Chapter Text
John Nolan rarely thought about the night he woke up naked, hungover, in an unfamiliar bedroom, with the uneasy feeling that he’d made mistakes he couldn’t quite remember.
But now, as he put on his uniform and felt the fabric irritating his nipples in a strange way, the memory came back like an annoying blur.
He remembered going out drinking with Lucy, Jackson, Angela, Tim, and a few others.
Everyone overdid it. Everyone had been way too happy.
Him, even more.
The only clear memory from that early morning was a figure beside him — broad back, fair skin, and a dark blur near the shoulder, maybe a tattoo… or maybe just shadow. Nothing useful.
He’d woken up convinced he was late for work — ran home — only to realize he had the day off. Took a hangover pill, passed out again, and for weeks decided not to think about it.
Rookie mistake.
A hangover wasn’t an excuse to ignore an entire night.
“Great…” Nolan muttered, adjusting the shirt that kept itching. “Why did I switch detergent?”
The humiliating nap
“Nolan. Nolan, wake up.”
The voice sounded far away.
He was drowning in exhaustion.
“Just a few more minutes…”
“Want a pillow too, rookie?”
BANG!
The smack on the table jolted him awake.
He had fallen asleep during Sergeant Grey’s briefing.
Laughter.
A few looks of disapproval.
Pure humiliation.
“Glad to know your beauty sleep is more important than today’s instructions,” Grey said, dryly, with his usual sarcastic edge.
Nolan wanted to disappear.
“Maybe you’ll enjoy riding with Bradford today,” Grey added.
Nolan looked over just in time to see Tim raise an eyebrow and… wink, the kind of ‘this is going to be fun for me, not you’ expression.
He was done for.
Failed test on patrol — Tim being Tim
Later, Nolan stared out the patrol car window, tired and unfocused — a fatal rookie error.
Tim caught it immediately.
“Rookie! Your partner’s been shot. You need to call for help. Where are you?”
Nolan jumped.
“I— I—”
“Dead,” Tim cut in, blunt as always. “He’d be dead.
You’ve been on patrol for months. Still this distracted? Distraction gets people killed.”
The words hit harder than Tim probably intended — not cruel, just brutally honest.
Nolan lowered his head.
“Sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.”
Tim noticed the sadness in his tone, but kept his professional posture.
“Hope not.”
That was as gentle as Tim Bradford got during work hours.
The silent decline
Days went by, and Nolan tried to act normal.
He was a decent actor… for most people.
He slept, but woke up exhausted.
Drank way too much coffee.
Talked less.
Smiled less.
Lucy and Jackson noticed before anyone else.
“Nolan’s acting weird,” West said.
“And quiet,” Lucy added, frowning. “Ever since that patrol with Bradford.”
They decided to talk to him.
Big Cheese — Lucy tries to help
“Nolan, what’s going on?” Lucy asked, straight to the point.
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
“John, you’re terrible at lying,” she said, crossing her arms. “Did Bradford say something? Did something happen?”
He hesitated. Then let out a defeated sigh.
“I messed up, Lucy. What Grey said, the test with Bradford… I was so tired I didn’t even know where we were. I wasn’t paying attention. I’m a failure.”
Lucy’s eyes widened.
“Hey. Stop. It was a bad day.
You’re human. You’re learning.
And Bradford… well, you know. He’s an effective jerk. It works.”
Nolan laughed — weakly, but it counted.
Then he pushed his tray forward.
“I’m not even hungry. You can have the fries.”
Lucy nearly fell out of her chair.
“You turned down food. John. Are you sick?”
“Just… no appetite.”
Lucy narrowed her eyes, genuinely worried.
“Promise you’d tell me if something was wrong?”
Nolan exhaled and gave a small, tired smile.
“I promise.”