"He meant to kill me. I could feel it." She can't even describe to Peggy what it had been like, to have the full magnitude of Spector's nearly inhuman rage targeted at her. "I know how to defend myself. I'm not helpless. But he caught me off guard." She breathes out, shakily. "One of my officers got his arm broken trying to protect me."
When Peggy reaches up to touch her face, Stella doesn't flinch away; after a moment she catches her hand in hers, just lightly. Maybe to reassure Peggy, maybe to ground herself in the here and now instead of the recent past; she doesn't know. There's nothing Peggy can do, nothing that will fix this. Only time can do that. Stella's been knocked down before, and she's got back up every time, but this — this might take her a little longer than the rest.
"He's dead," Stella says, flatly, and underneath those two words she can feel the fury building, the grief and the hurt. She pulls in a deep breath. "He committed suicide the next night. Had another patient at the clinic he was in create a distraction so he could slip away and hang himself."
She's not sorry that Spector's dead, as such. When the anger subsides, she'll feel a certain relief that he's no longer alive, that he can't hurt anyone anymore. It's the injustice of all of it that hits her like a punch in the gut. Stella can feel her eyes starting to fill with tears and, fuck, she doesn't want to cry in front of Peggy, but she may not be able to stop herself.
"I can't tell you," she says, "how badly I wanted him in prison. How badly I wanted him to pay for hurting those women. Not just the women he killed — he kidnapped his ex-girlfriend and left her to die in the boot of her own car because she talked to us. I mean, for fuck's sake," her voice rises, breaks a little, "his wife tried to kill herself and their two children because she couldn't stand the thought of having them grow up knowing their daddy was a serial murderer."
They're raw, terrible details she doesn't really mean to spill, but the anger is breaking through the numbness now. Stella realizes suddenly her face is wet, that she'd started crying somewhere in the middle of all that — not weeping or sobbing, just tears falling as the buildup of emotion overwhelms her.
"Now there's no one to hold responsible." She breathes in once, twice, deep shuddering breaths, and wipes at her eyes. There's no one left to pay for Fiona Gallagher, for Alice Monroe, for Sarah Kay, for Annie and Joe Brawley, for Rose Stagg, for Sally Ann Spector, for little Olivia and Liam. Stella doesn't say I failed out loud, but she feels it underneath everything, and maybe that's the worst of all.
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When Peggy reaches up to touch her face, Stella doesn't flinch away; after a moment she catches her hand in hers, just lightly. Maybe to reassure Peggy, maybe to ground herself in the here and now instead of the recent past; she doesn't know. There's nothing Peggy can do, nothing that will fix this. Only time can do that. Stella's been knocked down before, and she's got back up every time, but this — this might take her a little longer than the rest.
"He's dead," Stella says, flatly, and underneath those two words she can feel the fury building, the grief and the hurt. She pulls in a deep breath. "He committed suicide the next night. Had another patient at the clinic he was in create a distraction so he could slip away and hang himself."
She's not sorry that Spector's dead, as such. When the anger subsides, she'll feel a certain relief that he's no longer alive, that he can't hurt anyone anymore. It's the injustice of all of it that hits her like a punch in the gut. Stella can feel her eyes starting to fill with tears and, fuck, she doesn't want to cry in front of Peggy, but she may not be able to stop herself.
"I can't tell you," she says, "how badly I wanted him in prison. How badly I wanted him to pay for hurting those women. Not just the women he killed — he kidnapped his ex-girlfriend and left her to die in the boot of her own car because she talked to us. I mean, for fuck's sake," her voice rises, breaks a little, "his wife tried to kill herself and their two children because she couldn't stand the thought of having them grow up knowing their daddy was a serial murderer."
They're raw, terrible details she doesn't really mean to spill, but the anger is breaking through the numbness now. Stella realizes suddenly her face is wet, that she'd started crying somewhere in the middle of all that — not weeping or sobbing, just tears falling as the buildup of emotion overwhelms her.
"Now there's no one to hold responsible." She breathes in once, twice, deep shuddering breaths, and wipes at her eyes. There's no one left to pay for Fiona Gallagher, for Alice Monroe, for Sarah Kay, for Annie and Joe Brawley, for Rose Stagg, for Sally Ann Spector, for little Olivia and Liam. Stella doesn't say I failed out loud, but she feels it underneath everything, and maybe that's the worst of all.