AN: Well, I don't even know what to say about this one. It's a doozy (as noted on my tumblr last night). We can't have fluffiness forever, right? That's not real life. Anyway, this chapter will set the tone for the rest of the chapters to come. And, I'm not 100% convinced I'm pleased with it, but you know when things happen and you can't stop them? I let it happen. (Ironically, that's kind of the theme of this chapter. Hmm).

Anyway, thank you for all the reviews and hand holding. Shout out to Marys for always letting me bounce my initially terrible ideas off of her before I reign them in and make them better for all you beautiful readers. Let me know your thoughts on this one. I'm kind of interested to see what everyone has to say.

Sam stood dead still in the hallway, one of his hands swinging up and then back to his side over and over. He kept his head down—focusing on the space between his feet—until he was finally able to knock on the door. It opened slowly and only just enough for a head to pop through the crack. Before looking up finally, he heard a scoff and stepped back.

"Oh, he's alive," Andy called coldly behind her. Sam sighed and waited for her to join him in the hallway and close the door between them and her roommates. "What are you doing here?"

"Andy-"

"Actually," she cut him off, shaking her head rapidly as she folded her arms over her chest. "Don't even bother. You haven't answered a phone call or text message in a week. You weren't home for a week. And you didn't tell anyone. I guess it doesn't matter where you were. I guess I don't matter enough for you to tell me when you decide to disappear."

"McNally," he sighed, stepping toward her and she stepped back like he struck her and stood tightly against her door. "Andy, I- I don't know what I should say."

"I'm going to ask you some questions, then," she said and he nodded, slipping his hands into his jacket pockets while he waited. She relaxed a little, letting her arms fall to her side, and he started to feel himself calm. "Is your mother okay?"

"Yes," he answered quickly and she nodded thoughtfully.

"Your sister?"

"Yes."

"Your father?" She asked as her eyes searched his and he nodded slowly.

"As far as I know," he said honestly and she nodded quickly. "Everyone I know is okay."

"Except for me," she said, laughing humorlessly. "I've been freaking out for a week because my boyfriend left town while I was home on spring break and when I got back to school everyone was asking me where he was and whether or not he was okay."

"I'm sorry," he said quietly—honestly.

"Yeah," she said sarcastically and he begged with his eyes for her stop and understand him. "I bet you are. I bet you've had a really rough week doing whatever it was you were doing. My week's been splendid, thanks for asking."

"You know, you're kind of tough once someone lets you down," he said and she nodded, eyes wide while her arms tightened over her chest again. "I don't know why that surprises me."

"I think we had a really good run of not letting each other down," she said, nodding over and over and he bit the inside of his lip while he waited for her to continue. He knew she wasn't done saying what she needed to say. He knew she wouldn't be for quite a while. "But, you better believe that's changed. Now that I know that you're alive and that you look like you're okay and I know that your mom and your sister are okay, I'm not. I'm not okay," she shrugged.

"Have you ever just needed to get away?" He asked and she shook her head. "Come on, McNally."

"Never without telling anyone," she corrected herself and he rolled his neck.

"Andy, hi," Chloe said, seemingly popping out of nowhere. Andy's gaze hesitated on Sam for a few moments before she looked over at the shorter, bubbly girl. Sam kept his stare square on Andy. "Is Dov home?"

"You know, Chloe, we don't actually live together," Andy told her harshly and Chloe fell back a step. "And his door's right there. I'm sure if you knock, someone will answer."

"He's not here," Sam told her and both Andy and Chloe looked at him. He knew Andy was mad at him, but he'd never seen her be outwardly mean to someone like she was being to Chloe. "He was leaving as I was coming in. I think he went to the library."

"Thanks," Chloe said quietly, turning back toward her room.

Sam waited for them to be left alone in the hallway before turning back to Andy. "Can we go somewhere to talk?" He asked and she shook her head, reaching back for her doorknob.

"I've called you every day for a week, just waiting to talk to you," she said, kicking her toe into the floor. "Turns out I don't really want to hear what you have to say. At least, not now. You needed to get away and now I do. But at least you'll know where I'm going to be."

Before he could even say her name, she pushed her door open and stepped into her room. The door closed in his face just as quickly.

Andy rested both of her palms flat against her closed door and sighed—feeling her whole body shake in the process like she was holding something in, waiting to explode.

"What did he have to say?" Gail asked quietly—carefully—and Andy turned slowly to rest her back against the door.

"I didn't really give him a chance to say anything," she admitted. "I couldn't even look at his face. I've never had that problem before."

"Aren't you curious?" Traci asked and Andy looked up at the top bunk where she was sitting with her legs hanging over the side. "He just left without a word to anyone. He's been gone for a week."

"I spent that week scared out of my mind that something happened to him," she said, pushing herself away from the door to rest on her bed. She pulled a pillow against her chest and looked to the other side of the room where her friends were still watching her. "And now I'm just furious that he didn't have the decency to tell me…anything."

"It's not my place to say this, but I'm going to anyway," Gail said and Andy rolled away from her with a sigh. "But something is clearly going on with him. I'd be pissed at Chris if he did this, but I'd also really want to know what would make him do it."

"Same," Traci said and Andy covered her face with a pillow.

She didn't want to admit that they were both right. She didn't want to go to Sam and find out what dragged him away. She did not want to hug him and tell him just how glad she was that he was okay and alive and home.

"I'll be back later," Andy said, rolling off her bed. She picked her jacket up off of the back of her desk chair and left her room.

The walk to Sam's felt longer than it usually did. The only time it felt longer was when she got back from her father's house after a day of not hearing from him. When she reached his door that time, there was no answer and she had to turn back toward her dorm with even more questions than when she got there.

Sam's truck was on the street outside of his apartment, so she knew he'd be inside. She almost turned back for her dorm, but she really did know Gail and Traci were right. She wanted to know why he left. She wanted to know why he didn't tell her she was going. She wanted to make sure he really was all right.

She took the steps up to the main entrance slowly—she was still holding a grudge about the sprained ankle despite the fact it was nearly healed. She took the walk to his door even slower, but knocked as soon as she was in front of it. If she didn't, she was sure she'd talk herself out of it and turn back around.

Sam threw his door open before reaching down to hold Boo back by his collar. Andy squatted immediately, happy to see him, and Sam let him go while he turned back inside. She held Boo's face between her hands and let him lick her face and she hugged him. She stood up and waved Boo inside. Together, they walked in and she slowly looked away from the dog so she could locate Sam in the apartment. He was leaning against the back of the couch, watching her over his beer bottle.

Andy peeled her jacket off and laid it on his table while he followed her every move with his eyes. Then the two of them stared at each other silently while Sam took a few sips of his drink. Andy rolled her bottom lip between her teeth, trying to think of what to say, of what to ask him. His face was stonier than when they were in her hallway, but she still wasn't quite pleased looking at it.

"I didn't think I'd see you here for a while," Sam said quietly, his voice huskier than normal.

"You wanted to get away and you did," she said, deciding to cut to the chase, and he nodded. "Why? Why didn't you tell anyone? Why didn't you tell me?"

"You were gone," he said, sliding into one of the chairs around his table. Andy hesitated before sitting down across from him. She reached for her jacket and held it against her, laying her chin on top of it while he went on. "It was two days before I started going kind of crazy. I hated it. Which is stupid, I know, and it was even more stupid to leave. But I had this suffocating feeling when you were gone and I hated that feeling. I've never felt anything like it."

"You missed me, so you left me?" She asked, rolling her eyes all the way to the back of her head.

"I can deal with missing you," Sam insisted and she nodded, her chin rubbing against her zipper. "It's nothing I haven't felt before, you know? Missing you is doable. It sucks, but it's doable."

"Then I really don't understand what you're trying to say, Sam," she admitted as she felt the exhaustion of the whole ordeal rush over her.

"It's the suffocating that did it to me, what ran me out of my own house," he explained and she sat up again, narrowing her eyes. "I've known since the second I met you that you were going to leave an impression and that you were different. I knew that you would make me feel something that I never really believed in. I never expected to find you or someone like you or someone who made me feel anything. As much as I do love you, I still don't understand the depth of it all. And when you left this time, it hit me that I wasn't in control of anything anymore. I didn't-"

"Sam," she said quickly, cutting him off. She pushed her jacket away from her and reached across the table for his hand. "You could have called me. You could have told me what was going on. I don't really understand love and I always feel like our relationship is out of my control. Maybe that's part of it all, you know? Maybe we're not supposed to be in control."

She was rambling, bad. She was starting to get nervous that his explanation would lead to a breakup or that he would come to regret their past few months together. No matter how mad she was at him for leaving without an explanation, she didn't want that to happen.

"That's not really how I operate anymore," he admitted and she squeezed her eyes shut and tightened her grip on his hand. "I kind of need to be in control of, at least, my own feelings. I have been in complete control of my life since I got to college. It didn't always turn out the way I wanted it to, but I knew what was happening and why every step of the way. I never had that before my father got life in prison and I have made sure to have it every day since."

"Your-," Andy sighed, letting go of his hand to run both of her palms over her leggings. "Your dad's in jail?"

Sam's eyes popped open like he hadn't realized the words had come out of his mouth at all. She never cared where his father was, but she was starting care a great deal about what it was doing to Sam. Even if he was in prison for life, she didn't care if Sam was willing to move forward with his life—with her.

"Yes," he answered slowly, pushing his seat farther from the table. The sound of the chair against the wood floor got Boo running from the bedroom and Andy watched as he made his way to Sam and then around the table to Andy before going back and forth waiting for one of them to show him some attention.

"Sam, I don't care about that," she said finally. "It caught me by surprise, that's it. I just- I want to understand what is going through your head right now. No one is in control of their feelings. If we had control over that, we'd never feel anything new or exciting. We'd never fall in love, not really."

"You've always picked up on the fact that control is important to me," he reminded her and she nodded, feeling a tear well up in her right eye. She wiped it away before it could fall. "I'm controlling, you know that. And it may not be my most attractive trait, but it's the most important one. To me."

"We were doing so well before I went home," she whispered. "You came to my dorm and it seemed like you were sorry. Now I'm, kind of, getting the sense that you're-," she stopped, breathing in deeply before letting it out, along with a few stray tears she couldn't stop in time. "I get the feeling that this isn't going to end well."

"I went to Scarborough, I went to all the places I hung out when I was growing up," he said and she watched as his fists clenched against the surface of the table. "I took Boo and we stayed in a really cheap, beat down motel. I needed to get away. I needed to feel in control of my own life. And with school and working for Boyko and… Being with you, it was needed. I do love you and I know it's real," he said and she couldn't help but notice that was the most he'd ever said he loved her. She could say it to him all day, but he was very sparing with the phrase and now he'd said it twice.

"You left for just a few days and I felt how close everything is to falling away from me completely," he said. She noticed his voice was calm and he was talking slowly through deep breaths, like he wasn't sure how to continue with the conversation. It just made her nervous again—how calm he was being.

"I'm not going anywhere, Sam," she insisted and he looked at her and shook his head. "We made that deal, remember? We're not going anywhere without a fight. And if you're thinking about ending this, I'm going to fight you on it. I'm not- we're not over."

"I don't want this to be over," he said slowly, almost seething. "You're young, Andy, and you have the entire world at your hands. I've never had that. I'll never have it. If things end between us, you'll get over it and-"

"I won't," she promised and he swallowed.

"You will, but the deeper we go into this, the less control I have over my entire life. Because if you decide to leave in a year, I won't have anything."

"That's not true, Sam," she said, pushing her chair out to walk around the table. She sat on it, in front of him, and took both of his hands in mine. "You have just as much opportunity as me. You have just as much to look forward to. I know your life hasn't always been easy; neither has mine. And I know that love and the uncertainty of it all scares you. It scares me, too. If I leave in a year, you'll be coming with me."

"You're nineteen," he reminded her and she threw her head back-frustrated. "A lot can happen before you reach my age. You'll meet a lot of other people."

"I don't care about other people, Sam! You're the only one I care about. And, since when has my age been an issue? We moved past that before we even started dating."

"Well, you know, I've had a lot of time to think over the last week," he said and she fell carefully to the floor—landing on her knees between his. "Andy, get up."

"No, because if I get up, you're going to ask me to leave and that will be the end of this and I don't want that. You don't want that."

Sam licked his lips while he looked down at Andy. He left because he realized he'd lost a good amount of control over his life and, now, he was losing control over the situation. He went to her dorm because he did miss her and he just needed to see her. It was a rash decision, but then clarity hit and he remembered why he left in the first place.

A week alone, cut off from his world at school, was his way of gaining some of that control back. It was dumb, obviously, but he felt better after a couple of days. Even if he did miss Andy and his friends while he ambled around his hometown, he needed to hold on to who he was. He needed to feel like he knew what he was doing.

"You love me," Andy said slowly and he nodded, focusing on her hand that rested on his knee. "I don't even need to hear you say it. I know it. I feel it. You don't want to break up with me. You need your control and I have never wanted to take that away from you. It's part of the reason that I love you. And, okay, I'm nineteen and maybe I don't completely understand life and love. But I do know how I feel… about you and me and us. I know we're good together. I know you make me better. You make me a better person, you make me a better friend, hell, you spent a semester making me a better student. I don't want to lose you. I can't."

Sam let his forehead fall gently against hers and held her face between his palms. He didn't want to lose her, but he was terrified of losing himself. He was not prepared for either. He closed his eyes when her hands gripped at his waist and he felt so dramatic all of a sudden. Like, if they let go of each other they really would lose it all.

"Can we go back?" She asked quietly, running her hands up his sides. "To before I left? Before you were suffocating? I don't want to suffocate you, Sam, I just want to work through this and be with you."

He considered her words and the feeling in his gut when she was gone. Losing Andy now—or ever—he realized, was the last thing he wanted. But, Sam being Sam, felt it was an inevitable loss. He, like his father, was incapable of holding onto the good things in his life. He didn't get much from his old man, but he was certain that was one thing he inherited.

He was not Jay Swarek, though. He knew that. Sam Swarek was better than that. He was better than this. And he was in love with Andy—with her laugh and her smile, with her eyes and her touch, with her calming presence and her soft lips. If Sam lost her now, he had a chance of getting over it. If he lost her in a year, he wasn't so sure he would. But, he was willing to cross the bridge when they got to it—if they got to it.

Sam tugged gently on her face and her eyes opened. "Come here," he said and she slid onto his knee while one of her arms circled his shoulders. "I'm sorry," he said into her hair and she nodded. "I'm not ready for this to end. I don't want it. I can't lose you," he continued truthfully and he felt her smile against his cheek when she kissed him. "Don't go."

"Tomorrow's Sunday," she said and he nodded, tightening his grip around her waist. "Maybe you should take those days back, like before I came into the picture."

He knew she was trying to give him back control and make him feel less like he was suffocating, but, now more than ever, he just wanted to work through whatever was going through his head with her. "Then, I'll do it tomorrow," he said and she pulled her head back to look at him thoroughly. "Stay?"

"Okay."

Andy did stay and, slowly, things began to calm and feel normal between them. There was a tension there, but she wasn't willing to bring it up and burst their bubble. She did not want to drive him away. She did not want to give him a reason to be afraid of his feelings.

And when they made love, she initiated it, but let him take control. It was slow, yet passionate. It was all a new experience for Andy. It was emotional. With his face buried in her neck, she felt tears falling down her cheek and squeezed her arms tighter around his neck so she could wipe them away without him noticing.

She laid awake long after he fell asleep—curled around her body. His grip was tight on her, but loosened when his breathing steadied. Another rush of emotion took her over while she remained in his arms. She remembered him telling her he loved her—over and over while they were having sex. Then, it sounded more like it should—like a promise, not like it was something to be afraid of or to convince himself of. Before he rolled off of her, he whispered the words, "Don't go," against her lips. And she vowed to him that she wouldn't. And she wouldn't.

Andy knew early on, before things came close to getting serious, that he had demons. She recalled telling Traci that and she knew, even then, that she could live with his demons. Months later, when she was deeper in love with him than she ever thought possible, she still knew she could live with them. If he was willing to accept them and, maybe one day, work through them, she'd be willing to be there, to help him every step of the way.