Night had always been the hardest part of the day for Stella

Night had always been the hardest part of the day for Stella. When she was younger, she would have nightmares about her parents, or about her foster home. Almost every night, she would wake up in a cold sweat, visions of losing the little she had still dancing in front of her eyes. As she got older, some of the visions changed, but Stella could never remember the last time she had slept through the entire night. Grisly crime scenes, grieving family members, friends she had lost along the way and those that she had come so close to losing...they all mingled in her mind when she closed her eyes, forcing her to live and re-live some of the most difficult moments of her life.

And lately...it had gotten worse. She couldn't even rest her eyes for more than a few seconds before the nightmares came screaming at her. She wasn't sleeping at all anymore, afraid of the things that haunted her. Night after night, they weighed upon her, until she didn't even try to lay down. She just sat in front of her window, staring out at a city that couldn't seem to care less about the demons she carried.

Flack watched her from a distance, worry gnawing at him. He could see the circles under eyes, and the way her shoulders slumped whenever she thought no one was looking. And he was sure that he wasn't the only one who noticed - Mac watched her more carefully as well, and Danny kept more of his smart-ass comments to himself. Everyone seemed to tread lightly around her, not wanting to upset the delicate balance - if that was what it could be called - that she had going on.

But now, as he stood in the doorway to her office, he didn't think he could just walk away. Resting her elbows on her desk, Stella had her face in her hands, her shoulders hunched in defeat. He watched as she seemed to nod off, but almost immediately she shook herself awake again. The process repeated itself a few more times before Flack slipped into the room, shutting the door behind him quietly.

He moved over to her slowly, unsure of what he was going to say or do. He just wanted her to know that she wasn't alone, that she didn't have to carry whatever was weighing her down - at least not on her own. When he reached her side, he leaned over and rested a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Stell?"

She almost flew out of her chair, startling both of them. For a minute she stared at him in surprise, as though she wasn't entirely sure of where she was or who she was looking at. But as her breathing leveled out again, her brain calmed down as well, and she was able to gather her wits about her.

"You scared me," she said quietly.

"I can see that. What's goin' on, Stell?"

"Nothing. I'm just...I'm a little tired, that's all."

"It's more than that," he said firmly, sitting on the edge of her desk. "And it's been goin' on for awhile."

She glanced up at him, but didn't quite meet his eyes. "I'm fine."

"Bullshit."

Stella frowned, giving him a hard glare. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"You know what, Flack? I have some work to get done. So if you don't mind..."

"I do, actually. I'm sick of sittin' here and watchin' you suffer, Stella."

"Then stop watching."

Her voice was cold, and Flack's eyes narrowed. Stella wasn't usually one to be hurtful, and he knew that she had to be near the end of her rope to be using her words as weapons.

"You need to talk to someone," he said quietly.

"No," she disagreed. "What I need is for you to leave me alone so that I can get back to work."

She stood up then, picking up some files from her desk and moving towards the door. As her hand reached for the knob, however, his voice stopped her cold.

"How long have you been havin' nightmares?"

Turning slowly, Stella tried to calm the hammering of her heart. There was no way he could know - she hadn't told a soul about her sleepless nights. But before she could even question him, Flack turned to look at her with sympathy in his eyes.

"We all get 'em, Stell, and I'm bettin' yours are worse than others. But you don't have to deal with it alone. We're your friends...your family. Let us help."

Stella couldn't explain the sudden tears that sprang to her eyes, but she did everything she could to hold them back.

"I'm fine," she lied again, and suddenly she realized how tired she was of doing that. "Get back to work, Flack."

Praying that her legs would hold firm, she turned and left the room, leaving Flack to stare after her, worry etched across his face.

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This time it was fire. It ripped through her apartment, her belongings - nothing was spared. But this time it didn't stop there. It moved through the rest of her life, consuming everything she had accomplished. The lab exploded, and the fire swept through it, taking Mac and Danny and Hawkes and Lindsay. Their screams echoed in her ears as they fell victim to the plague that shadowed her life. It went after the foster home where she had grown up, reducing her foster mother and her childhood friends to nothing more than ash and soot. The fire moved along a line, as though following the path of her life, taking everything that she had ever held dear.

Its last victim was Don. She saw him, struggling to take care of her, to protect her, from all the things that he couldn't see. Even when she thought she was walking alone, he was only a few steps behind, an arm reached out as though he was always ready to catch her. He never saw the fire coming - it came from behind, catching the edge of his pants before moving up his entire body, burning him with painful agony.

Stella shot up, her eyes wide and her breathing erratic. Looking around the room wildly, she realized that she had fallen asleep in her chair, the city bathed in darkness and little pinpricks of light before her. She wiped the sweat from her forehead, her hands shaking as she realized that it was just a dream. Tears sprang to her eyes, and this time she couldn't hold them back. As her face crumpled and she dropped her head into her hands, she realized that she couldn't do this anymore.

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The dream still haunted her, chasing her across the city. Remnants of it flashed through her head, whispering to her that there was nothing she could do, that no one could save her. But even as they dragged her down, Stella knew that she had no place left to go. If she didn't reach out to someone - right now - there wasn't going to be anything left of her to save.

She knocked on the door firmly, but it was taking every ounce of her to keep her body still. The muscles in her legs were coiled tight, begging her to let them go, to let them lead her away from her as fast as they could. But Stella just focused on the door in front of her, ignoring the pounding of her heart, and the ragged sound of her breathing in her ears.

When the door finally opened, Flack stood there, staring at her. He took in the way her arms were wrapped protectively around her body, and the wild but fearful look in her eyes. He saw her shaking hands and her trembling lip, and he knew that the decision for her to come to him had taken almost every ounce of willpower that she had.

Reaching out, he gently took her by the hand, drawing her into the apartment and into his arms.