AN: I'm back! I know, I know, what's taken me so long? Inspiration, people…I just didn't have much of it, or it didn't fit any TV-show in particular. Until I watched reruns of McLeod's Daughters last week and I remembered this story I wrote the first time I saw the episode "Deliver us from evil." So I found it, tweaked it up a little and deemed it ready to be sent out in the world. For you to enjoy, hopefully.
Spoilers: Anything after "Deliver us from evil" is up for grabs.
Disclaimer: Whatever makes you think I would own MLD? Are you out of your mind? Or have I offended anyone now? Oh well. On we go…
Homecoming
"…we find the defendants…guilty as charged."
As the gavel banged and the sentence of twice life in maximum security prison was pronounced, the dark haired man sitting way in the back of the courtroom released the breath he didn't even know he was holding.
It was over. The chaos his life had been in for the past few years had come to an end and even though he was grateful for it, it still felt surreal to him.
Together with his testimony and all the other gathered evidence, the people (if you could call them that) who were responsible for the untimely death of his wife and son were finally convicted. He could go back to having a normal life now.
Whatever that was. Rob…no Matt, Matt Bosnich, hell he didn't even remember his own name! How was he supposed to find out where to go now, what to do now?
He exhaled slowly, concentrating hard on his breathing lest he would faint, trying to remember the Tai Chi training which had always seemed to help him calm down before. It took a while, but he finally managed to shrug off the panic rising in his chest.
The packed courtroom started to file out and soon only he and the police officer who had always been his contact man were the only ones left. The other guy approached him, a smile on his face. Automatically, he shook the outstretched hand.
"Congratulations. We've got them."
"Yeah…" He wasn't very eloquent, but that wasn't high on his priority list either. What was, he wasn't even sure yet.
"So…what are you gonna do now?"
He shrugged. "Dunno."
"You might want to lay low for a while. These guys still have some contacts who're not too thrilled by your testimony. If you want, we could give you…"
"No."
"Are you sure?"
Coming face to face with the agent, Matt whispered harshly: "I'm sure. I'm sure I don't want to have another name, another prefabricated background, another passport or driver's license. I don't want to lie to people again, don't want to make up answers, avoid questions, situations, places, jobs. I was born Matthew Bosnich and that's who I'll be again."
"You might still be in danger!"
"Thanks for your concern, but they couldn't possibly destroy more than they already have, can they?"
"Yes they can!"
"Then I'll deal with it. I've dealt with it before."
"Yeah, and as I recall, you got shot and almost got an innocent young woman killed."
A shock went through him as the agent broached the subject. Even if her name was never mentioned, even if he had tried to block out all memories of her, for his safety as well as hers, just mentioning the shooting which had brought this incredibly brave, stupid, headstrong lady a harm's way, made his blood boil. Standing as close as he could to the offending officer, he hissed at him:
"Leave her out of this."
"If you go find her, you might get her in danger again. Is that what you want?"
"I SAID, leave her out of this."
The officer gave up, though the look on his face made it clear he didn't agree at all. Though he did understand where the man was coming from. As all people put into witness protection plans, he was struggling with having to live by a new identity, as if stripped down to the bone and settling into a too tight new skin. He had seen it before, though Matt was one who had struggled more than most. Falling in love with his late wife's spitting image had only complicated things, but who could have foreseen that?
"Suit yourself. You have our number. If you need anything, just give us a call."
"I won't. But thanks anyway."
"Stay safe man."
The two men shook hands and left the building, going in opposite directions.
Left on his own devices for the first time in years, with all his belongings returned to him, Matt Bosnich, formally known as Rob Shelton, crossed the street to have himself a cup of coffee. Sitting at an empty table, he took out a pencil and asked the waitress who brought him his coffee if she could spare him some paper. She smiled and returned a minute later with a note pad. He smiled his thanks, than frowned in concentration. There were a lot of things he needed to take care of.
Get a car.
Go see dad's grave.
Go see his wife's grave. And his son's.
Get a job.
Go see…
He stared at the last thing he'd written in doubt. If the officer was right, and he dreaded the fact that he just might be, it was better to forget about her altogether. After all, she didn't know and wouldn't find out he was a free man again, with his reassumed identity. The trail had been closed for the press and except for a small article stating the facts, no details would leak out and his name would never be mentioned. Even if she would read it, she probably wouldn't make the link.
Heck, who was he kidding anyway? It had been over a year and she would probably have moved on by now. She was a beautiful woman and was probably never short of attention. Why would she wait for a man with a shady past and so many skeletons in his closet he could easily start his own graveyard?
He did miss her, though. Sometimes so much it hurt. As a Pavlov effect, the bullet hole on his side started to sting. A souvenir from their tragic ending. She had been the only good thing to happen to him ever since his alias of Rob had gathered all he had and left the place that was once his home. First he disliked her because she reminded him of his wife and made her death too painful.
Than he liked her because she turned out to be nothing like his wife and yet so endearing and so damn persistent he just had no choice but to fall for her. Fall hard and irrevocable.
She had shown real interest in him (at least as soon as he told her that her presumptuous conclusion that he was gay was a big mistake) and as his initial fear of losing her and losing the memory of Anna wore off, he had gradually allowed her to pull his guard down. He remembered himself even laughing on occasion. Looking back, Rob Shelton had been quite happy. Happy with his job, with the people surrounding him, with his life in general.
But Rob was gone now, Matt had once again taken over and yes, he felt as schizophrenic as it sounded, however glad he was to have the right name on his passport again.
Matt was basically a new person to her. Sure, he had told her his real name and some of his background, but still, everything else about his alter ego had been little more than an act. If it had been the mysterious side attracting her to him (to Rob that is), than he had nothing to offer her. Nothing except for him. Matt Bosnich. Bankrupt widower.
Finishing his coffee, he put some money on the table and ripped out the page he had written on. He had always been better at taking action anyway, no matter who he was supposed to be.
Getting a car was no problem. The court had granted him some sort of compensation for his 'inconvenience' as they had most cryptically called his hiding, so he had some cash to get a used old truck. It wasn't much, but as long as it would get him from A to B (wherever that was), he wasn't too picky.
He put his very few possessions on the seat next to him and started driving to Melbourne to check the second thing off his to-do list.
Without much difficulty he found his father's grave, surprised to see there were flowers settled delicately next to the headstone. By the look of it, they were wilted, but not all that much. Anyway, there were flowers there and he didn't quite understand how they'd gotten there. He had no relatives left that he knew of.
A happy thought fluttered through him, maybe she…he dismissed it though. What reason would she have to do this? But if not her…who had it been?
The wind was picking up and he shivered in his thin jacket. Saying goodbye to his father, he turned on his heels…and stopped dead in his tracks.
Right there, coming right at him, walked a girl with unruly blond curls, wearing snug fitting jeans and a well worn leather jacket. She was holding an old dusty hat firmly on her head with one hand, sheltering a bunch of wildflowers with the other hand against her chest, preventing them from being ripped apart.
He would have recognized her anywhere and he froze in shock. He wasn't prepared to see her. Not here, not right now. It was too soon, too much…and what on earth was she doing here anyway? As a last panic induced decision he ducked back behind a wall, breathing hard as he heard her approach.
She put the flowers down, removing the wilted ones still standing there.
"Hi Mr. Bosnich…I'm back again. I know you must be wondering why I keep coming here, but you've got to understand…you're pretty much the only connection I still have with him, with your son that is. I know he can't contact me and might not even want to. Maybe he's already forgotten about me, but…"
He heard her raspy breath and his heart contracted at the sound. So forlorn, so sad. Somehow he hadn't allowed himself to stop and think about the effect his sudden disappearance had had on her, let alone the way in which it had happened. At the time he'd been too drowsy by loss of blood and every time in between his hectic situation had prevented him from analyzing things too much. Which might have been a good thing.
Her voice now quivered, but he could still distinguish ever word coming out of her mouth. "Truth is…I miss him. I might not have known him well, hell I didn't even know his real name at first and we didn't get along at all when I just met him, but there was something about him. And I can't help but wonder…"
Her voice hitched again and he smiled when he imagined her rubbing her nose with her sleeve, like a child. "Anyway…I don't know when or even if he'll ever come visit you, but I've got a note for him…I'm sure you'll keep it safe until he might find it and if he never does, well…I just hope he will. Someday."
He heard her rummage before saying goodbye to his dad and turn to leave.
When he was sure she was out of sight and earshot, he leapt over to the headstone again and indeed, a folded piece of paper was sticking out in the earth at the headstone's base. Feeling like an intruder, he retracted it and opened it.
Dear Rob,
There's so much I wish I could have told you, so much I wish I asked you…but we were never granted enough time. Not even enough time for me to get used to your real name, I guess it's why I addressed this note to the man I know rather than the man I would have loved to get to know.
I can picture you smiling now, this rambling being typical to the girl you might remember. Or might not. But I hope you do.
Anyway, when you find this, you're going to find out who it is that keeps putting fresh flowers on your father's grave. Somehow, this little trip seems like therapy.
I miss you. But more than that, I miss what could have been had you stayed. Call me girly, call me stupid or horribly romantic. Call me anything you want, but I can't help but fantasize about what could have happened between us. Or what might happen if you ever make it back.
If you're ever getting yourself out of the nightmare of your life, I would so much like to know how you're doing. If you're safe, healthy…happy. Has the bullet hole healed properly? Do you ever think about that day? I do, a lot. Even if it was horrible to see you hurt and even if I was in a real panic, I'll never forget it. To me, it was also the day that I knew I had possibly found the One. The fact they took you away immediately might only have added to the dreams I allowed myself to have.
Rob/Matt, I hope and pray that one day, I'll see your face again and you'll tell me all has worked out for you. And if you're either unwilling or unable to tell me yourself, would you please leave me an answer right here where you found my note?
Just the acknowledgement would mean the world to me, if only to tell my stupid mind that I did not conjure you up in my own imagination. That there once really was a man named Rob…or Matt, who I liked. A lot.
Love you always…Jodi
He swallowed, folded and opened the note again and again until the creases were almost torn. Than it hit him. Prepared or not, here she was, so close to him, so ready and willing. She had just confessed she loved him to his dead father.
What more affirmation could he possibly ask for?
Muttering a goodbye and thanks to his dad, he sprinted toward the exit of the graveyard, hoping he could still catch her.
Thank God. He was heaving by the time he reached the gates, but the Drover's Run truck was still there and he saw her lithe figure getting in.
"Jodi!"
Was that his voice? He couldn't remember making the conscious decision to open his mouth and let her name come out…but apparently it was as she turned, blinked, swallowed, blinked again and let go of the door handle.
One step. Another one. She was close enough now for him to see the tears well in her eyes, to see her swallow and blink.
Following his voice's example, his feet took charge of their own motions as he moved slightly in her direction.
Next thing he knew, his arms had joined in to encircle her frame as she wordlessly let herself fall into them.
He smiled and cried at the same time. In his hands, both her note and his own were crumpled and tossed to the dusty ground, redundant and forgotten, to be immediately swept away by the wind…
THE END
