My Dad Mac
A/N: This idea came to me at about 3am this morning when I couldn't sleep.
Pairing: You know me…it's stella/mac all the way baby!
Disclaimer: one day…maybe one day…but until then, I'm just a little fish in the CSI: NY fanfiction ocean.
Summary: I know there are loads of fics based on this idea but I decided to manufacture one of my own. Mac has an 18 year old daughter who is in her last year of high school. This is her story about the tragic death of her mother and the loss of the father she used to know. Will she ever get him back? On top of that who else does she turn to for the things only a mother can provide?
The first chapter is largely about 9/11 and I'd like to dedicate to my friend who's uncle died on that fateful day. Thanks guys.
Chapter One: Morgan Taylor
It's 5:30 in the morning, how on earth can he get up that early I'll never know. Well, atleast he came home last night. Work is his refuge, unfortunatly for me, sometimes I get the impression he'd rather be at work than spend time with his own daughter. We all have our own ways of coping, he can't look at me because I remind him of her, sometimes I find it hard to believe he was ever my father. I cannot believe that the man who taught me to play the guitar and read me bedtime stories and helped me make cookies for the school bake sale…he's just a memory now. I often wonder if his soul fell with the towers that killed my mother.
But I know he'll be alright at work…I'm so proud of him. I know who he'll run to. I was happy when it looked as if he was starting to move on with his life going on dates and stuff but I never liked his dates, that was the only problem. When I told Stella this, she laughed. She didn't say it herself but I knew she agreed with me. Stella has been the rock in my broken family. She brought him home to me after nights where he'd been on a bender at a near by bar. I didn't know who else to turn to when I had my first period but she was always their, just like my mother. I know that no one can ever replace her, never. That's why I say but I think I mean that I don't want anyone to replace her. But Stella's different to the other women, she saved my father she's who my father needs to spend the rest of his life with.
I can't speak for myself. I know I'm a hypocrite when I talk about my father working ungoldly hours and never being around when I myself too, disclosed myself from everyone around me. I don't really have much to do with everyone outside school-I'm better friends with everyone at the lab. Don taught me to drive, Lindsey helped me choose my prom dress and Danny…he just makes me laugh. I want more friends, I really do. But it's like people avoid me because they know what happened 8 years ago.
I remember it like it was yesterday. I remember it so painfully well. I was in math, I hate math. I saw the principle come in and when I saw him look at me I just knew, don't ask me how, I just did. And I got up, and I just ran, I ran and ran as fast as I could to ground zero but I could get anywhere near it. I was 10 years old and an old woman tried to drag me away in case I got hurt. But I just screamed and kicked and screamed and kicked. Begging for my mother to emerge from the rubble like the other dusty ghosts of New York City.
Don Flack found me sobbing on the sidewalk and took me home. When I asked him where my father was he shook his head but told me Stella was looking for him. That made me feel better…knowing that Stella would look after him. When I got home, Danny was waiting outside our apartment, we went inside and watched disney films and ate pizza, I felt like I couldn't cry any more and I had no more energy to scream. I fell asleep and when I woke up Danny was still there, snoring on the sofa…the pizza had long gone cold. I sat there, young and naïve, not really understanding the adult world at this time but I wanted answers and no one could give me them.
I wanted my father, and Danny told me that I'd have to go with him to the lab. I asked for my father again and again and as if my prayers were finally answered he was there in the door way. He was there in person but in spirit, he was long gone. He looked like he'd aged 10 years and simply walked past us and shut the door into the bathroom. We sat in silence, the tv turned off for obvious reasons, and listened to the water from the shower to stop. By now Stella had arrived, the door was open, no one had bothered to shut it and she just walked in. I ran to her and held on to her as if my life depended on it. She whispered into my ear that everything would be alright.
My father came out of the bathroom several minutes later, dressed smartly for work. I listened him and Stella argue for a little, Stella raising her voice poiniantly as not to scare me, saying that he could not possiby think of going to work at a time like this. He didn't listen and took me by the hand and we walked out of the door.
I turned and watched Stella thank Danny before catching up with us. We all got into the car and went to the lab. I'd never been to the lab before and any other time I would have been exited but he told me we wouldn't be going home for a while.
I sat in his office drawing picture of us, the three of us happy, with the dog I'd always wanted. Stella came in and said they were lovely drawings but when my father came in and saw them he raged and tore them up. I sat and sobbed for the rest of the day and I didn't see him until it was dark, and I was hungry and tired. For the first time in my life I was scared of my father. He came in a little while later, having calmed down and for the first time he took me in his arms and nearly squeezed the air out of my lungs.
Stella offered that we stayed with her for a bit, I did, but he didn't. He said he needed to get his head together. I liked staying with Stella. We did girly things together but after a while I missed my father, I missed playing the grand piano that my mother and I played duets together on. The next morning, Stella took me back to my apartment and the door was open. Bin bags were flying out of the door. We went inside and the place was a mess. He'd trashed our apartment. Disposing of everything that reminded him of her. I ran to him screaming, untangling myself from Stella's grasp. I stood in the door frame watching, tears falling down my face as I watched my father crumble and Stella rock him in her arms as he sobbed.
They said I was too young to understand. I was 10 years old, my mother was dead…I understood that part very well but what I didn't understand was why my father hated me.
I asked Stella this one day and that was the first time I saw her cry.
The next time I wake, it's nearly 8. Crap. I jump out of bed and grab a quick shower. I washed, dried and straightened my hair before grabbing my keys and heading out to my car. My father had bought it for me for my 18th birthday. That day was probably the second worst day of my life and the best day of my life too. I woke up and went into the lounge and the keys were sitting on the coffee table with a pink ribbon tied around them. It was the first time I'd seen him smile genuinly at my exitment. I always had a fear that I would upset him if I was happy. I couldn't help it.
He wanted to get rid of everything about her but I was not prepared to give up my music. The grand piano stayed and I play it everyday. I still sing too, I think he wants me to follow in his footsteps in science but music is where I truly want to be, theatre is what I'd love to do. He says it's a waste, I'm an overachiever at school and he says I could go far but daughters aren't designed to listen to their fathers. My mother would have understood.
I tried to prove to him by auditioning for West Side Story at school and when I played Maria I knew he couldn't help but feel proud.
It's really warm this morning and I have to be in school early because I have a recital at 9. I pause on the sidewalk, wondring if I should take advantage of the nice weather and walk to school instead. I put the keys in my pocket and set off, I'll probably get there quicker anyway. As I'm walking a car beeps behind me. I turn and see Robbie in his car.
"You wanna ride?" he calls from the window. I shrug, he's never really spoken to my before, but I know him, he plays the oboe…beautifully.
"Ok." I say getting in beside him.
"You got your recital this morning?" he asks pulling our infront of a cab.
"Yeah, you?" I ask. For gods sake, why am I so nervous….I have to tell Stella about this later, but maybe not my dad, he'll freak…he doesn't like the thought of him not being the only man in his life…which is ironic seeing as he never seems to be around anyway.
The day goes smoothly, the recital better than expected and even a "well done" from Robbie…ok Morgan, get a grip. He gives me a ride to the lab, waves goodbye and rides off. I could have gone home but I decided that I'm not letting my father get away without seeing me today…maybe he'll ask how my recital went. If he remembered, I put a post-it on the fride last night, but oh yes, he wasn't home.
"Hey Morgan" Lindsey says, greeting me at the foot of the stairs.
"Hey, how's things?" I ask.
"The lab's been swamped all day" I frown, she knows I wasn't talking about work.
"I wasn't talking about work" I smile, she laughs nervously.
"I don't know what your talking about" she says.
" Morgan T" Danny holars, running down the stairs. Our chat will have to wait.
"Hey, Danny…" I say in a sing-song voice. "Have you seen my dad?" I ask.
"He's upstairs, where he always is" Danny says.
"Thanks, guys, I'll catch you later" I say before going upstairs to see what sort of a mood my father is in.
"Hey, Morgan! How was your recital?" I hear Stella ask. I turn around…she's so pretty, why can't my dad see that?
"It was great…thanks for asking" I say
"and before you go in all guns blazing, he did remember…he does love you" she says softly.
"He has a funny way of showing it sometimes" I say. I can't help feel irratated that she ALWAYS sticks up for him.
Stella doesn't reply, I don't expect her to. We say our goodbyes and promise to meet for lunch some time this week and I head over to my father's office. I push open the glass door and step in side. As I expected, his head is buried in a file.
"Hey" he says without looking up. That surprised me!
"How was you recital today…I was thinking of you" he finishs, looking up. He looks so tierd, I wish he would sleep. I wish I could stop the dreams.
"It was good…look, you know that the choir is singing Faure's Reuiem at the Catherdral on Saturday, I know you said you had to work but there are still some tickets available if you want to change your mind" I plead hoping he takes the hint. I just want my father to hear me sing.
"I'm sorry Morgan, but Danny's got the night off then, I'm gonna be down one CSI as it is…" I feel the tears well up in my eyes. I wish I had as many excuses as he does.
I go home straight away and hammer some Chopin on the paino…sometimes it's the only thing that can make me feel better. I play for hours and hours until the neighbours complain, waiting for him to come home…
But he doesn't.
A/N So what do you think? Can't promise it will be updated soon, concert season is looming and violin practise is dominating my free time.
