The day Pruitt Herrera died, Andy felt more pain than she thought possible. Robert had run into the building after her without a second thought but he wasn't the one to save her. Ultimately, it'd been her father, who'd given his life for her and her team. Andy never got to say goodbye. She didn't break down when she realized what'd happened. In fact, at the scene, she was the only member of the station not in tears as she stared at his hat and Maya informed them of his final heroic action, though she knew they'd already figured it out.

No one spoke on the way back to the station but many tears were shed. Again, not by Andy. She refused to let go and let herself think or cry or do anything that differentiated her from a robot. Not until she was alone. Until she could truly process the depth of what she was feeling Jack had to help her hang up her turnouts and guide her out of the station. Her face was blank. Empty.

When they got back to the apartment, he ran the shower for her and helped her strip, with little assistance from herself. He climbed in with her, almost oblivious as he got soaked and his clothing began to weight him down. Water dripped down her face, allowing tears to escape unnoticed at first, but once the seal was broken, everything came pouring out and Jack could barely stop her from collapsing on the bathroom floor in sobs and lowered her down carefully. Tears began escaping his own eyes, a combination of the loss of his hero, the physically draining day, and the sight before him. Sitting on the floor of the tub, he pulled her into his lap and craddeled her in his arms. She clung to his shirt as she sobbed, the pain evident in the cries reflecting only a little of the aches she suffered throughout her whole body. He didn't move when his legs went numb or his hands resembled raisins more than fingers. Not until her sobs finally died down, purely because of exhaust.

"I don't deserve you," she whispered to him when he helped her into bed.

"Try and get some sleep," he whispered, softly. He was well aware she couldn't love him, but this was bigger than that.

Andy never did fall asleep. Nor did she eat or talk. She wouldn't have even remembered she needed to leave for her mothers wedding so soon if Rosie hadn't called her to try and get her flight information so he could pick her up. He immediately picked up that something was wrong.

"I'll be there Thursday," she simply replied before hanging up. By the time Thursday morning came, Andy had practically been awake for three days. The only sleep she'd gotten had been out of extreme exhaust and was restless. Not to mention she was on the verge of fainting every time she stood and was extremely dehydrated. Still, she packed a bag an hour before Jack dropped her off at the airport, and made her way to Miami. Rosie had failed to get her flight information out of her and had no idea when and where to go pick her up. She ignored his texts and got a cab home. While it was more expensive she wasn't ready to see anyone just yet: another reason she was glad her mother had left her a key under the mat, having to be at work when she arrived. She was so tired, she took no notice of the familiar car parked across the street.

"Villa, is that you?" Ira called out from the kitchen when he heard the door open.

"Hornstock? What are you doing here so early?" She asked, doing her best to mask her exhaust while closing the door behind her. Speaking was the last thing she wanted to do. She thought she might throw up.

"Finished a case. Thought I'd clean up for your moms dinner," he explained, traveling from the kitchen to the dinning room. He hesitated for a moment at the sight of her. Her hair was dull and slightly tangled and her red rimmed eyes were bloodshot. She wore a green jacket too large for her and too warm for the Miami weather, but she was still cold. Her lips were bloodless and he wouldn't have been surprised if she wavered in her stance, but still, she forced a weak smile on her face. He pulled it together immediately, telling her, "welcome back," as he continued towards her. "How was the flight?"

"Not bad."

"I've got your bag," he replied, taking it from her shoulder and starting towards her old room. Annalise might have commented on his gentlemanly act if she had the energy for wit. She could barely follow him but eventually worked up the energy to say something.

"Thanks. So, the big day's tomorrow. Excited?"

"I can barely wait," he told her, stepping into her room and setting down the bag. "Hey, you okay?" He asked, placing his hands on his hips, concerned.

"Yeah. Course." She set her phone down on the nightstand. "Can I help you clean up?" She offered.

"I'm okay. You should lay down. I'll be here if you need anything," he said, stepping past her towards the hall, placing a hand on her back supportively as he did so. Once he'd left her room, she let out a sigh, upset she'd failed to hide her exhaust. After everything he's done for you, you can pull it together for one weekend.

She climbed on the bed and she tried to sleep, but it quickly turned into a miserable battle once again. When she was upset about Ryan, she wanted her dad. When she was upset about her dad, she wanted Ryan. Tears fell onto her pillow, every breath more painful than the last. For a while she imagined she was inhaling water in an attempt to make the pain make sense.

When she heard her mother return, she harshly wiped her tears away and pulled herself together as quickly as she could. She put on a smile, hugged her mother, asked about the wedding, and then sat her down to inform her of Pruitt's death. The grief was similar to the warning he was going to die. It was upsetting but she didn't dwell on it. She mostly felt for her daughter, who was clearly being held together by scotch tape and paperclips no matter how hard she tried to hold it together. When Annalise went to wash her face, Daisy informed Ira, who'd assumed, though he was in awe of the man when he heard how he'd gone.

Annalise offered to help with the cooking and seeing how she hadn't fallen asleep before, they let her. She worked in silence, listening to her mothers playlists, relieved the woman wasn't trying to make her dance, instead watching the couple. Though smiling was difficult, it was much easier when Daisy tried to humor her by making Ira dance.

When Daisy ran out of things for her daughter to do, Annalise pulled out her small bag of make up in attempt to help her look a little more... alive, but she was no make up artist. In fact, it'd been years since she wore much at all, seeing how she had no use for it on the job. So in the end, she only wore a little foundation and still felt she looked horrendous.

She sighed and went back to her room to search her bag for eyedrops. She surrendered when the doorbell rang.

Daisy didn't have the time to inform Rosie, Tara, or Pippi of Annalise's loss before Annalise made her way into the hall, but Rosie knew the moment he saw her. She smiled and greeted her old friends, asked how they were doing, and pretended everything was okay, but she wasn't really there and found herself surprised she was standing in the kitchen, being asked if she'd like something to drink while everyone else chatted away.

"I'm okay," she told her mother with a small smile, regretting she'd let herself slip even for a moment. She tuned back in to hear Pippi asking about the honeymoon, which they chose to delay, both of them busy wrapping up at work.

"Besides, I want to spend as much time with my daughter as I can before she starts running into fires again." Annalise laughed lightly and smiled at her mother, who'd had some worry behind her words.

"Villa," Rosie said quietly, hovering behind her, a hand landing on her back. She glanced back at him to see him nudge his head, signaling for her to follow him into the hall.

"What's up?" She asked, trying to sound casual. The floor tipped slightly under her but it didn't threaten her ability to stay standing. Instead, it was her muscles, running on nothing, that cried for a break that made her lean her back against the wall. They spoke in hushed tones, aware of how well the sound carried since they could make out the conversation in the next room.

"When's the last time you slept?" Any bit hope of casual conversation was drained from her face and now, she just looked annoyed.

"Rosie, this isn't the time." She went to walk away but he grabbed her arm, lightly pulling her back. When he'd seen her in Seattle, she'd been bothered, but that was only the prequel to what was going on with her now.

"You're weak, you're eyes are bloodshot, and I can pick out about a dozen other things that tell me this is getting dangerous."

"My body will shut down when it needs to-" she began, only to be interrupted by Rosie, who wasn't going to let her pretend it was okay to stop participating in any of the activities that kept her alive.

"You're risking your health. And let me tell you, that's not something I take lightly. Look, Villa, you need a sedative. You need to sleep."

"I'm not going to sleep through my moms wedding."

"I know. But take something over the counter tonight and after the wedding, I'll prescribe you something stronger." She still seemed reluctant. "Please." At the last word, Villa relaxed, nodding. Sleeping through the pain might not be so bad. "Okay," he replied, gratefully. "And you need to eat something. Tonight." Before she could deny another symptom of her grief, the doorbell interrupted them and house filled with another three familiar faces, belonging to Ryan Slade, Mitchie, and Donna.

"It's so nice to be together again," Tara commented as they took their seats.

"Before you all leave me for the rain," Ryan added.

"Hey, offer still stands," Ira told the man who wasn't quite willing to give up captain of the EMPD to work under him. Annalise was proud of herself when she lasted the entire meal without drifting off into her own world and forcing herself to engage in conversation, though she mostly pushed her food around on her plate. Rosie reached out and placed a hand on her knee supportively, which she couldn't have been more grateful for.

At one point during dinner, Daisy remembered the man she'd uttered so few words about and asked for an update.

"That's not a thing anymore," she replied in such a way her mother knew to move right past it.

-

A/N- It. Is. Not. July.

Anyone watch the table read?