Note From the Author—Very short, but I couldn't seem to help myself, mostly because I'm a bit terrified that something like this could actually happen at the beginning of the next season. Enjoy.
Disclaimer—Okay, we all know I don't own the characters, which means it's a sad day for me. Also, though I technically thought of the title and then the song popped into my head, I will still give credit for the title of the story as coming from the Daughtry song Home.
Flack had dealt with pain before; there was no escaping it in his line of work. He had been blown up, his body ripped to shreds and painfully knit back together. He had felt that pain for months on end, through the therapy and recovery, and it still bit at him occasionally, usually when he least expected it. He knew pain, he was intimate with pain.
Somewhere deep inside he knew it would happen some day. He'd seen it coming even as he'd prayed that it wouldn't. Still he knew it too was unavoidable, and when Mac had been taken hostage that inevitability had suddenly come barreling at Don like a speeding train, and he was helpless to step off the tracks.
He thought he had prepared himself, steeled himself for what was coming. He knew pain and he could deal with it again. But when they found Mac, when Stella ran into his arms and they kissed each other like the world was coming to an end, it felt as if someone had torn his still beating heart from his chest. Flack had seen it coming, but he had been wrong, so wrong to think that he could handle it; this was a different kind of pain entirely.