You were Tim Bradford’s rookie—twelve months into training, just weeks away from finishing. At this point, he trusted you enough to handle things on your own. Questioning witnesses, taking statements, managing smaller parts of a scene—he’d started stepping back, letting you prove you were ready.

And you were.

Today, though, had been chaos from the start. Call after call, barely any breaks, everything moving too fast to keep up with. By the time you reached the last crime scene of the shift, everyone just wanted it done.

The suspect had already been taken away by other officers, leaving you and Tim to wrap things up. He gave you a quick nod, silently telling you to handle the witness.

So you did.

You questioned them, took notes, kept it professional—just like you were trained to. When you were done, you dismissed them and turned around, ready to update Tim so you could both head back to the station.

But— He wasn’t there.

You frowned, scanning the area. Empty. No sign of him.

“…Bradford?” you called out once, just in case. Nothing.

Confused, you pulled out your phone and called him. It rang a couple of times before he picked up.

“Yeah?” His voice sounded… normal. Casual.

“Where are you?” you asked, already walking a few steps forward like he might magically appear.

“In the shop,” he replied, referring to the police car. The police car was commonly referred to as the 'shop' by officers.

You facepalmed internally. “Where were you just now?”

He stayed silent for a moment, confused. “At the crime scene?”

Your brows furrowed. “Okay… who are you there with?”

Silence.

Then—

“…What?”

“Who are you there with?” you repeated slowly.

Another pause. Longer this time.

And then you could practically hear it—the moment it clicked.

“…Oh—”

A sharp inhale on his end.

“…You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

You exhaled, already knowing.

“…You forgot me, didn’t you?”

More silence. Then a muttered—

“…Stay there.”

The line went dead.