She returned a short time later, not feeling any better, but she knew she had to look a bit more presentable. Her state before was disastrous, as confirmed when she returned to the condo and really got a look at herself in the mirror. Sharon didn't think she'd ever looked that bad, not even after having two children. She'd put her clothes in a garbage bag; they weren't covered in blood or anything, but she didn't have the strength to deal with them. While her heart told her there could only be one outcome to Andy's situation, her brain and logical side told her that things could go very badly, and right now, those clothes were too much of a reminder of what her life had been like the last couple days. She didn't want to see them or deal with them, yet. They'd sit, and she would decide later.
Later, what was that? How long was Andy going to be unconscious? Would he wake up? He had to wake up. Something terrible could happen, and he could throw a clot. That was a possibility. The doctors discussed the various possibilities with Sharon and Provenza, both nodding as they looked onward at their friend. He had to wake up. There wasn't another option.
Armed with two cups of coffee, two take out containers of soup, bread, and muffins, Sharon entered the area again. She knew she wasn't supposed to really be eating in here, but she dared any of the nurses to say anything to her. She'd eat quickly, but she was going to eat. While she hadn't slept, she could feel her body fighting against her, rebelling for lack of food and sleep. She'd give in on one matter, food, for now.
Provenza looked up from his crossword and frowned at her, "I'm not sure you look much better," he said with a note of sarcasm, but at the same time, Sharon knew he was being serious. "You should have gotten some sleep."
"I'll be fine, she sighed, as she pulled up the other chair in the room. She handed the bag of food to Provenza, along with a cup of coffee for him, "Anything?" she asked.
His lips turned downward, "No. The doctor was in, and he would have waited for you to come back to update both of us, but he said there was no update, no change."
Sharon sighed and took a deep breath as she looked over at Andy, still no change. He was breathing again, something she continually liked to confirm, but his face was void of emotion, well, except the emotional baggage she could see he was carrying on his face in the wrinkles, lines, and even scars. She frowned as she looked back to Provenza, "Did he have any idea when Andy would wake up?"
Provenza offered a slight shake of the head, barely an answer, but Sharon saw that he was saying no, "He reminded me that it's still touch and go. They are monitoring him closely to make sure he doesn't throw a clot or anything worse. You know his heart isn't the best either, hasn't been for a few years."
"I know," Sharon closed her eyes briefly. "We talked about his next cardiology appointment just before the accident. He was complaining about it to Rusty and me. We'd gone to the Dodger game, the three of us, and he was irritated that he was a bit out of breath just walking to the seats. So, I'd asked him about his next appointment, and he said it was coming up. It was probably about now," she thought. "Should we tell his-"
Provenza cut her off by patting her hand, "His cardiologist is aware; he's been in and out of here too, remember?"
Sharon shook her head at her mistake, "That's right. I'm just not thinking clearly."
"Because you need sleep. You need to eat too, so eat," he nudged her toward the bag of food she had in her lap. Provenza opened his bag, as to almost coax Sharon to do the same. She followed, blindly almost, going through the motions of spoon to mouth, spoon to mouth, and repeat. She did that until the bowl was empty and tackled the bread. The muffin she would save for later. Before she knew it, she'd finished a meal. She must have been hungrier than she even realized because as she gathered the trash, she looked over to Provenza, and he was still nursing his soup, only about half of it gone.
"I can't imagine why he keeps taking you to dinner if you eat like that. You scarfed it down. Why Flynn is attracted to a binge eater like that, I don't get," Provenza said with a shake of his head.
Sharon smiled slightly at his attempt to lighten the mood; she knew Provenza was trying to get her mind off the lingering tension.
"I don't know why he keeps taking me to dinner, either," she sighed. "Looking at it with a bit of perspective, I've been a lousy person to him. I don't know why he's continued to bother," she said softly, scooting closer to Andy's bedside and touching his hand again. She almost jerked her hand back; his hand was cool, much cooler than she remembered, but maybe she'd just been used to it before from sitting with him so long. She pulled back briefly, shocked at the coolness, but after glancing at the machine again and seeing his chest move in breath after breath, she touched his hand again. As much of a shock as it was to find it so cold, she wasn't about to let go of it now.
"Because he loves you, has for years," Provenza said as he slurped his soup, as if this was a perfectly normal conversation they had all the time. "Honestly, I thought by now, you two idiots had talked about this, you had politely turned him down, choosing to just remain good friends, and he was just dealing with all his emotions. I told you-he's been distant with me, not saying anything about you lately. I thought you'd talked, and he didn't want to tell me what had gone on. I've always thought the two of you had a strange relationship, but Puppy Dog Flynn seemed happy enough, until recently. That's why I thought you'd talked. Sharon," he said, and that got her attention, because he rarely used her name. This setting, if any, was definitely the place to use it. "Sharon, he's loved you for years. I guess since you haven't talked about it, he was afraid. He was probably realizing more and more what he was feeling and didn't want to chance it, so being the idiot he is, said nothing. You're a whole different level of idiot, only now realizing what the world has seen for years."
She pursed her lips, prepared to answer, but instead, shook her head again, and she turned back to Andy, "He can be so strong-willed."
She felt Provenza's glare before she saw it, catching his eye roll too, "As if you aren't? I'd say that's why you're in the state you are in right now. If you think he's strong-willed, look in the mirror. I think you'll find someone even more strong-willed staring back at you."
She nodded, looking down, as one hand rubbed Andy's hand absentmindedly, "You're right," she shrugged. "Looking back, I think I was a goner myself a long time ago. I got comfortable though," she sighed. "I got comfortable that he was always there. He was always first in my line of sight at work, first to jump and help me with anything, first to offer support for whatever; he's always been there, and I've gotten too comfortable. I didn't need to think about what I was going to do on Friday night; he was always there. I didn't need to think about meals during the week, because if we weren't at work, we usually ate together. I didn't need to think about who I was going to call to fix the bathroom sink or Rusty's closet door because he did it for me. I didn't need to worry about taking Rusty's car for new tires because in dinner conversation, when Rusty mentioned it, he jumped in and took care of it. I took advantage of the comfort, thinking he'd always be there. I avoided any real conversations because I felt like things were going along fine as they were. I'm an idiot," she sighed.
"You are," Provenza said, biting a huge chunk of bread off as he sat and chewed it. "An idiot in love with said idiot," he pointed to Andy. "You both failed before, for various reasons. He was too scared to talk about things with you for fear of scaring you away, so he left it. He was comfortable too. You were too scared to admit feeling anything because that would force you to actually act on it, so you left it too. You both hid behind your kids, your work, everything because it was easy. Comfort never lasts forever. I think of things that are comfortable-couches, reclines, good mattresses-none of them last forever. Eventually, the comfort is gone. You've worn out the comfort at this point," he said pointedly.
Sharon continued to rub her thumb across Andy's hand as she listened to Provenza, "Do you suppose it is too late?" she asked him with a worried expression.
Provenza met her gaze and shook his head, "He'll wake up. You're the one with all the faith; have faith he will wake up. As for all this," he waved between the two, "no, I don't think it's too late. Neither of you have any better offers. No one can stand either of you quite frankly," he offered a slight smirk. "What does the world do to two people whom no one else can stand? They are forced together, so no, I don't think it's too late. Now, I'm going to use the restroom, walk around, and check in with Mike. I know you said yesterday you didn't care about work, almost causing me to pass out, but I'll see what updates we have. We haven't been thrown any cases, which helps a great deal. Talk to him," Provenza suggested. "The doctors always say they believe patients can hear others talking to them. Start with that. I surely don't want to sit here and be your shrink, so talk to that idiot there. Think of it this way-at least he'll listen and not walk away from you."
Sharon offered him a horrified look at that last comment, and he stood patting her free hand, the one not on Andy's hand, "Just seeing if that fighter, the captain, is still in there. There's still a spark alive in you, a spark to fight, so talk and make him fight too. It's all you've got left at this point."