A/N: Many thanks to kate04us and kadi219 for their feedback and beta help. Any remaining mistakes are my own.
They worried about him. While Sharon had been growing increasingly sick, her death had been unexpected. With the growing number of visits to the doctor's office and the emergency trips to the hospital they figured she would be retiring sooner rather than later. Andy had been encouraging her, practically begging her at points, to go home, but as always, Sharon had been too stubborn to stop. She had gone out fighting, trying to prevent another murder suspect from getting away, but in the process she had gone too. The memory of Andy shaking and slumping into the Emergency Room chair played over and over again in their minds, narrated by the doctor giving them the news that Sharon had died.
For days, Andy refused to go home and broke down the few times that Provenza had suggested it. Worried that Sharon's death would cause him to slip back into the bottle, Provenza stopped asking and let him wallow in silence in his guest room save for Patrice who would bring him food, making sure he was still eating, or at least trying.
Eventually, they were forced to go back to the condo when the funeral home had asked for an outfit to bury her in. Patrice had volunteered to go, but Andy insisted he should be the one to do it as he was, had been, her husband. The car ride back to Los Feliz was quiet except for a few, deep sighs from Andy, who was slumped in the passenger seat and looked like he could be ill at any moment. His hands twisted together and his nails occasionally dug into his skin. Provenza hadn't seen him like this since he was two months sober and trying to stay that way after another fight with Sandra. He had wanted to see their kids for Christmas, but Sandra was worried he would just show up drunk again or maybe he wouldn't show up at all.
When they reached the 11th floor, Provenza watched as Andy inserted the key into the lock and turned it, stopping short of pushing the door open. Reaching his hand around in front of Andy, Provenza pushed the door slowly open as the keys clanked against it. A deafening silence greeted them, cloaked in the warm sunlight that bathed the living room through the windows.
Andy finally stepped into the condo and looked around, helpless and almost lost. He half expected her to come out of the kitchen, apron on and kiss him. Maybe she would come out of the bedroom, still trying to fix her hair and dropping her shoes in the process. As much as she valued the rules of social etiquette, she always seemed to be running just slightly behind everyone else. But she didn't. "I...She.." Andy felt his voice crack as tears started to run down his face. She wasn't at the office and she wasn't at home either. He could feel Provenza gently take his arm and guide him over to the couch, helping him sit down.
Andy leaned forward, putting his head in his hands and let his tears flow freely. The memories of sharing this couch with her came flooding back to him and he couldn't stop. He remembered laying on this couch, silently brooding about how uncomfortable it was and how he should be out in the field with his team. As much as he hated being stuck on the couch, he was just as grateful that Sharon had been there to take care of him. That was when he realized he wanted her in his life forever. No one had ever treated him so well or taken care of him so lovingly.
He thought back to the late nights they shared on that couch, watching TV and laughing as they ate pizza and cuddled. They would banter back and forth over whether football or baseball was the better sport, and they never were in agreement. In the early days of their relationship he would slip his arm around her shoulders and pull her close, toying with her hair until he worked up the courage to lean in and kiss her. He thought back to the first time he kissed her on that couch. His heart was pounding as he leaned down and pressed his lips against her own. She kissed him back and turned her body towards his, placing a hand on his leg while she did so.
One of the last conversations they had on that couch hurt him. They had been watching the interview with Stan Pearl and he remembered her saying that his mother could have prepared him for the biggest trial of his life. The regret had been evident in her voice. He knew she was worried about Stroh going after Rusty, she wanted so much to be able to protect him, but she could only do so much. Especially as limited as she was due to her health.
"Andy," she said, her voice shaking as she closed the laptop on the coffee table "I'm really sorry for putting you through all this."
Andy walked from behind the couch and sat down next to her, running a hand across her back. He watched as she put her head in her hands, hearing her gasp as she began to sob, and he pulled her close. "Putting me through what?" he asked, rubbing her shoulder. Sharon didn't answer him and continued to cry loudly. He couldn't recall ever seeing her like this. He had seen her sad, and he had definitely seen her angry, but he had never seen her so openly upset. She was a master at compartmentalization and hated anyone, including him, to see her lose control over her emotions.
"Hey, we're not going through anything," he said, knowing what she meant. "Listen, babe," he continued, helping her sit up. "You're on some terrific drugs and if the transplant doesn't come in time, then its the cardiac implant. Either way, you're good as new!" He smiled, trying to help her stop crying. Trying to give her hope and maybe even himself.
"In the meantime," she sniffled, "everyone else is in constant anxiety about how this is going to turn out and they're flying in from all over the country and the are dropping their own lives to deal with mine. Honestly, Andy, sometimes I think…" her voice trailed off for a moment. "I think it would have been better—easier," she continued, barely able to get her words out, "for you and the kids if I had just died in the ambulance."
"No," he said shaking his head. "You got it all wrong." He watched her head drop again, as if she was ashamed to meet his gaze. He couldn't believe what he was hearing her say. She was not one to give up. She was the one going in with a plan and telling everyone that it was going to be ok. Now she was wishing she was dead? "Alright, look," he started, nudging her shoulder a bit so she looked back up at him. He could see the guilt in her eyes. The way she looked at him like she was sorry that her living was causing such a burden on others.
"I'm sure there were moments when it seems like it might have been easier for you, and much less painful, and not as much to suffer through…" The raw pain and emotion staring back at him hurt him. He shook his head and continued. "But, it wouldn't have been easier for me, ok? I would go through everything we've had to manage and then I'd go through it all over again, and again just for…" He swallowed hard as he held her hands in his. "For one moment more to hold your hand, to have you near me."
Sharon leaned over and wrapped her arms around him. He felt her take a deep breath and heard her hum as she tried to regain control over her emotions. He squeezed his eyes shut and pulled her tighter, trying to be strong for the both of them.
Andy felt Provenza's hand rest lightly on his back. "I should have stopped her," he choked out between sobs. "I should have stopped her. I could have made her go home. I would have carried her out. I could have done it," he babbled.
"Andy," Provenza whispered. Through all the years they had been friends, Provenza had never seen him like this. Not when he was falling down drunk and going through his list of regrets, not during any of their cases no matter how bad they were, not when Sandra had left him and temporarily kept his son and daughter from him. Andy and Sharon had been through so much in such a short amount of time and her death had left him broken.
"You know Sharon," Provenza continued. "You knew her for years before you even started dating. She was not the type to stop fighting. You could have dragged her from her office and she still wouldn't have stopped."
Andy nodded as his tears slowed. His partner was right, she wouldn't have stopped. His wife, his beautiful and strong wife, and given life her everything, even to the very end. She was the most determined woman he had known, and even now he didn't know what he did to deserve her. "I don't know what to do," he whispered.
"You're going to get up, take a shower, and then I will help you pick out some clothes for her," Provenza said. Comforting people was never his strong suit, however giving his friend a sense of direction he could definitely do. He let his hand drop back to his lap and folded his hands in front of him as he watched Flynn walk down the hallway and close the bathroom door behind him.
Andy closed the door behind him and stripped his clothes off. He tossed them into the hamper in the corner of the bathroom and sighed. Even picking up his clothes and putting them in the hamper reminded him of her. It was one of the things she nagged him about. It annoyed him every time she did it, but he'd give the world to hear her tell him to pick up his clothes one last time. Pulling open the shower door, he turned on the water and stepped in, not waiting for it to warm up.
The cold water pounded on to his skin, and yet he could barely feel it. He tilted his face up and let the water stream across his face. The water cooled his eyes that were raw from crying. He felt so drained, he wasn't sure how long he would be able to go on. As the water warmed, he reached out and braced himself on the glass and tile. Memories of her entered his mind again and he thought about the few times they had tried to shower together. It was supposed to be sexy, them being naked and wet. Instead he found out that she preferred to, as he put it "bathe in the fires of hell". It made her laugh and she asked him if he expected anything different from Darth Raydor.
He and Provenza had originally come up with the name when she had appeared at another one of their crime scenes with her trench coat billowing behind her. The nickname stuck and it surprised him when she told him on their first actual date that she knew about it. She said she had been a bit hurt at first, but after watching The Empire Strikes Back with Ricky, she thought it was funny. She also admitted it helped that she pictured using a lightsaber against him when he annoyed her most.
The nickname stuck, and he teasingly called her Darth at home when she was getting on his case about something. He even went as far as to change his ringtone to the Imperial March and pretended to lose his phone just so she would call it. He remembered the look on her face when it played and how hard he had laughed when she smacked his arm. She would never call him again.
A repetitive knock on the door took him out of his thoughts. "Yeah?" He shouted over the sound of the shower. Provenza's voice came echoing through the door, asking if he was ok. Andy lied, assuring him that he was and shut off the water. He grabbed his towel from the hook and quickly dried off, wrapping the towel around his waist before he stepped off of the bath mat.
As if on auto pilot, he padded his way into their bedroom and opened the dresser drawer. He pulled on a pair of boxers and stepped into the first pair of jeans he found. He tugged a t-shirt over his head, hair still dripping down onto his shirt, and walked over to the door which lead to the hall. Upon opening it, he found Provenza standing and looking at all of their family photos which decorated the hallway.
Provenza sighed as he looked at his friend, but said nothing. He walked past Flynn and into his bedroom. It was a place he had never been in and never expected to be. Just like the rest of the condo, the bedroom was entirely Sharon. The colors, the furniture, everything. It was all her.
"I um...we never talked about what she wanted," Andy said. "We just never…" he trailed off, trying to keep from crying again.
Provenza put up his hand to stop him. "Do you remember what her favorite outfit was? Maybe a dress?" he suggested. He regretted not bringing Patrice along.
Andy nodded. He walked over to the closet and slid open the door to reveal a collection of dresses, skirts, and shoes. He reached in and took out a black dress with long sleeves. "This one," he said softly. "She liked this one. She wore it on our first date to Serve." I kissed her for the first time while she wore this dress, he thought to himself.
The dress she had worn when they started their lives together was the dress she left him in. He could barely remember her funeral. Almost the entire visitation was a blur to him. He stayed off to the side for the most part, greeted by what seemed like an endless stream of people coming up to him and offering their condolences. When they sat down for the evening prayer service he couldn't bring himself to look up at her. Instead he stared intently at the rosary in his hands. It had been hers, and he rolled each bead between his fingers as they all recited the Hail Marys and Our Fathers.
When it came time to close the casket Andy let her children go first. She was their mother and they deserved as much. Emily could barely stand, supported by both of her brothers, and he heard her loudly whisper "goodbye, mama". He watched as they leaned over and kissed her forehead, slowly walking off to the side room where the rest of their family stood, accompanied by the Major Crimes team.
Andy shakily stood from his chair and for a moment he thought he was going to fall over. He never expected to be doing this, at least not this soon. They were supposed to retire together, go to Ireland, and spend time with their future grandchildren. It wasn't supposed to end like this. He felt both of his arms being taken and looked to see Julio and Provenza supporting him. They were his family and they always would be.
They helped him up to her casket and he finally brought himself to look at her. She was still, so still with her arms folded on top of her chest. Her hair was done up, her makeup looked so close to how she would normally do it, and the wedding bands he had placed on her hand only a few short weeks before were glittering under the soft light. He kept looking at her, waiting for her to breathe. Julio loosened his grip on Andy's arm, allowing him to reach out and place his hand on her. She was so cold, so stiff. Nothing like his wife who was so full of warmth and love.
"I love you, Sharon," he thought silently. "I love you so much and I'm so sorry I made your life hell for so many years. I would take it all back if I could. I should have done more for you. I should have taken you home where you'd be safe." He let his tears fall freely, he didn't care who was around or who saw. "I'll take care of your kids, just like you asked," he promised her. Pulling away from Provenza and Julio he leaned over and kissed her one last time. "I love you" he repeated again, only this time out loud and placed her rosary on her chest. It was the last time he saw her.
Days after Sharon had been buried, the team admitted their feelings to one another, huddled in a small group in the Murder Room as if it was an evening support group. Their haunted eyes speaking loudly about what happened. It was all a blur, yet so clear at the same time. Buzz pulling a screaming Rusty from Sharon's office. Julio picking her up and placing her on the floor while they tried almost in vain to revive her. They watched the paramedics rolling her down the hall and vaguely remembered following in their cars behind the flashing lights of the ambulance.
Provenza kept an eye on Andy as he sat at his desk, back now facing what was his wife's office. Every time the man would pass his wife's office before sitting down, he would stare longingly at it, almost as if he was still searching for any sign that she was still there. Everything was left as it was the night Sharon was taken to the hospital. The blinds were open and there were still files stacked on her desk. There was a sense of naive hope in the air as if maybe they left her things the way they were, the sound of her heels would echo down the hall, and she would appear around the corner, wishing them good morning and handing out assignments.
As the new head of Major Crimes, Provenza was supposed to take her office, but he couldn't bear to do so. It felt wrong to slide her name plate off the door and replace it with his own. For him, it was like a final goodbye and he feared she would just be one more cop that had worked for the Los Angeles Police Department. She was once so feared they had called her Darth Raydor. She was the one who showed up at their crime scenes wearing her trench coat and giving orders. She threw wrenches in their detective work, gave them extra paperwork, and sent them to sensitivity training. He and Flynn spent countless hours bitching about 'The Wicked Witch' and even more so after she became their boss. When she became their boss they really got to know the type of woman she actually was. Yes, she was a firm believer of the rules and strict in enforcing them, but she cared. She cared a lot. She cared for her detectives like they were family, even though they spent years butting heads with one another. She took in a witness and raised him as if he were her son and then adopted him. When he became her friend he saw another side of her, a woman who loved to laugh and was so full of life. She married his best friend and he reminded Flynn just how lucky he was to have such a woman. Now, after years of dedicated service, she would be just another name on a buried HR list of people who no longer worked there.
Provenza told people he paid good money for his old desk from Parker Center and didn't want to go through the hassle of getting it moved. He also told people he wanted to be closer to the printer to make sure people were still paying him. While everyone knew that both his beloved desk and printer could be easily moved into the office, people accepted his excuse, knowing he needed his time to grieve and contently living in their own warped reality that maybe the Commander would be back.
As the weeks passed, they tried to fall back into their previous routine, or at least as much of it as they could. Provenza would arrive first, coffee in one hand and the lunch Patrice had packed for him in the other. Mike would show up shortly after, sitting down at his computer and delving right into whatever he had been working on the previous day. It was a tie between Julio and Amy of who would show up next, and Buzz was normally last as the area around his house was now under construction as he liked to remind them nearly every day. At some point, between Provenza arriving and switching on the lights, and Buzz complaining about construction workers, Andy would arrive. Quietly walking in and sitting at his desk. He barely spoke and when he did his voice was quieter than normal.
Then one Thursday, everything seemed off. Provenza had spilt his coffee in the car and as mad as he was at losing his coffee, it had soaked into his lunch bag, so he had a valid excuse to throw it away. Buzz arrived next, having left early to avoid the construction for once, and Mike walked in quickly behind him. Julio called to say he'd be late as he got a note saying he needed to speak with the principal at St. Joseph's about Mark. Provenza assured him it was fine and waved to Amy as she walked in. As the minutes passed, Andy had still not arrived. A feeling of dread grew in Provenza's gut and he tried to shake it off. The traffic in Los Angeles could be a nightmare. Flynn was probably stuck on an exit ramp somewhere, calling whoever was in front of him an 'idiot dirtbag'. Twenty minutes later, Julio walked in, apologizing for his late arrival.
"Where's Lieutenant Flynn?" Julio asked as he sat down, staring at the empty desk in the corner of the room. It was unlike Flynn to be late.
"I don't know" Provenza said, looking at his watch. "I thought he would be here by now."
Amy shrugged as she opened a file folder. "He's probably stuck in traffic." With each passing day, Sykes was becoming more annoyed with the LA traffic. She often considered moving somewhere else, but the job kept her here.
"Maybe there is construction in Los Feliz now, too," Buzz said bitterly as he walked over to Mike. "Here's the video from the convenience store that you wanted," he said, giving the DVD to the lieutenant. Mike thanked him and Buzz strolled to the back of the room to continue working on the rest of the video from the heist.
The sense of dread returned to Provenza as the ringing of the phone continued in his ear and he reached Flynn's voice mail for the second time. He pressed the number again and waited for the phone to dial the number back. Again, no answer. Provenza pressed his lips together and leaned forward on his desk. His phone was clasped tightly between his hands, unsure of what to do. Any other day, and maybe any other detective, he would have carried on with his day and chewed out whoever couldn't be bothered to show up on time whenever they decided to appear. But this felt different. It felt wrong.
"I'm going to go see if he overslept," Provenza said, standing from his desk. Out of habit he checked his pockets for his keys and pushed in his desk chair.
Julio stood as did Mike. "We'll go with you, sir," Julio said. Provenza only nodded in response. If something was wrong, he wasn't sure he would be able to handle it on his own. Julio slid into the driver's seat, pressing the gas pedal against the floor and switching on the sirens. He had seen the look on Provenza's face. Flynn was always on time, no matter what. Something wasn't right.
Provenza repeatedly pressed the elevator in the Los Feliz Towers building. As soon as the door chimed open, the three detectives hurried inside and Provenza began pressing the button to close the door. The elevator slowly climbed to the 11th floor and by the time Provenza had exited the elevator, Julio was already down the hall and knocking on the condo door.
"Hey, Flynn! You awake, man?" Julio shouted. "Open the door!"
Provenza pushed him aside, fumbling with his keys. He found his copy of their key and opened the door, shouting Flynn's name as he stepped inside. "You're late for work!" he shouted, looking around the living room. He waited for a response but never received one. He stared at the closed bedroom door and then at Tao and Sanchez who shared his same expression.
Hesitantly, Provenza opened the door and looked inside the bedroom. He could barely make out Flynn's sleeping form turned towards the window. Slowly he stepped into the room and stopped at the foot of the bed. "Andy?" he said. "Andy, wake up!" he tried again. Nothing. Provenza could feel himself begin to tremble and sat down in the chair that was next to the dresser. He could see Flynn holding onto to a pale purple blanket that he knew had belonged to Sharon.
Tao walked in after him and walked over to Andy. "Flynn?" he said, slowly reaching out and touching his shoulder. Tao's mouth opened a few times but nothing came out. Julio punched the door frame and headed out into the hall, slamming the bedroom door behind him. "Damnit!" they heard him yell and then there was silence.
"I knew she would be the end of him," Provenza's thick whisper as it cut through the heavy air that filled the room. "It's always the wife, it's always the wife, it's always the wife."
-fin-