Note: This took a while. Oopsies! Please read and review PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE.


The ground in the alley seemed to be alive. Thick strands of shadow undulated and slithered across the pavement, through the dirt, and up the walls, cutting through the grime and the filth.

In the dark, she could hear cars, but very, very far away. Too far to help her, she knew, but she tried to call out anyway, tried to open her mouth and scream. She wanted to make known the presence of whatever was stalking her in the dark, but she couldn't. She opened her mouth and flies poured out, buzzing angrily before disappearing before her eyes. Horrified, she wrapped her arms around herself, sank to the warm, living concrete, and scuttled backwards until her bare back ground against the wall, bricks pressing into flesh and drawing blood. She was naked, and that's what was attracting the thing she couldn't see. She couldn't run.

She couldn't do anything to stop it, could do nothing to delay it, could not halt the worst intrusion of all.

They spread her naked, bruised legs open until it hurt. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, trying to distance herself. She felt insects crawling over her skin, felt them, the men, inside of her.

Ripping, raping, leaving. Leaving her gutted and hollow, dead in an alley, her throat slit, blood on her lips like paint, a puddle of it surrounding her, staining her breasts, arms, legs, her entire body. Her eyes were open and some of the flies came back to land on her exposed corneas, drinking the moisture they found there.

No amount of prayer could stop it.

Mandy awoke in the dark, her skin slick with sweat, hair matted to her forehead and down her back, clothing sticking to her, her own sweat the adhesive. She clutched the sheets in both of her fists, heart hammering in her chest as her eyes searched the darkness before her, disoriented, finding nothing familiar. She felt tears pricking her eyes and then run down her face and a half-choked sob followed soon after as she closed her eyes and struggled to erase the imagery, trying to blot out the past. Unsuccessful, an animalistic cry of anguish and tragedy resounded from her dry throat, tearing past her lips into the still air of the bedroom.

This will never end, she thought in the far-recessed part of her mind still capable of rational thought. She could feel herself slipping into a dark, dry place where she was incapable of thought, where all she could do was babble and stutter, no longer a person, just existing and frothing at the mouth.

Jack was startled awake by a loud sob coming from down the hall. His brain, still soaked in sleep, was confused and disoriented. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he waited in the stillness of the night and looked at the clock. The clock told him that it was only four hours since he carried Mandy to her room and collapsed, exhausted and still sort of drunk, in his own bed. Outside, the sky was still completely dark, with hours to go until the first rays of dawn would pierce the sky. In the darkness of his room, he waited. After a few minutes, he figured the sound he heard was a manifestation of his sleeping mind that unintentionally woke him up. He settled himself back down underneath the sheets and closed his eyes, feeling himself slipping back into slumber. Moments later, an anguished, piercing cry ripped through the stillness of the apartment and his eyes flew open in an instant. In another instant, he had pulled his Sig Sauer P229 pistol from the holster he had taped under his nightstand, cocked the hammer, and bolted from his room down the hall to Mandy's, where he could hear her cries coming from. He put his shoulder into the door and it crashed open, the doorknob sinking into to wall from the forces of his entry. His pistol was up, his eyes scanning the room, clearing it, before turning to Mandy.

She looked like absolute shit. Her skin was a sickly pale color and a sheen of sweat glistened on it. Her hair stuck in damp strings to her forehead and down her back. Her mascara from the previous day was running down her face, two dirty black tracks, like smears of coal, marking the path her tears took. When the door banged open, she had issued a sharp, loud shriek and fell immediately silent, curled up in her bed, shaking, with tears still running down her face, her arms folded protectively and tightly over her breasts. She whimpered quietly, her eyes squeezed tightly shut and her teeth chewing on her bottom lip so hard that she was starting to draw blood. He de-cocked the hammer of his pistol numbly and let it fall out of his hands to land with a soft thump on the carpet. He was shocked and swallowed the painful lump in his throat before speaking.

"Mandy?" his questioning voice was just above a whisper. Her eyes opened and she blew out a shuddery breath, her relief plainly written on her face.

"Jack…" she managed to croak before her face crumpled and quiet sobs gently shook her body. Jack knelt beside the bed and snaked an arm under her back, lifting her into a sitting position. He sat next to her on the bed, his hand running up and down her back, fingers brushing soothingly against her through the sweat soaked fabric of her shirt. She sat with her head in her hands and cried as Jack continued to try and comfort her, still confused as to what happened and feeling increasingly awkward. He was just about to ask her what was wrong when she spoke up.

"I had a nightmare. I…I dreamt that I was back in the alley. In Boston, when they…you know," she said quietly after her tears and sobs subsided. She sniffled and wiped her nose. Jack's hand froze on her back, halting its awkward path as the severity of her explanation hit him. He thought about the dreams he had after Teri died. The situation was different, of course; her death, while emotionally scarring, wasn't physically harmful or traumatizing to him. He could only imagine what it felt like to relive being raped. Will me touching her upset her even further? Jack wondered. As if in reply, Mandy leaned toward him until her back was pressing against him and he turned to allow her back to rest on his chest while maneuvering his left leg onto the other side of her. She now sat with her back against his chest, arms wrapped tightly around her slightly shaking frame, between his legs. Her head was just below his chin and her hair was still damp with sweat. Hesitantly and not really knowing what else to do, what boundaries there were, he crossed his own arms over hers and held her, fingers resting on her cool, shivering skin. He rested his chin on her shoulder and she sighed softly, muscles relaxing as the tension partially left them. Jack didn't trust himself to speak, so he didn't; he just sat there, feeling her against him and listening to her breathing.

He wasn't deluding himself any longer, not with her this close: she stirred something within him, something that had lain dormant for longer than he cared to remember. She had awoken his senses and sharpened his perceptions and, though he hadn't known her long, he knew that the situation with her, how he felt around her, how she reacted around him, was worth pursuing. The only thing stopping him was his own uncertainty of her feelings, coupled of course with the fact that he was a bit out of practice with this sort of thing.

They sat there for a few moments, his arms around her until she pushed them gently away to wipe at her face. Mandy's eyes opened wearily now and she took in her current condition.

"I'm disgusting," she stated flatly, "I'm going to take a shower." And she started to walk away into the bathroom but Jack stood up quickly and grabbed her wrist, halting her. She turned back to look at him, chewing on her bottom lip. He could find no words suitable for the situation, so he looked at her, obviously lost, silently asking her what he could do. He gestured emptily with his free hand. She smiled a bit at his clueless appearance and his slight frustration with himself, manifesting in a furrowed brow and a frown creasing his mouth downwards. She slid her hand up into his and gripped it tightly, squeezing it and feeling its warmth leech into her own clammy skin.

"Can you make some tea or something?" her voice was quiet and steady. Tea...tea…yeah, ok, I can do that, Jack thought to himself.

"Yeah, no problem," voice barely above a whisper, he smiled shyly at her and squeezed her hand back before letting her slender fingers slide from his grasp.

He moved immediately from the bedroom down the hall to the kitchen as the water in the shower started running. The doors of his cabinets opened and closed, with Bauer removing a kettle he didn't know he owned, two coffee mugs, and some tea bags. With water sloshing in the kettle like gasoline in a can, he set it on the stove and turned the burner on. He laid out the mugs, with tea bags waiting in them, on the kitchen table and then stood in front of the stove, eyes staring unfocused at the tea kettle. The water started boiling, whistling, just as he heard the water shut off. He turned off the burner and poured the steaming water into the two mugs and waited.

She padded into the kitchen barefoot minutes later, wet hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. She sat down and began to drink her tea, both hands wrapped tightly around the mug as if to draw the heat into her bones to work its way through her whole body, loosing muscle and soothing bone until everything else in the world just melted away. Jack sat across from her, drinking from his own mug, enjoying the vicious heat spreading down his throat and through his stomach like a contagion poisoning his system, shutting everything down with scalding warmth. She regarded him with a silent, measured gaze, watching his movements and taking in his posture, the subtle cues that his body subconsciously betrayed to her. It'd be better with him…I know it'd be easier, she thought to herself, again chewing on her bottom lip, worrying it between her teeth and she thought on how to best speak next. He watched her, paying as close attention to her as she was to him. Finally, she just decided on the direct route.

"I know I asked earlier, but…stay with me. Please…I would just like someone there. I just want to be reassured that no matter what happens when I'm asleep, there's someone right next to me," voice steady and eyes leveled, she looked at him, her breath caught in her chest.

His own breath had halted in his chest as he considered what she was saying. As far as Jack could tell, she was comfortable with his physical presence in relation to hers and as for himself, well, Bauer definitely didn't flee every time their skin met, didn't draw back any time she reached out to him. But with his understanding of the feelings she awoke in him, he was concerned about the situation being awkward or uncomfortable, worried that he would be moved to try something that wasn't yet prudent. Ultimately, he decided that the benefit of sleeping in the same bed as Mandy, so close to her, far outweighed any drawbacks.

"Ok..." his mouth turned up into a smile, his eyes softening considerably, "I'll stay with you tonight." She seemed pleased with this, stifling a grin and nodding succinctly, clearly happy that she wouldn't be alone. Briefly, Jack wondered if he should maybe throw on another layer of clothing. He was in a pair of boxer shorts and a loose t-shirt, and thought that maybe that was too little.

He cleared away their now empty mugs and switched off the kitchen light, gesturing for Mandy to exit before him. As she passed, she reached for his outstretched hand and laced her fingers between his tightly, pulling him behind her, leading him back to her bedroom. Tonight, he supposed, our bedroom. When they reached the door, he pulled his hand from hers and continued to head towards his own room, set on putting on a pair of sweatpants or something, but her voice halted him.

"You said 'yes' and the bedroom is right here," she chastised, leaning out of the door to smirk at him. He took this to mean she was ok with his level of dress and followed her into the room. Jack crossed the room and slid the window open as far as it would go, a cool breeze blowing through the room as he slipped under the sheets, lying on his back. Out of sight, he heard the slide of fabric on skin and turned his head to see Mandy sliding one of his old t-shirts that she must have found in the drawers over her head. It hung like a short dress on her, stopping midway down her thighs. She turned off the lights in the room and made her way over to the bed. She paused and slipped her jeans off, now dressed only in his t-shirt and panties that were just covered up by the white cotton. It shocked him to see her so obviously comfortable with his presence and she slid in next to him. He stared at the ceiling, hands tucked under the pillow beneath his head, and focused on the mattress shifting underneath the slight weight of the woman next to him. For some reason, the simple presence of her warm body inches away from him sent a tingle down his spine and through his limbs and he had to suppress a huge grin that threatened to break out and cleave his head in two. Then he felt her move closer and lay her head on his arm and he stopped breathing.

Mandy slid closer and closer until she could rest her head on his arm and place her right hand on his chest. It was a small gesture, but one usually reserved for intimate situations, however Jack quickly got over that and found that it suited him just find. He unfurled his left arm from underneath the pillow and wrapped it protectively around her shoulders. She looked up at him from beneath heavy lids and he had to crane his neck to see her better.

"Goodnight, Mr. Bauer. Thanks for staying, I really appreciate this," softly spoken before she yawned. He smiled down at her.

"No problem, Miss Stapleton," and seemingly of its own volition his hand began to rub small, light circles and patterns on her back. She shifted so her head was up higher and more on his shoulder, her breath blowing warmly across his neck and her eye lashes tickling his cheek He slide his hand down further until it rested on the small of her back and resumed tracing invisible patterns there, rubbing slowly across her spine. She made a noise deep in her throat that said that she approved of what he was doing and that he shoulder stop. Her left hand traveled and snaked across his abdomen, pulling him tight against her and her body moved beneath the sheets so that it was pressed tightly against his side, not an inch between them.

Why not, she thought to herself, deciding to press her luck, before sliding her right leg up over his left one, to rest entwined like that. Much better, and she turned her head to press a quick, chaste kiss on his cheek before mumbling another "thank you" and relaxing her body.

Jack's breath was let out in a heavy rush as also relaxed and his heart beat loudly in his chest.

He could almost hear the heart of the woman next to him, feel it's beat beneath her breasts.

He fell asleep to the sound of her breathing.