The idea came from holy_ships_x_red_lips prompt "Getting used to someone taking care of you".
I think it fits just right with the "Fuck you Sharon Raydor is alive day"
Takes place during her last episode on the show, 6x9
It's a 3 chapters long fic, first 2 are written, will try to work on the 3rd today.
Hope you'll like it :)
Andy could tell Sharon wasn't herself and hadn't been for quite some time now. Ever since the shooting, she never went back to "normal". For someone so adamant that people around her seek mental health support, he was quite annoyed to see she did not take upon her own recommendations. He was no shrink but had been in the force long enough to recognise a PTSD when he saw one. And his wife… she was the textbook definition of it. The recurrent nightmares, the severe anxiety that placates her for every basic task, the mood swings and, at moments, the complete detachment in her emotions, she had it all. And he felt a pang of guilt thinking he did not help one bit with his subsequent health scare. And now her heart problems…
He didn't know if she was in denial, depressed, somewhat suicidal or just pragmatic. He also knew the token her mother's disease had on her. After her father passed quite unexpectedly the Christmas she was supposed to meet her folks at Park City, her mother was diagnosed the year after with cardiac insufficiency. He never met her himself but remembered the worried phone calls the former Head of FID would make when she thought no one noticed. In a weird coincidence, she died a few days apart from the Chief's mother. He still felt like shit thinking they did nothing at all to support her in those difficult times, on the contrary. Since being together, he understood what her mother's sickness had meant for Sharon. She had seen that woman she loved and admired waste in such a dramatic way. Gone was the woman who raised three girls while working full time, disappeared was the lawyer that directed several charities since her retirement, evaporated was the dynamic wife who skied, swam and loved to cook, she had been replaced by that empty shell. At least, that's how Sharon described her: a woman who even had trouble going alone to the bathroom, who couldn't do anything and became mean and resentful.
Sharon did not want to be her burden for anyone like her mother had been for her. She still berated herself for seeing the last moments of her mother on earth as an incommensurable weight rather than a blessing. She hated herself for still thinking so and Andy knew it was playing a big part in her not accepting her disease. She did not want to depend on anyone. He wondered, too, if seeing her mother die slowly, suffer even, had a part in that. Sharon never talked about it but he had googled her mother's disease and could picture her last months pretty well. As her heart failed to pump adequately, her lungs would fill with liquid and prevent her from breathing more and more. He knew she died on the sofa, Sharon purchased the uncomfortable one in a haste for that reason. He could only imagine she was there because she could not lie down, the pressure in her lungs too much. It had to be bad, in the end. It would only make sense for her to be traumatized.
And now she was experiencing it first hand. Their diseases were so close too. Sharon's mother had suffered several heart attacks among the years, leading to her cardiac muscle dying and not assuming its role. Sharon had a cardiomyopathy. Her cardiac muscle was swollen and not working properly anymore: it didn't pump well and it fucked with her rythm. It wasn't the same etiology but damn id the results weren't the same! His wife, known for her beautiful long lean legs, was placated with swollen calves, her ankles bigger than his. She had to stop wearing heels, her feet fitting in only a very small amount of shoes anymore. She got dizzy at the slightest effort and he stopped counting the number of times he found her lying down on the floor, her skin paler than a ghost, a cold and smelly layer of sweat covering her. Doing the dishes nowadays was harder for her than running 5 miles a month ago. He knew she had trouble sleeping at nights because of all the palpitations she had but was so exhausted by her disease she could pass out on a chair or the sofa if left without simulations for a few minutes. The hardest part was realizing how it affected her mood. The doc said it was one of the side effects of the heavy cortisone dose she had to take but seeing his usually calm, smiling and collected wife cry nearly all the time, go from anxiety to fury in a few seconds was upsetting, even for him, He couldn't fathom the emotional rollercoaster she was experiencing.
So Andy tried to give her space, hoping it would help but understood pretty quickly that it only helped her shut him out. He didn't know how to connect with her anymore. He felt like living with a stranger somedays. Sure, she was there, she asked about his day, she participated in the everyday life of their home. But she wasn't there. She still shared her worries with him but not her deepest fears or her inner thoughts. She lost interest in the things she loved, slowly, insidiously. She was beyond exhausted too. He could see how difficult it was for her to navigate her everyday with the shortness of breath, the constant dizziness and fear of losing consciousness, the physical fatigue. She needed to stay home and rest. But her anxiety was so bad she could barely sit still five minutes in a row. She wasn't herself. They weren't the couple they used to be. He yearned to have that connection back.
So, that morning when she woke him up with soft kisses and wandering hands, he welcomed it. God, he missed her so much, not the sex but their whole relationship. She had welcomed his tenderness, she had given him her eyes. She had been so very open. Now, seated at his desk, waiting for her to arrive, he felt… he did not know how to phrase it but something was not right. He thought again about their intimate moment with a sad smile. He should feel grateful and happy. Usually, morning sex would put him in a good mood for days but today… He closed his eyes a second, her face appeared behind his eyelids, the tears in her eyes the moment before her orgasm hit her, the way she had said "I love you" like it was a farewell. He opened his eyes and jerked upright in his seat. That's what it was about. She was saying her goodbye.
His uneasiness kept on growing in the next minutes. He first received a text message from Sharon saying she went to church and was on her way back to the office. Then her priest, her fucking priest, texted him, asking him to watch over her, that she seemed not herself when he saw her. If Andy had to guess, he'd say she had asked the poor man the extreme unction. Then the kids followed, all saying their mother was weird and wondering if everything was all right. The last straw was a message from the bank. Sharon had moved money from her private account into theirs. He opened the app, wondering what she did and nearly fell from his chair. It must be her lifelong savings. She had moved over 100 000 dollars. If he needed a confirmation of what their morning lovemaking had been about, he had it. But now, how to address it? How to ask her to fight? How to make her understand they all needed her, him especially? He felt his chest constrict. How to tell her all that without spooking her?
As soon as he saw her standing there when she promised to rest…. He wanted to yell at her, he wanted to shake her but he waited for her to be done talking with the team. Then, only then, he got up and led her to her office and wrapped her in his arms. When she pulled back, she looked at him with a loving but sad gaze. He made her swear, once more, that she would go back home as soon as she felt unwell. Deep down, he knew she would not do such a thing. He knew she would try and fight to be there as hard as she could. She reminded him of a bit of a fish out of the water, fretting with so much effort but for the wrong things.
All day, he felt a gnawing pain in the middle of his chest. If she would only go back home… He was exhausted from worrying so much about her and felt beyond helpless. But the moment he saw her rub her sternum, the telltale sign he knew to recognise as her having either pain or palpitations, he threw caution to the wind. He jumped out of his chair and ran from electronics to her office. She was up, yelling at the woman in front of her, Provenza looked at her with a shocked expression. It registered in his mind and it did not. The only thing he cared about was her and getting her to calm down. Later, he would wonder what led him to take that course of action. At that moment, he moved only on instinct. He put a hand on her desk, grabbed her by the neck and locked their lips together. An outraged "Andy" left her mouth as he deepened the kiss. Not minding the least that a strange woman was yelling at him all kinds of profanities, that Provenza was a few centimeters away or that everyone could see them on camera, even their son, he rounded her desk while going on with his exploration of her mouth. He put everything he had in that kiss and was beyond grateful that she returned it. He smiled against her lips, remembering that she said cortisone "fucked with her libido", letting him understand she was quite horny despite her bad health state. He stirred her around until the back of her knees hit the wooden surface and then he hoisted her on it, not minding that her buzzing phone fell down on the floor and that he stepped on it. He placed one hand between her breast and could feel how erratic her heart was beating. The training the doc gave him came back. He remembered the man said to make her heart slow down, he could either press on her eyes or… he pulled his hands around her neck, his thumbs on either side of it, under each ear and started massaging her carotids.
He heard Tao's "Holy Crap" before he felt hands helping him support Sharon. She had become quite slack against him and was hardly moving her lips anymore. With the help of Mike and Julio, they laid her down on the floor. He could feel how clammy her skin was getting but her heart rate was less erratic. He kneeled next to her and hoisted her legs on his shoulders, like he did countless times at home when she fainted. Her eyes fluttered, she pursed her lips a few times, trying to talk but not managing to. "It's ok, babe, we got you. Rest. We're going to get you to the hospital." He said, holding her hand. In the distance, he could hear Rusty speaking on the phone with her doc and Mike saying that the paramedics were called. He was beyond grateful for their presence and having to only take care of her. She was all that mattered. As the paramedics rolled into the office, Sharon was coming more and more to herself. He felt a hand help him then squeeze his shoulder. "Andy, I think you saved her." Said his longtime colleague and science genius, amazement in his voice. The white hair man only wished he did not have to get to such length. And that now it would be a smooth sail for the rest of their life.