Hi guys! So this little one-shot is very, very depressing and sad, because I'm in one of those moods and, after watching all thirteen Rookie Blue episodes again, have become incredibly fed up with the incessant back-and-forth of Andy and Sam, and so this story is written in the mindset of 'I don't care how tragic the incident, just let them realize how much they love each other!'

A couple of warnings: The characters are slightly OOC, especially Sam. And there's a nasty swear word too.

Anyways, please review, I so very much love coming home from school/or work and seeing all your lovely comments in my inbox! Hope you all enjoy!xx

He gripped the steering wheel tight, his knuckles turning white, his grip tightening even further as he whipped the car around a sharp curve, throwing the passenger beside him into the side door. The chatter of their radios set his teeth on edge, the voice relaying the vital information too calm for such horrible words being uttered. The speedometer slowed down to seventy-eight as the car took a left. Then a right. Then another right. Then left again.

It was dark out, too dark for his liking. Darkness wasn't when the bulk of the crimes happened (surprisingly enough, it was broad daylight) but it was usually when the most heinous were committed. It was also too loud for his liking, the blaring sirens echoing in rhythm with the flashing red and blue lights on the roof of the car, and with the radio chatter thrown into the auditory mix, it was sending his anxiety through the roof.

He reached to turn off his radio, his thinking and judgment impaired by an all-consuming fear, when the woman in the seat next to him reached over and stayed his hand.

"We need it on, Swarek," she reminded him with a steady gaze from her icy blue eyes. For some reason, the unfazed demeanor of the blond woman made his nerves even worse, and he shrugged off her hand with a growl.

"Don't touch the driver, Peck," he said in a low voice. He saw her mouth open with no doubt a snarky retort, but the perfectly painted lips snapped shut as the radio came to life again.

"Officer down, repeat, officer down!"

He awoke with those words ringing in his ears. A hellish, animalistic sob tore through his throat before he could stop it, his psyche still delved too deep in his nightmare to censor his basic instincts. The woman in the bed next to him moaned softly, muttering something incomprehensible before rolling over. He cast a brief glance at the sleeping form before untangling his legs from the white sheets and exiting the bedroom.

He entered the den, one of the only places of solitude and peace left in his empty world. He clicked on the light, and a soft brightness filled the room. The first thing he saw as his eyes began to adjust to the new visual light spectrum was a ragged teddy bear.

"You've got to be kidding me," he said with an amused snort. "You sleep with a stuffed animal?"

"Piss off, Sam," she muttered as she crossed the room and picked up the bear.

"Piss off? My, my, the Brits seemed to have rubbed off on you during your time in London. How was the honeymoon?"

"Too long. Far too long. I even started missing you."

"I still can't believe Jerry let Traci bring you and Noelle. I would've thought Peck would have thrown a hissy fit at not being invited."

"It wasn't the honeymoon anymore, Sam. Jerry wasn't even the country when we joined Traci. It was a perfectly normal girl's vacation."

"Buy anything nice?"

"As a matter of fact - " she looked him up and down with a wickedly heated look, "I happen to be wearing some very sexy British lingerie right now."

"God, I love my job," he groaned with a sarcastic smirk, "you are simply too much. Though I'm having a hard time reconciling the sexy kitten in you with the inner child that sleeps with Mr. Teddy."

Her look was incredulous. "How did you know his name?"

"You're kidding right? Mr. Teddy's his name? What were you, five when you named him?"

"Four," she said defiantly, sticking her tongue out slightly. "My mother gave him to me. She said he would keep away the bad dream monsters."

He picked up the teddy bear, studying the already memorized features. Soft brown wool with worn patches on the right arm from being dragged on the floor, no doubt. Black eyes that seemed to hold so much wisdom and comfort. A dark blue ribbon, faded with the years, tied loosely around the stubby neck. Mr. Teddy.

He brought the stuffed animal to his nose and inhaled deeply, the faint scent of vanilla and jasmine filling his nostrils. He closed his eyes to stop the pricking of unshed tears.

Toting the bear with him, he wandered out of the room and out of the house itself, standing on the deck, staring off into the darkness that engulfed the night sky. He hugged the animal tight to his chest, lowering his head to smell her scent again.

"You miss her, don't you?" a small voice asked from behind him.

"Yes." It wasn't an admission, but rather an acknowledgment, an affirmation of what he knew she herself knew.

"You want her back."

"Yes."

"I'm never going to be enough for you, am I?"

"Go back to bed, Monica."

The sound of footsteps retreating made him sigh in relief. He hated people asking him questions. He hated people in general. If it hadn't been for people, then that night would never have happened. Fighting, he hated that too. Because fighting was what drove her to said people.

God, he missed her. He missed her so fucking much it hurt.

And he loved her. He still loved her. He would always love her, with an all encompassing love that had long ago overcome him. Because for him, she was it. She had been the One. She still was.

He held Mr. Teddy tighter to his chest, as if to meld the stuffed bear into his very soul.

"You gonna keep away the bad dream monsters from me, Mr. Teddy?" he whispered half hopefully, half sardonically.

Because he knew that no matter what he tried, be it sleeping medication, depression pills, or magical children sleeping aids, the nightmare of Andy McNally's death would haunt him every single night.