A/N:

Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed, they make my day and definitely motivate me to keep writing this story! Sorry about the long update time, I'll try to get another chapter up soon. How's everyone surviving the hiatus?


Sam paced restlessly outside the operating room. As much as he hated seeing Andy in pain, up until now she had been in recovery. He hadn't expected to be back in this position, pacing anxiously and waiting for news. After Oliver had come rushing back into Andy's room, followed by a nurse, Andy had been transported for immediate surgery. Sam had tried desperately to get some kind of information about what was going on from someone, but had ended up pacing outside the OR empty handed. As he continued his path back and forth along the wall, he realized his hands were shaking and looked down at them. They were still covered in Andy's blood. He had an unpleasant flashback to a few days ago when the same thing had happened. He shook his head as he realized he was experiencing some kind of sick, nightmarish deja vu. Just then, Monica came rushing around the corner. Sam blinked, wondering if the situation could get any stranger.

"Monica!" He called out to her, and sidestepped into her path, blocking her way. She looked up at him in surprise. "I need you to find out what's going on with Andy." She glanced over her shoulder at the operating room, and then back at Sam in confusion.

"What- The last I heard she was going to be fine. A bit sore for a while, but she was out of danger…" She trailed off, her eyes widening as she noticed the blood on his hands. Sam wondered if she was having the same flashbacks as he was. He tucked his hands behind his back to hide the blood, and the shaking. "What happened?"

Sam stared at her, reading her face for clues that she knew more than she was letting on. "I took Oliver up to see her, he was just checking on her on his way out. We were there for a while, just talking. She didn't say anything about her stomach hurting. Then she started laughing and was grabbing at her stomach saying she thought she ripped her stitches or something, and there was all this blood…" He let out a deep breath to steady himself as the image of Andy's eyes, huge with fear, popped into his mind. "She said… she said she couldn't feel it." The last words Andy had gotten in before she was pulled away from Sam rung in his ears. The blood had been jarring, frightening even, but after the implications of what Andy's numbness sank in, Sam had been consumed with worry. He didn't know what it meant, but he knew it was serious, and without any kind of explanation, he had been fearing the worst.

Monica studied his face, she knew he thought he was hiding his emotions well , but she knew him well enough to see through it. Running a hand through her hair, she nodded, and turned towards the swinging doors. She was startled when she felt a hand on her arm. She looked down and saw Sam's hand, he quickly dropped it, leaving a smear of blood on her scrubs.

"Sorry," he muttered, frowning at the stain he had left on her arm. She rolled her eyes.

"They're scrubs, Sam. I work in a hospital, I'm not afraid of a little blood." She looked up at him expectantly, and his eyes came up to meet hers.

"When I woke up, the nurse told me you were the one who found me, in Oliver's room." Monica nodded, not seeing where this was going. "You told me you would come find me when you had news, but Andy wouldn't have been out of surgery when I…" He trailed off, but Monica knew what he was saying, and the question behind his words.

"It wasn't anything, Sam. It had nothing to do with whatever is happening now. I'm going to go in there, see what I can find out.." Before she had a chance to disappear behind the doors, Sam shook his head.

"You're telling me that whatever news you had about Andy before I passed out, it had nothing to do with what's going on now?" His eyes swept over her face, suspicious. Monica sighed.

"It had nothing to do with whatever is happening now." Monica's voice was steady, her eyes betraying nothing.

"What was it?" Sam couldn't help himself. He needed to know, whether or not it was relevant to Andy's current condition. His need for information turned him desperate, and he knew he wouldn't stop wondering until Monica told him.

"Andy was stabilized, but we didn't know how long she had been… without oxygen." She looked as though she had been about to say something else. Dead, Sam realized. That was what she was talking about. For a few moments Andy had been dead. He bit back the panic that came with that memory and stared at Monica, prompting her on. "We weren't sure what her brain functioning would be like when she woke up. We were afraid the impacts could have been significant. But, you've seen her. Her motor skills, her memory, everything seems to be fine."

"Except for the fact that she's paralyzed." Sam muttered. The dread was spreading, like ice, through his chest. He hadn't even considered the fact that Andy might have had brain damaged. He had only seen the possibilities of dead or alive. And now… he realized that even if Andy's injuries weren't fatal, she could be paralyzed, or worse. He sank to his knees. Covering his face with his hands, he struggled to regain his composure, but the image of Andy in a wheelchair haunted him. She wouldn't be able to work, not the way she wanted, and she loved her job. She had always been active, the yoga, the running, being fit was part of being a cop but Andy had always genuinely enjoyed it. The idea of her having all those things taken from her, it scared Sam. He knew he would love her always. But he wanted her to be happy, have the life she had imagined in her ten year, twenty year, fifty year plans. He was brought back by Monica's hand on his shoulder.

"You don't know that. Let me go see what I can find out. There are multiple things that can cause loss of feeling, it could be temporary." With that, she disappeared behind the doors, and Sam was left along with his thoughts.

An hour later, Sam hadn't moved from his spot on the floor. He sat with his back against the wall, and his hands clenched into tight fists. Oliver walked around the corner to find him like this, and shook his head. "Sammy, Sammy, Sammy. You don't look so good my friend." He stood above Sam, looking down at him. He considered joining his friend on the floor, but as if in response, his ribs gave a painful twinge and he decided against him.

"Yeah. Well." Sam closed his eyes, hating the worry in Oliver's eyes. He could barely hold it together and seeing Oliver there, with the pity and concern all over his face made this much more real.

"Nash is on her way up. She wants to see what she can find out. I told her if there was news, you would have told us." As if on cue, Traci popped up behind Oliver, and felt the blood drain from her face. She hadn't realized how serious it was, but one look at Sam and she felt the weight of her underestimation.

"Sam." She crouched down in front of him and grabbed his hands. She realized they were sticky with blood, and fought the tremble that threatened her lip. "The nurses said it will be at least half an hour before they know anything. Let's get you cleaned up." She tugged gently at her partners hands and he shook his head. "Do you want this to be the first thing she sees when she wakes up?" Traci was gentle, but insistent, and Sam slowly climbed to his feet. "Oliver would you mind waiting here?" He shook his head and leaned up against the wall. Traci lead Sam towards the bathroom.

"She was numb." Traci looked up from scrubbing Sam's hands clean, and frowned.

"What?"

"She couldn't feel her stomach." Sam didn't look up, couldn't meet Traci's eyes. He felt her hands tense around his own. She released them and reached for a paper towel, turning it over in her hands.

"She's… is she paralyzed?" Traci fought to keep her voice steady, knowing Sam was already on the edge of losing it. She tried to imagine her best friend being confined to a wheelchair, and couldn't. The image just didn't fit.

"I don't know." Sam let out a frustrated sigh and turned to Traci, grabbing the paper towel from her hands. He balled it up and threw it, a little aggressively, into the trash.

"Sam, look before we go back." He glanced back at Traci from the door. "If she is- If she's not going to be the same. She's going to need you to be okay with that." Sam glared angrily at Traci.

"What? You think I would abandon her because she's crippled?" He spat the words, half out of disgust for himself. Would it change the way he felt about Andy? If she could never run with him, or be a cop on the streets again. An image of her big brown eyes, laughing, her mouth stretched into that heartstopping smile, popped into his head. No. He could never not love her. It sickened him that it had taken her nearly dying twice for him to realize it, but now it seemed glaringly obvious. He just wanted her alive.

"No, that's not what I meant." Traci gave Sam a pointed look and he fell silent, ceasing his grumbling. "I know you'll love her no matter what. I just… Andy loved being active, her whole life was active. But she's one of the strongest women I have ever met. And if you go in there feeling like she's lost a part of herself, or that her life has been compromised, she's going to feel that. That will affect how she feels about it. I'm just saying, if she is paralyzed, be the one who can help her accept it, not someone who constantly feels bad for her."

Sam stared at Traci, as the weight of her words sank in. Andy's life wouldn't be over if she was paralyzed. If anyone could figure out how to live life to the fullest in any condition, it would be her. He had to be prepared that she wouldn't be able to do everything she had been, and accept it, so Andy would never have to worry about him feeling sorry for her. He felt a pang of sadness settle into his stomach, mixing with the anxiety of not yet having heard how Andy's surgery had gone. He had to be prepared for whatever news he was about to get. He stole a glance at Traci, who was clenching the countertop with white knuckles. He could never be prepared. "Ready?" He asked her, startling her into looking up.

"Yeah." She pushed past him to the door, and he could hear the shakiness of her breathing. He put an arm around her shoulder and they made their way silently back to where Oliver was waiting. From the tense set of his jaw, Sam assumed that he hadn't heard anything. Just as he settled back onto his spot on the floor, Monica poked her head out from the swinging doors.

"Sam?" Her eyes dropped to his position on the floor, and her lips quirked. Sam took that as a good sign. "Would you mind following me to a room where we can talk?" Her voice betrayed nothing, and the hope Sam had felt at her smile withered and died.

"No, here's fine. Nash and Oliver should know." Traci shot him a grateful smile and Oliver just gave him a steady look. Monica looked surprised, but nodded, stepping out into the hallway.

"The surgery went well, there were minor complications but nothing serious. Andy had a pinched nerve in her spine, which can be serious if it isn't caught right away. The bleeding was a result of Andy tearing her stitches, as she suspected. It was a little excessive, but once again, we gave her a transfusion and it shouldn't have any serious lasting impact. We found the nerve and reduced the inflammation around it which should address her loss of feeling. What happened to her was basically an extreme version of your foot falling asleep." She gave her small crowd a smile, and faltered when they didn;t return it. She wondered if they hadn't understood. "She's going to be completely fine."

Sam swore in relief, grinning at the hard slap on his back. He nudged Oliver in return, and was surprised by a hug from Nash. As the relief that had flooded him began to subside, he swivelled to face Monica and opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off.

"You can see her now, but she won't be awake for at least an hour or so." She smiled and patted Sam on the shoulder, and turned to leave. Sam caught her arm and pulled her tightly into a hug. Monica let out a squeak of surprise, Sam never hugged anyone, not even when they had been sleeping together. She awkwardly patted him on the back, and when she drew back he looked embarrassed.

"Thank you." His voice was soft, but she could see the sincerity in his eyes. She lightly touched his cheek and then hurried away down the hall. Sam turned and walked towards the reception desk in front of him.

"Andy McNally." He looked pointedly down at the nurse sitting in front of the computer. "She just got out of surgery, are they moving her back to her old room?" The nurse tapped at her keyboard and scanned the screen.

"Yes, she should be going back to the third floor." Sam flashed his dimples, his smile deepening when the young nurse blushed. He spun on his heel and saw Nash and Oliver staring at him. He inclined his head toward the elevator, and his friends took the hint. The ride was silent, and Sam found himself struggling to sort through the multitude of emotions that were filling him. Relief seemed to be winning, along with a sense of purpose that hadn't been there before. He needed to be with Andy, he knew that now. He had a feeling the road would be difficult and messy, but he wanted to start building a life with her. He didn't even know if she wanted him back, he realized with a start. He rubbed his face tiredly. They could talk when she was awake, and feeling better. For now, it would have to be enough that she was here, and she was safe. The elevator doors opened and Sam all but sprinted the now familiar route to Andy's room. He stared at her, taking in how pale and fragile she looked. The doctors had given her a small transfusion, just what she needed. Her normally tan skin was white and it made her look cold. With a shiver, Sam sank into the chair beside her bed and took her hand, rubbing it between his.

"Don't ever scare me like that again." He murmured sternly, sighing at the silence that followed. He would have given anything for one of Andy's sarcastic retorts in that moment. He missed her voice, the one he would never get out of his head. "I love you." He said quietly, placing a kiss on her forehead. Startled by a noise from behind him, Sam turned and saw Marlo standing in the door, looking angry. "Oh.." He cleared his throat, finding himself lost for words. "Hey, Marlo."

She stepped into the room, pulling the door closed behind her. Her eyes flashed angrily and Sam felt dread sinking through him. Somehow, this day was about the get even worse.