Thank you amazing readers and reviewers. Almost there with this fic, I think. A couple more chapters after this one should do it. I hope you are still enjoying it!


Will woke around lunchtime. He came awake on high alert, grabbing for Mackenzie, but she was draped over his chest, in the deep sleep of the truly exhausted. He eased her gently back onto her side of the bed. He wanted her to sleep for as long as possible. She stirred a little, and he nudged his pillow closer to her. She cuddled it to her chest, and sighed as she slipped back into sleep. He couldn't help but smile. She seemed so young sometimes, despite all her hard news experience.

The light was streaming brightly in through the floor to ceiling windows, so he pulled the blinds as he shrugged into his robe.

Once in the kitchen, he started the coffee maker and rummaged around in the fridge for something to tempt Mac's appetite when she woke. She hadn't eaten since breakfast yesterday, and it was starting to worry him.

He make her a fresh fruit salad and topped it with her favorite Greek yogurt. He whipped up some batter for French bread, ready to go for when she woke up. He took comfort in the routine tasks—it was better to concentrate on the food than dwell on the events of the night before.

Mac wandered into the kitchen just as he was frying the first piece of French toast. Her cheek looked awful this morning, and she was moving even more carefully than the night before. His gut twisted. He had far too many memories of his mother walking just like that after a bad beating.

"Sore?" he asked sympathetically.

She groaned. "I think I was running on adrenaline last night, but now everything just hurts. A lot."

He pulled her into a hug. "My poor darling. If you like, I can send out for some Arnica ointment to rub into the bruises. It helps a lot. Warm baths are good too, but not too hot or it makes the bruising worse. And if you can move around a little, your arms and legs won't stiffen up as much."

She looked up at him, surprised. "How do you know so much about—?"

He saw the sadness in her eyes as she figured it out.

"Oh Billy. I don't know how you survived it, let alone came out the other end as a whole person. It was only a day and a night for me, but it was your whole childhood."

He shook his head. "Don't compare the two. It's not the same."

"No, it's worse. It wasn't personal for me. They were strangers, they just wanted the money—"

And other things, Will thought, but didn't say.

"But it was your own father hurting you."

"Don't think about it now," Will said. He didn't really talk about his childhood with anyone, not even Mackenzie. "Let's just focus on getting you better. Oh shit, the toast!"

The smell of burning egg filled the kitchen. He let go of Mac and grabbed for the fry-pan.

"Sorry love, I think that one's only fit for the trash. Sit down, I'll make you another one."

Mac didn't eat a great deal, but she did manage a bit of the fruit and a piece of the toast. Will didn't push her; it was probably hurting her to chew.

Will checked their phones while she ate. They had lots of messages and missed calls, but most of them could wait.

"Charlie rang to see how you were," he told her. "Your folks called too. They sound pretty frantic."

Mac frowned. "Could you call them back and reassure them for me? I'm not really up to talking to anyone right now."

"Of course. What are you going to do?"

She shrugged. "I guess reading the paper is out. And the TV news too."

"I'm pretty sure we'll be the lead story for the next few days," he agreed.

Mac wrapped her bandaged arms around herself. Will was used to the attention that came with being a public figure, but he knew how much Mac hated being in the news. She'd had more than her fill of it with the whole Genoa debacle.

"C'mon, why don't you get comfy on the couch with a Jane Austen? I'll bring your coffee."

"Okay," said Mac. "I have to do something until the FBI come to take my statement." She didn't look too thrilled about that either.

Will got Mac settled on the couch with a throw rug, a bunch of pillows and her battered copy of Emma. He kissed her on the forehead and then went to the kitchen to clean up breakfast. When he came back fifteen minutes later to check on her, he noticed that she was still on the first page of the book.

"Mac, sweetheart, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just tired," she said, shutting the book and putting it on the coffee table. "Sit with me for a while?"

"Of course." He raised her up a little and sat down on the couch, lowering her head back into his lap. She turned her face towards his stomach and wrapped an arm around his waist.

He stroked her hair softly, and gradually felt her body relax against his. Her breathing evened out, and she slept.

He was amazed that she was sleeping so well—both of them tended towards insomnia, especially in times of stress. Still, she must have burned about a month's worth of cortisol and adrenaline in the last twenty-four hours, so maybe it was to be expected.

The intercom buzzed a short while later. Damn. Not the FBI already. He wanted Mac to rest, and he definitely didn't want her to have to rehash the nightmare events of yesterday just yet.

He slid out from under Mac and crossed to the intercom.

"Hello?"

"Will? It's Lonny Church."

"Lonny! You're our security detail?"

"Yeah. Well not just me, because Charlie Skinner ordered 24/7 protection for you two, but I'm in charge. Don't worry, I'll only pick guys that I've worked with before, guys that I trust."

"Thanks Lonny. I really appreciate that, and I know Mac will too."

"How is she?"

"About as well as could be expected, I guess. She's sleeping at the moment."

"Jim Harper's here. He wants to come up and see her."

"Tell him no visitors for today. Maybe tomorrow."

"Hang on." There was a minute of silence, and then Lonny came back to the intercom. "He's insisting on coming up."

Insisting? That didn't sound like the Jim Harper that Will knew. "Put him on."

"Hi Will, it's Jim. Look, I'm sorry, I don't mean to intrude—well actually, I do mean to intrude, but only for a little bit. I need to see Mac."

"I'm sorry, kid. I know you two are close, but she's just not up to visitors today."

"I'm not a visitor."

"Excuse me?"

"I said, I'm not a visitor. I sat by her hospital bed for a week after the stabbing, and she helped hold me down while an army medic dug shrapnel out of my butt. I'm not a visitor."

Will ran his hand through his hair. "I don't want her upset."

There was a long silence; long enough for Will to recall all the times he'd deliberately hurt or humiliated Mac in the newsroom while Jim looked on.

"Okay, I heard how ridiculous that sounded. You can come up for a minute, but just be quiet. She's asleep."

The elevator doors opened shortly after and Jim stepped out. Will pointed to the couch where Mac was sleeping.

Jim stood over her for a long minute, his face inscrutable, before bending down and tenderly kissing her hair.

Will motioned him into the kitchen.

"How badly is she hurt?" Jim asked bluntly.

"The doctor didn't make her go to the hospital. She might have some cracked ribs, and she's covered in bruises. The kidnappers tied her arms and legs and then pushed her down the stairs."

Jim closed his eyes, as though in pain. "What else?"

"Her wrists are a mess. I haven't asked her how they got so bad, but she obviously fought against the ropes pretty hard."

"That sounds like Mac. How is she, you know, mentally?"

"I don't know. Quiet, subdued, clingy. Not at all like the Mac we're used to. But the doctor said she was holding it together amazingly well in the circumstances." Will remembered something that Jim had said earlier. "What was she like after the stabbing?"

Jim shrugged. "I dunno. She was pretty out of it on pain meds for the first couple of days, and calling for you a lot—"

Will winced.

"But once she knew where she was, she was kinda normal. Joking about the stabbing, wanting to get out of bed so that she could chase the next big story. She was a bit more cautious once we got back in the field, not quite so ready to throw herself into danger, but she was still Mac."

"This is different, though," said Will. "What they did to her—I'm glad they're dead, but then again I'm not, because I want to kill them myself."

Jim just nodded. "I'll go now. Thanks for letting me come up. I needed to see her."

"I understand," said Will, reaching out to shake Jim's hand.

After Jim left, Will called Mac's parents and talked them down from getting on the first plane to New York. He knew Mac wouldn't appreciate the fussing. He rang the pharmacy too and ordered in a supply of bandages, ointment and painkillers. Then he wandered aimlessly around the apartment. It was only Tuesday, and Charlie had told him to stay off the air until at least the following Monday. He didn't want to leave the apartment and the safe bubble that he was trying to create around Mac, but that didn't mean he knew what to do with himself either. He and Mac weren't used to spending much time at home during daylight hours.

The intercom buzzed again later in the afternoon, and this time it woke Mac up. It was Agent Jones and Agent Tanner. They wanted to take Mac's statement. Will tried to refuse, but Mac touched him gently on the shoulder. "It's okay, Will. They can come up."

Mac thanked the Agents for rescuing her, and showed them through into the study. Will tried to join them. "I'm her attorney as well as her husband," he told them, clutching at straws. "You can't deny her legal representation."

"Will, it's okay," she said, eyes pleading. "I'd rather do this alone."

He remembered the doctor's words from the night before, about it being easier for Mac to hurt without him there to see it. She was probably right. With one notable exception, which was now behind them, Mac was always so careful of his feelings, so attuned to anything that might hurt him. He gave in, but not with good grace.

"I don't want her upset," he told the agents with a glare. "And no more than half an hour. She's exhausted, and injured." He turned to Mac with a softer tone. "I'll be right outside. All you have to do is call out if you need me."

She gave him a wan smile and sat down at the table with the Agents. One of them placed a tape recorder in front of her, and Will reluctantly left them to it, closing the door behind him. He set the kitchen timer for thirty minutes, and paced up and down the hallway.

The little that he knew of what had happened to her was almost unbearable to him, and now she was having to rehash the whole thing in front of two complete strangers, without anyone there to support her. What if she broke down? Would they call him? He strained his ears, but could only hear voices talking softly. He couldn't make out what they were saying.

As soon as the timer went off, he pounded on the door. "That's enough," he called. "You've had your half hour. You need to stop now."

Agent Jones opened the door. "Okay, okay, we were just finishing up."

Will pushed past him to get to Mac. She was white as a sheet, and tears were pooling in her wide eyes, although she wasn't exactly crying. She stood carefully as he entered and he put a protective arm around her shoulders. He could feel the fine tremors shaking her body. He wanted to yell at the Agents for upsetting her, but he forced it down. These were the guys who had rescued Mac, after all.

"Thanks Mackenzie," said Agent Tanner. "You're very observant, and you have amazing recall."

"She works in the news," Will pointed out.

"I know. I only wish we were half so lucky with most of our witnesses." Will appreciated the fact that he wasn't using the word victim. "We'll get your statement typed up and have it couriered around tomorrow for you to sign, if that's okay with you?"

"That's fine," Mac said quietly. "Thank you both for everything that you did to get me out of there."

"It was a pleasure, Mackenzie," Agent Jones said, smiling at her just a little too warmly. "You did most of it yourself."

Will rolled his eyes. God, did every guy that she met have to fall under her spell? She was completely oblivious to it most of the time, and Will could never decide whether to be jealous or just really proud that she had chosen him.

Will showed the Agents out and then went back to the study, but Mac wasn't there. He searched the apartment and finally found her curled up in their bed, under the comforter. She was shaking like crazy now.

"Mac, sweetheart?" He touched her shoulder, and her skin was cold as ice.

"Billy, I'm so scared," she said between chattering teeth.

Damn. He knew he shouldn't have left her alone with the Agents.

"It's okay Mac, I'm here, I won't let anyone hurt you." Pausing only to kick off his shoes, he climbed into bed with her and wrapped his body around hers. He held her for a long time before sleep claimed her once more.