So this is just something I came up with while listening to Saving Amy by Brantley Gilbert (Such a great song I recommend listening to it if you haven't already.). Anyways, so I wrote this one night and it's been finished for a while so I decided to post this quite short one shot.

-Z

Andy McNally scrolled through her phone, reading all of the old messages that he had sent her. It had become a ritual. The messages themselves were mundane, but to Andy they were so much more important. She sighed and put her phone down, needing the sleep. She reached across her bed to turn the lamp out, but halfway there she paused with her hand hovering in the air. The dim light that her bedside lamp cast reflected off the modest rock that made its home on her third finger. She used her thumb to twist it around, thinking of her fiancé. It had been a year today. Three hundred and sixty five days since she walked into their house and found him bleeding on the floor. A whole year since the night that she lost him.

Andy could remember that night like it was yesterday. She remembered the first moment she saw him, how it suddenly felt like all the lights in the world had gone out. To McNally they had; because he was her world. She remembered the feeling that settled in the pit of her stomach when the doctors wheeled him off to surgery. It was like someone had punched her in the gut over and over and over until all she could do was curl up and pray. But above everything else, she remembered the doctor walking over to her. Andy forced herself to stand when she saw her walk into the waiting room and suddenly the few strides were the longest in her life.

"I'm sorry, Miss McNally." She had told her, "But he didn't make it through the surgery."

Andy could feel the presence of her best friend as her knees hit the floor. She screamed, she didn't care that there were people around or that she looked like a hysterical child, because it felt like her life had ended too.

Andy pushed herself into a sitting position to look around the room. This wasn't the room that they shared. No, she had sold the house and got herself an apartment. But he bled through. His shirt was on the dresser, Andy didn't wear it but she liked to have it there, his photo was on the nightstand, his badge held a place of honour on the cabinet. Sometimes, if Andy shut her eyes, she could believe he was still here.

Still, she had good days and bad days. Today was far from a good day. It felt like her shift dragged on and on, not to mention the suspect that had tried to shoot her. But when she got to the end of her shift she ran into the locker room and slammed her fist into the door of her locker. Then, when the pain sliced through her hand, she did it again and again and again until the door was thoroughly dented and there was a smear of blood at the centre.

"Why aren't you here?" She screamed, "Why?" She felt the sobs tear through her and she let them, "Where the hell are you Luke?" The last question was a mere whisper. With the last of the strength she had gone, she let herself fall to the ground and sob.

That was until Traci had found her. Traci had picked her up off the floor and driven her home and she didn't leave Andy's side until she had her tucked up in bed.

TWO YEARS LATER

Andy walked out of the station and headed straight to her car.

"Hey, McNally!" She was stopped short by the sound of Sam Swarek behind her, "Coming to the Penny?" His question was more of a hope. Everyone knew that Andy didn't go out anymore. The new rookies assumed that she never had, but everyone else knew better. They knew that Andy used to be the life of the party. But the only time she had set foot in the Black Penny in the last three years was Luke's wake.

"I don't think so, Sam." She told him, walking backwards to keep eye contact.

"Come on, I'll buy you a drink?"

A small smile spread across her face. "Fine. One drink."

One drink turned in to several as Andy threw back shot after shot. It wasn't the same kind of drinking that she had done in the last few years, which had been to forget and to numb her pain. This was because she was having a good time with her friends.

Andy just slammed her fifth empty shot glass on the bar when she noticed her bare hand. The ring that had decorated her left hand for almost three years wasn't there. That was when she remembered that she didn't put it on that morning, and for the first time she realised that she was ok with that.