Title: Because He was There
Author: Dragonfly's Girl aka Ki Ki
Disclaimers: Not mine...
Note: This is the companion piece to Snapshot 109
This one's for you, Lily :).
She hated being weak, being the damsel in distress waiting for her knight in shining armour to rescue her. She hated not being able to save herself.
She hated this.
People usually recounted their experience of being unconscious as one where they would meet family members that had gone ahead of them, to assist them and help them find their way, to death or to the living.
She had nobody.
Not that it was any of a surprise. She didn't have any family growing up except for the foster parents that had bounced her around and the foster siblings that had tried to bully her until she was finally settled in the orphanage. She half expected the nuns at the orphanage to show up and show her the way to Heaven, but then maybe that would just be too convenient.
Plus, if the nuns were to do that, there would be too many of them to look after and they wouldn't really get to enjoy their own stay in Heaven, would they?
Either way, she was still stuck here, frustrated with herself, frustrated with the situation. Frustrated as hell.
She wasn't exactly lost. No, she knew where she was – she was in the place where people not quite dead, but not quite alive either would go. It was pretty obvious she wasn't dead yet, because she could still hear the people she knew when she was alive talking to her. She probably wouldn't be able to do that if she were dead. So, no, she wasn't lost. She just didn't know exactly how to get out of here.
She could hear all her friends asking if she could hear them, telling her to hang on, among the many other cheesy and cliché lines. She just wanted to scream and say yes, I can hear you, if you would freaking stop asking me that, and yes, I am trying to hang on so stop badgering me about it.
But of course she didn't. Not that she could if she had really wanted to. But she didn't even scream that in her head, because she knew they were all concerned for her.
It was just a freak accident anyway, one that involved a probably terrified rookie cop not properly clearing the room. Damn that kid. He must be totally freaked out by now, and possibly getting chewed by Mac and Danny and Flack. Damn that rookie cop and the stupid perp who didn't know how to shoot a gun properly.
She was letting her thoughts wondered, because really, that was the only thing to keep her company at the moment, let her thoughts wonder until she figured out exactly what she needed to do to get out of here.
She was getting close, she knew, with reality simmering just beyond her reach. No, she wasn't looking at a big blob glowing gooey matter labeled "reality". What she had was a feeling, a tug at her heart that she could feel even when she couldn't really feel the pain of her injury (she probably should enjoy it while it lasted because for sure she would be saying differently when she woke up).
No, she knew she was getting close because she could feel him better now, could channel his emotions better.
That stubborn man hadn't spoken much even when he visited. She wondered how he could afford so much time at her bedside. With her in the hospital, the team should have been shorthanded. How could they afford to let the head CSI himself out of the lab for so long was a mystery worth investigating itself.
Still, she was grateful that he was there. He was always close by, and in the last few days (she assumed those were days because she knew he wouldn't leave except forced by the staff at the end of the day), she could even feel him holding her hand. She relished in that contact, craved it, because it told her that she was getting closer to getting back to him.
His not speaking much worried her though. Granted, Mac Taylor had never been one to speak a lot. Still, his silence worried her. He was holding too much inside himself, shutting himself down. She knew, because he had done it to varying degrees over the years. She had slowly found the way to get him to let out his emotions over the years since Claire, had slowly helped him to regain some sort of normalcy after the tragic passing of his wife. He had done better over the years.
She just worried that he had relapsed and was reverting back to his old self again.
Just like today, he had been sitting there for a long time now, and his thumb in this monotonous motion of brushing against the back of my hand. Still, he had said nothing. Somehow, she felt as though she could feel his stormy emotions inside, but the hand holding hers was steady, and his breathing – though a touch heavy – was regular. He was feeling anything but calm on the inside, but she would bet her badge that his outward exterior was anything but a man in rage.
She could hear the door to (presumably) her room open, and two sets of footsteps walked in.
"Hey Mac. How are you?" Lindsay. Stella could hear the touch of concern in her voice – not just for her, no doubt. For Mac as well. That girl had been coming by and trying to get Mac to take care of himself rather regularly lately. She did feel slightly better knowing others on the team were looking after the stubborn man as well.
"She looks like she has more colour in her face, don't you think?"
There was a sigh, then "The doctors are saying she's doing better."
So, Danny's here as well, Stella mused, with Lindsay, no less.
"But she's not waking up yet," came the stubborn man's response.
If Stella could muster up enough energy to get up and beat some sense into her long-time friend, she would. At the same time, though, she couldn't help but feel the trickle of warmth that flowed through her. Mac Taylor was concerned, more than concerned. He was worried, and he was worried about her.
Still, that man was way too stubborn, way too focused on what had gone wrong, what could have gone worse.
"She will," Lindsay's voice was soft, and Stella could detect the slight reassurance, and slight pleading in her tone. They were stretched thin, physically and emotionally exhausted. Damn right, kiddo. I will be up soon. She wanted to kick and scream her way out of here, wanted nothing more than to be by her friends and get through this hurdle with them around her.
"Yes, she will," Mac echoed. She could feel that he had increased the pressure on the hand linked to hers. She could feel the squeeze, and the warmth from just being in contact with him physically.
"Mac, why don't Lindsay and I stay here for a while so you can grab something to eat and maybe stretch your legs a bit?"
Good idea, Danny, Stella thought. Get the man out of here; get his mind off of all these, at least for a while.
"I'm fine, Danny. There's no need."
"Come on, Mac, you know Stella's not gonna be happy if she finds out about this, right?"
"I will deal with her displeasure when she wakes up and confronts me about it."
Oh, you will. Stella knew she was pissed, beyond pissed, at the man's stubbornness. There would be butt-kicking, she would guarantee it.
"Mac, you need to take care of yourself. You need to sleep and let yourself recover from this all."
There was no masking the concern in Lindsay's voice this time, and that worried Stella. Things were much worse than she had imagined, apparently. If Mac wasn't sleeping, wasn't eating. She was worried, and she was frustrated, and she was mad.
She was worried at the man, frustrated at the situation, and mad at herself for not being able to do anything to get some sense into the stubborn man.
"Are you saying that I should go and relax while my partner is lying here, by herself, when she's fighting for her life? Are you telling me that I should just let her be and go eat and drink and let worries out the window? Are you telling me that I should just leave her here all by herself and go make sure I am okay when she's obviously not?"" Mac's voice was rising by the syllable, and for some strange reason, Stella felt comforted by it. He was finally letting what had been stewing inside out. Though she didn't want Lindsay to bear the brunt of it, she was glad the two younger CSI's were there.
"Mac, you know that's not – "
"Not what you meant? Then what do you mean, Lindsay?" Mac was almost shouting, and Stella could feel her own pulse racing. She wanted to be the one to take his hand and comfort him, to calm him down and let him know that things weren't going to be so bad for so long.
She hated this. She hated not being able to be with the man she cared so much about.
"Mac, we're only looking out for you. You don't have to get all defensive, you know?" Stella winced at the tone Danny used, and she knew what was coming. The conversation was turning downhill and fast. She wanted to intervene – needed to intervene.
Mac was no longer holding her hand and she missed the contact, miss having him with her and holding onto her.
"I swear to God, Danny, if any of you suggest again that I should leave – "
Then you will. she muttered to herself and closed her eyes in frustration. If she were awake, if she were able, she would –
The intensity of his grip of her hand scared him, jolting her awake, and slowly, she realized, she was feeling more than she had in ages.
She could feel him, and as she tried to open her eyes – and only succeeded to have them half open – she saw a haggard man staring down at her, full of guilt and pain and care. She saw him, and saw their younger charge standing not far off to the side behind Mac.
Then she knew. She was back, and he heard her.
"Can't a girl rest in peace?" she joked weakly, and she relaxed as he brushed some hair from her face. She was back, and he was in his seat beside her again.
She knew Danny and Lindsay were still in the room, but in that moment, it felt as though the whole world held only two people – Mac and herself.
"You've been resting for the past 2 weeks, Stell," his voice is soft, as if he just deflated from the anger just moments earlier. His emotions spent.
Her face scrunched up. "2 weeks?"
Mac simply nodded, bringing Stella's hand to his lips and brushed against it softly.
She ached all over, but her own discomfort was cast aside as she took in the exhausted look on Mac's face.
"You've been here the whole time," it wasn't a question. She knew he had been here the whole time, because she could feel him the whole time.
"I'm fine" he insisted.
She was too tired to argue with him. She could feel the pain from her injury more acutely now, and it hurt. She had just slept for two weeks, but still, her lids felt heavy and she felt ready to go back to sleep again.
Yet not before putting some sense into the stubborn man's head.
"You need to go get some rest."
He shook his head though, his eyes never leaving hers. He hadn't said anything, but his eyes told her all he wanted to say. Mac Taylor was proud, she knew, and he would go if she insisted, but his eyes, they were asking her not to send him away, telling her that he needed to be here still.
She sighed, knowing she was defenceless against him when he was so determined. It probably wouldn't be the best decision for the both of them for him to stay, but at the moment, she, too, was comforted by his closeness. She needed to be close to him just as much as he needed to be with her. Tiredly, she sighed and nodded.
He was still holding her hand, and this time, when he brought it up to his lips, he placed a soft kiss there. A kiss that sent shivers all the way up her arm to her heart.
Her eyes were drooping again. She didn't want to close her eyes in case she would be back to that in-between place from before, but the need to sleep was too strong.
"Sleep," he commanded softly, understanding her struggle even as he himself was emotionally exhausted. "Sleep. I'll be here."
"You get some rest too," she ordered, and watched him give his assent before closing her eyes again.
He was near, and holding onto her. He was there, and she knew she could rest.
All because he was there with her.
Thanks for reading, and for those of you who left the anonymous review at Snapshot 216 (if you're reading this :P).
Until Next Time