AN: Okay, this plot bunny hit after last week's episode and hasn't let go. I'm sorry.
In the dim light of her room, Sharon could just barely make out the silhouette of the pill bottle on her nightstand. It reflected the red lights of her clock and gave her enough light to make a general guess as to how many pills were left. She couldn't remember the exact reason why they had been prescribed for her a few months back. A sprained ankle from a case or something, she thought, but she couldn't be bothered to force her mind to focus long enough to remember.
Her eyes drifted closed to block out the bottles and the light, but flashes of gunfire lit up the darkness behind her eyelids. She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes to further drown herself in darkness, but it only made the memories brighter: Dwight's lingering grin, the crimson stains on Taylor's and Morales' shirts, the overwhelming amount of death in blood in the room.
A sob tore through her body and she curled up on her bed, arms tightly wrapping around Andy's pillow. She pressed her face into it to stifle a second sob and all was quiet for a moment before she felt something inside her break. Her body shook and trembled as she sobbed, clinging to the pillow as if it was the only thing holding her to reality and to life.
By the time the torrent ceased, an overwhelming exhaustion had settled deep into her bones. Without her glasses, she couldn't make out the time on the clock, but she knew Andy was due back from his AA meeting soon. Blindly, she reached out and closed her fingers around the bottle of pills. She propped herself up on her elbow and unscrewed the cap, carefully shaking out two white pills. In the darkness and silence, she stared at them and then poured out a handful more.
With every blink, a flash of memories assaulted her. Taylor, Dwight, Andy, Judge Richwood, nameless strangers. She could count the bullets with each blink and the gunshots echoed in her ears, churning her already twisted stomach. When she felt the pressure rising in her chest again and threatening to burst, she downed the pills and followed them with a few gulps of water.
Slowly, she laid back on the bed. Her body was tangled in the blankets and she cradled Andy's pillow close, searching for any remaining piece of him she could use for comfort. Finding none, she closed her eyes and silently begged and prayed for the memories to stop.
When her eyes opened again, she felt like she was engulfed in wool, everything muted and distant. It took a few moments of blinking for her eyes to focus in as much as they could in the absence of her glasses, but the white ceiling above her provided no aid. The longer she kept her eyes open, the more the wool started to pull back. She could hear a still-muted beeping nearby and the quiet rumble of a conversation. Slowly, she raised her head a little and a low groan slipped out. Her head fell back to the thin pillow that she registered wasn't her own.
She licked her lips and grimaced at how dry her mouth was and attempted to form a word, but no sound came out. Instead, she felt a warmth close around her hand and squeeze gently.
"Sharon..." She registered Andy's voice and moved her eyes so she could see him. The bags beneath his eyes and the worry on his face confused her as he watched her. "I'm glad you're awake."
"Awake?" she repeated, cringing at how raspy her voice came out. She felt a headache starting to pound behind her eyes and her growing confusion didn't help.
"Now that you're awake, the doctor wants to talk to you... I'll be right here, okay?" His voice was gentle, closer to the tone he used with victims.
"Andy..." He shook his head and disappeared from her view. He returned a few moments later with a woman she assumed was the doctor. "What...?"
"I'm just going to ask you a few questions, Sharon." The doctor's voice was gentle as she took the seat by Sharon's bed. "Do you remember what happened?"
Sharon shook her head and let her eyes close. Her stomach rolled and she was worried she wouldn't be able to keep her stomach contents. It passed after a moment, but a sick realization remained instead. One she couldn't vocalize and didn't want to think about.
"Do you remember?" Her doctor prompted gently. It took another few moments before Sharon managed a nod. "Can you tell me?"
"I... I took a few pain pills." Her voice was barely audible, her eyes focused on nothing in particular, but definitely not Andy or the doctor. "For a headache," she added after a moment. A small, partial lie, she justified.
"How many?"
She couldn't even think to look at Andy, unsure of what she'd see there. Disappointment, grief, disgust? "I-I didn't count..." She knew she was avoiding the question and couldn't keep going for long. A doctor knew better and she was too tired.
"More than two?"
"Yeah," she admitted, her voice even softer. She closed her eyes after a moment and her stomach rolled again, as if she needed another reminder of how badly she had gone wrong.
"Was your headache the sole reason for taking those pills?" A cleverly disguised suicide question and Sharon said nothing until Andy cleared his throat.
"I just wanted to forget," she whispered, "I wanted to stop seeing everything every time I close my eyes." Her voice broke and she squeezed her eyes closed, her fingers tightly tangling in the hospital sheets.
"Thank you, Sharon." She heard her doctor and Andy move toward the door, but they remained in earshot.
"She doesn't have any history of mental illness or suicide attempts," her doctor murmured. "I'll release her to go home, but I want someone with her. And I highly recommend seeking out someone for her to talk to."
"Okay." Andy's voice held that same tone she had trouble recognizing, but he was back by her side before she could think about it too much. "I'm gonna take you home, Sharon..."
"Thank you," she managed, opening her eyes to look at him. Along with his tone, she couldn't make out the expression his eyes held either. She felt the urge to apologize, but buried it along with her confusion.
They were both quiet as he helped her into her clothes; she was unnerved to discover how unsteady she was on her feet, but relieved Andy was there with her. Few words were said on the drive home and it wasn't until they were settled back in bed that Andy finally looked at her.
"Why didn't you talk to me?" She said nothing and instead curled up tightly in the blanket, tangling her fingers in the fabric to stop their shaking. Here again, she could feel her memories returning, the pressure building up in her chest. Before it could burst, Andy wrapped her in his arms and securely held her against his chest. The protection from the blanket and the warmth from his body pushed the pressure down and she sucked in a few unsteady breaths. "You're okay," he murmured against her hair. "You're safe and you're here and you're okay. Do you hear me?"
She nodded against his chest and managed to curl up even more, trying to envelope herself in him as much as possible. He complied and held her closer, his head pressed against hers. Surrounded by his warmth, her eyes drifted shut. No memories greeted her, but she could feel that they weren't far away. A part of her started to get sucked back in, but he pushed closer to Andy and resolved to relish the few moments she had and pray that Andy would be there to help her in the morning.