Title: One Year
Author: AllOverTheWorld
Summary: It's September 11th 2002 and Mac is in a bar, alone, Stella joins him and he tells her something that happened from September 11th 2001.
Authors Note: This idea came to me as I started reading the book 102 Minutes: The Untold Story of the Fight to Survive Inside the Twin Towers.
I am not versed in the specifics of Claire's death and if this is completely off base then I do apologize. However this idea started with Mac and Claire's last words to each other and it morphed into this.
I don't normally dedicate but:
This is dedicated to the 2,749 men and women that died on September 11th 2001.
You will never be forgotten.
He sat, his face somber and his eyes ice cold.
He sat, willing himself to feel anything: pain, sadness, hatred.
Anything.
He sat, the noise of the bar surrounding him, drowning him.
He sat, his fists clenched tight as memory after memory assaulted him and no matter what they were the tears were becoming harder and harder to face.
He sat, knowing that there were a few other people in this bar for the same reason as he, to remember, to mourn, and to drink away the pain. Except he didn't feel any, he was numb. It was September 11th 2002 and it had been exactly one year since Claire, his love, his wife, had been so cruelly taken away from him.
The sound of the bar door opening makes him look up at who has entered the premises, more out of habit than actual interest. Surprising and not at all, he sees Stella enter the bar and quickly scan the occupants until her eyes rest on him. She's been a godsend over the past year, forcing him to take care of himself and, even though she too was hurting, she shouldered as much of his pain as she could. She spent hours sitting in silence with him, or letting him talk, letting him ramble or letting him curse.
So it was no surprise that she joined him, tonight of all nights. As she took a seat she said not a word but simply took off her coat. He knew that she probably felt like she was intruding on something, like she shouldn't be here but he also suspected that some part of her had been worrying about him all day. It had been clear from the worried glances and held back comments about 9/11 that she was worried about him. Had it been anyone else he would have long since shouted at them for babying him but this was Stella. She cared about him and acted how she did as to protect him, even when he wouldn't protect himself.
"How'd you know I'd be here?" he asked, surprising not only Stella but himself with the words.
"This was the last place you two had dinner." Stella answered simply, a connection that until now Mac had not made.
However it made sense, he had come here for an unknown reason. It was like a magnet had been placed here and was drawn to it, now he knew what that magnet was. They descended into silence again, each of them absorbed in their own thoughts. A chorus of cheers erupts across the bar and both of their heads snap up, ready to take control of the situation but they relax again as they realize it was only a reaction to a darts game.
Suddenly Mac felt the overwhelming urge to tell Stella the one thing that he had never told anyone about that fateful day. He wrestled with the idea for a moment before saying slowly "She called me."
It took Stella a moment to truly understand what he meant.
Not quite sure what to say, not sure what he wanted, or expected, her to say. So, she didn't say anything.
The silence that greeted Mac after this statement was, actually, what he had expected. It was a very personal comment not one that could be replied to with a 'that's nice' and Stella was much to gracious as to blatantly ask what was said between the two of them. He wouldn't tell, at least not that much, he did want to thank her, thank her for being there, for being so stubborn when it came to him. He was about to start his thanks when the memory overwhelmed him
Mac peered intently down at the fiber, it was really a stubborn fiber. Not giving him one bit of useful information, even after he had done every test imaginable the only information he had gleamed from this fiber was that is was from a pillowcase. That, in no way, helped him, considering their victim had died of asphyxiation , due to being suffocated with a pillow.
It was late, at least for him to have only arrived at work fifteen minutes ago but what could he say besides he had a wife and that wife could cook an amazing omelet. The exact time was 8:46 and it was that exact moment that his world would change, forever. He heard the sound of the first plane crashing into the One World Trade Center but to him it was nothing more than a distant car crash. How wrong he was.
His phone exploded into life five minutes later and he looked down to see Chief Sinclair's caller ID on his screen. Sighing he picked it up "Taylor."
"One of the World Trade Center buildings had been hit."
The chief's words make his ice run cold and the world seems to stop moving "By what?" he asks, the question feeling rather foolish coming out of his mouth.
"A Plane."
"Which one?" Mac asks, barely able to keep the panic out of his voice
"North." Sinclair said, seemingly oblivious to Mac growing panic "Got your team over there ASAP, be ready to help with evacuations."
"Yes sir." Mac said, his voice barely above a whisper as he hung up. Instantly he redialed the number he knew by heart. He hoped, prayed, pleaded that she would pick up because he needed to hear Claire's voice.
She worked on the 95th floor of the North World Trade Tower but not knowing where on the building the plane had crashed was not helping ease his nerves "Stella!" he barked, just as his Greek/Italian assistant CSI walked out of the ladies room.
"I got the call." She said, her expression just as worried as his "I'll get everyone together. You keep calling." She said
Mac shook his head "I'll-" but before he could even speak the words Stella cut him off "Get out to the car, I'll tell everyone where to go. Get in touch with Claire." She said firmly.
That was all Mac needed to hear.
At 10:26 am Mac was worried sick, the growing feeling of dread growing in his stomach as he tried to follow orders, give them and figure out a way to contact Claire. Every time he called her phone went straight to voice, another bad omen, but he hadn't stopped calling. He also noticed that Stella always seemed to be right near him, sometimes just glancing at him, sometimes placing a comforting hand on his arm or, once, whispering that it would be alright.
His phone vibrated into life, the caller ID displaying a number he wasn't familiar with "Taylor." He said sharply.
"Mac."
Her voice coming through the receiver was music to his ears, but not a happy tune, she sounded like she was in pain but trying to hide it.
"Claire." He said, quickly walking away from the other officers and into the privacy of an empty tent "Are you okay?"
Labored breathing before a reply of "Not really. Mac" Claire's voice broke "Mac."
"Claire." Mac said again "Where are you?" he didn't know what he could do but he'd be damned if he didn't do everything in his power to help get is wife out.
"Trapped." She said "Mac, I don't think-"
"Don't say it." He said, the tears rushing to his eyes.
"Mac" she said, her voice now stern but still sounding like she was in pain "Mac, I'm pretty sure one of my leg is broke and all the stair ways are blocked, elevators aren't working."
Mac closed his eyes and looked upwards at the canvas ceiling of the tent "It's going to be alright." He said
Claire laughed "You make the even the worst situations sound like everything is going to be okay." She said, she was crying now "Mac I love you." She said
"I love you to." Mac said "I love you more than anything in the world."
10:27
Hearing his name being called Mac stepped out of the tent he had been in and looked up at the first World Trade Center, smoke and pieces of debris falling ground ward, propelled by gravity.
"Don't forget about me." She says, he can tell she's smiling.
"I wont." Mac promises
"Don't miss me to much though."
"I will."
"Mac." Claire says and her tone is not one of admonishment but of pain
"Sweetheart." Mac says "You remember when we went to dinner last night?"
"Yes." She replies but through gritted teeth
"You looked amazing." He said "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met and" the tears are streaming down his face "I will always love you."
"I love-" Claire begins but her words are lost in the roar as the North World Trade Center crashed to the ground.
10:28
His phone fell out of his hand and Mac sank to his knees, raising an arm to protect himself from the smoke and falling bits of building. Screaming, sirens, more screaming, all sound was lost as Mac simply stared at the spot where the tower used to be, where Claire was now buried."
A familiar hand on his shoulder shakes him out the memory and he realizes that he's crying. The tears streaming down his face as he remembered the last moments he ever had with his wife. Wiping the tears away he says with a choked voice "She would have wanted to thank you."
Stella cocks her head, still not saying a word but she too is crying.
"Claire." He says "And me. I-" he says, taking a deep breath and trying to compose him self but failing miserably "Everything you've done for me, you've kept me alive, without you I would have-" he cant even say the words, as the tears slip and slide down his face.
Stella moves, in one fluid motion, so that she is sitting next to him, one arm wrapped around his shoulder "You don't need to thank me." She says "You would have done the same thing for me."
Now words were truer.
"I'm glad that you got to say good-bye." She whispers, after minutes of silence as Mac began to recompose himself.
He nods "I am too." He said, at least for that.
A waitress walks over, two beers on her tray and she sets them down "On the house Detectives." She said
The waitress knew Mac Taylor as well as Stella Bonasera and much of the New York Police Departement, at least the cops. She also knew that Mac had had a wife, Claire, because Claire had, at one point, been helping her find a job. The loss must have been a tough one but even as she walked away she was happy that those two were getting through it together and she stopped walking and bowed her head as she heard the toast and the clinking of glasses
"To Claire."
I do realize this is sad, I wrote it with the intention of making it sad. Please let me know what you thought of it? In character? Cheesy? Stupid?
Thanks,
AllOverTheWorld