Author's Note: Thank you for the continued reviews and support! This is the last chapter but the epilogue will be up in the next few days. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue.

Andy took a cab down to the hospital. She paid the driver and then sprinted inside the emergency room, quickly searching the waiting area for Boyd.

She found him sitting in one of the hard plastic chairs against a wall. "Where is he?" Andy asked, running up to him.

Boyd saw her coming and stood up before she got to him, holding his hands out in caution. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," he said, slowing her down. "They took him up to surgery."

"Surgery?" She repeated, her eyebrows shooting up. "You said it wasn't serious."

"I'm not a doctor," Boyd snapped.

"Well why did he have to go to surgery?" Andy asked. "I thought he had his vest on?"

"He did," Boyd told her, "But he took one in the arm too. Apparently it hit an artery…" he trailed off, shaking his head, "I guess they're having to sew it up."

"You guess?" Andy asked, her eyes flashing with anger at his incompetence. Her voice raised, she continued, "You didn't ask?"

"No," Boyd replied defensively, matching her volume. "I thought I'd let the doctors do their job. I'm not here to hold your boyfriend's hand, McNally."

Andy narrowed her eyes at him in a withering stare. "You are absolutely useless," she said after a moment, turning sharply on her heel. She went up to the nearest person in scrubs she could find, asking, "Can you tell me anything about Sam Swarek? He was an officer brought in here about an hour ago? Gun shot wound?"

"Are you family?" The doctor asked.

"No," Andy answered honestly, "But I am his partner."

"Do you have your badge and ID?"

Andy searched frantically through the pockets of her coat, realizing with a sinking feeling that she had forgotten to grab her badge. "I don't have it on me," she admitted.

The man shook his head regretfully, walking off. "I'm sorry, we can't give out information about our patients."

Andy groaned, irritated with herself and frustrated with the lack of information. She glanced futilely around the room, trying to figure out what she should do next. Remembering what hospital she was at, she made her way to the nurse's station and asked, "Is Monica working?"

A nurse looked up from her clipboard, eyeing Andy. "Monica who?"

Andy threw up her hands, her usual politeness gone. "I don't know her last name, how many nurses do you have named Monica?"

The lady glared at her and then answered, "Monica works day shift. She won't be here for another five hours."

Andy sighed and then, belatedly remembering her manners, thanked the nurse before turning away.

"McNally!" A familiar voice called out to her. She turned to the entrance of the emergency room to see Oliver entering through the automatic sliding doors.

Andy could have cried in relief at the sight of him. "Oliver," she said, meeting him in the middle of the room. Oliver held his arms open and she fell into them, asking, "What are you doing here?"

"Frank called me," he told her. "He'll be down here as soon as he can. What's going on?"

Andy pulled back, shaking her head. "Sam's in surgery but I can't get anyone to tell me anything."

"What happened?"

Andy gestured to Boyd, who was making his way over to them. "I don't know, Boyd wouldn't tell me over the phone."

Boyd joined them and held out his hand in greeting, "Shaw." Andy fought to keep from rolling her eyes at the difference in tone he had when speaking to Oliver as opposed to her.

"Boyd," Oliver acknowledged sharply, reluctantly shaking the other man's hand. "What the hell happened?"

Boyd exhaled heavily and then, ducking his head to speak privately to them, said, "One of my guys found out about a big house party going on down on Jarvis. I wanted to send him in with backup so I called Sammy."

"Okay," Oliver said slowly, prompting Boyd to continue.

Boyd glanced around and then admitted, "I didn't know that some of Hill's guys were there. They made him as soon as he walked in the door."

Andy's eyes widened with realization and disbelief. "You sent him to a party with Anton Hill's people?"

"Would you keep your voice down?" Boyd scolded, glaring at people in the waiting room who had turned to look at them. "I didn't know they were going to be there. My info was…" he paused, choosing his words carefully. "Spotty."

"Spotty?" Andy repeated incredulously, not heeding Boyd's plea to keep her voice down or caring about the group of onlookers they had attracted. "Spotty? Why didn't you just line him up in front of a firing range, huh?" She asked furiously, shoving Boyd backwards before lunging at him. She landed a couple of decent punches before Oliver pulled her away.

"Okay, okay," Oliver said, trying to calm her down.

Andy fought against him, yelling at Boyd. "He could have been killed, you son of a bitch!"

"You better watch yourself rookie," Boyd responded angrily, pointing at her. "I'm your superior officer."

His taunting only enraged Andy more and Oliver had to physically drag her away from him, moving her across the room into a secluded corner. "I know you're mad, I am too," he told her, his voice even and calm. "But you're not helping Sam right now."

Andy took a deep breath and clenched her fists at her side. "I knew it," she seethed. "I knew he was going to get hurt working for Boyd."

"How long has he been doing this?" Oliver asked, having obviously been kept in the dark.

"A few months," Andy answered quietly, running a hand over her forehead, trying to massage away the headache that had suddenly formed. "I found out about it a couple of weeks ago, when I started staying with him."

Oliver just nodded, processing the information. "Okay, so, we know he's in surgery, right?"

"Yeah," Andy said, "Boyd said he took a couple in the vest, which thank god he had that on, and then a couple in the arm. I guess it hit an artery or something, I… I…," she stammered anxiously, "I don't know. No one will tell me anything because I'm not his family and I don't have my badge with me."

"Okay," Oliver said, taking charge and guiding her towards a bank of elevators. "Let's go up to the OR and try to find someone there that will talk to us."

"Yeah, yeah, okay." Andy agreed, relieved to have someone she trusted telling her what to do. "Good idea."

They made their way up to the operating room waiting area and Oliver told Andy to sit tight while he went to find out what was going on. He returned a few minutes later, handing her a cup of coffee. "Here you go," he said, sitting next to her.

"Thanks," she replied quietly. "What did you find out?"

"He's still in there," Oliver said, sipping on his own coffee. "Boyd was right, it's his arm. The doctor I spoke to said he had a couple of broken ribs but that a bullet hit his brachial artery, that's what he's in surgery for."

"So he's going to be okay, right? I mean, it's just his arm."

"It looks like it, but you can never be certain with these things," Oliver said, trying not to sugarcoat anything. "He lost a lot of blood Andy."

Andy nodded, worrying her bottom lip. "Someone needs to call Sarah," she said. "She's his next of kin and I doubt Boyd did."

"You want to wait until his surgery is over?" Oliver asked. "It's the middle of the night."

"No," Andy shook her head. "She'll want to know." Oliver made a move to stand up, but Andy put her hand on his knee, stopping him. "It's okay," she said, standing up. "I'll do it."

Andy quickly contacted the station to get Sarah's number from Sam's file and then made the call. Sarah was, understandably, very worried and told Andy she would be at the hospital as soon as she could.

"Andy," Sarah said before hanging up. "You'll be with him when he wakes up, right?"

Andy swallowed hard. "Yeah," she replied. "Yeah, I'm not going anywhere."

They said goodbye and hung up. When Andy got back to Oliver, Frank Best was with him, along with Boyd. She avoided Boyd's eye line and greeted her staff sergeant with a quick hug.

"McNally," he said, patting her back. "How you doing?"

Andy gave a small smile, suddenly feeling awkward. They would have told Best about their relationship eventually, but it was obvious from her state of dress and dishevelment that Andy was there not as a fellow police officer but as Sam's… girlfriend? Lover? Neither label seemed to fit.

"I'm fine," she told him, "Thanks."

He put his hand on her shoulder in a comforting gesture. "He's going to be okay."

Andy just nodded before taking her seat again next to Oliver. He slung his arm around her shoulder, settling it across the back of her seat, and she gratefully leaned against him, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose.

Time passed slowly, Andy must have checked her watch a hundred times. She couldn't help but think back to when Luke had been shot and she'd sat in the same chairs next to Sam. That experience had been horrifying but the thought of losing Sam… her pulse quickened and her breath hitched just thinking about it, so she didn't let herself go there.

Finally the surgeon came out and they all stood up to speak with him. He said that the surgery had gone well and that Sam was in recovery.

"Who is McNally?" He asked, looking between the assembled officers.

"I am," Andy said, raising a timid hand.

The surgeon looked at her. "Officer Swarek," he paused, his lips quirking into a half smile, "Made it very clear, in no uncertain terms, that you should be allowed back to see him. I think he might have scared some of my nurses." A quiet laughter rumbled through the group as they all imagined the conversation that must have taken place. "If you want," the surgeon said, "I'll take you back now."

Andy hesitated for a moment, she wasn't sure why exactly, but Oliver put a hand on her back, pushing her forward. With a flick of the wrist he instructed, "Go."

The doctor took her back and pointed her to one of the private rooms. "He's right in there."

Andy entered the room cautiously, taking a deep breath when she saw him. Sam's eyes were closed and she didn't think that he heard her come in so she stood at the door, quietly inspecting him from afar. His arm was in a sling and wrapped with some sort of dressing and he was hooked up to machines and IVs. The persistent beep of the heart rate monitor was reassuring, in an odd way.

She was most struck by how fragile he seemed lying there in the hospital bed. Normally he looked so strong and commanding, like nothing could touch him.

Her musings were cut off by a hoarse whisper. "Nice pants."

Her eyes flew up to meet his and she found him looking at her with bleary, unfocused eyes.

Andy looked down at herself and smiled, her face flushing. After getting Boyd's call she had frantically grabbed the nearest items of clothing, which meant that underneath her coat, which she had kept on, she was still wearing his t-shirt and her plaid pajama pants. "Well," she replied, "I remembered you have a thing for flannel."

He just grinned at her and then asked gruffly, "Why are you all the way over there?"

She shrugged and bit her lip, nervously shuffling from one foot to the other. "Thought you might want some space.

"Ah," he replied, understanding. He remembered the conversation they'd had following Callaghan's shooting when he had advised Andy to just give the guy some space. Gingerly, he maneuvered himself to the side of the small bed. He waved his hand, motioning her over. "I don't want space."

It was all the invitation that Andy needed. She crossed the room and sat on the bed next to Sam, wrapping her arms around him as best she could. He let her hug him for a moment before grimacing and reminding her, "Okay, okay, broken ribs."

She pulled back quickly wearing an expression of horror, "I'm so sorry! Did I hurt you?"

"No, no," Sam told her, settling his hand on her hip. "It's fine."

Andy ran her hand up his good arm before cupping it around his jaw. He turned his head and pressed a kiss against her palm, making her smile. "Are you in much pain?"

Sam was about to lie to her but she raised an eyebrow, clearly warning him not to, so he admitted, "A little. Mostly just sore though. Whatever medicine they've got me on is good stuff."

Andy nodded and then leaned forward, careful not to push any added pressure on his chest, and pressed her lips against his in a sweet, gentle kiss.

When she pulled back he winked at her, "That's the best kind of medicine there is."

Andy rolled her eyes. Not even an hour out of surgery and he was already back to charming her. She looked him over carefully and then, seemingly out of nowhere, punched his good arm.

"Ow!" Sam exclaimed, more in disbelief than pain. "What the hell was that for?"

"For scaring me half to death, you jackass," Andy yelled, sitting up straighter on the bed. "I told you that you would get hurt helping Boyd."

"I really don't think now is the best time to play 'I told you so', McNally," Sam said, reminding her, "I did just get out of surgery."

"I know, I'm sorry, I was just…" In her frustration, she wanted to hit him again, but refrained. Quietly, she admitted, "I was really worried about you."

Sam smiled at the confession. "Yeah?"

She nodded. "Boyd called me and I ran out of the house so fast I didn't even think to put a bra on."

"Oh really?" Sam asked, grinning and raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Andy said, ignoring the innuendo in his voice, "And I got to tell you, hugging my staff sergeant without a bra on is not something I ever wanted to experience."

"Frank's out there?"

Andy nodded, "And Oliver and Boyd. They probably want to see you."

Sam shrugged, "They can wait." He tugged on her hand, and she willingly let him pull her down beside him. She stretched her legs out on the small bed and then curled against his side, carefully resting her head against his shoulder.

After the emotional night, Andy was more grateful than ever to be in the comfort and safety of Sam's arms. She sighed and placed her hand on his chest, trailing her fingers through the hair there. "I'm sorry," she said quietly, in almost a whisper.

"What for?" Sam asked. "It wasn't your fault."

She shook her head, "Not that. About earlier. The fight."

"People fight, Andy," Sam said, "It's going to be okay."

She pushed herself up to look at him. "I want you to know something." He raised an eyebrow, gently encouraging her to continue. "I don't know if I would still be with Luke or not, if he hadn't slept with Jo," she admitted honestly, her voice shaking. "But I do know that there's no one I'd rather be with than you."

Sam's eyes were soft as he smiled at her. "I don't want to be with anyone but you, either," he admitted, brushing his lips over hers.

"Good to know," Andy replied sweetly, kissing him once more before settling back down beside him. She took a deep breath and added, "And I'm sorry I didn't say goodbye. I heard you leave but I just… pretended to be asleep."

"I knew you were awake," Sam told her quietly, his voice holding no accusation.

She looked up at him, "How?"

Sam smirked at her. "You're not as good of a faker as you think, McNally."

"Oh really?"

Sam just nodded and then smiled. "It's okay. I figured you were still upset."

"I was," Andy said, "But that seems like a really stupid reason now." She paused, running her fingers up and down his forearm, "I can't even imagine if you had been…" she shook her head, unable to finish the sentence. "If it had been more serious."

"Hey," Sam said, getting her attention. "I'm going to be fine. We're going to be fine."

"I know," She nodded, feeling tears prickle her eyes. "I gotta say though, this was a hell of a way to win an argument."

"So you're saying I won the argument?" Sam asked, surprised.

"Well for the short term at least," Andy said, laughing as she wiped her fingers her eyes. "Someone's going to have to take care of you."

Sam cleared his throat. "And the for long term?"

Andy looked at him seriously. "I had a long time to think about it," she said, "And I think I've come up with a pretty good compromise."

"I can't wait to hear it," Sam told her, yawning.

She realized how exhausted he must have been and knew it wasn't the best time to discuss important decisions related to their future. "Can we talk about it later?" She asked, "When you're not doped up on heavy painkillers?"

Sam just nodded in agreement. There were still issues that needed to be discussed and hurts that needed to be mended, but none of it seemed that important right then.

"Let's get back to this no bra thing," he said, running his fingers down the buttons of her coat.

She quirked an eyebrow. "Really?" She asked, skeptically. "You're still thinking about that?"

"I'm injured," Sam reminded her, "Not dead."

She giggled and slapped his hands away. "And we're in hospital room where anyone could walk in at any minute. Including our boss."

"Just take your jacket off," he said, frowning. "Come on."

She shook her head, refusing, but when he whispered, "Please," and looked at her with those brown eyes of his, she relented.

"Fine," she groaned, standing up to slip off her coat. He grinned appreciatively at her and then beckoned her back to him. She climbed onto the bed and covered them with her coat, effectively hiding his very wandering hands from anyone who might walk in. As she settled back in next to him, she said, "I have a confession to make."

"What's that?" Sam asked, not fully paying attention to what she was saying.

"I hit Boyd," she admitted, wincing. "A couple of times actually."

Sam chuckled. "You did?"

"I did," Andy replied, trying her best to act ashamed. "Oliver had to pull me away from him."

"Wow," Sam said, drawing the word out. "Why?"

Andy sighed and rolled her eyes, "Because he's an idiot who almost got you killed."

Sam just nodded, his reactions slowed by the medicine he was on. After a moment he grinned widely and asked, "So how was it?"

Andy shrugged and failed to hold back her satisfied grin. "It felt pretty good."

"I'm glad," Sam said, laughing heartily. "I wish I could have seen it."

They stayed huddled together for a few more minutes until a nurse came in and told him that Sarah had arrived. There could only be one visitor at a time, so Andy reluctantly left his side and pulled her coat on, promising him she would be back.

Sam was released from the hospital a day later with a prescription for painkillers and orders for physical therapy and rest. As Andy suspected, the physical therapy part was easier to get him to do than the rest part.

Not being able to go to work and not being able to do… other things, was starting to take its toll on Sam. One afternoon, as she was cleaning up the kitchen, he came up behind her and wrapped his arm around her waist, planting sloppy kisses down her neck.

"Sam!" She gasped, surprised by his presence. She turned around to look at him and said sternly, "You're supposed to be taking a nap!"

"I'm not a five year old McNally," he said, ignoring her look of consternation. "I don't want to take a nap."

"Well you certainly sound like a five year old," she replied as she backed away from him and went back to what she was doing.

He sighed, frustrated, and leaned against the counter. "Come take the nap with me," he said petulantly, trying another tactic.

She cut her eyes over to him, willing to do what he asked but obviously skeptical of his motives. "Will you actually sleep if I go in there?"

He grinned and, taking the opening, moved over to her again, blocking her in against one of the counters. "I'm not making any promises," he said, reaching up to twirl her hair through his fingers.

"Forget it, Sam. You heard what the doctor said," She warned, a hand on his chest to keep him from getting any closer to her. "No exertion. And you're not supposed to put any weight on your arm."

"Who says I'm going to put weight on my arm?" Sam asked, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. "We can be creative. Come on, it'll be fun."

"No," she said sharply, darting around him before he could stop her.

"Damn it, McNally," Sam exclaimed, giving up on trying to woo her, "Why won't you just have sex with me?"

"Because," she replied easily, "You were shot four days ago, you have two broken ribs and a bullet hole in your arm. You don't need to get your blood pressure up. It's not good for you."

"You know what's not good for me?" Sam retorted irritably, raising his voice. "You flitting around here and taking care of me like my own personal hot little nurse and then not letting me participate in the fantasy." Andy tried not to smile, but she couldn't help but find his obvious frustration amusing. "Don't look at me like that," he finished. "It's not funny."

"It is a little funny," she said, taking pity on him and sidling back up next to him, resting her hands on his chest. "It's not like I enjoy it either Sam…"

"Good," Sam concluded, cutting her off. "You don't enjoy it, I don't enjoy it. Let's go have sex."

Andy exhaled heavily and Sam grinned when he realized she was actually considering it.

"You know you want to," he prodded. He dipped his head down to trace his tongue along the shell of her ear, sending shivers down her spine, and whispered huskily, "You miss me, admit it."

Andy rolled her eyes and groaned. "Fine," she conceded, giggling as he quickly grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards the bedroom. "But I'm on top."

"Well only if you insist," Sam agreed sarcastically, shutting the door behind them.

A week later, Oliver was helping Sam carry boxes into Andy's new apartment. As part of the compromise she and Sam had agreed to, Andy still planned to move into the apartment, but she only signed a three-month lease, the shortest time period allowed.

"So," Oliver said, huffing as he made his way up the stairs, "Explain the purpose of this to me again."

"Purpose of what?" Sam asked, carefully navigating around the stacks of boxes outside of her door.

"Andy having her own apartment," Oliver clarified. "Seems a little unnecessary."

"That's what I said," Sam told him. "But for some reason she thinks it's important."

Oliver dropped the box he was carrying in the living room. "Why are you going along with it?" He asked, scratching his stomach.

"I don't know man," Sam said, sighing as he set down a smaller box. "I'm just doing what I'm told so she'll let me see her naked every once and awhile."

Oliver clapped his friend on the back. "It's like you're already married," he said mockingly.

Andy came out of the back room and put her hands on her hips. "Oliver!" She scolded, "You weren't supposed to let him carry anything heavy."

Oliver held his hands up innocently, "I tried to tell him, but he didn't listen. You know how stubborn he can be."

Andy pointed her finger at Sam as she made her way out of the apartment, "I'm serious Sam. Nothing heavy. Pillows, towels, that kind of thing."

Oliver watched Andy leave and then turned back to Sam, grinning knowingly.

"Whatever," Sam said, shrugging it off. "She nagged me before we got together."

"You are whipped, my brother," Oliver taunted. "Ball and chain."

"Oh yeah?" Sam responded smoothly, "How was that concert the other night?"

Oliver's smile immediately fell from his face. "How'd you know about that?"

"Tell me something, I've always wondered," Sam said, folding his arms over his chest and looking at his friend intently. He was serious for a moment and then grinned, "Is Justin Bieber as little in person as he seems on TV?"

"Shut up."