A/N: Just wanted to thank everyone for the wonderful feedback - made my days bright =)
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Back at home however, Sharon was tight-lipped and short with words. Edgy and nervous in a fashion that Rusty had never experienced when it came to her. It reminded him of a hurt animal; reminded him of that feeling that had directed his actions back when he had received all those threatening letters – fear of being taken away from her. It was not a vivid fear he detected in her but something that hid, something that was vague and exhausted.
He found Tylenol in the cabinet in the bathroom, guiding her to recline on the sofa, giving her a glass of water to swallow the pills with. He watched her pained expression when she took the pills; he wondered how much she was hurting. She seemed tired, no protests when he draped a blanket over her, no protests but a sigh when he tucked the edges of the blanket around her. She curled around a pillow, eyes far away as she looked out the window.
Rusty silently went to the kitchen, putting water in the kettle, taking out her favorite mug. Sharon liked ginger tea with mint, so he found the special blend she had stored away behind the other varieties of teas. Waiting for the water to boil, Rusty looked over his shoulder, watching the top of her head on the sofa. It tugged at his heart – he hated seeing her upset. That she had yet to admonish lieutenant Provenza for taking Rusty out of school yet was a clear sign she was not herself; that she had yet to ask how Rusty's day had been was another indication.
Tea mug in hand he approached her, gingerly setting the mug down on the sofa table. He sat down at the other end of the sofa; her feet snuggled into the blanket close to him.
She gave him a soft look.
"Was it a hostage situation? A suspect that did that to you?" Rusty prodded, keeping his voice soft and low, then on an afterthought, "I made you ginger tea"
Her lips curved, her eyes on the tea mug.
Tentatively she sat upright, slowly, taking the mug.
Rusty watched her in profile.
Sharon took a sip of the tea, her eyes closing for just a fraction and she breathed out, the exhalation sounding both sad and relived at the same time.
"You know," she started, eyes finding his and to Rusty's surprise she was looking at him with the softest of expressions, regarding him with a tender appreciation in her eyes that made Rusty believe everything was going to be alright, "It's a nightmare that's over and done with."
She went silent and for a moment Rusty thought she would leave it at that. He hesitated, wanting to ask her to recount exactly what had happened, exactly how she had gotten those bruises down to the smallest detail. She spoke again however.
"I suppose it will be classified as an aggravated assault on a police officer," she seemed to mull over the words and Rusty agreed with her, it sounded foreign to him too, "though - " she stopped.
"Though?"
"Though," her smile was brief but there, "It's hard to explain."
Rusty nodded, "Was it similar to when - " he ran his hand along the armchair of the sofa, looking away, "You know when Stroh tried to kill me in Brenda's house? Was the person deliberately trying to kill you?"
Out of the corner of his eye Rusty saw Sharon moving closer to him – he felt her hand on his shoulder.
"Similar yes – but also different," he looked at her and she continued, her hand now soft around his shoulder, "None of us expected it, so it caught us by surprise."
"It was one of your suspects?"
"Yes; he didn't like the deal we had prepared for him."
"Oh. What about Lieutenant Flynn? What happened to his face?"
She withdrew her hand, her expression quickly turning impassive as if she was trying to hide something, "He – well," she stopped, shook her head, and then in a clear voice, "He got into it with the suspect."
Rusty nodded. Leaning closer to Sharon, his shoulder next to hers he asked her, "Are you alright, though?"
"It's over and I'm fine – that's what's important, okay?"
He nodded even though he wasn't sure she was fine.
Sharon drank some more tea, and then along with the TV remote she leaned back in the sofa; she turned the TV on and to Rusty's surprise she flipped to a cartoon channel.
Her smile was self-aware yet amused; Rusty smiled and leaned back as well, content to watch uncomplicated television with her; it was something to hold your line of sight as well as let your worries float away.
Sharon giggled and Rusty laughed with her. They made soup, drank more tea and snuggled into a blanket each as they watched Disney.
A little after nine Sharon yawned.
"I'm exhausted so I'll go to bed now," she said, slowly folding the blanket. She rose and took the empty tea mug with her to the kitchen. Rusty heard the water faucet running and the clink of Sharon putting the mug into the sink.
Rusty watched her pad past him, a smile and a soft 'goodnight'.
The doorbell rang not long after Rusty had decided to go to bed as well. At first he was sure it was a figment of his imagination but when it rang again followed by a loud knock, Rusty hurried out into the hallway, mindful of getting to the door before the commotion woke up Sharon.
To his surprise he saw lieutenant Flynn through the peephole.
Apprehensive, Rusty opened the door.
"Sharon's asleep," he greeted the lieutenant.
"Hey kid," Flynn started, his voice gruff but he was interrupted by Sharon suddenly standing behind Rusty, two hands on his shoulders.
"It's late lieutenant – what are you doing here?"
Flynn rolled his eyes, "Thought I would check in – see whether you're still breathing." The older man sounded vaguely annoyed.
Sharon guided Rusty away from the doorway, "You can go to bed again, Rusty."
"Sharon," he protested but Sharon merely pushed him in the direction of the hallway and his room, Flynn coming inside and closing the front door behind him.
Rusty shook his head but obliged, walking slowly to his room. He didn't close the door all the way though, standing just inside his room listening to the two adults out in the hallway, their voices easily carrying.
"What do you want?" Sharon sounded tired Rusty thought.
"Is it so hard to believe I want to know if you're alright? I don't have ulterior motives, Sharon," Flynn sounded exasperated now.
"I'm tired, Andy, my head's throbbing and every time I swallow or breathe it hurts."
Rusty nearly went out into the hallway then, almost on the verge of wanting to tell Flynn to leave them alone and let Sharon simply sleep but he lingered, curiosity keeping him still. There was a familiarity to their conversation that he found peculiar.
"I'm sorry," Flynn stated, voice gravelly, "I just wanted to make sure you're alright, okay?"
Sharon hummed.
There was silence for a short while; Rusty was about to peek out into the hallway when Sharon spoke again, "I know – I know," her voice sounded muffled.
Another little moment of silence, then "I could stay."
The words surprised Rusty, his mouth opening.
"Andy," Sharon's voice was tender now, a breath of air that Rusty barely could make out, "Honey, it's best you don't."
Honey? Rusty desperately wanted to peek out into the hallway now.
"I know, I know," Flynn repeated Sharon's earlier phrase, sounding resigned.
Another beat of silence.
"You blame me, don't you?" Flynn sounded apprehensive.
"No," Sharon sounded unsure.
"I lost my temper, I know. I shouldn't have – but listen, Sharon, the dirtbag put his hands around your throat," Flynn sounded angry again, words coming out in a livid staccato, "he put his filthy hands around -"
"Shh"
Flynn stopped talking.
"We'll deal with the consequences Monday morning, Andy."
"Right, you mean I'll be chained to a desk for the rest of my career, huh – that's what's gonna happen come Monday." Flynn's voice was aggravated again, "You know it, I know it – heck every goddamn idiot below the seventh floor knows it."
"You won't."
"Taylor's not going to let this slide, Sharon," their voices became softer, as if they were moving away, "Heck; FID's going to have a field day, tripping over themselves in their glee to have me out of their hair."
"Would you please stop talking like this? And keep your voice down."
Flynn sighed loudly.
Rusty dared peek through his door, noticing the back of Sharon walking into the living room, Flynn following closely behind. Rusty knew this was rude, listening in on their private conversation, but there was something about their interaction that he found intriguing; that and he wanted to make sure Sharon was alright and that the lieutenant did not bother her too much.
"I deliberately broke the dirtbag's face, Sharon – shit, I'm not even sure what would have happened if Julio and the rest had not been able to pull me away."
"Sit," Sharon's voice was brusque now.
There was another moment of silence and Rusty imagined Flynn was sitting down on the sofa albeit grudgingly, maybe crossing his arms. He imagined Sharon would sit next to him but in the opposite corner, fixing him with a patient but tired look.
"I'm sorry," Flynn whispered.
"I know, Andy – and I know why you did it." Sharon replied in an equally soft voice.
"I don't really regret it," Flynn's voice turned contemplative, "even though I know I should. Yes, Sharon," his voice turned to a growl, "I know that's not what I'm supposed to feel."
Rusty imagined Sharon was crossing her arms now.
"I don't blame you, I understand you, okay – it's more of a wish; I wish you had not put that much force into it, okay? I wish you hadn't continued after he was subdued. That's all."
There was a short period of silence.
"It's kinda hard to maintain serenity when you're choking and gasping for breath."
Sharon hummed.
"Does it hurt still?"
Another brief silence, "I'm not sure I'll be able to sleep."
"I'm staying."
"Andy."
"Sharon."
Silence.
Then a small chuckle from both of them.
"You know I love you, don't you?" Flynn said when they had quieted down again, his tone sounding unsure.
Rusty smiled, not able to hide his surprise at those words, not able to really comprehend what in the world they were talking about.
"I know," Sharon said, a smile in her voice now.
Rusty imagined she would sit closer to him now, maybe lay her head on his shoulder.
"But you're angry with me?" It sounded more like a statement than a question, Flynn's voice accepting.
Sharon hummed, "I'm too tired to discuss it more – but no, I'm not angry at you."
"Okay."
"Okay."
Then nothing but silence. Rusty closed his bedroom door quietly; he would give them privacy now.
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