Completely ignoring promos for next week. Warning, major spoilers ahead... Something short and sweet to compensate for tonights episode.
Andy managed to change before she simply stopped.
Her knees seemed to give out and she half fell, half sat on the bench before her locker.
Her vision blurred and she lost focus of the row of blue, metal doors before her.
Suddenly, today felt more like a dream than reality. A nightmare really.
The needle mark and the-just-starting-to-appear bruises around her neck throbbed in disagreement. Wincing, she rubbed absently at them as a few years trickled their way down her cheeks.
Jerry, bloody body sprawled on the floor, breath wheezing dangerously.
Andy cursed to herself as the picture flew through her mind once again, as it had for the past few hours, and drew her knees to her chest.
It had been two hours before she had managed to convince Traci to leave the hospital and the only reason Andy hadn't gone home with her, was because of the pounding head ache left over from the remnants of drugs and Oliver's offer to take care of it.
Sam's hands coated in his best friends blood, the haunted look on his face.
How did this happen? Why did this happen? Why, why, why?
Absently, Andy heard the door to the woman's locker room open and swing shut, but she didn't bother to turn her tear filled gaze. Moments later, a warm presence settled beside her silently.
Sam's hand moved, tentatively wrapping around hers and clenching convulsively.
"I'm so sorry Sam," Andy whispered. Inside, her heart went out to the man beside her, but outside, she remained still, just waiting.
After a long moment, Sam glanced down at her as she steadfastly stared in front of her. "Me too," he answered, his voice cracking slightly. Ducking his head, he regarded her slim hand intertwined with his and in his mind, all he saw was the blood covering his fingers. And that was his breaking point.
His body hunched and his eyes filled with tears and a heavy lump formed in his throat. Pressing his face into Andy's neck, all the grief that had burbling beneath the surface for hours found its escape. She didn't speak; simply dropped her feet to the floor in order to pull him in close and wrapped her arms tight around him.
Together they stayed, curled against one another on an uncomfortable locker room bench, and let the pain of loss roll over them. And together they comforted one another.