Felt it was time to start another big one after Lingering Shadows.
A big thank you to MD14 for looking this over.
Hope you like it as much as I do.
The sun rises warmly on the backs of two silent figures.
Before them lay three mounds of dirt, each covered in the smattering of freshly grown grass. Each was marked with an identical square gravestone, all of which had only been in place for three months.
The living had also returned with those dead some three months ago.
Standing arm in arm, Andy McNally and Nick Collins are military stiff, keeping their vigil over their lost friends for just a little longer, communicating easily without words.
Six had left the sands of Afghanistan three months ago; three in body bags, two intact save for scars both on their bodies and their minds and one trapped in the depths of fear and loss so deeply, he had remained in a catatonic state since the army had placed them on that plane. Yesterday, Andy and Nick had visited Jack Sullivan in the military hospital and had tried to coax him into speaking once again. They had unsurprisingly failed.
Eventually, the sun appears fully above the horizon and Andy pokes her elbow gently into Nick's side.
"We should probably go now," she murmurs, her voice hoarse with all the emotions roiling within, the ones she would never let out. The ones neither of them could let out. "Don't want to be late for the first day of the rest of our lives."
"Too true," Nick answers quietly, his tone equally as rough. "Gotta make a good first impression."
There is a half-hearted snigger at that, but neither move for several more long minutes.
Breaking her stiff posture, Andy exhales softly and rests her head against Nick's shoulder, slouching into his solid support. Freeing his arm from between their bodies, Nick wraps it tightly around Andy's waist and drops his chin lightly on the top of her head.
"Bye guys," Andy whispers. "See you soon I guess."
"Later," Nick adds.
Then he turns and leads the way to the edge of the cemetery, still arm in arm, where two non-descript motorcycles wait.
Breaking apart, each heads for their respective bikes and slide on gracefully. Sharing a sad smile, they rev the engines and pull away from the field of the dead.
And head towards the Toronto Police Academy for their first day of training to become officers of the law.
.
13 Months Later
.
Sam scrubs a tired hand over his ragged face and stares at the reflection in the mirror.
The image there doesn't surprise him, although the heavy circles that appear like bruises under his eyes is a new look. But, Sam supposes those could likely be blamed on the weariness that filled his bones and the alcohol he had drank to accompany it last night.
Probably not the wisest move, considering today is his first day back on the street following his seven month-long stint undercover and week off post debrief. Technically, it is his first day back on the desk, not the streets, now that he was Detective Sam Swarek of Guns and Gangs. The promotion had only been in place for a few weeks before he had gone on the UC op, so the title and position were still slightly baffling.
A part of him misses the uniform in that second.
With a sigh that morphs into a soft growl, Sam fills the sink before him with icy water and splashes it onto his face, wincing when some of the liquid trails down his chest and prickles gooseflesh.
Ignoring the quick rap at the door (it was only Oliver, and he would just let himself in anyway), Sam rubs away the cold water with a cloth and leaves the bathroom. Snagging his duffle from the bed, he makes his way to the kitchen and is completely unsurprised to see that Oliver has already made himself at home, chugging away at a mug of coffee and reading the paper.
"That's mine," Sam remarks drily and Oliver looks up with a grin.
"The coffee or the paper? And either way it's your own damn fault for leaving the coffee out in the open. You and I both know you have the best stuff around. And say thanks to Sarah for it, by the way," Oliver shoot back, taking another smug sip.
Then he looks Sam up and down and the smirk dampens.
"Brother, you look like hell," Oliver tells him pointedly, something concerned creeping into his voice.
"Thanks Ollie, it's good to see you too," Sam fires back, pulling another mug from the shelf and filling it with still-warm coffee from the pot. He sucks down the first half like medicine and ignores Oliver's searching gaze.
"Fine than, be like that. So, first day back; Jerry's been whiny for months. Please tell me you'll fix it," Oliver asks pleadingly, eyes wide with what Sam could only imagine Oliver believes and hopes is sorrow.
Which pulls a laugh from Sam at the sight, knowing all too well what Oliver said is likely true.
"I'll see what I can do," Sam tells his friend with amusement clear in his tone. "But you know how Jerry is."
Oliver groans and nods, false disappointment etched into his features.
"Let's get going," Sam says after a few moments of comfortable silence where the two men sip their coffee. Dropping his finished coffee mug into the sink to be washed later, Sam takes the nearly empty cup from Oliver's hands, ignoring the indignant protests, and adds it next to his own. Sam takes one look at Oliver's pout and rolls his eyes fondly, before leading the way to the door.
"Oh, by the way, 15 got a new batch of rookies while you were under," Oliver begins conversationally as they make their way to where the Shaw minivan is parked in Sam's driveway.
Sam's truck is currently in the shop; after spending months parked in Sarah's garage in St. Catherine's with minimal use, Sam had discovered its alignment was off the first day he drove it home. With a few mumbled curses, he had taken it to the shop two days ago, only to be informed that it was time for the truck to undergo a full oil change and maintenance. And it still wasn't ready, much to Sam's displeasure.
All of which amounted to another day riding the Minivan Express with Oliver.
Dropping himself into the passenger seat, Sam shrugs on the seatbelt and gestures for Oliver to continue.
"Yeah? They any good?"
"Well, two of them, Epstein and Diaz, are basically idiots. I mean, they mean well and they're trying, but I honestly never thought I would see a pair of rookies who would screw up as much as they do since we were rooks. It would almost be laughable if it wasn't sad."
Sam snorts and stares out the window as the streets of Toronto fly by.
"Any others?" he asks, something at the back of his neck beginning to prickle.
"Yeah, two more," there's a pause and Sam misses the look Oliver shoots him out of the corner of his eye.
Oliver clears his throat and continues. "These two, they are some of the best rooks I've seen in years."
"Really?" Sam presses when Oliver falls silent again, shifting his gaze from outside to peer at his friend. Sam knows that this was high praise when it came from Ollie and is instantly intrigued.
"Yeah. They're both ex-military and pick up on things faster than some of the senior officers. And they actually listen to orders."
Chuckling at the slight reverence in Oliver's proclamation, Sam shakes his head and goes back to staring out the window, the prickle in his gut easily ignored.
"Sammy, there's one more thing," Oliver begins hesitantly.
"Yeah?"
"Just thought I should warn you ahead of time; one of the good rookies is… Andy."
Sam goes completely still and his heart starts to hammer like a drum in his ears. Out of anything Oliver could have possibly said, this was the lowest on the list. And certainly the one most likely to stun him to speechlessness.
Andrea McNally is at 15 Division.
The last time he had seen her was nearly five years ago.
And it had been five years ago since she had walked out of his apartment without a backward glance and he had gone undercover the next day, knowing in his bones she wouldn't be back.
Not after the fight that broke them.
But he had never expected, once he came back from one of his shorter undercover, with the echoing remnants of loss and love still in his heart, for her to be gone. Not just moved out of her small apartment on the outskirts of the city and into a place somewhere closer to school (U of T, taking a bachelor of political sciences when Sam had first met her), but gone from the city.
Gone from the country.
Sam had learned from her father, in broken bits of angry (and drunken, which saddened Sam, knowing how hard Andy had tried to get her dad sober), conversation, that Andy had dropped out of school shortly after Sam had departed and enlisted in the Canadian Forces. And had shipped off to Afghanistan with her unit mere days before Sam came back.
(He still and always would regret not following her out his door that night and could not believe how he had missed her by only a mile and a minute as they say).
Sam had been under the belief for years that he would never see Andy again.
Seemed like the universe is conspiring against him once more.
*A/N: To clarify the AU timeline: five years in the past, Sam and Andy had a blow out fight just a handful of months into their relationship which resulted in her walking out and him taking a UC position he'd been offered and declined previously, the next day. When he comes back, about seven weeks later, Andy is gone. She remains in the army for three and a half years before being shipped home and the story begins about three months after that.*
Any and all comments/concerned are greatly welcomed.
A/N 2: updated 07/05/2017 (because I can't seem to write in past tense anymore and I'm gearing up for a new chapter...)