing it and press the green button.

Miles away, a cell phone beside an open case file rings, and your father answers it without reading the caller ID. He says his last name and waits for the person on the other end to speak.

“Hello, sir,” the man says. “I’m calling about your daughter.”

Your dad sits up straighter, his breath catching at the idea of anything bad happening to you. He’s dreaded this phone call since you decided to follow in his path and become a police officer. He should have kept you close, he thinks, so that he could help keep you safe.

“She’s okay,” the man adds quickly. “Physically, at least. I’m not in the position to tell you the details, but she may need someone to support her.”

“I…”

“I know the basics, I understand it has been a while since you last spoke to her, but if my daughter were dealing with this, I’d want to know.”

“I appreciate the call. I’m sorry, what did you say your name was?”

“Wade. Sergeant Wade Grey.”

The dial tone trills once before you end the call. You planned to call your sister, but the thought of telling her that you’re heartbroken is practically admitting that your parents were right and you should have stayed home. You feel lost, and though this diner once felt like home, you need a real escape. Glancing at your phone, you sigh when you see the time. Your shift starts in six hours, so you need to go home and get some sleep. Tomorrow night, you’ll get as far from the memories of Tim and the meaningless police work you’ve grown to love.

The air is clear tonight, and you trace a random shape in the dirt beneath you as you watch the lights of Los Angeles beneath you. It’s quiet, and you wonder why you never visited the Hollywood Hills before. Tim wasn’t one for romantic outings – though he probably would for Lucy, you think suddenly – and after your first day at Mid-Wilshire, you didn’t have much time to explore on your own. So, now that you’ve had your heart broken and are completely alone, you find a pretty place and breathe.

You’re not alone, you remember. Grey heard what Tim did and helped you have a good day at work despite that. Plus, he put you on patrol far away from Tim. Grey has become like a father figure to you in Los Angeles, but you find yourself missing your blood family more often than before.

Gravel crunches behind you, and you shift so you can reach your off-duty weapon. The headlights turn off just before the driver’s door opens, and your eyes widen when your father steps out.

“Dad!” you exclaim, scrambling to your feet and rushing to hug him.

He wraps you in a warm hug, murmuring apologies as he cradles your head against his chest. He held you like this often when you were young, but you find that it’s more comforting and needed now.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” your mother says, approaching from the passenger side and joining the hug.

“I’m the most sorry,” your sister announces, smiling as she brushes your hair from your face. “I should have stood up for you. I was looking out for myself, and it wasn’t right to let you take all of that. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you,” you reply. “All of you, so much.”

“What happened?”

You pull your lip between your teeth and shake your head. “I started dating a cop. Stupid, I know. He was great, though, and I really loved him. Still do, even though he left me for his former rookie.”

“Scumbag,” your sister grumbles. Your mom taps her shoulder and sends her a scolding look, making you smile. You really missed your family.

“He wasn’t,” you reply. “I think he ignored his true feelings for so long because we were together. They went undercover together, and he couldn’t deny it anymore, not with it staring him in the face.”

“Don’t make excuses for people,” your dad reminds you. “If he couldn’t see and appreciate how amazing you are, he didn’t deserve you. Or your tears.”

You nod and wipe a tear, suddenly remembering you never told them where you were. “How’d you find me?”

“Sergeant Grey called me last night. And he gave me a few ideas about where you may be.”

“He tracked me,” you correct with a laugh. “He’s great.”

“He really is,” your mom agrees. “I can see why you picked his station.”

“So, Tim?” your sister prods.

“Grey is keeping us separated at work for now, which I understand. I just… It was a shock. It felt like everything was falling apart. I can’t lose anyone else.”

You’re wrapped in another hug as your family reminds you, “You didn’t lose us.”

As you drive back to your house with your sister in the passenger seat and your parents behind you, you feel like the hole in your heart is being bridged. Your phone chimes with an incoming message, and your sister is happy to read your messages for you.

“It’s a group chat with Wade Grey, Angela Lopez, Nyla Harper, and Aaron Thorsen. Aaron said, ‘I was team Chenford when I got here, but now’ and Nyla tagged you in a message that says, ‘Come over if you want to talk.’ And I’m not sure I should read the ones from Angela and Wade.”

“Threatening?” you guess with a smile.

“Moderately. Wade sent you a direct one, though. ‘He looks happy. Don’t let that keep you from finding your own happiness in your own time.’ He sounds like Dad.”

“He acts like Dad.”

“Then maybe you should let him set you up.”

You laugh, and when you drive by Tim’s house on your way home, you feel a tug on your heart that won’t go away anytime soon. Though you will have trouble looking at Tim and Lucy in the weeks to come, you got your family back, and maybe your relationship with Tim and the consequent broken heart was worth that.

"You didn't send the last message to Tim," you sister says.

"It wouldn't have changed anything."

"Maybe not. You can change something. Like Wade said, find your own happiness."

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