This story begins with a shocker, but... Look at the title and trust me... ;-)
Renaissance
Dead. Mac was dead. DEAD.
Will was staring at the wall in front of him, the hand that was holding his phone slowly gliding down from his ear until it hung limply alongside his body, and with a thud the device landed on the floor next to him. Not hearing the voice at the other end calling out his name he followed gravity when his knees gave out and fell to the ground.
Dead. MacKenzie was dead.
The woman he loved more than his own life. Dead...
The word repeated itself over and over in his mind and he couldn't focus on anything else. He was frozen in place, couldn't move, but finally, after a long time, Will broke down completely and wept bitterly for all he – they – had lost. His face buried in his hands he leaned forward so that they rested on the floor, and he was welcoming the sharp pain in his knees as if it would atone for his wrongs.
Time passed and Will was so consumed in his sorrow that he didn't hear the elevator doors of his apartment open, and he only startled when he felt a hand on his back. „Here, drink this."
„Charlie...? How...? What are you doing here?" His voice was raw from crying and he knew that his face had to be a mess, but he didn't care. Charlie was his friend, the only one who had stood by him over the last couple of years and had endured endless litanies about his unfaithful ex-girlfriend over what felt like dozens of gallons of bourbon since the day she had left.
Charlie gently placed his hand on Will's shoulder. „Jim Walton from CNN called and asked me to check on you."
Clearly confused Will frowned, but then his gaze wandered to his phone that was lying next to him and generated an annoying busy signal, only muffled by the fact that the Blackberry had landed face down. Quickly grabbing it he turned if off but then just stared down at it. „She's dead, Charlie... He said... MacKenzie is dead!"
„I know, son... Jim told me... I'm so sorry." Squeezing his shoulder Charlie handed him the glas again and this time he took it and gulped it down in one go.
„What do I do now?" His desperation became obvious with these quiet words, and he still could only stare at the floor in front of him.
„Well, first of all you've got to get off the floor or you won't be able to move anymore tomorrow. Come on, let me help you up."
Will was still kneeling and as soon as he obediently tried to move his legs, glad that Charlie had taken over and told him what to do, the by now dull pain intensified sharply, so that he couldn't prevent a groan from escaping his lips. „Fuck! Let me just..."
Carefully moving off his heels he lowered himself to the side and slowly stretched his legs. Once they were almost fully extended he let out a sigh of relief and shifted back to lean against the couch. Charlie sat down next to him, a second glass and the almost full bottle in his hand, and gave him a refill.
„I'm sorry, Will... I know it doesn't help right now, but we all know it's a dangerous place for journalists over there, though you always think it won't hit one of your own..." Charlie sighed and fell silent again, not knowing how to even begin trying to comfort his friend. He had always suspected that all the rants about MacKenzie he had been forced to endure hadn't mirrored Will's true feelings, but he sure as hell had never wanted to be proven right this way...
His eyes fixed on the glass Will didn't reply immediately, but then he whispered „She wasn't supposed to be there, Charlie... It's my fault that she is dead..."
„No, Will." Charlie objected firmly, although he sympathized. „It was her own decision to go out into the field, to go to there. And she was good at it, you know that. She fucking deserved those Peabody Awards she got."
„She wouldn't have been there if I hadn't thrown her out!" Will flared, but as quickly as that outburst happened he deflated again. „I told her to go away..."
„Which doesn't mean she had to go to the Middle East. She knew what risk she was taking, Will..."
Silence descended on them, both thinking about MacKenzie. Charlie hadn't known her that well, mostly from Will's late night ramblings, but he was fully aware of the reputation Mac had earned herself through hard work as a studio producer as well as a field reporter; he had seen enough of her coverage on TV. Also she and Will had done a damn good show during their time together at CNN, and not for nothing she was considered one of the best EPs in the business. He had always hoped to be able to hire her if they would ever get over their falling-out, but that ship had now sailed.
He was drawn from his thoughts when he heard Will talking to him with a shaky voice. „Charlie... What happened? I didn't hear anything after..." He motioned to the phone still lying next to him.
Sighing he tried to gather his thoughts. „I don't know much, it's apparently all still in quite some chaos over there. She had covered a political gathering near the Shah Faisal Mosque in Islamabad that turned into rioting when several opposing groups clashed. MacKenzie was in the middle of it and got shot. Her team got her out, but when they got to a hospital it was too late..."
Will didn't answer but slowly pulled up his legs and lowered is head to his knees. No sound could be heard, but his shaking shoulders told Charlie that he was crying again and he decided to just let him get it out, only placing his hand on his friend's back to show him that he wasn't alone.
Finally, after a long quarter of an hour, Will had calmed down a little and leaned against the couch again with his head fallen back, staring at the ceiling without seeing anything through his tear-filled eyes except Mac's beautiful face.
„Will?"
„Hmm...?"
„Let's get drunk."
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The following morning Will woke up on the couch and it took him a moment to remember what had happened, his head throbbing and his knees aching.
Charlie had stayed over after they had gotten thoroughly drunk, oh God, right. Why did they...?
But then he saw the picture of Mac he had retrieved from his bedroom after the first drinks, and everything came back to him.
MacKenzie... dead... Killed by political or religious fanatics because she had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. His MacKenzie...
Immediately all the pain he had felt yesterday was back and again struck him completely unprepared. Of course, he'd had days where he had almost been successful in convincing himself that he hated MacKenzie for what she did. Even if, he would still have cared, but as it was, deep down he had always been certain that someday they would be able to iron everything out and start over...
How could he have been so ignorant and arrogant to think that they would have a lifetime to do that?
Not only had every day without her been a lost day. No, he had known that she had gone to the Middle East, one of the most dangerous regions in the world right now. A powder keg, that could explode any minute. And still he had been unable to bring himself to reach out to her. To talk to her or at least write.
And now she had died without knowing that she still meant the world to him. That without her he was nothing more than a shadow of the man he had been with her at his side. A miserable human being on a ratings hunt, with the need to be loved by strangers. A shell with no emotions except self-hatred and despair, trying to cover his hurt, but also his love for her.
She had died without knowing that he still loved her. That he had never stopped... He would never forgive himself for that.
When he finally managed to move and sit up, groaning because his head felt as if it was about to explode, he noticed a handwritten note on the table in front of him.
Will, I have to go to the office, I will check in with you later. Take all the time you need, Elliot will fill in for you. Call me if there is anything you need. C.
After reading these words he sighed in relief. He hadn't even thought about the fact that it was a weekday and he was supposed to go work, but he knew for sure that he would not be able to report on this particular news.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
The following days Will spent mourning the loss of the the only woman he had ever loved, only interrupted by periods of disbelief and anger. Anger at himself for making Mac leave, anger at Mac for going to such a dangerous place and taking such risks, anger at life for screwing with him. During this time more than one breakable object disappeared from his shelves and cupboards never to be seen again in its orginal state.
He could still hear her voice in his ear, see the smile that would light up any room. He could still feel the touch of her hand, remembered the taste of her skin, and he would never ever forget the sound of her silvery laughter.
He was so glad that he had watched most of her reporting from the Middle East, not only because it had been good, sometimes even stunning, but because now the moment he had thrown her out of their apartment hadn't been the last time he had seen her face. And although this image of her, tear-stained, pleading and desperate was engraved in his mind, at least he had other memories from after, knowing that she had been doing alright after their separation.
Charlie continued to check on him reglarly during the day and dropped by at night. He had even sent his new assistent (Ellen?) by with groceries; as if he would be able to eat anything. Right now he was on an almost completely liquid diet.
On the third day the haze he was in started to lift for short periods of time, and he realized that he wasn't the only one who had lost McKenzie. Her parents and siblings had to be devasted and maybe he should... Yeah, he should really call them, even if they hadn't been in contact for the past two years, ever since he and Mac had split up.
After a last nerver he picked up his phone and dialed their London number, completely on edge and pacing up and down the living room. When the call was picked up on the other end he couldn't say anything at first, but then he forced himself to speak after hearing a questioning 'Hello?' for the second time.
„Mr. McHale... It's Will McAvoy..."
t his following words were a lot friendlier than Will had expected.
„William, how good of you to call... I assume you have heard...?" The older man sighed and didn't finish his sentence, while Will's stomach tensed up.
„Mr. McHale, I am so so sorry... I can't believe..." He noticed that his words were slightly slurred, so he let his voice trail off, but Mac's father had already picked up on it.
„William, did you drink?"
Busted. Will didn't immediately answer, but then he took a deep breath. „I've been trying to forget... I sent her away, Mr. McHale, it's my fault that she's..." He couldn't say the word to her father and paused mid-sentence. „I'm so sorry..."
For a long while neither one of them said anything, but then the older man sighed again. „Listen to me, William... I don't know what happened between you, MacKenzie never told us anything except that it was her fault that the two of you broke up, but it was her decision to go there... God knows her mother and I tried to convince her to come to London, get a job with the BBC, but she wouldn't hear of it. You are not responsible, William."
Will shook his head, although nobody could see him. „Yes I am... There is nothing anybody can say to convince me otherwise. But I didn't want to unload on you, I only called to tell you and your wife how sorry I am..."
„We appreciate that... I will let Claire know that you rang..." Again their was a moment of silence between them, before Edward continued. „Will... What happened between you?"
„I... It doesn't matter anymore, Mr. McHale, just know that it wasn't all your daughter's fault, I had my good share in it." Will did not intend to burden Mac's parents with what she did, but while speaking the words out loud he realized that it was true. It didn't matter anymore what she had done and he had played a huge role in how it had all enfolded. Just why oh why hadn't he seen that before?
„She loved you William, I hope you know that." The voice coming through the phone spoke softly now. „No matter what happened, she loved you and she has never stopped."
Will knew that her father was trying to make him feel better although he didn't deserve it, but he couldn't answer. He felt a lump in his throat and tears filled his eyes as he once again thought about what he had lost. What they had lost, because his obstinacy had let to the McHale's losing their daughter. He tried to speak several times before he finally managed to do so with a halting voice. „She was... is... the love of my life, Mr. McHale, there will never be anybody else. I only wish I had told her before..."
„I'm certain she knew... Listen, William, if you ever are in London, please come and see us. You know that we've always liked you, and if things had gone differently you would probably be part of our family by now."
Overwhelmed by this generosity Will didn't know what to reply. „I... I... Thank you Mr. McHale... If you don't mind I would like to come to... the funeral?"
„Of course. We will let you know once everything is set. We don't even know when..." Now even the so far composed diplomat's voice cracked for the first time. „We are still waiting for notification when they will release her body..."
Will closed his eyes and swallowed hard, trying everything to not let his tears spill as long as he was on the phone. „Thank you, I really appreciate it. If I can do anything... anything at all, please let me know."
„We will, Willam, thank you for calling."
Hearing the click in the line when Mac's father hung up Will followed suit and let the phone fall on the couch, suddenly in desperate need of fresh air. He walked out on the terrace to stand at the railing, and feeling like he was suffocating he breathed hard, trying to get as much air into his lungs as possible.
Turning his head his gaze fell on the street far, far below, and almost hypnotized he took a step closer to the balustrade. Nothing would be easier than taking one small step and climbing across this ridiculous barrier. A free fall of only a few seconds and the pain would be over...
He was honestly tempted, but after staring down at the long line of toy-sized cars for a long while he finally stepped back, almost hearing MacKenzie's voice in his head, whispering „Don't... Don't do it, Billy..."
And she was right; he didn't deserve an easy exit.
What he did deserve was the sorrow and hurt he felt deep inside, and if this was to be his punishment he would endure it for the rest of his life. Nobody would ever be able to convince him that it wasn't his fault.
His eyes fell on his shaking hands and he abruptly turned around to walk back inside; he needed another drink.
...
Like I said... Trust me... ;-)
I hope to update soon.