A/N: I have no idea where this came from but it's a continuation of 2x13. Would love to know what you think.


Parasite.

The minutes ebb away as they silently travel through the empty and dimly lit streets. The strong hum of the engine choruses through the vehicle, the passing streets lights painting alternating patterns to the inside of the moving machinery. It's intriguingly peaceful, a well welcomed rest to both of them after an emotionally and physically gruelling day. But the peace also arrives with a companion, an uninvited and unwelcomed guest, whispering its taunts and reminders to the vehicle's inhabitants. It's a parasite, feeding on the relief and new found happiness of the pair releasing only angst and poison back to them. They know it's there, both completely aware of its presence, yet they fight it…fight the need to talk…the need to acknowledge it.

She studies him silently. He looks worn, tired…and pained. The purple hued bruises continue to form on his face, a small grimace settling on his lips every few seconds or so as his braced hand is forced to grip harder on the steering wheel. He feels her gaze etching upon his skin and so he cocks his head slightly, a soft reassuring smile pulling at his lips before he turns back to focus on the road ahead, as does she.

So the minutes continue to ebb away, silently consuming them, and before long they find themselves coming to a stop outside his home. For a few seconds everything, everyone, is still. The hum of the engine diminishes and the passing patterns of light are now immobile. She lets out the breath she's held captive before shifting her gaze from the empty road before her to the man beside her.

He once again offers a soft reassuring smile, his attempts to rid her of the guilt he knows is coursing through her. She tries yet fails to offer a convincing smile in return as her eyes flutter back and forth, searching for and noting the scratches and bruises colouring his face.

"Ready" he questions gruffly, indicating with a nod of his head to his front door; an attempt to distract her from studying his aching form.

She nods silently, her fingers reaching for the handle of her door quickly as he attempts to release himself from the constraints of his seatbelt without straining his braced hand. Before he has the chance to reach for the handle of his own door it's swung open, revealing Andy on the other side. He climbs out of his truck as she reaches for both of their bags in the back seat, before turning back to him with a soft smile, "Keys?" she requests with her free hand open in front her.

He debates with himself for a few seconds before admitting defeat and dropping his own house keys into her awaiting hand.

He follows behind as she makes her w ay to his front door, he wants to tell her that he can carry his own bag, that he doesn't need help getting out of the car or opening his own front door. But he knows she needs this.

He hears the gentle click of the lock releasing and steps through behind her. She places both bags at the bottom of the stairs before turning back to him, her eyes wide and questioning. He gestures for her to follow him as he makes his way into the kitchen, and she complies.

It's followed them. The parasite. It's attached to both of them, and it's growing. The lack of acknowledgement only urging it to grow.

"Drink?" he questions, leaning against the kitchen counter to face her.

She shakes her head silently in reply.

He nods, "Well, I need a drink. A strong one" he points out, "Just let me clean some of the scratches up first" he explains softly and in receipt of yet another of her silent nods he pushes off of the counter gently to make his way to the bathroom.

He peels away the faded t-shirt from his chest, mindful of his braced hand, before turning to fill the sink before him with water. He fails to hear the nearing footsteps above the running water and only notices her presence at the creaking sound of the wood as she leans against the doorframe. He doesn't want to turn around, fearful of how she'll react to seeing him right now.

"Let me help?" she asks in unfamiliar timid tone.

He sighs aloud, nodding his head in reply.

She walks to stand behind him and he silently hands over the bag of cotton wool, of which she tears a chunk away and soaks in the lukewarm water before them. Squeezing it of the excess water she returns her focus to his back.

She bites her lip as her eyes wanders the hard muscles of his back, marred with a number of varying bloodied scratches accompanied by the stains of several purple bruises. Her hand tentatively reaches out to trace the blemishes, rubbing against the skin gently to ease away the blood. She continues to work silently, occasionally reaching forward to soak more cotton wool. She grimaces as his muscles stiffen beneath her ministrations as the water run into the creases of the scratches, burning into his skin. She finishes the final scratch on the back of his back and throws the used cotton wool into the bin beside the toilet.

"I need to do your front" she states softly.

"McNally, you don't have to… I can reach my front…" he replies, attempting to remain as casual as possible.

The parasite is maturing. They won't talk about it, and so it continues to feed.

"Sam, please." She pleads quietly.

His chin bobs to his chest as he sighs deeply, "Okay."

He turns to face her, leaning back against the filled sink.

Her eyes scan his front quickly, a purple hued sea of bruises hide amongst his chest hair alongside a similar variation of scratches that were on his back. She knows he's hurting, these aren't some casual knocks gained from a shift on the street. She feels the tears forming in her eyes, clouding her vision slightly.

"You should have gone to the hospital." She points out, her voice stained with emotion.

The parasite's feeding halts to a stop.

"That's what the paramedic told me" he replies with a casual smirk attempting to lighten the mood.

She shakes her head with a half-hearted smile, before reaching to soak a small chunk of cotton wool in the sink behind him. Squeezing it free of the excess water she runs the cooling water across the first opening of his chest, she catches the slight wince on his face and lightens the pressure of her fingers slightly.

"You should have had these seen to properly, like the paramedics said" she reiterates, her eyes trained on the marred skin.

"Well I told them I had my own pretty little nurse who could take care of me" he drawls, his hands gently reaching out for her hips.

She shakes her head slightly, her face hidden by her brunette locks, as a combination of a snort and sob escapes from her.

It's frozen, as it's host finally acknowledges it's existence.

"Hey" he soothes, his hands gently tilting her head upwards before brushing away the remaining tendrils of hair framing her eyes.

She attempts to avoid his gaze as his hands hold her head in place, the roughened skin of his thumb caressing the smooth skin of her jaw. She holds in the tears, the effects of doing-so causing a cross between a sad smile and grimace to settle on her lips, often broken as her own pearly whites gently tug on the bottom lip.

He catches her gaze at last, "This isn't your fault" he states, his eyes never leaving hers.

She nods stiffly and he's quick to notice that she's still guilt ridden.

"This…" he indicates to his tarnished chest "is Boyd's doing. He's responsible for landing me in this mess, and you… you found me."

"They found you, I sat in the car." She points out.

"They couldn't have done it without you" he says softly, his hands now brushing the length of her arms before settling to rest at her hips.

She snorts again, "Yeah, because I was the rookie who not only sneaked into an undercover operation once, but went back again for another round" she states in frustration, disappointment lacing her tone.

"I'm pretty sure I lasted more than one round the second time" he points out, and he can't help but notice the slight tug of a smile at the corner of her mouth. "Besides I was the one who called you that night" he points out.

"I was the one who asked you to ask me to stay" she fires back.

"I was the one who actually asked you to stay" he replies, his hands gently pulling at her hips forcing her to lean slightly into him.

"I said yes" she mutters, her hands lightly roaming through hair of his chest.

"I'm glad you did" he states softly, his arms winding around her waist.

"Really?" she asks quietly.

"Yup." He replies, popping the 'p'.

Her hands travel to his jaw, the soft skin of her fingers trailing over the roughness of the day old stubble before moving towards the dark gash beneath his eye. "Even if it got you into this state?" she asks softly, desperately.

Once again he wants to fight back. He wants to argue with her, to tell that it isn't her fault, but he knows she needs this. She needs to know that even if she did land him in this mess that he still wants her, needs her. "Even if it got me into this state" he mutters before throwing in a determined glare "which you didn't" he adds pointedly.

She nods her head in reply, more to herself than him. That's when he notices her shoulders loosening, her stance slightly more comfortable, the stiff muscles of her jaw releasing. He smiles at her release, the guilt evaporating.

He pulls her in closer, his nose gently brushing against her own. "Stay?" he asks pleadingly.

There's a tug at the corner of her mouth, her brown orbs glowing "Okay" she whispers in reply.

As their lips gently brush against one another's, the parasite is forced to admit defeat. Forced to leave, taking its poison and its guilt with it, and allow them to relish the moment. To lose themselves to the relief, the happiness, to each other.