Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue, or anything affiliated with the show.

Whilst working on "When the Sun Found the Moon", this idea sprung to mind. I blame it on all the tea I drink at night while avoiding sleep XD This is set anywhere in S5, really. Posting this doesn't mean that WtS isn't going to be updated; this plot bunny just would not leave me alone in the slightest. Been a while since I wrote something quite this angsty, but it's better to get the angst out on paper, right? :3 On a random note, I wrote all of this my Thursday night whilst listening to the live stream of Coldplay's show in Sydney – I think the emotions I was feeling during the concert may have bled into the writing a little hehe But still, I hope you all enjoy this!

Title taken from "Time After Time" by Cyndi Lauper.

They had been staring at each other for what – to Andy, anyway – felt like hours, but both she and Sam knew that time had barely passed since they sat down at the table in silence. She had been expecting it, really; the promises of being more open with each other had been made by the both of them.

Looking down at her clasped hands, Andy bit at her lip, trying to stop the residual tremors, trying to stop the gathering tears. She realised how much of futile effort it was, and it took all her willpower not to jump off her seat and run.

But she couldn't run. Too often had she run when in the company of Sam, and facing issues in their relationship, and it only made things worse. She needed to man up, get her shit together, and try to explain to the man she loved just what was happening.

But what if telling him results in losing him again? She thought, finally lifting her eyes to meet Sam's tormented gaze. Biting at her lower lip, Andy shook her head, as if to dispel the thoughts, before a sigh heaved its way from her body.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?" The silence was broken by Sam's words, and Andy mulled over the way she could answer. She needed to tell him, for the sake of her sanity, and their relationship. But she couldn't bring herself to do so.

Night after night, she watched as he fell in slow motion, body arcing backwards as the power of the shot swept him from his feet. Night after night, she wished that it was her who had taken the bullet. How was she supposed to tell the man she loved that she had wanted Ford to shoot her; that she had wanted to be the one to end up in the hospital?

Night after night, she saw Chloe clutch at her neck as blood spilled onto the pristine snow beneath them. Night after night, she wished that it had been her lying in the park, snow melting beneath her body heat and soaking into her uniform. How was she supposed to tell Sam that she still felt guilty for everything that had gone down over that day; that she constantly blamed herself for the injuries caused to Sam and Chloe?

It was all my fault, she wanted to yell, to try and make him understand. It was all my fault, and I got away without a scratch. It should have been me.

Returning to chewing at her lip, Andy watched as Sam shifted in his seat, moving to brace his elbows against the kitchen table, hands clasped together in front of his face as he continued to watch her.

She wanted to know what was running through his mind at that moment, to try and ascertain his train of thought, so she could deflect the issue in a direction that would save both of them so much pain. But Andy knew that she had brought it on herself, and she knew that no matter what lie she tried (and knowing her luck, failed) to spin, Sam would press her for the truth.

Not surprising he made Detective, she thought bitterly, feeling the tremors slowly moving to take over her body as she thought back to the six months she was undercover. She was still harbouring guilt from that time, too, if she were to be completely honest with herself. But it wasn't something to add to the issues being brought up in that moment.

"McNally," Sam tried again, sighing as he spoke. Andy shook her head once more, trying to get away from her dangerous thoughts, watching as her lover pinched the bridge of his nose. "Just tell me why I found you sleeping on the couch… again."

She tried to focus her attention anywhere but him, but once more, she knew it was futile. Meeting his gaze, Andy breathed out slowly, before speaking low. "You deserve to sleep well, to not be woken by my stupid nightmares all the time. I slept there because I didn't want to risk waking you."

Sam nodded, arms shifting to lay flat against the tabletop, though all he wanted to do was to reach out and touch Andy. He had known that she was having trouble sleeping in the wake of the attack on 15 Division, but he thought that it had long passed. They went to bed together, they both slept the night through, and he would wake to see her curled into his chest, ear over his heart as she watched him sleep.

The fact that she was always awake before him these days should have set off alarm bells, seeing as she used to hate getting up in the mornings. But Sam had been focusing too heavily on the fact that she was here, with him, in his bed; sharing all aspects of her life with him. He was blind to what was really going on with her, but perhaps the headlights would come on now to illuminate the truth behind the situation.

"'All the time', Andy? You haven't woken me for well over a month now; I wouldn't count that as being all the time."

Turning her head quickly so that Sam couldn't see the expression on her face, Andy knew that she would have to be completely honest with him. But she knew that in doing so, the chances of her relationship with Sam ending would skyrocket, and that was something that she didn't want to jeopardise.

Better to be honest and not have another fight brewing down the line, she finally acquiesced, her shaking hands moving to rub at her eyes. The action was more to try and coax her tears away, because she knew as soon as she opened her mouth, the tears would start streaming down her cheeks.

"They haven't stopped since the day of the shooting." The statement hung heavy in the air, and neither Sam nor Andy could breathe for a moment. Andy, because she had finally let the truth of her guilt, of her pain, known to her lover. Sam, because he was hurt; hurt over the fact that Andy had been going through this all on her own, and hurt because she had obviously been lying to him for who knows how long.

"I don't…" Sam's whispered words were almost missed by Andy, but she knew that she needed to explain more than she had already done.

This is the true test of our relationship, right here. Giving a slight nod, Andy rose from her seat. She wandered over to the sink, intent on getting a glass of water, but as she made it there, she couldn't move. Her hands gripped at the edge of the counter as she leaned over slightly, her hair falling around her shoulders, shrouding her face from Sam's view.

"Every night I go to bed with you… but as soon as you're asleep, I slip out and come downstairs. I spend the night on the couch, either sleeping or watching TV. If I do sleep, it's never for more than an hour at a time before I wake up. Half an hour before your alarm goes, I move back to bed, curl up against you and close my eyes." She heard Sam breathing out, and knew that he was trying to control his anger.

"Why?"

Andy shook her head, not knowing the answer to that question. She wanted to protect Sam, she supposed, but it wasn't just that.

"It's my guilt to live with," she finally replied, knuckles whitening with the strength of the grip she had on the counter.

"Don't say that," Sam ground out, standing from his chair and moving behind her, pressing his chest to her back as his arms wound around her waist. "We're in this, together, McNally. Through thick and thin, no matter what gets thrown our way. Lean on me, Andy. Please."

She never thought she'd see the day where Sam Swarek would be pleading with her, and she was honestly stunned. How was she to go about accepting the offer of having Sam there, when she didn't even know how he could help?

It wasn't as if he could change her thought patterns for her. He couldn't turn back time. He couldn't undo the past that she had helped create. She didn't know what to do with her conflicting thoughts anymore.

Letting out a broken sob, Andy found herself hunching over the sink a little more, tears steadily dripping from her face into the metal basin. She felt his arms tighten around her waist, and she wanted to turn around, to bury her face in his chest as she sobbed it out. She wanted to draw comfort from him, and to have him tell her that it would all be okay, even though they both knew that it wouldn't be for a while yet.

"Andy," Sam murmured, his heart breaking at the way his lover was crumbling in his arms. How had he not seen how badly this was all affecting her before now? How could he have been so blind to the needs of his girlfriend? What baffled him, though, was how long Andy had been keeping this from him, and from others, too, if the fact that she was still allowed on the streets was anything to go by.

Shaking her head, Andy turned around and pressed herself close to Sam, soft, indistinguishable words falling from her lips as her fingers grasped at any fabric she should get her hands onto.

"What are you saying, love?" He needed to know so that he could help her, even if it ended up breaking his heart further. He should never have let things gotten this bad.

Pulling back enough so that her voice was no longer muffled, Andy looked up at her lover through reddened, puffy eyes. "I'm sorry… It… it should have been me. It should have been me."

The words were repeated, over and over, and Sam's face paled as he realised what she was saying. He shook his head, pulling her tighter against his body, not wanting to let go in the slightest. "Don't say that, McNally. Please, don't ever say that to me."

"Why not?" Andy asked, pulling back as her head whipped up to look Sam in the eyes, her face contorted in pain. "It's all my fault. It all started with me, and it should have ended with me."

Though she meant the words she said, Andy didn't mean for them to come out. She knew that from this day on, Sam would look at her as if she was an alien; the last thing she wanted. But the truth was finally out there, even if it was something that Sam had been suspecting for a while now.

Shaking his head, Sam tightened his grip on Andy, needing nothing more than for her to see sense. "No, Andy. It would have happened, no matter what. Kevin Ford was out for revenge; there was no stopping him until that point."

"I could have prevented it all from happening if I had just done the right thing and reported Marlo and her illness to Best after the quarantine. Had I done that, Kevin Ford would never have become an issue, and there would be two officers who never went to the hospital, and one who never got kidnapped. Tell me now that it wasn't my fault."

Sam could only stare at her silently, not knowing what else to say to her. It was clear that Andy was only able to take the blame and not see any other way than what was so obviously set in her mind.

"How do you know that events wouldn't have panned out this way, Andy? Weren't you the one who told me that the universe had plans for everyone?" Remembering back to the first night they spent together in Sam's undercover apartment whilst he was working the Brennan case brought a smile to his face, despite the situation they were currently in.

"As much as you don't want to think of it this way, but perhaps it was fate that Christopher went missing and Kevin Ford was brought to our attention. What's to say that if Marlo was off the case, someone else wouldn't have started looking deeper into his case?"

Her breath hitched in her throat as Sam spoke, her fingers tightening in their grip on his shirt as she shook her head. "Why couldn't it have been me?" she whispered, unable to look him in the eyes as the words fell from her mouth.

Her eyes closed as she drew in a deep breath, and the images tattooed onto her eyelids made them snap back open. One of Chloe, clutching her neck, the other of Sam, bleeding out on the floor. Andy's hands shook, and she tried to pull her fingers from the tangle of the material, but she was scared to let go; as if letting go would mean he wasn't really here – that he was just a figment of her imagination and he never made it through the surgery.

"I'm here, McNally," Sam murmured, brushing her hair away from her face with one hand as the other anchored itself on her hip, slight pressure being applied so she could feel him. "I'm not going anywhere, Andy; not today, not tomorrow, not ever. I will show you each and every day that I am not leaving your side, if that's what it'll take."

Pressing his lips to her forehead, Sam pulled Andy tighter against his body. "Together, we are going to work through this guilt complex you have about the whole incident. Because it was not your fault; it was no one but Kevin Ford's fault; and I am going to keep telling you that until you stop blaming yourself, stop wishing it was you in our places.

"Because if you've not forgotten, you were on that list, too. It was your quick speed in getting Chloe to safety that stopped you from getting hurt." Sam had to swallow around the lump in his throat that had appeared as the idea of Andy – his McNally – having been hurt in the brutal bullet assault on the park. "Chloe and I never blamed you for what happened, so you should stop blaming yourself. Hell, no one in the Division blames you for what happened, no matter what you seem to be leading yourself to believe.

"Andy, please… just let me help, in any way that I can. I know you're strong enough to push on through, but please, let me. Let me take some of the weight from your shoulders for a while; let me hold you at night, all night long, even when the nightmares try to take over."

Sam gently pulled away from Andy, taking her hand as he led her through their house and to their bedroom, where he lay them down on the bed. He was surprised at the fact Andy so willingly moved with him, at the way she didn't protest when he pulled her close to his chest under the covers. How she seemed to have given up on the fight to make him see that she was to blame; as if she had accepted the fact that she wasn't to blame, after so many months of fighting it.

"Remember that story you told me? Where I held you tightly and never let go; where I told you that I'm right here, that I'm gonna hold onto you, and I'm never gonna let you go? Well that's just going to keep on happening. Every time you fall asleep, I'll be right there, holding you through the nightmares. Because as much as I'm your story, Andy, you're also mine.

"We're going to move past this, together. We are going to continue building chapters to our story, however long it may take for us to write them. This'll be a hard one to work through, but we'll get there, together."

Andy sobbed as Sam's words registered in her mind, and she knew from his tone that he was being completely honest. He wasn't going to run, no matter how broken, how dark she was sounding in that moment. She prayed that he would uphold his end of the promise; that he truly would be there as she worked to get over her guilt.

"I love you," she cried out, burying her face in his chest. She could feel the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath her ear; the rise and fall as he took in each breath. Andy felt the press of his lips against her forehead, and she pushed deeper into his arms, seeking the comfort that only Sam – her Sam – could bring.

"I love you too, McNally; and no matter what happens, that'll never change. I got you, Andy. I'm not letting go."

So… it kinda took a life of its own, even though it's only a short piece (compared to some oneshots I've written in the past). I know I didn't truly resolve the issue, but it was more of a look into Andy's mind than about her and Sam fighting/working through it. However, I may come and write a sequel or companion piece to this to try and tie it up. I just felt like this was the perfect ending spot for angst turned fluff.