When You're Gone

And when the ghost of Serena Hartford vanished as suddenly as she'd appeared, Rose did just that. She climbed onto the stiff, uncomfortable bed with Mack and nestled as close to him as she could, throwing her arm over his torso and hiding her face in his chest. She let herself cry for a few moments and then looked down at Mack, her Mack.

"Oh Mack," she whispered tenderly. "You are not allowed to die on me, do you understand?" Rose blinked and more tears slid down her face. She coughed feebly, still trying to find the right words to confess her feelings with. "Do…do you remember back when we were teenagers and you used to fall asleep after those ridiculous little fairy tales you insisted on hearing?

"And we referred to ourselves as the red knight and his pink princess. You used to tell me that no matter what the red knight would do whatever it took to keep his princess safe. I just shook my head at you then, but honestly, Mack, I never expected it to remain true all these years after the fact…

"So I guess what you told me earlier is true: That you love me. You asked me to say it back and I didn't. I refused to tell you how I felt about you, Mack Hartford, because even two hours ago I knew that if you died it would be all my fault. And damn if it's not my fault. Oh, but Mack…I do. I do love you. So much. So very much."

Rose paused then and straightened herself up. She cupped Mack's pale face in her hands, her thumb tracing the shapes of the deep purple circles under his eyelids. Rose did not know how much longer she could keep looking at this pitiful excuse for Mack, for the man she loved. Seeing him this way…so broken…so defeated…after everything he risked for the world it seemed to wrong. It seemed so cruel.

"So Mack, you have to hang on. Hang on to your life, do you understand? It'll be you and me again, just like we were meant to be five years ago, and even before that. We'll travel. We'll find that charming house. We'll have children. Three beautiful children, just like you wanted. Two little girls and one little boy…" Rose ran one hand through his messy curls, smiling weakly down at him.

Rose got off of Mack's bed and fixed the blankets over Mack once more, feeling as she smoothed them over his chest the bullet wound that would no doubt scar. The thought of his body being marred in such an ugly way was a horrible one. Very softly Rose planted a kiss over the eventual scar. And then another on both of his cheeks, his forehead…his mouth.

"Good night, Mack. Sleep well. Sweet dreams," Rose whispered to him. Rose settled in her chair again and eventually drifted off to sleep.

--

The next morning Rose was woken by a slew of voices, all of which were familiar. Rose opened her eyes to see Mack's bed surrounded by Ronny, Will, Dax, Jessica and Andrew. Andrew in particular looked worried. Before Rose could even manage to stretch out her sore limbs a bit Ronny had pounced on her. "You and me need to talk. Now," she ordered the former pink ranger.

Rose followed her friend to the hallway where Ronny presented her with a bag of clothing for her to change into. "Not only did you and Mack just ditch my wedding, which I might add was the most important day of my life, but the two of you nearly get yourselves killed! Explain."

"I went to the house Mack wanted to buy for us. Will showed it to me a few days ago. And Mack apparently needed to follow me there. We talked about what happened the night he left and then some thug decided he wanted my purse. Only Mack being Mack wasn't going to let him take it. He had the red Tracker."

"Mack still has that thing? But how did he get hurt if he was morphed? You're not saying bullets could have penetrated the ranger suits?"

"No, of course not. Mack powered down when the guy acted sorry and the thug took advantage of him. He took out the gun and…and…" Rose's voice trailed off.

"And you didn't get hurt at all? That's practically a miracle in itself," Ronny mused. "Did Mack seem scared at all before the ambulance got to you? Did he say anything important to you, Rose?"

"He hold me he loved me," Rose said in a small voice, looking away from Ronny's deep brown eyes. "He said he never stopped loving me despite what happened to our relationship. He…oh, Ronny, I'm such an awful person, he wanted me to say it back and I couldn't! Mack was lying there in my arms, bleeding to death, and I couldn't even tell him how I truly felt."

Ronny tugged the other girl into her arms, hugging her tightly. Rose felt better as her friend hugged her and told her everything was OK. "Go on, Rose. Go get changed now, all right? Then come back and be close to him. If anyone should be close to him now it's you."

Rose did as she was told, taking the clothes into a nearby bathroom. Ronny had brought her a pink tank top and a black skirt, the same outfit she'd worn to the bachelorette party, the night she'd first seen Mack again.

She let herself out of the bathroom stall and went to one of the sinks. She splashed her face with icy water, hoping it would relieve some of the puffiness around her eyes. Rose took a deep breath and reached into her purse for her make-up bag.

She worked the small comb through her tangled rat's nest of hair, combing it thoroughly until it didn't hurt to any longer. Then Rose removed a small black compact from the make-up bag. Rose normally did not put this much effort into her looks, but she did not want to go and see her friends quite yet. Once her foundation and blush had been applied she brushed on a coat of clear lip gloss. There.

Knowing she wouldn't be able to dawdle any longer, Rose left the bathroom and found her way back to Mack's room. He was surrounded by the others and he was sitting up, wide awake. He was going to be fine, Rose knew it just by looking.

"Hey Rose," called Mack as she stepped into the room. Mack seemed genuinely pleased to see her. He sent her a smile. "Thanks for being there."

"Oh, Rose said, her mind barely working at the sight of Mack's smile, "Of course." She tried to smile back at him but wasn't so sure the attempt worked.

"Dad, guys, would you mind clearing out for a few minutes so I can talk to Rose privately?" Mack looked at Ronny pointedly, who then ushered the other occupants out of the room. "Look, Rose…I'm sorry about last night. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or anything."

"I'm the reason you got a bullet to the chest and you're worried about me feeling uncomfortable? You're brave, Mack, but this is a little much."

"I was trying to protect you, Rose. And I would always try to do that if I were capable of it and don't you forget it, all right? I will always protect you because I love you. I love you with everything I've got. And last night I was lying in your arms begging for you to tell me that you loved me too but you wouldn't. You wouldn't. I will never forgive you for that."

"But I did. I met your mother, Mack. She was a ghost or a vision or something. She- she told me I had to tell you I love you and you'd fight for your life because of that. And I did. I took you into my arms and I told you how much you meant to me, which is everything."

"Rose, my mother is dead," Mack said flatly, looking at her as if she were crazy.

"I met her," insisted Rose, firmly. "She told me that I had to save you. She said telling you how I felt would save you."

Mack patted the spot on the bed next to him. "Come here, Rose," he said softly. Rose did as she was told. Mack took both of her hands in his won. "Do you really love me? Did you tell me that?"

"Of course I did, Mack," Rose answered softly, staring up into his eyes hopefully. "How could I not have?"

Mack smiled at her again. "Rosie…my Rosie…" He tugged her into his arms. "I love you too."

--

Rose was in a room she hadn't seen for seven years: her bedroom at the Hartford mansion. The décor hadn't changed one bit in her absence, but she honestly couldn't remember how she had gotten there. And then Mack came into the room in the process of pulling a red shirt over his head. There was something wrong…there should have been a scar on his chest.

"Hey sleepy. How do you feel? Do you want something to eat, Rose? You must be starving." But Rose could hardly hear anything he had to say. She was staring at him intently. Mack noticed.

"Where is it?" Rose asked softly. "Where's the scar that I put there?"

"The one from Moltor? It's right here on my back just like it's always been." Mack lifted up the shirt to show her. Rose shook her head furiously.

"The one the thug out there when he shot you.:

Mack's expression grew to confused. "Rose…you must have hit your head harder than we thought. The bullet missed me by feet. He had horrible aim."

"But I was there, Mack. I went with you to the hospital and I saw your mother. She told me how to save you. And they said you were going to have a scar…but now you don't."

"You must have dreamed all that, Rose. He pushed past you when he fled and you hit your head on the pavement. You've been here ever since. There's no scar. I was never hurt."

Rose shook her head in disbelief. "I couldn't have dreamed all of that, Mack. It was so vivid. I mean, why would I have dreamed about your mother?"

Mack shrugged. He lifted up his shirt again to show her that he was indeed uninjured. Rose got off the bed and crossed to him, running her hand over the smooth unblemished skin.

"Since I am apparently crazy, I better get out of here before I start thinking I'm married to you or something. Is my car still at the house we should have or did you have something bring it by?"

"It's here," Mack answered, "But I don't want you to leave yet, Rose. Please stay."

"For what? Where are my keys, Mack? I need to leave."

Mack picked up her key ring. "But Rose…we were so close to being together again. Why do you want to run out on me now?"

"Mack, please," Rose said softly. "Just let me leave. I need to be home in my own bed where I can think about this in peace."

Mack nodded slowly. "Fine then," he replied, pressing the keys into her hands, "Here you go. It's in the back driveway." A sudden rumble of thunder sounded. "Did I mention it's been storming?"

Rose kissed him on the cheek and whispered good-bye. She started to leave the room, turning back once to smile at him ever so slightly. And then she was gone…just like that.

Mack followed her down the many flights of stairs to the ground floor where he saw Spencer busy polishing a table. "Don't let her get away, sir," said the butler quietly.

And Spencer was right. Mack wasn't going to let his Rose get away. Not again. He ran out after her, right into the pouring rain. "Rose!" Mack hollered. And she turned around to look at him, soaking wet. She was beautiful. Mack knew instantly. He was at her side in a second, pulling her into his arms and kissing her without a second thought.

"I lost you once, Rose. I won't let it happen again. There-will-never-be-anyone-else-for-me-" he told her, puncturing his words with kisses. "Never." Rose stared up at him breathlessly, wondering how they could ever manage to fix things.

But before she could say anything else Mack was already talking again. "Come to Rome with me. I have to photograph a festival there next week. Come with me. We'll get to know each other again and everything will be OK. Please, Rose. Come with me."

"When do we leave?"

Mack smiled hugely. "Really? You'll come?"

"Of course. But Mack, fixing things won't be easy. It's going to take time. I'm willing to try though. If you'll have me, I mean."

"Let's go home, Rose." Mack pressed another soft kiss to her lips and pulled her back towards the mansion.