AN – I have a head canon that Mackenzie's biggest fear is being buried alive, and as such is scared of dark, cramped spaces. Enjoy.
Dark Thoughts in a Dark Room
The incessant howl of the wind outside kept Mackenzie from sleep. It was too loud to be a white noise and the occasional squeaks and creaks of the building settling didn't help either. He opened his eyes and couldn't tell a difference. All he saw was an inky, black void, as if his eyes were still closed. He pulled the blankets tighter around him. They had a musty smell, but they were something.
The old substation he was in had a few good items – a tin of gunpowder for making noisemakers, another pair of wool socks, a storm lantern, a couple cans of food, and a water bottle. There was a hacksaw with the workbench out back, but he didn't have need for it, and he already had enough to carry.
He shifted on the mattress, trying to keep from rolling onto his left side. That side of his face was still tender, despite the days it had been from when Mathis had gotten him. It would leave a scar, he knew that, though the bruising had faded to a yellow last he had dressed the wound. If he ever got back to the mainland, he'd have to go get his head checked after all that had happened so far.
His eyes opened again, rolling onto his back. The wind died down, and there was nothing but quiet. The darkness was suffocating, and the room felt like a tomb.
Tomb.
Suddenly, everything was too dark – the bed he laid on was confining, he felt a weight deep in his stomach, an unpleasant energy in his limbs and his mind began to feel frantic.
He exhaled sharply, clenching his fists and curling his toes in his boots.
You are in a building. You can get up and leave at any time. You are not in immediate danger.
He repeated this to himself for a minute. The nervous energy lessened, and the pit in his stomach faded slightly. He pushed the covers off and planted his feet on the floor as he sat up, reaching down to his rucksack he had found. From one of the side pockets he pulled a box of matches and retrieved one from it.
He lit it, and it gave off a soft glow, though bright enough he could see the wall to his side, and the darkness in front of him, just able to make out the desk chair.
You're fine. You're in a building.
His eyes scanned the darkness and what he could see, then looking back at the match.
The soft, glowing flicker of fire was comforting, though brought to mind a memory from long ago.
He saw Astrid, sitting across him, a candle on the table. Her chin rested in her palm, a warm smile on her face.
His fingertips burned.
"Ah!" He exclaimed, dropping the match. The glow of fire vanished as it fell, leaving him in the dark again. For a moment, he just sat still. The memory floated to the front of his mind again, and his shoulders dropped.
Not again.
A sigh escaped him, and he put his head in his hands.
…Just…let it take its course. Get it done and over with.
He dropped the matches, laid back down, and pulled the covers back.
In his mind, the memory of Astrid was there, both of them sitting at the table in her apartment, bowls of soup before them. The power had gone out in the middle of the movie they had been watching, and thankfully, the soup had already finished cooking. She had seen the movie before, but refused to tell him the rest.
"But we had just gotten to the climax!" Will told her.
"And?" Astrid asked.
"I can't wait a week." He told her. "It's a good movie!"
"That's why I won't tell you." She said, smiling smugly.
"What if I ask nicely?" He asked her.
"You won't get anything from me." She told him. He sighed, hanging his head. He heard a snrk, and knew she was trying not to laugh. Lifting his head, he put his hands together and put his chin on his palms, his beard brushing against his hands.
"Pleeease?" He asked, fluttering his eyelashes.
Astrid burst into laughter, covering her mouth with her hands. He just smiled, and one of her arms rested back on the table, her laughter dissolving to a chortle.
"Ha, I got a laugh from you." He told her. Her shoulders hunched as she tried not laugh again, instead taking a deep breath. She straightened up, looking at him and trying not to laugh.
"…" She sat there, then pointed at him. He just raised his brows, smiling at her. Her lips pressed together, and her shoulders jumped, trying not to laugh. He fluttered his lashes again and she broke into laughter again. At this, he smiled, showing his teeth that stood out against the brown hair of his beard. Between her laughs, she was gasping, though when she lifted her head again, she was still smiling widely.
The memory passed, another taking its place.
Summer, at the hanger. He had finished up some work on the plane, putting the front engine cowling back. He wiped his arm across his forehead, sweat beading on his skin. Going to the work table, he took off his work gloves and tossed them down on the top of it, then stretched his arms over head. As he lowered them, he looked at the button-down shirt off to the side of the work space, having put it there earlier from the heat. Now he just had a dark grey, sleeveless undershirt.
He sighed, then looked back at the hanger door. It was open, showing the landing strip outside, the space of grass, and then the tree line. Going to the open doors, he stood in the shadow of the hanger, a pleasant wind rushing over him. With that, it felt cooler outside. Looking off to the side, he started walking alongside the hanger, turning at the corner of it, leaving the shadow and stepping into the sun. Walking to the tree line, he went and sat under one of them, a Douglas-fir tree. His head rested back against the trunk, the wind rushing over him, the branches of the trees above him rustling.
The shade here was pleasantly cooler, his eyes closing. He was winded, stretching his legs out in front of him. After a bit, he felt a doze coming over him, relaxed and still.
Something, a bug he thought, touched his face. He scowled a brief second, and it was gone. It touched back on a different spot, and he tossed his head slightly. It was gone again, and he began to relax once more.
It touched on his forehead, and he waved his hand to get off, opening his eyes.
Kneeling next to him was Astrid, holding a long blade of grass and lips pressed together, a hint of a smile on them.
Will stared at her a moment, then sat up, narrowing his eyes, though smiling.
"I suppose you think that's funny?" He asked.
She did not answer, but just took off running.
"Hey!" He called, on his feet and running after her. His legs were longer, and he began to catch up to her, when she darted off to the side. He turned after her, and ran after her a short distance when she began to turn again. He changed his footing to go after, only for her to change at the last second and go off a different direction, making him skid and redirect himself.
She started to turn again, and he just lunged, getting an arm around her waist and lifting her up. She let out her laughter, hands grabbing his forearm. His other arm wrapped around her and he tucked his head against her ear, rubbing his beard into her neck. Her laughter was a wonderful sound – he couldn't ever hear enough of it.
One of her hands lifted to push his head away, still laughing. Though instead he just took her hand and spun her around, so she faced him, hugging her again. His beard tickled her face, she turning her head away, hands gripping his shirt. She leaned back, he leaning forward to keep close to her.
However, she was notably shorter, and in leaning he was off-balance. His foot pivoted to keep from falling on her, though she just started falling with him. His hand tucked her head into his shoulder protectively and they fell to the ground, Astrid half on him.
She lifted her head, looking at him, though he just broke out into a smile and laughed. Her laughter joined his, moving off of him to lie beside him, one of his hands still holding her head. He felt her hands touch his, his laugher calming and turning his head to look at her.
She just held his hand to her head, gently holding her face. Her eyes closed, a soft smile on her face. His own smile softened, rolling onto his side to face her. His other hand rested on her cheek, her eyes opening to look at him. Her expression was so soft, so tender. He could've just stayed like that, looking at her for hours.
His lips just barely parted, one of her hands reaching out to him and brushing his hair back. Her touch was so gentle.
He thought to test the waters.
He tilted his head towards her, and she reciprocated, touching her forehead to his. They were still for a moment, and he slowly opened his eyes, his hand going to hers, still on his head. He took it gently, and she opened her eyes.
They just stared a moment, expressions slowly softening. He leaned his head towards her. There was a momentary flicker of realization in her eyes, and she moved her head towards him.
Her lips were so warm, so soft…
There was a pleasant warmth in his head, hearing the words "I love you" in his mind.
They separated a moment, and were still. His eyes slowly opened again, seeing she was looking at him. She had an expression that matched the wonder he felt. Her hand left his, going back to his head, and his arm wrapped around her.
They kissed again, the wind rushing through the grass, making it rustle as the warm sun shone in a clear blue sky, a day that he thought of many a time that made him smile for years.
The memory slipped away, another coming to replace it.
He walked down a park trail with Astrid, hand-in-hand. They had just had dinner, though it was still an hour or two until dusk. The trail was a favorite of theirs, going around a large lake, towering trees with red-gold autumn leaves drifting down from their branches, landing on the lake water and floating across its surface.
She leaned against him slightly, her head on his shoulder. He rested his head on hers, faintly able to pick up her scent, one of clean clothes and soap. They walked a bit, until Astrid moved her head, he lifting his. She stopped and turned, looking out over the lake, and he moved to stand beside her, their hands still together. They were atop a hill, though there were no trees to block the view of the lake.
It was a lovely sight, and they both stood still, taking it in.
He took a deep breath, looking at her.
"Astrid?" He asked. She looked up at him, smiling and eyes soft. The expression never failed to make his whole demeanor relax. He smiled softly, turning to face her and taking her other hand.
They just stared softly at each other a moment. He lifted a hand, gently holding her face. She leaned into his touch.
"I love you." He told her. She looked up at him, her eyes soft. "You're smart. You're strong, a fighter. You're kind, compassionate…"
He trailed off, just staring at her loving expression.
"…Astrid." He said. She lifted her head, and he pulled his hand back. He kneeled down, his hands going to his pocket. Her eyes widened, looking surprised.
He pulled out a small box, opening it to show an engagement ring. She broke out into a big smile, hands going up to her mouth.
"Will you marry me?" He asked.
She was quiet, though her hands lowered, showing she was still smiling. She nodded.
"Yes…yes!" She said. He started to stand, though she beat him and kneeled down with him, taking his head and kissing him. He hugged her, deepening it, and for a moment, they were in their own little world, everything else falling away.
When they separated, he took her hand and slipped the ring on her finger. He held her hand for a moment, looking at the ring, then up at her, seeing her brilliant smile – she looked so happy she could cry. She looked up at him, and there were in fact tears starting to form.
At the sight, he broke out into a big smile and scooped her up, on his feet and spinning around, hugging her tightly. Her arms were around his neck, both of them letting out a joyous laughter.
He put his foot down, feeling it slip some.
He set her down quickly, and then fell, rolling down the hill.
"Will!" Astrid called. He kept his eyes closed, but felt the ground under him as he rolled over and over on his side, until he reached the bottom and stopped. His eyes blinked open, and he sat up, his head still spinning a bit. He heard rapid footfall, looking up to see Astrid running down to him.
He blinked, eyes squeezed shut, then rapidly blinked for a second. His head slowed to a stop, the spinning over.
"Will?" Astrid asked. He looked at her, seeing she was surprised.
"…And I thought I couldn't fall any farther for you." He said.
She broke into a smile, hugging him and he hugged her back, kissing her cheek.
"Good thing you're marrying a doctor." She told him.
"I'm marrying the most wonderful woman I've ever know." He said.
The memory faded, and several rushed into his mind like water from a broken dam.
He remembered waking up, Astrid in his arms and curled up against him.
Moving into their first house, laughing over the bad fortunes from their takeout.
Rain pelting down outside, a fire crackling in the fireplace as they just slowly danced together, her head on his chest and his arms around her.
Coming home from a flight late at night to find her asleep on the couch, the smell of a batch of freshly made brownies wafting from the kitchen. She wore her robe, indicating she had a certain welcome waiting for him, had she been awake.
Her coming home from a long, busy shift at the hospital, exhausted from it, though her eyes lit up when she saw the hot food on the table, Will smiling at her. She fell asleep as he massaged her feet, the relief wonderful, and he tucked her in, gently cupping her face.
Around one Halloween, she burst into laughter at seeing him wearing a fake mustache over his real one, along with a pair of those novelty glasses with the slinky eyes.
She was with him, hugging him as he wept, having heard news of his father's passing. The time after, she was an anchor of sorts, doing what she could for him during his mourning. After he had come to terms with it, there was never anything he could do to thank her – she deserved all he could give her and more.
He held her as she stood leaning against him somberly, a dim look in her eye. He recognized the look as soon as she came in from her shift at the hospital – a young life had passed, all because of unfortunate, preventable circumstances. She needed time to process, and he acted as an anchor of sorts to her during such times, doing what he could.
Being in the kitchen, both their sleep schedules off, his from a series of flights and hers from late shifts, the clock hands pointing to after two in the morning. They just tried new things nights like that, Astrid finishing some kind of whipped cream. She held up a spoon of it for him to try, when she flick the spoon. The fluffy cream hit him square in the face, startling him and she laughed. He just raised a hand to it, scraping t off his face onto his palm. When Astrid lifted her head from laughing, he placed it square on her face. They were both silent a moment, and he lifted his hand, her eyes squeezed shut and her expression making him laugh.
He got home from a flight, going into the kitchen to see her sitting at the table, staring at a manila envelope on the table top, the display down. Sitting beside her, he put his hand over hers. She looked at him. For a moment they just stared, unsure if this attempt was successful. He squeezed her hand. She returned it.
Together, they pulled the envelope towards them, Will opening it and Astrid pulling out the papers. Looking down it, Astrid pointed to a line, reading Last Conception attempt 6 weeks ago and a bit further down, HCG level: 58,349.
Will looked at her, eyes wide. Hers were just as wide, and as she looked at him, a light he had never seen began to glow in them. His face lit up. The papers were dropped, they were hugging, Will up on his feet, holding her up off the ground as they spun around. He suddenly stopped and set her down, looking down at her womb, holding his hands out cautiously, the idea of the baby being harmed by such a thing causing fear to creep over him.
Astrid took his face in her hands and he looked up at her, eyes brimming with tears of joy, lips making the biggest smile he had seen, her face just glowing. He smiled, overjoyed, and hugged her – gently, carefully, but lovingly.
The months after, they would be sitting in the spare room, Will assembling a crib and Astrid reading out names. He was putting together a dresser when Astrid came in, clearly morning sick. They held hands, squeezing them and smiling at being told their child was a boy. Both of them folding baby clothes and storing them in the dresser, a rocking chair off to the side of the crib, which now had a mobile above it, little rabbits, deer, birds and stars hanging from it.
The absolute panic when she suddenly took his hand while they were watching a movie – her water broke. It lasted a moment, and in the next they were on their way.
After, Astrid was resting in the hospital bed, Will sitting in the chair next to it. She woke up, and he took her hand. He smiled at her – everything had gone excellent.
The door opened.
They looked up, the hospital staffer walking to them with the bundle of blue, Astrid reaching her arms out. Gently, carefully, their son was handed to her and she held him close, Will leaning in best he could, his head next to hers. Their son opened his eyes, a sweet baby blue, looking at them.
Both of them teared up. They were so happy.
Their son, asleep in his crib, both of them looking down at him, smiling and standing together. They kept to his schedule, feeding, changing, napping, and playing – he wasn't fussy due to it. A month had passed, Will picking him up from his crib. His little eyes lit up and he held his hands out to him. He recognized him. He was happy to see him. It was a joy unlike any other.
He started to babble. He started reaching for toys. He started to listen to their voices. He started to sit up on his own. When they held him up on his feet, he could stand.
Will was bouncing him on his knee, smiling at his gleeful laughter. Astrid came into the nursery, and he saw her, reaching out his little hands.
"Mama!"
Such little things brought so much joy, it really was incredible.
He learned to point to things. He was standing up on his own.
Will returned home from a flight, announcing his arrival as he entered the house. Astrid came in, holding both of their son's hands. His feet were on hers, and he moved as she walked. Will smiled warmly at the sight, their son looking up at him. His face lit up, he stepped off of Astrid's feet, and his hands slipped out of hers.
They watched intently as he took slow, wobbly steps towards him, Will kneeling down and holding out his arms. His face lit up more, and he reached back, his steps speeding up, though he leaned forward and Will caught him, scooping him up as he stood. He held him close, Astrid coming to them, and he put an arm around her, hugging them both.
Stories before bed were a favorite, reading picture books in silly voices, or just verbal ones with exaggerated, over-the-top movements. His laughter was such a joyous sound – they could never hear it enough.
Will would lie on his back, legs up in the air with him lying on his feet, acting as if he were flying through the air. When they went for walks, he would hoist him up onto his shoulders and carry him. Astrid said he always looked in awe of everything from up there.
He woke up one morning, the thunderstorm in the night having passed. In front of him in his arm was Astrid, their son in hers. His little stuffed bear was tucked under his arm, his head turned towards Astrid's. Her head was tucked down towards his, a soft smile on her face despite being asleep. Will could have laid there and looked at the sight for hours.
"I'll be getting home later than I thought." Astrid told him over the phone, he able to hear the faint sound of hospital activity in the background.
"I understand." He told her. "Dinner will be ready when you get back."
"Thank you, dear." She told him – despite her tone, he could tell she was tired.
"Of course." He said. They hung up, and he turned to look back down at their son, playing with a toy plane. "Hey buddy."
He looked up at him.
"Mommy said she's going to be home late."
He looked sad.
"Don't worry." He told him, moving down off the couch to kneel on the floor. "We'll go get some groceries for dinner. Alright?"
He nodded excitedly. Will smiled, picking him up.
They got to the store and were getting what groceries they needed, when Will saw something that gave him an idea.
Later at home, he heard the front door open.
"I'm home!" Astrid called. Will bolted out, stopping where she could see him. She looked surprised.
"Astrid, honey, don't panic." He told her. Her eyes went wide. "But there's a bear in the house."
"Wha-"
There was a tiny roar, their son running out dressed in a little bear-themed coat, hood on his head. He latched onto Will's leg, who let out an dramatic gasp.
"He's got me!" Will exclaimed, falling to the ground, though carefully. Astrid was smiling, looking at them adoringly as their son climbing up onto Will, pretending to claw at him.
"Don't worry!" Astrid said, rushing forward and scooping their son up. "I caught him!"
"Mommy!" He said, reaching out to hug her. She hugged him, tucking his head down under her chin. Will sat up, smiling up at them warmly, and she sat down next to him.
He held them both, something worth more than material he could think of.
…
The bear-themed coat, with the hood that had ears was in his hands.
The room around him was mostly empty, the furnishings now in boxes. A stuffed bear sat on one, a thin layer of dust starting to settle on it. There was no warmth in the room, no laughter. He wasn't there, playing with his toys. He wasn't curled up against Astrid in the rocking chair, his head tucked under her chin. He couldn't hear the pitter-patter of his footsteps rushing down the hall. Feel his little hands reach out and tug at his pant leg, holding out his arms. There was no weight from him riding on his shoulders, looking around in awe of how different things looked.
No…
No, none of that.
His hands gripped the coat, a choked sob jumping up into his throat.
All there was now, all that was left, was a void, cold and isolated compared to the warm memories that should have been in the process of making.
His hand covered his eyes, face twisted with a pain that had never left.
After a bit, he drew his hand down, eyes staring out into that inky darkness. He managed to take a shaky breath. He knew he couldn't have all of that back, but he so terribly wanted it back.
The memories had taken their course. Now he had to do his part.
The musty blankets were pulled tightly around him as he rolled on his good side. He kept his eyes closed. Sleep would come, then morning. He would wake up. He would keep on to the power plant. He would have a lingering sensation, empty yet heavy and weighed down.
It shouldn't have surprised him, really. Dark rooms like these always seemed to cause some variation of what happened, some worse than others. It was as if the darkness around him crept in to his head, bringing out everything – those dark thoughts in a dark room, an awful reminder of what had been lost.