Title: Beauty & The Beast
Chapter 1 – Happily Never After?
Summary: After a tragic accident that he blames himself for, Mac Taylor curses himself to spend the rest of his life alone & unloved; living as a recluse in his rundown estate. Can Stella Bonasera remove that for him? Is she his second chance at love?
Disclaimer: You know it all by now right? I own nothing except any OC's (Dr. Adams, John Sullivan, etc). Any resemblance … …
A/N: Okay so let me say right from the start white this is AU this is NOT a Disney-ish fairytale. Hence no cartoons, to spells, no real curses, no singing (gah), half wolf men or the like. This is an adult version (modern day and angstier) that is based loosely on the concept of the Beauty and the Beast storyline (someone cursed for love but having to make a sacrifice to find it again; living as a recluse until given a second chance at love and life). But it will follow some of the character placements from the story and hope you can recognize them. And no no singing in this story but lots of angst, fluff, peril and of course a happy ending! :D
So 'Alice' and I have been working on this idea for the past several months (ask my very patient co-hort to whom this story is dedicated as we literally had the same idea around the same time a few months ago lol eeks!) but I had to finish a few stories first. Am going to admit that I am kinda nervous with this theme b/c it is very different for me but still am hoping you all enjoy what 'Alice' has come up with.
So I am going to take a deep breath and let you all get to reading.
~Dedicated to Phantom of the Mental Ward~
"Claire I do not want to spend the rest of the night arguing about this!"
"Of course you don't Mac this is how you always choose to deal with things, you put them off. Why? Because you don't like confrontations."
"I just don't see the need Claire," Mac sighs in exasperation, tempers continuing to flare between the normally happily married couple.
"Do you ever see the need Mac? Do you ever see my needs?"
"That isn't fair and you know it," Mac retorts.
Silence starts to build as both of them stand a few feet apart, arms folded in front but neither one of them backing down or wanting to give in.
"You're not going to yield on this are you?"
"I don't see why I should? This is also my decision and I don't feel the need to give in this time."
"This time? You make it sound like you give in all the time," Claire drew out her last few words for emphasis. "When was the last time you yielded Mac?"
"I always yield!"
"I mean willingly."
"Damn it," Mac curses under his breath as he turns his head in frustration. "I hate that we are at odds like this; this is my future also!"
"You know I don't want children and I know you talked to my doctor."
"It's not what you think Claire."
"That's a lie Mac and you know it!"
"I…fine. I was wrong, is that what you want to hear? I…was…wrong," Mac throws up his hands in exasperation. "I know having a family is important to me but I was just hoping you would want one after all this time, it has been five years. Am I wrong for wanting a family?"
"You told him to switch my…" Claire snaps angrily.
"I did not!"
"And don't get me started on your last business deal Mac."
"I did it for us, so you wouldn't have to work again."
"Without asking me! That is selfish and you know it!"
"Look, our tempers are flaring and we are both going to say things we don't mean!"
"Fine," Claire grumbles as she turns to leave.
"Where are you going?"
"For some fresh air and a change of scenery."
"Fine…go," Mac sighs as he turns around and takes a deep breath.
But when he turns back she is gone, leaving him standing alone in their large, richly furnished living room in their vast upstate New York mansion; an estate situated in a small but growing city. Mac utters one more curse before he slowly heads toward the kitchen, situated near the back of the house. He gazes out a large picture window to the left and sees Claire heading for the garage and panic starts to consume him.
"Claire, don't drive when you are angry," Mac mutters as he heads for the back door and pulls it open; only to hear the garage door opening. He hurries toward the large multi-bay structure, hearing the rough grumble of a car starting up and quickens his pace.
He reaches the entrance just as Claire's vintage Mercedes C-class bolts forward, the engine sounding rough thanks to the ill-fated repairs he was attempting to make.
"No Claire! Stop!" He tries to get her to pull over. "It's not FIXED!" Mac shouts as he races after the car. But all he's greeted with are a few bursts of red taillights in the cool night air before the car disappears around the tall rose hedge and is gone. Mac quickly pulls his cell phone and tries to call his wife.
"The car isn't…"
"I'm driving!" Claire snaps before she hangs up.
"Fixed properly. The engine could stall any minute," his words die out, hanging in the cool night air, taunting his miserable state.
"Then I'll call a cab!"
Mac just shakes his head before he heads back inside, the vastness of the large house now starting to consume the lone occupant with silent loneliness. Mac heads for their well stocked liquor cabinet and pulls it open, taking out the expensive bottle of scotch, pulling the cork top and reaching for the nearest glass. He pours a generous amount before lightly slamming the durable glass container down on the nearby marble countertop and then storming back into the living room.
"Damn it Claire," Mac grows as he takes a hearty gulp. "I just wanted you not to have to work any more. I just…just wanted the family we talked about…that I thought you wanted also," he laments as he finally tears his gaze away from a framed wedding picture and casts his gaze through the open picture window to his right.
His ears pick up the faint sound of raindrops hitting the window as he takes another swig of his whiskey. They had started to argue more and more as of late; Claire not wanting children and Mac desperately wanting a family of his own.
'I am just not ready Mac and since it's my body and I would be the one doing the bulk of the raising I have the biggest say.'
Mac knew he wasn't about to do something stupid like hide her birth control or force her to want to have children, but it was growing into more of a source of contention than he wanted to admit. His visit with her doctor was actually just to talk about some funding money he was donating and she mistook his intentions.
Mac takes another swig of the strong whiskey, his head now starting to feel the ill-effects, especially since they had skipped dinner, another argument before they sat down, ensured that their well made meal went cold and then eventually into the garbage disposal.
A bolt of lighting is seen and a crash of thunder is heard through the rain distorted glass, forcing Mac to jump slightly and the area of the large mansion he was in to slightly tremble from the heavenly bout of power. Mac takes another swig, finally starting to feel very dizzy and knowing that he should stop. But he consumes the last swig before he angrily slams the glass down on a nearby counter and then pulls out his phone and dials Claire's number.
"I need time to think Mac!" Claire fairly shouts over the small microphone.
"Then come back and do it, the weather is hell!"
"Stop always trying to tell me what to do!" She bellows back and Mac immediately backs down.
"I'm not…I'm just concerned."
"I'll be back later."
"Fine!" He sighs in resignation as he slams the phone back down on the table beside the empty cup of whisky. Another crack of loud thunder causes him to slightly jump and already being tipsy from the alcohol loses his footing and stumbles toward the hardwood floor, crashing onto his knees and uttering an angry curse.
Mac rests on his knees as the power flickers, his head spinning and his fists tightly curled. The one thing he always lamented was the fact that his father died before he could give him a Taylor heir; someone to carry on the family name and bring joy to the large space and his parents as well. But he fears that the more he pushes Claire, the more she'll push back; perhaps even pushing back so far that she leaves his life for good. Mac was a man of family values and tradition; he would work to save his marriage even at personal emotional sacrifice to himself and his future happiness.
Mac squints at the clock, his eyes slightly watery from a cough and knows he just needs to get some rest, it was late and Claire probably would be somewhere to think and at least ride out nature's fury. But when he stands up he does it too fast and adding to the fact that he swung himself around just as he stood up, causes his head to spin and pound violently and his vision to blur; his footing unstable.
"Ahhh…" Mac calls out before he folds back down, hitting the side of his head on the small marble table on the way down and ending in an unconscious heap. The next time he would awaken, his life would be forever altered.
XXXXXXXX
"Mr. Taylor?"
"Uhh…" Mac's eyes start to flutter; his lips offering a soft groan as he feels finger's poking his side and then touching his forehead, examining the bump he sustained from the fall; his body now resting on its back.
"Mr. Taylor can you hear me?" The male voice calls once more.
Mac's eyes finally open all the way and he focuses his watery vision on a strange face, looking down at him with a heavy frown before looking a foot to the strangers left and seeing another stranger looking down at him.
"Who are…wh…what the hell…happened?" He stammers as he allows the medics too slowly help him sit up. He looks around and notices two police officers and his business partner Danny Messer all looking at him in concern.
"Mac what happened to you?"
"I uh…tripped," Mac confesses in truth.
"Where you drinking Mr. Taylor?" One of the police officers asks.
"I…where's Claire?"
"Mr. Taylor where you drinking?" The officer insists.
"Yes!" Mac snaps back. "Now where the hell is my wife?"
"Sir we need to ask…"
"Danny where is Claire?" Mac demands as he pushes the medic away and tries to stand up. He slightly falters and is immediately grabbed by the medics before he can fall back down. "Get off me," he huffs as he jerks himself free. "Danny where the hell is Claire? Why won't anyone answer me?"
Danny looks at the officer who gives him a warning shake and then turns back to Mac with an expression that was pleading for forgiveness.
"Mr. Taylor there has been an accident."
"Claire?" Mac asks in haste.
"Can you come and sit down over here."
"Just…"
"Mr. Taylor, please come and sit down," the officer insists with some frustration.
"Fine," Mac puts up his hands in mock surrender before he slowly heads for the plush couch and slumps down into it, cursing his pounding head and burning stomach. "Where is Claire?" He asks calmly.
"Mr. Taylor your wife was killed tonight."
"I...what? I uh…oh god…no…" Mac stammers as his eyes widen and his breathing shallows. "That's not possible. This is a joke right? She sent you here to do this to me? Let me call her."
"I'm sorry Sir, this is no joke, your wife was killed tonight."
Mac looks at Danny and then back at the officers; the grave expressions telling the whole story, Claire was gone.
"When did you see her last?"
"I…I called her and…we argued tonight and…oh god no…please god no," Mac laments as he feels his stomach starting to lurch. "How…I need to see…what happened?" He rattles in a panic.
"Can you confirm that she owns a yellow Mercedes C-class sports coupe?"
"Yes…did she crash?"
"We found the car, seems the engine died and she had to walk. It was dark and the oncoming driver was half asleep. He says she stepped out into the road to flag him down but…well he didn't stop until it was too late."
"No," Mac utters, his eyes watering and his fists tight; his stomach about to throw up. He shakes his head, pushing himself up quickly and heading for his phone. "No god…this is not possible…not…"
"Mac!" Danny says his name, his ear drums pounding so loudly, threatening to burst at any moment. He shakes his head, telling himself this is all a dream and Claire is okay. But just before he reaches the table where the phone was, the whiskey decides to come back up, causing him to double over and throw up the golden poison onto the polished hardwood flooring.
He feels the medics helping him over to a large Queen Anne sitting chair while the two officers start to inspect his phone, seeing the last time he called which was shortly before the car died and Claire was forced out in the terrible storm.
"What did you argue about Mr. Taylor?" The first officer continues his firm interrogation.
"Children. It's what we always fought about…the only thing," he laments as he hangs his head, letting them rest in his hands which were now supported by his elbows resting on his knees. "This can't be."
"Mr. Taylor, we are sorry," the second officer tells him in a firm but kinder tone.
"I need to see her," Mac states, his head still hanging in his hands.
"That might not be…"
"I need to see her."
"I can bring him," Danny offers quietly.
Mac leans back in his chair, numbly looking at the activity before him but telling himself this was just an elaborate nightmare and that very soon he would wake up and everything would be okay again.
"I don't care."
"Pardon?" The first officer looks at Mac in question.
"About children; I don't care what about that. I just want my wife back."
The two officers exchange sorrowful glances before they give him each a nod and then continue with their notes. Since the car Claire was driving wasn't the cause of her death, Mac wasn't a suspect in any way. The man that had been driving the truck and fallen asleep at the wheel, coming to just as Claire stepped into view, had not only confessed but had stayed with her until the medics arrived, giving his statement and offering in remorse for his now fatal actions. He would only be charged with second degree homicide but it would be found that to live with the guilt of taking an innocent life would be hell enough; as it would turn out his life in the long run would be forfeit by his own doing.
While they were waiting, Lindsay had made Mac some strong, black coffee, his brand new baby god-daughter Lucy sleeping contentedly in her travelling chair in the large sitting room away from the adults.
"Thanks," Mac mutters as Lindsay refills his travel mug with a second generous helping; he and Danny now ready to head to the hospital to identify Claire and sign the leftover paperwork.
"I can't believe this," Mac laments as he sits in the passenger seat of Danny's luxury SUV. "Danny this is not possible."
"Mac, I'm so sorry."
"I should have…damn I just should have given in," Mac grunts as he closes his eyes in torment. "Sorry for bringing you all out this late."
"Don't worry about it Mac," Danny tries to assure his friend and business partner. "Lindsay is going to call your mother and Jessica," Danny concludes, referring to Jessica Angell, half sister to Claire Conrad Taylor.
"The car…I told her not to drive. It's my fault. Damn it Danny it's my fault!" Mac growls as he hits the side of the SUV with an angry fist. "Sorry."
"Mac this wasn't your fault. The guy confessed."
"The car. I was trying to fix it. The engine…they said it died. If it hadn't…Danny she was out there…on that road because of me."
"You couldn't have known that Mac."
"I told her…told her not to take it…it's my fault…my fault she's dead," Mac's voice trails as he tries to swallow back a painful lump. They reach the hospital and are greeted by Dr. Ben Adams, Mac's longtime friend and personal physician.
"Mac, I uh…I don't think you should see her like this."
"I have to Ben," Mac insists. "I have to have closure…have to see for myself," he concludes with fresh tears dotting his eyes.
"Mr. Taylor?" A rather gruff voice calls out to him from behind. Mac turns to see a larger middle age man heading toward him with a serious expression. "Detective John Sullivan," Sully introduces himself. "I just need a few things after you are done."
"Sure," Mac numbly nods and then turns back to Dr. Adams. "Please Ben. I need to see her. I need to beg her forgiveness."
Dr. Adams looks at Mac and knows that in his condition, arguing further or even offering to administer a mild emotional sedative was out of the question; Mac was right, he did need closure and this, although extremely painful was the only way to get it accomplished.
"Very well," the older man gently pats Mac on the shoulder before leading him away from the rest of the group, Danny slowly following at a discreet distance. They head into a small private ER examining room and Mac instantly feels his stomach tighten and his knees weaken.
"Mac!" Danny exclaims as both he and Dr. Adams take an arm, keeping Mac upright before he collapses.
"No…oh god no…Claire…no," Mac laments as he pushes them away and heads for her still body. The evidence of the accident was still on her bloody frame but Mac didn't care, pushing himself onto her and trying not gather her broken remains into his grasp.
"Claire!" Mac laments, warm salty tears escaping the corners of his tightly squeezed eyes. "Please Claire…I'm sorry…please come back…forgive me…please forgive me," he begs in anguish, rocking her body, trying to get some life back into it before, Dr. Adams gently pries Claire from his grasp and Danny pulls him back.
"She's…this...it's not real," Mac lightly sobs. "She…she can't be gone."
"Mac I'm so sorry," Dr. Adams sighs in remorse as he gently wipes some of Claire's blood off his cheek.
"Why?"
"Mac…"
"I did this…I killed her," Mac huffs, angrily wiping the tears away from his eyes. "I killed her!" He bellows at Dr. Adams in anger, glaring at him with watery sapphire slits.
"You are not responsible for this Mac," Dr. Adams tries to explain.
"I KILLED HER!" Mac shouts, immediately bringing Detective John Sullivan into the room.
"What is going on in here?"
"She's…gone," Mac whimpers as he looks back at Claire. "Claire…oh god you have to forgive me. Please forgive me!" He begs in desperation.
"He just needs another moment."
"I should have given in. If I had given in she would have stayed. She'd be at home right now," Mac continues to persecute himself, his watery gaze fixed on Claire's still frame. "I'm so sorry Claire…damn I'm sorry…I'm sorry I did this…I…Claire I'm sorry. I'm to blame."
"The guy confessed Mr. Taylor," Sully tries to explain.
"He knows," Dr. Adams nods in agreement. "But this is guilt he might never get over."
"Never," Mac looks at Dr. Adams in misery. "I did this and…and I deserve to end up…"
"Mac you need to just take a deep breath before you make further rash statements," Dr. Adams tries to calm his friend.
"I did this Ben, I'm to blame…ME!" Mac shouts before he turns and rushes out of the room, Danny in tow. Sully finishes up with Dr. Adams while Danny hurries after Mac, firmly tugging at his arm and trying to drag him back in the direction of his waiting SUV.
"Let go damn it!" Mac shouts as he pulls his arm free and glares at Danny in anger. "Can't you see? Tonight was my fault. Claire is dead because of me! I was selfish and wanted a family and she didn't. If I truly loved her I should have given in! I caused this."
Danny looks at Mac but says nothing, knowing his friend just needs to let out all his raw emotion before he collapses; that would be next. He could have argued back saying that if Claire truly loved Mac she too would have given in but neither would have been right.
"Mac you couldn't have known what would happen tonight," Danny tries to argue back.
"I should have. I should have given in…should have given in," Mac takes a breath; his angry rant slowing a little, his body also starting to slow down; his adrenaline almost spent.
"Come on Mac, let's go home," Danny suggests softly.
Mac's arms drop to his sides, his body devoid of fighting emotion and so he merely allows Danny to lead him back to the SUV, get him inside, fasten his seatbelt and then head back home. Once there Danny leads back to his large bedroom and watches as Mac fairly passes out on the King sized bed, Lindsay removing his jacket and Danny covering him with a warm blanket before they both head out into the hallway.
Lindsay had already put their new born daughter, Lucy down for her sleep in the makeshift bed and suggested to Danny they stay in one of the fair sized guest bedrooms down the hall in case Mac needed something. Danny agrees and so after leaving Mac's door open they head for the room adjacent to Lucy's and try to get some rest. However, much like Mac in his own bed, tossing and turning all night long, neither of them got much in the way of rest and morning sadly, came all too soon.
As suspected, throughout the night Mac's sleep was fitful and undisturbed, not getting more than about twenty minutes of rest at a time.
"My fault Claire," he kept muttering over and over as his eyes would fix on her side of the bed and never look away, only closing them when it became painful to leave them open. His mind would replay over and over their last heated argument, harsh words spoken before she left and he never saw her alive again. He would, he told himself, forever blame himself for what happened, cursing himself to be alone and unloved for the rest of his life; as he said he deserved. Finally, despite it still being dark, he pushes himself out of bed and wanders aimlessly through the quiet halls of his large home until he lands in the kitchen, needing a Tylenol desperately.
Mac looks at a picture of him and Claire and immediately his anger courses through his veins; his fist smashing into the glass and sending it shattering tot he floor.
Oh god what have I done…Claire what have I done? Mac laments as he squeezes his eyes shut, his stomach cramping from the lack of anything of substance in it, his core warm and his head still pounding. He finally takes his leave and heads out of the kitchen. But not wanting to spend another night alone in his large master bedroom, Mac ops for one of the smaller spare bedrooms, slumps back down onto the modest single bed and passes out until the morning.
The next day was an emotional blur as his large estate soon become a bee-hive of activity; Detective John Sullivan came back for his final statement. Dr. Adams sent over the official death certificate. Millie had arrived in the early morning and had taken over funeral preparations for her son. Danny started to field calls from Mac's top clients until Mac was ready to get back to business; Lindsay took some time off from her teaching job at the local high school school to help Millie; Lucy mostly sleeping in her crib not knowing anything was going on.
Claire's half sister Jessica Angell arrives a day later, going straight to Mac for answers.
"I told her not to go out that night!" Mac argues back.
"Why the hell were you two arguing like that in the first place?" Jessica counters, not backing down.
"I…I don't kn…it was stupid but between us."
"Claire is gone Mac, anything personal is no longer. How could you let her get in that car?"
"She got in before it was too late and I tried to stop her! I did! I even called her to come back…I begged…"
"Not hard enough," Jessica huffs before she turns away; both of them at their breaking point.
"I know I'm to blame," Mac admits weakly. "I know I caused this and yes I have cursed myself every second since. Is that what you want to hear?"
Jessica looks at him in misery. "I just want her back," she whispers before she leaves the room and breaks down in private.
"McCanna?" Millie's tender voice draws her sons tormented gaze to her. She heads toward him, pulling him into her arms and just holding on tightly. "I'm so sorry McCanna," she whispers once more.
"I did this mother, I killed Claire."
"No son, you didn't. You are not to blame."
"Yes I am and now I deserve to be alone and unloved until I die."
"McCanna don't say such drastic things," Millie lightly scolds her son, taking his flushed face in her hands and offering him a small frown. "Your father would have wanted…"
"Me to have a family. I wanted that and I drove the woman I loved to her death because I was selfish. I…I just want to be alone."
"For how long?"
"Forever."
Millie realizes it's pointless to argue with her son and so places one more kiss on his warm cheek and leaves him in the sitting room, heading back into the kitchen to join the others. The funeral arrangements were already done and Mac just found himself numbly existing each day until that event.
The day of the funeral he didn't eat anything, hardly drank and had to let Danny pick out his black suit, his brain useless in making even the most simplest of suggestions. The limo picked him, his mother, Jessica and the Messer's up at his estate, heading for the large funeral home that would soon lay to rest Claire Conrad Taylor.
Mac's eyes remain fixed on the dark cherry wood casket while the man at the front continues his speech. When asked to come up to say a few words, Mac politely declines, knowing that as soon as he would stand up he would just collapse right back down; instead handing the man a piece of paper to read that brought everyone in the room to tears.
After the service, his large mansion was once again filled with family, friends, co-workers of his and Claire's, well-wishers and business partners. Even his top rival business partner, Frankie Mala came to offer his condolences at Mac's tragic loss. However, Frankie was very happy for the decline in Mac's mental health, telling himself that if the successful land developer was to be missing in action for much longer, he could swoop in and take his very affluent clients; more money for himself and his own rival business.
Danny tells Mac to take a week off to just relax and try to come to terms with everything, Millie telling her son not to be in a hurry to sell his vast estate and that he would take as much time as needed but in time would find love again and be happy. Even if it would take a few years, she knew he could be himself again.
'It's what Claire would want.'
She had told him; words he would never come to believe at the start. Millie stayed with Mac for the week, making his meals and ensuring that he would at least put something in to his stomach other than air and whiskey. Jessica stayed for a few days, but her relationship with Mac was now strained as part of her did blame Mac for her half-sister's death; their conversations heated. The other part of her felt sorry for her now ex brother in law, but not enough to move from Chicago to be near and help out; despite her job as a nurse was always in demand and she could easily find work close by. Millie had pondered moving closer to Mac now that he was alone, telling him she would want to take up residence in his large empty home. He told her he wanted to be alone and she would give in.
Soon the friends went their ways, business people back to work and family back to their own lives; Mac was now totally alone on his large property; an estate he had so proudly built and wanted to populate with a family to love and care for. Mac called Danny at work and told him that he would be taking some time off and to explain to his customers and partners that he would soon be back. But soon never came; at least not for many years.
But life didn't hold the same zest it once did for Mac and soon those few days turned into weeks; weeks morphed into months and months finally changed into years. The large estate became unkempt and overgrown, weeds, thorns, despair had taken hold; an outer reflection of the inner occupant. Mac himself had just allowed time, regret and guilt to slowly chip away at him until he could hardly look at himself in the mirror anymore. He moved from his once well dressed Master bedroom into one of the smaller guest rooms, but wouldn't see anyone, except on the occasions that Danny and his family would visit or his mother would come to try to encourage him.
Mac would simply shoo them away, telling them he deserved to live life secluded; that was his sentence for what he did. His business dealings started to fall through, Danny only able to keep up with half; the rest were greedily snapped up by his rival Frankie Mala. His estate holdings remained secure as Mac didn't spend money on anything anymore, himself or his family included. His future was in fear of being destroyed by his own doing. At least that is what he thought.
~5 YEARS LATER~
"McCanna please, you have to get on with your life; Claire wouldn't want you just sitting here wasting away," Millie pleads one very dark and grey Friday evening before she headed to the airport. She had finally reached her breaking point was now confronting Mac, concerned for the very life of her beloved son.
"She didn't want a family," Mac utters simply, his face haggard, rough and slightly dirty. Lindsay had come by on an almost weekly basis with Lucy, who was now five years old and did some light housekeeping in the rooms that Mac would inhabit. She left the food in the fridge and was pleased when she'd notice that at least some of it was eaten.
Danny's best friend, Don Flack, moved down from Manhattan, taking the position of Detective, opposite John Sullivan; a man who Lindsay had been telling all about to Jessica Angell. Jessica would come to visit and her and Don hit it off and she was considering moving to the area. That was when Millie wrote her to come and at least stay with her in the large mansion, trying to get Mac back to his old, vibrant ways. Jessica at first was reluctant because of her strained relationship with Mac when they parted but after talking to Millie was finally persuaded to come, Don Flack of course sweetening the deal.
"Millie?" Jessica's voice is heard calling out over the din of the small local airport.
"Jessica, sorry, I'm here," Millie rushes up to her and gives her a hug.
"Your call was urgent, what is it?"
"My dear friend Pauline is not well," Millie frowns. "I have to go back to Chicago to visit her and help her get things ready before she passes."
"I can't stay here," Jessica insists.
"He's in a bad way Jessica," Millie sighs as she looks at her with a teary gaze. "He literally is wasting away."
"He won't listen to me," Jessica replies softly. "And it might just make it worse if he were to see me with Don now and…"
"How are things going with you two?"
"Well we have only been seeing each other a few months but I uh…well I was able to get my job transfer. Now that Dr. Adams was promoted to Head of the hospital, Dr. Hawkes has an opening for me in the ER; I just found out last night. So I can start my nursing at the hospital on Monday. Millie I love Don and want to be with him."
"I'm so happy to hear that. Lindsay told me that a new science teacher Stella Bonasera is starting at the school on Monday as well. Will be nice to have some new life in this area. Please Jessica, stay here with us. It just might give Mac some kind of comfort to know he's not alone in the house when I'm gone."
"Millie we parted on bad terms. He cursed himself and I said he deserved it," Jessica confesses with a sad glance. "I might do more harm than good."
"You know Claire wouldn't want him to waste away like this, not because of her," Millie pleads. "I don't know what else to do and Danny and Lindsay have tried everything. I'm just afraid that I'll come here one day and find my boy…dead. Jessica I can't lose him."
Jessica's fingers curl around Millie's and give them a squeeze. "I don't hate Mac. I was angry and resentful but…but you're right," she admits with a small huff. "I'm sorry too."
"Please Jessica, just go and talk to him. It's been five years. The house is almost devoid of life; his business is certainly going to fail; Danny needs help and me…I'm worried sick."
"The only one that can forgive him is himself," Jessica utters softly. "He has to want to get back to his life."
"I know. But he has to see that none of us blame him and you are a big part of that being Claire's half sister. Please Jessica it would mean so much."
Jessica looks at the older woman before her and gives her a firm nod before offering her a hug. "I'll go and see him as soon as we get there."
"Okay. I have to make my flight arrangements. I don't know how long I'll be there as she's near death but if you need me for anything…"
"I'll be okay," Jessica assures her as she pushes herself upright. "Let's go see Mac."
XXXXXXXX
In the meantime, just outside the boundaries of the overgrown estate, a middle aged woman quickly walks toward the outskirts of the small but growing city, having to abandon her dead car and go the rest of the way on foot. It was dark and the skies were threatening to rain.
"Oh damn it," she curses to herself, quickly pushing back a stray golden curl behind her ear. She hears the distinct call of coyotes in the distance and starts to pick up the pace. "Hurry Stella," she mutters to herself as the rain starts to slowly pelt her from the angry skies above.
She reaches a thick arched entrance to the estate she's walking beside when suddenly her heart jumps. A bright bolt of lightening as well as a loud crack of thunder rips apart the sky overhead, warning her to seek shelter and fast. "Why didn't I just stay home as I was told tonight," she grumbles as she picks up the pace, nearly running past the arched entrance way, heading for the faint lights of town. "What was I thinking?"
Stella nears the second thorned archway when she hears another coyote 'howl' and fears she doesn't have much time before the hungry scavengers catch up with her. Already having torn open a small slice of skin on her arm, she prays the smell of blood won't draw them to her until she's sought shelter.
She looks up just as a light turns on in the large darkened home not to far away and she falsely reasons that she'll find help inside the empty tomb. She pushes her way through the thicket and rushes toward the opening, the coyote calls getting louder.
Stella reaches the front door, pounding on it in haste. But much to her surprise, the heavy wooden door slowly creaks open and she wastes no time in getting inside, out of the now driving rain.
"Hello?" Stella calls out softly, quickly brushing the rain off her coat and pushing now damp curls out of her face. She hears a door open upstairs and then close and then it was quiet.
"Hello?" Stella tries again as she takes a deep breath and heads toward the large staircase. There were only a few lights on in the space around her and the shadows seemed to grow longer the closer she got. Some of the furniture was covered with white sheets, the large fireplace was cold and only a few pictures of a small girl with honey curls sat on a nearby table. She offers the small girl a smile before taking her first few steps upward, another crack of thunder causing her to shudder once more.
"Hello, is anyone up here?" Stella calls out once more as she nears the top of the staircase. She sees the light in the distance and carefully makes her way toward the room. "I just need help. Please I just need some help." But just before she nears it, a figure appears in the darkened hallway, forcing her to utter a small gasp and stop.
"Sorry…you scared me. I didn't hear you. I need help."
In the past five years Mac has had minimal contact with outside strangers; telling himself that he didn't want to be seen by the outside world, a foreign smile would always remind him of what he lost. People outside of family tried to come and visit, all sympathizing but adding their own confidence that it wasn't his fault and he shouldn't blame himself in anyway. Soon he told his family he didn't want to see strangers, that he was to blame and that was it. But as the years passed by, most stayed away, not wanting to come near his often foul disposition; most wanting to stay far away. Soon most didn't care.
Until tonight.
The soft, pleading voice had instantly pulled him from his dark bed chamber, an inner force driving him to make a surprising appearance; a sighting that wouldn't be the last. However, when the beauty appeared before him he was taken aback and was angry, mostly at himself for his grisly appearance. But she didn't recoil in fact she stood her ground; forcing him to take note and fast. The green eyes mesmerized him instantly and for a few seconds he forgot that pain existed and was held captive by her; that is until a bright crack of lighting jolted the beast back to reality.
"Who the hell are you?" Mac's angry voice demands.
"I just need to use a phone," Stella answers softly. "I didn't mean to disturb you but…"
"WHO ARE YOU?"
"I just moved here. My car broke down and…"
"Are you alone?"
"Yes. I just need..."
Mac makes another move toward her, coming a bit more into the light. Stella catches a glint of deep blue in the eyes that are studying her intently and then finally sees the outline of his face. Dark chocolate hair, firm jaw and slight build; if he was cleaned up she was sure he could be handsome. But his tone was sharp and angry and his posture tense and on the defensive; a beastly personality is what he seemed to possess.
"Leave."
"I need help."
"I don't care!"
"Please…I know who…"
"You don't know me! Now get out!"
"No I didn't mean…"
"GET OUT!" Mac's angry voice booms at the same time another loud clap of thunder is heard.
"No!" Stella argues back, standing her ground, forcing Mac to step back a bit. "I need a phone!"
"I don't have one. Now get out before I call the police!"
"With what you said you didn't have a phone?" Stella counters quickly.
"I…ah damn it," Mac finishes with a soft curse, slightly unnerved by the beautiful headstrong woman confronting him.
"Are you okay?" Stella dares to ask, her tone firm but still holding a tender note. "You seem…sad."
"I'm...I'm fine."
"Okay good. Now I just need…"
"I…look just leave."
"One simple…"
"GO!"
"Fine!" Stella shakes her head, more frustrated now than angry. She turns to leave, reaching the staircase but stopping, a feeling inside holding her in place a bit longer. But as she turns back, the man is gone; his figure removed from the hallway, back into the room where the light was, the door now closed; the man once again locked away from the rest of the world.
Go after her! His brain yells from inside the darkened chamber. You never turn away a person in need. She's a woman and alone and its dark outside. Are you really a beast?
"No…no I'm not. Ah damn it! Miss?" Mac curses as he heads back out of his room. But to no avail – she was gone. "I'm sorry," Mac whispers as the darkness starts to envelope him. "I'm so sorry…"
Stella hurries back down the stairs and out of the house, slamming the large door behind her and uttering one more curse, this one in her native Greek before she heads back out into the night. Thankfully the coyotes had left, probably scared by the last loud thunderclap; allowing her to get back to the main road into town unhindered. She turns back to the large, dark house and frowns.
"Who on earth was that? I just needed a phone! Well I'm sure I never see him again," she utters fatefully before she turns and rushes toward town, a story to tell her waiting family.
A/N: Well? Should I come out from behind the couch and continue? Or just go back to hiding! *holds breath* :D
If you want more you'll learn how Stella came to be where she is and about her past five years and why she's now in this small city, who else came with her and of course her second meeting with Mac (one of many hehe). Think it will go better? And how do you think they'll meet the second time? Would love to know your thoughts on this one so, please let me know in a review and thanks again! I would ask that if you don't like it, please don't flame, just be mature enough to leave and thank you for reading.