The Edge of a Dream

by Kadi

Rated M

Disclaimer: This is not my sandbox. I only enjoy playing in it.

Warning: At the urging of my beta, I must tell you: There are feels here. Some of them are good, and others could be, in her words, like "chopping onions". Also – this is rated M for later chapters.

A/N: For the record, this is not my fault. Okay, not entirely my fault. You can all thank kate04us for tossing this plot bunny in my cage and then feeding it mega carrots. As always, many thanks to the awesome #sassybeta narcissanerea, any remaining errors are all mine, and I'm sure there are many, because only #secretbeta is perfect. All I can do is say… I am so very, very sorry, and please bear with me; this is going to be long, even by my standards.

Chapter 1

2017

He always hoped that when his moment came, he would be able to look back on his life and see more joy than regret. The trouble with looking back was that he couldn't see one without the other. It was all there, the good and the bad. All of his mistakes, all of his missteps, they were intermixed with every good deed or happy moment. All of the hurt and the pain, it brought him here, it put him in this moment every bit as much as the good times.

Andy Flynn closed his eyes. He drew a breath and felt it rattle through his lungs. He tasted the dirt and the dust, the insulation and plaster that were floating around in the air around him. His chest constricted and hitched, his throat tickled. He coughed, deep and long, and felt the pain of his injuries throb through his body.

His head rolled against the wall behind him. There was sweat on his brow. It itched in his hair, made his eyes and the cuts on his forehead sting. He forced his eyes open again and looked at the radio that was clasped loosely in his hand. It was resting limply against his leg. He was saving his cell battery, using the phone for light to check his injuries. It had only been about twenty minutes since he checked his leg. The bleeding had slowed. His leg wasn't the problem, though. He knew he had some internal injuries. There were at least a couple of broken ribs. His side hurt like a bitch, and from the swelling, he was sure there was some bleeding.

There wasn't going to be a lot of time to get him out of there. Andy knew that there were crews trying, but he wasn't the only person trapped in that building. There were others, probably some hurt a lot worse than he was. He shifted his grip on the radio and lifted it.

"Did you find her yet?" His voice rasped, thick from the pain, but his throat was raw from the coughing and the grit in the air.

Static greeted him across the radio waves between his position and the command center that he knew would be set up outside. He waited, swallowed and coughed again. There were a couple of clicks. His eyes closed at the sound of a familiar voice. For just a moment he could almost believe that he was anywhere else. There was no pain filling his side, there was no unusual numbness in his leg. His head didn't ache and his throat didn't burn. He could be at home, if not for the worry that he heard in her voice.

It laced her tone. She spoke almost haltingly. "I'm here." There was another pause, more static. "I was getting caught up on the situation. Andy…" She whispered his name and it was almost lost in the static of the line.

He could almost see her. He knew that she would close her eyes and look away from the radio in her hand. She would swallow and press her lips together. For just a moment she would breathe slowly; she would collect herself and try to approach the situation without letting him know just how frightened or upset she really was.

"The building fell down. You're all caught up now," he quipped sarcastically. "I'm at the mercy of the LAFD, babe. I think I'm screwed."

She laughed, but the sound was wet and filled with more grief than joy. "They can hear you," she told him. "You should see the looks that I'm getting right now. You may want to be careful, Andy. Some of these guys are going to be at the game next week. They might decide to not go so easy on the old man playing catcher for the LAPD."

Andy barked a laugh. "Honey, the joke is on them. My leg is shot. I'm sending in my relief." He leaned his head back and cleared his throat. He tried to get the thick crud and tickle out, but that wasn't going to happen as long as he was breathing it in. "Talk to me," he muttered.

There was only the whistle of static again. The seconds passed and felt like hours. "We're going to have you out of there soon," she finally said. "They're stabilizing the building as they get people out."

"No." Andy had heard all of that already. It was the same thing that the Fire Chief on the scene had said to him, more than once. "Talk to me," he said again. "I just wanna hear you." Before I die hung in the air between them. They weren't naïve and foolish. They knew how this was going to end. There was only one way that it could end. It's why she had been fetched, lights and sirens, and brought into an area that the fire department was keeping blocked off, even to cops.

It was hard to breathe. It was hard to even think. Sharon looked at the man beside her. He was tall and thin, hair gray beneath his hat. The fire chief gave her a long, solemn look. They had gotten a run down of his injuries. The Lieutenant told them just how bad he was hurt. He was on the third floor when the building came down. He was stuck in a pocket, under tons of rock and steel, and wood. It was going to be hours before they got to him, and in the meantime, there were other people to get out. They would get to him when they could, but it wasn't looking good.

The Fire Chief nodded once, gravely. "Talk to him," he told her. It would probably be the last time.

She felt gutted. Sharon turned her gaze to the collapsed structure in front of them. It didn't look as if it had ever been anything, least of all an apartment building. Her breath caught in her chest. It burned in her throat. The radio that was in her hand was gripped tightly. She held it between her breasts and hunched slightly. She saw spots behind her eyes before her body finally reacted and she drew air. That breath was ragged, and it almost choked her.

Sharon lifted the radio twice, but didn't know what to say. She looked away from it again and squeezed her eyes closed. She saw images of the life they lived; of the last time that she saw him. Her shoulders hunched, weighted down by regret and pain; her chest ached, but with so much love and need. This couldn't be the end. They thought they had more time. They thought they would be able to fix so many things, repair so much damage. It was slipping away from her now, like the ebbing of the tide when the sun rose.

She exhaled again. Sharon lifted the radio in her shaking hand and turned her back on those that were standing near her. She walked away from them; put distance between their presences and the words that she needed to say. They would hear her with their own radios, but she still craved that illusion of privacy. "I don't want the kids down here, the area is too unstable, but we'll call them. You need to talk to them."

"Yeah." Andy stared into the darkness around him. There were beams of light, at least for now, but not much. He could see the thick air swirling in it. It was something to focus on at least, while he listened to the tremor in her voice. "I will. I wanna hear you right now…" He trailed off as he began coughing again. The pain in his chest made it hard enough to breathe without the constant coughing. "What are you wearing?" He wheezed.

Sharon rolled her eyes at him. Despite the pain, he managed to still be rather predictable. "A suit," she quipped. "Andy, I want you to save your strength. We don't have to do this now. Talk to the kids first."

"No," he told her. "Now is good, before they get here. They've heard us fight enough. Dammit, Sharon. I don't wanna talk to the Commander. I wanna talk to my wife."

Her eyes closed again. "You are," she said softly. Whatever else had passed between them, that was still true. "I didn't think…" She shook her head. It was no time for regret or rehashing old pains. "That doesn't matter now. I'm here. I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere. We'll talk until they get you out."

"It matters." He grimaced in pain. "It all matters, Sharon. It just doesn't change a goddamned thing. You and me, it's what it is. I'm always gonna love you. God…" His eyes closed. His voice broke a little. "I wish I could go back. I wish I could fix it. I'd love you better…"

She pressed her fingers against her lips. Her lashes were wet. The pavement in front of her began to blur with the moisture filling her eyes. "You couldn't love me better, Andy," she had to force her voice above a whisper so that he would hear her over the static. "No one could love me more than you have." She lifted her eyes to the sky; Sharon felt like cursing. He was always the one with the temper, but right now she felt like yelling and stomping, fighting the fates that were forcing this moment upon them. "You deserved better," she said. "I became complacent. I should have listened, Andy… I pushed you away." The truth of it slammed into her with the force of the collapsing building that had buried him alive. "I pushed you away to prove that I didn't need you, and I was blind to it. I was arrogant."

"I was an ass." Her pain was more than he could take. "The truth is that I was an asshole. That never changed. You've known that about me for almost as long as we've known each other, honey. I pushed until you pushed back. I was pissed off at the world and I took it out on you." Andy shook his head. He lowered the radio for a moment. There was more than sweat and dirt stinging his eyes. His jaw clenched against the pain of his mistakes. "I shoulda held on, and I didn't. I shoulda never let go of you."

"We both should have held on," she told him. "I was trying to prove a point. I forgot somewhere along the way that I didn't have to prove it to you. I'm sorry, Andy."

"I can still remember the first time I saw you," he said. The thought came out of nowhere, along with a vision. Andy almost smiled. "I knew you'd be trouble… God almighty, lady, you were the best trouble I ever got into."

It had been too long since they talked about that; too long since she heard him repeat the story of how they'd met. She could almost picture it now. It was a hot summer day, if she remembered correctly, but how could she forget. It was where they began, and if this was how they were going to end, Sharon wanted to wrap herself in the memory. "Tell me…"

-TBC-