S2 EP11 cont.

The officers found out that Rosalind had been communicating with Caleb through notes stuffed in contraband items smuggled to her. With the help of Wesley, they were able to get the name of the person running the contrabands into the prison.

Tim and Jackson pulled over a Jeep at the side of the road, trudging over to the vehicle without wasting another second.

The driver rolled down the window with a smirk. "Problem, Officer?"

Tim grabbed and slammed the driver's head into the steering wheel; Jackson was momentarily startled on the other side. "You listen to me very carefully. Your name is Benjamin Lassie. You're a mid-level idiot who controls every illicit item that enters the Central California Women's Facility. And today is your day of reckoning," Tim warned. "Now, I am responsible for a life that is in jeopardy, and I will do whatever I have to save her, do you understand?"

Benjamin gave him a weak nod.

"There's a man who gives you items to smuggle onto death row for Rosalind Dyer," Tim resumed, "You are gonna give me that man."

"Why would I do that?" Benjamin snarled back.

Tim grabbed the driver's hair tighter, causing the man to wince in pain. "Because if you don't, I will pull you inside out."

Jackson was both stunned and in awe of the effectiveness.

➤➤➤

The piercing pain around Ollie's wrists meant nothing when she finally managed to break free of the zip ties. The first thing she did was tear off the camera pointing at her face with much force, much effort.

She banged against the lid again, trying to scream for help. Trying to scream for anyone. Almost every name of the people she knew came up in her desperate cries.

Please. Just— anyone.

The air inside the barrel was getting stuffy as her struggles died off once again in despair.

She was heaving, but no tears came out.

She was too dehydrated for tears, at this point.

Try to stay calm, Ollie. Buy them more time...

A part of her tried to stay logical, tried to pull her out of fear.

But fear was the only thing still making her feel alive now.

...where are they?

➤➤➤

Wesley perked up when he saw Angela again, walking into the station along with Grey.

"You okay?" he asked, concern laced his voice.

"No," Angela answered truthfully in a beat, then turned her attention to the piles of police files scattered on the desk. "What have you been doing?"

"Combing through Rosalind's biographical data," Wesley replied, looking at both officers. "Look, I figured that Caleb must be pretty obsessed with her if he's going through with all this, so maybe he's keeping Ollie somewhere that connects to her."

Angela and Grey shared a look of realisation, the latter nodding impressively at the lawyer before departing from the group urgently. Angela smiled gratefully at him before hurrying after her watch commander.

Wesley exhaled sharply.

➤➤➤

Jackson found Grey, Lopez, Wesley, Lucy and Avery in the briefing room, nose-deep in heaps of police files. Tim followed closely behind him, holding a folder that contained credit card statements that Caleb used in yet another stolen identity's name.

"Hey, hey, we got something. Caleb used Jerry's identity to rent a post office box in Kern County, near the prison," Tim notified at once. "But he kept it up after he quit. Still pays for it. He must have a place close by."

"Hold on." Avery frowned, flipping through a stack of files hurriedly, finally pulling out one that clung to his mind. "Here. Rosalind's family— her trust owns a farm in Kern County."

Tim seized the folder from him, tilting it to give Jackson a look as well; the rookie swallowed uneasily. "Ollie's there."

➤➤➤

Ollie tried hard to regulate her breathing; the air was thinning.

John and Harper raced towards the house in their patrol car, the T.O. slamming on the gas pedal.

Grey, Lopez, Jackson, Tim, Avery and Lucy boarded two helicopters from the station, each of them increasingly anxious as every minute ticked by.

Jackson mounted into the helicopter before Tim. The latter swore out when the door failed to shut on the first try, slamming it harder again on his second attempt.

Jackson eyed Lopez at Tim's agitation, but she merely shook her head back at her rookie. "Sir... Ollie is a fighter, she's a... she's a survivor," the rookie spoke up. "I know she will find a way to buy us time."

"I know that, too," Tim snapped, putting on his headset. "We better pray that it's enough."

➤➤➤

Harper turned off the car's lights and sirens as they approached the house in the middle of a hill.

"LAPD unit on site," John stated through his radio as his T.O. took out a sniper rifle from the back of their patrol car. "We cannot wait for SWAT. We're going in."

They advanced towards the house cautiously, stepping over the tripwire in place.

John headed up the porch, peeking through a window by the front door. He noticed two men in a room: Caleb and Armstrong. The detective had been forced to sit on a couch while the other man held up a phone in front of him.

He gave Harper a signal, and she proceeded to the side of the house, positioning herself behind the window closest to the people in the house. With another signal of confirmation, John motioned to kick open the front door, breaching the house.

"LAPD! Drop that gun!"

Caleb spun on his feet, already lifting his gun towards the source of the sound.

A bullet shattered the window of the room, lodging right into the man's abdomen.

"No! Damn it! No!"

Caleb collapsed immediately.

John lowered his gun when Armstrong sank to the man on the floor, still cursing frantically.

"He's the only one who knows where Ollie is!"

➤➤➤

Caleb had bled out. He was dead.

The three cops sprinted out of the house as the other six finally arrived, along with many other officers and deputies approaching the area.

"Caleb is dead. Ollie's buried somewhere on the property. We got to find her," John shouted out curtly, showing them the slanted live feed through the phone.

With the camera pulled off the lid, the feed now only showed a partial of Ollie's face.

And she was not looking great.

"Can't see if she's still breathing," Lopez remarked with furrowed brows, passing the phone next to Grey before Tim could snatch it from her.

"Spread out!" Grey yelled out to all the cops in the area before uttering into his radio, "Airship, we have an officer buried alive. Looking for the site."

"He wouldn't have buried her close to the house," Lucy panted out, eyeing the three other officers.

"Yeah," Avery agreed. "We'll take north. Then split up."

Tim nodded, already motioning for Jackson to follow. "Come on."

➤

"Let's split up. You go left, alright?" Tim told Jackson as they continued searching for Ollie's burial site on foot.

The sun was scorching, and the acres of rugged terrain just posed too many possible sites where Caleb could have buried their officer.

Tim headed up yet another hill, panting in the heat, but restless as ever.

A twinkle. A glow. A shimmer.

He picked up the piece of jewellery just a few steps away from him.

—

"The one on the right. Subtle, but nice."

"Are you just choosing it because you like it?"

"Maybe."

—

He recognised it at once.

Tim frantically kicked around the dry earth, sending pebbles and granules around— until he heard a loud clang under his feet.

"I've got her!" he hollered out at once, "I've got her!"

One after another, the officers rushed towards Tim, who was already beginning to dig up the ground with his bare hands. Some picked up shovels, while the others dropped onto the ground on their knees, clawing up the dirt around the barrel.

"Right here!"
"Come on!"
"Here she is!"
"Here, help me."
"Is she—?"

Their combined effort and desperation allowed the lid to be pulled off the barrel quickly after.

Ollie was barely breathing when the heat pierced her skin, once again.

Arms were around her, pulling her up and out of the barrel, out of the enclosed space, out of the nightmare.

Her consciousness was drifting in and out.

"Step away, step away, step away— give her some room!" she registered Avery's voice.

She was lowered onto the ground. Someone was checking for her breathing. Chest compressions. CPR.

Am I dying? But they've already found me.

They found me.

When Ollie finally drew in a sharp, stinging, painful breath, the first face she met with eased her at last.

The officers surrounding them all caught their breath in relief.

Her bloodied and blistered hands gripped the hem of his uniform tightly as all her emotions came crashing in soon after.

"Hey, hey. You're okay, you're okay," Tim tried soothing her as he held her trembling figure tight in his arms. "We got you, Ollie, we got you..."

➤➤➤

Ollie's eyes fluttered open gently, and for once in her life, she was glad to see the bland, white hospital walls.

Waking up from what felt like a long, deserved sleep, she turned her head feebly to the side and was glad to see a familiar face. "Hey."

Tim moved towards the bed at her voice. "Hey."

"Is it safe to say that I'm your most unfortunate rookie?"

"By far," Tim assured with a light chuckle, glad to hear the joke in her voice again. "But also my toughest one," he added, "By far."

Ollie hummed in response, trying to sit up on the bed but felt her body still sore and aching. Ultimately, she let herself sink back onto the mattress. "How long have I been out?"

He nodded his head to the side, gesturing at the small table in the corner of the room. "Each cup represents an hour."

"Cute." Ollie smiled faintly at the stacked Jell-O, counting twelve. There was also one eaten. "Have you really been here the whole night?"

Tim shrugged. "Someone once told me that waking up to an empty hospital room is depressing."

"Hm... That someone sounds very wise."

The door to the room swung open, and Ollie snapped her head to her front intently. It was Dr Sawyer.

"Hey, glad to see that you're awake!" Grace beamed.

"Hey, Doc," Ollie responded weakly. "How long do I have to be here?"

"Probably until tomorrow," Grace answered. "We need to get you rehydrated, make sure nothing unexpected pops up. You know, you're very lucky."

"Right," Ollie sighed; 'lucky' was not exactly the word she would associate herself with. She turned away from the doctor and back to the other person in the room. "So, do tell. How did you guys find me?"

"Uh, that was my genius policing skills," John announced as he walked into the room together with Lucy with a huge stuffed toy that tried to hide behind their backs; Ollie grinned at the sight of them. "That's just what people are saying, anyway."

"We brought you something," Lucy chimed in, lifting the pink stuffed bear that was about as big as she was, setting it down by Ollie's legs. "It was the biggest one I could find."

The woman on the bed broke into a laugh. "Hell's sake, it better be."

"I can vouch that it is. They had to force the poor employee to carry it out from the back," Jackson joined in, carrying an arrangement of sweets in his arms. "I know you're not a fan of flowers, so I thought— chocolate bouquet?"

"It's perfect," Ollie beamed at him. "And this—" she leaned to reach for the stuffed toy, but Lucy had passed it directly into her arms, "—is going to sleep with me in my bed since I am clearly, clearly never going on a date again."

"I'm not sure that should be the takeaway," Grace voiced out next to them.

"Oh, hang on," John interjected, "Statistically, that's actually pretty safe."

The two other rookies nodded strongly in agreement; Tim shook his head at them.

Ollie let out a sigh, smiling at the room of care. "Alright. Anyone mind making a run for food?" she asked at last, finally managing to sit up on the bed while still squeezing the stuffed toy under her arm. "I'm actually starving. And right now, I would really, really kill for a—"

"Cheeseburger," Tim announced, producing two paper bags, "with no tomatoes or pickles. And the cheesy fries from your favourite spot— two servings."

Ollie turned to him with a soft gasp, taking the bags from him gratefully. "I fear you may know me too well."

Tim smiled. "Absolutely."

➤➤➤

It was so easy to fall into slumber, again, after the hours of fighting for her life in desperation.

Ollie barely heard the squeak of the door in her sleep.

But she definitely realised her sudden inability to move.

Her eyes managed to flicker open, though.

"Um... What's going on?" her voice croaked out faintly, hoarsely. She needed much effort to even furrow her brows at the cop she recognised that had been stationed outside her hospital room.

But she did not recognise the cop.

Ollie remained confused. She then noticed that the blinds were all shut in the room, and she guessed the shut door was also locked, as well. The cop did not respond to her, but instead calmly strode over to her bedside while pulling out a syringe from a pocket.

"What are you... d-doing?"

The mystery person held up her IV line and removed the cap of the needle and poked it into her line.

A moment of panic washed over her— but I cannot move!

"What did you... do to me?"

"Just a simple paralytic drug. My own recipe," the person enlightened. "Now, I assume you know what air bubbles in your IV line would do to you?"

Ollie tried nodding, but she still could not move a muscle. "Yes," she rasped out instead.

"Good. Then consider this your final warning, Officer Marshall." The person stayed at her spot; her voice was furiously calm and collected. "You've been bold. Attacking us big time. Twice, even," the voice stated. "I get it, you're a cop, it's your job. But that stops now."

"I r-really don't know what you... what you're talking about."

"The lab under the pet store," the person filled in, "The guy you put away? Davis? He told us all about you and your heroics. We would've let you go once — we have no intentions of getting on the police's wrong side, after all — but it's a shame that you striked us another time. The boss is very much unhappy about you."

The gears in Ollie's head churned. She had been a part of quite a number of drug busts in the past months as a rookie officer, but taking the lead on a bust? She could only recall two: the pet store, and—

"The pizza place."

"You're as smart as you look after all, Officer."

She vaguely remembered Ghost Head's warning. But at that time, she had dismissed it as a threat just to other dealers, not her—

"Who t-the fuck even a-are you?"

The figure remained motionless, still holding the syringe steadily. "Someone who, to your luck, is more forgiving than my boss," she simply responded. "But tamper with our business again, and you'll die a more tragic death than the barrel, Olivia. Understood?"

Sweat was beading on her forehead now; her lack of control over her movements was eating her from within. "Y-Yeah."

"Good. I'm looking forward to never meeting again."

The person retracted the needle from her IV line and pocketed it again. After unshutting the blinds and opening the door, the mystery cop was gone.

Ollie doubted that person was even a cop.

She was alarmingly awake throughout the whole hour before the paralytic drug wore off. The second she felt her ability to move her fingers again, she immediately picked up her phone to call a number.

➤➤➤

"Are you okay?"

Ollie had been picking on her skin anxiously after the call and finally exhaled shakily when Tim barged into the cold hospital room. "I'm okay, I— Oh, hi everyone—"

She blinked in surprise when eight other cops and one lawyer filled the room. Tim was still walking over to her when Jackson overtook him and sprung onto her. He did not care that his best friend objected to most forms of affection, but he hugged her tightly anyway.

"Oof— Jacks. That's too tight. Too tight."

As much as she tried wiggling herself free from the tight embrace, she failed to do so, especially after Lucy joined in from the other side.

She did soften in their embrace, though.

"The hospital's fine with all of you here after visiting hours?" Ollie asked when the two others finally let her free.

"We're cops," Harper shrugged, "Of course they're going to let us in."

"We were together when Tim received your call," Avery furrowed his brows. "What even happened?"

"Um," Ollie sat up straighter on the bed, "Someone dressed as one of us came in and, well, basically threatened me."

"Threatened you how?" Lucy asked in concern.

"For starters, she was holding a syringe of air in my IV," Ollie explained, eyeing her line briefly before turning to Grey. "I, uh, didn't recognise her face, or her voice. She was warning me to step back in attacking their business. Something about drugs. I might've hit too close to the heart of their business, I think."

"She?" Grey quirked a brow.

The rookie nodded jadedly. "And... she knew my name," she spoke again; the others merely nodded in acknowledgement.

Tim frowned, knowing that her words were directed to him.

"Well," Ollie cleared her throat again with a forced grin, "Sorry to cut short the party, but that's about all I can tell you about the second person who tried to kill me in two days."

The officers grimaced at her ill-timed humour. "Really not funny," Jackson dulled.

"Fine. But it's safe to say that I'm gonna be shaken up for a while," Ollie sighed in defeat. "Who knows if I'm ever going to feel safe again..."

Avery perked up, stepping forward for the crowd at the side of the room. "Oh, uh— you can come stay with me for a bit if you need to," he offered.

"Um, I mean no disrespect, sir, but I think two officers are better than one," Lucy opposed her T.O.

"Yeah. You can have my room," Jackson agreed.

"You two live in an apartment with not enough space," Tim deadpanned, rolling his eyes at the two rookies before turning to the younger T.O., "And you— you live in a one-bedroom apartment with two fish tanks."

Avery scoffed offendedly. "At least I have space."

"I live in a guest house of a mansion," John chipped in from the corner.

"Didn't someone break into your house and try to kill you once?" Lopez deadpanned.

"Oh. Right."

"I have space in my house if you want to come stay a while," Tim turned to Ollie at last, clearing his throat shortly. "Until, well, you're back healthy again."

Ollie stared at him, then peered over to the rest. "Is this the treatment I should be expecting to get from now on?"

"Definitely."
"Yes."
"Pretty much."

She smiled softly, shaking her head at their genuinely worried looks. "Look, I appreciate all the offers, but I really, really miss my bed and my cat, so..." she shrugged, "But I may take up on all your sleepover offers."

━━━━━

Me 🤝 Traumatising my OCs

I'll just say what you're all thinking: OLLIE TAKE UP TIM'S OFFER CMONNNNN 😩😩💢