Disclaimer: the characters are not mine and most likely never will be, but I can dream…
White. All colors mixed, in the light. Light is diffused all around her. She feels like walking through a cloud. Stella stretches out her hand, it disappears in the whiteness. The fog is so dense she can feel it wrap around her fingers, wrap around her body like a cloak.
She can't see the ground beneath her feet; she thinks she can't even feel it. Everything is hidden by the fog, sight and sound muted. She feels alone in the world. There don't seem to be any cars on the streets. But then there didn't seem to be any cars on the street when… The thought is gone before she can finish it, disappearing into the fog, leaving her uneasy.
It might not be a good idea to start moving, but she can't just stand there and wait. Wait for what? She can't remember, as if the fog is creeping into her head now. She swears she will keep away from Sullivan's for a while, or only have Irish coffee there like Mac. Mac, she remembers why she's out in this weather in the first place, and decides to ignore that Irish coffee contains alcohol as well.
Carefully she feels her way along the pavement. At least the chance to bump into someone is small. Any normal person surely has escaped from this weather, if not by staying inside then by going inside. Traffic must have come to a standstill. Again the thought of cars troubles her, but she can't tell why.
She decides to concentrate on Mac instead, to imagine his steps. She knows where he was, but where is he now? The thought that she hardly knows where she is herself almost makes her chuckle. New York is not a good place to get lost in, and not a good place to be looking for somebody, in any weather. People disappear in the mass of other people or in the mass of tiniest particles of water floating in the air.
She didn't think such weather was possible in this city. Must be, though. And Mac is somewhere out there, waiting for her. He didn't have to say a word, she knows it. She can feel his presence now, as if he were only a step away from her, in the fog. She reaches out and touches… nothing. He's not there. She moves on.
Shades of grey blow past her like veils in the wind. For a moment she thinks she can see the outlines of buildings around her. She wants to hold on to something other than herself. In her haste she stumbles, pain shoots through her body. Pain that reminds her of the last case they were working on, reminds her that something went wrong. She takes off her shoes to feel the irregularities in the pavement and forces herself up to continue her search.
Again she feels like Mac was just right by her side, a shadow flying by, impossible to hold. Silhouettes are closing in on her but are dispelled by the wind. She shakes her head, only her imagination, just like the cracks in the pavement holding on to her. Crooked fingers, thin like spiders' legs, brushing against her bare feet, chilling her to the bone.
She huddles into her coat, but moistened by swathes of fog it fails to serve its purpose. She thinks of Mac and it's not just the cold creeping up her spine. She knows that he can't be far, but she feels that anywhere out of reach is too far. She needs to touch him to be sure that he's still here, not gone, dissolved into the fog like everything else.
She pulls herself up again, chiding herself for being so anxious, but she can't help feeling that there is a reason for her worries. Something in his voice, in the last words she heard him speak. It spurns her on, she pulls away from the cracks and walks on, hands stretched out before her, walks on in the direction where she thinks he is.
There is a shadow that won't be scattered by the wind. She aims for it but it stays just out of reach. "Mac?" she calls out. The shadow doesn't move, it seems to linger by her side, but when she tries to touch it the distance can not be bridged. "Mac, where are you?" she's on the edge of tears, shaking from the cold fear that she will never find him. Fog is creeping into her heart.
She's almost ready to sink to the ground, to let those dark cracks swallow her. Cracks that seem to widen to separate him from her, she looks at them and sees absolute darkness luring her with promises of nirvana. She shakes her head again, violently, it's beginning to hurt. She turns to the lightness of the fog; she doesn't want to give up, not while she still feels him at her side.
"Guide me." she says to the part of him that is always with her. She follows her instinct, step after step. A sound seems to break through the wall of fog around her, the screeching of a car speeding around a corner. Some maniac… She falters when the memory hits her, manifests itself as pain all over her body. The car, coming straight at him, out of nowhere. She lets herself sink to the ground, tries not to see the image by closing her eyes.
A shadow draws nearer. She feels his hand on hers, feels that she's floating as he holds her. She opens her eyes against the light, finds he shields her from its brightness. She wants to touch his face, but her arm is too heavy. He lifts it carefully, as if he is afraid to hurt her, holds her hand to his face. She moves her fingers over his cheek, feels the slight scratch of rough hair. His careworn eyes brighten when he feels the movement.
I thought I'd lost you. She tries to voice the thought, but he has already caught it and speaks the words for her, speaks them to her. She sees him brush lightly over the bandages covering her arm. She curls her fingers around his, won't let go of him again.
Feel free to let me know what you think. Reviews warm me from inside, and it's below zero outside, so pretty please?!