Title: Detritus
Author: SK
Rating: FRT
Pairing: None; Mac/Stella focus
Content Warning: None
Spoilers: All Access
Authors Notes: As always, huge thanks to Moska, the best partner in fic writing crime I could ever ask for. Without your help and encouragement, this simply wouldn't exist. It would also be title-less.
Summary: Stella deals with the after effects of Frankie's shooting.

Don't own the characters, wish I did ;)

--

Mac knew without a doubt who it was when he heard the tentative knock on his door. He got up from his paperwork, checking the peephole out of habit more than need, and quickly opened the door. "Hey," he said softly, stepping back to let her in. He noticed the not-quite-dry tear tracks on her cheeks, but otherwise she seemed pretty much as she had been when he dropped her off.

Stella just offered a small smile as she walked in. She didn't want to talk and knew she didn't need to explain her presence. "Hey," she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she fought to keep it steady.

As they walked toward the couch, Mac passed Stella the TV and stereo remotes before sitting back down in front of his paperwork. "Do what you need to," he offered. He was glad that the chair faced the couch, it allowed him to keep an eye on her without it being obvious.

Stella just nodded, slipping out of her shoes. She sat back in the corner of the couch furthest from his char and pulled her knees to her chest. Mac's couch was comforting, as was his presence, even if they weren't talking. She wasn't even sure how long she'd been sitting there when she rose and said, "Grabbing water, want anything while I'm up?"

"I'm good, thanks," Mac said, looking up from his paperwork. He was glad she'd come, glad she felt comfortable there if not at her apartment. He didn't blame her for not being at ease there. While he understood the desire to go home, he wasn't sure he'd have been able to stay either.

After taking a long drink, Stella set her glass on the table and settled back on the couch, half sitting and half lying down. When she turned in towards the back of the couch Mac offered, "Want me to switch off the lights?"

"S'fine," Stella said.

"OK."

About half an hour had passed and Stella opened her eyes when she felt Mac covering her with the blanket. She didn't say anything, just blinked back tears as Mac offered her a small smile. "Pillow is probably more comfortable than the arm," he said softly.

"Thanks," she said, accepting the pillow he offered and tucking it between her head and the corner of the couch as she shut her eyes again.

"Do whatever you need to during the night," he said softly as she burrowed under the blanket. As he crossed the room to the bathroom he turned back to look at her one last time and shook his head before switching off the main light.

Mac wasn't initially sure what woke him at 3:17, but he was quickly on his feet and moving toward the bathroom when he heard the sound again. The bathroom light wasn't on but he could see from the hall light, which he'd left on for her benefit, that Stella was crouched in front of the toilet and vomiting.

She must have heard him approach because as he took a step closer she shook her head and said, "Mac, please!"

"OK," he said quickly, not wanting to cause her any more stress. Moving quietly he wet a washcloth and filled a paper cup and said "Washcloth and water are on the sink if you want them." He didn't move far, and sat perched on the arm of the closest chair just outside the bathroom.

He was glad when, maybe five minutes later, he heard the toilet flush and the water turn on followed by a tentative "Mac?"

"Right here," he said, moving toward the door.

"Can you grab me a clean shirt?"

"Sure." He eyed her bag but didn't feel right going through it so grabbed a t-shirt of his own from his drawer. "Here ya go," he said, passing it around the partially closed door. "Just toss your shirt in the washer. Can get ya gloves if you want to have a shower and your hands are stinging?"

"No, thanks," Stella said, slowly pulling the purple henley over her head. She'd woken up earlier and slipped out of her jeans in favour of a pair of yoga pants she'd brought, but had decided not to bother changing out of her shirt. She wasn't sure how long her arms had been tied, but it was long enough for them to be sore. She stretched them slightly before slipping the fresh t-shirt over her head, not even realising it wasn't her own until she saw how loose it was.

After rinsing her shirt as much as possible, she put it in the washer. Emerging from the bathroom, she offered Mac a small smile as she crossed to the couch. "Sorry for waking you," she said softly as she sat in the corner of the couch, her knees pulled to her chest and her arms wrapped around her legs.

Mac shook his head. "None of this is your fault and I don't want you to apologise. For anything."
After a moment he added, "And don't feel you have to talk now if you're not in the mood. I just wanted to make sure you were OK."

Stella just nodded and mumbled something that sounded to Mac like it might have been "You're fine." A minute or two later she looked over at him and said, "All our training teaches us not to react at a scene. All I was doing was thinking about it, and I got sick."

"It's different when it's yourself. Your own life."

"Yeah," Stella said, shrugging her shoulders. She knew that on some level, but her brain was torn between being Stella and Detective Bonasera at the moment. "Guess I'm not really such a big girl," she added softly, thinking back on her words to Mac outside the hospital.

Mac shook his head and moved from the chair to the couch and turned to face her, still taking care to stay out of her space. "You've been through hell in the last 36 hours Stella. I know some of it from going through your apartment and reading Flack's report but I also know I can't begin to imagine what you're feeling. Any reaction you have, mental or physical is not only acceptable but probably to be expected."

"It's why you wanted me to take time off?"

"No, I want you to take time off to take care of yourself. I've never once worried about your performance on the job, and I wouldn't start now. I wanted to make sure though that you'd take care of yourself. Allow yourself to do what you needed."

"It...I didn't..." Stella hesitated and reached for her glass of water as she considered what she was going to say. She took a few tentative sips and asked, "Mind running through some things with me? I'm still trying to sort some of it out in my head."

"Of course not," Mac said, knowing there were answers he still didn't have. Hoping that, like always, the two of them could work together to make sense of the little things and get the big picture.

Stella set her glass back down on the coffee table and took a long hard look at her hands before looking back up at Mac, "I cut my hands on the razorblade, didn't I?"

"That's what it looks like. At first I wasn't sure if he'd cut you, but then Sheldon lifted only your prints off the blade."

Stella nodded. "He left me in the tub when the doorbell rang after...After threatening me with the knife again if I made a sound. I knew...Once I heard him walk down to the kitchen I knew this was probably my only chance." she added silently. "Nearly blew it when...I didn't intend to make a sound but my body just...reacted," Stella said, shuddering at the thought. "I didn't put it together until I saw the blood when I went back. I...Was sloppy freeing my legs but I could hear him coming and knew if I didn't get out of the tub I was a sitting duck."

"Do you know why he put you in the tub?"

Stella thought for a moment before shaking her head. "He didn't say. I...He dragged me."

Mac nodded solemnly, "One of the first things I saw when I went back to your apartment. Your cell phone and the drag marks."

Stella winced at that, "I was still out of it. I don't think I knew what he was going to do until he dragged me from my bedroom and even then I wasn't sure where he was taking me until he put me in the tub."

"Out of it?" Mac asked, curiously but without making it appear like he was pushing her.

"He..." Stella let out a deep breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding and reached over for her water, which she quickly drained. Not because she was thirsty but because she wanted to buy some time.

"There's juice in the fridge too, or I can make coffee," Mac offered as Stella got to her feet.

"Water is fine. Want anything?" she asked for the second time that evening.

Mac shook his head as he thought about what Stella had said, and what she hadn't said. He looked back over when she sat down. "You cold?" he asked as she pulled the blanket up around herself.

Stella shook her head. She was, but not because of the temperature. Taking another sip of water, she took a deep breath and said, "I wasn't worried about what he might have done when I was unconscious when you found me. I...He couldn't have gotten to me then, but...he knocked me out earlier."

Mac couldn't hide his shock at that. While all of this violence surprised him, for some reason the idea of Frankie knocking Stella out was worse. "What happened? Do you remember?" he asked patiently.

Stella nodded tentatively. "He...It was after he put the knife to my throat. He shoved me down on my bed and...I don't know what I thought he was going to do, Mac. He'd never been violent, never even showed a hint. It was like I told Don, I didn't think he was a threat but then all of a sudden it was like he snapped. He went from setting the table to grabbing the phone to the knife at my throat to practically dragging me by my hair to the bedroom. I've... Mac, in all my years I don't think I've ever been that frightened." He could tell she wasn't finished, so he looked at her encouragingly. He was in awe of what she'd been through and how relatively calm she still was.

"He...told me he found the statue by the trash chute and...Next thing I was pinned, face down on my bed and he was tying my hands. He pulled me up and started binding my ankles and...I begged him Mac. I pleaded..."

When she looked down in defeat, Mac slid a bit closer and put a hand on her wrist. "You did what you had to Stella. You didn't have a choice."

"That's what I told Don. I couldn't get to my Glock and he had the knife." Stella shook her head and angrily wiped at a tear that threatened to fall. She'd said it, twice now, but still didn't believe it. "My boyfriend...He put a knife to my throat. I...Should have seen this coming. Should have seen the signs."

"You couldn't have," Mac said, meaning well but knowing his words sounded hollow.

"He'd stolen my key and made a mold, Mac. This wasn't a spur of the moment pissed off at me thing. Tell me something. Honestly?"

"You know I wouldn't lie to you, Stella."

"Do you think he was planning this?"

Mac sighed. One of the questions he couldn't answer. He knew she knew that, that she wasn't expecting an answer but it went against all their training. The frustration at not being able to give an answer when it mattered most. "Wish I could tell you, Stel. But nothing that I saw gave me cause to think he'd been planning anything like this."

"But?" They'd worked together long enough. Stella knew when Mac was hesitating. She knew though that he was doing it not out of a lack of respect for her, but because he still needed time to put it together in his head.

"He'd set up a camera." Mac paused to watch Stella's reaction and could tell she wanted him to go on. "In the light in your bathroom. Closest to the door and across from the shower. Wireless. Don't know how long it's been there or whether it's collected any data. I wanted your OK before I looked at any of that. No one else has seen it, or is aware of it. It's under lock and key."

"Son of a bitch!" Stella snapped, punching the couch cushion with her free right fist. A few minutes later, her temper somewhat under control, she went on. "I trusted him, Mac. I was an idiot."

"No you weren't. You were a woman in a relationship. You can't let the job always jade you Stella, you had no reason not to trust him."

"I still can't believe he was following me. Looking back, I shouldn't have gone home but...Never expected something like this."

"You couldn't have," Mac said, echoing his earlier words in a hope that they'd magically gain meaning. "You said you didn't view him as a threat so why wouldn't you go home?"

Stella managed a small nod before pulling her knees in even tighter, almost as if trying to curl into herself. She let a few minutes pass as she tried to steady her emotions before speaking again. "He told me he didn't believe me when I said I'd been meaning to return his calls, and then he hit me. He hit me while my hands were tied. Hit me so hard I went flying from the bed to the floor and I blacked out." She looked over at Mac, not surprise to see his veins popping from the back of his hand as his fist tightened.

Mac was furious, but for Stella's sake he tried not to let it show. She'd been through enough. "He was wearing a ring?" he asked.

"I don't think so. Hit it just right," Stella said, reaching up and gingerly touching her bruised cheek. "Doc said I was lucky not to have a broken bone." She went quiet again, and Mac used the time to think, not wanting to push her for any more than she was ready to discuss. When she spoke again, her voice was much softer. "No idea how long I was out. I...When you mentioned the rape kit, I wanted to protest. To say Frankie would never do something like that, but...I realised after tonight I didn't know him at all."

"I didn't want to be the one to mention it, but I'd rather you mad at me and know you're OK than worry."

"I wouldn't have gotten mad. I... I might have lashed out, but if I thought about it, I knew you were right. I trust you, you know that. I needed you to be there at my place. To find out what happened and sort it out since I couldn't and you were the only one I'd have wanted to do it. I know I wasn't very clear-headed but I knew you were there and why and..."

Stella trailed off and Mac said, "It's OK. I understand." He did, and while he wanted to stay with her at the hospital to make sure she was OK, he too knew he needed to be the one to process her apartment.

"Flack said a neighbour called 911?" Stella asked, wanting to address one of the holes she still had in her understanding of the story.

"Yeah," Mac said, grateful for the opportunity to be able to answer some questions. "I was with Lindsay on the Russo shooting." At the puzzled look on Stella's face, he added. "Kid Rock's limo driver."

"Ahh right, Flack said Danny and Lindsay worked that."

"Yeah I swapped with Danny but initially I was there with Lindsay. I was out by the squad cars when the 10-10 came over the radio. I stopped of course, and then they said your address and I just. I froze," Mac admitted and stopped. He thought that through his time in the Corps and the crime scenes he worked, he'd gone numb. Didn't think any violence could affect him after 911 and losing Claire. Didn't think anything could freeze him in his tracks and then he'd heard All Units. 10-10. Shots fired. 2344 Lexington Avenue. Possible Officer involved. Apartment 12 Charlie. Repeat, possible Officer involved. His world had stopped.

"First thing I remember is you slapping my cheek. Trying to wake me."

Mac nodded. "Flack heard the call at the same time I did and we met at your place with a couple unis. He took the door down and we went in. I...spotted Frankie first but with the way you'd fallen, face down, between the bed and the chairs I couldn't tell what kind of shape you were in, but... Deep down I knew something was wrong because otherwise you'd have responded to Flack and I. I kept my gun on Frankie 'til Flack came in and then I went to you. He said Frankie was dead and I was frantically trying to get a pulse. I'd turned you over and knew you hadn't been shot but I didn't know how severely you were hurt, or whether a head injury was behind your unconsciousness."

"Took me a second to realise who you were. Where I was. Did I pass back out?"

"No, but you weren't fully there either. I rode with you to the hospital and while you were aware, I don't think you were 100."

Stella shook her head. "I know I wasn't. Still not. Thank you for riding with me."

"No problem."

"I...I knew he was dead. Otherwise I'd have been dead if he'd gotten to me then, but I was still afraid. I...When I came to...after the punch said he was going to 'teach me a thing or two about crime scenes'. Mac, I have no idea what he had in mind or why he just snapped." She let one tear fall this time, but bit her lip and took a couple of deep breaths in an effort to prevent more.

Once she was calmer, Mac reached for her hand and said, "Can I ask another hard question?"

Stella didn't say anything, just nodded. She knew there was no way she could keep her voice steady and wasn't sure if she could hold back the tears that were threatening to fall once she opened her mouth.

Still holding her hand Mac said, "When I printed the gun, I found his prints on it as well. What happened, Stella?" he asked carefully, aware that he'd asked the same question once she'd been admitted to the ER.

Stella stayed quiet for a moment, and the trembling started before she began to speak. "He...Oh God..." The trembles progressed into full body shakes as she found her voice. "He...he...was going to shoot me...Mac...he DID try to shoot me...but...but...he didn't know to rack the slide. Oh God..."

She tried to pull away, but Mac held her hand tight. He knew he'd caused the tears but at the same time he was glad to be there when it did hit, because he knew it would eventually.

"I could have died. He wanted to kill me," she said, her voice becoming more and more unsteady as she struggled to catch her breath. This was different to someone taking a shot at her on the street, this was personal. "Oh God," she said, nearly hyperventilating.

Without letting go of her hand, Mac moved next to her and wrapped his other arm around her back and hooked it around her waist. He leaned in and whispered, "I gotcha. You're here and you're safe. Just let it go."

Stella unconsciously leaned against him as he held her, trying to calm herself down. "He...I...We struggled over the gun and...He pointed it at me...he tried to fire and I froze. I...In that half second, I..." She stopped and let some tears fall, unable to stop them.

Mac didn't know what to say, so he stayed quiet. Just holding her. It was all he could do. Though he'd seen the knife, the blood and the prints on the gun and knew that Stella had been in danger, he was only beginning to realise how close she'd come. Pushing those thoughts from his brain, he instead focused on her being here, and safe and murmured as much into her ear in an attempt to calm her.

"I...Can't help but wonder if I made it worse," Stella said tentatively a few minutes later, her voice only just above a whisper.

Mac wanted to immediately tell her she hadn't, that she couldn't have, but didn't want to make it seem like he was minimizing her worries. "How?" he asked instead, matching her tone.

"I...When I got out of the tub I realised I wouldn't make it out of the bathroom in time so I went behind the door and slammed the door in his face when he realised where I was. It knocked the knife from his hand and bought me time. But instead of just getting out, I went for my Glock. I...maybe I should have just gotten out."

"Why'd you choose to go for the gun?"

Stella shrugged, she didn't totally know. "I guess with our training, I...Thought it...I don't know," Stella finally said.

"Do you regret it?"

"I just think...There could have been another outcome. I don't know if his intention all along was to kill me or just to scare me, but... Mac, he had numerous chances to go for the gun and didn't. Not until I went for it."

"You did what you had to," Mac said.

Stella just shrugged and went quiet, closing her eyes as she leaned her head on Mac's shoulder. When she opened her eyes a few minutes later, she realised the light in the room wasn't from a lamp that Mac had magically turned on. It was morning. "I shouldn't have come. You shouldn't have had to deal with this after working my apartment all day."

"I'm glad you came," Mac said. "I can deal with helping you through anything and everything and I'm more than willing to do whatever you need. But I cannot imagine myself losing you after losing Claire."

Stella stayed quiet for a moment, shocked at his directness. "But you've got to work and I kept you up all night," she finally said softly.

"I'll be fine. Now tell me...I'll let this be your call. I can go in if you want some space, or I can take the day if you want company. You tell me what you need."

Stella hesitated and Mac was glad that she wasn't automatically telling him to go to work. "Go in," she finally said. "I...I'd love to tell you I'm just going to sleep, but I'm not sure I will. I just...I think I need some time to sort it all out."

"Want me to go to the store and get you something to help you sleep?"

Stella shook her head, "Not yet. Don't want to resort to that. But...Do you have any milk?" Stella asked, finally pulling back slightly from his arms.

"Sure. I'll get it," he said as she started to stand. "You get comfy."

Stella shook her head. "Gotta use the bathroom anyway." First though she got to her feet and padded to his kitchen. "Any mugs that can't go in the microwave?"

"Nope. Warm milk?" he asked inquisitively.

Stella shrugged as she headed to the bathroom. "Sometimes it works." When she emerged from the bathroom, feeling slightly better after having splashed cold water on her face, she saw that Mac had set the mug on the coffee table. "Thanks," she said, sitting down on the edge of the couch and taking a sip before lying back down and looking up at Mac.

"Why don't you crawl in my bed?" Mac asked. "It's more comfortable. I can grab what I need out of there and won't disturb you."

Stella shook her head. "This is fine."

Mac nodded. "If you change your mind...And it goes without saying, use, eat...whatever you want. You have a change of clothes, and if those don't keep you comfortable, feel free to raid my closet and drawers."

At that, Stella smiled. "Thank you, Mac. For everything."

"You're welcome. You need anything today, you call."

"I will. I'll check in when I wake up."

"Good."

It was just before lunchtime when Mac's phone rang and he saw a familiar number on the display. "Mornin'" he said with a grin.

"Hey," she said softly. She'd been up for a bit but not having spoken to anyone, her voice was still husky.

"Sleep OK?"

"Yeah, didn't hear you leave."

"Good. I tried to be quiet."

"Woke up and expected to still hear you getting ready and then I looked at the clock."

"Glad you slept."

"Me too but...Can I ask a favour?"

"Of course."

"I need to see his body. I...need to see for myself."

Mac nodded. He'd been expecting this. "I'll make the arrangements and come pick you up."

"I can take a cab," Stella said, not wanting him to go out of his way, on top of everything he'd already done.

"Stella, I'm going with you. I'll pick you up."

"OK," she said. She was glad he'd offered to come. "I'll meet you downstairs."

"I'll call you when I'm on my way."

"Thank you."

Stella was happy that Hammerback was the only person in the morgue when she and Mac walked in. She wasn't sure how she was going to react and didn't particularly want an audience. They'd managed to avoid anyone else on their way in, and she was happy because she wasn't particularly in a talking mood. "Hey," she said softly.

"Hi," he said, nodding to both of them. "You doing OK?"

"Yeah," Stella said. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." He stepped away from the table he'd been working at and walked over to the wall. Opening the drawer where Frankie lay, he stepped away and said, "I'll be in the hall. Yell if you need me."

Stella just nodded as she approached the drawer. She knew Mac was close, but was glad he'd stayed back. She needed to do this herself. She looked down and studied Frankie's face before focusing on the three bullet holes in his chest. She felt the tears welling in her eyes, but didn't realise she'd made a sound until she felt Mac's hand on the small of her back. "I'm OK," she said quickly, more sharply then she meant.

"OK," he said, stepping back but still within arm's reach.

There was a lot going through her mind, but "Why? Why, Frankie?" was all Stella was able to get out. She caught herself staring at his closed eyes, as if expecting a response. How the hell did this happen? she thought to herself. It wasn't as if she thought he was 'the one' but she'd certainly enjoyed his company and...She shook her head, wiped a tear that had slipped down her cheek and whispered, "Done" as she gently pushed the door shut.

Mac wordlessly offered her a handkerchief and waited as she dabbed at her eyes.

"Thanks," she said softly, returning it to him.

"Feel like lunch?" He knew it would sound odd to others, to be discussing food in a room of dead bodies, but he knew Stella. Knew she'd want to return to normal rather than dwelling on what had happened.

Stella shrugged. She felt numb and wasn't sure what she wanted. A week ago she and Frankie had been in his bed, and now she was viewing his body. At that she shuddered. "Gotta get out," she said quickly as she began to walk faster.

"Go out the back entrance," Mac said. "There's the bench there."

Stella nodded, not even pausing to speak with Hammerback as they walked past him.

"Thanks," Mac said.

"No problem, let me know if I can do anything," the doctor said.

"I will," Mac said as he followed Stella out. He was grateful that the area, which sometimes doubled as a smoking area, was empty. As Stella sat down with her elbows on her knees and her face in her hands, he put a hand on her shoulders and asked, "Want some water?"

She was torn between saying she was fine and accepting his offer, but in the end a need for a few minutes' space won out. "Please?"

"Be right back," he said as he headed back in the door they'd come out of. When he returned he was glad to see she had her head up and seemed OK. "Here ya go," he said, offering her the bottle.

"Thanks," she said, taking a long drink. "Didn't expect it to hit me like that."

"It happens," Mac said. "You feel better?"

"Yeah I...I believed you, but I just. I needed to see it. For my own peace of mind."

"I don't blame you, I..." Mac was about to go on when he was interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone. "Detective Taylor," he said as he answered. "Yeah. No. I can be there. Just give me ten; I'm down at the morgue now. OK. See you then."

"Meeting?" Stella asked.

"Bigwigs. After effects of Sonny Sassone," Mac said, shaking his head. "You say the word 'gang' and everyone jumps. "Want me to see who's around. I'm sure Danny or Flack could drop you off."

Stella shook her head, she wasn't in the mood for company and didn't particularly want to talk. "I'll get a cab."

"You sure?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I...Don't know if they've finished at my place but...do you mind?"

"Not at all," Mac said. "Try and get some rest. I'll pick up dinner."

Stella shook her head. "Think I feel like cooking."

"OK," Mac said. "Just call me if you change your mind and I'll pick up something."

Stella nodded. "I will. Thanks again. Say hi to everyone for me? I just..."

"Sure," Mac said as he hailed her a cab.

Mac unlocked his apartment just before 4:30 and was immediately hit by a pleasant smell coming from the kitchen. Stella wasn't on the couch and he walked into the kitchen to see if anything needed attention. It didn't. The sauce was simmering, and he couldn't resist a taste of the spicy tomato sauce that Stella preferred.

That done, he walked into the bedroom and smiled at the sight of Stella's curls on the pillow. He walked as quietly as possible to the dresser but wasn't surprised when her eyes popped open. "Sorry," he said softly. "Trying to be quiet."

Stella relaxed when she realised who the footsteps belonged to. "'t's OK," she said sleepily. "How was the meeting?"

"Usual," Mac said. "Gave up on the couch?"

Stella nodded. "Was almost afraid to unmake the bed. It was too perfect."

Mac grinned at that. "Old habits die hard." Grabbing some clothes from the drawer he said, "Going to have a shower, go back to sleep. Do I need to do anything with the sauce?"

Stella shook her head. "I just need to make the pasta," she said as she started to get up.

"I'll do it, you sleep."

"But if I do it while you're in the shower it'll be ready."

"You that hungry?"

Stella shook her head, she still hadn't eaten anything substantial and in fact wasn't sure she'd be able to.

"Me either," Mac said. "So you sleep and we'll eat when you wake up."

"OK," Stella agreed, not intending to go back to sleep. However, when she next opened her eyes the room was dark. She looked over at the clock and saw it was 7:58 PM. She had to admit, she felt better. She let her eyes adjust to the darkness before getting up and making her way out to the living room. "Hey," she said softly, not wanting to startle Mac, who was doing paperwork. "Oops," she added with a smile, knowing he'd tell her not to apologise.

"Have a good sleep?"

"Yeah, very good," Stella said, sitting down on the end of the couch closest to Mac's chair and tucking her legs underneath her.

"Nice outfit," he teased, eyeing her yoga pants paired with a t-shirt and the shirt he'd worn to work the day before.

"I was chilly and it was handy," she said with a smile. "Weather's crazy. I go from wearing a sundress to needing long sleeves."

"Want me to turn up the heat?"

Stella shook her head. "Fine now, so long as you don't need the shirt right away."

"Nahh," Mac said, grinning. Looks better on you anyway, he thought. "You hungry?" he asked a moment later, closing the file he'd been working on and moving to sit next to her on the couch.

Stella shook her head. "Hope you didn't wait for me to eat?"

"I wanted to, but I thought my stomach growling would wake you. That, and the smell of your sauce was too tempting. I'll make you a plate?"

"I don't think I can eat that much," Stella said. "Might try something light."

"OK," Mac said. "Want an egg?"

Stella shook her head, even that turned her stomach. "Thinking about one of your apples," she said as she got to her feet.

"Help yourself and feel free to rummage if you want more later," Mac said. "There should be salad stuff and...Not sure what else," he admitted.

"I will." As Stella sat back on the couch with the apple, she started to think. "Can't believe it's been 48 hours," she said softly a few minutes later.

"Feel like more or less?" Mac asked.

"Don't know," Stella said. "A bit of both," she admitted.

"It'll get easier," Mac said.

"It'll be easier if you let me come back to work. I don't like my own thoughts for company during the day."

Mac hesitated. He wanted to say no, that she wasn't ready, but he also realised the trust she was putting in him by asking him again after he'd said no once already. "You think you're ready?" he asked. "Because I don't think burying this is going to help."

Stella sighed. "I don't know, but I want to try. I don't want to bury this. I want to get through this. But I can't do that by sitting at home-whether it's yours or mine. I need to work through this."

"Start with a couple hours? See how you feel."

"OK," Stella agreed. "Tomorrow?"

"I'd like you to see the counsellor first."

Stella wanted to argue. To tell him she didn't need to but if he could compromise, she would too. "I'll see if I can get a morning appointment and come in after?"

"OK."

"That was easier than I expected," Stella said with a smile.

"I don't want to make this harder for you. You've been through enough. I just wanted to make sure you took the proper steps. That you didn't rush."

Stella nodded. "I'm not rushing but...I need to work."

"OK," Mac said. "Just promise me one thing?"

"Sure."

"If you need a break, you'll let me know."

"I will."

"Give it to the end of next week on reduced hours and we re-evaluate then?"

"OK," Stella said. "And...can I ask one more favor?"

"Name it."

"I know you went through my place. I know you'd have found anything else if it was there but once clean up has gone through, will you go through it with me again?"

"Sure. And...you're welcome to stay here as long as you want."

"Thank you..." Stella was quiet for a moment as she ate a bit of the apple. "I wouldn't have gotten through this without your help," she said softly.

--

Any thoughts, I'd love to hear from you.