I borrowed Jenna's Synn again. I also didn't think this was good, but Jenna loves it and I love her. So I'm posting it. The end.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
I think about you,
Eight years old,
Big blue eyes,
and a heart of gold
-Collin Raye
Mac Taylor stood outside the hospital room, peaking through the slits in the blinds he observed them. Stella sat on the bed in a hospital gown with the sheet bunched around her waist while Synnöve lay on the bed next to her on top of the blankets, her head burrowed into Stella's shoulder. Stella's hand trailed through the sixteen year old's vibrant blue locks as she muttered a Greek prayer.
Frankie had hurt his girls; Stella was bruised and battered, healing in a hospital, while Synnöve had her faith in men shaken once again. If he wasn't already dead, Mac would have killed him – no questions asked. Things were supposed to be better now; Stella had custody of Synnöve and Mac was spending time with the both of them.
Synnöve's case was one of those career shaking cases; her parents brutally murdered, their five year old daughter left as the survivor. Stella and Mac had kept contact with her when she was placed in an orphanage – Stella finagling visitation and weekends with her before she had been put in foster care due to the orphanage being overfilled. He could never fault Stella for her actions, Synnöve – in all her blue haired, goth clothes, loud music loving glory – had found a place in his heart that broke down the walls he fought so hard to keep up. That's why Mac had volunteered to help Stella get custody when they arrested Synnöve's foster father for murder.
Mac was pulled from his revery when the doctor touched his shoulder and informed him that Stella would have to spend the night. With a nod, Mac opened the door to Stella's room and her eyes rose to meet his and offered him a forced smile.
"They're keeping you for the night." Mac informed her.
Stella nodded, "I figured."
Mac sat down in the chair and pulled it over to the side of the bed and sat with them in silence for a few moments. He couldn't stop looking at Synnöve and seeing the girl he used to give piggyback rides to. The eight year old missing tooth smile, big blue eyes staring up at him while she cuddled with the kitten she had coerced Stella into getting. He had never been more grateful that Synnöve was in school at LaGuardia all the way across town, that she had been out that night, that she hadn't been with Stella when Frankie had come unglued.
"Go home with Mac." Stella squeezed Synnöve's hand.
"Mitera." She protested in a soft whisper. His girls were a pair and he knew it was going to take the jaws of life to pry Synnöve from Stella's side.
"I am fine, Nani." Stella reassured her, pulling out her old nickname, "Go with Mac. You need sleep and I'll see you when you get home from classes tomorrow."
"Stella..."
"Synnöve." Stella warned and cocked her eyebrow. Mac fought back a chuckle as he watched them 'argue' momentarily. Staring at Stella in that hospital bed, he envisioned her as a young girl; spiral golden brown locks all down her back, big green eyes soaking up every sacred word Professor Papakota imparted to her.
Mac always thought of his girls when a case affected him, over the past few years it had gotten worse. He saw Stella and Synnöve in every female victim, in every woman on TV that starved herself for affection, in every hardened female New Yorker that had to fend off a man that couldn't take 'no' for an answer.
"Love you, Mitera." Synnöve kissed Stella's cheek and stood. Mac squeezed Stella's hand affectionately and stood as well.
"Ready to go?"
"Yeah." Synnöve gave a small smile and didn't flinch when Mac draped his arm around her shoulder. As they walked down the dimly lit corridor of the hospital, she spoke, "Can we get Chinese?"
"Sure." Mac nodded.
She grinned up at him, "And cookies?"
"Why not?" Mac sighed, knowing that she wanted sugar cookies coated in blue sprinkles.
Synnöve's grin grew, "Will you eat them with me?"
"Maybe." Mac chuckled and rolled his eyes.
Her lower lip slipped out and those sparkly ocean eyes stared up at him, "Please."
"Alright." He laughed.
When he looked at Synnöve he saw that eight year old girl, giggling as she stood covered head to toe in flour and throwing sugar at him. He saw the hurt thirteen year old girl clinging to Stella's side as they cuffed her foster father. He saw the fifteen year old girl that played her guitar until her fingers bled because it was the only thing that made it all better. He saw the sixteen year old that was fiercely protective of her Mitera. In Synnöve, he saw Stella.