These wounds won't seem to heal, this pain is just too real; there's just too much that time cannot erase.

Flack held his breath, his gun pressed to the side of his head. Still he couldn't seem to get himself to pull the trigger; to splatter his brain matter all over the kitchen for his colleagues to have to clean up. Suddenly, a violent blow to his forearm knocked the weapon from his grasp. Spinning around and blinking to clear the tears from his vision, Flack was surprised to see Mac Taylor, granite faced and angry, standing behind him. Stella stood a few feet behind.

"Just what the hell are you playing at, Don?" Mac asked, his voice icy.

Stella wasn't quite so composed, and though she tried to hide it, Flack could see the tremble to her chin.

"I can't do this anymore, Mac. It's too hard. I let her die. If I'd have been there, I could've-"

"You could've been killed too," Stella interrupted angrily.

"Now you're just going to do it here, alone? Do you really think this is what Jessica would've wanted?" Mac asked, and Flack looked away.

"You don't understand, Mac." Flack lashed out angrily, his features contorted with agony.

"I understand better than you think," Mac bit out, staring at the sodden picture of Jessica on the table.

Realization dawned in Flack's eyes. How could he have said that when Mac had lost his own wife in the attack on the Twin Towers? His voice quivered.

"Mac, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I didn't mean that at all. It's just, Jess is gone and-"

"And you've got to let her go," Mac said, pulling up a chair and sitting face to face with his friend.

Flack looked away, ashamed and embarrassed.

"You can't hang on, you can't change the past. What's done, is done. Jessica wouldn't want this. She'd want you out there, saving other people from bastards like those that killed her. That's what she'd want. Do you think killing yourself would solve it, bring her back?"

Stella was beside him now, squatting, hand on his arm.

"Flack, we need you here. The whole team needs you. We're here for you, if you ever need to talk, you can come to any of us," she said, and Mac nodded in agreement.

Flack looked up at his boss. "How did you know what I was going to do, Mac? I didn't even know until a few minutes ago."

Mac looked at him, his face still stony.

"My team is my responsibility. If I notice someone acting off, it's my job to make sure they're okay. You weren't okay today, Don. So Stella and I came to check on you."

Flack grinned, the first real smile he'd had since Jessica died.

"You don't miss a damn thing do you, Mac?" He asked, and Mac shook his head.

"Don't give me too much credit, Don. Stella was the one who clued me in. She watches just as much as I do, if not more."

Flack turned to look at Stella, who had tears in her eyes. "We love you, Don, and we hate to see you hurt like this alone. We are here for you. We're a team, you know?" She asked, and reached out, wrapping Flack into her warm embrace. Mac watched, breathing a sigh of relief that his friend was going to be okay.