Disclaimer: The concept and the people in the story are fictional and the property of several production companies. I only borrow them and return them unharmed and unmarked. No money is made of the story and no infringement is meant.

 

 

Five years ago

 

By Valerie

 

Battery Park had been one of Claire’s favorite spots in Manhattan. Mac sighed as he looked out to the sea and Liberty Island. They often had met here after work and just watched the people rushing past them. Sometimes Claire made him play her favorite game and they picked a random person and followed them home in their thoughts. She always chided him for being so negative when he hadn’t given their person a nice life, and then she usually used her imagination to bring some color and life into Mac’s imagination.

 

He shook his head as he realized how well the description fit what she had done with his life, too. Claire had been the one to bring color and warmth into it. She had been the one who made him see the good in people and overlook the darkness. Sometimes it felt as if he had lost the colors when she died. It was appropriate that the city had been covered in grey ashes when she died. New York had been devoid of all colors on the day when he lost her.

 

Five years ago, he thought. How could they have passed so fast? How could it be that it was five years since he had seen her?

 

So much had changed on that day, and yet so much more had changed over the last five years. Life goes on; Mac hated the saying, because it made him feel as if he was obligated to do the same. He had refused to go on and now, five years later, he suddenly wondered where the years had gone.

 

What had he done all those years?

 

He had worked and he had mourned.

 

Had he?

 

No, he thought with a start, he had never mourned Claire; instead he had locked his grief away. The memory of Danny’s break down in the hospital resurfaced and it suddenly was as if he felt Danny shaking in his arms again. Mac had hurt for him, had hurt because the agony and the pain were familiar. But he had also felt almost jealous, because Danny allowed himself to cry and to grieve. Mac pressed his lips tightly together and pulled his coat around him. It would be fall soon, and while it was still warm during the day, it got chilly in the evening.

 

Claire and he had made plans to meet here for lunch; it had been an easy week for her and he hadn’t been too busy. They had talked about going to a travel agency and grabbing some offers to look at while eating. She had laughed and threatened to leave if he dragged her onto some hiking paths. They needed to rest, she had said.

 

When Mac closed his eyes, he could still see her, how she checked her hair in the mirror in their hallway before she turned and kissed him goodbye. She had laughed at his slightly annoyed sigh when her lipstick had left traces on his cheek.

 

He saw it everyday; people walked out of their homes and never returned. Rationally, he had always known that there was a possibility that it would one day happen to him, but whenever he thought about it, he had been sure that he would be the one not coming back.

 

But it had been Claire.

 

And Mac had not been able to deal with it.

 

“It’s nice here, but a bit cold, don’t you think?”

 

Mac tensed and looked up to see Horatio sitting next to him. Horatio smiled and turned his gaze towards the sea.

 

“I used to go to the beach after hard cases. It always felt as if the water could clean me when nothing else could.”

 

He fell silent and Mac knew his friend well enough to know that Horatio didn’t expect a comment.

 

“It will be five years tomorrow.” What a stupid comment, he thought silently, as if Horatio would know, as if anyone could read the papers and not know.

 

“And how much longer will you take until you forgive yourself?”

 

Mac tensed and barely suppressed a violent reaction. Horatio was one of the very few people in his life that Mac trusted completely. He was also the only one who could ask him such a question without Mac hitting him. He knew that Horatio didn’t ask out of curiosity or because he wanted to do something good. Horatio asked because he had been there and it had almost cost him dearly.

 

“How long did it take you?”

 

It was too dark now to really see Horatio’s face, but Mac’s could imagine the small sad smile that crossed his face. “Almost too long.”

 

The pain in the few words broke through Mac’s defenses and he swallowed hard. Horatio was right when he said that Mac hadn’t forgiven himself, but how could he? How could he forget that he had not protected her, that he had not been there when she had needed him?

 

Mac shivered when he felt Horatio’s hand on his; the warmth was seeping through his jacket and he smiled when he met Horatio’s eyes.

 

“You couldn’t do anything, Mac. Blame Bin Laden, blame Hussein or whoever you want, but don’t take the blame on your shoulders.”

 

Mac wanted to, but Horatio didn’t know the truth. His friend had no idea how much he had failed her on that terrible day. Misery and shame battled in him as he thought of that day, thought of the ringing phone and his sharp annoyance with Claire. She had had to know how busy he was, he had thought. Looking at his hand, Mac shivered as he revealed the truth of his guilt. “I didn’t even take her call.”

 

The pain of his cowardice flared up as if it had happened yesterday and his voice trembled. “She called after the second plane hit the towers, but I disconnected her.”

 

He hadn’t known that he would never see her again; his mind had been too occupied with the rescue. He had told himself that he would call her, when he got five minutes. “I failed her.”

 

Horatio’s hand was reassuring and warm on his shoulder and Mac shook in response to the silent comfort and support from his friend. He knew that Horatio would never judge him, but would listen and wait until he found the courage to talk. “We wanted to go on holidays, somewhere relaxing. It had been such a stressful year and we both felt that we were drifting apart and wanted to stop it before we lost each other.”

 

He sighed and the hand on his shoulder tightened. Mac’s eyes met Horatio’s and once more he saw understanding and friendship in the blue eyes. “I thought we had time.”

 

Silence fell between them until Horatio spoke again slowly almost tentatively. His voice was calm, soothing and Mac felt how he relaxed almost against his will. “You couldn’t know, Mac.”

 

No, he couldn’t have known and still the guilt crushed him. Claire had called him, had wanted to talk to him and he had not been available. “She needed me and I wasn’t there.”

 

Horatio looked at him suddenly and Mac tensed as he noticed how the blue eyes had turned harder, colder. He almost ducked as Horatio began to speak. He expected an attack but nothing prepared him for Horatio’s next words. “And now you’re doing it again.”

 

Mac felt as if his friend had slapped him. He tensed but Horatio didn’t let him speak as he fixed Mac with his eyes. “Claire called you and you didn’t answer. I can’t forgive you, that is something only you can do. You can’t change the past, Mac; it is done.”

 

The shiver that made Horatio’s body shudder spoke of too many memories. It was the only thing that made Mac stay, the knowledge that it Horatio had been there, too.

 

“When Ray was killed, I blamed myself and asked myself why I hadn’t acted differently. I wanted to punish myself and closed myself off from everyone. I thought that I didn’t deserve happiness.”

 

Mac had never spoken with Horatio about his brother, but he knew the basics of his death. It wasn’t Ray’s death though that shocked him, but the accuracy with which Horatio had expressed how Mac felt. Their eyes met and Mac nodded silently. He didn’t believe in happiness anymore.

 

Five years ago he had believed in it, but then she had died and he had done nothing to protect her.

 

How could he not be guilty?

 

How could he deserve happiness?

 

“But, Mac, I was wrong and I was blind.”

 

This time there was no mistaking of the pain in Horatio’s eyes. “I almost lost Speed because I was blind. When I saw him fall, when I held him in my arms... He was dying, Mac, and this time it was my fault.”

 

It was Mac’s turn to give comfort and he squeezed the hand that held his tightly. Horatio smiled sadly as their eyes met again. “You know, I understood then. Ray’s death hadn’t been my fault. I couldn’t have changed his destiny, but Speed... If Speed had died on that day, it would have been my fault.”

 

Horatio broke off and closed his eyes for a moment. Mac remained silent even as he silently thanked God for saving Speed. Horatio would not have survived his death.

 

“Speed had been reaching out to me, reaching out for help, but I ignored him.”

 

Blue eyes locked onto his and Horatio’s intensity made Mac tense. He had never seen his friend so determined, so almost desperately focused and he dreaded Horatio’s next words. “Don’t make the same mistake. Don’t ignore him.”

 

Mac wanted to avert his eyes knowing that Horatio could read them like a book. He knew whom his friend was talking about, but he couldn’t...

 

“Mac, he’s calling out to you; don’t disconnect him.”

 

---

 

Danny sighed as he turned off the TV. He didn’t want to watch another documentary about 9/11. He didn’t want to listen to another survivor’s story or another relative’s tearful memories. He didn’t need a reminder about how that day had changed everyone’s lives. He had a living reminder in Mac.

 

Five years, he thought, as he looked into the fridge and searched for something edible. Five years ago, he had been as shocked and traumatized as everyone else. But unlike some of his friends, he hadn’t expected the attacks to change his life. They had shocked him and he had mourned for those lost, but they hadn’t made a lasting impact on his personal life.

 

Danny hadn’t lost any friends in the attacks; he had known people who had died, but he hadn’t lost anyone vital to him. Neither had he felt the loss of security as the TV shrinks called it, nor had he changed his views on the government or his thoughts about life.

 

Sitting up and reaching for his glass, Danny smiled darkly. He had never had that feeling of safety; before 9/11, he'd already known too much about the evil in every human being. The attacks, though terrible, hadn’t made him feel more vulnerable just as the increased security hadn’t made him feel more secure. He remembered something Speed had told him a while ago as they had talked.

 

I see them as natural disasters. You can monitor them, try to prevent them and maybe even manage them to a certain degree, but if a hurricane is on its way to Miami, all we can do is leave. And every once in a while, a storm will catch us unaware.

 

Cold as it sounded, Danny agreed with Speed and refused to live in fear. And so he had been right five years ago, when he had been sure that his life wouldn’t be affected by the attacks.

 

It was a bitter smile that crossed his face and he shook his head.

 

Five years ago, Danny hadn’t met Mac Taylor yet. Five years ago, Danny had no idea how the death of Claire Taylor would cast a shadow over his life. Five years ago, he hadn’t been in love with Mac. (Numbers under 100, spell out. And never start a sentence with a number.)

 

It had happened so slowly, so gradually, that Danny hadn’t even noticed. At first he had been impressed with the knowledge and proficiency of his boss and he had done everything to live up to Mac’s standards. Then one day he had seen the dark shadows under Mac’s eyes and spontaneously asked him if he wanted to go for drinks. It had become a ritual, something they did when one of them had seen too much. They never talked much during these evenings and they never had more than two beers. Danny never noticed how important those evening were to him until Mac stopped showing up.

 

He could still remember the case that had triggered it all. Ann Lee Goodman; she had been abducted and locked in her own body, killed and thrown away and when they found her, Mac had noticed that she was wearing a ring. Danny knew that he would never forget the look on Mac’s face and the sound of his voice as he had turned away and looked towards Manhattan.

 

Someone is missing a wife.

 

It was one of life’s cruel ironies that Danny had realized in that very moment how important Mac had become to him, because he had also understood that Mac was still living in the past.

 

A lot had happened since that day, and Danny’s chances at Mac ever sharing his feeling had gone from bad to worse to impossible. For a while after Sonny and the shooting, Danny hadn’t dared to call Mac a friend. He still wasn’t sure where they stood, but at least Mac had trusted him the last time Tanglewood come up.

 

Mac had no idea, Danny thought, no idea how much it had meant to Danny when he had been there for him in the hospital. He had toyed with the thought of calling Mac, but he hadn’t dared. He couldn’t have dealt with rejection and so he remained silent. Mac had seen it, he knew how close to breaking point Danny was.

 

Mac had saved Danny’s life that day.

 

So, yes, maybe they were friends again.

 

And maybe that was all he could ever hope for, and he had really lost his chance at happiness five years ago. Five years ago, when the towers had fallen and Danny had doubted it would impact him.

 

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

 

---

 

He must have fallen asleep, Danny realized as he opened his eyes. It had still been light outside when he sat down, but now it was dark.

 

Shaking his head, he got up and walked to the kitchen when a knock on his door made him stop. Who would visit him at 11pm?

 

He opened the door and froze as he saw Mac standing there. “Danny.”

 

Something was different. Mac’s voice sounded almost insecure. Danny took a closer look at his boss and swallowed hard as he saw the redness in his eyes. “Mac, what is going on?”

 

His formal answer seemed to throw Mac, but he didn’t give an inch, and as their eyes met Danny shivered at the myriad of emotions. He had never seen Mac so unguarded, so vulnerable, and despite his immediate withdrawal, he felt hope grow in him once more. Mac took a tentative step forward and touched Danny’s hand gently. The gesture was so tender that it shook Danny to his core and he knew that Mac saw what he felt. “Can I come in?”

 

It was five years since the towers had fallen and covered New York in ashes. Five years since Mac’s life had lost all colors. Danny stepped back to let Mac into his apartment and into his life, but Mac stopped once more right before crossing the threshold. “It ‘s been five years.”

 

Danny knew what Mac wasn’t saying as Mac slowly walked into his flat, he smiled. “I know.”

 

 

 

The end…