Boys don't cry was what his father had always told him and, once again, Andy would prove a terrible disappointment to his old man. If he was watching from somewhere above, he was certainly not happy with him now, because Andy didn't even have it in him to be ashamed of his tears. There he was, in another hospital room, in another uncomfortable plastic hair, listening to the strained breathing of another loved one. Sharon was breathing through a tube because her throat was still swollen from where she had been choked by someone with big, strong hands. It was visible in the bruises up her neck that were slowly beginning to turn a deep, frightening purple. There was more bruising on her temple, just above where her cheek was swollen, but it was covered by the large bandage that the laceration on this side of her face was dressed in.

She wasn't conscious. Hadn't been a single time since Taylor had found her next to her car in the underground parking lot. A part of Andy didn't want her to wake up too soon, so she didn't have to enter the world of pain that consciousness would bring. She had a bad concussion, caused by blunt trauma to the head, the same that had caused the open wound. Andy had had to flash his badge in order for them to let him see her and he didn't care whether it was against regulations to use it for a personal matter. He couldn't leave her like this, couldn't have her wake up in a lonely hospital room all by herself, with no one to tell her what had happened. Her face looked so vulnerable that he didn't even dare touch her. Instead he was holding on to her limp hand for dear life.

He jumped when there was a flutter of movement under his other hand and then smiled, wiping away a new onslaught of tears. He was embarrassed by them even though his mother, representing the Italian side of the family, had always told him that it was alright to cry, healing even. He felt so powerless as it was and the idea of someone catching him sobbing all over his girlfriend's lifeless body sobered him up a little.

Leah, he thought. He couldn't decide whether it had been some sort of higher power or a plain old miracle, but the baby had escaped unscathed. She had been quiet so far, probably affected by the medication Sharon had been given to ensure that she rested. They were monitoring her carefully, still worried that all the mental and physical stress would lead to premature labor. So far, there was no sign of it and if there was something Andy was grateful for, it was this.

And yet he felt so guilty. The security footage Buzz had pulled hurriedly had shown Detective Sterling assaulting Sharon or so Provenza had told Andy over the phone. He didn't and would never want to see those images, he had vowed, because he knew that he would lose it should he actually see what he was constantly seeing in his mind already. Sterling, fired because of what Sharon had told her old colleagues in FID. Angry and drug-fueled and aggressive, assaulting a heavily pregnant woman who had no way to defend herself. He was glad that both of his hands were currently occupied or he would have clenched them into fists again, digging his nails into his palms as he had before. The angry marks were still there to prove how he was itching to hit this awful person until he wouldn't move anymore.

And it was he who had convinced her to give the information to FID. He should have known that Sterling would come after her, shouldn't have let her go down there alone, should have been there to protect her from him. But he hadn't been there, had jumped at the chance to stay a little longer for paperwork and then go have a drink with Provenza. It had been in their favorite bar that Taylor's call had reached him and he had spilled his cranberry and soda all over their table when he'd heard. Provenza hadn't even complained about the sticky liquid soaking his clothes and just offered to accompany him.

Andy couldn't shake off the thought that all of this was his fault, that he had failed her again and after having caused her so much heartache over the previous few months already. They would know more as soon as she woke up, the doctors had told him sourly, after their insistence on only family being allowed in her room had been broken his angrily flashing his badge and threatening them with legal action. But she likely wouldn't wake up for a while, heavily subdued as she was. He moved his hand on Sharon's stomach and felt a little kick and then another.

"Hang in there, Leah," he whispered, barely loud enough for himself to hear. There was a knock at the door and Taylor came in, looking solemn. Andy tensed. He and Taylor had never been on the best of terms, making him one of the last persons he wanted to see near Sharon's hospital bed.

"Andy," Taylor said, making him wonder whether he had ever used his given name before. "You need a break. You've been sitting here for hours." He opened his mouth to protest, but Taylor wouldn't hear it. "You're not helping Sharon if you collapse. Go get something to eat and a cup of coffee at least. There's a deli across the street that has decent food."

He hadn't expected him to stick around or even to come back and the idea struck him as absurd. He had just threatened to fire Sharon from her position in Major Crimes and now he was ready to watch over her?

"I won't leave her," he said from between gritted teeth.

"She won't wake up for a while, Andy," Taylor argued, continuing his strange usage of Andy's first name. "Just go get some fresh air. I promise I'll call you straight away if anything changes."

Andy was so devastated that he sought refuge in an emotion that was easier to endure. In fact, he welcomed his overwhelming anger like an old friend.

"How could you threaten to take her job away from her?" he accused Taylor while a small part of his brain was aware that he was being stupid to talk to his boss in this way while his other boss was incapacitated and unable to protect him as she usually did when he stepped out of line. It would, he figured, be best if he didn't give Taylor room to say anything at all. "She didn't tell you in the beginning because we weren't in a relationship then. I was being an idiot, I was prepared to let her raise that kid alone. She didn't want to add to her own pain by telling you all about it when it would have made no difference at all. And we have been together for only a few weeks now! So much is happening and you let-"

"Stop," Taylor said firmly, shutting Andy up immediately. He hadn't previously realized how tired he was. "This is not the place to discuss this. The Cap- Sharon needs to get well before we put anymore thought into it, okay? And now you need to go and cool off."

Andy got up, placing Sharon's hand that he had been holding in the same spot his had been on her belly before.

"Call me if anything changes. Understood?" he growled at Taylor.

"I said that I would and I will," Taylor replied solemnly, then sat down in the chair Andy had just vacated.

He stumbled across the street, hardly aware of his surroundings. His throat was dry. Maybe a drink of water would help. Maybe he should also really eat and have a cup of coffee. He was shaking and he needed nutrition to keep his energy up. Taylor was right. If he wanted to be there for Sharon, he needed to be in decent shape or he would be of no use to her at all. He placed his order, pointing at some sandwich randomly and sat down at a small table to wait for it to be heated.

And then he saw it.

The place was licensed.

Behind the counter there was a makeshift bar, full of everything anyone could wish for. They had vodka, a nice brand even, and bourbon, his former drink of choice. Just one little sip to calm his nerves, he thought, as his addiction reared its ugly head. It was as if two different voices were talking inside his head. One wanted nothing more than to stay sober and away from drink, the other craved it more than anything else in the world. It had become harder not to give in again after he had done so once. Alcohol would dull the pain he felt, would wash away the guilt if only for a while. And he had stopped drinking again before. One drink wouldn't hurt. And if he was having one, he could have two, also, because who was counting if it was only this once? The spiral was starting inside his head and he couldn't stop it.

The waitress set his sandwich down in front of him and he opened his mouth to order a shot - just one for now - to put the terrible images out of his mind. Before he could say anything, though, he was interrupted.

"Andy?"

He whirled around and there she was. Caroline, in jeans and a t-shirt, her short hair in the attempt of a ponytail that was falling apart already, blonde strands framing her face. She wasn't wearing make-up which showed off the freckles that dotted her nose.

"Oh my God, what happened? You look awful!" She was carrying a wrapped sandwich, too, grease oozing through the paper. He had always loved how she didn't care much about calories. Her natural scent was slightly overlaid by the hospital smell and he understood that she, like him, was on a break from something sad or terrible that was happening across the street. She sat down opposite him without being invited and looked at him, her bright blue eyes searching his for clues.

He remembered how clouded those eyes had looked when she had been drunk in his car. How sad she had been, how disappointed in him. Maybe she had been at O'Malley's to run into him in the first place, but she had ended up texting him the next morning to apologize for her behavior. What behavior, he still wondered, she had been drunk and flirty and sweet but had never really done anything wrong. He was the asshole in all this, hurting two women at the same time.

"It's Sharon," he finally managed. "She's been assaulted and it's my fault."

"Did you assault her?" Caroline asked sternly to which he reacted with an almost outraged "no!". "Then it is not your fault, Andy." She reached over the table and placed her hand over his, not in the romantic way she had done so often, but in a pragmatic, reassuring manner as he imagined she would with one of her patients. "I am so sorry. That is horrible! How is she doing? How is your baby?"

Andy shook his head. "She has trouble breathing and she suffered a concussion which is rather serious. Her doctor says that we'll have to wait for her to wake up. The baby..." He managed a small, sad smile. "The baby is fine. She didn't lose her, but they're checking for symptoms of early labor." He noticed that his eyes were wet again and wiped them on his sleeve. He was only in his shirt, his jacket long discarded in a place he didn't even recall. "I haven't even called her kids about it, yet. I've told Gavin, he's breaking the news to Rusty, I-" He buried his face in his hand. "It's my fault, Caroline. I've failed her and I've failed you and-"

A gentle hand pried his away from his eyes. "You're feeling mighty important, aren't you, Lieutenant Flynn?" She smiled a little. "You didn't fail anyone. We can take care of ourselves, you know. The only way you'll fail her is if you start drinking again."

He stared at her. Could she read him that well?

"You've been staring at the liquor bottles behind the counter," she explained. "I spotted you a while before you spotted me. I know it's hard, but you're stronger than that, Andy."

"You're right. I was an idiot to even consider it." Strangely, he meant exactly what he said. The idea of ordering alcohol seemed absurd all of a sudden. This wasn't him anymore, this wasn't his life anymore. He might be a failure, but not in this particular regard. Caroline slid his sandwich towards him. "Eat something. You look like a zombie."

She would know, he thought. She loved zombie movies after all. How could he have ever thought that he could keep up with her? She was so much younger, so different from him, had made him feel so young and careless. And yet she had been nothing more than an escape from his life and from the momentum of the feelings he had for Sharon. He still wasn't sure why he had felt such a mighty need to run from them, but maybe it had been exactly what had transpired today. He had been too afraid to let her down and once again destroy something precious. Instead he had let Caroline down.

"I'm so sorry for being such an ass. You deserve so much better than me," he said at the risk of sounding corny. It was exactly what he felt, though.

She seemed to understand because she smiled softly yet sadly, oddly reminding him of Sharon. Maybe he had chosen Caroline as his escape because under all the short blonde hair and youthful looks, she was a wise woman like Sharon. She was tough and smart and loving. Only she was not Sharon which had been both the beginning and the end of their relationship.

"It's okay. I get it. You're too old anyway." She gave him one of her mischievous smiles. "Now eat your sandwich. You need to stay strong for your family."

Sweet Caroline indeed.

Despite the unfeasible amount of espresso he had consumed earlier, Andy had fallen asleep in the plastic chair next to Sharon's bed. At first he thought that the searing pain in his back had woken him, but then he noticed that Sharon's breathing had changed. He was awake with a start, ready to call the nurse if something was wrong. She coughed, still weak but reaching for her nasal cannula.

"Hey, hey," he said softly, stroking her arm to get her attention. She was starting to panic so he helped her remove it and placed it next to her on the bed. Sharon took a couple of breaths that sounded more like gasps and for a moment he was terrified that he had made the wrong decision in helping her remove the breathing aid, but then she took a deep, clean breath. She was still pale and too weak to sit up, her face bruised and her eyes half-closed, but he could see the fear grow in them.

"Andy," she weakly squeezed his hand back. "What about Leah?"

His heart both ached and jumped at the question. She was so worried about the baby and he wanted to put her mind at ease and at the same time he was so happy that she had accepted the name along with him. Their last night in her bed seemed to have taken place years ago and she had fallen asleep right after suggesting the name, but apparently, they hadn't needed words to come to an understanding.

He leaned in and pressed his lips against her forehead very carefully. "Sweetheart, Leah is fine. She wasn't hurt." Tears stained Sharon's cheeks and he was too scared of hurting her to wipe them away.

"I was so scared that he would hurt her," she whispered.

"She's fine," he repeated. "You'll be fine, too, Sharon," he said. "We'll all be fine."

One day, maybe, he would be ready to admit to her that a run in with his ex-girlfriend had led him to this realization.

"It wasn't Sterling," she whispered bringing both relief and dread. She was coherent and her speech wasn't slurred, so her head injuries weren't as severe as they could have been. At the same time, what she said made no sense to him.

"What do you mean?" he asked her, frowning.

"He wasn't the one who told Taylor about us," she whispered, her voice shaking. "Andy, if it wasn't him... who was it?"

"That is not where you'll find the Clarkson file, young lady!" Jack's voice sounded from the doorway, jolly enough.

"It is not?" Chris turned around and straightened up, hiding the folder behind her back by pretending to assume the position out of shame. "I'm sorry, I can't seem to remember."

"No problem," Jack said boastfully. "It's in the cabinet next to the door. Bring it into the conference room with some coffee, will you?"

"Yes, thank you!" she called after his retreating back then looked down at the folder she had just retrieved from where she had seen him put it a few days prior. She smiled darkly. Who said that you couldn't learn about divorce law if you interned for a lawyer specializing in criminal law?