A/N: I had this story in my head for a long while, so I used the break that I'm taking from my other WIPs to write this.

I'd like to thank authorjazmyne for taking the time to proof read this. She's done an amazing job.

Rusty's body flung against hers as soon as she walked through the door of her apartment. The weight of the boy's body nearly made her drop to the floor. Her knees were already weak from the events of the day and the added weight upon her body was almost the last straw.

"I was so worried, Sharon." Rusty's voice was strained, almost painful. "They said what happened on the news. I was afraid you were the one who died." He pulled away from her slowly and his eyes examined her. A dark bruise had formed on her chin and her cheek was scratched.

"I'm sorry. I should have called and let you know I was okay," she sighed. Rusty's arms fell to his sides and he took a step backwards, only now noticing that she was not wearing her suit. Instead, she was wearing a pair of sweatpants and a half-zipped hoodie that covered…

"Is that blood?" he asked and pointed at the tank top she was wearing under the hoodie. She sighed and nodded slowly, closing her eyes. "Did you get shot?"

"I'm fine, Rusty. It's not my blood." Her reply was hesitant and very unconvincing. "I better go take a shower."

"Did someone take a look at those scratches on your face?"

"Rusty, not now, please." Her voice was defeated, broken, tired. It broke his heart.

"Do you want me to make some dinner?" His words were met by the sound of the bathroom door closing. He sighed and looked at the TV screen, trying to catch every detail he could about the shooting in which 'an elite police unit' was involved and a female officer was shot to death.

Sharon leaned against the bathroom door and sighed. Every muscle in her body ached from the fall and she was barely able to move from the pain. Her chest felt heavy, as if someone stuffed metal into her lungs. Her heart raced, pumping blood to her organs so fast that she could hear her own heartbeat. She pushed herself away from the door and walked towards the mirror. It took a lot of strength lifting her eyes and staring at her own reflection. She traced the scratches on her cheek with the tips of her fingers, hissing from the pain. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before opening them and looking at her reflection again. Her chin was changing colors. When she left work, the bruise was red, but now it was an angry shade of maroon.

She turned her gaze away from the mirror and sent her fingers to unzip her hoodie. Her eyes darted down to her bloodstained white tank top. She felt a shiver passing through her body at the sight. She hurried to remove it and throw to the far corner of the room, knowing that she'd find the strength to deal with it later. She looked down again, sending her fingers to the waistband of her pants when she noticed that the skin of her stomach and her white lace bra were also stained with blood. She buried her fingers in her hair and choked back a despondent cry. She quickly pulled her pants down and removed her panties and bra, throwing them in a pile on the floor. She turned the water on in the walk-in shower, letting a cloud of steam fill the room, feeling the humidity on her skin.

She stood under the stream of water, rubbing the makeup off her face, the black of her mascara sticking to the tips of her fingers. She usually removed her makeup before taking a shower, but today it slipped her mind. She hoped that she could remove it enough so she wouldn't walk around the house with raccoon eyes and scare the hell out of Rusty, who seemed to be quite rattled already. She violently tore the wrapping paper off a bar of soap and started scrubbing her body and face. She rarely used solid soap, but she felt the need to scour herself, remove the strain that the horrible and tragic day had left on her body. The pressure of the soap against her skin provided her with the desired feeling. She could see the water turning a vivid shade of red at her feet and let out a sigh of relief. Now that she was not covered in blood, she could actually enjoy her shower.

She walked further under the stream of water, letting the water absorb in her hair. After a moment, a strong coppery smell reached her nose, causing her to step out of the shower to figure out what it was. She smelled it before, but couldn't remember where. Water trickled down her back, dripping onto the floor. She closed her eyes and sniffed the air for a moment before realizing that it was the smell of blood that had not dried yet. She shook her head, making a mental note to get rid of the bloodied clothes. As she turned to go back to the shower, she slipped on the small puddle that gathered at her feet and she plummeted to the wet floor, barely having enough time to send her arms forward to protect her already bruised face.

"Shit!" she swore under her breath. The fall hurt and she hoped that she didn't break anything.

"Sharon? Are you okay in there?" She heard Rusty's voice from behind the door.

"I'm fine. I slipped, but I'm okay," she called out. A big patch of wet hair covered her face and her fingers struggled to move it away. The coppery smell was even stronger now and it made her sick. Pushing herself off the floor, she noticed a red pool beneath her body and looked down at herself. Blood, again. She traced a trickle of rich red coming down from her hair and a desperate scream escaped her throat. She heard a knock on the door again.

"Sharon?" Rusty's voice followed.

"I'm fine, Rusty. I thought I saw a roach," she called out.

"Are you sure everything's alright?"

"Yes, don't worry. I'm okay."

She grabbed a towel and threw it over the bloodstain on the floor and then limped back into the shower. Her ankle was slightly twisted from the fall, but she was quite convinced that it was not serious. She tried to fight back the smell of decay that stuck to her hair as her fingers worked to get all the blood out of it. As she closed her eyes and brought her face under the stream of water, the face of the young detective popped into her head. Sharon didn't even know the woman's name and she wasn't sure the young detective knew hers. As the bullet left the barrel of the killer's gun, the much younger woman pushed Sharon to the ground and took the bullet in the chest instead, a bullet that killed her almost instantly. Sharon blinked the image of the officer's face away. At this time, she was still overwhelmed with the officer's blood that clung to every pore and hair in her body, refusing to let go, a terrifying reminder that she could be the one lying in the morgue tonight.

She was relieved when the water finally became clear and she washed her hair one more time just to be sure. She wrapped her bathrobe around her body and went out of the shower, tossing the bloodstained clothes and towel into the laundry basket.

Rusty was sitting on the couch in the living room, trying to concentrate on the TV, but he turned his head towards her as she walked to her bedroom. He felt a little melancholic and hurt that she didn't want to tell him what happened. It wasn't the fact that he cared that much about the cases the Major Crimes unit caught, but he did care about her and he knew that she was involved in a shooting that cost the life of an officer. From the corner of his eye, he could see her coming into the living room and felt her drop her weight on the couch next to him and leaning her head against the backrest. He looked at her and his eyes inspected her face thoroughly; the bruise on her chin had taken a raging shade of purple and he could see some bruising forming around the scratches on her cheek. He counted three deep ones along her cheekbone and a couple of shallow ones in between them.

"How did this happen?" he asked.

"I was pushed down on the ground. My face hit the asphalt," she replied, her voice engulfed with an exhausted tone.

"And the chin?"

"The handle of a gun," she said.

"Someone beat you with a gun?" Rusty arched his brow, his voice shaking. She shook her head slowly, knowing that she needed to calm Rusty's fraying concerns about her.

"We were at the scene, closing in on the suspect and he pulled out a gun," she paused, swallowing hard. "When he shot, another officer jumped in front of me, shoved me to the ground and took the bullet in her chest. She fell right next to me, and the gun fell from her hand as she hit the ground."

"Is she the one who died?" Rusty asked. Sharon nodded slowly. "What was her name?"

"I don't remember. I didn't know her," Sharon admitted. "But I will be thankful to her for the rest of my life." They heard a knock on the door and Sharon got off the couch and went to open it. Andy stood in the doorway and took in a sharp breath as he saw her face. "Good evening, Andy." Sharon moved from the doorway so her lieutenant could come into her apartment.

"I came to check on you," he said. "And I brought pizza." He handed Rusty the pizza box and the teenager went to the kitchen to put it down on the counter and set the table for dinner. Andy placed his palm under Sharon's chin and gently lifted it up, examining her wounds. "Did you get that checked to make sure that nothing is out of place?" he asked, the concern in his voice touching her heart deeper than he could even imagine.

"It's fine." She averted her gaze and he released her chin. "It could be worse."

"Yes, it could be." An involuntary sigh crept into Andy's voice.

Sharon was sitting on the couch, staring blankly at the television. Her brain didn't register anything that happened in the film she was watching, and even though she was tired, she couldn't fall asleep. Andy looked at her, a worried expression on his face. Earlier that evening, as they washed the dishes, Rusty had asked him to stay the night and make sure that Sharon was okay. Andy was sure that she would protest, but to his great surprise, she just shrugged and settled on the couch, resting against one of the throw pillows.

"Do you want me to make you some tea?" he asked.

"No, I'm fine," she replied, "but feel free to raid my fridge if you'd like to eat or drink anything." She grabbed the remote and changed the channel. Some cop show was on and she couldn't help but grin at what was happening on the screen. For some reason, it was interesting to watch, even though the cops on the show didn't really know the rules.

"This guy reminds me of my old partner," Andy said with a grin as one of the lead characters tried to hit on a woman in a bar with a bad pickup line. He could see a faint smile forming on Sharon's lips and it made his heart flutter a little. They kept watching the show silently, both slowly relaxing around each other. The episode they were watching was nearing its end, and in a dramatic twist of plot, the sound of gunshots made Sharon sink her face into a pillow and cover her ears. Andy immediately noticed the shudder going down her spine and heard a long and desperate wail escaping from between her lips. He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her from the pillow and into his chest. She sobbed bitterly into the softness of his shirt, her fingers clutching his collar desperately. "It's okay. It's been a rough day, just let it all out." He said with the softest tone he was able to muster.

"She died to save me… and I don't even know her name; I don't even know her rank." Sharon managed to say through her tears.

"Her name was Lucy Denver and she was a sergeant." Andy was touched by the fact that his Captain, who did not remember a victim's name on her first day as the head of Major Crimes now cried because she did not know the name of the person who died in her arms today. "Now you know," he added softly and felt her body slowly going limp in his arms as all her energy left her at once. He gently laid her back on the couch, noticing how she immediately curled her body around one of the throw pillows. "You should get some sleep," he said and got off the couch, getting ready to leave.

Sharon looked up at him, her fingers quickly moving to grab his. "Andy," her voice was broken and soft at the same time. "Stay with me, please." Her grip around his hand tightened. "Just keep me company tonight. I don't wanna be alone." He sat back down and patted her calf, a touch which she found comforting.

"Sure, I'll stay." They let the silence spread around them once again and Andy sneaked a gaze at her every once in a while, smiling as he heard her breaths becoming shallow and saw the tension in her body easing. "Good night, Sharon. Sleep tight." He smiled to himself as he leaned against the backrest of the couch and closed his eyes, allowing himself to drift into a dreamless slumber.

THE END