you got somewhere you gotta be boot
Tim sat slumped against the far wall of the quarantine room, eyes fixed on the man lying lifeless just a few feet away. His body was still, his blood staining the floor beneath him, a stark reminder of how quickly this virus could take a life. Tim could feel the weight of it pressing down on his chest—he was next. He knew it. He could feel it in his bones, like the creeping cold that took over his body, the tightness in his throat, and the dizziness that made his vision blur.
The isolation was worse than the sickness. Worse than the fear of death. The silence between him and Lucy had stretched on for hours, each second a sharp edge, cutting deeper into his resolve. And yet, there she was, just outside the door, her presence like a shadow that loomed over him.
"You should've let me come inside," Lucy's voice was muffled, but it pierced through the barrier between them with such force that it almost knocked the wind from his lungs.
Tim glanced over at the door, his hands shaking as he tightened his grip around the gun. The sight of it was enough to send a cold shiver down his spine, but he couldn't let go of it—not yet. Not while the infection threatened to take him.
"You would've gotten infected," he said softly, his voice cracking as he spoke, each word seeming to weigh a ton. He closed his eyes, knowing she didn't understand, knowing she couldn't. It was easier for him to push her away, to try to protect her, than to face the fear that gnawed at him.
"I don’t care," she replied, her words like a plea. Tim could almost picture her, her hand pressed desperately against the door, her face contorted in pain from being so close yet so far away. "You think I’m just going to sit out here and wait for you to get sick? I’m not going to let you go through this alone. Tim, please—let me be there with you."
Her words hit him like a punch to the gut. He wanted nothing more than to have her beside him, to feel her warmth, to hear her voice without the distortion of distance. But he couldn’t let that happen. Not when the virus was closing in, claiming its victims, one by one.
A deep sigh rumbled from his chest, but it was filled with a sadness he couldn’t shake. His eyes fluttered shut as he leaned his head back against the wall. The nausea was getting worse now, and he knew it wasn’t just the virus. It was the fear that gripped his heart at the thought of losing her.
"You don’t get it, Lucy," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "If I catch this thing—if it gets to me—I don’t want you to be in here with me. You deserve to be safe."
She didn’t answer right away, but he could feel her presence, the weight of her emotions filling the space between them. And then, her voice broke through, raw and desperate, a sob catching in her throat.
"Tim, I—please tell me you're gonna be okay. I can’t—I can’t lose you."
Her words shattered him. He could hear the tears in her voice, each one cutting through the wall he’d built around himself. He wanted to tell her that it was all going to be okay, that everything would turn out fine, but he couldn’t bring himself to lie to her. Not when the truth was staring him in the face.
"You won’t," he whispered, a faint, bitter smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "At least not this way."
Lucy’s breath caught in her throat, a tremor running through her voice as she asked, "What’s that supposed to mean?"
Tim lowered his gaze to the gun in his hands, his fingers tracing the smooth metal. His grip tightened, but his mind was far away, lost in the fog of uncertainty. He didn’t want to die. Not like this. Not here, not now.
"I’m not going out like that man here," Tim said, his voice steady but tinged with the weight of unspoken fears. "If Tim Bradford goes out, it’s gonna be on his own terms."
"Tim, let me come in," Lucy said again, her voice more insistent, desperate even.
"No," Tim responded quickly, almost too quickly. His heart raced as the word left his lips, but he couldn’t let her in. Not with the virus threatening to tear him apart from the inside. "Stay out there. Listen to the doctors. You stay out there."
He could hear her sobbing, the sound breaking his heart all over again. He wanted to reach out, to comfort her, but the distance between them felt insurmountable.
"Lucy, I gotta tell you something," Tim said, his voice raw, his throat tight with the weight of the words. "I don’t think I’m making it out of here."
"NO—NO!" Lucy’s voice cracked, a sob ripping through the single syllable. "Don’t say that! Please, Tim, don’t say that!"
"What, you got someplace you gotta be, Boot?" Tim said with a weak attempt at sarcasm, trying to lighten the mood, but it was clear from his tone that the words had no real weight behind them. The fear, the uncertainty, was suffocating him. The reality was settling in, and he couldn’t escape it.
"Lucy, I can't not tell you this," Tim said, his voice firm, the desperation leaking through in every word. His chest tightened, not just from the sickness creeping closer but from the weight of everything he was about to say. There was a sense of urgency, a gravity to his words that left no room for hesitation. "Please, just listen to me. This—this is more important than anything right now."
Lucy’s breath hitched, and then, her voice cracked like glass. "More important than you dying?!" She shot back, her words sharp and filled with a raw pain that broke through the heavy silence. Tears streamed down her face, her emotions a hurricane of fear, love, and helplessness. She couldn't fathom what could be more important than this moment, the one where she was losing him.
Tim felt his heart crack at the sound of her voice, at the pain that flooded through every syllable she spoke. He hated this. He hated feeling like he was tearing her apart, but he couldn’t stop now. He needed her to understand, to hear him, even if it meant taking his last breath with the truth on his lips.
"Yes! Yes, Lucy!" Tim said, his voice rising in intensity, cracking with emotion. He pressed his palm to his chest, the pain growing, but it wasn’t just the virus. "This is way more important than my life. Please... don’t you see? You need to know how I feel before it’s too late."
The words hung in the air, too heavy, too fragile to fall. Lucy’s silence stretched on, her sobs muffled but present. Tim could hear her breathing, her chest rising and falling, her whole body trembling with the emotions she was fighting to keep in check.
Lucy’s hands pressed against the door harder now, as if she could will herself through it, as if she could feel the gravity of his words. "Tim, please… What are you saying?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, as if the moment had stolen her ability to breathe, to think.
He ran a shaky hand through his hair, trying to steady himself. His heart was pounding in his chest, the weight of his feelings threatening to drown him. This was it. There might not be another chance.
"I’m saying," Tim started, taking a deep breath to steady his voice, "that I love you. I love you, Lucy. I’ve loved you for so long, but I never said it. I never gave you the chance to know." His words rushed out in a torrent, like he was afraid he’d run out of time. "I’ve been terrified—terrified that I’d lose you before I could tell you. And now… now, it’s like I’m running out of time, and I can’t leave this world without you knowing that you mean everything to me."
The confession fell like a weight between them, a breathless silence filling the space. Tim’s chest heaved with emotion, his heart racing, the sickness overtaking him. But it didn't matter anymore. This, this was the most important thing he had to say.
Tim’s heart thudded painfully against his chest, the weight of his words still hanging heavy between them. But as much as he wanted to reach out and pull her closer, he knew that doing so could mean infecting her, could mean losing her too. His breath grew shallow, and his eyes flickered down to the gun in his hands, the one he had subconsciously gripped for too long.
"Go with the doctors. You don’t need to be here right now," Tim said, his voice rough, strained with the effort to remain calm. The words didn’t come easily. His heart screamed for her to stay, for her to be by his side, but his rational mind was fighting against that selfish urge.
Lucy’s hands fell away from the door, and she shook her head violently. Her voice cracked with raw emotion as she responded, "I’m not leaving you!" Her tears flowed freely now, her sobs muffled through the door. "Tim, I can’t—" she choked on her words, unable to finish. She couldn’t imagine leaving him in this state, couldn’t imagine the possibility of walking away when he needed her the most.
"Lucy," Tim said, his voice hardening, a harshness that even surprised him. He didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to push her away. But he had to. For her. For both of them. "Get out of this house right now. Boot. That’s a direct order."
The words sliced through the air like a knife, and Lucy recoiled as if struck. The door between them felt like an insurmountable wall now, one that Tim had built in his desperation to protect her. But the sound of his voice, the authority behind it, hit Lucy like a punch to the gut.
"No," she whispered, her voice barely audible through the door. "You’re not making me leave you. Not like this."
Her heart ached with the overwhelming need to be close to him, to fight for his safety, for them. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—accept the reality of losing him. Not when he was so close, not when everything had just shifted between them. She had to believe that they still had time, even if it was only a few moments.
Tim’s head sank back against the wall, his hand gripping the edge of the cot as if it could steady his entire world. His throat tightened, and his vision blurred for a moment. "Lucy, please," he pleaded, his voice barely a whisper now, the pain evident. "I can’t lose you. Please, just go… get out of here."
She didn’t answer right away. Her breath was shaky, ragged, as she pressed her palm to the door once more. The heat of her hand against the cold wood sent a wave of longing through her, the feeling of being so close, yet so far. She had never felt so helpless.
But then, her voice broke through the silence. "Tim, I can’t… I can’t lose you."
The words broke him. He wanted to tell her everything would be okay, wanted to promise her that they would make it out of this, together. But all he could do was stare at the door separating them, the knowledge that there was nothing else he could do.
"Lucy," Tim whispered, his eyes closing. "If it’s my time… I want you to remember that I love you. Don’t forget that."
Her heart stopped for a moment, the finality in his words sinking in. But she couldn’t let him think that this—this—was how it was going to end. She refused.
"I won’t let you go, Tim," she said firmly, her voice full of determination. "We’ll fight through this together. Together."
Tim exhaled, the weight of the sickness pressing in on him, but somehow, Lucy’s words steadied him for just a moment longer. Maybe they couldn’t change what was happening, maybe they didn’t have more time than the ticking clock in his chest, but in that moment, they had each other. And for now, that was enough.
"Go," Tim repeated, his voice hoarse but resolute. "You can’t be here in case..." He sighed, pressing a hand against his forehead as if trying to hold himself together. "*In case* I don’t make it. You can’t come back from seeing that. From even hearing that kind of thing." His throat tightened, and his next words came out rough. "I told you to go, so go."
Lucy hesitated, her body screaming at her to stay, to refuse, to fight against the reality pressing down on them. But as much as she wanted to argue, to tell him she *would* stay no matter what, the raw pain in his voice made her falter.
She took a shaky breath, forcing herself to stand, even as her legs felt weak beneath her. "Tim, I have something I have to tell you too, but..." She swallowed hard, her voice trembling. "But it has to be after you make it out of here. You’re going to make it. You have to. You—"
"Go, Lucy!" Tim yelled, his voice cracking with desperation.
She flinched at the sheer force of it, her breath hitching in her throat. His words weren’t just an order anymore. They were a plea. A last-ditch effort to save her from something he didn’t think he could be saved from himself.
Tears blurred her vision, but she nodded, even though he couldn’t see it. Even though she didn’t want to. Even though it felt like walking away was the hardest thing she had ever done.
"I'll be back," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart. "You have to be here when I come back."
And with that, she turned, forcing herself to move, forcing herself to leave the person she loved behind.
Because if she didn’t, she would never be able to let go.
Tim barely had time to react before Lucy crashed into him, her arms wrapping tightly around his body, her weight knocking the air from his lungs. For a moment, he was too stunned to process what was happening. Hours ago, he had been ready to accept that this was it—that he might not make it. But now, the vaccine had arrived, the nightmare was over, and Lucy—Lucy was here, clinging to him like she’d never let go.
And then her words hit him, tumbling out in rapid, breathless desperation. "I love you too, I love you too, I love you too, I love you too."
His entire body locked up. His arms, which had instinctively caught her, tightened around her shoulders, his fingers gripping the fabric of her shirt as if she might slip away if he let go. His heart, already strained from everything that had happened, pounded wildly against his ribs. He had never seen her like this before—never felt her like this before.
Lucy pulled back just enough to look at him, her hands cradling his face, her fingers trembling against his skin. Her eyes were red and glassy, her breath shaky, but her expression was raw, open, real.
"Say something," she begged, her voice barely above a whisper. "Please, say something."
Tim swallowed hard, his throat thick, his mind racing. He thought about how she had stayed outside that door for hours, refusing to leave. How she had fought him on every order to go. How she had cried, screamed, refused to accept the idea of losing him. And now, here she was, confessing something that changed everything.
Finally, he let out a shaky breath, his forehead pressing against hers as he closed his eyes for a brief moment. "Damn it, Lucy," he murmured, his voice rough. "You’re really bad at following orders."
A watery laugh escaped her, and she sniffled, still clinging to him. "Guess you’ll have to write me up for insubordination."
Tim smirked, shaking his head as he let out a breathless chuckle. His hands remained firm on her waist, steadying them both as the adrenaline still buzzed in his veins. He should be saying something rational, something logical—hell, maybe even something to defuse the moment. But logic had left the room the second she threw herself into his arms, the second she told him she loved him.
So instead, he tilted his head down, voice low and rough. "Or I could just do this."
Before Lucy could respond, before she could even think, Tim closed the distance, capturing her lips with his own.
The kiss was desperate, messy, fueled by everything they had left unsaid for so long. It was every fear, every moment of uncertainty, every near-miss, and every unspoken feeling crashing into one single moment. He wasn’t careful, he wasn’t calculated—he was just there, with her, pouring everything into this because God, they almost lost this chance.
Lucy responded instantly, her hands tangling into his shirt, clutching him like he might disappear if she let go. She was shaking—whether from exhaustion or emotion, she didn’t know—but she didn’t care. Because he was alive. Because he was here. Because they weren’t losing each other.
When they finally pulled away, both breathless, their foreheads rested against each other’s, the weight of what had just happened settling between them.
Tim exhaled, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "I’m probably gonna get in so much trouble for that."
Lucy let out a shaky laugh, her fingers still gripping his shirt. "You think I care? You think I’m letting you go now?"
His arms tightened around her just a little more. "Not a chance, Boot."