A scene in this chapter was what started this whole fic in my head. :) You might need a tissue or two for this chapter, but I think you'll all enjoy it. As always, I love reading everyone's reviews, so keep 'em coming. :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Rookie Blue.

Chapter 3

"You gotta talk to us, Andy." Sam was crouched in front of her where she sat on the couch in Oliver's office. She had a myriad of excuses to avoid talking in the hospital, but now they needed her to tell them what happened. Taking her statement was long overdue.

Oliver had insisted this be done in his office, instead of an interrogation room, to make her more comfortable. He'd closed the blinds from prying eyes and allowed only Steve - who was in charge of the investigation - and Sam in the room. Oliver sat on the opposite side of the room, while Steve sat near his desk with the camera that would record her statement.

But 15 minutes in and Andy hadn't spoken other than a 'thank you' when Steve handed her a coffee.

"You know we need to hear you tell us what happened. It's the only way to make sure these guys get put away forever," Sam said, as he rested a hand against her knee. Andy flinched at the contact and he pulled his hand back like he'd been scalded. He remembered a time when his touch would comfort her, but other than the moment he'd carried her out of the farmhouse, where her limp body collapsed around him, she pulled away anytime he got close. He wondered if that was the problem with why she wouldn't talk; the fact he was here.

"Do you want me to leave?" He couldn't imagine letting her do this alone, but if that was the only way she would talk, he'd pace a hole in the hallway. He didn't want the bastards who did this to her to get away with it.

"No." She spoke so softly, if it hadn't been so quiet in the room, he would have missed it.

"Then what can we do? What can I do?"

She shook her head and pulled her knees up to her chest. "I don't want to talk about it." It wasn't that she wanted her abductors to get away with anything, but she didn't know how to start talking about what she went through.

Sam's heart ached for the woman he loved, how sad and terrified her eyes were, how the usual fight in her was gone. He stood up and nodded for Steve to join him at the back of the room.

"I know McNally. She's stubborn. If she doesn't want to talk, nothing is going to get her to talk right now," Sam told him.

"Look, why don't we get the basics. Get her to at least ID the men who were involved, confirm she was kept in that house the whole three months," Steve replied, deciding they could find a middle ground that would still propel the investigation. "It would give us something for now, and help keep the guys in jail."

"Yeah, we can try that," Sam said, agreeing.

"Okay, but after this, you need to get her into therapy. We're going to need to get the rest of what happened to nail these guys for life," Steve said.

Sam nodded before they walked back over to Andy. Steve took his seat again and Sam sat on the couch next to her. Steve passed a folder over to his fellow detective. "Do you recognize any of these people, Andy?" Sam asked, opening the folder with a collage of photos. When Andy nodded, he pressed further. "Where do you recognize them from?"

"They're the men that took me," she said. She took a deep breath and pointed at one bald man. "He was in charge. They called him Jonah. That one…" she continued, pointing to another man. "Carlos. I think he was Jonah's right-hand man." She rattled off a few more names of men in the pictures she was shown, and it all matched up to what Steve already knew.

"Where did they take you?" Steve asked.

"Where you found me. I don't know where we were, but the inside of that house was all I ever saw." She was feeling anxious now, afraid they were going to start on more detailed questions about what happened. She wrung her hands together. "There were other girls, mostly young girls. I don't think they kept them though. Have you found them? Are they okay?"

Steve looked over at Sam and nodded, indicating it was okay to tell her. Sam rubbed his hand over his face as Andy looked back and forth between them. "They were trafficking children, Andy. The girls you saw were likely sold to the highest bidder. Only a handful have been tracked down so far."

Her head fell down to her knees and she began sobbing. It was all just too much for her to take. All Sam wanted to do was pull her close, wrap his arms around her and comfort her, but he feared his touch would make things worse right now.

Steve shut off the camera and stood up. "We can continue this later. Swarek, I'll give you a call later to discuss next steps."

Oliver stepped out of the office as Steve left and they stopped at the top of the stairs. "How long do you think we have to get the rest?" Oliver asked.

"There's a lot of paperwork with this case, a lot going on that isn't bringing attention to the fact we don't have her statement yet. I'll try to postpone things as much as I can, but we are going to need her full statement. These guys were good. We have some evidence, but to put them all away for life I need McNally," he explained.

Sam had to sign off on some paperwork on a few cases Traci had taken over from him, so while he was doing that Oliver sat with the young woman he thought of as a daughter. The horrors he imagined she was put through felt like a stab to his own heart. He handed her a blueberry muffin he'd grabbed from the break room.

"I'd ask how you were doing, but that seems like a stupid question," he said, sitting on the couch so he was facing her.

She broke off a piece of the muffin and popped it in her mouth. She looked over at him, her eyes red from crying. "It's hard," she said softly.

"I know. And I'm sure everyone keeps telling you it'll get better," he said. She nodded as she looked down at the muffin and pulled off another piece.

"You're strong, you fight through things. That's why we all believe it'll get better. We know you'll get through this," he told her.

"I wish I had the same confidence," she admitted.

"You can't do it alone, but we're all here to help. Sammy most of all, so let him," he suggested. Oliver knew that Sam had always been Andy's rock and she was going to need to lean on him now more than ever to get through this.

She gave him a tight smile with sad eyes. "I'm sorry I couldn't give my statement," she said softly. Oliver nodded understandingly, but it only made her feel worse. As a police officer, she knew how important it was for victims to document what happened to them with their statement, but she still couldn't manage to speak about what happened to her.

It wasn't long before Sam returned and had a word with Oliver outside the office before he and Andy headed home. They had a quiet afternoon; Sam gave Andy some space and tinkered around with his truck. She remained quiet, but helped Sam make dinner that night, a meal much healthier than the previous night.

A couple hours after dinner, Andy curled up on the couch, leaning against one side, her favorite blanket wrapped tight around her again. She stared blankly at the TV, even though Sam had put one of her favorite movies on. It was a comedy, but she couldn't even force a smile.

For all the months she'd been abused in that farmhouse, all she dreamed about was being back here with Sam in their home. But now that she was home, she wanted to be anywhere else - or nowhere else. She wanted to be lost, to stop feeling, to stop letting people down.

Sam walked into the room carrying two bowls. "Hey, got your favorite ice cream," he said, handing her a bowl.

"Thanks," she said, taking it from him.

He sat down at the opposite end of the couch and watched her poke her spoon around the bowl before finally bringing some to her mouth.

He promised Oliver he'd try to get Andy into therapy. He knew it was for the best, not just because of her statement but for her own health and recovery. Selfishly, he also wanted his McNally back. The woman in front of him wasn't the vibrant Andy he was used to.

"You know I'd do anything for you right?" he asked, shutting the TV off so he had her full attention.

"Of course," she replied, shifting to face him.

"So tell me what to do. Tell me how I can help you. I want to make this better for you," he said.

"I don't know," she said exasperated. "Don't you think if I knew how to stop this pain, I would? I'm screwed up, okay? I don't know if I can ever be...be me again. And I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to do."

Sam ran his tongue against his teeth as he thought how to respond. This was the most passion he'd seen from her since he carried her out of that house and he wanted to take advantage of it. "There are people that can help you figure it out," he finally said.

"I know you want to help, but I can't talk to you about this. I can't talk to any of you," she snapped back at him.

"You don't need to talk to me. But talk to someone, Andy," he suggested. "Years ago when you got back from undercover, you told me you liked the therapist Frank sent us to. Why not give her a call?"

"That was totally different. How do I know she can even help?" she wondered.

"You'll never know until you give it a try."

Andy chewed on that for a bit. It had been weeks and she still felt as lost as she did when she woke up in the hospital. Maybe Sam was right, and as much as she didn't want to talk to anyone, she needed to figure out how to move forward. She couldn't live like she was right now for the rest of her life. Maybe the therapist could help with that. "Okay, I'll call her in the morning."

Sam expected more of a fight, but her easy acceptance told him she really did want to talk to someone - just not him or her friends - and she simply needed a small push.

Andy called Dr. Dwyer the next morning as promised and found out she could see her the following day. The first session was difficult. Andy still found it hard to open up about what happened, but Dr. Dwyer had seen this before and knew what to do. She began with where Andy was before her world came crashing down. Andy smiled as she recalled how happy her and Sam were, how far they'd come since the last time she'd seen Dr. Dwyer. They didn't even discuss the abduction during the first session, but Dr. Dwyer felt it was a very successful hour and knew how to approach their next visit.

Ten days passed and Andy went to therapy for an hour every day. Dr. Dwyer wouldn't reveal details, but had informed Sam that Andy had started making progress. During the latest session, Dr. Dwyer and Andy discussed how she might start to get over her fear of even the most basic physical contact.

"Every time he touches me - I'm talking about a hand on the knee or shoulder, nothing even intimate - my body reacts like I've been scalded with burning hot water," Andy admitted as a teardrop slid down her cheek. "I don't know why it happens. He makes me feel safe. I want to feel his arms around me again. But my body just reacts this way."

"It's like re-teaching your mind that not all touches lead to pain. Why don't we try something," Dr. Dwyer suggested. "I want you to initiate contact, something simple. Do it on your terms, what you feel comfortable with. You are in control."

"Do I tell Sam this is what I'm doing?"

"That's up to you. You may find there's less pressure if you just do it versus talking about it with him, but you can make that decision," she replied.

Andy wasn't sure how this was going to work, but she was willing to give it a try.

That night as they watched TV after dinner, Andy scooted across the couch and laid her head on Sam's shoulder. It was difficult and Andy was doing everything in her power not to start trembling at the contact. She concentrated on taking slow, even breaths. Sam closed his eyes and forced himself not to wrap his arms around her. He knew this was progress and didn't want to scare her away. They sat like that for a few minutes and without realizing it, Sam moved his hand onto her thigh, immediately regretted it when she started trembling. He slid his hand away, not wanting to bring attention to how she reacted.

The harm was already done though and Andy jumped up, feeling ashamed. As she ran from the room, he shouted after her, "Andy, I'm sorry!"

He found her minutes later sitting cross-legged on their bed in tears. "I'm sorry, Sam. I'm sorry," she mumbled when she felt him in the doorway. She was still trembling when he walked over and placed a box of tissues in front of her.

"I'm sorry. I know how you're feeling and I wasn't thinking," he said softly, as he sat down on the bed, giving her space.

She was dumbfounded that he was taking the blame, when she put all of it on herself. "Sam, you touched my knee. You're my boyfriend and I freaked out when you touched my knee. You don't need to apologize."

"I want to help you. But I don't know how if you won't talk to me or tell me what I can do to help," he said.

"I'm damaged, Sam. I'm damaged and I can't tell you what happened. I can't…" She trailed off as her sobs got heavier.

"Andy, I love you. Look at me." He waited until she dabbed at her eyes with a tissue and looked at him. "Nothing you can ever tell me will make me think you're damaged. I want to know what happened so I can help you."

"I love you too, but…"

He could see in her eyes now that she wanted to tell him, but she was scared. He decided to take a risk because the night couldn't get much worse. He moved closer to her, but did so slowly as not to spook her. He took her hand in his, holding tight when she tried to pull away. More tears rolled down her cheeks, but she stopped trying to move away. She kept reminding herself that Sam would never hurt her and thought about what Dr. Dwyer had told her. Fighting against the fear that was paralyzing her, she curled her long fingers around the hand that gripped hers.

They stayed like that for several minutes, sitting on the bed staring at each other, but Andy's tears finally stopped and her breathing began to even out. Sam couldn't bear to see her like this and if she wouldn't tell him how he could help, he would follow her lead. There was a reason she reached out and rested her head on his shoulder when they were on the couch. She had finally calmed down after he took her hand in his, and now he was going to push it further. He hoped he wouldn't regret it, but he just didn't know what else to do.

"I love you," he whispered. "I love you." He repeated it over and over as he released her hand and wrapped his arms around her upper body. He pulled her against him and felt her body shaking against his chest.

He kept telling her how much he loved her and soon felt her hands grab fistfuls of his t-shirt as she began to sob again. Sam's heart was breaking. He could only imagine what the bastards had done to her and he wanted to rip each and every one of their heads off for hurting her. He let out a breath when he felt her hands finally circle their way around his waist. He tightened his hold on her and held her until she cried herself to sleep.

Without waking her, he pulled back the covers of their bed and laid her down. He got ready for bed and climbed in, rolling onto his side to stare at her sleeping form. He only hoped doing what he did was progress and that he hadn't hurt her more.

The next day, Andy told Dr. Dwyer what had happened. She felt like she had failed and expected the therapist to be disappointed in her. "Andy this is huge progress," she said to the young woman's surprise.

"But I ran away from him when he touched me. I failed at what you asked me to do."

"At first you ran away. But you told me he held you while you cried yourself to sleep. Correct?" When Andy nodded she continued. "You seem to ignore the important thing here. You allowed him to hold you."

Andy dabbed the tears from her eyes with a tissue and gave her a lopsided smile. She'd been so focused on the negative, she hadn't allowed herself to see the progress she'd made. "I did. And I guess I hugged him back even though I was shaking the whole time."

They spent the hour talking about the feelings Andy had overcome when she allowed Sam to hold her, when she stopped pulling away, and what she was feeling now. Andy still felt damaged, but acknowledged the progress she made. Dr. Dwyer warned her not to push it, but encouraged her to initiate physical contact and accept contact as she felt comfortable.

When she walked out of the office, Sam was waiting for her as usual. She gave him a small smile as she walked over to him, and his face showed his surprise when she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his neck. Giving the therapist a questioning look, she gave a small nod, and he wrapped his arms around Andy.

She was still feeling some anxiousness at the contact, but she knew if she had any chance of healing she would need to push herself. Lifting her head, she whispered "I love you" in his ear.

Sam was choked up and rubbed a hand up and down her back while he waited for his voice to steady. "I love you too."

The next day, Traci had plans to come over and spend some time with Andy, so Sam made plans of his own. Before Andy had gone missing, they'd talked many times about getting a dog, just as he had promised to do all those years before. They put it off for one reason or another, but since Andy had been back, he'd been researching how dogs helped people deal with grief or heal from tragedy.

He found that some dogs were even specially trained, but he knew Andy wouldn't want the constant reminder the rest of her life of what happened to her by looking at their dog. And he didn't want this dog to be all about what happened to her, but more a promise he finally made come true.

Knowing Andy was safe with Traci, Sam got in his truck and headed out of the city, to a woman whose dog recently had puppies. He'd seen an ad she posted and after speaking with her, he felt confident in purchasing one of the puppies. Three hours later, Sam was on his way back to the townhouse with a truck full of pet supplies - food, toys, a leash, a bed - and a small golden labradoodle puppy sitting in the passenger seat.

As the truck slowed to a stop in the driveway, the puppy sat up excitedly to see what was outside, paws on the door, panting hard enough to fog up the window. Sam glanced in the backseat and knew there was no way to manage bringing everything inside in one trip, so he ignored it and simply took hold of his new dog's leash as he opened the door. When the dog realized he didn't have to sit quietly in the truck anymore, he bounded from his spot over to the driver's seat before jumping down to the ground.

Sam chuckled as the dog tried to run circles around him. "Sit," he ordered when they finally got to the door. Sam shook his head when the dog's butt hit the ground for all of two seconds, before he was up again, his little tail wagging furiously as he stared at the door.

Once inside, Sam crouched down to unhook the dog's leash. "You gotta be good, okay. Calm," he whispered. "She's gonna love you, but she's fragile right now."

The dog crooked his head like he was really listening to his new owner, but a beat later, his eyes were wide and he was panting in excitement. Sam shook his head again in bewilderment. It was like the dog was waiting for an okay to go explore. "Go find Andy," he said with a chuckle.

Without hesitating, the dog went running directly to the living room where Andy was. It was like she was a homing beacon for the dog. Sam followed and was about to yell at the pup when it looked like he was about to jump up on Andy. But he watched as the dog halted right at her feet, sat his butt down on the floor and stared up her, tongue hanging out of his mouth. He let out a small bark, as if announcing himself to his new owner.

Andy looked from Traci to Sam as she reached down to ruffle the dog's fur on top of his head. "Sam, what's this?"

"He is a labradoodle. Your - our labradoodle. Unless…" He couldn't figure out the look on her face and wondered if he'd done the right thing surprising her this way.

"Can we name him Boo?" Andy asked, excitement filling her eyes that were still fixed on the dog.

Traci had been sitting there silently, watching the sight unfold before her, but took that as her cue to leave. She knew about a conversation had long ago about a labradoodle named Boo, and knew this was a moment for the couple to share alone. "I'm gonna get going," she said, standing. "Andy, call me, okay? I'm here if you need anything."

"Thanks for coming over, Trace," she said, watching her friend leave the room.

"See ya later, Nash," Sam said.

Andy picked the puppy up, much to his delight, and sat him on her lap. He excitedly stood up, back paws sliding around her thighs and front paws climbing her chest, as he bumped his nose against her cheek. She felt his wet tongue on her neck and giggled. Sam leaned against the doorframe, watching as this dog had lifted Andy's spirits for the first time since she'd been home. She was smiling and looked carefree as she played with the puppy.

"Can we?" she asked, moving her head here and there to dodge the puppies sloppy kisses.

"What?" Sam asked, having been lost in his own thoughts.

"Boo. Can we name him Boo?"

"Yeah, we can name him whatever you want."

"How do you like that name? Huh?" she asked the puppy. "Do you like the name Boo?" He let out two barks as if answering her question. "Can you sit? Sit, Boo." Getting one more swipe of his tongue against her jaw in, he planted his butt down on one leg before slowly lowering his body and resting his head on her other leg. She scratched between his ears and he nudged her knee with his nose appreciatively.

"I should get all his stuff out of the truck," Sam said pushing off the doorframe. "Did you know they even have special beds for dogs?"

Andy chuckled as she continued to pet Boo. "Yeah, I've seen them."

"Well, I'm just gonna get everything," he said, starting to walk away.

"Sam," she called out, making him stop. "I don't know what brought this on, but thank you. I love him."

The smile gracing her lips was all Sam needed. His own lips curved up in return. "Thought it was about time I made good on that promise."

As she watched Sam walk away, she knew there was more to it than that. She knew he just wanted to see her happy again. Andy swiped away a stray tear that rolled down her cheek. She knew she would never be more loved than by Sam. And she knew she could never love anyone more than she did him. In that moment, she promised herself to keep pushing forward and to not give up on her recovery. She needed to get better for the both of them.

"Hey Boo," she said, and the dog's ears perked up. "Let's go see what goodies daddy bought you." As she stood up and placed Boo on the floor, he looked up at her and barked excitedly.