MacKenzie slides down the wall to settle into a seated position. Across from her, Will grits his teeth, follows her down and winces as the grab bar digs into his shoulder.
"Shoulder still bothering you?" she asks casually.
"No," he lies.
They sit quietly together, each lost in their own thoughts, oppressed by the events of the day.
MacKenzie is the first to break the silence. She's got a captive audience and she knows it's now or never.
"Will?" she says quietly. "Can we talk?"
"I've got nothing better to do," he says casually. "You gonna tell me the real reason you came here today? Or why you had a full-blown panic attack in a situation you would have laughed at three years ago?"
"The second one's easy," she said simply. "I didn't exactly come back from Afghanistan unscathed."
She hopes he understands where she's going with this because how to explain the PTSD, the fact that the slightest emotional upset can send her into a full-blown panic attack, complete with uncontrollable crying?
"I heard about –" the stabbing, he wants to say, but can't.
"I have PTSD, Will."
His face registers shock, so she quickly tries to make light of it.
"It's no big deal – it just means I don't always know how I'm going to react in any given situation. It usually manifests in long crying jags but – I never really know how it's going to go," she says quietly.
"I'm sorry," he says. "It must have been horrendous for you – "
"I'm fine, Bil – Will. I'd rather not talk about that if you don't mind."
He looks at her thoughtfully for a moment, but she doesn't know what he's thinking.
"OK," he says. "And the answer to the first question?"
"Let's just lay it all on the line, shall we? I broke it off with George (with whom I've only ever had a strictly platonic relationship, by the way) because I am in love with somebody else. I came here to find out if that love is purely one-sided."
He stops listening after the "platonic relationship" part.
Does she actually expect him to believe she had a platonic relationship with her boyfriend?
Bullshit.
"Strictly platonic – right."
He knows he is being completely and utterly irrational but he simply cannot abide the thought that she has been dating other men – in any capacity.
"Is that all you have to say?"
"Listen, Mac – If you expect me to believe that you - you" he chuckles mirthlessly – "had a platonic relationship with Mr. FaceTime…"
"Why? Because I'm a tramp?"
"What? No! Because – you – you -"
Because you're the most sensuous woman I have ever known and there is just no fucking way...
"Look, I'm just not buying it. Christ, do you think I'm an idiot?"
"Do you really want me to answer that question?"
Nothing.
"Will, did you hear the other thing I said?"
"Yeah, you said you had a strictly platonic relationship with George. What I don't understand is why you think I give a shit."
"Can you please put the other Will on the line?" she says, suddenly exhausted.
"Which Will is that?" he says, with sudden venom. "The pussy? The one you cheated on?"
Ignoring him, she repeats, "Did you hear the other thing I said? The reason I broke up with George?"
"No. I wasn't listening. Sorry - I get a little crazy when I hear about...Never mind. But anyway, why should I give two fucks why you broke up with George? It's nothing to me."
She tries again.
"Is the Will who rescued me from the reporters available?"
"Sorry to disappoint you, Sweetheart, but there's only one Will - there may be a couple hangers-on but I'm the one running the show."
"What about the one who held me in the car?"
Christ, she's got a lot of nerve. She wants the one who can't say no to her. The one who will take any amount of bullshit. The one who has no self-respect. Fuck that, Sweetheart. And fuck you.
He turns on her viciously.
"Oh, I get it. You want to speak to the pussy. The one you can manipulate. The one who will believe your lies."
Jesus Christ, what has happened to you? Where is Will and what have you done with him?
"Do you actually believe any part of the bullshit that's coming out of your mouth right now?" she asks.
That's rich. Coming from you.
"What do you want from me, MacKenzie? You waltzed out my life three years ago..."
"You threw me out!" she retorts.
"Yeah - because you cheated on me!" he roars.
The sound is deafening. It explodes out of his throat and ricochets around the elevator. She nearly jumps out of her skin.
All of a sudden it's three years ago and he's as raw and exposed as the night she told him.
"Don't pretend you don't know why I threw you out," he snarls.
He struggles to put a padlock on his feelings, to bury them beneath his customary veneer of contempt but the pain is too sharp and the cut too deep to allow for subterfuge. He ends up revealing far more than he intends.
"Do you think I wanted to throw you out, MacKenzie?" he says angrily, his voice cracking. "Do you think it was easy for me to throw you out? To throw out the future I thought we had together?"
"Billy -"
"Don't," he says, putting his hand out in warning. "Just - don't."
Why did you have to come here? To remind me of how much I lost? To rub my nose in it? And then you pretend I had a choice? Don't you dare be glib about this, MacKenzie. Don't you fucking dare.
He's surprised to feel hot tears streaming down his face.
Which only makes him angrier.
He detonates.
"Do you have any idea how fucking happy I was when we were together?" he screams, his face purple with rage. "Do you? I loved you, MacKenzie. I loved you. More than I've ever loved anyone in my life. But you didn't love me. You could never have done it if you did. You left me no choice but to throw you out. And I have regretted it every second of every day since you left. But I didn't have a choice. You threw it away, MacKenzie and I have to live with it."
"Will," she cries. "I'm so sorry -"
She puts her hands on his back but he angrily shrugs her off.
"Save it."
The rage in his eyes is back and her own anger starts to build.
You love me. I love you. Why the fuck do you insist on wallowing in the past when we can fix this?
"Will," she says firmly. "Look at me. Please - look at me."
Reluctantly, he turns his head and she wipes the tears from his cheeks.
"We can fix this. You know we can."
He shakes his head and looks down at the carpet.
"I can't - MacKenzie. I can't trust you."
He's closed himself off again. When she looks into his eyes, they're cold, dark and contemptuous.
It's hopeless. We are not coming back from this. Ever.
And then she's crying and Jesus Christ, here comes another panic attack. Isn't one per day enough?
She can't breathe.
"I need to get out of here," she says and struggles to her feet.
"Just settle down - it won't be long now. They're working on it."
"I can't, I can't, I can't," she says. "I have to - get - out - of - here," she gasps.
The fog of his rage clears the instant he sees the panic in her eyes.
She's wildly pressing the Talk button but it's hard and flat instead of raised.
Why isn't it working?
She feels him come up behind her, put his hand gently over hers and guide her index finger to the actual Talk button.
"It's this one, Kenz. Focus on your breathing," he says as calmly as he can, though he's close to hysteria himself. "I'll call down."
What the fuck has happened to us? he thinks.
She shoves him away from her as hard as she can, sending him sprawling.
She presses the button once, twice, three times.
No response.
She tries again.
Nothing.
"Please – I need - to - get out of here," she says into the speaker anyway. "Help - me. I can't - breathe."
This has spiralled completely out of control and he has to fix it. Fast.
He gets to his feet, approaches her warily and says as calmly as he can, "They must be on a break, Mac. I'm here, I'll help you. Let me help you."
He reaches for her, tries to draw her against his chest. It had calmed her earlier in the day, right?
"Get away from me, Will -" she chokes out, hitting his chest.
"I hate - you - you - say - you - love - me - but - you - won't - let - me - fix - it - " she says, with all the venom she can muster given her sputtering voice.
"You're a – - smug - cruel – bas - tard and I hate you! I hate you!" she shrieks and then she's sobbing uncontrollably.
He recoils, horrified, then takes a step toward her.
"Let me help you, Mac. Shhh, shhhh, you're okay, you're okay. I've got you."
He tries to draw her to him again.
"This helped earlier, right?" he repeats. "Let me help you, Mac. Please let me help you."
"No...no…no…" she sobs.
She's hyperventilating now.
She can't breathe.
She hates him.
He hates her.
She can't breathe.
She can't breathe.
She can't breathe.
She doesn't have a choice.
She lets him.
He draws her down into his lap and starts stroking and kissing her hair, trying every calming trick in the book he remembers from their life together.
"Follow me, sweetheart, in...out...in...out...breathe...that's it. You've got this."
"I want - this - Will," she chokes out.
Tears spring to his eyes but he keeps going, trying to help her focus, trying keep her calm.
Still sobbing, she does her best to mirror his breathing.
Gradually, slowly, she gets her breath back and then she's crying again.
"I - want - this - Will," she sobs.
"I – want – this – Will."
He has no idea what the fuck has happened to them - or to him - but he knows he is the only one who can fix this.
"I'm here," he murmurs into her ear. "I'm here."