UnErasable

Summary: Just like the blood on his jacket, Stella couldn't be removed from his mind...

A/N: This is set during Grounds For Deception. I've never written for CSI: NY. I've not seen a lot of episode (like the last few of season 5 and the first couple of season 1), but I love Mac & Stella. I hope the characterization isn't too far off. Ugh, okay, enough of my rambling.

Disclaimer: I do not own them in the least.

Mac Taylor wasn't easily shaken, but today his whole world had been shook like a snowglobe. Running through a vineyard, chasing a man who was trying to kill his best friend, and probably would've, if it hadn't been for the sacrifice of another. He hated cases that ended this way, it wasn't why he took the job.

Stella was asleep in the room next to his and he breathed easy, knowing she was okay. He held his bloody jacket, the blood had dripped from Stella's hand and onto the back of his jacket during a hug he never wanted to end.

He held the gray jacket under the cold running water, it rushed over his hands and the water was tinted red. He scrubbed at it, rubbing soap into it repeatedly, but still the stain remained. Mac wiped his brow with the back of his shirt sleeve and continued to scrub. He kept at it until the water grew so cold that it physically hurt his hands.

Sighing, he tossed the jacket into the waste can. He rested his hands on the edge of the porcelain sink, breathing deeply through his nose and letting it out. He repeated the process over and over again -his knuckles grew white from gripping the edge of the sink so hard. When his heart rate returned to normal, he glanced in the mirror and walked back into his room.

He undid the cuffs of his dress shirt, unbuttoned the top four buttons of his shirt and fell down on to the bed. His arm tucked under his head, he waited for his mind to shut off and for sleep to overtake him.

It never came.

He turned on his side, then his stomach and finally his other side -no luck. He hummed the tune of a nameless song, closed his eyes and counted sheep. Still, nothing. Every time he closed his eyes, he was standing in that vineyard holding Stella as she cried. It happened every time Stella was in trouble, he'd go back to the moment over and over. It was the worst image in the world, knowing something out there could break Stella emotionally. And until he saw her smile again, heard her let out that little chuckle -nothing would be right in the world.

A soft knock came on his door and he got off the bed, walking wearily to the door and opening it. Stella stood on the otherside of the door frame, eyes puffy and red, a used kleenex wrinkled in her hands. He said nothing, just let her walk forward into his arms and her head rested against his chest.

"I can't stop seeing it." She whispered.

"I've got you." Mac whispered back, tracing his hand in a circular motion on her back.

"I just... I don't want to be alone right now." Stella told him, clearing her throat and tossing the kleenex into the waste basket by his bed.

"Okay." Mac nodded, he lead her over to his bed. He sat down on top the cotton sheets, scooting over, Stella climbed in beside him. Mac's arm wrapped around her shoulder and her head rested against the crook of his neck.

As Stella drifted off to sleep, Mac tucked a curly lock behind her ear and kissed her forehead. Just like the blood on his jacket, Stella couldn't be removed from his thoughts and maybe that wasn't such a bad thing.

A/N: I realize that's really short, but it's just meant to be a filler. And, like I said, I'm a newbie... so I hope it's not too horrible... and okay, really. enough. okay. I'm gonna post it now.