I'm Not Alright
Notes: Tag to "All Access".
Her fingers grazed the wound on her face as she remembered.
Entering her apartment to find that she was not alone and that somehow Frankie had gotten inside.
Staring at him as he continued to set the table, as if she hadn't broken up with him and it was the most normal thing in the world.
Realising that she was in danger and that her life could very well be at stake.
Realising Frankie was not the man she had thought he was.
She had of course discovered that when she'd come across the website he'd put together, but even then she hadn't believed him to be a threat to be overly concerned about. She hadn't feared him then but rather despised him.
That had changed when he turned on her.
She recalled struggling with him and the rapid beat of her heart as it tried to escape her chest. She remembered blood, too. Lots of blood.
She remembered pain, stabbing and cruel, twisting like acid through her veins.
She relived her escape from her bathtub and from Frankie's grasp, until he caught up to her again and wrestled her onto the floor so that she lost grip on her one hope: her gun.
She remembered desperation and adrenaline and three loud, final shots before Frankie fell to her bedroom floor with a 'thud', his eyes still wide in disbelief.
Her next memory was of a hand caressing her face much like she was doing now, and then of Mac's face swimming into focus.
She shivered slightly when Mac walked up to her, breaking her from her thoughts and offering her a soft smile.
"You okay?" he asked.
She thought about lying and almost did, but this was Mac and he'd always been there for her. He cared about her. At the very least, she should tell him the truth. He deserved that much.
She shook her head and swallowed back tears as he took her hand in his. "No," she admitted. "I'm not alright. But I will be."