The End: Chapter II
by Kate
And no, I don't believe for a second that they're going to kill off Mac on the show. But this isn't the show. So there you go.
The story:
Was it really fair for me to ask this of him? I don't know. What is fair? Having your life expectancy suddenly cut in half, and being much too close to the short end for comfort? Thirty-five years old and dying? But to make him go through all of this with me, to force him to experience from the outside what I was to experience on the inside. Maybe there are just some things that you can't ask of even your closest friends.
No, no, never mind Harm...I... I heard my voice, shaky yet sure.
Mac...Sarah. I would do anything for you. You know that, don't you? He looked at me. His eyes glistened with barely restrained tears as he slowly took my hands in his. And I knew then that this was something I couldn't ask. Because the answer would surely be yes.
I know. And that's why I can't ask you. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I was being emotional. Please Harm, just forget it. It doesn't matter.
I knew that I had done the right thing, that to do otherwise would be selfish. And yet, a voice deep inside of me cried out against the prospect of spending the rest of my short life alone. How can anyone understand what it feels like to know that you will never have the happiness that you've dreamed of for years? That the future you envisioned for yourself will never be? That you waited too long and now your time is up and you've lost your chance? I never thought that my life, my relationship with Harm would end like this.
I looked up at the man who had always been there, who would always be there, if only I would let him. So much I had put him through. So long we had denied our emotions, denied the truth. And for what? What sense is there in delay when you know, you know that something is meant to be? But that's just what we had done. Time had slipped past us unnoticed as we had stayed frozen, immobile, trapped just out of reach of each other. That time was lost now, forever. Had I somehow convinced myself that I was immortal, that he was? That nothing would change, not really, that we'd always have a chance, no matter how much time we wasted?
His voice was hoarse as he pushed the words out of his mouth with effort, How long Sarah? I mean, when...when are you leaving me?
I smiled grimly. At least, I think I smiled. I tried to, anyway. Mentally forbidding myself to cry, to display any outward sign of my inward despair, I spoke softly. I didn't trust my voice, didn't trust my heart. I knew that if I stayed much longer with this man who had graced my dreams and hopes, my resolve would crumble, and sobbing I would beg him to stay with me until the end, to never leave me alone, to belong to me as I would belong to him. But I couldn't do that. I could not, would not spend the final days of my life fulfilling my own selfish fantasy. To live a lie at the point of death, that wasn't me.
So I kept my voice calm, for his sake and my own, Three months, maybe four
Three months to live. When you know with near absolute certainty that death will claim you before the year is through, maybe you've already begun to die. There is a fundamental difference between knowing that you share the destiny of all mortals, that you will someday die as will everyone in this world...and knowing that it has already begun, that in a few short months your heart will cease to beat, your lungs to breathe. Simply recognizing that you can pin down the date of your death, that it is no longer an event to be viewed in an abstract way, you die a little bit. And you keep dying, every day more and more until finally, all too soon, you are not.
Three months, his voice echoed mine and I felt his pain, his confusion. And it became twice as important for me to keep up this facade of strength, of a calm acceptance of my fate. It was written on his face how much it hurt him to think of any pain conquering me. I couldn't let him see the terror and anguish that had gripped me in a silent and relentless embrace ever since the doctor had told me her findings. For Harm to see this would only add to his own concerns, his own fears, his own despair. He loved me. How could I have ever doubted that? He loved me, and I loved him. I would do anything to keep him from feeling any more pain, even push my own pain deep inside where he would never find it, would never discover this potential addition to the darkness that held him. Darkness. I could see it in his eyes; dull, lifeless, lacking the spark of vitality that usually graced them. I hoped, I prayed to any who would listen, that that spark would someday return, that he would someday be the man he had been just minutes before. I wasn't being arrogant, just honest. I knew that I meant the world to the man in front of me, and that my death would cause a part of him to die as well. I just hoped that the damage to his heart, to his soul, wouldn't be irreparable.
Funny how it took something as drastic as a death sentence for me to finally see, with a stunning clarity, the depth of this man's love for me. To understand that he was the only person in the world who I could trust absolutely. To know that his life and mine were connected, intertwined so completely that the death of one was an incredible blow to the other.
Sarah...Sarah, what are you going to do?
I don't know Harm. I just don't know. I've considered continuing to work, that is, until I can't anymore. I don't think I want to spend the last months of my life being useless. I guess, I don't know, I just want to do something worthwhile. I've got so little time...I'd hate to feel like I was wasting any of it.
You couldn't, he swallowed, and I could see him fighting to restrain the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes, you couldn't waste any time Sarah. Just by existing, by being a part of this world, by spending time with the people who love you, you make things better. It, it doesn't matter what you do, Sarah. Just as long as you're here. His voice was hoarse. I could hear the battle being fought between his self-restraint and his emotions as the interval between each word gradually lengthened and he struggled to finish what he had to say. His strength was failing. I gazed into his eyes, astonished at the depth of emotion contained in them. I looked down at his hands, still clasping mine.
Thank you Harm. I know... my voice faltered and I pressed my lips together, breathed in deeply, and started again, I know this is hard Harm-
his eyes blazed with a fury directed not against me, but against the impassive and remorseless universe, the fickle fate that called me to my death, that was taking me away from him, Its not hard, Sarah. Its impossible! This can't be right. This isn't...this isn't how its supposed to happen. We should have had more time. Damn it, we need more time. The last words were barely more than a whisper. He looked at me pleadingly, almost as if he thought that I had some power to influence the course of events, to change the past and the present to produce the future that he wanted, that we both wanted. But he was giving me more credit than I deserved. I had no power, no strength. I was nothing more than the myriad other mortals surrounding me. I had no way to stand up against the waves that swept me, him, everyone through time to our respective ends.
I remained motionless, my face mere inches from his. I could feel the warmth of the short gasping breaths that he took in a futile effort to calm himself, to regain control. My eyes locked with his, I just looked at him, into him. There was nothing I could say. Nothing to say, not for either of us. Nothing to do, except be there, each a comfort to the other. Death is, I have come to realize, an impossible situation. Millions of years as mortal beings, and we still haven't found a way to deal with it. Maybe we're not not supposed to. Perhaps this irrational and sometimes overwhelming fear of dying is a part of what makes us human. I don't know what the future will bring. But I think, I think that even in a thousand, in ten thousand years, if by some chance or providence the human race has not destroyed itself or been destroyed, the cold and sickening terror of dying will still be seen in the eyes of the man who faces his death. This fear was in my eyes now, I knew. I could see it reflected in his.
No. Sarah. I can't accept this. We are out of time. This stops now. I will not spend another day without you. There are too few left.
Harm...what are you saying?