A/N: Here's chapter 9. enjoy… review if you want, but no flames please. Also, please see the a/n after you read this.

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Chapter 9: Distanced

After 4 hours of sitting on the bench across the street from Stella's apartment, to say that they were worried would be an understatement. Even the normally unshakeable Hawkes was clearly rattled by her disappearance. At some point, Flack had left to grab food and coffee and came back in an under-cover police car. "It might come in handy to have the flashing lights," he explained to Hawkes, who could only agree.

"Where could she have gone? What could have happened? Who knows what she could have done in her state of mind!" He ranted for the 6th time in the last hour. Flack sighed and nodded again.

"I know, Sheldon. We're gonna find her. She'll come home eventually," Flack told him.

Just then, Flack's cell phone rang. Glancing at the ID, he frowned at a number he didn't know. Flipping it open, he answered.

"Flack."

"Is this Detective Don Flack, Jr.?" an unknown male voice at the other end asked.

"Yeah, it is. Who's this?"

"My name's Mitch Edwards, I'm a patrol cop assigned to the Bronx."

"Alright, Edwards, what can I do for you?"

The man on the other end hesitated. "By any chance are you… missing someone?"

Flack jolted upright, catching Hawkes' attention. "What? What is it?" Hawkes whispered urgently. Flack waved a hand at him, focused on the conversation.

"You could say that. Why?"

"I think I may have found her."

"Where? How? Is she still there?" Flack jumped up, grabbing the car keys out of his pocket and waving Hawkes to the car.

"She's walking. My partner's following with the cruiser." He paused. "And… she's in the Bronx."

"What the hell?! That's nearly a mile from the hospital!"

Edwards was alarmed. "Is she a danger? Do we need to take her into custody?"

"Nah, she's not dangerous. We think she's having a breakdown. Can you keep following her, and give me updates on where she is? We're on our way. And how did she look?"

Edwards sighed. "She looked… broken, man. Her eyes were glassy and she didn't know where she was. Turned down a ride, just walked away. Said she knew who she was and gave us yours and Mac Taylor's names. I called him, but his phone was off."

Flack swore violently. "Fuck! You didn't leave a message, did you?"

"Yeah, but I wasn't very specific. Couldn't be, since she never gave her name."

"What'd you tell him?" Flack demanded.

"Just that there was a woman here looking very disoriented who had given me his name as her boss and to give me a call back if I should hold her."

Flack exhaled. "Ok. We should be able to work with that. Thanks. I'll call you when we're closer so you can tell me where she is, ok?" Receiving confirmation, Flack hung up.

"What? What's going on?" Hawkes burst out.

Flack heaved a sigh, eyes on the road. "A patrol cop found her. In the Bronx. Said she was disoriented, but lucid enough to give him my name and to tell him that she worked under Mac. Who he called first. And left a voicemail."

"Shit!" Sheldon swore.

"Yeah, I know. We'll deal with that when it comes. In the mean time, call Linds, let her know that we've found Stella and are on our way to get her. Then we need to focus everything on Stel."

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The men called Edwards back about 30 minutes later, and got the name of the street she was currently walking down. He said he'd stay on her, and they remained on the phone until Hawkes and Flack pulled onto the street where she was. Finding a parking spot, they hurried to catch up with Edwards, who was waving them over.

"Good to meet you, Detective Flack," Edwards said, clipping his phone to his belt.

"Same to you. Where is she?"

Edwards pointed. When they looked, they could see the familiar curly hair. That was the only thing that resembled the Stella that Flack and Hawkes knew. Her head was down, her hands shoved into the pockets of her borrowed track pants. She was wandering aimlessly, not watching where she was going, and not really walking in a straight line. Flack looked back at Edwards. "We'll take it from here, man. Thanks." Edwards nodded, jogged over to the door of the cruiser that had just pulled up, and got in. They watched the patrol car pull away, then jogged closer to Stella.

"How should we play this? Do we both talk to her? Just one? What do we say?" Flack asked Hawkes quietly, eyes on Stella's unsteady figure. Hawkes shrugged. "I'm gonna go on instinct. Want me to try first?"

Flack nodded, and Hawkes quickly moved up until he was next to Stella. He stole a glance at her; she looked bad. Glassy, vacant eyes were set in slack face, body speaking to defeat. He put a hand on her shoulder when she didn't notice him. "Stella?" He said softly.

She looked up at him. "Hawkes." She said, so softly that he almost didn't hear her. His heart broke a little at the defeat in her voice. "Hawkes?" She said again, as if questioning his appearance.

"Stella. Are you ok?"

She didn't answer, and that was answer in itself. He stopped walking, the hand on her shoulder stopping her as well. She turned and looked at him, seeing Flack as well. Her eyes welled with tears. "Both of you? Why?"

Flack stepped up and took one of her hands. "Because we care, Stella. Come home now, ok?"

She nodded, tears rolling down her cheeks, and they led her over to their car.

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A/N2: One of my friends found me the way I describe Stella looking. Even now, 3 years later, she won't talk about it. I know now that I probably should have gotten help. Please do, if something like this happens to you or someone you love.