A/N: So it's been *nervous laugh* a while, hasn't it? Well, I blame myself and bad planning. I shouldn't have started this story right before finals. Silly me and thinking I could actually have a life outside of the library. But anyways, we're winding down in this chapter. Lots of back story and bonding time between Mark and other characters. And Elisabeth talking about when Maddy was sick is from one of the psychiatric evaluation videos. That's not mine. But it was never used during the show, so why not use it here?
She's so gone
Part Three:
Mark Reynolds (2)
"He's gotta be strong, he's gotta be fast and he's gotta be fresh from the fight."
He'd like to say that he is used to this. However sad that sounds. He'd like to say that as a soldier, he has seen his fair share of blood and death. And that's somewhat true. He has walked next to death and washed blood off of his hands many (many) times.
But the blood and death had never—ever—come close to touching someone he loved. And until now, Mark Reynolds had considered himself to be a very lucky man.
Unfortunately, luck has an odd way of running out right when you need it the most.
If there was ever a truer statement. Mark glances down to his fresh new shirt and raw hands. He'd scrubbed them for god knows how long. Anything to get off…Maddy's blood.
The room he is in is small and softly lit. Head bowed slightly, he clings to her hand for all he's worth and listens to the beating of her heart on the EKG monitor. It's soft and steady and he swears it's the best thing he's ever heard. Because it means that Maddy Shannon is still here, with them.
Mark lets out a shaky breath and lets go of her hand, leaning back in his chair. He rubs a tired hand over his face and looks up to the ceiling. Then the helplessness sets in. And the guilt.
Because a waiting man's worst enemy is silence.
And the exhausting events of the past couple of hours flash through his mind with blinding force.
.
.
.
2 hours earlier
"Elisabeth!" Jim Shannon bursts through the front doors of the clinic with a sobbing Zoe in his arms and Josh at his heels. The remaining three members of the Shannon family are disheveled, frenzied, and a little bloodied, but otherwise unhurt.
Mark sighs inwardly, thankful for the little things. He doesn't know if Doctor Shannon could have handled working on another member of her family.
Jim freezes suddenly, eyes growing so wide they might actually fall out of his face. And Mark isn't quite sure if the father is breathing.
Doctor Shannon looks up briefly, locking eyes with her husband. A beat passes as she glances to her two children and then back to Jim. Her chin threatens to shake and she nearly breaks down right then and there, but she tightens her lips and blinks the tears away. With the smallest shake of her head she tells her husband not to bring Zoe any closer. This is not something the youngest Shannon needs to see. And Josh, well Mark doesn't think Josh is breathing either. The brother hasn't been able to look away from his sister's immobile form on the table.
But then Jim is handing Zoe to Josh and striding forward. He slips one of his hands into one of Maddy's and places the other against the side of her head. He strokes her hair and tries to hold back his emotion. "What happened?" he asks, voice hoarse. The pure agony that flashes in Jim Shannon's blue eyes is so heart-wrenching March clenches his jaw against his trembling chin.
Elisabeth shakes her head. "I don't know," she says, voice raw. "But whatever happened she's lucky to be alive, Jim."
And Mark understands her words to a frightening degree. Lucky is not scientific terminology. Lucky is exactly what it sounds like. It is fortunate. It is chance. And it means it could have easily gone the other way.
Jim clenches his jaw and turns his head to the side.
And Mark Reynolds shifts uncomfortably because Jim Shannon is staring right at him. He feels the father's eyes rake him over and knows (he hasn't actually looked at himself because he knows the blood on his clothes is not his. And that terrifies him) he doesn't look good. Just to prove him right, Jim is inches from him in seconds, blue eyes flashing with fury and fear.
"What happened, Corporal?" he growls.
The formality snaps Mark to attention and he straightens, folding his blood covered hands behind his back. "I was heading towards Commander Taylor's office when the Sixers struck, sir. Lieutenant Washington told me to go check on your home to see if your family was safe." He pauses and shifts uncomfortably. "When I got to your house it was—gone. I don't think it had been hit directly, but…" He trails off shaking his head and locks his jaw. What he says next is soft and raw in his throat because it's probably the most terrifying memory he will ever have. "I found Maddy buried underneath some debris. I got her here as fast as I could."
He keeps his eyes focused on the floor and shakes his head. He can feel it coming. The clench of his chest. The wetness gathering at the corners of his eyes. How it's almost impossible for him to breath. And then a tear rolls down his cheek. And another.
It's not a hysterical, unkept cry. It's soft and quiet and he's just so damn tired and frustrated and helpless that he is just completely overwhelmed with everything that has happened. And you want to know the worst part? It's the guilt. It's suffocating him.
"I'm sorry," he finds himself saying in a broken voice. "I'm sorry I couldn't…I should've…"
Jim Shannon's hand is on his shoulder and Mark can feel so much emotion through the touch—understanding. comfort. gratitude—that he nearly loses himself all over again. He turns his head and tries not to let the father of the girl he loves see him cry, but it's difficult to hide the tears because Jim is suddenly pulling him into a loose hug.
And Mark, well, he didn't have a great childhood, okay? His mother left him and his Dad a year after his baby sister was born. So it was just the three of them and they didn't have a ton of money and were only able to just get by, but their Dad was always there for them and they were a family. A broken one, but a family all the same. But then, one day, their Dad…he just never came home after work. And from then on it was just Mark and Elena. Until he was recruited by Commander Taylor and Terra Nova and Elena was determined to get a high school and college education, even if the world was dying. She'd always told him she'd find a way to save the planet. He wonders if she's even close to finding a solution.
So as the years passed, Mark started to forget what his father and sister looked like. But the one thing he will always remember, the one thing that is still one hundred percent crystal clear in his mind is that they loved him. And he keeps that close to his heart, because on the down days all he has to do is find that feeling—it is sharp and clear and pure—and he can get through anything.
The kicker? Jim Shannon reminds him a lot of his father. Kind. Protective. Family oriented.
And he is not afraid to admit that he misses his old man terribly.
Especially now.
Because what he does next is press his face into Jim Shannon's chest and cries. Later in life he'll think back on this moment and not be proud of his actions. This is something that is so completely not him it's frightening. But then again, Maddy Shannon and her family make him do some crazy things.
And right now, well it feels pretty damn good to just break down and cry and not be ashamed or embarrassed of it.
"It's okay," Jim Shannon says quietly. And Mark can feel the older man shift his head back to look at his wife. Mark doesn't know what is exchanged, but the next words shift his tears of fear to ones of joy. "You did enough, Mark. You saved my daughter."
.
.
.
"If you don't stop you'll re-open the cuts on your hands." Elisabeth Shannon's lightly accented voice cuts through him and his head snaps towards the door.
She's leaning against the frame, eyes watching him. There is this small tug at the corner of her lips and he can swear she's smiling at him. But it is too small for her to mean it fully. And he has never seen her look so tired before. She tries to hide it, naturally, but he's become incredibly talented at reading people.
"Ma'am?" he manages to get out.
She grins at that. "Please," she waves a hand and enters the room. "Mrs. Shannon will do fine, Mark." She slips into the chair on the opposite side of Maddy's bed and tucks a foot underneath her. Nodding to him she says, "Let me see them."
He blinks and looks down to his palms. Small cuts and gashes fleck the skin of his hands from when he'd frantically ripped away the splintered wood and metal, but nothing too serious. They'd been cleaned appropriately.
He holds them up for the doctor anyways.
"They'll scar." Elisabeth nods her head, eyes scanning. "But they'll heal well."
Lowering his hands, he goes right back to clasping them together, holding tight. He almost laughs sadly. Because however proud men are of their scars, he knows Maddy will beat him in that category. And that shakes him to his core.
"You don't think they'll ever be clean again, right?" She asks him suddenly.
He looks up to her again. And really looks. There is this sad sort of smile slipping across her lips and her eyes are full of pained understanding. Sadness. Guilt. Fear. Panic. Regret. He didn't think someone could feel so much at one time, but Doctor Shannon's eyes are incredibly readable. And he is instantly brought back to what she had said early about an 'again'.
Mark doesn't think he's ever really spent time with Elisabeth Shannon. And it's weird because for a woman he knows so little about, he's surprisingly comfortable around her. Maybe it's because Maddy gets most of her looks from her mother. The two are strikingly familiar. He'd always been more comfortable around mothers than fathers, anyways. Mothers didn't generally try and kill him for talking to their daughters. So he figures Jim Shannon is going to be the hardest of the Shannon family to convince of his intentions.
"Do you think I could ask you something?" He says the question slowly, because what he is asking about is extremely personal and from a time the mother probably wants to forget. He's completely ready for her to tell him to mind his own damn business. And he'd be fine with that. Actually, he would probably prefer it. Something tells him that Maddy Shannon has fought for her life before. And that thought scares him.
Elisabeth Shannon regards him for a moment, eyeing him curiously. Finally, after a few tense seconds, she releases a breath and glances towards her daughters sleeping form. "I suppose so," she says in a sigh. "But I have a feeling I already know what it is."
She is not stupid. But he already knew that. "Earlier," he swallows and tries to be as nonchalant as possible. "When I first brought Maddy in, you said 'not again'." He glances to her and she is looking directly at him and for some reason he cannot bring himself to finish the question.
He doesn't have to.
"You want to know what I meant by that?" She says and it is not a question but a statement.
He nods slowly and doesn't say anything.
Doctor Shannon glances to the floor and licks her lips. "Well about—," she brushes hair out of her eye in a gesture he has noticed means she's talking about something that deeply bothers her. "—About eight months ago, back in 2149, Maddy came home from school and she was coughing up blood." Her voice gets caught in her throat for a second, a split second, but he still notices it. "She had to be hospitalized," Elisabeth shakes her head and looks to the ground. "I was so scared…" Swallowing, she takes a moment to compose herself. "It turns out her rebreather hadn't been filtering properly," she rolls her eyes, "for God knows how long. And you know—you know that thing they say about frogs? How if you—put them in a frying pan and turn up the heat slowly enough they'll just stay there until they die." She looks at him now, disgust and desperation in her eyes. "Well that was me." She smiles sadly and looks to the floor. And he wonders if she's avoiding his eyes because she feels like she's let him down somehow, let him down because she couldn't prevent what happened to Maddy. "Yeah," she says slowly, eyes still downcast. "I hadn't realized how bad things had gotten until…"she trails off and shakes her head. "…until I was sitting by Maddy's bedside watching a machine…breath for her."
He swallows and can't seem to take a breath. His hand moves of its own accord and he finds himself grasping onto Maddy's warm hand for all he's worth. Because this girl lying in this bed is probably the strongest woman he will ever encounter (Wash comes a close second).
"We had to do psychological profiles before we were cleared to come here." Elisabeth looks to him. "The man interviewing me asked that if we were cleared, would we accept the recruitment offer. If I would have no reservations about leaving." She shrugs and smiles sadly. "I say that at least here, we have a fighting chance." She trails off and looks back to Maddy. "Here, we have a future."
"I envy you for being able to think that," he murmurs. "It's just," he shrugs and doesn't take his eyes off of Maddy's peaceful face. "Things like this—things like this make me question this place, you know?"
He doesn't look to Elisabeth Shannon. He can say what he thinks as long as he doesn't look at her. There's something about knowing that someone is watching you that censors your mind. The eye contact freezes your personal thoughts and numbs your tongue, pushing you towards what your observer wants to hear. And right now, he feels that he owes Doctor Shannon some sort of insight into what he's feeling. The striped version of Mark Reynolds. Because this situation—almost losing Maddy—it nearly killed him.
"This place isn't so bad," There is a hint of a smile to her lips and he sneaks a glance towards her. The next words that come out of her mouth, dear God do they almost bring tears to his eyes. "After all, Mark, it gave Maddy you."
Whatever creature that stole his breath away batter give it back in a second, because he needs to breathe. The words, well they freeze his lungs and make his eyes grow wide.
Elisabeth laughs softly and there is a small hit of sadness to it. "Maddy was always—gifted. She excelled in school in 2149. She was whip smart. Intelligent. I was so proud of her." She pauses and looks to Maddy's face, shaking her head. "But she never had any friends. Real friends. She was alone." Doctor Shannon turns to him then, eyes dark. "She still had us, obviously, but," she shakes her head again. "It wasn't enough. She tried to hide the loneliness with fake smiles, but I could see right through them. Then we came here and, well, after the first day, I just knew something had changed." Elisabeth smiles, "I saw her right after she had talked to you, and she—she was glowing. I'd never seen her look that way before." The mother locks with his eyes, "So, thank you, Mark, for giving Maddy something I could not. Happiness."
"I'd imagine Helen of Troy looked something like your daughter," He says. He doesn't know why he says it. Or why that fact would make remotely any sense to the mother. It's more of like a word vomit. Like how his brain-mouth censor doesn't seem to work anymore. But he is thankful that someone finally gets it. Get's that his feelings, they aren't some puppy dog love. They are real, true and the most certain thing he has been sure of in a long—long—time. "The first time I ever saw her, it was…" he shakes his head, "…Well, I don't know, it just seemed natural to be around her. Like we had waited our whole lives to finally meet. Like fate." He shudders at the ultra feminine word. "But yeah, like fate."
Elisabeth looks at him again, eyes scanning. Then the grin is twitching across her face, her eyes starting to get that little sparkle that Maddy's have. She seems to know that he was going to be something important to her daughter. Because the smile is twisted with a little edge of smugness. Bragging, maybe? An 'about-time-he-admitted-it-to-me-but-I-already-knew' smile. And Mark wonders that if the little sparkle he sees in Maddy's eyes is the same thing. That she knew he was it. That he was the one. And he wonders if his eyes betrayed him as well. Because the moment he met Maddy Shannon, he knew he'd say I do.
"Helen of Troy, the face that sunk a thousand ships?" Elisabeth says with a smile. "The Iliad, if I'm not mistaken, is one of the oldest known epic romance stories."
He lets out a laugh. She's poking fun at him.
Scratching the back of his head, he returns the smile. "It's also one of the first epic poems about war, Doctor Shannon. I had to read it in training."
She lets out a small disbelieving laugh and shakes her head. She looks to her daughter again, and Mark understands that she's checking if Maddy's chest is rising. Checking to see if she is still breathing.
Maddy will live. It's just the fact that she was almost gone. And if you almost lose something important, you will protect it and watch over it for all you're worth after you get it back.
Before Mark can say anything else, Jim Shannon is opening the door to the clinic room, eyes scanning. He enters, trailed by Josh and then Zoe, who seems somewhat hesitant. The youngest Shannon finds her sleeping sister and then diverts her eyes to the ground.
Mark knows guilt when he sees it. And the littlest Shannon has it written all over her face.
"How is she?" Jim asks.
Elisabeth smiles up to her husband and plants a kiss on his lips when he leans down to her. "Better," she sighs. "She's sleeping right now."
"Mark." Jim nods his head.
Mark gets to his feet and steps back so the father can sit down. "Sir."
Jim sits and motions to the end table next to Maddy's bed. "You want to put the flowers over there, Zoe?"
The youngest Shannon nods and walks slowly to the table, placing the glass vase on the top and looking quickly to her sister. She drops her eyes almost immediately and turns around, shoulders shuddering.
"Whoa, Whoa," Jim slides to his knees in from of his youngest child. "Why are you crying? Your sisters going to be find."
"It's my fault Maddy got hurt," Zoe sniffles. "If I had…" she trails off as tears stream down her cheeks.
"No, no." Jim shakes his head, cupping her cheeks and wiping away the tears with the pads of his thumbs. "Your sister does not blame you."
"But it's my fault. She got hurt protecting me."
"Maddy did what she had to because she loved you," Elisabeth says softly. "I would have done the same thing."
"I would have too," Josh says, ruffling Zoe's hair. "Couldn't let anything happen to my little sis."
Mark shifts in the background. For some reason, he feels that he shouldn't be here. This is a family affair. And he is not family.
Then there is a noise, and it is quite possibly the best thing any of them has ever heard.
A small sigh. That's all it is. But it is sweat music because before Mark can prepare himself, Maddy's eyes are opening and her fingers are twitching with consciousness.
"Do you guys mind," she whispers, though there is a smile spreading across her lips. "I'm trying to get some sleep."
"Maddy!" Zoe exclaims, shooting forward and wrapping her arms around her sister's neck.
"Nice to see you too," Maddy says, grimacing. "But broken ribs, Zo. You're gonna have to go easy on me."
Zoe pulls away, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry."
Maddy grins. "Don't worry about it. I'm glad to see you're okay."
Elisabeth leans forward and kisses her daughter on the forehead before she pulls up Maddy's data pad. Jim and Josh swoop in with smiles and light kisses.
"How do you feel?" The mother asks.
Maddy lies still for a moment. "Not good," she admits. "I can't remember," she scrunches her eyes up. "Much of anything, actually."
Elisabeth nods in understanding. "That would be the concussion."
"Yeah, no more hits to the head, sis." Josh smiles with masked relief. "It would be a shame to lose your brilliance. Imagine, after today you might actually be," he pauses and looks around, like he's about to tell her a secret and leans close, "Normal."
Maddy fakes a laugh. "I see the circumstances haven't taken away your humor," she says softly with a smile.
Mark chooses then to slip out the door, perfectly content with letting the Shannon family have their moment. He'll get to see Maddy later—
"Mark?" Jim Shannon has cut off his escape. The father shuts the clinic door softly behind him and turns to Mark with questioning eyes. "Where are you going?"
Out of reflex Mark's hands slip behind his back and he stands straighter. "You need to have time with her. She needs time with her family…"
Jim notices Mark's stance and flinches slightly. "Look, about before, I didn't mean to get angry at you."
Mark shakes his head, looking to the floor. "No, no. I understand—"
"No," Jim cuts him off. "No, I didn't understand." He shakes his head and scratches the back of his neck. He opens his mouth like he's going to say something, thinks better, and then glances up, blue eyes shining. He motions to the space between Mark and the clinic door. "This thing that you have with my daughter. I didn't want to believe it at first. I mean, she's only sixteen, you're—" he pauses and scrunches his eyes up in thought. "Actually, how old are you?"
Before Mark can answer, Jim is cutting himself off, shaking his head. "Never mind. That doesn't matter. What does matter are your feelings towards my daughter. And I was—well I didn't want to believe it. I mean, Maddy, she's my little girl—"
"And when she told you she might like me, you knew that it was the beginning of her growing up. That one day, she'd put you on the sidelines altogether." Mark finishes. He knows the feeling all too well.
Jim's questioning eyes make him smile. "I had a sister," Mark divulges to the surprise of Jim. "back in 2144. Let's see," he squints and thinks back, "she was about seven-eight when she first told me she had a crush on a boy at school. It was…"
"Surprising," Jim finishes. "And frightening as hell all at the same time. You'd never thought the day would come."
Mark nods. "Here she was, growing up right in front of me, and I hadn't even noticed."
Jim fixes him with this kind of scanning look. Like the father is trying to get over his parental urges and consider the feelings of his daughter. Finally, Jim sighs. "You have my permission to eventually," he points a non-threatening finger at Mark, "eventually ask for my daughters hand in marriage. These past couple of hours have really put things into perspective for me, and I can't deny my daughter the first true good thing she's had in her life. So, this proposal will happen only after we, the Shannon family, are finally settled here at Terra Nova and you two have dated for at least two years. She'll be eighteen then, and however much it frightens me, be in complete control of her life." He pauses for emphasis. "Are we clear?"
Mark is too stunned to answer. So he numbly nods his head. Then his mouth opens and word vomit attempts to roll off his tongue. "Sir, I would—"
Jim smiles and slaps Marks arm, then places a firm hand on Mark's back and directs him towards the door to Maddy's room. "Yeah, I know Reynolds. I know."
Before they enter, Jim Shannon freezes, hand wrapped around the door handle.
Mark looks to the father and finds blue eyes staring right back at him.
"Thank you, Mark," Jim says seriously, "For saving me daughter's life."
But again, before Mark can reply, Jim is opening the door and declaring with a smile, "Look who I found sulking outside!"
Mark is pushes through the door and he swears he can't feel his hands because Maddy Shannon is smiling brilliantly at him, eyes shining.
He grins so wide he's surprised his cheeks don't hurt. And then Maddy is opening her right hand in a motion that tells him she wants to hold his hand. Now. Who is he to deny her what she wants?
Mark is at her bedside in an instant, swooping down and planting a kiss on her forehead. He places a hand against her cheek and can't stop smiling. "Hey."
Maddy smiles right back. "Hey."
In that moment nothing else mattered except that Maddy Shannon is alive and Mark Reynolds is at her side.
A/N: So this chapter was originally going to be the end, but I figured there was so much angst in this that I needed to end on a happy note. So the next chapter is the last one, and full of Maddy/Mark fluff. You have been warned. Fluff like it's so adorable it's kind of nauseating. Until next time! Oh, and next time will probably be at the start of the new year. Sorry, but Christmas and New Years trumps writing for me. I wish it wasn't so, but my mother hates it when I hold up in my room and write all day.
