TWENTY-FIVE

The LAPD's security system had been updated very recently, so the video's resolution was high, the images detailed. There was no audio, but since the video was to be presented as evidence in court, subtitles had been added by one of the lip-readers the LAPD contracted for such purposes.

Even though Andy had known what to expect all along, seeing Sharon's limp body on screen still came as a shock. It had all happened so long ago and he had her here in his arms, her and their son safe and sound, but the sight put Andy on edge nonetheless. The idea that someone had drugged and kidnapped her, especially with her being pregnant, still twisted his guts.

The first shot of her was not from the FID offices since there were no cameras there, but from an area by the rarely used service elevators at the back of the building. Elliott was there, his eyes wide and frantic, accompanied by Richardson, the sight of which still sent chills down Andy's spine even though he knew him to be safely locked away in a high security facility in California. Sharon was on the floor on her side, clearly unconscious and Elliott was kneeling next to her, hovering, while Richardson was running a clearly exasperated hand through his hair. The camera had a clear shot of both of them and so the subtitles provided what was being said.

"Did anyone see you?" Richardson asked and Elliott shook his head.

"But Flynn has to be close. He wouldn't leave her for too long."

Sharon moved, maybe groaned. It was hard to tell what the sound could be, but both men turned towards her in mild alarm.

"How much did you give her?" Richardson asked.

"Not much. She wasn't feeling well these past few days in the first place. I didn't want to add to that discomfort," Elliott said, gently brushing a few strands of hair away from Sharon's forehead. It seemed strange that he would be that affectionate when he had just knocked her out in order to kidnap her. Richardson seemed to think along those same lines because he rolled his eyes.

"Listen, you told me yourself that this bitch has been cheating on her husband with Lieutenant Flynn and that she is just pretending to be nice to you while she is miles away in her head thinking about screwing him. She doesn't deserve your concern."

Elliott's face bore testament to the fact that he was conflicted about that point, because at first he seemed angry, then he seemed to relent.

"I just want to talk to her and they will never let me talk to her properly. Flynn certainly won't."

"She owes you an explanation," Richardson emphasized. "But you need to remember that she isn't on your side, okay? She will rat you out the second you let her go."

It was obvious that Richardson was trying to rile Elliott up, so he would end up hurting Sharon. Andy was snapped out of it when the scene froze, Sharon having paused the video.

"Hey," she said softly, covering his hand with hers. He looked down and realized that his fingers were clenched painfully around the fabric of the covers. He loosened them and took Sharon's hand instead, running his thumb over her palm.

"Let me know whenever you need a break, okay?" he asked her and earned a knowing little smile.

"You, too," she said softly yet pointedly.

On the screen, the video resumed. Elliott was pacing.

"She will understand if she just hears me out," he was saying and for the first time, Andy could see traces of his illness. There was something manic about the way he moved and his eyes were wide. "I need to tell her about Mom. I need to tell her about my diagnosis. She can help, she always does."

Richardson snorted. "Does she, now? You know what happened to Freya? She pretends to care, but she is a stone-cold bitch, that one. You'll see. You'll be out of a job the second you tell her."

"Where do I take her? Where do I take her?" Elliott murmured. "I didn't think Flynn would leave her out of his sight, I am not prepared for this! I haven't thought this through. I haven't thought this through."

Richardson approached him and put both of his hands on his shoulders. "Look, everyone may be out right now, but we don't have much time. You take her to your mother's beach house."

Elliott tensed. "I don't want to go there ever again."

"You have to. There is nowhere else that they won't be looking."

Elliott dipped his head back and looked at the ceiling in despair, but nodded.

"But I'll talk to her, let her know what this is all about. She'll understand. She'll understand."

The way he was repeating certain sentences seemed desperate in a way that hinted at his unhealthy mind. Oddly, Andy felt almost bad for him. One look at Sharon proved that she was feeling the same.

"You have Jenna's car keys, don't you? Take that one, so you won't be traced that easily."

Andy looked at Sharon. "Jenna?"

Sharon looked up at him. "My secretary. She was taking a vacation to Europe with her husband at the time. I think she left her car at the garage for the duration of the trip because her husband picked her up on the way to the airport."

That made sense and also explained why they had never been able to trace Elliott's car.

"I need to get them, they're in my desk," Elliott said, to which Richardson nodded towards the hallway. "Then hurry up!"

Elliott hurried off and Richardson approached Sharon's still form on the floor, nudging her thigh with his boot. Sharon moved in response, her eyes opening slowly and Andy could feel Sharon tense next to him. She clearly did not remember this moment and seeing herself conscious had to feel more than eery. Looking up at Richardson through her hair, Sharon was struggling to keep her eyes open.

"Welcome back, Bitch," Richardson said and kicked her in the leg again. Sharon winced and curled into a tight ball, pulling her legs up and wrapping her arms around her middle. It looked suspiciously liked the move they had been taught in their hostage training, should they find themselves in a helpless situation. He wondered whether she had remembered in that moment that she was protecting more than just her body. His question was answered mere seconds later when the subtitles revealed what Sharon had said to Richardson.

"I'm pregnant. Please don't hurt my baby."

So he had known. The bastard had known all along. Andy wanted to smash the screen in all his anger, but restrained himself with everything he had. This was tough enough to watch for Sharon. His freaking out wouldn't help.

Richardson's face hardened and he crouched down next to her, grabbing her by the hair to force her to look at him. "Freya wanted kids, too, you know. But you broke her. You took all that away from her and it's only fair if I do you the same favor."

With that, he smashed her head against the floor, effectively knocking her out. Andy could tell that the impact hadn't been as hard as Richardson had intended and she probably wouldn't have fallen back into unconsciousness if not for the chloroform that was still in her system, but his stomach clenched anyway. The head injury had been painful but not dangerous, he reminded himself in order to calm down. The move on screen was vile, but it hadn't done as much damage as it could have.

Richardson snorted in disgust, making to kick her again when Elliott suddenly came back into the scene, all but throwing himself between Sharon and her assailant. He was shouting.

"Are you out of your mind? What are you doing?"

He bent down and gently lifted Sharon into his arms. To be honest, Andy wouldn't have expected him to be strong enough to support that much dead weight, but, though clearly struggling, he somehow managed to carry her into the elevator. Richardson followed, hands clenched into fists.

The scene changed and Andy found himself looking at a very little frequented area of the underground parking area. He understood that Richardson had orchestrated the security maintenance to be able to pull the tapes without anyone getting suspicious, but the fact that they hadn't run into anyone in the middle of the day had been pure, dumb luck. Elliott could still be alive, Andy thought grimly, if his escape from the LAPD building had not been that lucky. The two men were standing next to a car that had to be Jenna's.

"Put her in the trunk," Richardson said, his face set into a cold, hard expression. Elliott was subtly but visibly retreating from him.

"Are you crazy?" he asked. "She'll hurt herself in there."

Andy watched Elliott gently put Sharon in the backseat and secured her there, then spread a blanket over her to disguise her from view. The camera was angled in a way that allowed a look inside the car, where Elliott was fussing with the blanket to make sure that Sharon was both out of view and able to breathe at the same time.

"She deserves none of your kindness, Christian!" Richardson insisted. "All she wants is to manipulate you." He paused and tilted his head and Andy was under the impression that he was improvising. "I wasn't going to tell you this, Christian, but I saw her laughing with Flynn a few times, making fun of you being weird. I think they were calling you the little psycho." None of that was true, of course, but Elliott seemed to trust his old acquaintance enough to fall for it. His face fell. For a moment he looked devastated, then his expression hardened.

"I know you didn't like that I sent out those pictures of her and Flynn, I get it. You have some weird adoration for her, but you must have understood by now that she is not who you thought she was!"

Elliott shook his head, grabbing fistfuls of his own hair with both hands. He looked as if he was torn between two things and Richardson must have realized that as well, because he leaned into him further.

"You hid the camera, you're the one who is kidnapping her. There is nothing that ties me to this. All I do is help you and your obsession. You better tell her it was you who did that. The tires, too. Even though we don't know who did that. That'll show her how much she hurt you."

Elliott looked up at Richardson. His eyes were red and he looked agitated. This was not the Sergeant Elliott Andy knew and he sensed that this was his illness clouding his mind. A part of him was angry and wanted to confront Sharon, another still cared for her. It was all clearly written across his face.

"But I don't want to hurt her! I never wanted to hurt her!" Elliott protested.

"You have to!" Richardson insisted. "You will go to prison if you don't kill her."

Elliott took a deep breath. "I'll talk to her, I'll tell her why I was so angry with her. I'll tell her and she will understand."

Richardson took a step back. "Good luck with that." He pointed at the security camera. "Just remember that I am the one who has the footage from that camera. You take the fall or I'll take you with me and that won't be pretty, because I am going to tell them all about you and your crazy. Those cameras don't have sound, you know. I might as well tell them that I was trying to keep you from taking her."

Elliott looked close to tears now and so did Sharon in bed next to Andy. He put his arm around her and pulled her into him.

"I thought you were my friend," Elliott said.

Richardson, already on his way back to the elevator, turned around one last time.

"I'm not your friend, you sick bastard. Never was. You better kill her or I'll tell everyone what a cuckoo you are."
And with that, the tape ended.

Andy stared at the black screen for a moment, gathering his bearings. It was clear to him why Provenza had wanted Sharon to watch. While it was tough to see her so vulnerable, the video redeemed Elliott to some extent. He had never wanted to hurt Sharon, had protected her from Richardson and had always insisted that she would understand. In some way, Elliott had been a victim as much as Sharon had been and while it must hurt her, he was sure it also provided comfort. That didn't make right what he had done, but Elliott had not been a monster. He had been sick and his weakness had been exploited by a manipulator who would have done anything to hurt Sharon for revenge. But through it all, he had cared for her. Andy remembered how Sharon had been shoved away by Elliott once it had become clear that the police officers would open fire. He hadn't wanted her hurt, so he had tried to push her away and to safety.

Andy turned to Sharon and found tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Oh my God," she whispered. "Oh, poor Christian."

He pulled her close again, wrapping his arms around her to hold her until her tears would dry. Sharon did cry herself out, but when she was done, it seemed that a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She had been grieving her young officer before, but now that she knew the whole story, she had finally found some kind of closure.

The next day, Andy once again found himself next to a sleeping Sharon on her bed. With the brisk pace of the walk around the pond in the neighboring park that they had taken in the morning, Andy had completely forgotten how close Sharon was to her due date until she had leaned into him, groaning. His gaze had fallen down to her hand supporting her stomach and suddenly he had deeply worried that something was wrong with her until she had straightened up with a pained smile. Sharon had explained to him that she wasn't good with being on her feet for too long anymore without a dull pain radiating through her lower abdomen. Their boy was getting ready to be born and it was putting pressure on her pelvis. They had then retired to her bedroom where he had held her until she drifted off to sleep.

Andy really hoped that she would be up to making the trip to New York without too much discomfort. He was nervous to meet Emily Raydor, but maybe the fact that Sharon had told her that he was the reason she was able to attend after all would buy his way into her good graces.

While Sharon was exhausted, Andy wasn't tired. In fact, he couldn't remember ever being this rested, so the chances of him falling asleep were less than slim. Careful not to wake Sharon, he got off the bed and tiptoed out of the room, closing the door behind him. He had noticed that she was keeping the door to the nursery firmly shut at all times, but it was not locked, so he went into the room and switched the light on. Dusk was falling outside and when the naked lightbulb came on, he took in the assortment of boxes.

A quick inspection told him that Sharon had bought everything there was to buy, but it was all still in boxes. He found a laundry basket with folded baby clothes and blankets, a few toys even, yet nothing had been set up. He wondered whether she just hadn't gotten around to it or whether she had waited until it had become physically hard for her to set up furniture. Either way, he wasn't going to let his son come home to an unfinished nursery, so he rolled up his sleeves and got started with the lamp adorned with little ducks that was probably meant to relieve the light bulb of its nakedness. For two hours, Andy methodically went about putting the furniture together, folding the boxes and putting items into drawers and the built-in shelves on the far wall. He even unwrapped a set of framed children's books illustrations but decided not to take the chance of waking Sharon with the noise of driving a nail into the wall with the hammer from the tool box he had found. When he had just put the last teddy bear (mercifully not in Red Sox attire) into the bed, the door opened and Sharon stepped in, looking tired.

"I was looking for y…" She stopped in her tracks, looking around the former storage room that Andy's work had managed to transform into an actual nursery.

"Um, surprise," Andy said, suddenly worried that he had overstepped his boundaries. Who was he to just assume that he was always welcome to change her interior around? He swallowed when she didn't react immediately, mentally kicking himself. While they were surprisingly comfortable with each other, they had only spent a few days together and he should have been more careful.

"It looks just the way I imagined," Sharon said, her voice thick with emotion. "Thank you, Andy."

Suddenly he remembered how she had told him that she wanted to wait and his heart sank. Then again, how long had she been meaning to wait? The previous night had revealed that her nightly shifting was not just the result of Sharon trying to find a comfortable position, but that she was also experiencing relatively strong practice conditions. Even Andy, who was everything but an expert, could tell that that baby was going to arrive very soon and he just didn't see the harm in making sure that everything was ready when it did.

"I thought it was time," he said, sounding unsure even to himself. "I know you said you wanted to wait, but…"

She approached him and put her hands on his forearms. "It's okay, Andy. I've been worried, but it really isn't long now. I'm glad you did this."

Relieved, he smiled down at her. "You picked really nice things for him."

"Thank you." She smiled back and kissed him lightly. It was strange to think that he had had no part in choosing the furniture or the clothes, because he simply hadn't been there. Somehow it seemed wrong to Andy and for the very first time it occurred to him, that this might be what was in his future. He could end up being the absent father again who visited from time to time but was not part of his son's daily life or of the decisions it entailed. They were happy right now in their little bubble of holding hands and talking walks and sleeping together, but his sick leave would not last forever. He hadn't felt the need to call home at all since he had arrived. Somehow, he was so completely focused on Sharon that he barely wasted a thought on his life in Los Angeles. His heart sank at the thought of his joyless living room, the many hours wasted in front of the television lately. Even his job, which he had always liked doing, seemed tedious now when he would come home to an empty house without his family in it.

"I don't want to go home to Los Angeles without you," he said without thinking, only voicing the most urgent of his thoughts without further elaboration. Sharon tensed.

"Andy," she said softly. "I can't."

Unsure what exactly she was referring to, Andy waited. Maybe that was the smartest thing to do for once, not talk a mile a minute and get every little thought out, but to give her space to breathe, to voice her own thoughts. She looked sad, but determined.

"Andy, my home is here in Boston now. I never realized how much I missed my parents and my sister. I never realized how much of a strain that job in FID put on me. I feel free here. I am happy here and I should have never left in the first place." Andy furrowed his brow at that, so she elaborated. "It was Jack who wanted to move to Los Angeles. I didn't want to go. I was going to go to college here, stay in the area, but he was so enthusiastic, so I just went along."

Another stupid parallel to Jack-fucking-Raydor. Andy was becoming really and truly tired of them. He rolled his eyes and regretted it immediately, worried that Sharon would take it the wrong way.

"For the first time in my life I actually feel free," she said, her voice wavering. "I can't give this up."

Andy took a deep breath, finally ready to allow himself to share his thoughts with her. "And I don't want you to, Sharon!" he said emphatically, a lot more emotion in his voice than he had intended. "I don't want you to give all this up, but I can't stand the thought of being in Los Angeles while my family is here." He shook his head. "I don't want to be the dad who doesn't see his kid's first steps or misses his first day of school. Not again, Sharon. Hell, I might even miss his birth, depending on when Chief Johnson finally has enough and summons me back to LA."

Sharon was just looking at him with those deep green eyes of hers. She was waiting to see where his little rant was going. He hadn't known that destination when he had started talking, but suddenly it was crystal clear to him.

"If that is alright with you, I'm going to see if I can find a job here. I could get a place near you, so I can be there."

"You want to quit the LAPD?" Sharon asked, her eyes glassy. "That job is your life, Andy!"

"Was," he said with emphasis. "It hasn't been for the past six months. I've been miserable without you and I am not ready to be that miserable again. There are jobs here in Boston."

Sharon gave a teary little snort-laugh. "What about Provenza?"

"Oh, he can travel," Andy said more lightly than he felt. Leaving Provenza would be hard. He had always hoped to find a way to rebuild his relationship with his kids, too. Maybe he could still do that, though. Sharon took his hand and squeezed it, looking up at him.

"You don't have to find a place, Andy. You can stay here with us."

Andy shook his head. "I don't want to impose, Sharon. I know this is sudden and I understand how scared you are of committing yourself again. I don't want to take your newfound freedom away from you again."

"Oh, Andy. That is not what I meant." The look in her eyes was soft and he understood that he had done something right. What was it Provenza had said just before he had presented him with the plane ticket? Sharon's greatest fear was that he would turn out to be like Jack, that he would not make an effort to be in his child's life if she didn't force him to. "You are not imposing. I love you and I want you here."

For a moment, he was rendered mute. In all this time, she had never said the words to him, had never opened herself up to the potential hurt such a confession could bring. It took courage and she was ready to do it for him. Impulsively, he leaned down and kissed her.

When they came apart, she was smiling through her tears. "I can't believe you want to stay."

He shook his head and snorted. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't, Sharon."

She laughed, too, though shakily. „Hm, very soon it might not be possible to get a good night's sleep around here for a while," she suggested.

"Earplugs it will be then," he joked, making her swat him playfully. His heart was leaping. The decision he had just made had not been as impulsive as it seemed at first, he realized, because he had been wondering about in - if not consciously - for a while. It wasn't fair to try and uproot Sharon from her life here and now that he thought about it, a fresh start might be just what he needed, too. He suddenly felt light, as if he was years younger and his life still stretched endlessly in front of him, full of possibilities and potential. And, he thought as he looked down at Sharon, maybe it did.

"Mom!" Out of a group of little angels in star-studded circular skirts and tiny golden wings emerged Emily Raydor in a light pink tutu, a wide smile gracing her heavily made-up face. For a moment, Andy forgot how nervous he was at the sight of her, because she looked almost like an apparition, so otherworldly. He could see Sharon in her smile and in the way she carried herself, but first and foremost, he was blinded by her incredible joy at seeing her mother. He saw that same joy reflected in Sharon's eyes who was smiling warmly and reaching her arms out for her daughter. After a long, tight hug, Sharon took a step back.

"Let me look at you, Emily, you look so beautiful!"

Emily performed a perfect little turn that looked so effortless that it was almost dizzying. She really was beautiful. It was only now that Emily's gaze fell upon Andy and he felt himself being seized up immediately. The way her brow furrowed at the sight of him was slightly reminiscent of her grandfather and Andy's heart sank at the discovery.

"You must be Andy," she finally said and stepped towards him, stopping as far away as was possible while still able to give him a firm, but awkward handshake.

"Yes, hi Emily," he said. "You look fantastic."

They were behind the stage where preparations were underway for the premiere, people ushering groups of little children in costume back and forth while others were taking stock and shouting instructions. In the midst of it all, Emily stood, apparently completely unconcerned by what Andy's untrained eyes perceived as barely controlled chaos.

"Thanks," Emily said, smiling in a way that reminded Andy of Sharon when she was flustered.

"Did you two get here okay?" Emily asked. "Mom didn't go into labor in the car, I can see."

Sharon smiled and ran a hand over her stomach. "I had a word with your brother and asked him to wait just a little longer."

Emily almost grimaced at the word "brother", but seemed to catch herself just in time.

"About that, I can't come to Boston any time soon of course, so I wanted to give you this." She opened her bag and retrieved a little grey toy cat that looked slightly worn. "I thought he might want to have this one." She handed it to her mother and gave her a shy smile. Confused, Andy looked from her to Sharon and was surprised to find her eyes brimming with tears. Sharon pulled her daughter into another hug and kissed the top of her head. When she drew back, she wiped her eyes.

"Oh God, don't let me cry my mascara tears all over your costume," she said, chocking.

Emily chuckled. "It's fine. I think everything is okay. Look, Mom, I need to get going now, but I'll see you after, okay?"

Sharon nodded, clutching the cat to her chest.

"Best of luck, honey, you will do great! I can't wait to see you dance."

Emily nodded politely at Andy. "Nice meeting you, Andy."

When she had vanished, Andy knew that an effort had been made. Emily was understandably suspicious of his presence and maybe equally understandably wary of her mother's new baby that she could not get herself to call her brother yet. He looked at the old toy in Sharon's hands.

"Who is that?" he asked.

"Mister Whiskers," Sharon said, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. "Do I look okay?"

He knew that she meant the state of her make-up, but it gave him an opportunity to reflect on how beautiful she looked. When she had stepped out of the bathroom in their hotel room, he had had to catch his breath. Sharon was wearing a sleeveless black dress the skirt of which swirled around her knees. The neckline was plunging but narrow enough not to show off too much cleavage. She looked elegant and beautiful, walking confidently in her stiletto heels. He kissed her cheek.

"You look perfect, Sharon. So, Mister Whiskers?"

She caressed the cat's head. "He used to be Emily's favorite toy. She never went anywhere without him."

Andy understood her tears now. While Emily was not happy with the way things had turned out, the gift of her beloved childhood toy to her little brother was meant to show Sharon that she did care and she was trying to make peace with the situation. As Sharon had said, she would come around. Andy gently took her hand.

"Let's go and take our seats now, shall we?"