A/N: For the Orgy Armada's Second Coming. The prompt is "It's Gone Too Far". Both stories take place behind the red door. In part one, Charlie and Bass will begin a new phase of their relationship. In part two, we'll see Miles and Rachel as they deal with issues that threaten their future (mention of MCD).
You can read these two parts as one complete story, or read either as a standalone one-shot. They work either way.
Part 2: An Ending (Miles/Rachel)
Miles is sitting at Bass's kitchen table eating a bowl of oatmeal when the cabin door opens. He looks up, mouth full, nodding as Rachel walks in. He's been living here with Bass for the past month, ever since his break up with Rachel. It hasn't been perfect, but it has been better than the last couple of weeks they'd spent together under her roof. The end of their relationship had been ugly. This is the first time he's seen her since.
He swallows and takes a sip of coffee. "Rachel."
She looks around distastefully at the shabby interior of Bass's cabin and sighs. "So, this is home now?"
Miles shrugs. "For now. Gonna find my own place soon."
She brushes the dust off the chair facing his and sits down. "I know about them." When he says nothing, she presses on. "Charlie and Monroe. I know about them."
He sighs. "Don't start anything, Rach. They're really happy."
She purses her lips and nods once, curtly. "So, I've heard."
"Why are you here?"
"I wanted to tell you that I'm leaving."
"Leaving for how long?" He takes another bite of his oatmeal.
"Well, forever. Not coming back."
"Seriously? This again? Charlie needs you. Your Dad needs –"
"My Dad needs a nurse, and he has one. When I visited yesterday, he thought I was a waitress. Kept asking me for more garlic bread." She smiles sadly. "He doesn't need me. Doesn't even know me anymore."
"And Charlie? She doesn't have dementia. She definitely knows who you are." The thought of how another Rachel vanishing act might impact Charlie makes Miles's heart ache.
"I tried to talk to her and she doesn't want anything to do with me."
"Maybe you guys can work it out?" he pleads. "For her sake?"
"Not while he's in her life. When I see him I want to kill him. When I see him with her, well… this thing between them has gone too far. I can't accept it, Miles. I just can't." Rachel takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly. "You remember when I had that episode after the Tower?"
Miles snorts. "Episode? Yeah, kind of hard to forget."
"Exactly. Well, when I see them together, I start to feel like I'm losing it, like everything is falling apart again."
"But in time, maybe you can learn to accept it?"
She shakes her head. "Last night I had a dream that I came here to kill Bass and you were here and you killed me to protect him – to protect them. I watched as you wrapped my body in a tarp and asked Bass to dig a grave. It was surreal, but felt…prophetic."
"Sounds like you maybe ate something spicy before you went to bed."
"No. This isn't the first time. Some variation of that dream has haunted me ever since the first day I found out they were together. I can't stay here. Knowing they are in this town – together – it's ripping me up."
"But she's happy, Rach. Really, truly happy. Doesn't that count for anything?"
"It should." She shrugs. "It doesn't."
"Have you told Charlie your plans to go?"
"No. I'm not going to. I'm leaving this with you. You'll give it to her?"
He takes the offered envelope from her hand. "You need to talk to her."
"She doesn't want to talk. Not to me."
"Maybe if you said something other than how much you hate all of her life choices, she'd be a little more talkative?"
She ignores him, standing. "I'm leaving. Take care of our girl."
Miles stands too – so quickly that his chair falls with a bang. "What do you mean, our girl?"
"Oh, you know what I mean." Rachel sounds tired suddenly. "It's hard to miss. She's so much like you sometimes, it's scary."
"I asked you once. You told me she was Ben's. Why didn't you ever tell me the truth?"
"It never felt like the right time, but time is running out now."
"Does she know? Did you ever tell her?"
"Never told anyone." She points to the letter. "Till now. It's all in there. I think it will help her deal with me being gone, assuming she even notices."
"Jesus, Rach. She's going to notice. You are her mother! Where are you going, anyway?"
"I'm thinking California, but I'm not sure yet." She stares off, lost in thought. "Somewhere far away."
"Look, even though things didn't work out between you and me, I do wish you'd stay."
"And I wish you and Charlie wouldn't have chosen Bass over me. We all wish for things we won't ever get." She grasps the knob on the door and turns it. "Goodbye Miles."
"You're sure?"
She pauses there on the threshold and looks back. The morning sunlight shines through her hair and Miles feels a tug at his heart. She never answers but he knows in his gut that this is it.
The door closes softly behind her and Miles stares at the faded red paint of the door, deep in thought.
Miles gives Charlie her mother's letter the day after Rachel leaves Willoughby. He watches with a heavy heart as her face falls. She understands just as Miles had, that this is her mother's last goodbye.
Miles holds Charlie as she cries into his shoulder. Bass watches silently from nearby, his eyes brimming with tears. Neither of these men can stand seeing Charlie in pain. They stay like that until Charlie gets hold of her emotions.
Finally Charlie looks up at him. "So, you're my Dad, huh? I guess that's why I suck at math?" Even though her eyes are red, her smirk tells Miles she's going to be okay.
He sighs, relieved. "I guess so. That okay?"
"Yeah. That's okay. You never leave me. So it's more than okay."
"I'm not going anywhere either." Bass says with a chuckle.
Slowly Charlie returns his smile. "Good to know. I've gotten kind of attached."
Bass wiggles his eyebrows at her. "Want to go get attached again? I have some time."
Miles groans, then stands and heads for the door. "I'll be at the bar. You two can stop by and join me when you're done with all the things I don't ever need to know about."
Life goes on, as it tends to do. Charlie and Bass move into the old Porter house and Charlie helps take care of her Grandfather. Miles decides to stay permanently in the cabin with the red door.
Rachel has been gone for a year when the battered letter is delivered to Miles by courier. He opens it carefully, and reads.
Dear Mr. Matheson,
My name is Stella and I live south of old Oklahoma City in a little village called Salt. I first met your lady friend six months ago. She wasn't doing well. She was malnourished and weak. Seemed to have been traveling for a long time. She was sick. Real sick. I think she had been for a while. It was probably cancer, but I don't know for sure. We haven't had a good doctor around here in years.
Whatever it was, it hit her hard. We let her stay in our back room and we did our best to make her comfortable. She spoke of you often. You, and a girl named Charlotte and a boy named Danny. She said you three were the lights of her life. She missed you every day.
She died in her sleep last night. She went real peaceful. I don't think she was in pain at the end, or at least not much. She told me once in the beginning that I should tell you when she went. She knew she was sick before she left you, I think. Didn't want you to see her fade away.
She wanted you to know she was sorry for the way things turned out, but that it was the right thing for her to leave. She said to tell you she loved you still and to give her best to Charlie and Trout. Is that right? I didn't write it down. It was a fish name. Anyway, she got confused sometimes. Seemed to think the blackout was all her fault. The one thing she was never confused about was loving you.
I don't know what happened between you two and why things didn't work out, but she made it sound like you were a right nice fella. I hope you can find some happiness. It's hard to come by these days, but good luck.
My deepest sympathy,
Stella Pickering
Miles reads the letter three times through before he realizes that tears are falling. He brushes them away and straightens his shoulders. This is not a day for mourning. This is a day for joy. Miles walks to the old cracked mirror that hangs behind the door and straightens his collar.
"I look like an idiot," he mutters, pulling at the coat jacket with the too-short sleeves. In spite of the fact that he hates having to dress up, and in spite of the sobering news from out West, Miles smiles slowly into his reflection.
Today he is giving his only daughter away in marriage to his oldest friend in the world. Stella had been right. Happiness is hard to come by, and Miles counts himself very lucky to have found more than his fair share.
**END**