Not much to say other than we are finally getting into the chapters that I've been waiting for for a long while. Because, despite the angsty-ness and all that, the next chapter will have a little bit of fluff. Just because.
And thankyou's to everyone reading, as always.
Other than that, enjoy.
The devilish voice of her tormentor looped around and around in her mind, her will to hold it off simply gone. Her vision slid from that of her living room back into the dirty basement and the rest of her slowly followed.
It was different from the dreams, because in those, at least she was partially aware that it would end and she would wake up at some point. Not like this.
This has happened, in a magnitude this strong, only twice before.
The first was during the first session with the shrink. The kindly woman had meant well, that much Andy knew, but she had asked so many questions that had hit right where she was still trying to recover. They weren't about what had been done to her, or what she had endured psychologically.
No, they had been primarily about her support system and friends.
Specifically, her undercover training officer.
The second time was when she had first gone back to her apartment.
Traci had gathered the other rookies and a few other members of the precinct as a sort of mini-welcome home. It had been the last thing Andy had wanted to participate in, but she put a smile on her face and forced herself through the night for her best friend.
She wanted the worry and unexpected visits like this to stop.
Everything had been fine until Luke (jackass) has hugged her a little too brusquely.
Neither of these moments were particularly helpful in the present, nor relevant. What was how she had only spun out of the panic the next morning, after passing out and dreaming.
And how the onset had been much faster those two previous times. She had never managed to finish her story before.
Only, this time was different.
Something was keeping her grounded.
So she leapt towards that little light with desperation.
To find herself confronted with the words, "I love you so much."
They froze at the same time.
Ever so slowly, Andy tilted her head to peer up at him, barely aware she had to crane her neck hugely from where she was curled on his lap.
He was looking straight ahead, eyes just as stunned as she felt.
She could almost see the thoughts running through his mind, the Oh shit, oh shit, what did I do? It caused another little piece inside to break away from the shield around her heart. And with that, the crack spread enough for her to see with clarity she had lacked for months.
He really had never left her. Abandoned her.
"Sam-" She starts but is cut off before she can continue.
"I'm sorry; I didn't-"
This time, it's she who stopped him. Gently, she moved one arm away from her chest and tangled her fingers in his shirt, smiling a little at how the sensation felt. She ignored the small flash of hurt as his arms loosened their hold, instead taking the opportunity to twist herself into a more comfortable position, which ended up being her sitting crosswise on his lap, legs dangling off his and side pressed to his chest.
And ignored the half of her that was glad at the release of constraints.
"Look at me Sam. Please."
Hesitantly, he lifted his gaze to hers, filled with sorrow and fear.
"Okay."
He blinked slowly. "What?" he asked in confusion.
"Okay," Andy repeated. She took a breath. "I can't say the same back, not yet. I'm broken and I know it. But I don't think I'll run anymore. So, okay."
His expression of joy was all she needed.
Pressing her free hand to her cheek, she leaned forward and rested her forehead to his. Strong arms came around her and pulled her closer. At first, the contact was soothing, comforting almost. And she wanted to maintain it. But she said it herself. She was broken; and it would take a long time for things to ever be right.
So, after ten seconds, her body began to betray her and started to shake. His arms fell away as if burned and she slipped off his lap and onto her feet. Backing away a few paces, she pressed a hand to her mouth and tried not to notice his look of anguish.
"Sorry," she murmured through her fingers. He was on his feet, keeping a careful distance, watching her with dark eyes.
"Don't ever apologies for what happens or happened. It was not your fault and will never be your fault," he practically growled. She took comfort in his anger and nodded, wiping damp hands on her sweats.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"Anytime." A corner of Sam's lip twitched in the beginnings of a smile. It was interrupted by a massive yawn.
The sight alone was enough to illicit a small giggle from Andy. "I think it's time for some sleep."
"You aren't staying here," Sam responded instantly with a pointed look to her door.
"And whose fault is that?" Andy shot back with a smirk.
His contrite look evaporated most of her amusement. "Where should I stay then?" Andy asked, stuffing her hands into the pockets of the sweatshirt she wore.
"I'll call someone about that tomorrow, I promise. But until then, maybe, you could stay with me. I have a spare room if you want," he paused when he saw a strange look pass across her face. "But if you don't want to…"
"Okay," she spoke before he could continue. It was time to jump in, not dip feet in the shallows.
"Okay?"
"That would work. I'll just go grab a few things." With that, she turned and headed up the stairs. Within moments, she was back down to the main floor with her duffle slung over her shoulder, uniform peeking out from the top.
Deciding it was best not to say more, Sam nodded and grabbed his jacket from the chair, following her out the open maw of the door.
The drive to Sam's apartment was filled with silence; not quite tense but not completely at ease either. It was as if they had both found their footing at her place, but now that they were in his truck, the ground had shifted a little.
With her head resting against the window, Andy watched as the city blinked by, taking peace in the lights and sounds. Sam's comforting scent filled the cab and swirled around her, allowing some raw edges from the night to smooth and she fiddled absently on a loose thread of the sweatshirt.
She pretended not to notice the sidewise looks Sam threw at her every once and awhile.
He spoke for the first time only two blocks from his home.
"That sweatshirt… it looks familiar…?"
"Is that a question or a statement Sam?" Andy asked quietly in response.
"Question."
Exhaling softly, she continued to stare out the window even as he pulled into his drive and parked. "It's yours," she admitted. "I stole it from your locker two days after you left. I was going to burn it or something, but then… things happened and it was forgotten in my closet. Until I came home and couldn't even try to sleep; then I found it."
She turned her head to regard him. "Even though I hated you at the time, it was the only thing I had that could help with the pain and fear."
There was a beat of silence.
"Andy…"
"Sam, please don't."
"Alright." Shutting off the engine, he simply got out of the truck and walked around to her side, taking the duffle from her shoulder and slinging it over his. Their eyes met for a moment, before she turned and headed for his door.