Everything I Failed To Be

Chapter Ten


Time: June 6 1999

For the last ten days they had been cooped up at Andy Flynn's house, surrounded by cops 24 hours a day with no opportunity to escape even for a short while and with no idea of how long this situation would last. It wasn't their home, they didn't have many of their things with them and they didn't know any of the people around them. The circumstances were frightening even for her, and with everything they had been through these past few months, Sharon wasn't surprised to see one of her children blow up. The fact that it was Emily wasn't surprising, either.

She was the cautious one of her children. Where Ricky effortlessly got along with everyone and was quick to adapt to new circumstances, Emily was skeptical of unfamiliar people and reluctant to open up. She didn't trust easily, but once she did open up to someone, she put her heart and soul into it. Emily also had quite the temper if she felt she wasn't being treated fairly. It burned hot and fast, but it was gone just as quickly. She said a lot of things during those outbursts, which she later regretted and apologized for. It was a well-rehearsed routine by now, as her temper had gotten a lot of stage time since Emily hit puberty.

After being told once again that going to her friend's birthday was not an option, Emily had turned the full force of her anger and frustration on her mother, her voice loud enough to entertain the entire block. At some point, when the words that left her mouth had turned towards hurtful, Andy had entered the kitchen, a thunderous look on his face. So far he had always kept out of their little arguments, leaving her kids' frustrations for her to deal with. Up until that moment he hadn't seen the full force of teenage outrage, though. He practically pushed Sharon aside, standing almost nose to nose with her daughter.

Sharon didn't listen to the words that flew back and forth, too mesmerized by the sight in front of her. Her hand grabbed blindly for the kitchen counter behind her, her breath caught in her throat. She had always known, had recognized that look on her daughter's face even when Emily had been a toddler, but to see them like this, brown eyes locked in an intense stare and angry voices attempting to gain the upper hand – it was overwhelming and slightly surreal.

Sharon felt lightheaded and on the verge of hysterical laughter. The rational part of her brain informed her that the stress of the last few months was catching up with her. Witnessing this spectacle did not exactly serve to reduce her stress levels, so she curled her hands into fists, nails digging into palms, and drew a deep breath before doing something she very rarely did. She raised her voice enough to be heard over the tireless yelling.

"Enough!"

The unusual action got their attention and two pairs of startled, brown eyes stared at her. She closed her eyes for a few seconds, drawing strength from the sudden silence, before she fixed them on her daughter.

"Emily, I want you to go to your room and calm down, and I don't want to see or hear you until dinner."

The girl inhaled, ready to protest, but Sharon's narrowed eyes and raised hand made her rethink that course of action. Instead she crossed her arms over her chest and glared silently.

"We already talked about this. You know the reason why I can't let you go to Julia's party, and no amount of yelling or sulking will change that. Now go cool off and think very carefully what your next words should be."

A huff and pointed eye-roll later, Emily retreated to the guestroom, her stomping and the slamming door a last protest.

Sharon touched a hand to her forehead, closing her eyes against the headache that was making itself at home behind them.

"I'm sorry, Andy. You shouldn't have to put up with this. She's scared and frustrated and…"

Andy interrupted her with a brief brush of his hand against her arm, his voice once again calm, every trace of his earlier irritation gone.

"She's a teenager, Sharon. They open their mouths and words come out, and most of the time those words aren't good. She just doesn't understand how dangerous this situation is. You can tell her, and intellectually, she'll know what's at stake, but at that age sense and good judgment are in short supply. It's our job to make those unpopular decisions for our kids, whether they like it or not. This will surely not have been the last fight, but we will get through this."

Nodding slowly, Sharon gave him a small smile, grateful for his understanding. The silence that followed turned uncomfortable quickly. The forced closeness, the domesticity of living under one roof, made her feel awkward more often than not. She didn't know how to act when she was alone with him.

With the children in the room she was primarily mother, a role she was comfortable with, and Andy easily fit into that dynamic.

Whenever his colleagues were here and they talked about the case, she was the lawyer, drawing strength from rationally analyzing the tiniest detail. She knew what to do in that situation, her relationship with Andy clearly defined in that context.

When they were alone, however, there were no lines, no definitions. All they had between them in those moments were uncomfortable silences, awkwardness, and too many old memories and regrets.

Remembering her original reason for being in the kitchen, Sharon gestured towards the stove and the vegetables assembled next to it, waiting to be cut.

"I'd better get back to working on dinner if we want to eat anytime today."

She avoided looking at him directly, but saw him nod out of the corner of her eye. He was just as uncomfortable as she and seemed relieved to have a reason to retreat.

"Yeah, I'll go look through some files Provenza brought over. Unless… Is there anything I can help you with?"

Sharon shook her head, trying not to let him see how much she wanted to be alone right now.

"Thank you, but there's not a lot to do here."

Turning around, Sharon focused her attention on the dinner preparations, absentmindedly listening to Andy's retreating footsteps.

After some initial struggling, they had found a domestic arrangement that somehow worked for them. The first couple of days, Andy had treated Sharon and her kids like guests in his house, insisting on doing the cooking and cleaning himself. On the third day, Sharon had been ready to climb the walls with nothing to take her mind off of their situation. They had had their first fight in seventeen years over who would do the dishes that night. In the end, Andy had relented, finally understanding that she badly needed something to do, and that it would be best if her children got their share of the chores the way they did at home. It would give them at least some sense of normalcy in this chaotic time.

Sharon was not a born housewife, and not being able to go to work every day had a severe impact on her mood. Taking care of the kids and Andy, the officers who were assigned to watch the house, and the detectives that came and went to discuss the case and keep them updated, took up most of her time, but it failed to engage her mind sufficiently. She still had too much time to worry.

They would often include her in their briefings, asking her questions about the Connollys', anything that would help them put an end to their criminal activities and make sure they would never be able to hurt anyone again. Her information was not particularly useful at the moment, because it only implicated Mr. Connolly and one of his sons, and for no more than assault, since she had not witnessed the actual murder of their bookkeeper, nor could she be sure that the man that had been beaten up while she had retrieved her files had actually been the missing bookkeeper. She could say in front of a judge that Connolly senior had threatened her and her children, and then there was the breaking and entering, but they were certain that it would have been done by some of his goons instead of him or his sons. They needed more evidence to make sure that they could put the entire clan away for good or they would risk putting Sharon and her children in even more danger.

It frustrated her that there was nothing she could do to speed things up. She was not used to being passive, to sitting back and letting other people take care of things for her. At least Andy had managed to convince his partner to bring her work computer and a stack of files from her home so that she could do something useful. There was not a lot of work she could do without meeting with clients or colleagues, but whatever could be done from home or via email or phone, she did, just as her children tried to keep up to date with their schoolwork with whatever information their classmates could pass on to them.

Their circumstances were less than ideal, and at some point Sharon and Andy would have to address whatever it was that was still between them, as the awkwardness increased with each passing day, but for the moment they were dealing with the situation one day at a time. It was the best they could do.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Sharon stood at the bottom of the stairs and yelled for her children to come down for dinner. She hoped Emily had calmed down enough to be civil at the table. It was not as if Sharon didn't understand her daughter's frustration with their situation, but her own nerves were getting close to their breaking point, and there was only so much more teenage attitude she was willing to put up with.

Stopping by the living room, she quickly leaned into the door to see if Andy had heard her. He was already busy packing up his files, looking up when he saw her.

"I'll be right there."

She gave him a soft smile and walked back into the kitchen, busying herself with setting the table. Andy was the first to join her. He placed his hands on her shoulders and gently moved her aside as she tried to reach the plates. He kept them in the topmost cupboard, which was so ridiculously high up that she always had trouble getting to them. Handing her the desired items with a grin, Andy turned towards the stove and eyed the vegetable stir-fry, sniffing cautiously.

After placing the plates on the table, Sharon turned back towards the counter and caught a disappointed look flitting over his face. She couldn't help but smile at the sight. He was such a guy when it came to food, just like Ricky. And her husband, a small voice inside her head supplied unbidden.

When Andy turned towards her with a pout on his face, Sharon pushed him aside and opened the oven to retrieve the grilled chicken. His lips immediately stretched into a happy smile. She set the pan on the table, hiding her own smile at his predictable reaction. He followed her with the vegetables and potatoes. They had just set everything down when Ricky padded through the door and plunked himself into his seat.

"Hey, where's your sister?" Sharon asked.

The only answer she got was a disinterested shrug as her son poured himself a glass of orange juice. Sharon sighed, seeing a long, frustrating discussion with her sulking daughter in her immediate future, followed by cold dinner. She gestured at the food and told the guys to start eating before she left to drag her daughter out of her room.

Sharon knocked on the door softly and called out to Emily. She gave her a moment to answer, before she opened the door and peered into the room. When she couldn't spot her daughter anywhere, Sharon opened the door wider and called her once again. She walked around the room, opening the closet door to see if she had hidden in there. It was something she had done when she was little. Finding it empty, just like the rest of the room, Sharon strode across the hall to check the bathroom, but the door was ajar and the room dark. She switched on the light and checked, regardless. When she found it empty, a bad feeling started to settle in her stomach like a heavy rock. Calling Emily's name once more, louder this time and maybe with a hint of concern, Sharon checked the other rooms on the first floor.

"Is everything alright?"

Andy's voice floated up the stairs, followed by the man himself. Having checked the entire first floor without locating her daughter, Sharon walked towards him, a worried frown on her forehead.

"I don't know. Emily isn't in her room or anywhere else up here."

Sharon saw her concern reflected in his eyes, but Andy laid a calming hand on her arm, as they turned to head downstairs again.

"Let's check downstairs. Maybe she needed some air and went to sit on the porch."

Andy's house came with a beautiful backyard surrounded by a high fence and a generous wooden porch wrapped around the back. A few wicker chairs stood to one side, surrounding a small table. A couple of comfortable deck chairs stood on the other side of the door.

When Sharon and Andy stepped out of the back door, the porch was deserted, though, as was the garden. With every place they checked without finding the girl, Sharon's desperation grew. Emily wasn't the type to hide. When she was annoyed, she retreated to her room to sulk. It was her space and she knew she always had her privacy there – within reason, of course. Sharon had never given her kids a reason to hide from her.

As living room, study, and guest bathroom turned out to be empty, desperation made room for panic. Emily wasn't in the house. Sharon stopped in the hallway outside the kitchen, one hand braced against the wall, her eyes closed, as she tried to keep breathing.

The disturbing images she had been able to keep at the back of her mind at first had become more and more present as room after room was searched. Now they assaulted her full force. Her daughter showing up beaten up and bleeding in front of their door. Her scared voice over the phone, crying for help. A body half-sunken in moist earth, almost unrecognizable with blood and bruises. A lifeless body on a metal table, blue-lipped and grey-skinned, surrounded by cold, harsh light and the nauseating smell of the morgue. Or maybe the worst of all – never knowing at all.

Sweat stood out on her forehead, her body hot, almost feverish with worry, before a shiver of cold terror ran down her spine. The edges of her vision started to darken, spots dancing in front of her eyes as every breath was harder to draw than the last. Sharon recognized the signs of an impending panic attack, but she was helpless to prevent it. Her baby was gone. It was a breathless mantra that kept repeating itself in her mind.

Sharon almost screamed when firm hands grabbed her shoulders and shook her lightly. It took a moment before she could make sense of the insistent voice that belonged to the hands.

"Sharon, look at me! You've got to breathe."

Andy's eyes locked onto hers, warmth and compassion shining from their brown depth. She tried to follow his order, her lungs protesting as she forced more air into them than they were willing to take. Gradually, the dizziness and disorientation receded, leaving her empty and cold.

She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to find an anchor in Andy's steady gaze. Her thoughts were still running around in circles, unanswered questions and frightening images warring for attention, making her tremble uncontrollably.

When she was drawn against Andy's solid form, Sharon tensed for a moment before she gave in to the comfort his warmth offered. Her head resting against his chest, she let him calm her slightly, his hands drawing soothing circles on her back.

A few minutes later she had regained the ability to breathe again, the dizziness and nausea receding. She stepped away from him, her eyes on the ground between them. She was embarrassed at having let him see her so weak.

Andy gave her another few seconds to collect herself before he got back to the issue at hand. He touched her shoulder again to draw her attention before he spoke.

"Okay, listen. We would have heard it if someone had come into the house to take her. I'm pretty sure she wouldn't have gone with anyone without putting up a fight. That means she probably sneaked out to go to that party she's been going on about for days, although I have no idea how she got past the officers outside. What's the name of that kid and where does she live?"

Sharon felt a little better as she thought about Andy's words. He was right, of course. Emily had been talking about that birthday party for days and she had been angry earlier. She closed her eyes for a second, recalling the details she had seen on the invitation two weeks ago.

"Her name is Julia Walters. I don't remember the address, but I have the phone number in my address book. I'll give her mother a call."

As it turned out, the Walters only lived a twenty minute walk away, and Andy immediately sent a patrol car after her, hoping to catch her on the way. All they were able to do was wait for a call – either from Mrs. Walters, who had promised to get back to them as soon as Emily showed up, or from the officers who were sent out to find her.

Neither Sharon nor Andy were particularly patient people. Andy paced around the house like a caged animal, randomly picking things up and setting them down again. Sharon tried to cover her nervousness with straightening out the living room and kitchen, Cleaning up after two teenagers and a longtime bachelor always left something to do.

Fifteen minutes later, Andy was on the phone with one of the patrol officers, his tone leaving no doubt about his state of mind, and Sharon had started to scrub the kitchen cabinets.

Twenty minutes later, Andy had gone on to yell at the officers stationed outside his front door for letting a 16 year-old girl outsmart them, while Sharon had finally given up on housework when the cabinets were the cleanest they had probably been since leaving the store.

Half an hour later, she was back to feeling dizzy and nauseous, as she realized that it was unlikely that Emily would just turn up. Either she had gotten lost on the way or… Sharon didn't want to think about the other possibility, but with every minute that passed without news, it got harder and harder to discount that possibility.

Ricky was uncharacteristically clingy through all this. Once he had realized that his sister was in serious trouble, he had stuck to his mother's side. His attempts at helping her clean had only lasted a short while before Sharon had told him to sit down and stay out of the way. Usually, she would encourage any and all voluntary housework, but she simply had no patience for having him standing in the way in her current frame of mind. She handed him one of the comics he had brought with him and asked him to just keep her company. He had sat at the kitchen table for a long time, quietly reading. His eyes had sought her out every other minute, worry creasing his brow, and she had wished for a way to make him feel better.

When the phone finally rang, both Sharon and Andy almost jumped out of their skins. They simultaneously reached for the phone, almost colliding as they rushed towards the table. Andy gave her a look through narrowed eyes before he picked up the receiver and growled a tense "Flynn" into it.

Sharon watched his face intently, trying to discern the other end of the conversation from his gruff replies and the grim look on his face. She swallowed the bile that rose in her throat as it became clear that the news wasn't good. They had found something and it wasn't good, that much she could tell.

Gripping Andy's free arm with both hands, she gave him a pleading look, tears already pooling in her eyes as she saw her poor baby alone and lifeless on the cold ground somewhere out there in the dark.

He tore his eyes away from the little dent in the coffee table they had been fixed on to meet hers. Shaking his head, he placed his hand on her back in support and reassurance. Wrapping the call up soon after with a demand to be called as soon as they knew more, Andy put the phone down again and led Sharon over to the sofa.

Once they were both seated, slightly turned towards each other, their knees touching, she tightened her grip on his arm once again.

"Andy, what did they find? It's not… She's not…"

She couldn't bring herself to say it out loud. Andy shook his head when he saw where her thoughts were taking her, putting his hand over hers.

"They haven't found Emily, yet. They found a gift-wrapped package at the side of the road, and the birthday card that was attached to it indicated that it's Emily's."

If possible, Sharon's face paled even more at his words and Andy wished that he had anything at all to make her feel better. It was one thing when the parents he was dealing with were strangers, when he didn't know the missing child beyond what their investigation had revealed about them. This case was different, though. For one thing, it wasn't really his case anymore. What had started as a fairly routine investigation into the illegal practices of some smalltime criminals with big ambitions had become so deeply entangled with his own life that he couldn't possibly tell where one ended and the other began.

Sharon wasn't just some distraught mother and Emily not another runaway teenager. Sharon might have been a lawyer for many years, but before that, she had been one of them. She knew the realities of crime statistics, the likely outcomes of cases like that, and she could connect clues and draw conclusions just as well as any other cop. Then there was the additional complication of their shared past. They had meant something to one another once, had been close enough to seriously consider ending their marriages, and the forced closeness of the last few weeks brought back many hidden and bitter-sweet memories.

In addition to getting reacquainted with his old partner and discovering all the big and small ways in which she had changed, he had gotten to know her children. Although their petulant attitude annoyed him, they had grown on him. His own children still didn't like spending time with him, so maybe this illusion of family was what drew him in more than anything else. Whatever the reasons, and however ill-advised his increasing emotional involvement in their fate might be, Andy was too far gone down that particular road to back out now. He felt Sharon's pain and fear, and it was difficult to take a step back and look at the situation through the eyes of Lieutenant Flynn instead of Andy's.

Andy wanted to hold Sharon, tell her everything would be all right before jumping into his car and tear the city apart until he found Emily. Lieutenant Flynn needed to present all the facts to the agitated mother in front of him, calm her down as much as possible and make sure she didn't do something stupid – like jumping into her car and tear the city apart to find her daughter.

Deciding on something in between those two options, he squeezed her trembling hand, making sure to keep his voice calm and reassuring as he tried to point out the positive aspects of their findings. She didn't need help seeing the other, more realistic side.

"There was no blood at the scene and no signs of struggle. That's good news, Sharon. Maybe something startled her and she ran. There's still a chance she'll turn up unharmed. I bet she's figured out by now that sneaking out wasn't the brightest idea. It's possible that she's just scared to come home and face the music. It really is too early to draw any conclusions."

She nodded, her eyes focused on their joined hands. Sharon knew that he was trying to make her feel better, to ease the worry as much as he could, but as much as she wanted to believe his words, she couldn't. For the first time she wished that she didn't know the other side of this game, hadn't been the one to deliver news like that, attempting to keep a balance between hope and realism. It was a tactic that didn't work on her; not when the evidence was clearly pointing in a very specific and frightening direction. They were only waiting for confirmation at this point, maybe a phone call or a letter, any sort of message informing them that Emily had fallen into the hands of the people Sharon was supposed to testify against.

Confirmation came several hours later, shortly before dawn, in the form of a note that was delivered to Andy's house. The officers stationed outside had intercepted a little boy as he had tried to approach the house and had brought him and the message he carried inside.

The initial excitement at a possible new lead vanished towards noon, when the means of delivery turned out to be a dead end and the note itself didn't provide any forensic evidence apart from the prints of the boy who had brought it.

While they waited, Sharon tried her very best to keep it together, being aware that a hysterical mother having a nervous breakdown would not be particularly helpful, but the hold she had on her good intentions started to slip when they told her that, despite the very explicit threat against Emily's life, Sharon's testimony against these people might be their best, if not their only chance of finding her.

After briefing them on the less than satisfying results on the note, Lieutenant Provenza had given his partner a meaningful look and left them alone to return to his work. Apparently, Andy had been nominated to convince her that having her testify in front of a judge as soon as possible was the best course of action. Sharon listened to his words, disbelief rendering her mute as he tired to appeal to her rationality with his calm tone and careful words. With every word he spoke, her anger increased until she thought it would choke her. Did he really mention her civic duty and her integrity as a former officer and a part of the legal system? When he pointed out that it was her responsibility as a parent to provide a good example for her children by doing what was right, she could not take it any longer. She jumped up from her place at the dining room table, hands on hips, glaring at him.

"How dare you bring my children into this? You have no right to make them part of this discussion. Not when it is thanks to you and your partner that their lives got turned upside down. They had to leave their home and can't go to school or see their friends. We were doing fine before you decided to barge into our lives and drag us all into this mess."

Sharon felt her heart pounding at an increasingly rapid pace, blood roaring in her ears. At the very back of her consciousness she was aware that her words were not exactly rational, but that part of her mind was being overruled by fear and anger. The latter emotion was quickly jumping over to Andy, his eyes darkening as he rose from his chair to face her.

"You're not seriously blaming us for your involvement in criminal activity, are you? You've got to be kidding me! If you're looking for someone to blame, I'd suggest your idiot husband. He's the one who got you into this mess in the first place. If I were in your position, I'd be very careful with my accusations. You came to us, it was your decision to work with us in exchange for our protection and you'd do well not to forget that."

His voice had lost the last trace of calm reassurance, its volume steadily rising until he was yelling at her, provoking the same in response.

"I don't need your protection, I can take care of myself, but you promised to protect my children and you didn't. You let them get to Emily and now you expect me to make a decision that will put the life of my daughter on the line, just because you can't figure out how to do your job. If you believe that I'll say one word to help you put those people away before my daughter is safe, you don't know me very well. Once I've testified against those people, there is nothing keeping them from killing Emily. I'm not doing it."

Andy threw his arms in the air in frustration as he turned and started pacing.

"Oh that's just great! So your spoiled brat can't contain her rebellious teenage nature for a couple of weeks and everything we've worked on these past months goes down the drain? I don't think so! I've put up with her attitude, her petulance and her temper tantrums for almost two weeks and you haven't heard me complain once, but this time she went too far. Maybe if you had taught her that actions have consequences, she would've used her brain before running off like an idiot. Well, I guess that's a lesson she's gonna have to learn the hard way now."

Sharon stared at him open-mouthed, trying to overcome her shock at his cruel words long enough to rip him to pieces. When she finally found her voice, the words that came out in an angry shout were far from what she had intended to say.

"Well, just so you know, that spoiled brat you're talking about is your daughter, so maybe you want to reconsider your attitude towards her current situation."

Her unplanned statement was followed by dumbfounded silence. They both stared at one another, considering the implications of her words. The moment her mouth had closed, Sharon regretted what she had said. She had never wanted him to know, had not intended to drag their past out into the harsh light like this. It was out there now, though, and they would have to deal with it. She dreaded his reaction, barely daring to breathe as he processed what he had just heard.

His shocked expression unsettled her and she wished he would speak, while at the same time fearing his words. When she could no longer stand his lack of reaction, she lowered her gaze to the ground and pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to alleviate her almost mind-numbing headache. She noticed that her hands were shaking, but did not have the strength to try and hide that fact from him. Instead she turned her back towards him and walked to the large windows that overlooked the backyard.

She felt his eyes on her, the intensity of his stare making her skin prickle. His anger had been temporarily calmed by shock, but it was beginning to rise inside him again, rolling off him in thick waves that threatened to drown her. This time, she could not even blame him.

"And you didn't think I had a right to know?" He practically yelled at her, making her jump slightly, even though she had expected it. "Hell, it's been almost seventeen years. In all this time, you couldn't find a moment to give me a call and mention that we have a child together?"

Her shoulders slumped under the heavy weight of his accusations and the guilt she had carried for so many years. Andy was right, of course. She should have told him. Looking back, she was reasonably sure that they would have worked something out, but at the time she had been too hurt to even think about contacting him.

"You're right," she whispered, tugging her cardigan around her for comfort. "I should have called you when I found out that I was pregnant. I am sorry that I didn't. I wasn't even sure if she was yours until later, when she began to look like you more and more."

Behind her, Andy let out a long breath, relaxing his tense stance slightly. Knowing that he was finally ready to listen, she turned around to face him once again, raising tired eyes to meet his.

"What was I supposed to do, Andy? You had gone back to be with Amanda. You had made your choice, and as much as I was hurting, I didn't want to pressure you into coming back to me. I knew you would leave her if I told you I was expecting your child, but I was afraid that you would end up resenting me. I didn't want you to be with me out of pity or a sense of obligation. That wouldn't have been fair to either one of us."

He took a few steps towards her, closing the distance between them, and caressing her arms gently. "It wouldn't have been like that," he rasped, pulling her into a tender embrace, his hands stroking up and down her back in a soothing rhythm. "It was Amanda I had gone back to out of obligation. It was her I resented in the end, and I never stopped wondering if I made the right decision." They stood in each other's arms for a long while, silence and painful memories between them, a familiar force, drawing them together and keeping them at a distance at the same time. "I wanted nothing more than for you to change your mind. I wish I had known. I wish I could've been the one to take care of you."

Her face was resting against his chest, and he felt the warmth of her breath through the thin layer of fabric as she fought for control. Her whispered words were almost lost in the soft folds of his shirt.

"I wanted you. You sent me away, and all I wanted was you. Now I'm losing her too, and she was all I had left. She's just like you. She isn't going to listen. She's too impulsive. She'll lose her temper, and they'll hurt her… I can't lose her too. I lost everything else we had, but I can't lose her too."

Her hands held onto his shirt, twisting the material in a firm grip. Her entire body trembled with fear and desperation and it left him feeling helpless. He wanted to promise her that they'd find Emily, that she would be all right, but they both knew how frequently the outcome of these situations wasn't good.

When she spoke again, her voice was silent, her pleading words barely audible.

"Andy… please…"

He didn't know what exactly she wanted him to do, she probably didn't even know herself. All he could think of doing at that moment was to wrap his arms around her and hold her for as long as she needed. His lips brushed against her ear, the soft strands of her hair tickling his nose as he whispered desperate words over and over, his voice hoarse with suppressed tears.

"We'll find her."

~TBC~


Once again many, many thanks to all of you for reading, liking, and commenting on this story, especially to those amazing people who take the time to review each chapter. You are so very much appreciated!