If you live through this with me
I swear that I would die for you...
-Hole, Asking For It
He had lingered outside at the fire with tha others as long as he could. Once the fire died down and it was jist him, he found himself nodding off at tha flames. Din he kinda startled himself, realizin' he fell asleep without meanin' tah in the lawn chair. It were at that point he pushed tah his feet, kicked some dirt atop the embers and din went back toward his RV. His hand ducked intah his pocket as he walked tah pull out his cell and see if Grace had called him up and mehbe he missed it. He guessed everyone were wrapped up in that moment. Standing outside the door tah the RV, he hesitated tah even text her cause he weren't wantin' tah interrupt her or nothing. Ultimately, he sent the message The door to mine is unlocked for when you get home.
Once he stepped inside he bent down, unlacing his shoes and pullin' them off. They was dirty and with ash and all and he weren't wanting tah track it through. Ko and them had bottles of liquor and he could still feel dat his head was swimming with tha sensation of it. He weren't drunk but tha buzz was a warm tingle dat, in light of what was goin' on, still felt hollow. Grace had known Mac better din he thought. It were hard to mourn the guy but he didn't want anybody dead. Naht really. Still felt really surreal, too, like he'd watched a movie and naht that he'd jist seen that happen. He'd tried everything he could think of tah keep it from happening and still der had been red spilt on the ground. And Ian. Jeeze. The kid was so tore up, Mac musta inspired somethin' fer that tah be tha case. It weren't easy when anyone died and he knew how numb and alienated he'd felt after Molly were. Pulling off his shirt and socks and everything, he slipped intah some long plaid cotton pajama bottoms and climbed up into the small cave where his bed were over the driver's seat. He used his phone as a little TV and put somethin' on sah dat his mind could rest elsewheres.
By the time they got back, it was so late and Grace was so frayed she could barely think straight. From being kidnapped to learning she'd only been 'kidnapped', the white hot flash of panic and hate when she'd watched helplessly while Josh made Mark dig his own grave, watching Cole fall, that agonizing moment when Silas' gun went off and she had no idea who'd been shot, Mac's body, the funeral... the tiny dancer was completely overwrought.
From the moment they'd piled into Quinn's truck for the long ride back from the docks, all Grace could think about was getting to Mark. She'd reached for her cellphone to text him, to let him know they were coming home, and discovered for the first time that it was still gone. Who'd had it last? She'd tried to think. Either Ian or ... Cole. She'd asked Ian about it, but the kid had shaken his head.
That meant her phone was still on Cole. And that meant her phone was gone.
So Grace hadn't gotten the message, but she'd made a beeline for Mark's RV anyway. It was crazy late - how late, she had no idea, but late enough that the fire had been put out for the night. She took a chance on the door, twisting it experimentally to see if it would be open. Finding it unlocked, she breathed a sigh of relief and slipped quietly inside.
Stepping out of her shoes, her wide green eyes slid left, checking his bunk for him first and foremost. The relief she felt to see him there, the faint flickery glow of his cellphone casting wan shadows over the side of his face nearly buckled her knees, and she caught herself on a chair, sagging against it for just a moment.
And then... then she couldn't get to him fast enough. Shrugging out of the coat she was wearing - a button down of either Quinn's or Levi's found in the truck, most likely - and abandoning it wherever it fell, Grace was across the small space and climbing that little ladder into the bunk in a flash.
"Oi, hey love," blue eyes shifted from tha glow of his phone tah her. Instantly, he saw how hungry and eager she was, climbing up with worn-out eyes and a tired set of lips. He pressed the side button of his phone tah shut it off and had jist tucked it in a side pocket o' tha wall. His body adjusted jist enough sah dat his bare arms could catch her and bring her intah his chest, "I'm sorrah about how things went. I didn't want dat fer anybody, naht even Mac." She kinda smelled like fire, except tha fire in her hair and clothes had sorrow in it.
Hoisting herself up onto the platform, Grace crawled to Mark's side. Strong arms went around her tiny frame and pulled her the rest of the way into him, and if there'd been any tears left at all she might have cried again right there. The girl drew a shaky breath, letting it out carefully, her face pressed into the column of his neck. Little fingers crept over his chest, around his ribs, clingy.
"...The son of a **** threatened you. I just... nobody deserves that."
The arm of his side pressed to tha mattress, folded to become a pillow, partly for him and mostly for her so when she pulled her head away from his neck der would be something fer her tah rest it on. He thought dat she would cry, he expected it and then when he realized she spent them all and had nah more tears to shed, he sighed. Could naht help but wish dat it hadn't struck the core of her as much as it did. Her fingers crawled over the flesh of his chest, his ribs, ovah the death and sun tarot. New beginnings. Endings. Transitions. A time fer growth and dat all things was changing. Yah, he were threatened and it had been real. Mac intended him tah dig his own grave and then plant him in it in front of tha whole caravan.
His reign woulda been a harsh one, anyone with eyes could see dat on the faces of those who was with Mac. Yet Ian, and even others, got a hesitation in themselves fer him anyway. Maybe something in that world made sense, but Mark couldn't see it right then. He turned his lips tah plant a kiss intah the teal of her hair as he whispered soft-like fer her heart, "When you trade in blood sometimes yah pay in blood."
It was a long, long time before she settled back, before the tension in her arms relented. When it did it happened all at once, her body sagging into the mattress bonelessly, her head pillowed on his arm.
Grace lifted wide green eyes to him, red rimmed and tear stained, their color an electric neon brought on by moonlight and too much crying. It wasn't any one part of it, though any one part would have been enough -- the whole domino chain of events was disturbing on a deeply visceral level where there were gouged out scars.
Her fingers lifted from where they'd curled into his back, slipping out from under his arm to cradle his face tenderly between them. "I'm just... so glad it wasn't you. All I could think that whole time was "Not Mark, please not Mark"."
"I still feel like it were some kinda nightmare, like I'm still in shock and dat tomorrow or somethin' it'll hit me and I'll have tah sit down or something." He felt too calm, too collected and accepting. And mehbe dat was because he had to lead things and have dat more collected air about him. Mehbe tha need tah do tha, tah be tha, had caused him tah have a distance from what happened to where he hadn't cried or trembled knowin' how close he were to sheddin' his mortal coil. The realization of it would come.
He kissed her din, cause she was cradlin' his face and he wanted her tah feel dat he was glad she'd come back and dat he was still there, in the world, tah be with her. Naht everyone had been sah lucky. His free hand reached tha side o' her face, givin' a long, gentle brush of his thumb along the ridge of her cheekbone as he studied her. "Right here, love. Naht goin' no where. Yer gonna be stuck with me fer longer din you want." He could only smile a little bit after sayin' as much.
Grace nodded. A nightmare - that's exactly what it felt like. "The whole ride down there. I would close my eyes and just... be horror struck all over again when I opened them and nothing had changed." Her lower lip trembled, and maybe there would have been a few tears left after all, but then his mouth was on hers.
Her kiss was urgent, needy. Seeking to reassure as much as to be reassured, her eyes were a little damp when he pulled back at last, saying what he did. There was a little glimmer of a smile on her lips, a ghost of its usual warmth, but there. "You're amazing, Mark. I love you so much."
"It's gonna be all right, love." another press of his lips tah hers before he placed his forehead ontah her own, like they was using that tah center themselves on one another and recover some balance. His breath came in and din he exhaled before speakin' again, "I love yah Grace and I dun... exactly know what tah do fer yah in this space dat yer in but say I'm here and let yah go wherever yah gotta." His eyes reopened, forehead nah longer leaned against hers sah he could more easily look her in tha eyes, "I wish we was like kids or somethin', yah know? Got no scars and all the open room in our hearts tah share."
Grace just shook her head, pressing her mouth to his as she lingered near him, even after he'd pulled back. "Mark you've been incredible. It's... " she had a hard time putting her complex, conflicted feelings into words. It would have been one thing if she and Josh had been a passing fling, a brief encounter. And their time together might have been insignificant to even Josh in the long run, but for Grace, the man would never not be a key turning point in her history no matter how much time passed.
Brows furrowed, and she was tracing little fingertips gently over the corner of his mouth. "You've got all of my heart, even the scarred parts, baby." Her voice was whisper soft. "And I... I want you to know that I'm here for you.You're gonna... Ian's... " Trailing off, she swallowed hard, her luminescent eyes troubled. "You're going to have to be so strong for so many people for... awhile to come, as all this settles. You don't...you don't have to be strong for me."
"Ian's taken whut's happened with Mac sah hard. Harder din I woulda thought but they been living in close quarters for a while." It would have to take Saila or Ian to make the true revelation of the depth of their connection come tah him. In tha mean time, he respected that Ian grown close tah him and tha road he been on with Mac was long and difficult. Now it were ovah, but nobody were supposed tah die fer that. That did bring a question tah his mind, "When things was goin' down you yelled somethin' at tha guy." Mark's hand left her face to rest at tha slope of her waist as he continued, "Whut were all tha about?"
Mark weren't stupid. He had a pretty good idea, but tha didn't mean you didn't hear someone out about it. Grace had been familiar, she had seemed tah berate the uncle for whut he'd done like it'd been over tha top, but naht unexpected. She didn't ask him why he were there or why he knew that Mac was a Nancy boy. She told him that he weren't supposed tah kill him. Grace had kinda given away, a bit, her involvement with how she had gone and worded things. Still, he weren't gonna assume nothin'. He'd jist ask.
Grace had seen enough in the truck to have a pretty good idea why it was that Ian was taking it so hard, but it wasn't her place to speculate or say anything. "He's going to need you," she said softly, her eyes sad. "They all will, but... him most of all."
Her gaze lifted to his from where she'd been staring without really seeing somewhere just past his ear. The pain in her expression was palpable. Pain and guilt. But she wouldn't deny it, or shy away from her responsibility. "That was Silas," said the girl quietly. "He is - or was, I guess - Josh's uncle, and he's who I thought you were dealing with when you first said it was the MacIntosh clan that'd come. He was in charge when I was with them."
Taking a deep breath, Grace let it out slowly, her brows furrowing as she wrestled with the weight of it. "I... called him. He's the only person Josh ever listened to, and he was ... always a hard man but he always seemed reasonable and fair. I told him that what Josh was getting himself into was foolish - and that I was worried he would get himself killed. I was just trying to... God forgive me I just wanted him to talk some sense into Josh."
"I told Ian he'd be takin' the empty room here with me. Keep 'im close. I dun't want him livin' alone or nothin." Mark said with a small nod. Then she was describing Silas. He remembered the name after she said it, but wouldn't have otherwise been able tah recall it. Silas. He weren't supposed tah... yeah. Mark couldn't remember exactly whut she had said, only that it hinted tah something. Mehbe it were that something which was wrestlin' behind her eyes jist then. He was tryin' naht tah be concerned about it, but he were lookin' concerned anyway. His eyebrows kinda knittin' together as his gaze followed the movement of her mouth.
"Oi, Grace, why didn't yah run dat by meh first?" Mark was kinda shocked dat she had just unilaterally taken tha matter intah her own hand. But... would it have changed anything? Was he jist hurt that she hadn't asked him or was he hurt that she had done the thing which "fixed" the whole Mac problem, when dat were whut he was supposed to do? Mark felt it was more of the former, though there was some pride which ached in the realization o' whut she'd done, "Whut did yah say tah him?"
I swear that I would die for you...
-Hole, Asking For It
He had lingered outside at the fire with tha others as long as he could. Once the fire died down and it was jist him, he found himself nodding off at tha flames. Din he kinda startled himself, realizin' he fell asleep without meanin' tah in the lawn chair. It were at that point he pushed tah his feet, kicked some dirt atop the embers and din went back toward his RV. His hand ducked intah his pocket as he walked tah pull out his cell and see if Grace had called him up and mehbe he missed it. He guessed everyone were wrapped up in that moment. Standing outside the door tah the RV, he hesitated tah even text her cause he weren't wantin' tah interrupt her or nothing. Ultimately, he sent the message The door to mine is unlocked for when you get home.
Once he stepped inside he bent down, unlacing his shoes and pullin' them off. They was dirty and with ash and all and he weren't wanting tah track it through. Ko and them had bottles of liquor and he could still feel dat his head was swimming with tha sensation of it. He weren't drunk but tha buzz was a warm tingle dat, in light of what was goin' on, still felt hollow. Grace had known Mac better din he thought. It were hard to mourn the guy but he didn't want anybody dead. Naht really. Still felt really surreal, too, like he'd watched a movie and naht that he'd jist seen that happen. He'd tried everything he could think of tah keep it from happening and still der had been red spilt on the ground. And Ian. Jeeze. The kid was so tore up, Mac musta inspired somethin' fer that tah be tha case. It weren't easy when anyone died and he knew how numb and alienated he'd felt after Molly were. Pulling off his shirt and socks and everything, he slipped intah some long plaid cotton pajama bottoms and climbed up into the small cave where his bed were over the driver's seat. He used his phone as a little TV and put somethin' on sah dat his mind could rest elsewheres.
By the time they got back, it was so late and Grace was so frayed she could barely think straight. From being kidnapped to learning she'd only been 'kidnapped', the white hot flash of panic and hate when she'd watched helplessly while Josh made Mark dig his own grave, watching Cole fall, that agonizing moment when Silas' gun went off and she had no idea who'd been shot, Mac's body, the funeral... the tiny dancer was completely overwrought.
From the moment they'd piled into Quinn's truck for the long ride back from the docks, all Grace could think about was getting to Mark. She'd reached for her cellphone to text him, to let him know they were coming home, and discovered for the first time that it was still gone. Who'd had it last? She'd tried to think. Either Ian or ... Cole. She'd asked Ian about it, but the kid had shaken his head.
That meant her phone was still on Cole. And that meant her phone was gone.
So Grace hadn't gotten the message, but she'd made a beeline for Mark's RV anyway. It was crazy late - how late, she had no idea, but late enough that the fire had been put out for the night. She took a chance on the door, twisting it experimentally to see if it would be open. Finding it unlocked, she breathed a sigh of relief and slipped quietly inside.
Stepping out of her shoes, her wide green eyes slid left, checking his bunk for him first and foremost. The relief she felt to see him there, the faint flickery glow of his cellphone casting wan shadows over the side of his face nearly buckled her knees, and she caught herself on a chair, sagging against it for just a moment.
And then... then she couldn't get to him fast enough. Shrugging out of the coat she was wearing - a button down of either Quinn's or Levi's found in the truck, most likely - and abandoning it wherever it fell, Grace was across the small space and climbing that little ladder into the bunk in a flash.
"Oi, hey love," blue eyes shifted from tha glow of his phone tah her. Instantly, he saw how hungry and eager she was, climbing up with worn-out eyes and a tired set of lips. He pressed the side button of his phone tah shut it off and had jist tucked it in a side pocket o' tha wall. His body adjusted jist enough sah dat his bare arms could catch her and bring her intah his chest, "I'm sorrah about how things went. I didn't want dat fer anybody, naht even Mac." She kinda smelled like fire, except tha fire in her hair and clothes had sorrow in it.
Hoisting herself up onto the platform, Grace crawled to Mark's side. Strong arms went around her tiny frame and pulled her the rest of the way into him, and if there'd been any tears left at all she might have cried again right there. The girl drew a shaky breath, letting it out carefully, her face pressed into the column of his neck. Little fingers crept over his chest, around his ribs, clingy.
"...The son of a **** threatened you. I just... nobody deserves that."
The arm of his side pressed to tha mattress, folded to become a pillow, partly for him and mostly for her so when she pulled her head away from his neck der would be something fer her tah rest it on. He thought dat she would cry, he expected it and then when he realized she spent them all and had nah more tears to shed, he sighed. Could naht help but wish dat it hadn't struck the core of her as much as it did. Her fingers crawled over the flesh of his chest, his ribs, ovah the death and sun tarot. New beginnings. Endings. Transitions. A time fer growth and dat all things was changing. Yah, he were threatened and it had been real. Mac intended him tah dig his own grave and then plant him in it in front of tha whole caravan.
His reign woulda been a harsh one, anyone with eyes could see dat on the faces of those who was with Mac. Yet Ian, and even others, got a hesitation in themselves fer him anyway. Maybe something in that world made sense, but Mark couldn't see it right then. He turned his lips tah plant a kiss intah the teal of her hair as he whispered soft-like fer her heart, "When you trade in blood sometimes yah pay in blood."
It was a long, long time before she settled back, before the tension in her arms relented. When it did it happened all at once, her body sagging into the mattress bonelessly, her head pillowed on his arm.
Grace lifted wide green eyes to him, red rimmed and tear stained, their color an electric neon brought on by moonlight and too much crying. It wasn't any one part of it, though any one part would have been enough -- the whole domino chain of events was disturbing on a deeply visceral level where there were gouged out scars.
Her fingers lifted from where they'd curled into his back, slipping out from under his arm to cradle his face tenderly between them. "I'm just... so glad it wasn't you. All I could think that whole time was "Not Mark, please not Mark"."
"I still feel like it were some kinda nightmare, like I'm still in shock and dat tomorrow or somethin' it'll hit me and I'll have tah sit down or something." He felt too calm, too collected and accepting. And mehbe dat was because he had to lead things and have dat more collected air about him. Mehbe tha need tah do tha, tah be tha, had caused him tah have a distance from what happened to where he hadn't cried or trembled knowin' how close he were to sheddin' his mortal coil. The realization of it would come.
He kissed her din, cause she was cradlin' his face and he wanted her tah feel dat he was glad she'd come back and dat he was still there, in the world, tah be with her. Naht everyone had been sah lucky. His free hand reached tha side o' her face, givin' a long, gentle brush of his thumb along the ridge of her cheekbone as he studied her. "Right here, love. Naht goin' no where. Yer gonna be stuck with me fer longer din you want." He could only smile a little bit after sayin' as much.
Grace nodded. A nightmare - that's exactly what it felt like. "The whole ride down there. I would close my eyes and just... be horror struck all over again when I opened them and nothing had changed." Her lower lip trembled, and maybe there would have been a few tears left after all, but then his mouth was on hers.
Her kiss was urgent, needy. Seeking to reassure as much as to be reassured, her eyes were a little damp when he pulled back at last, saying what he did. There was a little glimmer of a smile on her lips, a ghost of its usual warmth, but there. "You're amazing, Mark. I love you so much."
"It's gonna be all right, love." another press of his lips tah hers before he placed his forehead ontah her own, like they was using that tah center themselves on one another and recover some balance. His breath came in and din he exhaled before speakin' again, "I love yah Grace and I dun... exactly know what tah do fer yah in this space dat yer in but say I'm here and let yah go wherever yah gotta." His eyes reopened, forehead nah longer leaned against hers sah he could more easily look her in tha eyes, "I wish we was like kids or somethin', yah know? Got no scars and all the open room in our hearts tah share."
Grace just shook her head, pressing her mouth to his as she lingered near him, even after he'd pulled back. "Mark you've been incredible. It's... " she had a hard time putting her complex, conflicted feelings into words. It would have been one thing if she and Josh had been a passing fling, a brief encounter. And their time together might have been insignificant to even Josh in the long run, but for Grace, the man would never not be a key turning point in her history no matter how much time passed.
Brows furrowed, and she was tracing little fingertips gently over the corner of his mouth. "You've got all of my heart, even the scarred parts, baby." Her voice was whisper soft. "And I... I want you to know that I'm here for you.You're gonna... Ian's... " Trailing off, she swallowed hard, her luminescent eyes troubled. "You're going to have to be so strong for so many people for... awhile to come, as all this settles. You don't...you don't have to be strong for me."
"Ian's taken whut's happened with Mac sah hard. Harder din I woulda thought but they been living in close quarters for a while." It would have to take Saila or Ian to make the true revelation of the depth of their connection come tah him. In tha mean time, he respected that Ian grown close tah him and tha road he been on with Mac was long and difficult. Now it were ovah, but nobody were supposed tah die fer that. That did bring a question tah his mind, "When things was goin' down you yelled somethin' at tha guy." Mark's hand left her face to rest at tha slope of her waist as he continued, "Whut were all tha about?"
Mark weren't stupid. He had a pretty good idea, but tha didn't mean you didn't hear someone out about it. Grace had been familiar, she had seemed tah berate the uncle for whut he'd done like it'd been over tha top, but naht unexpected. She didn't ask him why he were there or why he knew that Mac was a Nancy boy. She told him that he weren't supposed tah kill him. Grace had kinda given away, a bit, her involvement with how she had gone and worded things. Still, he weren't gonna assume nothin'. He'd jist ask.
Grace had seen enough in the truck to have a pretty good idea why it was that Ian was taking it so hard, but it wasn't her place to speculate or say anything. "He's going to need you," she said softly, her eyes sad. "They all will, but... him most of all."
Her gaze lifted to his from where she'd been staring without really seeing somewhere just past his ear. The pain in her expression was palpable. Pain and guilt. But she wouldn't deny it, or shy away from her responsibility. "That was Silas," said the girl quietly. "He is - or was, I guess - Josh's uncle, and he's who I thought you were dealing with when you first said it was the MacIntosh clan that'd come. He was in charge when I was with them."
Taking a deep breath, Grace let it out slowly, her brows furrowing as she wrestled with the weight of it. "I... called him. He's the only person Josh ever listened to, and he was ... always a hard man but he always seemed reasonable and fair. I told him that what Josh was getting himself into was foolish - and that I was worried he would get himself killed. I was just trying to... God forgive me I just wanted him to talk some sense into Josh."
"I told Ian he'd be takin' the empty room here with me. Keep 'im close. I dun't want him livin' alone or nothin." Mark said with a small nod. Then she was describing Silas. He remembered the name after she said it, but wouldn't have otherwise been able tah recall it. Silas. He weren't supposed tah... yeah. Mark couldn't remember exactly whut she had said, only that it hinted tah something. Mehbe it were that something which was wrestlin' behind her eyes jist then. He was tryin' naht tah be concerned about it, but he were lookin' concerned anyway. His eyebrows kinda knittin' together as his gaze followed the movement of her mouth.
"Oi, Grace, why didn't yah run dat by meh first?" Mark was kinda shocked dat she had just unilaterally taken tha matter intah her own hand. But... would it have changed anything? Was he jist hurt that she hadn't asked him or was he hurt that she had done the thing which "fixed" the whole Mac problem, when dat were whut he was supposed to do? Mark felt it was more of the former, though there was some pride which ached in the realization o' whut she'd done, "Whut did yah say tah him?"