So this is my first attempt at a fanfic, mostly because I can't seem to get Green Wing out of my head. Apologies if I've violated the character via internal monologue-type stuff. Set at the end of season 2.
I don't own Green Wing or Mac or anything, due credit goes to Victoria Pile and co. Feedback welcome.
The hospital disappeared behind him and Mac felt as though he was vanishing. Despite the tortured roar of his bike he could have sworn nobody heard him.
He was running again. Running, just like he'd done a million times before, a million years before this all began – before she could possibly have known. Only this time there was no walking into theatre the next day and pretending it never happened; this time he had to keep running: from her, from work, from Guy, from anyone he knew he could hurt – from anyone he would be leaving behind.
He could still feel the angles of her body jammed awkwardly against him, before it all. Less than an hour ago. If he concentrated hard enough the sweet scent of her hair came cutting through the wind and the noise and he could almost feel her clinging to him again, holding on for dear life when in reality he tore himself further away. The engine screamed in pitch with his mind; both were vibrating and threatening to explode from the sheer speed of it all. He could see the impact coming, and there was nothing he could do.
Yet this was the only solution. The only way he could save her from utter destruction was to push her to the very brink, to cast her overboard and pray she wouldn't drown, and truly it killed him. The image of her face was branded into his mind, and its expression was one of pain, of total confusion. She'd be waiting now, he knew she'd still be there, wondering where he was, why he would play such a cruel trick when he knew it was everything to her. It made him feel sick to know she stood there alone, helplessly searching and fighting tears of humiliation. He couldn't go back now, even if he wanted to.