Maggie stirred restlessly in her sleep as Tracy uncurled herself from the tangle of bodies on the bed, mumbling a sleepy "Good night" as she staggered to her room. Maggie mumbled back in response, missing the warmth that had been Tracy against her back. She scooted back, murmuring in protest, until her movements were blocked by what seemed like a wall of warmth, solid yet soft at the same time. She wiggled to get more comfortable and a groan reached her ears; part of her mind registered that part of that wall had just gotten a lot harder. She came fully to, blinking in confusion as she rolled over and met Doc's heated gaze as he gazed intently down at her. "Doc?" she stammered in confusion. "Alan?" His continued lack of response unnerved her, and her confusion only grew as he reached over and picked up her left hand and kissed her wedding rings. Maggie thought perhaps he was feeling meloncholy; Lord knew she and Tracy had given him enough reason to feel that way, especially lately. Her opinion changed as he brought her fingers to his lips, kissing her fingers reverently, then the rings. The touch of his lips and the look in his eyes made her feel...something...she swallowed hard and looked away.
"Are you my wife?" The question startled her; she snapped her gaze back to his face. "Wha..what?" Her nervousness only increased; perhaps she was back in a crazy dream. She shivered, an action that wasn't lost on Doc as his intent gaze remained riveted on her face. "Of...of course I'm your wife, Alan. We're married, after all."
"No." Just that one word, softly spoken. Alan still hadn't released her hand, and now he turned it over and brushed a gentle kiss across her palm. It burned like fire all the way up her arm and settled into the pit of her stomach. She had to concentrate to understand his next words. "We're married, yes. For a year now we've worn matching rings, and you've carried my last name. For the past three years we've lived together, laughed and cried and survived together. We've watched Tracy grow into an amazing young woman, and we've done what we had to do to make it. But in these years we haven't truly lived. I can't take this anymore, Maggie. I love you. I've loved you from the moment you emerged from that last battle with Krueger." he watched sympathetically as she shuddered, then kissed her palm again before continuing. "For the past three years I've loved you and I've ached for you as I've watched you struggle to overcome all we've been through. I've done all I could for you, Maggie, you and Tracy, but I can't do any more unless you both allow me to."
He would've gone on then, but Maggie cut in. "Doc, you know damn well you've been an important part of our lives, of my life. I don't know what we would've done without you here." She watched as he stubbornly shook his head. "No, don't deny your role in our survival. You've been wonderful, but you don't have to continue like this. I know you've been wanting to get on with your life, but Tracy and I have been holding you back. It's okay. We know we've been selfish, and that you need love. You don't have to pretend to love me. You've been a wonderful friend and we'll stay friends, if you'd like. We know you need to move on."
Her heart was breaking even as she spoke the words. She knew they were coming out calmly, she just didn't know how when her entire soul was screaming and crying and dying inside. He wanted to leave them. She knew it would come someday, that he would want to live free again as a man unencombered by the strain they'd all been through, she just didn't think it would be now. She could still hear her words coming out, logically and calm, even though the little girl in her screamed for her to not break up her family. Even as the woman inside cried out the love she could never reveal to him, lest she trap him, guilt him into staying with her longer for her sake. Even as she watched his already dark eyes go black and his face blanch with each word that fell from her lips.
Doc's whole world was crashing down on him. He saw her lips moving, but all he heard was pretend to love, friend, and move on. She didn't love him. He knew that, he'd always known that, but he was hoping that once he'd spoken what was in his heart, she might perhaps return even just a hint of that love. But no, for whatever reason, Freddy or no, she kept her heart closed from him. He was just her crutch. A normal man would've finally realized it and, indeed, moved on. But he wasn't a normal man. He was HER man, and he would continue to be her crutch as long as she wanted or needed him. Except she didn't want or need him anymore. A normal man would've gotten up, packed his few meager belongings, and hit a hotel for the night to ponder his next move. He merely listened to her words, trying to see through them, to ponder his next move. With her.
If she'd let him.
She was still talking, babbling about how they'd still share custody of Tracy, it shouldn't be a problem since she was over 18 now anyway. About how she didn't want any of the things he worked so hard to provide for him, that he should be free to give those to a woman he truly loved, who deserved them. About how she'd take back her maiden name so that he wouldn't be forced to remember the mistake he made. And as he listened to her inane babble, two things became clear to him. One was that she had no clue how he truly felt for her. She thought she was doing him a favor! He could've laughed in relief. The second point that became clear to him was that he had to do something, and fast, or he truly would lose her forever. Because it was becoming more and more obvious to him, as she talked, that she truly cared for him, as well. Perhaps she didn't love him, not the way he loved her, but with time, with time....he wanted to laugh. He wanted to cry. What he did took them both by suprise. He lunged across the of the bed, seemingly guided by some unseen force, and took her into his arms. There was a moment to hear her squeak of suprise before his lips came down hard on hers. Another moment--shocked, unprotesting suprise--where she didn't react at all, and he sent another prayer out, this one to Whomever had guided his actions. Please, please..let her respond favorably. Let her feel what I'm feeling now, please....He was just about to give up, to gently push her away, stammering apologies while he packed his things, when he felt it. The tiniest twitch of her lips, then they opened under his, and her arms snaked around his neck, pulling him to her with almost bruising force. If she'd let him up for air, he'd sing.
Maggie was flying. He loved her. he loved her. He loved HER! It wasn't an act of charity, a way to keep the Survivor's Club together. He felt everything she felt. None of her dreams ever could've been so perfect. That's an odd thought to have now. The thought made her shiver; perhaps this was a dream, after all, one inspired by her father to wear down her defenses so he could get to her. Maybe...she whimpered as the arms around her suddenly tightened almost painfully. Panicked, she started to struggle. The arms never let her go, just gentled the embrace, the lips touching hers gentled as well. He's NOT your father, her heart screamed, and it felt right to her. She pulled him to her with an urgancy that almost scared her, seemingly guided by some unseen force. She opened her mouth to him, inviting him; he wasn't allowing her up for air, let alone words, so she would pour her heart and everything she wanted to say to him into that first kiss.
A short time later--moments, or an eternity, neither knew which--they broke apart, gasping for air and looking at each other through new eyes. Maggie opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came from her kiss-bruised lips. She shook her head helplessly, trying to articulate her feelings, but couldn't make sense of anything. She held out her hands beseechingly, and Doc took them, pressing her fingertips. "I know, it's hard to put into words, so I'll make it simple for you. I ask again, Maggie--are you my wife?"
In response, she rose from the bed; his eyes followed her worriedly. She smiled gently, then stripped the cotton nightie she'd taken to wearing from her body. "I hope this answers your question," she teased, finally finding her voice under the returned heat of his gaze. "And now I'll ask you: Are you my husband?" She was amazed she could tease, but she knew she'd done the right thing when he opened his arms to her, then proceeded to answer her question with kisses and touches, and so much more. All night. And when sleep finally claimed them as the sun started its climb into the sky, there were no dreams for either of them.
Tracy bounded into her "parent's" room cheerfully that morning, having been guided as if by an unseen force late the night before back to her room. She'd fallen asleep before she could ponder it, but the night was blessedly free of any other nightmares. She bounced into the room, the sunny "Good morning!" dying on her lips as she entered to see a sight she thrilled to--and hoped to God she'd never see again. Her "parents", naked, curled around each other protectively, but with love. "Bout damn time," she murmered as she sneaked downstairs to call them both in sick, thinking to do her beloved "parents" a favor. She whistled happily as she prepared for school, thoughtfully making them a cold lunch they could enjoy later, never even feeling the evil eyes that watched in delight.
