Well, I currently hate the writers for leaving the last episode the way they did. Evil little buggers… Anyway, this just jumped into my head after watching ep. 4X10 and it's been nagging me ever since. The way it end left me all moppy and sad, so I felt the overwhelming need to write something angsty. And instead of directing that into Fracture Lines, here I am. I very much hope you enjoy and don't feel the urge to throw large heavy objects at my head. I must admit that this came out a bit shakier than intended, but I really hope you will give it a chance! :) The rabid thought bunnies have latched on and there is no way in hell they'll be letting go anytime soon…
Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Rookie Blue.
It had been eighty seven days since he had been Sam Swarek. Eighty seven days since he had become another drug dealing low life as part of a UC operation. Eighty seven goddamn days since he had felt whole; felt alive. Eighty seven days since the last time he had seen her.
Those three months had been the longest of his life, stretching longer then he would've thought possible. The operation, the one that had supposed the have been for a few measly weeks, had become a month. Then two. Finally, after three months of grueling undercover, the target had been neutralized and he could finally return home. And see her.
At first, he had thrown himself into the job, hoping it would distract him from his thoughts of her. But to no use; she would always worm her way back in at night, when he tried to fall asleep. There was nothing he could do to remove her face from his mind, her laugh, her smile, her. Nothing.
If he had been given the chance, he would've dropped the operation right after month two. No one would hear a word of it. They continued to push him deep into the organization, not allowing him to get a moment of peace in their search for the right amount of evidence to bring the leaders done. In turn, he had built a careful shell around himself, becoming Ray Trafford as best as he could.
He had turned himself into the scum bag and worked his way into the inner circle. He put up the act of being a drunken womanizer for the most part, even though every woman he looked at seemed to repulse him. None of them even came close to her. But his act had been bought; he had slowly gained the trust of the leaders and become their personal runner for the most part, doling out much of their business.
And yet, with every breath he took, he missed her straight done to the core of his being. He missed her so much that it physically hurt at times. What was worse was that he had been the one to walk away. He had known that she hadn't felt the same way about him, had her five year plan and all that, so he had forced himself away so as to not face any more pain. It had ripped his heart to shreds, but had been what he believed the best action. For both of them. Eventually, he had come to accept this fact even while it crippled something deep inside.
Now he could go back.
Walking into the precinct, it felt like fifty pounds were removed from his shoulders and he could breathe right. It was one of the best things in the world. He navigated his way through the bullpen and towards the parade, knowing that's where Best had gathered everyone. He was a tad late, but it seemed they were just rapping up Parade now.
Best spotted him through the windows and a small smile graced his face, but he didn't stop in his orders. Pausing in the doorway, Sam waited at the back, his body pumping with adrenalin and causing him to shift from foot to foot anxiously. Try as he might, he couldn't see her as his sight was partially blocked by some other officer's back.
"And I am pleased to welcome back Officer Sam Swarek!" Best announce, gesturing for him to enter. He walked in slowly amongst the loud cheers and catcalls that emanated from the ranks of uniforms. He felt Oliver clap him on the back and applause rained in his ears, but he could only look for her.
It was only when he stood at the front of the room, shaking hands with the detectives, was he able to spot her. She was pressed into the far corner, away from all of the rookies, silent and unmoving. Brown eyes met his only briefly, yet felt like they were held for hours, before she turned and exited the room.
But he had seen the emptiness in her eyes and the shadows on her face. All he could do was wonder what had happened during those three long and awful months. Unfortunately, he couldn't follow her as he wished because Best dismissed everyone and they all exited at the same time, blocking anyway to go after her.
As soon as a doorway was clear, he made his way towards it, intent on finding her and saying things that had been burning in his chest for so long now. What he didn't see was Traci stepping out from the side. She stopped in front of him, causing him to jerk to a halt and glare at her.
"Don't. Whatever you do, don't go after her. She just put herself back together and you being here will simply undo any healing that's been happening. So, just don't." Traci's voice was soft and full of emotion, but before he could ask what she was talking about; she turned and walked away, leaving him alone in confusion and worry.
What had happened to Andy McNally that would leave her friends afraid for him to even see her? And why hadn't anyone told him?