❪ 𝖚𝖑𝖙𝖗𝖆 𝖛𝖎𝖔𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊 ❫ ˖ ׁ ⁩ 𓂃
𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚁𝙾𝙾𝙺𝙸𝙴  ⸻  ✧˖°.ᐟ
❝ UNLUCKY NUMBER ❞

「𝜗𝜚 . ❝ it's the moments in between calls, in the quiet of the squad car, that she starts to think maybe this feeling isn't just a passing thing. ❜

"𝑌𝑂𝑈𝑅𝐸 𝑅𝐸𝐴𝐿𝐿𝑌 making yourself comfortable in hospitals, Char." John grinned as he nudged her shoulder lightly, his tone playful but with a hint of concern behind the words.

Charlotte rolled her eyes, leaning back against the stiff hospital pillows that rustled beneath her. The scent of antiseptic hung heavily in the room, and the low hum of the hospital machinery buzzed in the background, an unrelenting reminder of where she was. The white fluorescent lights cast everything in a sterile, cold glow, contrasting starkly against the warmth of John's teasing grin.

"Maybe it's a sign," she said, her voice carrying that familiar sarcastic lilt as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"I should switch careers, start working here instead. I think I'd make a great doctor." She raised an eyebrow as if daring them to disagree, though the smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth betrayed her.

John snorted softly, shaking his head. "Oh yeah? Trading in your badge for a stethoscope? You'd scare the hell out of the patients."

Jackson, who had been leaning against the wall, arms folded, let out an exaggerated huff of disapproval. His dark eyes widened in mock disbelief as if the very idea of Charlotte leaving the force was an affront to his sensibilities. "No way," he said, stepping forward dramatically, as if her decision had already been made.

"Stop right there. We'd miss you too much. You can't just abandon us for hospital gowns and IV drips." His tone was light, but the underlying sentiment was real.

They all knew Charlotte brought something irreplaceable to the team, her tenacity, her wit, her fire.

Charlotte chuckled softly, but her smile was a bit more distant now, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of the hospital blanket that was draped over her lap. The fabric was scratchy, uncomfortable in a way that only hospital linens could be.

She stared down at it for a moment, her mind wandering to the reasons why she was there in the first place. The overdose, the fentanyl, everything she hadn't been prepared for. It still felt unreal, like a nightmare she hadn't fully woken up from.

But she couldn't let them see that. Not now. They were here to cheer her up, to pull her back into the world of banter and easy camaraderie. She couldn't let them see the cracks, the exhaustion that was slowly creeping its way back into her bones.

Jackson plopped down on the edge of her bed, careful not to jostle her too much. "Seriously, though, can you imagine Charlotte as a doctor? She'd be throwing out one-liners while performing surgeries."

John laughed at that, nodding in agreement. "She'd probably give the scalpel a nickname, like she did with her gun." His eyes sparkled with amusement as he shot her a sideways glance. "Dr. Sarcasm, paging Dr. Sarcasm."

Charlotte rolled her eyes again, but there was warmth behind it now, a genuine fondness for their antics. "You guys are the worst," she muttered, though the smile tugging at her lips told a different story. "And for the record, not naming your gun is just wrong."

Jackson immediately grinned. It was the kind of grin that always meant trouble, and Charlotte braced herself for whatever was about to come next. "You named yours after a Taylor Swift song," he said, his voice taking on that sing-song tone of someone who's been waiting for the perfect moment to bring up something embarrassing.

"Betty is a great song!" she whined, her tone defensive as her cheeks flushed slightly. Her arms crossed over her chest in a way that was half-serious, half-joking, her eyes narrowing at Jackson as if daring him to disagree.

John was quick to jump in, his own laughter bubbling up again. "A Taylor Swift song, huh? Should we expect a whole album of weapons? You've got Betty... what's next? Bad Blood?" He chuckled, shaking his head, the look on his face nothing short of pure amusement.

Charlotte rolled her eyes again, though she couldn't stop the grin from spreading. "You know, just because you guys have no taste in music doesn't mean I don't know how to name a damn gun," she shot back, feigning indignation.

"Besides," she added, her voice dropping to a playful whisper, "Betty's got a way of handling things when it matters. She's reliable."

Jackson, still grinning from ear to ear, raised his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, I'm not arguing with that. I just... didn't expect Taylor Swift to make the cut."

"Shows what you know," she quipped, sitting up a little straighter, her hands now playing with the edge of the blanket draped over her lap. The texture was rough, but it kept her hands busy, a distraction from the lingering soreness in her chest. She hadn't been awake long, but she already felt the exhaustion settling back in, creeping in like a fog at the edges of her consciousness.

John shifted closer, his expression softening, though the playful light in his eyes remained. "You'll have to teach us your naming rituals someday. Maybe I'll name mine after a Springsteen song or something," he said with a shrug, though his tone was lighter than his usual gruff demeanor. "How about Born to Run for my patrol car?"

Charlotte chuckled, shaking her head. "See, now you're getting it," she teased, though her voice softened as she glanced over at the bear Jackson had brought in earlier. It sat on the chair next to her bed, looking absurdly oversized, its beady eyes staring blankly into space.

"At least Betty is better company than this guy," she said with a smirk, nodding toward the stuffed animal.

Jackson raised an eyebrow, his grin faltering only slightly. "Hey, don't hate on the bear. He's been through a lot to get here."

She couldn't help but feel grateful, even if the weariness still clung to her like a second skin. They had a way of making everything feel a little lighter, even when the weight of the day threatened to pull her under.

But beneath the jokes and lighthearted banter, there was still that lingering absence. She hadn't said anything about Tim, not yet. She wasn't sure she could, not when she didn't even understand what was happening between them. The kiss, the way he left, the silence that had stretched on for what felt like forever—it all hung in the air, unspoken.

The boys were here, trying to keep her spirits up, but Tim... Tim was somewhere else. Somewhere she couldn't reach him. And that, more than anything, was what weighed on her the most.

She glanced over at the oversized teddy bear Jackson had brought, its ridiculous size still making her smile despite everything. "Well," she said, forcing herself to sit up a little straighter, "at least I've got this guy to keep me company if I decide to take up residency here."

John snickered, shaking his head. "You're never living this down, you know that, right?"

Charlotte sighed dramatically, leaning back against the pillows. "Oh, I know. Believe me, I know."

And just like that, they were laughing again, the heaviness momentarily lifted. The hospital room was still sterile, still cold, but for a little while, it felt warmer, filled with the sound of friends who cared—who reminded her that she wasn't alone, even when it felt like she was.

The words slipped out of her mouth before she could even think to stop them. "I kissed Tim."

The room fell silent for a split second, the kind of silence that felt heavy, almost suffocating. And then Jackson's voice exploded into the quiet.

"What!" he nearly screamed, his eyes going wide with shock. He leaned in closer, his curiosity getting the better of him, his sudden movement making the bed creak beneath him. His face was a mixture of surprise and excitement, like he'd just heard the most unexpected plot twist of the year.

John, always the one to keep his cool, shot Jackson a look and smacked his shoulder, hard enough to make him wince. "Dude, calm down," John muttered through clenched teeth. "You're making her feel bad!"

But his own curiosity betrayed him as he moved to sit down on the other side of the bed, mirroring Jackson's eager posture. He blinked at Charlotte, eyes wide with intrigue. "But seriously," he added, more gently this time, "you gotta explain."

Charlotte bit her lip, her gaze flickering between the two of them as she tried to find the words. Her heart was still racing, her stomach tied in knots. The memory of the kiss was fresh—too fresh—and it brought a wave of emotions that crashed over her, leaving her breathless.

She looked down at her hands, fidgeting with the blanket again, her fingers twisting the fabric as if it might help her sort through the whirlwind inside her head.

"I..." she started, her voice soft and hesitant, "I kissed Tim. Just a couple of hours ago."

Both of the guys leaned in, hanging on her every word. The fluorescent lights above seemed to buzz louder in the tense quiet of the hospital room, the faint scent of antiseptic still lingering in the air.

"And?" Jackson asked, almost breathless with anticipation.

Charlotte exhaled slowly, the weight of it all pressing down on her. "And he kissed me back," she confessed, her voice almost breaking on the words. "It... dammit, it was magical."

She let the word hang in the air, the memory of the kiss flooding her senses. She could still feel the warmth of Tim's lips against hers, the way he had pulled her closer, the way everything else had faded away in that moment. It was everything she hadn't expected but had secretly wanted for so long.

John raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued, but Jackson just stared at her, wide-eyed, like he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"But then," Charlotte continued, her voice dipping into something more bitter, "he got a call. He kissed my forehead and left." She could feel the weight of her frustration building again, the confusion and hurt all mixing together into something that made her chest ache.

"He promised to come back but..." Her voice trailed off, and she frowned, her fingers still twisting the blanket between her hands. "He still hasn't. I think... I think I scared him off."

The room fell into an uncomfortable quiet after that, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead like an annoying reminder of the stillness between them. Charlotte kept her eyes down, avoiding their gazes, feeling like she had just opened a wound she wasn't sure she was ready to deal with.

Jackson shifted uncomfortably, glancing at John for some kind of support, but John just sat there, his mouth pressed into a thin line. Their earlier excitement had vanished, replaced by something heavier. Something like guilt.

Charlotte sensed it immediately, the subtle shift in the room, the way their postures changed, the way their eyes dropped from hers. Her heart pounded faster, her chest tightening with a new wave of anxiety.

"What?" she asked, her voice sharp, her eyes narrowing at the two of them. "What aren't you telling me?"

Jackson looked down at his hands, guilt written all over his face. He hesitated for a moment, as if he wasn't sure how to say what needed to be said. Finally, after a long, uncomfortable pause, he spoke, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"They... they found Isabel. A few hours ago."

The words hit her like a punch to the gut, knocking the air from her lungs. Charlotte's mind reeled, the room spinning for a brief, dizzying moment. Isabel.

She swallowed hard, trying to keep her voice steady, but it wavered as she asked, "Found her? What do you mean, found her?"

John and Jackson exchanged a look, one filled with a mixture of regret and sympathy, but it was John who spoke up this time, his voice low and somber. "She was in bad shape, Char. Tim's been at the hospital with her since they found her."

Charlotte felt like the ground had just been pulled out from under her. The kiss, the promises, the way Tim had made her feel like everything was finally falling into place—it all shattered in an instant. She could see it now, the reason why Tim hadn't come back, the reason why he'd left so abruptly after the kiss.

Isabel.

Of course it was Isabel.

Her chest tightened painfully, the weight of it all crashing down on her at once. She pressed her lips together, trying to hold back the surge of emotions threatening to overwhelm her, but it was too late. Tears stung at the corners of her eyes, blurring her vision as she blinked furiously, trying to keep them at bay.

Jackson reached out, his hand resting gently on Charlotte's arm, a small gesture of solidarity that spoke volumes in the heavy silence of the hospital room. "I'm sorry, Char," he murmured, his voice soft and sincere, a quiet anchor amidst the storm of her swirling emotions.

"No, no, don't be," she replied, her voice trembling slightly as she tried to regain her composure. The warmth of his hand felt comforting, yet it only reminded her of the fragile state she was in.

"I don't even know why I'm crying. It was just a kiss..." Her words hung in the air, almost a question, as if she were trying to convince herself.

"It's not like we were gonna become anything. He's my T.O; it's... it's not exactly allowed." She sniffled, her eyes darting around the sterile room, the clinical scent of antiseptic mingling with the faint smell of flowers from a vase tucked in the corner. It was just a kiss, she told herself again and again, but her heart felt heavier with every breath.

John and Jackson exchanged glances, the concern etched on their faces mingling with an undercurrent of determination to lift her spirits. "Maybe he was called for backup?" Jackson ventured, his tone slightly brighter, as if hoping to pull her out of the pit of despair. "I mean—are they even together still? They must be divorced, right?"

"Um—yeah, I mean, she was gone for like a year? Doesn't that count as divorce?" John chimed in, his voice tentative as he glanced at Charlotte, searching her expression for any sign of hope.

But as he spoke, Jackson shot him a look that practically screamed, What the hell was that? John shrugged, a hint of a sheepish grin creeping onto his face, cringing at the awkwardness of the moment.

Charlotte let out a soft chuckle, the irony of it all bubbling to the surface despite the heaviness in her heart. "This is so stupid," she said, shaking her head as she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "I knew he was still in love with her." The realization hit her hard, like a sudden gust of wind that knocked the breath from her lungs.

"It was obvious how worked up he was about her getting arrested." Her voice was laced with bitterness, each word dripping with the sting of unfulfilled expectations and the reality she had been unwilling to acknowledge.

Charlotte looked down at her hands, her fingers still twisting the blanket, the fabric crumpling under the pressure of her grip. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, the cool air filling her lungs feeling oddly comforting.

But the flutter of hope she had felt earlier was quickly overshadowed by the reality of the situation. Tim had kissed her back, and for that brief moment, everything had felt right, but now it felt as if that moment was just a cruel joke.

Jackson, noticing her silence, shifted slightly closer, his brow furrowed in concern. "Hey, Char, we're here for you. Whatever happens, you're not alone in this." His sincerity was palpable, and she could see the determination in his eyes, a promise that they would face whatever came next together.

Charlotte finally looked up, meeting their gazes, and for a fleeting moment, she felt a flicker of warmth within the ice-cold grip of her despair. The connection between them, the shared history and camaraderie, reminded her that she wasn't entirely alone. Even if Tim was somewhere else, dealing with his past, she still had her friends—people who cared, who would stand by her side, no matter what.

"Thanks, guys," she said, her voice steadier now, a small smile creeping onto her lips, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. It was a fragile smile, but it was there. "I guess I just need to figure out where I stand in all of this. I can't let it break me." The determination in her tone surprised even her, but deep down, she knew she had to find a way to move forward, to reclaim her strength amidst the uncertainty.

The hospital room remained filled with the muted sounds of beeping machines and distant conversations, a stark reminder of the reality surrounding them. But as the three of them sat there, the bond they shared felt stronger than the weight of the world pressing down on her.

Together, they would navigate the chaos, one moment at a time.

𝐴𝑆 𝐶𝐻𝐴𝑅𝐿𝑂𝑇𝑇𝐸 stepped into the briefing room, the air buzzed with energy, the hum of camaraderie palpable as her fellow rookies erupted into a round of applause. The sound enveloped her, filling the space with warmth, and she felt her cheeks flush as she smiled shyly, her heart swelling with gratitude.

The walls were lined with bright whiteboards scrawled with notes and updates, the smell of stale coffee lingering in the air, mixing with the faint scent of disinfectant that was all too familiar in the precinct.

She took a seat among her friends, their faces radiating support and excitement. Yet, as her gaze drifted around the room, seeking out Tim, her heart sank. When she finally spotted him across the room, an unsettling wave of regret washed over her for even looking.

He wasn't clapping for her; in fact, he didn't even glance her way, his indifference a sharp contrast to the jubilant atmosphere surrounding her.

The moment felt like a cold slap, a reminder of the gap that had formed between them. Despite the chatter and the celebration, her mind spiraled into a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. She barely registered Grey's welcoming words, his voice a distant echo, lost amidst her swirling thoughts.

The weight of disappointment pressed down on her, almost suffocating, as she tried to focus on the meeting. But the information Grey relayed was short and succinct, and it washed over her like water off a duck's back; not a single word stuck as her mind replayed the moment they had shared.

As the meeting concluded and her colleagues began to disperse, heading off to their respective duties, Charlotte remained seated, lost in thought. Suddenly, Grey's voice cut through her haze, drawing her attention back to the present.

"Von Liljah, you'll be riding with Nyla from now on," he said, his tone matter-of-fact as he nodded towards the door where a woman stood, arms crossed and tapping her foot impatiently.

Surprised, Charlotte looked up, her heart skipping a beat. "Officer Harper?" she asked, her brow furrowing in confusion. She hadn't expected to be partnered with Nyla.

"Tim's assigned to Nolan instead. He requested a switch-up," Grey explained, his expression serious yet sympathetic. The words felt like a punch to the gut, sending a fresh wave of disappointment crashing over her.

Oh.

"Oh," Charlotte murmured, the simple response laden with unspoken feelings. It seemed as though the universe was aligning against her, pushing her further from Tim when all she wanted was to bridge the gap.

"She doesn't like to wait, Von Liljah." Grey raised an eyebrow, nodding toward Nyla, who was still waiting at the door, her impatience palpable. Charlotte could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and frustration bubbling just beneath the surface.

"Sorry, sir," she replied softly, pulling herself together as she turned to walk towards her new T.O. Each step felt heavy, the wooden floor beneath her echoing her uncertainty.

"I'm Char—" she began, her voice barely above a whisper as she tried to introduce herself, hoping to find a semblance of connection.

"Trust me, I know who you are," Nyla scoffed, not breaking her stride as she strode down the corridor, her attitude sharp and dismissive. Charlotte furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, a mixture of surprise and irritation stirring within her as she hurried to catch up.

The hallway stretched ahead of them, brightly lit with fluorescent lights that buzzed softly overhead. The walls, adorned with framed photographs of past officers, felt both welcoming and intimidating.

The atmosphere was charged, each step echoing Charlotte's inner turmoil—was this how her new journey was going to begin? With an abrasive T.O. and a heart still tangled in unresolved feelings for Tim?

After loading the last of the equipment, she moved to the passenger side of the car, her heart pounding as she prepared for what lay ahead. The interior smelled faintly of leather and the remnants of a strong coffee, a stark contrast to the anxiety brewing inside her.

She took a deep breath, attempting to steady herself, and turned to her new T.O, Nyla Harper, who stood beside the driver's side with an air of detachment that sent a chill down Charlotte's spine.

"Aren't girls supposed to look out for each other in this male-dominated job?" Charlotte ventured, trying to bridge the growing chasm between them. Her voice was light, but beneath it lay an undercurrent of frustration, as if she were grasping for some semblance of solidarity amidst the cold reality of their situation.

Nyla's lips curled into a scoff, her posture stiffening as she met Charlotte's gaze. "I can't exactly have your back if you make a stupid decision like risking your reputation and job to get it on with your T.O. That's your call. I only care if it impacts your performance." Her words were sharp, cutting through the air like a knife, leaving Charlotte feeling exposed and vulnerable.

Charlotte frowned, her brow furrowing in disbelief. How could she be so shallow?

"Tim told you?" The question slipped out before she could stop it, her voice tinged with hurt and indignation. The thought of Tim discussing her personal life, and the kiss they had shared, made her stomach twist uncomfortably.

"Yeah. It's spread around." Nyla's response was low, almost a whisper, but it carried a weight that made Charlotte's heart sink further. "You're making all the actually hardworking girls in this station look bad."

The words hung in the air, heavy with judgment. Charlotte felt a rush of heat flood her cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and anger flaring within her. The morning sun now felt harsh and unyielding, as if it too were bearing down on her, amplifying the discomfort of the moment.

In that instant, Charlotte's mind raced with conflicting emotions. She had always thought that being a woman in law enforcement meant having allies, a sisterhood that could help navigate the treacherous waters of a male-dominated field.

Yet here she stood, feeling as if she was under a spotlight, exposed and criticized by the very person who should have been supporting her. The air between them crackled with tension, and she could almost taste the bitterness in the atmosphere.

With a shaky breath, Charlotte tried to steady herself. "I didn't mean for it to happen," she replied, lying, her voice barely above a whisper.

"It was just a kiss... it didn't mean anything." But as the words left her mouth, she realized how hollow they sounded.

The truth was, it had meant everything to her.

Nyla's expression softened for a brief moment, but the edge quickly returned as she replied, "Just remember, your actions have consequences. Don't let it derail your career before it even starts." With that, she turned away, sliding into the driver's seat with an air of finality that left Charlotte standing there, feeling like a ship adrift without a sail.

The door clicked shut, and the sound reverberated in the silence. As Nyla started the engine, the rumble filled the space around them, drowning out the buzzing of Charlotte's thoughts.

She glanced out the window, watching the world outside blur into motion, the streets bustling with the morning rush. The vibrant life beyond felt so disconnected from her own internal chaos.

Taking a moment to collect herself, Charlotte leaned back in her seat, letting the car's vibrations ground her. She knew she had to prove herself, to shake off the stigma and regain her footing.

Today marked a new chapter, and though the road ahead seemed daunting, she was determined to navigate it. Even if she had to do it alone, she would show them all—herself included—that she was more than just a rumour.

WHAAAAAT is going on?!

hehehe i know whats going to happen next and you don't !!

please feel free to engage with the story !!
– comment, like, & interact. your participation keeps me motivated! thank you!!

❪ 𝖚𝖑𝖙𝖗𝖆 𝖛𝖎𝖔𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊 ❫ ˖ ׁ ⁩ 𓂃
𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚁𝙾𝙾𝙺𝙸𝙴  ⸻  ✧˖°.ᐟ
❝ 26.10.24 ❞