AN: Happy Remembrance Day, fellow Canadians! Here is chapter 83!

Just a small warning, there is a bit of a difficult topic in this update. I have explained it a bit at the end of the chapter.

Chapter 83
Six Weeks Later

Andy drove into the 15 Division parking lot in her new Ford Escape. After a discussion, it was decided that even though they didn't really need the extra vehicle yet, they would need it in less than a year when Andy was on maternity leave from work, and it would be a lot harder to juggle the truck, so they went ahead and bought it. She parked in an open spot easily and slid out of the drivers seat, slinging her bag over her shoulder. She crossed the lot and entered the building, jacket pulled up tight around her.

"Hey!" Traci called from where she stood by the photocopier, "What are you doing here? I thought today was your day off?"

"I thought so too," Andy said, "Apparently Chloe came down with a violent case of food poisoning, so she's heading home early and Frank called me in."

"Oh, that's not good," Traci scrunched up her nose slightly, "Does Sam know you're here?"

"I sent him a text, but he didn't reply," Andy said, "Busy today?"

"Yeah," Traci said, picking up her copies, "I have to run. But I'll see you later. Since you're here anyways, did you want to go out to get dinner after work?"

"I'll let you know," Andy told her, wrapping her in a quick one-armed hug, "I'd better hurry. Oliver is waiting in booking."

"See you later," Traci said.

Andy hurried towards the locker room and got changed into her uniform, noting that her belly was just starting to expand and show her pregnancy under her slim fitting black undershirt. She shrugged into her uniform shirt and tucked it in and then slipped on her Kevlar. She could already feel that it was fitting a bit differently. It wouldn't be much longer until she was stuck behind a desk. She put on and laced up her boots and then made her way down to booking.

"There you are," Oliver said, straightening up from his slouched position, standing at the desk in booking, "Thanks for coming in."

"No problem," Andy said with a smile, "How are you today?"

"Tired," Oliver said, "And hoping that Chloe and I didn't eat the same egg wraps for breakfast. It was really bad, McNally. Reeally bad."

"Oh?" Andy screwed up her nose, "Gross."

Oliver chuckled and reached over to punch her lightly in the shoulder. "Come on," he said, "Let's get out there."

They went out to the squad car and Andy slid into the passenger seat, relaxing back as Oliver started the engine and pulled out of the lot. "So how has the day been so far?" Andy asked him.

"Not too bad," he said, "A few traffic calls. One break and enter."

Andy nodded. "Shall we go get a lemonade?" she asked him.

"Will you buy?" Oliver asked her.

"This time, I will," Andy said, "I'm feeling generous."

"Did you and Sam win the lottery or something?" Oliver asked.

"What?" Andy laughed furrowing her eyebrows.

"First it was the new vehicle for no reason, and now you're offering to buy me lemonade," Oliver said, "You must be rolling in dough."

Andy snorted in laughter. "I'm only offering a small," she told Oliver with a grin.

"Cheapskate," Oliver chuckled.

A few hours later, Andy and Oliver were driving around when their radio crackled to life. "1515, are you available to perform a welfare check at a residence?" asked dispatch.

"10-4 dispatch," Andy said into the radio, "What's the call?"

Dispatch rattled off the address and then said, "The caller was a healthcare worker going to visit a patient at the residence. She has concerns about the safety, and questions if there is some elder abuse going on."

"Is the caller still on scene?" Andy asked.

"10-4," dispatch said, "She's a physiotherapist named Christina Moore."

"10-4, mark us on route," Andy said.

Oliver sped up and turned in the direction of the address. He pulled up in front of a shoddy looking white house with chipped blue window frames and dirty windows. There was a lady dressed in scrub pants and a sweatshirt who was seated on the front doorstep. She pushed herself to her feet and walked towards the curb when Oliver pulled to a stop and he and Andy got out of the car.

"Hello," Andy said, walking forward, surveying the front of the house, "Are you Christina Moore?"

"Hi, yeah," she said, "I called you," she said.

"We were told it was regarding to a welfare check," Oliver said, "What's going on?"

"I'm a physiotherapist. I own my own clinic over on Dundas," she said, "Edna Clarke, one of my patients lives here. She's missed the last four appointments there, and then she missed another one today, so I came here. The front door is locked, but I can hear somebody calling from inside."

"Who lives here?" Andy asked, taking out her notepad as Oliver approached the door, knocked on it loudly and listened through it.

"Edna Clarke, my patient. And her son, Roger," Christina said.

"Have you got a phone number for the son?" Andy asked.

"A work number," Christina said. She shook her head. "I called him at work, his boss said he was there, but wasn't available to talk. He works in construction."

"You said it was an emergency?" Andy asked.

"Yeah," Christina said, nodding, "I even lied and said I was a police officer and he still didn't pass me along."

"Hmm," Andy said, nodding, "You do realize that impersonating a police officer is-"

"I know that's illegal," Christina said, "But it really is an emergency. Edna has Alzheimers and is recovering from a hip replacement. I know that she wouldn't think to do her exercises herself, which is why she comes to appointments at my clinic, three times a week. Her son usually drives her. But it's like I said. She hasn't come to see me in over 10 days, and nobody is answering my calls."

"Okay," Andy said, "We'll figure it out," she said, glancing over at Oliver who was feeling above the door frame, looking under the welcome mat and then stuck his hand into the broken flower pot to the side of the door and fished out a key.

He straightened up and flipped the key over in his hand before pushing it into the lock and turning it, unlocking the deadbolt with a click.

"If you'd wait here," Andy said to Christina before she followed Oliver, stepping into the house. "Mrs. Clarke? It's the police! We're coming in!" she called into the house.

They walked in the front door and looked around. Andy couldn't help but cringe. The floor was all medium brown carpet and it was thick with dust and pet hair and dander. It smelled like cat pee and dust and Andy coughed, her stomach rolling.

She had been lucky with not having much morning sickness during the early stages of her pregnancy, but she was hyperaware of smells, and this one was pretty bad.

"Edna Clarke?" Oliver called into the house as they walked through the living room and through the kitchen. The sink was full of dirty dishes and it smelled of garbage and rotten food. They passed by a bathroom on the first floor and Andy poked her head in to look at the filthy white tiled floor, the rusted bathtub and the full litter box against the dirty wall.

They made their way up the dusty carpeted stairs and Andy called again. "Edna Clarke?"

"Hello?" asked a female voice from upstairs.

"Edna?" Andy asked.

"Yes?" replied the woman's voice.

"She's over there," Oliver pointed to one door that was closed. Andy walked towards it and closed her hand around the doorknob which she tried to turn, but it didn't move.

"It's locked," Andy said, turning to look at Oliver.

"What?" Oliver asked.

"It's locked from the outside," Andy said, trying the knob again.

"Do you see the key around?" Oliver asked.

Andy glanced around, a sick feeling settling into the pit of her stomach. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her lock picking kit and removed the tools. She crouched in front of the door and easily picked the lock. She glanced at Oliver and he nodded before she pushed open the door.

Immediately the smell of feces and urine was overwhelming and Andy's eyes watered as she choked.

"Oh shit," Oliver murmured under his breath.

There was an old frail lady lying on a bed in the middle of a room, filthy like the rest of the house. She was dressed in a white t-shirt that was filthy and underwear that was so stained that Andy wasn't sure what colour they were meant to be. Her white hair was greasy, messy and tangled around her head. She had a filthy bandage on one hip, the hip that Andy assumed had had the surgery. Her lips were dry and cracked, and she had dark circles under her eyes.

"Call an ambulance," Andy told Oliver quickly. She hurried forward across the dirty, dank, dusty carpet and forced a smile at the woman. "Hi Edna," Andy said, "My name is Andy. Are you okay?"

"Hello dear," she said with a vague smile, "I'm a bit cold."

Andy walked over to the wardrobe and pulled it open, removing a blanket from the bottom and bringing it over to the woman who she helped sit up before wrapping the blanket around her.

Oliver came in a few minutes later with one of the bottles of water that they kept in the trunk of the squad car and handed it to Andy before taking a step back, allowing them space.

Andy crouched down in front of her and opened the water bottle. "Here Edna. Can you take a drink of water for me?"

"Sure dear," Edna said, "What was your name again?"

"Andy," she smiled at her and handed her the bottle, "Have a drink, Edna."

"Okay Andy," Edna nodded.

"Tell me we're going to pick up her son," Andy murmured to Oliver under her breath.

"Epstein and Cruz are on the way to his work now," Oliver replied, "And EMS is on their way here."

"Good," Andy said, turning her attention back to Edna who had screwed her face up in disgust. "Is everything okay Edna?" Andy asked.

"Do you smell that?" Edna asked.

"Yes," Andy nodded.

"That's dreadful. Is that you?" Edna asked.

"No, no it's not," Andy said, shaking her head.

"Is it him?" she asked quietly, pointing at Oliver.

"No," Andy said again.

"Is it me?" Edna asked.

"I'm afraid so," Andy nodded.

"Oh!" Edna's face flushed deep red, "I'm so sorry! I need to shower. And change." She pushed herself up to her feet and immediately sagged forward against Andy with a cry of pain.

"You're okay dear," Andy said warmly, pushing Edna back onto the bed, "Just sit for now. You can do all of that later."

Edna looked at Andy closely. "What did you say your name was?" she asked.

"Andy," Andy said again. She reached forward and held onto Edna's hand, "Just relax Edna. We're here to help you."

"Oh, that's nice," she said with a smile, "Pardon my asking, but what's that smell?"

Three hours later, after Edna had been carted off to the hospital by ambulance, Oliver, Andy and Sam were walking around the house, taking pictures and making notes about the state of it.

"There's really no question that this is elder abuse," Sam said as he looked at the locked bedroom door, "Neglect, and abuse."

"House is in the name of Edna Clarke, and her son Roger has been living here for the last 20 years with her. He was paying her rent for eight of those years and then she was diagnosed with Alzheimers and his payments stopped," Oliver said, reading off of his notepad.

"So financial abuse too," Sam said, "Tell me we've found this guy."

"Cruz and Epstein brought him in to the station about half an hour ago," Andy said.

"Good," Sam said, "Let's go back. I've seen enough here. Seal off the exterior doorways and cordon it off, in case we need to come back for more evidence."

"Yessir," Andy said.

Sam cast her a sideways glance and shook his head with a grin. "I'll see you back at the station," he said to the pair of them before he made his way down to the staircase and out the front door.

A short while later, Andy and Oliver stood in the viewing room, watching as Sam was talking to Roger Clarke, Edna's 50-something year old son. Andy's phone rang and she glanced at the screen before answering. "Officer Swarek," she said into it.

"Hello Officer Swarek," said a male voice, "My name is Doctor Ian Lewis, I'm calling from Toronto General Hospital. I was given your card by a couple of paramedics that brought in an older patient earlier today, Edna Clarke."

"Hello Doctor," Andy said, "How is she?"

"She's stable," said Dr. Lewis, "But very unwell. I don't know how long she was in that room for, but her muscle mass is extremely low, she is malnourished and is extremely dehydrated. Her incision from the surgery is infected, and she has the start of a blood infection. And judging from her appearance when she was admitted, she hadn't had the access to any bathroom facility."

"So you're saying that she was held in that room for an extended period of time," Andy said, "With no bathroom access, no food, no water and no medical products to look after herself."

"Yes," Dr. Lewis said, "I don't know if you have her caregiver in custody, but that would be a good place to start."

"He's in our interrogation room now," Andy said, "Should this case proceed as we both know it should, would we be able to utilize your professional assessment of Mrs. Clarke?"

"Of course, Officer Swarek," he replied.

"Can we reach you at this number?" Andy asked him.

"Yes, of course. Just ask for me," he said.

"Great, thank you," Andy said. She chewed on her lower lip. "In your medical opinion sir, will she be able to make a recovery?"

"We are optimistic," he said, "But I would not sign off on her discharge if she was intending to return to her home."

"Thank you for the update," Andy told him, "We'll be in touch."

"Have a good day, Officer," he said.

Andy hung up and looked over at Oliver. He was staring at her in disbelief. "He did all of that?" Oliver asked, pointing through the glass at the chubby middle-aged man who was staring at Sam insolently, his arms crossed over his chest, looking completely uncaring.

"Yep," Andy said, popping the 'P'. She could feel rage bubbling up inside of her

She stepped around Oliver and pushed open the door to the hallway and buzzed herself into the interrogation room. Sam looked up at her as she stepped inside and pushed the door shut behind herself.

"Officer," Sam nodded at her. He glanced at Roger. "Roger, this is the Officer who found your mother today."

"Oh," Roger said.

"Oh?" Andy asked him sharply, "That's all you have to say?"

He shrugged at her.

Andy chewed on the inside of her cheek. "I was just on the phone with the doctor treating your mother," Andy said, "They expect her to make a full recovery."

He was silent and still, staring up at her with the same insolent look on his face.

"Which is miraculous," Andy said, anger simmering away inside of her, "Because she's an 89 year old woman who was left in a room- no, no. She was LOCKED in a room, with no access to a bathroom, with no food, no water, and no medical supplies to deal with her recent surgical incision."

Roger didn't say anything, but his eyes shifted from Andy to Sam and then back.

"Why don't you say something?" Andy spat at him. She crossed the room towards him and slammed her hands down on the metal table. Roger flinched back from the loud noise. "Explain to me, Roger, why on earth you would think to lock up your mother after she graciously allowed you to stay in her house for a nominal rental fee. Help me to understand what reasoning you went through to decide that that would be an intelligent thing to do!"

"I didn't want her to mess up the house," Roger finally shrugged. "She's forgetful, so she leaves things lying around. She makes a mess."

Andy barked out a harsh laugh. "Oh yes. Because that house was spotless!" She leaned on the table and fixed Roger with a fierce glare. "The house is a pig sty. I know, you lazy leech. I was there. I found your mother. Your old mother, lying half naked on the bed in the room that you locked her in!"

"I didn't lock her anywh-"

"Don't you dare lie to me!" Andy exclaimed, her voice jumping in volume, "I was there! I saw the lock on the outside of the door!"

Roger was silent, seemingly judging his options.

"I don't know what kind of a messed up person you have to be, to lock up your mother in a room in her own house after a major surgery, with no food, water, medication or bathroom!" Andy yelled at him, "You have abused and neglected a sick, old woman psychologically and physically and financially!" She was spitting mad, and Sam had gotten to his feet and was standing at her side, ready to hold her back if need be, "As soon as your mother forgot about you making payments, you stopped paying her for living in her house! What the hell happened to you, to do that to your own mother? Take advantage of her belongings and then shut her up in a room without providing basic needs! What the hell is the matter with you?"

Roger's face was slowly turning red. "You better shut the hell up," he said agitatedly, his fingers clenching into angry fists on the table top where they were handcuffed.

"Andy," Sam warned her.

"If it was up to me, you would be in jail, rotting away for the rest of your pathetic life," Andy spat at him.

Sam's hand closed around her upper arm and he squeezed firmly. "Andy, that's enough," he said firmly. He looked at her and she glared back at him before turning on her heel and stalking out of the interrogation room, slamming the door after herself.

The door to the viewing room opened and Oliver poked his head out, his jaw hanging open slightly. "Andy-" he started.

"Not now," Andy told him, turning and making her way to the women's locker room. She closed the door after herself and sank down onto one of the benches. She dropped her head into her hands and sucked in a deep breath, gathering herself. She swallowed against a ball of emotions in her throat and sighed.

What Roger Clarke had done to his mother was no doubt a horrible thing, but her reaction... Andy frowned slightly. She wasn't one to constantly rely on excuses, but there was no reason other than mood swings for that outburst.

A short time later the door to the locker room opened and she heard footfalls enter. "Andy?" asked Sam's voice, "Are you in here?"

Andy sighed. "I'm over here," she replied.

She heard his footfalls approaching and she felt Sam's gaze on her. She glanced up at him and found him standing across from her, leaning on a locker, arms crossed over his chest, eyes studying her. "What was that?" he asked her calmly.

Andy met his eye hesitantly and she shook her head. "I don't know," Andy said, "I got the call from her doctor and I dunno," she said, "I lost it. I don't know why somebody would do that to their own flesh and blood, I just don't get it."

"Me neither," Sam said.

Andy returned her gaze to the floor.

"A few minutes after you left, he told me everything," Sam said, "Admitted to the financial abuse. Admitted to locking her in the room-"

"Why though?" Andy asked him.

"Because with her dementia, she was a different person than the woman who raised him," Sam said, "He couldn't deal with the changes that his mother had experienced."

"So he locked her up?" Andy asked incredulously.

"He locked her up," Sam nodded.

Andy felt tears stinging at her eyes. She wiped at them and sniffled softly.

"Are you crying?" Sam asked her. He took a few steps forward and crouched in front of his wife, "Don't do that. Why are you crying?"

"This is stupid," Andy sniffled, wiping at her eyes, "I'm either a complete asshole or I'm crying like a baby. People are going to think that I've completely lost it."

Sam's arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her into a hug. "Don't worry," he said, "They'll all know why soon."

She pressed a kiss to his neck.

"I hope Edna is okay," she said as she hugged him back.

"I'm sure she will be. As long as she goes into a nursing home after all of this," Sam said.

Andy nodded. "Good news is that she probably won't remember any of it," Andy said with a frown.

"Oh," Sam said, "And Oliver is looking for you," he said, "So when you have a chance..."

"Was what I did inappropriate?" Andy asked him, "In the interrogation room?"

"Probably you were a bit harsh, but it got the point across," Sam said, "And we got what we needed out of it."

Andy heaved a sigh. "This was not exactly what I had planned for today."

"No kidding," Sam said. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, "I've got to go do some paperwork. Take a minute, calm down and then go talk to Oliver."

"Yessir," Andy mock saluted him and he couldn't help but grin at her.

"Okay smart-ass," he said.

Andy winked at him and Sam pressed a soft kiss to her lips before standing up straight and making his way out of the locker room. Once he was gone, she got to her feet and made her way towards the toilet stalls where she used the bathroom and then washed her hands. She ran her fingers back over her scalp and smoothed a few flyaway hairs back before she straightened out her uniform.

Once she was back in the main part of the station, she caught sight of Oliver sitting in the bullpen, tapping away on a computer. She walked towards him and he glanced up at her as she approached. "Hey," he said.

"Hi," Andy said.

Oliver opened his mouth to say something but Andy raised a hand and he stopped.

"I know what I said was inappropriate," Andy said, "And I'm sorry that-"

"Andy, come for a walk with me," he said, pushing himself to his feet.

Andy furrowed her eyebrows. "What?" she asked.

"Come with me," he said, placing a hand on the small of her back and ushering her towards a side entrance. He pushed it open and led her out. "I wanted to talk to you," he said, glancing around.

"What's going on Oliver?" Andy asked, "Is it about Sam?"

"Kind of," he said.

"Is it something bad?" Andy asked.

"No," he said, "Just a question," he said, "But you have to promise not to yell at me like you did with Roger Clarke today." He gave her a teasing grin.

Andy snorted. "What is it?" she asked him.

"Are you pregnant?" he asked, his voice quiet.

"What?" Andy asked sharply, "Why would you-? What?" she asked.

Oliver's face split into a small grin. "I take that as a yes," he said, "How far along?" he asked.

"About 13 weeks now," Andy said, averting her gaze, "We've been waiting to tell people, until I start to show."

"So I'm the first to know?" Oliver asked.

"You are," Andy confirmed.

"I'm happy for you, Andy," Oliver said, holding his arms out and drawing her into a hug. She returned it easily and felt a smile cross her face, "Congratulations."

"How did you know?" Andy asked him as she leaned out of the hug.

"You're forgetting that Zoe and I had three," he said, "I hate to say it, but you're a bit emotional," he said, "And you look different."

"I look different?" Andy asked.

"It sounds stupid, but you have a glow about you," Oliver said.

"Pretty sure that's just gas," Andy corrected him with a grin.

Oliver burst out laughing. "Well, be that as it may," he said, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder, "You look happy."

"I am," Andy said with a sincere smile, "We are."

"I'm glad," Oliver replied, "It's about time."

AN: I did promise a speedy update, didn't I? I hope you liked it, despite some of the heavier topics. Please let me know your thoughts. I know there wasn't tons of interaction between Sam and Andy in this one, but rather some work things and other relationships. Also, we got to see a touch of grumpy, pregnant Andy. Ha!

And a quick sidenote that's close to my heart, unfortunately the storyline of the son abusing his mother and locking her up was true. (Names have obviously been changed). One of my colleagues was the healthcare worker who discovered it. And as it turns out, the son was doing it because he was having a hard time with the changes that his mother was going through with her dementia related memory loss. So, if you are having troubles with seeing changes in loved ones due to meical conditions, please talk to somebody.