Sharon's meeting with Chief Mason lasted about fifteen minutes, and Andy was still in the hall, waiting for her when she came out of Mason's office. She had expected it and wished she had tried to prolong the meeting to avoid him.

She knew that sooner or later, she'd have to explain what was happening, but she wasn't ready yet and didn't know when she would be. What she knew was that things wouldn't be the same for a long time after this, maybe never.

"I'll take you home," Andy said when she came out of Mason's office, and she shook her head.

"You're in the middle of the workday. I can get myself home, don't worry," Sharon replied.

But he did worry. She could see it all over his face.

"Then I'm taking the rest of the day off," Andy replied stubbornly.

"It doesn't work this way, Andy. You need to clear this one with Provenza; he's your commanding officer until further notice."

"Sure, I'll just text him and tell him to come here and see – this," he motioned towards her face. "And I'm sure he will be happy to hear you're okay since we've all been so worried about you the last few days."

"Andy, please don't make a fuss of this, not here," her voice was small, defeated. She moved her healthy hand forward and cupped his face, hoping her touch would soothe the storm inside him. The movement sent a jolt of pain down her wrist and arm, but she did it anyway.

Andy took her hand, eyeing it strangely before he removed it from his face.

"I am taking you home, and that is the end of it," he declared.

Wishing to avoid embarrassment, Sharon nodded and watched as he texted Provenza.

"We'll have to pass through the murder room; my keys are in my desk drawer," Andy said.

The thought of being paraded through her division's offices in her battered form gave Sharon chills. Andy might be willing to buy into her explanation about what had happened, but she would be quickly exposed in a room full of seasoned detectives, and she wasn't ready for this.

"Why don't you get your keys, and I'll wait here?" Sharon asked.

His eyes raked over her in disbelief. She could tell his trust in her had been broken or cracked. She couldn't blame him; she'd feel the same if she was in his place.

"Okay, but you stay right here," Andy relented.

She nodded, the movement so painful it made her wince.

Andy turned around and began walking down the hallway, glancing back at her momentarily and then quickening his pace.

Her thoughts raced as she waited for him, leaning against the wall across from Mason's office. When she agreed to attend a conference instead of Deputy Chief Winnie Davis, she hadn't imagined this was how things would go for her. She hadn't thought that her entire world would turn into chaos and that life as she knew it would end.

Andy was back within minutes. Sharon thought he must have zoomed through the hallways to ensure she hadn't moved from where he left her. She didn't deserve him, especially not now.

"Provenza said he's fine with me leaving now and taking two days off," Andy said.

"You don't need to take vacation days for me," Sharon argued.

"Don't worry about it," Andy responded and motioned for her toward the corridor that led to the elevators.

They rode the elevators in awkward silence, but she could tell Andy seemed calmer now, not as angry as before.

"So, what's the damage?" he asked after they got into his car, motioning towards her body.

"It's not as bad as it looks," Sharon replied, trying to play down her injuries. "It's mostly bruising and superficial cuts."

"And your arm?" Andy asked.

"It's broken, and the fingers are – well, they'll need a long recovery, possibly another surgery."

"You had surgery?" Andy asked.

"Just a little one, to put some rods or wires inside to fix the fractures," Sharon replied. "I'll know in a month and a half if I need another surgery."

Andy turned towards her. "Sharon, what kind of mugging ends with someone getting so badly beaten?"

"Some muggers can have a lot of rage in them," Sharon replied, trying to keep her voice calm.

"Did you resist them or something?" Andy asked.

"I think they noticed my gun," Sharon replied. "And they freaked out."

Andy looked at her until she diverted her gaze.

"I'm tired. Let's go home," Sharon said softly.

"You'll have to tell me at some point," Andy said as he ignited the car and drove out of the parking lot.

That was true; she'd have to tell him what happened. She'd have to deal with the extreme violence she experienced and the long-lasting effects it had and would continue to have on her body and soul and her relationships with those around her.

Once they got home, Andy insisted that she'd eat something. Her appetite was below zero, but she forced a few bites of leftover pasta into her mouth to appease her fiancé. Chewing hurt, and swallowing hurt even more.

Andy noticed her discomfort. "I'll make you soup for dinner. It will be easier for you to eat."

She nodded and uttered a soft, barely audible 'thank you'. Food in liquid form was all she could eat the last few days, and most of the time, she struggled to keep it down.

After eating, Sharon decided to go to bed. She hadn't slept much the last few days and was exhausted. Furthermore, sleeping would be her most effective way to avoid Andy and provide him with explanations.

Pulling her hoodie over her head, she went to bed without undressing. She could feel her jeans button digging into the skin of her stomach but made no effort to remove or open it. It was beyond her energy to deal with it, and she brought her knees to her chest and fell asleep.