A/N: Saw this scenario mentioned in a post on tumblr, and from there my muses began to work overtime ;)

For the purpose of this story Sam and Andy are back together and the timeline is season five-ish :)

Warning: it does deal with a character death - so if you're not into that sort of thing, I'd turn around now ... and NO it isn't Sam or Andy - they're completely safe in this one.

Enjoy!

[chapter one]

Dazed.

Stripped bare.

That's only a couple of words to describe how Andy McNally feels right now – embarking on a day that'll bring insurmountable grief to the surface.

Again.

Andy thinks that she's actually dealing pretty well – all things considered. She even managed to get a cup of coffee and a few pieces of toast down this morning.

That's progress.

She had promised Sam that she'd eat something, and when he'd turned narrowed eyes on her, Andy had just shrugged her shoulders small telling him that the word she'd used had been something – not the scrumptious breakfast table he'd scurried up on a whim.

But Sam had accepted it, because he loves her, and because he knows what an hellish affair today will be, and him grilling her about her eating habits is the last thing that Andy needs right now – today of all days.

She is absently combing her fingers through her ponytail, staring straight ahead at the framed photograph standing on her dresser in a silver frame.

"I love you, Kiddo."

It's an endearment that Andy has heard throughout her life – four simple words that have left her dad's lips and entered her heart.

Four simple words, but also four poignant words that have meant so much to Andy growing up, because everything else had been fickle except for her dad's love for her.

That had been the constant.

But standing in the middle of the bedroom, Andy suddenly realizes that it's an endearment that she'll never hear again.

Thomas McNally is dead.

Dead.

Andy still can't believe that today is his funeral.

She's not ready for this. She's not ready to say goodbye to the one man, who has taken care of her without any question.

Without any reservation.

Well, except for one.

Sam.

Andy can feel his presence close by – even when she's buried in the depths of her depression over the loss of her father.

Sam has been hovering in the shadows ever since it happened. Standing by in case she'd need anything, he swears that he's sleeping at night, but Andy knows that he's lying, because she's right next to him in bed; awake.

They're quite the pair.

Andy honestly doesn't know where she'd be if it hadn't been for him; if it hadn't been for Sam. They have been through hell and back together – and apart.

It seems that as soon as everything with Marlo had quieted down, the next obstacle had knocked on their proverbial door.

Tommy had been killed in a hit and run.

She and Diaz had been called out to a 480; a hit and run.

It had been raining non-stop for days, and it was nearing midnight when the call came in.

The roads were flooded, which had also been one of Frank's points during parade that evening – to watch each other's backs but also the citizens of Toronto's.

Andy had passed Sam in the hallway when Chris and she had been on their way out to the squad car. He had been in court all day on a case that had kept him up countless nights; despite the fact that he wouldn't own up to it.

Typically him.

They had briefly agreed to spend the night at Sam's, which they had been doing for the past couple of months anyway.

Sam and Andy had yet to have the 'we-spend-all-our-time-here-why-don't-you-just-mov e-in?' conversation.

They were still a little gun shy from what had happened following Andy's return from the taskforce, but at the same time they were both adamant in making it last this time around.

"Fire it up, McNally!" Diaz roared next to her, pushing down on the accelerator as Andy flipped on the sirens.

He had been fired up ever since Denise and Christian had relocated to Timmins – without him. Chris was struggling – any idiot could see that. But in true Diaz fashion he hid that very struggle behind a stoic façade that constantly needed action on the job to put everything off the job behind him.

Or so he thought.

Andy could see right through his disguise – especially since it was the same bull Sam had pulled after Jerry's death.

At least Sam had worked through it in just the nick of time, and she hoped that the same could be said for Chris down the line.

He was a great guy, and one that Andy didn't want to see wither away because he was too proud to ask for help when he needed it.

Once they'd reached the scene of the crime, everything had seemed to happen in a blur. Everything had seemed normal when Andy had gotten out of the squad car; the ambulances were there, Gail and Dov were writing down witness testimony, while Chloe was helping Oliver and Nick to contain the scene.

But what really baffled Andy was why she and Diaz had been called to the scene.

There were more than enough people on the job, and for some reason none of them deigned to look at her, which made a cold shiver run down her spine.

But still it wasn't until Oliver began to walk towards Andy with his arms wide open and a sheer look of devastation on his face that she knew that something terrible had happened.

And then suddenly a terrible thought had manifested itself in her mind, could it be? Had he made it home from the Division in one piece? He had been so tired lately. What if it was..?

"Is it him?" Andy spoke on the verge of tears unable to get Sam's name across her lips when Oliver stopped right in front of her.

"Andy..," he began to say but stopped when a single tear had begun to run down her cheek.

Oliver never called her anything but 'McNally' on the job unless the matter was of a personal nature. That was one of the many reasons that she respected him; he had a clear line between the job and his private life.

Now that Andy was a part of Sam's life again that also meant that she was a part of Oliver's, which she was grateful for.

He had throughout her time at 15 Division been a father figure for her, and after returning from the taskforce and finding Sam dating Marlo, Oliver had encouraged her to never give up hope.

Because she and Sam were meant to be.

"Just tell me, Oliver!" she snapped at him unwittingly. "Please," she begged him. "Is it Sam?" Andy asked around the lump in her throat.

"No."

Andy closed her eyes in relief – just the few minutes that dreadful thought had been in her mind had made her blood run cold.

But wait a minute - if it wasn't Sam, then who was it?

Oliver's head was bowed; unable to meet Andy's confused eyes when she once again asked who it was if it wasn't Sam.

By the time, he looked up at her again, there were tears shining in Shaw's eyes, and she felt him place his hands on her shoulders.

"Oliver, who is it?"

It wasn't until her eyes caught sight of her dad's shriveled up car that Andy began to realize what must have happened.

Oliver pulled her into his arms instantly, shooting an incredulous glare Chris' way – this had not been the way Shaw had wanted to tell Andy that Tommy was dead.

But what could Diaz really have done differently? The call had come through, and they had to answer it – it was their job.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered against Andy's drenched cheek – if the wetness was from the rain or her tears she didn't know.

But what she did know was that those three words from Oliver were the last thing that she heard before collapsing in his arms.

Everything went black.

And she was gone.

Sam's hands are pressed against her shoulders – rubbing gently, encouraging Andy to return to the present with him.

"It's time."

It's a statement of fact - a fact that she doesn't want to acknowledge.

Actually, Andy wants to push it so far back in her conscience that she'll forget this past week has even happened.

On a sigh, she manages to get the words, "I don't want it to be," out.

"I know, Andy," Sam says. "I know," he repeats pressing a kiss to the back of her head, while continuing to rub her shoulders.

"Where is she?!" Sam barked at Diaz when he came running into the hallway of the Division with a clear objective in mind: to find his girlfriend, who'd passed out after learning that her father was dead.

"I'm so sorry..," Chris profusely apologized again and again feeling like the lowest of the low for having driven Andy to the location of her father's demise.

"Where?!" Sam yelled not caring that the former rookie was disintegrating in front of his very eyes. He needed to see her.

"Swarek, she's up in your office with Shaw," Best told him after having heard the commotion in the hallway.

Without apologizing to Diaz or giving Frank much of a greeting, Sam sprinted down the hallway, past all the desks, and up the stairs before landing in his office.

What he saw sitting in a chair cradling a mug of what he believed to be tea between her hands didn't resemble the Andy McNally, who'd knocked him on his ass that first day in the alley.

Her head was tilted down, her feet beating a staccato rhythm into the carpet unaware of the happenings around her.

Sam gave Oliver, who was sitting next to Andy a nod, as his friend got up from his seat, squeezed one of her shoulders before walking towards him.

"How is she?" he asked.

Once he'd gotten the call that Tommy was dead and Andy had subsequently passed out in Oliver's arms, he'd driven like a maniac on very little sleep – in order to get to her.

"Hasn't uttered a word since she came to, I don't even think she knows that I've been with her for the past hour."

Sam nodded his head in a sign of understanding before bobbing his head in the direction of the mug she was holding in-between her hands.

"Luke-warm at best," Oliver said. "No pun intended." He added quietly. "Peck got her into the sweats and made the aforementioned tea for her."

"Alright, thanks," Sam thanked him before walking towards her, while Shaw left the room to give them some privacy.

Crouching down in front of her, he placed his hands on top of Andy's, "hey..," Sam softly whispered prying the mug that had the words 'DAD' spelled out on the side of the mug.

'Great thinking there, Peck,' he mused uncharitably knowing within himself that Gail had probably just grabbed the nearest thing in the kitchen when tending to Andy, but still if McNally had seen the writing on that mug, it sure wouldn't have made tonight any better.

Andy didn't acknowledge him, merely kept her eyes trained on the floor, and her feet didn't stop their pounding rhythm either until Sam placed his warm hands on her knees.

"I'm here, Andy," he began to say knowing that if she wouldn't look at him, then at least she could hear him. "I am so sorry about Tommy, but I'm here now, and I'm not going anywhere."

"Sam..?" she asked softly – the same tone of voice that she'd use when waking up in the morning, and searching the bed for him with her hands.

"Hey..," Sam smiled tenderly at her when her wet eyes meet his browns and she practically dived at him landing on his lap with her arms immediately curling around his neck. "Whoa!" he exclaimed at the impact, but secretly relished in the fact that she needed him so much.

"I thought it was you..," Andy sobbed into the side of his neck, while Sam rubbed her back in soothing motions.

"How do you mean?" he asked hating the fact that she was falling apart around him, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

"And when I found out it wasn't," she hiccupped – still with her head buried in Sam's neck. "I felt relieved..," Andy all but spat out the word thinking the very worst of herself.

Pulling slightly back, Sam used his thumb and index finger to tilt her head up. "Listen to me, Andy," he began. "You're human - of course you were relieved when you found out that I wasn't the one, who was hurt."

"But my dad..," she cried unable to shake the feeling that she had let Tommy down in the worst way imaginable.

"Shh..," Sam whispered cradling her head against his neck again, as Andy's body quivered despite the fact that she was pressed up against his warm body. "What can I do for you? Anything, Andy?" he asked needing to do something for her.

"Don't ever leave." She tightened her hold around his neck making Sam realize that everything that she'd ever been afraid of had happened.

Tommy had left her.

Not by choice, but still he wouldn't be there for her anymore when she'd need him. He'd been a pivotal part of Andy's life, and now he was just gone.

Her entire basis for being had been knocked into a million little pieces, and Sam would be damned if that meant that Claire could begin weaseling her way back into Andy's life.

Not without him being a buffer at the very least.

Andy needed him now more than she ever had before, and Sam would sure as hell rise to the occasion – damn Claire and her feelings.

"I won't..," he promised her burying his face in Andy's neck, as she was in his. Sam rocked her back and forth; sitting astride his lap.

He would gladly sit like that for all eternity- if she needed him to, but he figured that his legs would cramp up before that happened.

But for the time being, they stayed put.

For Andy.

Claire has been unusually present through this whole thing. Despite the fact that things had been intense between her and Tommy ever since she'd returned to Toronto.

She has helped Andy plan his funeral and has taken care of everything that needed taking care of – including stuff that Andy hadn't even thought of.

Not to say that Claire and Sam haven't disagreed when it comes to how Andy is dealing with everything. Her mother had wanted to take her home, and give her a little space from it all, but Sam had promptly vetoed that idea.

"You want to what?!" Sam snapped at Claire on day two post Tommy's death. They were standing in the kitchen making tea, while Andy was resting in her bedroom – or trying to.

They hadn't even been able to agree on which beverage to make – Sam wanted to make her tea, while her mother argued that coffee was better.

To show what Sam's place in Andy's life was, he had grabbed the kettle and proceeded to pour water into it, since Andy had asked for some tea, and if he couldn't control anything else that was happening in their lives right now – this would suffice.

Folding her arms in front of her chest, Claire told him that it would do Andy some good to get out from under all this devastation for a couple of days.

"Do you really think that a change of scenery will make her forget that her father is dead?" He asked turning the kettle on before turning to glare at her.

"Of course not!" Claire argued. "But I'm her mother..," she began to say but was cut off by Sam.

"Barely," he scoffed before opening a cabinet to look for some Earl Grey.

"…and I know what's best for her."

"Really?" Sam asked with an arched eyebrow turning away from his search to shoot an incredulous glare at her.

"Let's not play the blame game here, Cowboy," Claire sneered at him before opening a bag of croissants that she'd picked up at a local bakery.

"Look!" Sam exclaimed slamming down a teabag on the counter before addressing Andy's mother with what little self-control he had left. "I love Andy; always have and always will. I have messed up – I know that. But we've worked through all of that, and if this little show of yours," he said gesturing with his hands in Claire's direction, "is in order to push me out of the picture, then you've got another thing coming – because I'm not going anywhere."

"Where have I heard that before..?" Claire muttered under her breath.

"Will you two knock it off?!" Andy appeared in the doorway of her bedroom looking like a mess. She was wearing an old academy tee shirt of Sam's that reached her to right above the knees.

Both of their heads turned in her direction – Sam was the only one wearing an apologetic expression on his face.

"Hey..," he murmured, quickly walking to her and pulling Andy into his arms. "I thought you would try to get some sleep?" Sam asked running a hand up and down her cotton clad back, while the other was tucking her head underneath his chin.

"In this noise..?" Andy scoffed wrapping her arms around his waist, and squeezing him tight.

"Sorry," he hummed against her hair.

"Honey, here's some tea," Claire offered having used the time that Andy had been wrapped up in Sam's arms to finish making her the beverage of Sam's choice. "Just the way that you like it," she didn't miss the eye roll that Sam gave her over Andy's head.

"Thanks Claire," she smiled gratefully at her mother before reluctantly separating her body from Sam's, and accepting the mug of tea.

"You're welcome," she smiled at her daughter right before Andy's face scrunched up in a scowl indicating that there was something wrong with the tea. "What's wrong?" Claire asked alarmed.

"Nothing," Andy shrugged. "I just usually take it with milk that's all..," she said before raising the mug for another taste.

"No problem," her mother said grabbing the mug right out of Andy's grasp. The fact that Claire didn't know how her daughter took her tea made Sam very happy.

"It's okay," Andy tried to make peace but Claire was unyielding in wanting to make her daughter a mug of perfect tea.

"If a job is worth doing, it's worth doing right." She said opening the fridge; her back turned to Sam and Andy, who were still standing in the living room.

"How are you?" Sam asked cupping Andy's cheeks in his hands. "Really?" he prodded not wanting to get her signature reply.

'I'm fine'.

Shrugging her shoulders small, she gave him as close to an honest answer as she could with an, "I'm managing."

"How about food?" he asked concerned.

"I've brought some croissants from that bakery you like," Claire butted in, handing Andy a mug of tea with far too much milk in it, but she didn't have the heart to tell her so.

"I can't," she waved a hand in front of her indicating that she wouldn't be able to keep it down.

"When's the last time that you ate?" her mother asked, and for once Sam didn't want to push one of those croissants into her big mouth to shut her up.

"Yesterday."

Scoffing Sam told her that the nachos that Nash' kid had brought with him wasn't considered as one of the major food groups by any stretch of the imagination.

"Andy, really," Claire piped up, and just like that Sam was back to wanting to strangle her.

"I'm fine."

"Obviously," she moaned making Andy put the mug of tea down much to Sam's surprise, since it was her go-to-method when she's feeling under the weather or stressed out.

"Will you take me home?" Andy asked having turned around to look up at Sam with pleading eyes.

"You are home," Claire inserted making Andy close her eyes in defeat. "Besides," she said. "I was thinking that maybe you'd like to spend a few days at my place..?"

"Why?" Andy asked turning around in Sam's arms to look at her mother.

"I don't think that Claire trusts me to take care of you," Sam offered up tightening his hold around her shoulders.

"Is that it?"

"Of course not!" she insisted vehemently. "I just thought..," she began to say, but was cut off mid-sentence when Andy told her that she feels safe when she's with Sam.

"Besides..," she added turning around in his arms to look up at him. "I miss Boo."

"The feeling is mutual believe me," Sam scoffed. "Apparently no one has blocks of ice for feet like you; he's not quite satisfied with Oliver's." He quipped making her lips curve into a small smile before it disappeared again.

"Andy, I really…" Claire tried to object but kept her mouth shut when Sam shot her a warning glare from where he was standing holding Andy in his arms.

"It's settled then."

Sam and Andy have agreed to look through Tommy's stuff when she's feeling up to it.

Just getting through this past week has taken so much energy - far more than she has had, which is also why she knows that if it hadn't been for Sam, then she wouldn't even be able to see straight – let alone stand on her own two feet.

"You guys ready?" Traci's soft voice is asking from the doorway of the bedroom. Boo is hovering beside her; the pooch instinctively knowing that something is wrong.

Sam and Andy got him a little while back, having decided that a new start would entail a dog, and there had been no argument as to what they should name him.

"Boo Radley. I've always loved that name for a dog."

"As ready as I'll ever be," Andy ends up telling her best friend on a wobbly smile.

Traci nods her head at her before clapping her hand on her thigh making Boo follow her downstairs to where Leo is waiting in the kitchen.

"I hate seeing you like this." Sensing the desperation in Sam's words, Andy turns around in his arms prompting him to keep on talking.

"I don't know what to do or say to make any of this better."

Tilting her head up, Andy looks into a pair of saddened browns, realizing that her grief is crippling him - because Sam can't fix her grief over losing Tommy.

Only time will.

Hopefully.

Reaching up, she places her hands on Sam's broad shoulders before telling him what Andy believes to be the God-honest truth. "Just you being here helps, Sam. Please believe that."

"Alright..," he covers Andy's hands with his own on his shoulders. "Remember our deal, eh?" Sam reminds her with a raised eyebrow.

"I remember," she sighs heavily.

"I mean it, Andy," he tells her pointedly. "You have to eat something, that was the deal." Sam tries to jog her memory.

"Funeral first, food later," she tells him.

"Food after," Sam corrects her clearly before tucking Andy under his arm, as they make their way downstairs.

A/N2: I'd love it if you'd drop me and line or two in the box below :)

Next up: Tommy's funeral proves to be more than Andy can handle.