A/N: After much thinking around the issue, I finally decided to split this chapter in two parts; I was getting really frustrated and (I might need some feedback to encourage me to finish the next part) it was getting too long.
It's been a very difficult chapter to write and I'm still doubting myself about it. I changed my mind numerous times about the plot and how I wanted it to go on.
Well, I hope nobody wants to kill me after this ... and I really hope you like it!
Will quickly reached into his pocket and took out his phone. Before he could begin dialing, Lonny put his hand on Will's arm to stop him. "Don't." Lonny softly said. "We don't know why Mackenzie used the panic button; calling her right know could make things worse. Mike's on it, he knows what to do." He assured him. Will put his phone back into his pocket and walked towards the elevator. "Where are you going?" Lonny asked him.
"To Mac's place." He replied.
"We should wait here." Lonny said, trying to be the voice of reason.
"Lonny, I swear to God, I'm going there. You can come with me or stay here, I don't fucking care."
Lonny thought about it for a few seconds before replying. "You'll stay in the car until I tell you it's ok to get out. I'll handcuff you to the door if I have to."
"Understood." Will said. "Thank you." He sincerely told him.
"Hi Mackenzie."
He was the last person she expected to find when she turned around; she expected even less to find him pointing a gun at her. Her hands flew up in reflex, her whole body suddenly getting on defense mode. She wanted to talk but she found out that the words weren't coming out of her mouth. Don't panic, she thought.
"Open the door and get inside." He told her, stepping over the unconscious body of George, her bodyguard, getting closer to her. She quickly complied. He closed the door behind them and made her walk to the living room. She noticed that he hadn't put the locks on the door; a mistake from his part but a good sign for her.
Mac stood on the middle of her living room without knowing what to do next. He kept staring at her, sizing her up. Out of the blue, he approached her and extended his hand. "Give me your phone." She hesitated. "NOW!" He yelled at her.
"Okay." Mac told him. She opened her purse and was about to take out the phone when she remembered about the panic button Mike had given her so she pretended to be looking for the phone inside the purse while she pressed the button. Then, she took her phone and gave it to him.
"Sit down." He ordered her, pointing to the couch with the gun, before grabbing a chair to sit in front of her. Once she was seated, he left the gun on his lap for a moment to open her Blackberry and take out the battery. She thought he would pick it up back immediately but he surprised her when he crossed his legs and put his hands behind his head, adopting a comfortable and carefree position, as if he was at home. He seemed to feel pretty calm for someone who was holding another person up at gunpoint, in her own home. Mac wasn't sure what to think, her mind was spinning almost out of control. Her mental chaos must had been reflected on her face because he smirked at her, slightly arching his eyebrow. He's enjoying this, she thought. It didn't help that he knew how to read the expression on her face and eyes and that he had always been too good at it.
"Glad to see me again, Mackenzie?" He asked her, still smirking and making her blood boil inside her. She had to bite her tongue before she said something she would regret later. Instead, she decided to remain silent. At her negative to speak with him, he bursted out laughing. "What? Cat got your tongue?" He teased her. "It's always been impossible to shut you up. Had McAvoy finally managed to tame the beast?"
"Fuck you." She spat before she could really stop herself.
"Yeah, you used to love that." He grinned at her.
"What the hell do you want, Brian?" Mac asked him.
"You." He replied. "I want you."
The front of Mackenzie's building was cordoned off, police cars and vans occupying most of the space. Thanks to Mike, Lonny had been able to park his car inside that area. They waited in the car, following Michael's instructions. From there, they could see how the curious neighbors were gathering behind the yellow cord, trying to see what was going on; some of them were even trying to look inside the car to see who was there. Lonny, knowing beforehand that they would get curious glances, had parked the car so people couldn't see Will sitting inside.
He could feel how nervous Will was: the usually calm anchor was fidgeting on his seat, checking his phone every few seconds and his hand was constantly running through his hair. Will almost jumped out of his seat when he saw Mike approach the car. Lonny quickly rolled down the window and Mike leant on it to speak with them.
"Her floor is being evacuated right now. Once they have secured it, a NYPD negotiator will call the apartment." Mike explained. "They found George unconscious on the floor. He's on his way to ER but he'll be okay."
"Do you have any idea who's behind this?" Lonny asked on Will's behalf.
"The security cameras on the hallway got a partial picture of his face." He said while taking out his phone. He unblocked it and gave the phone to Lonny, who passed it to Will. "Do you recognize him?" Mike asked him.
"It's Brian!" Will exclaimed as soon as he saw the picture. "Son of a bitch!"
"Brian?" Mike asked, confused.
"Brian Brenner, Mackenzie's ex-boyfriend." Lonny told him.
"I'll inform Detective Johnson." Mike said before nodding at them and walking away.
Will looked at Mike going back to one of the vans with an angry look on his face. "There's something he's not telling us." He thought out loud.
"Let them do their jobs." Lonny said.
"Easy for you to say." Will spat.
Lonny was about to tell him that he wasn't the only one who cared for Mackenzie but decided to ignore him and stay quiet.
The staring contest between them was getting on Mac's nerves and she had to admit that the know-it-all smirk on his face wasn't helping either. She knew that she had to remain calm, her life was on the line (even if she didn't want to admit it) and Brian was proving to be pretty unreliable. She was also beginning to feel too warm for her taste; Brian had closed all the windows and curtains, making the room temperature rise a few degrees. Mac decided to take off her blazer but, before she even made the slightest movement, he stopped her.
"What are you doing?" He asked her, his hand moving once again to the gun resting on his lap.
"Removing my jacket." Mac nonchalantly replied. "May I stand up to do it?" She said, sarcastically.
"No." Brian told her. She struggled for a few seconds but finally managed to take off her blazer before throwing it to the other side of the couch. "Keep your hands where I can see them." He said.
"What do you expect me to do, Brian? You have a gun pointing at me. I'm not an idiot." Like you, she thought, leaving it unsaid.
"I'm never sure what you will or won't do, Mackenzie."
His phone beeped, startling her. Still smirking, he took it out of his pants' pocket. "Well, that was quick." Brian said after reading the message. He stood up and grabbed Mac's purse, dumping all the contents on the couch. "Police is here." He continued while taking a black device. "You have a panic button and you used it. Am I right?" He asked her, picking up the device. "There's no way NYPD could have gotten here so quickly."
Mac didn't answer. On one hand, she was relieved to hear that the police was there, working on a way to get her out of that situation. On the other hand, she was getting more and more scared. Between all that madness, something clicked on her mind: Brian wasn't working alone; he must have someone outside tipping him. She wondered who it was but was afraid to ask.
Brian threw the device to the floor and crushed it with his shoe; he knew it wouldn't help him in any way but he felt better after destroying it. Then, in an outburst of rage, he grabbed the table lamp that was next to the couch and sent it flying to the other side of the room. She yelped at the sound of the lamp smashing against the wall. Mac saw him approaching her. She stood up, wanting to get away from him and closer to the abandoned gun, but Brian got to her before she could go anywhere.
"Where were you going, Mackenzie?" He asked her, his hand grabbing the hair on the back of her head and pulling her head backwards. Mac cried out in pain, her hands desperately trying to ease the strain on her neck. "Don't play with me." He angrily said, his mouth very close to her ear. Out of the blue, he threw her onto the couch, face-down, and quickly climbed on top of her to prevent another escape. Mac's cries for him to stop, or her kicking legs and arms, only infuriated him more. "Well, it seems I can't trust you to stay still." He told her. With some difficulty, he grabbed both her wrists in one hand and held them against her lower back. He took a pair of handcuffs from the back of his pants and quickly secured them around her wrists. Mac tried to get free but she only managed to hurt herself. She forced herself to stop panicking and to stop struggling, knowing she wouldn't accomplish anything. Brian waited a few seconds, making sure she couldn't get free of the restrains, before he stood up.
He didn't help her sit back up. Instead, he returned to his chair and watched Mac struggling to do it by herself. When, after a few minutes, she managed to sit upright, angry tears were running down her face. She closed her eyes and rested her head on the back of the couch, grimacing when her neck muscles screamed in pain.
"What a sight." Brian said. "I should have done this sooner, when we were still together. It would have been a lot of fun."
"Go to hell." She was breathing hard so the words sounded more choked off than she wanted to. Her eyes remained closed while she tried to regulate her breathing, something that was proving to be more difficult than she thought it would, but she wouldn't give Brian the pleasure of seeing her have a panic attack.
Think about Will, she told herself. Think about his calming voice and how he always makes you feel safe. Will ... Will ... Oh God! He must be freaking out! I hope he doesn't try to do something stupid. Ok. Stop. That won't help, Mackenzie.
Brian grew tired of Mac ignoring him; he hadn't gotten in all that trouble for nothing. He wanted her; he always managed to get what he wanted, Mackenzie wouldn't be the exception, not in his mind. But, first, he had to make her aware of all the trouble she had caused him and, one way or another, she would have to pay for it.
The slap across her face startled her. Without being able to use her hands, she couldn't break the fall and ended face-down on the couch. Her first instinct was to soothe the pain with her hand but the sharp tug of metal against her wrists reminded her, once again, that she couldn't.
"Fuck." She exclaimed while he grabbed her arm and sat her upright. "What was that for?" Instead of answering, Brian slapped her other cheek. That time, she saw it coming and was able to stay seated. Her face burned, her neck hurting even more from the abrupt movements to one side and the other. "Are you done?" Mac asked him, looking directly into his eyes. The third slap stung more than the other ones, having hit her already sore skin. She opened and closed her mouth and moved her jaw to both sides trying to ease the pain.
"Are you gonna stop being a bitch or do I have to slap you around some more?" Brian said, looking down at her.
"Can't promise anything." Mac replied. The fourth one made her reconsider. "Okay! Okay!" She exclaimed when she saw him raising his hand once again. "Please." She asked him.
Brian thought about it and decided to stop, for the moment. With his foot, he pushed the coffee table away before grabbing his chair in front of the couch and sitting on it backwards, facing her. The smirk was back on his face, as well as a satisfied look on his eyes. He studied her, taking his time looking at her from head to toe, letting everything he saw sink in: the mix between fear and stubbornness that her eyes reflected, how still her neck was, her pressed-together lips, the unsteady rise and fall of her chest. He had lost her twice, there wouldn't be a third time.
Her voice put his daydreaming to a stop. "So, what's your plan Brian?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?" He quickly replied, extending his arm to softly run a finger up her leg. Mac jerked away but that didn't stop him to continue with his intentions. He moved the chair closer and laughed when Mac tried to get away from him by leaning back on the couch.
The phone began ringing and both turned to look at it. The relief on Mac's face was evident but Brian glared at the object, debating whether answer it or let it ring. The sound stopped half a minute later but immediately rang again. Reluctantly, he stood up and answered it.
Lonny had let Will step out of the car for a few minutes. Will was leaning against the car, smoking a cigarette, while Lonny stood next to him, hiding his protégé from the curious eyes as well as he could. From his position, Lonny could see Mike approaching them. He quickly alerted Will, who stubbed out his cigarette and waited impatiently for the other bodyguard to reach them.
"Mackenzie is alright." Mike said as soon as they were within earshot. "The negotiator was able to speak with her for a moment and she assured him she was fine."
"Thank God." Will whispered, releasing the breath he didn't even realize he had been holding.
"What does he want?" Lonny asked his colleague.
When Mike hesitated, Will feared the worst. "What?" He asked.
"Mr. Brenner's only asked to be left alone. The negotiator will keep trying but, at this point, they're thinking about entering the apartment by force." At Will's horrified face, Mike quickly tried to reassure him. "Their first priority is Ms. McHale's safety. I assure you that, whatever they have in mind, is gonna be carefully planned. And I promise you that I'm gonna be right behind the SWAT team so Ms. McHale sees a friendly face once it's over."
"I trust you, Mike." Will sincerely told him.
"Thank you." Mike replied.
An officer approached Michael and whispered something to him. Mike eyes grew bigger and, after a quick excuse me, he left. Lonny gently patted Will's shoulder, showing him his support. The sound of his name being called out startled Will. He turned around and almost fell down when a pair of arms engulfed him into a tight hug, startling him. He stood still for a few seconds until his senses kicked back and he tightened his arms around the distraught woman crying against his shoulder.
"It's gonna be alright." He whispered to her. "She's fine, Sloan. She's fine." Sloan nodded but didn't release him. He raised his head and saw Charlie standing next to Lonny. He sent his boss a questioning look, asking him what they were doing here and how had they found out.
"It's on the local news." Charlie simply told him.
"The staff?" Will asked.
"Jim called. I told him I'll call as soon as I know something. They're gathering up at the newsroom to wait together."
"You should get in the car." Lonny interrupted.
Will nodded in agreement and gently guided Sloan to climb into the back seat before following her. Charlie got on the passenger seat and turned around to look at them.
"Tell us what you know."
"They're going to call again." Mac softly said.
Brian was pacing up and down the room. "Shut up." He told her, halting for a moment to look at her before reassuming walking. He spent a couple of minutes pacing and thinking about the situation. Then, out of the blue, he dropped back down on the chair and stared at her. "You ruined my life, you know?" He began. "You broke up with me and ran back right into to that bastard's bed. Two months later, I lost my job and nobody wanted to hire me."
"You were writing hatred articles about Will and News Night and you know they weren't fundamented. You let your feelings towards me influence your work; you weren't basing your articles in facts. That's why they fired you, that's why none of the important papers wanted to hire you." Mac told him, her voice firm.
"How the hell would you know?" He spat at her.
"I might work in TV but I have friends and contacts in print media, Brian." She condescendingly said. "News travel fast in this profession."
"You're so full of yourself." He sarcastically laughed. "The princess of broadcast journalism. The best EP in the business! Now, please, explain to me why nobody wanted to hire you when you came back to the States, why you ended at ACN when McAvoy clearly didn't want you there, why your three years contract became a 156 weeks contract that gives Will the right to fire you at the end of each week. Tell me." He stood up and sat back down next to her before grabbing a fistful of her hair and pulling her head back. With his lips nearly touching hers, Mac tried to move away but his tight grasp prevented her of doing it. "I know I'm going down, Mackenzie, but I'm taking you with me." Brian threatened her. "Everybody's going to know how you almost got your crew killed, that you were stabbed because you were being reckless and that CNN made you come home and let you out of your contract because you had a nervous breakdown."
"You were Nina's source." Mac whispered, realizing that the story that Nina had back in February, and that Will somehow managed to keep quiet, must had come from him.
"I don't know what you two did to her but she was most than eager to hear all the dirty details." He laughed, his face still too close to hers. "It's a shame my friend didn't manage to convince her to write about Ms. McHale's mysterious stalker. She must have grown a conscience."
When he tugged her hair again, Mac grimaced. "You're hurting me, Brian." She told him.
"My bad." He mocked her. "Want me to kiss it and make it better?"
The ringing of the phone interrupted him, making him release the hold he had of her hair. Mac slumped back on the couch, trying to take deep breaths, while Brian got up to answer the phone. She could only hear his side of the conversation but, by the way he was talking and his rigid posture, she knew the conversation wasn't going well at all; he was getting more agitated every second that went by, his voice getting angrier at whoever was on the phone with him. "She's fine." She heard him say. "No, you cannot talk to her ... Because I say so." He continued. A minute later, the negotiator must had say something that Brian hadn't liked because he hung up the phone and slammed it against the wall. He quickly went to her side and grabbed her arm, hurtfully forcing her to stand up. Mac tried to resist but he dragged her to the bedroom.
"Brian? What are you doing?" She asked, scared.
"We're getting as far as we can from the door." He simply said. Once in her bedroom, he threw her out facedown onto the end of the bed, quickly climbing on top of her with his knees on both sides of her hips, holding her in place.
"Brian, don't do this." Mac pleaded.
"Shut up." He forcefully said. Then, for a few seconds, her hands were free. Brian had released one of her wrists but had quickly trapped her left arm under his knee while he took the right one and moved it so he could secure the cuff on the bedframe. When he was sure she couldn't escape, he stood up.
Mac didn't dare to move; a strangled sob accompanied the tears that were freely falling down her face and, dampening the comforter covering her bed. Her body tensed when she felt Brian's breath next to her ear. She whimpered, tightly closing her eyes while her hand grabbed a handful of the comforter and held it tight.
"You know I'd never do something like that, Mackenzie." Brian slowly told her, nearly emphasizing every word. "Get comfortable, we're gonna be here for a while."
Brian had left her alone for a few minutes after that, time she used to try to get as comfortable as possible. After struggling with different positions, she found that sitting on the floor with her back resting against the bed was the most comfortable position she could manage with her right wrist still cuffed to the bedframe. With her knees bent and her ankles crossed, she pulled her skirt down as best as she could, getting frustrated when the material didn't yield. Feeling disappointed, Mac closed her eyes and rested her head against her mattress.
She didn't open her eyes until she heard Brian approaching her room. In an unexpected gesture of kindness, he handed her a glass of water before closing the door and sitting down on the chair she had in a corner of the room. Her first thought was to throw the water to his face but she resisted the temptation and took a sip instead.
"Thanks." She softly told him, watching him nurse his recently poured scotch.
"Comfortable?" He asked, smiling.
"Not really." Mac quickly replied. "Do you even care?"
"Not really." Brian said, grinning at her.
"So, what are you going to do? We can't stay here forever." Mac asked him, tired of playing his game. "They won't let you get out of the building."
"They will if I have my gun pointed at your head." He replied, grabbing the gun he had left on top of her dresser and showing it to her.
"Are you going to kill me, Brian?" She asked him, her voice betraying her and clearly showing him her fear.
"I don't know, yet. Try not to piss me off so much and you might get out of here alive."
Mac decided to stay quiet, not wanting to trigger him to do something that she would end regretting later. He continued calmly drinking his scotch. When, fifteen minutes later, they heard the sound of the front door getting opened, he got up and went to stand next to Mac, putting her between him and the bedroom door.
He raised the gun and pointed it at her. "Well, it's show time, baby."