A/N: Conspiracy Theory, part I episode tag. No beta all mistakes are mine.
Sitting on the back row seemed so foreign, yet he made no effort to move. For once, Andy Flynn wasn't in the mood to listen to other people's struggles. Truth be known, he wished he was somewhere else altogether. Gripping his phone in his left hand, he waited for the text from Provenza to come. He would feel better, he told himself, when he knew his wife was safe, back in the car with his partner and not out in that tacky restaurant interrogating a murder suspect. Separating his Commander from his Girlfriend had once been easy, but not anymore. It wasn't even the fact that she was now his wife that blurred his judgement; no, Andy was sure that wasn't it. He'd always known she could take care of herself in any given situation, but now there were just too many variables at play. Her illness, Stroh, her illness…Andy's mind circled directly back to that one shattering thought.
It wasn't fair, how could this be happening to her, how could she be sick? Andy could no longer count how many times he has voiced that question, but thus far, not one single time has he said those words out loud. To their friends and family and even to Sharon, he has only had words of encouragement and hope. But inside, anger and most of all fear looms heavily in his thoughts. He would never admit it to Sharon, but he almost wished the Doctor had put more restrictions on her. He knew better than anyone how determined and for lack of a better word – stubborn, she could be. His biggest fear is that she won't admit even to herself how she is really feeling until it is too late. So far, taking it easy wasn't really working, but that didn't surprise him either.
Glancing up, Andy realized someone new was speaking. Intent on shifting his attention, he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his phone still held tightly in his left hand. His eyes stared unseeing at the dingy brown tile while he tried to focus on hearing the young woman's story. The air next to him shifted as someone sat down in the empty chair to his right, but he didn't bother to look up. The vibration of his phone drew his attention, his eyes scanned the text from Provenza, the relief that Sharon was now on her way home gave life to his first cleansing breath in the last few hours. Andy's eyes migrated back to the floor, his sponsor Keith was speaking now; his deep, familiar voice adding another layer of comfort to Andy's thoughts.
A soft nudge to his knee came from Andy's right, but going with the assumption that the person accidently bumped him, Andy kept his eyes focused on the dark line separating the tiles. Seconds later a somewhat firmer nudge begged for his attention. Looking up, he cursed under his breath at the sight before him. Thinking back, Andy tried to remember the last time he'd set eyes on Jackson Raydor, but the recollection wouldn't come.
With a slight nod, Jack stood, motioning for Andy to follow him. Hesitating for a brief moment, Andy finally relented, shoving his phone into his suit pocket, he stepped out into the isle between the rows of chairs. With dread, he followed Jack out into the vacant corridor. Mincing no words, Jack turned to Andy, "We need to talk."
Knowing things had the potential to get heated, Andy stepped past Jack, "Not here." With a low shrug, Jack fell inline behind him. Once outside, Andy walked down a narrow sidewalk to a small patio with round concrete tables. Turning, he leaned against the closest table, "What can I do for you Jack?" His tone was unmistakable as he studied the man before him. Even in the dim light of the street lamp, Andy could tell from the man's ruddy complexion and too tight dress shirt that he was still drinking. "I take it you're not here for the meeting."
Shoving his hands in his pockets, Jack edged closer, "No, I'm not. I…got a phone call from Emily a few days ago."
Andy ran his hand through his hair, certain of where this conversation was going, "And?"
"She was upset and worried about her mother and I…felt totally blindsided."
"Blindsided…" the roll of Andy's eyes didn't go unnoticed even in the darkened night air.
"Look Flynn," Jack stepped even closer, pointing a plump finger at him, "I deserve to know exactly what's going on with my wife."
A low chuckle escaped Andy's lips, "Your wife?" Standing up straighter, "You didn't give a damn about her when she was your wife, why start now?"
The look that crossed Jack's features was not the one that Andy expected. He expected anger, denial, even a complete lack of concern but, that is not at all what he was seeing. Stepping back slightly, Jack hung his arms loosely by his side, "Look, I know I was a lousy husband but, that doesn't mean that I don't care about her. She's the mother of my children for god's sake."
"Two wonderful children that she raised all on her own!" Andy bit back.
"You're right…Andy, you are exactly right," with a soft groan, Jack eased down on the closest bench. "Is it as bad as Emily is making it out to be?"
A deep sigh burned through Andy's chest; with a heavy heart, he moved to sit opposite from the man he wanted so very much to hate. "I don't know… we don't know right now. The doctor said we wait, see how she responds to the medication. She needs to take it easy, avoid stress…"
"How's that working?" amusement dotted Jack's tone.
"It's not."
"What can I do?" The sincerity of his question surprised Andy.
Leaning back, Andy rested his hands atop the cool concrete, "Make things right with your kids." Jack's gaze drifted down, unable to meet the dark eyes of the man sitting across from him, "I know Emily tries to stay in touch, but when's the last time you spoke to Ricky?" A low hum was Jack's only reply. "Regardless of how this plays out for Sharon, you need to make things right with your kids. Trust me Jack, I more than anyone know how important that is."
Jack ran is hand through his hair, "So this…heart thing, it's really serious isn't it?"
"Yeah," Andy looked away, the pain and sadness carried in that one single word spoke volumes.
Jack stood, clearing his throat, he shoved his hands into his pockets one more time. "Will you tell her I asked about her…and that I'm sorry," his voice cracked, "so very sorry for everything." Not trusting his own voice, Andy slowly nodded. Jack turned to walk away, but he paused after a few steps, "and Flynn?" Their eyes met once again in the dim light, "Take good care of her. She really deserves that."
"I will, that's a promise." Andy watched as Jackson Raydor walked slowly around the corner and out of sight. He would tell her about his conversation, but not tonight and not tomorrow. One day, when he is sure that she is safe and healthy again, he would tell her everything.
