Thank you so much for your kind messages. We'll in the next chapters: sexyness, jalousie, halloween with the grand-kids and some kind of horror halloweeny thing. I think I got it all. Other requests: shoot before it's too late ;)
Day 23: "No, you won't understand, ever."
Andy saw her change, saw her withdraw a little bit more with each passing day. She was only a shadow of herself: drawn features, easily irritated and, worse than anything, her brilliant mind was getting tarnished. She didn't sleep anymore, she barely ate. She who usually limited herself to one cup of coffee a day was now drinking it like water. To say that Andy was worried was a euphemism.
Of course he tried to talk to her. He encouraged her to contact her priest and then, seeing she show little to no improvements, he asked her to see a psy. That was 5 minutes ago, when shit hit the fan. She got mad as hell, yelling at him. For the very first time since they were a couple, for the first time ever, they were arguing about something other than work.
"No, you won't understand, ever." She screamed, her skin astonishingly pale, tears running freely on her cheeks.
They could keep on going for a long time if one of them did not make the first step. Andy suddenly remembered one of those anger management sessions she forced him to attend years ago. Instead of continuing to raise his voice, he lowered it. Instead of walking toward her gesticulating, he forced himself to sit and opened his arms in a clear invitation. "Explain it to me then."
It was like seeing a balloon deflate. She seemed a bit thrown off by the change he imposed. She stayed up but stopped pacing. She finally made eye contact with Andy. "I killed a man." She whispered, tears flowing freely once more.
"I know, Babe but you didn't have a choice." He said, again.
"I know that." She started pacing again. "I'm not an idiot, I know that."
"The Captain knows that. Sharon doesn't feel the same way though, right?"
She stopped moving, her head snapping toward him, her mouth agape. "I… I killed a man." She repeated, her beautiful face reflecting all her pain and sorrow.
"You took a life and you don't know how to live with that." He stated, his voice soft and free of judgment. He got up slowly, not wanting to spook her.
She closed the space between them in two strides and threw herself in his arms, murmuring over and over "I killed a man, I killed him." Finally she let go of all her bottled up emotions. She grabbed fistfull of his shirt as she bursted into tears. Her whole body shook uncontrollably. Andy had to tighten his hold on her, her legs growing weaker as the sobs assaulted her.
He moved back slowly until the back of his knees reached the sofa and he lowered the two of them onto it. She seemed so small, so fragile there curled up in a little ball on his lap. Her fists were still clenching his shirt, her nail irritating the skin underneath. He would not say a thing. She needed that outlet. She needed to be held and comforted. She needed to understand how dire the situation was. He was pretty sure she was showing the first signs of PTSD. In fact, he googled it and she was the textbook definition: the recurring nightmares, the fear of falling asleep and having those nightmares, her being startled by the smaller of sounds like when he mishandled his cup of tea and it fell on the table, her being hyper vigilant at all times even putting her gun in her nightstand, her being reckless and aggressive in the bedroom department. Her being anything but the woman he knew. She needed help, more help than he could offer but they had to start somewhere… "I'm here, Babe." He soothed into her ears, combing his fingers through her hair, anchoring her to him.