DISCLAIMER. I DO NOT OWN ROOKIE BLUE AT ALL.
"No. It's a pretty good story." The words weakly slurred out of Sam's mouth. He barely heard himself speak, but he hoped to God Andy had.
Despite his hopelessly desperate state, he experienced a sudden delirious sensation. She had just admitted that he alone had made her feel more loved and cherished than anyone ever had or could. That might be something just worth dying for!
He wanted to reassure her, but speaking cost him precious air. He was dizzy from the loss of blood. It was getting harder to breathe. He had no ability to stay conscious, alert and with her right now.
Andy looked at him, her eyes etched with pain and fear. Then she let out a muffled sob.
"I love you," she stammered in desperation. "I love you," she repeated more firmly, shimmering tears trickling down her cheeks.
"You are my story Sam. You!" There was anguish in her, but a radiant honesty too. He captured it in his mind's eye to keep him strong.
He couldn't do anything but lie there, as Andy's distressed face floated in and out of focus. He clung to her hand, his mouth dry as chalk and his voice reduced to a raspy croak stuck in his throat. He felt so damn tired and weak.
There was so much to say; but a tight smile was all he managed.
He wanted to tell her that she had become the beginning, middle and end of his own story, practically from the moment she hurtled into his life.
God, if nothing else, he really needed to tell her that she was the author of his future, if he was to have one.
Instead his story might be ending right now, right here! With death lurking somewhere not far from him, Sam experienced a rush of fear and frustration. Yet it was all tempered by the euphoria of finally knowing that he was still the one who truly lived in her heart.
It was ironical really that the starkness that surrounded them so dramatically, also enhanced the thick, intricate layers and vivid complexities of the ties that bound them.
It was all out there now. The intense emotion between them was raw, unmasked and concealed no more.
Shit, why had they kept avoiding the obvious? How had they managed to evolve to such a state of denial? How had they maintained that stubborn refrain that kept them drifting past each other?
He had only really begun living when she was in his life. And now here he was; possibly dying with only her hand to hold on to.
He wanted to live dammit! He wanted to hold her in life again… to have and to hold… Christ. It was untenable. It wasn't conceivable, but he loved her more now than he even knew it was possible to love someone.
As Sam tumbled more and more from consciousness, he drew a reverent sort of comfort knowing, Andy's face was the last he saw before he succumbed to the fogginess… or worse.
If he wasn't so sleepy, weak, paralyzed and lost right now, he would reach for her and cling to her. He would crush her against him just as he had that incredible night she had evocatively recalled moments ago.
While the haziness claimed him he began vividly reliving that night. He heard again the sound of her hauntingly painful sobs. They penetrated the silence and drew him out of a deep slumber.
At that moment every inch of his soul had cried out to soothe her. He had instinctively grabbed her and cradled her tightly against him. His fingers tangled in her hair, his heart pounding with a protective instinct reserved for her alone.
He somehow knew she was dreaming about the night her mother had stolen away and left her. Left without a word, sign or gesture.
He had buried his nose into the soft silkiness of her neck then and softly but assertively whispered. "I'm right here. I'm going to hold on to you and I'm never going to let you go."
As though by osmosis, she had absorbed everything he was trying to communicate to her. Christ. He had felt a quiet new calmness claim her as she softened and relaxed into him.
His cloudy mind clambered back to his present dilemma. His body was failing him, but his heart was fighting to live another day. Fighting for one more chance to love her again.
The darkness was coming for him, dragging him down to an abyss and far away from her.
His brain began scrambling and racing with a thousand frantic memories all meshed up in one another, as he grasped for one last chance with her.