Work Text:
Tim,
I hope you never have to read this, but it felt important to write. Or, at least, I hope you never have to read it without me. Maybe we’ll look at it together when I’m back. But if I’m not here with you, then you’ve read the envelope and you know what happened.
I miss you. Wherever I am, whatever comes after all this, know that I’ll always miss you.
You have been, hands down, one of the best parts of my life. Even in the early days, when you pushed me through field training, you were always looking out for me. Then we were friends, and that was fantastic. Now we’re an us, and it’s more than I ever hoped for. I never wanted this to turn into leaving you, not like it is if you’re getting this letter. But even after everything we’ve both endured, you’re still pushing me to reach my own goals.
I love you for that.
We haven’t said it yet – unless we say it before I leave, I’m writing this a couple days early so I’ll stop thinking about how to put it all on paper – but it’s true. It’s been true for a while now, but we talked about not rushing into things. If this is how you find out, I’m sorry.
But I love you. If I listed all the reasons why, I’d miss my undercover deadline. The biggest one covers most of the rest though: you’ve always done right by me, always been good to me, even when it was hard for you. I know that. Even when we fight, you’re still good to me (the making up doesn’t hurt either.)
Take care of Kojo. I know you will, even if I don’t ask, but I hate that he won’t understand why I’m not around anymore. Tell him I love him, and give him lots of walks and scratches. Maybe every so often, a treat that you tell him is from me? Don’t tell him I told you, but he loves to lick peanut butter off of spoons. When he misses me, try that. Thanks again for taking him in and making sure he had a good home. He deserves it, and I know you’ve warmed up to him too.
I love you for that. We make a good family, us and Tamara.
Make sure she’s OK. Or as close to it as she can be. She shouldn’t have to go through this, but none of us are naive enough not to know it’s a possibility. Try to let her help you too, you can be there for each other. I’m writing her a note of her own, but just … you know. Look out for her. For me?
This doesn’t feel long enough, if it’s all I get to leave you with. But I could use the entire notebook and it still wouldn’t be enough. And you’ll be home soon, and I don’t want you to know about this unless you have to.
I promise, if I don’t come home, I tried everything to make sure I would. I never gave up.
I love you. For everything.
Love,
Lucy
Lucy clicks her pen closed and flicks a couple of loose teardrops off of the paper. The ink smudges under the moisture as she tugs it out of her journal and folds the page over. After she seals it into an envelope, she writes Tim’s name across the front – his full name and rank, hoping that his disaffection for being called Sergeant Timothy Ryan Bradford – can maybe bring him a little bit of levity, in the event that he ever has to see it. On the back, she writes In case of the unimaginable, then signs her own name underneath.
Love,
Lucy