Will wearily stepped from his dressing room and into his office.
The only thought running through his head was that he was tired. His chair called to him like a siren but he knew if he sat he'd just fall asleep and he didn't want that.
He wanted to go home.
He padded his jeans for his keys and sighed deeply when they weren't there. He hadn't left the studio since Monday and had no idea where he dropped them. He began pawing through the detritus on his desk, moving the same pile 3 times before he mentally slapped himself to look somewhere else.
He had not been this tired in a long time. Not even September 11th was he this tired. That day, a decade ago, he had been in the chair all day and into the next morning but by Wednesday Ed had made his way into the studio by bicycle and Dan had rented a car and driven in from Chicago in time for Wednesday evening. Will was off the hook and able to step away from the desk and get some rest.
That hadn't been the case this week.
This moment, searching for his keys was the first moment he was allowed to be "off" since Monday afternoon. Even when he wasn't behind the desk he was left coordinating and approving broadcast decisions and offering advice and support in Charlie's absence.
Charlie and Linda had gone up to Boston to cheer on Sophie as she and her friends crossed the finish line. Luckily she had finished and the Skinner family was enjoying a meal in the North End when the bombs went off. Charlie had stayed in Boston to work with the local correspondents, leaving Will to assist with operations in New York. If there was one thing that was more draining than reporting bad news it was managing a studio full of people making the decisions on how to report the bad news.
Will cursed Charlie under his breath, not for the first time that week.
His reasoning had sounded perfectly sound when he had called Monday evening with a gruff "I'm staying here. You know what to do." At the time Will was just relieved to hear his voice and know that he was okay and hadn't been at the finish line. Had Will been in a more professional state of mind he might have argued; though he doubted he would have been able to change the older man's mind. Will knew Charlie took the attack personally and staying close to the action was his method of coping with how close his wife and daughter had come to being victims.
After the initial shock of Monday, it was almost fun to work with Charlie as one of their go to guys on the ground in Boston as the details of the event were broken down and suspects were revealed. Will had never seen the reporter side of Charlie and found himself growing new respect for his mentor as the week unfolded.
The enjoyment was really a minor bonus in a strained week as the hours passed and by the time it was Thursday evening Will had reached what he thought was the end of his physical capacity. He was about to give up and go home when the report came that the wanted men had stolen a car and the likes of a Hollywood blockbuster was unfolding in the streets of Boston complete with chase and shootout in a residential neighborhood.
Then Friday. Never before had nothing been so newsworthy. Absolutely nothing was happening except for one of the most notable cities in America was completely shut down. Hour after hour they showed footage of a major metropolitan hub turned into a ghost town. From 200 miles away the fear was palpable and fed the adrenaline of the exhausted staff in New York.
Finally, now, 10 o'clock at night it was over. The little punk-ass punk had been found, shot and arrested and Elliot was on the air, doing fine wrapping up and Will was free to to go home and get some real sleep for the first time in 5 days.
Except he wasn't because he couldn't find his keys. Why couldn't he be one of those people who keeps a spare key under his doormat? Then this wouldn't be a problem and he could put off the great key hunt until he was, you know, conscious.
He hung his head, closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Damn, he could almost fall asleep standing right there.
He jerked his head up and glared at the sweater he had tossed on the chair sometime earlier. He picked it up and felt it's softness in his hands before giving in to what he had been trying to avoid.
He tossed the sweater on the floor between his desk and the window and gingerly lowered himself down, placing his head on the makeshift pillow. Yep, this was a good plan. Sleep wouldn't be far away now and he could just forget everything...
"Will? Will, where are you? Oh..."
Will cracked an eye open to see Mackenzie looking down at him with a sympathetic smile on her face, "Billy..."
He closed his eye again, "Hrm?"
"What are you doing?" Her voice was low and seemingly torn between amused and concerned.
"Sleeping." He answered.
He could practically feel her rolling her eyes at him.
"Billy..." This time her voice was closer and he opened his eyes again to see her kneeling next to him. "It's over. Why don't you go home?" Her hand landed on his arm and her eyes were wide and earnest.
He shrugged as best he could from his position on the floor, "I can't find my keys. Even if I could chances are I would fall asleep in the cab before I got home so I'm taking a nap before trying again."
Judging by the growth of her smile she was definitely more amused than concerned, "You can't find your apartment keys so your sleeping on the floor in your office?"
He nodded, "You don't need to make it sound crazy."
She held up her hands mock defensively, "Oh I'm not. It's totally rationale for a grown man to sleep on the floor in his office."
Will opened his mouth for a witty retort but to his dismay his brain refused to engage; there was nothing he could think to say. Instead he said the only thing he was thinking at the moment. "You look tired too."
Mac rolled her eyes and smiled softly at him, "I am. We all are. It's been an exhausting week."
She was right, he thought. His thoughts flicked back over the week and although the rest of the staff had shifted in and out over the days he could not think of a single time when she hadn't been there. She had been right by his side or in his ear the whole week.
"Have you slept at all?" He couldn't help himself from musing out loud.
She shrugged, "Like you I've caught a few hours here and there at my desk. Unlike you I was planning on going home tonight and trying for a real bed."
His brow furrowed, "We went off the air 30 minutes ago. Why are you still here?"
She looked down at her hands, "I was waiting to make sure you left."
His eyebrows arched, "Sorry."
She smiled at him again, their eyes meeting and holding for too long before she broke the stillness, "Don't be. You're right, take a nap and I'll wake you in a little bit and make sure you don't fall asleep in the cab."
"And what will you be doing?" He smiled to himself, proud that his brain was still working enough to identify the hole in Mackenzie's plan.
She looked to the ceiling and shook her head slightly, "I don't know Billy. Maybe I'll find your keys for you."
He narrowed his eyes at her, "You're just as tired as I am, you won't find them. You should get some sleep."
She smirked down at him, "You know, I thought of that but I don't have a sweater so it's either I look for your keys or I go on a pillow hunt. I think the keys will be easier."
Will stared at her for a long time, the wheels in his head turning slowly, before he summoned the mental strength to beat down his inner voices and smiled. "I've got a better idea."
Before Mac had the chance to speak he had upset her balance and pulled her down so she was laying partially on top of him. He could feel every muscle in her body go taught. He whispered, "There was a time when you thought I was a pretty good pillow Kenz."
Her felt her squeeze him gently, "Billy..." she whispered.
"Shhh... just get some rest." He dropped a gentle kiss on the top of her head and closed his eyes and relaxed back into his sweater pillow. He felt Mackenzie slowly relax and then readjust herself to a more comfortable position which was achingly familiar for the both of them. His last conscious action was to wrap his arm protectively over her.