Author's note: This story begins in (but diverges from) Season 1, Episode 10. All characters belong to Aaron Sorkin and HBO.
Will's eyes were closed. Standard-issue hospital bed sheets were tucked up to his chin and he could hear Mackenzie rustling around the room. It was late and she'd refused to go home, insisting he needed someone to be his advocate in the hospital. He'd reminded her he wasn't comatose - he had a bleeding ulcer - but she'd been undeterred.
After Jim left they'd spent a quiet evening chatting about the show, carefully avoiding the subject of Brian's article and Will's wanting to resign. Talking about either of those subjects would only end in a screaming match.
He had to concede (if only to himself) he was glad she was there.
He opened his eyes in the dim light and saw her curled up in the vinyl chair next to his bed. She looked tired and worn out, and not very comfortable, but she sat there stoically, ready to spring into action in case he needed anything. Her shoulders looked tense, like they always did when she was worried, and he knew she'd probably have a backache in the morning. He couldn't help but feel ashamed that he'd caused her so much worry and not for the first time he wished the battle lines between them weren't quite so well-drawn.
He closed his eyes again and drifted off to sleep. He awakened a half hour later but kept his eyes closed; he'd rather not know for sure if she'd decided to leave. He'd migrated to the side of the bed closest to her chair, pressed against the bed rail, and wondered if he'd done that instinctively in his sleep. A moment later he heard her get up and come round the other side of the bed.
'Will, are you awake?' she said softly.
He didn't answer. He didn't know why he wanted her to think he was still asleep; perhaps it was only to hear what she had to say.
'I can't do this any more, Billy,' she said quietly, her voice breaking.
His body tensed but it was nearly dark so she couldn't see it. Then he felt her climb into the bed beside him. He tensed even more when he felt her arms wrap around his waist. She buried her face in his back and exhaled a soft sigh. God, it felt good to be so close to her again. Then his primitive brain kicked in, the one that sought to protect him at all costs, and he wondered what the hell this was about.
He turned to face her, his proximity to the bed rail making it difficult to maneuver without getting closer to her. He could hear her breathing in the dark.
'Mac,' he said harshly. 'What are you doing?'
'I'm breaking down walls, Billy.'
'Don't I get a say in this?'
'No.'
'Don't you think I should?'
'Obviously not.'
At least he hadn't yelled at her. Taking that as a good sign she decided to push her luck and burrow into his chest. He smelled so good, so warm, so Will. He could smell her hair just under his chin. It filled his nostrils, the scent of lavender and spring rain. It took every ounce of willpower he had not to bury his face in it.
'And what do you hope to accomplish?'
'Being close to you.'
'Why?'
'Don't pretend to be stupid, Will. It doesn't suit you.'
'Why, MacKenzie? Why do you want to be close to me?'
'Why do you think?'
'I think you'd better get back in that chair,' he said, a little more harshly than he intended.
He felt her wince, then pull back a little. She was silent but she didn't attempt to move. Then he heard her voice against his chest.
'No.'
'What?'
'I said no. I'm not getting back into that fucking chair.'
'I don't think you have a choice, Mac.'
'You're the one who doesn't have a choice, Will. I'm tired of this bullshit and I'm not moving.'
'Tired of what bullshit? And, oh yeah, you are moving – even if I have to fucking call security to get you out.'
'Go ahead.'
He reached over her, searching for the call button. As he did, his fingers grazed her back and she clung to him more tightly.
'Mac, what are you doing?' he groaned.
'Aren't you tired of this, Will?'
'Tired of you digging your nails into my back? Yes.'
She dug harder, pulling him closer. She felt his breath hot against the top of her head.
'Tired of fucking around.'
'You're the one who's fucking around. Now get back into that goddamned chair or get out,' he roared, suddenly furious. She was not going to do this to him.
She held firm, determined to break through.
'No!' she shouted, praying the nurses wouldn't rush in to see what the fuck was going on.
She looked up at him and maybe it was just wishful thinking but in the dim light she thought she saw something besides anger in his eyes. She thought she saw love, fear, maybe even a little hope. She had to take a chance. She wasn't fucking around anymore. She was done with this bullshit. Done.
She brought her hands up and ran her fingers through his hair. He flinched but didn't draw back. She could feel his heart hammering against his chest and heard his breath quicken. Then he grabbed her shoulders and pushed her away, breathing heavily. He stared fiercely into her eyes. What the fuck is she trying to prove?
'Get. Out. Now.' he hissed.
She launched herself at him, grabbing his head and pressing her lips firmly against his. He didn't respond but it didn't matter. She knew he loved her and she'd be damned if she was going to waste another fucking minute pretending he didn't. Pretending she didn't. Her tongue parted the seam of his lips and she felt him inhale sharply, take a deep breath and then his hands were in her hair, his tongue in her mouth and he was moaning her name. 'Mac, oh God, Mac.' She tasted so good, just like he remembered. He flipped her on her back and then he was the aggressor, raining kisses down her neck as she moaned his name. 'Billy, oh God, Billy, I love you so much. So much,' she breathed.
Suddenly he was right there with her and by God, he was going to finish this. He lifted his head, stared deeply into her eyes and reached down to lift her skirt. She moaned and forced her lips against his to suck his tongue as he hooked one finger in the elastic of her panties and yanked them roughly down her legs. He forced his knee between her thighs and she frantically tugged his pajama bottoms down and brought her hands up to caress his ass. Then she pulled him down and felt him hard against her. His eyes never left her face as he reared back, then plunged into her brutally.
He rode her hard and long, short brutal strokes interspersed with longer ones, rotating his hips and flicking her clit until she thought she would literally die from pleasure. Her legs were around his ass as she urged him on, clinging to him as if her very life depended on it. In some ways it did. Then she came, screaming into his shoulder as his own orgasm barreled through him and he forced himself into her as deeply as he could. As he came the anger of the last five years dissipated and he sobbed against her shoulder, completely broken. She clung to him, kissing his eyes, nose and lips as he shuddered against her.
Then all he felt was exposed and he hated it, hated her for dragging this into the sunlight. Where could he go? Where could he hide? How could he survive if she hurt him again?
'I hate you,' he breathed, sending shock waves through her system. 'I. Hate. You.' he said again and she burst into tears. She tried to roll away from him but he pinned her down, staring into her eyes.
'You wanted this? You got it,' he said cruelly.
Then he bent down, pressed his lips against hers and forced his tongue in her mouth. His head felt like it was about to explode. All he felt was rage. Rage against her, for betraying him all those years ago, rage against himself for allowing her to hold the key to his happiness. He'd been twelve years old the day he'd sworn he would never let it happen again, never let anyone wield so much power over him they could steal his happiness with a blow or unkind word. It was the day his father had given him a black eye and hurled insults at him, swearing that Will would never amount to anything. And now here she was, this woman he loved with his whole heart, making him prove to her that he was powerless against her.
She looked into his eyes and was terrified at what she saw. Where was the love she'd seen earlier? Then his head cleared. He saw fear and anguish when he looked into her eyes.
'Oh Mac,' he said, crying. 'I'm sorry. I don't hate you. God, I could never – hate you. I love you – so much – I don't know what the fuck is wrong with me.'
He collapsed on top of her and she held him, her heart breaking with every racking sob that escaped his lips.