Spoilers for 2x21: All Access
Taylor felt like a spy in a movie as she told the cab driver to follow Mac’s SUV. The cab driver either had plenty of practice of this request, or had seen too many of the same films that Taylor had, as he tailed the SUV all the way to Stella’s apartment.
In all honesty, Taylor wasn’t surprised that she had gone home. It seemed like a very Stella thing to do, facing her fears. It also meant that it would be easier to keep an eye on her. If she could keep an eye on the door, she could stop Frankie before he even got to Stella’s front door.
An hour previously…
Mac pulled up outside the hospital feeling both weary and relieved… and more thankful than he had been in a long time. He locked his truck and headed inside the hospital.
He headed up the stairs, determined that he would convince Stella to stay somewhere else. Clean-up had yet to arrive in her apartment, and no one should have to look at all that blood and relive everything again. Part way up a doctor who was walking down the stairs knocked his shoulder. And then his world went black.
Currently…
Outside, Taylor stamped her feet against the cold. Thus far, all that had happened was the slow loss of feeling in her toes. No one had been into the building at all since Stella and Mac had gone up, and no one had come out either.
“It’s time,” came Mama Severina’s voice, scaring her.
Taylor shook her head. “No one has been up there. Frankie’s not there yet.”
“I think he is,” said Aiden quietly, appearing alongside Mama Severina, with Maddy.
“But the only other person up there is Mac,” Taylor pointed out. Maddy nodded. “But…” Taylor trailed off and glanced up at the building. “Mac!”
An hour and ten minutes ago…
Frankie was standing outside Stella’s room, watching her with that detective.
When he was eight, his mother had told him off for standing outside of her bedroom watching her, slapping him and calling him a pervert. All he had wanted to know, as children do, is why mommy had different body parts to him. Frankie learnt his lesson. And so did his mother. She never laid a finger on him again.
By eighteen he learnt that there were certain places you had to hit someone so that it couldn’t leave a mark.
By twenty four, he found that his tongue was capable of inflicting much more pain.
When he met Stella, all that changed. He changed. He became a different person: Someone who saw the beauty in everything. She was the reason for that. Soon after meeting Stella, he found that he was selling more sculptures. He had found his muse, and he didn’t want to let her go.
And he didn’t want the rest of the world to suffer for his selfish act of wanting to keep her to himself. So he didn’t. He let the world see her at her most beautiful, her most vulnerable, her most honest time: when she was making love to him. He even made the website in her honour, naming it after her. Of course, he could also show the world that she was his, and make sure that the world knew it.
And then his world came crashing down around him. Only days after he had poured his soul into a sculpture, a sculpture for her, of her, she had finished it with him.
Determined not to let something that good slip through his fingers, he took the key she had allowed him to make and gone into her apartment to surprise her with a candlelit dinner. Only, she had accused him of breaking in and told him to leave before he had the chance to tell her how much he loved her. And that hurt. That hurt a lot.
So he took the lesson he taught his mother, and tried to teach Stella the same lesson. Hurt me and I will hurt you. He was only trying to protect himself.
And then it all went wrong.
He was staring at this blonde angel who was standing next to his dead body. His dead body. He was still in shock when the angel took him to see Taylor.
Taylor Turner? What the hell was she doing seeing ghosts? He always knew there was something wrong with that woman. And that was when the plan began to form.
Stella killed me he had told her. Oh yes, it was a very clever plan. New York had the death penalty. And murder one was punishable by death, especially if the judges decided to make an example of her. And if she was dead, she would be with him forever, and even in death, he would have his muse, his beauty. She had told him she loved him. And the best part was that he wouldn’t have to share her with anyone.
And then it all went wrong, again.
He had finally shaken that annoying angel and decided to take matters into his own hands So he had gone to the hospital to plead with Stella to admit to what she had done. But she was too busy having her mind warped by that annoying detective she worked with. Fat or Flat, or something equally irritating.
So he had taken his anger out on the coffee machine in nurse’s office. He hadn’t been expecting it to actually go flying. So when the nurse came running in to see what the crash was, he decided to try his new powers again. Only this time, the nurse didn’t go flying… he did… into the nurse. And then he was in a living body again.
Curiosity got the better of him, and he found that he could transfer himself at will to a doctor, after the doctor had told him that Stella was being discharged.
He realized then and there that Stella wasn’t going to face charges. So he would have to find another way to bring her to him. He couldn’t do it himself. He couldn’t have Stella see him as the one that brought him to her. It would have to be a person.
Not the doctor, though. He wouldn’t be able to get near her after she left the hospital, and she couldn’t die in the hospital. There was too great a chance that she would be revived.
Her own apartment was his best idea. Somewhere she was familiar with, where they could be alone, that also had the added bonus of being where he died.
Tempting as it was to use that irritating detective, he probably wouldn’t take her home. No. There was one person who would take her home. One person she would trust. The person she had allowed to sit with her.
Taylor Turner.
Now, if only he could get to her before she got her. He didn’t need the doctor to come to his senses outside of Stella’s door. That would draw too much attention. He would just have to meet her before she got there.
He headed for the stairs, and started running down them. And then he saw him. Mac Taylor. An amused grin passed the doctor’s face. Either Taylor would be good enough. Stella trusted them both. Maybe it was something in the name? No matter. Stella would soon learn that there was only one person she could really trust.
Five minutes previously
Mac watched Stella go into the building. She had put on a brave face saying she would be fine at home. But he knew Stella. She would want to leave that place. She would want to go to his, to Mac’s. She would feel safe there. But that wasn’t part of the plan. It had to be her apartment. There had to be the connection.
He went up and knocked on the door. He could hear her check the peephole before she opened it.
“Mac?”
“I figured you wouldn’t want to stay here, despite what you said,” Mac said.
Stella slowly nodded, “I thought I could do it, but I don’t think I can. I think I might take you up on your offer.” She stood to one side to let him in.
“Actually, I think staying here might be the better option,” Mac told her.
Stella cocked her head at him. “But…I... I’m not sure I’m ready for it.”
“Stella, it you fall off a horse, you get back on again. You need to stay here, or you won’t.”
Stella sighed, “I know. I just don’t think I can be alone here.” She shivered. “It’s like Frankie is still here.”
Frankie beamed. She could sense him, even though he was dead. They were clearly meant for each other.
“What if I stay with you?” Frankie/Mac suggested.
Stella stared at him, wondering where this new Mac had come from. Wherever he had, he was right. She needed to stay here. “You don’t mind?” she asked, hoping that she wasn’t sounding as relieved as she thought she did.
Mac nodded, “I’d do anything for you, Stella. I hope you know that.”
Stella smiled, “Thanks, Mac.”
Mac?
In all honesty, Taylor wasn’t surprised that she had gone home. It seemed like a very Stella thing to do, facing her fears. It also meant that it would be easier to keep an eye on her. If she could keep an eye on the door, she could stop Frankie before he even got to Stella’s front door.
An hour previously…
Mac pulled up outside the hospital feeling both weary and relieved… and more thankful than he had been in a long time. He locked his truck and headed inside the hospital.
He headed up the stairs, determined that he would convince Stella to stay somewhere else. Clean-up had yet to arrive in her apartment, and no one should have to look at all that blood and relive everything again. Part way up a doctor who was walking down the stairs knocked his shoulder. And then his world went black.
Currently…
Outside, Taylor stamped her feet against the cold. Thus far, all that had happened was the slow loss of feeling in her toes. No one had been into the building at all since Stella and Mac had gone up, and no one had come out either.
“It’s time,” came Mama Severina’s voice, scaring her.
Taylor shook her head. “No one has been up there. Frankie’s not there yet.”
“I think he is,” said Aiden quietly, appearing alongside Mama Severina, with Maddy.
“But the only other person up there is Mac,” Taylor pointed out. Maddy nodded. “But…” Taylor trailed off and glanced up at the building. “Mac!”
An hour and ten minutes ago…
Frankie was standing outside Stella’s room, watching her with that detective.
When he was eight, his mother had told him off for standing outside of her bedroom watching her, slapping him and calling him a pervert. All he had wanted to know, as children do, is why mommy had different body parts to him. Frankie learnt his lesson. And so did his mother. She never laid a finger on him again.
By eighteen he learnt that there were certain places you had to hit someone so that it couldn’t leave a mark.
By twenty four, he found that his tongue was capable of inflicting much more pain.
When he met Stella, all that changed. He changed. He became a different person: Someone who saw the beauty in everything. She was the reason for that. Soon after meeting Stella, he found that he was selling more sculptures. He had found his muse, and he didn’t want to let her go.
And he didn’t want the rest of the world to suffer for his selfish act of wanting to keep her to himself. So he didn’t. He let the world see her at her most beautiful, her most vulnerable, her most honest time: when she was making love to him. He even made the website in her honour, naming it after her. Of course, he could also show the world that she was his, and make sure that the world knew it.
And then his world came crashing down around him. Only days after he had poured his soul into a sculpture, a sculpture for her, of her, she had finished it with him.
Determined not to let something that good slip through his fingers, he took the key she had allowed him to make and gone into her apartment to surprise her with a candlelit dinner. Only, she had accused him of breaking in and told him to leave before he had the chance to tell her how much he loved her. And that hurt. That hurt a lot.
So he took the lesson he taught his mother, and tried to teach Stella the same lesson. Hurt me and I will hurt you. He was only trying to protect himself.
And then it all went wrong.
He was staring at this blonde angel who was standing next to his dead body. His dead body. He was still in shock when the angel took him to see Taylor.
Taylor Turner? What the hell was she doing seeing ghosts? He always knew there was something wrong with that woman. And that was when the plan began to form.
Stella killed me he had told her. Oh yes, it was a very clever plan. New York had the death penalty. And murder one was punishable by death, especially if the judges decided to make an example of her. And if she was dead, she would be with him forever, and even in death, he would have his muse, his beauty. She had told him she loved him. And the best part was that he wouldn’t have to share her with anyone.
And then it all went wrong, again.
He had finally shaken that annoying angel and decided to take matters into his own hands So he had gone to the hospital to plead with Stella to admit to what she had done. But she was too busy having her mind warped by that annoying detective she worked with. Fat or Flat, or something equally irritating.
So he had taken his anger out on the coffee machine in nurse’s office. He hadn’t been expecting it to actually go flying. So when the nurse came running in to see what the crash was, he decided to try his new powers again. Only this time, the nurse didn’t go flying… he did… into the nurse. And then he was in a living body again.
Curiosity got the better of him, and he found that he could transfer himself at will to a doctor, after the doctor had told him that Stella was being discharged.
He realized then and there that Stella wasn’t going to face charges. So he would have to find another way to bring her to him. He couldn’t do it himself. He couldn’t have Stella see him as the one that brought him to her. It would have to be a person.
Not the doctor, though. He wouldn’t be able to get near her after she left the hospital, and she couldn’t die in the hospital. There was too great a chance that she would be revived.
Her own apartment was his best idea. Somewhere she was familiar with, where they could be alone, that also had the added bonus of being where he died.
Tempting as it was to use that irritating detective, he probably wouldn’t take her home. No. There was one person who would take her home. One person she would trust. The person she had allowed to sit with her.
Taylor Turner.
Now, if only he could get to her before she got her. He didn’t need the doctor to come to his senses outside of Stella’s door. That would draw too much attention. He would just have to meet her before she got there.
He headed for the stairs, and started running down them. And then he saw him. Mac Taylor. An amused grin passed the doctor’s face. Either Taylor would be good enough. Stella trusted them both. Maybe it was something in the name? No matter. Stella would soon learn that there was only one person she could really trust.
Five minutes previously
Mac watched Stella go into the building. She had put on a brave face saying she would be fine at home. But he knew Stella. She would want to leave that place. She would want to go to his, to Mac’s. She would feel safe there. But that wasn’t part of the plan. It had to be her apartment. There had to be the connection.
He went up and knocked on the door. He could hear her check the peephole before she opened it.
“Mac?”
“I figured you wouldn’t want to stay here, despite what you said,” Mac said.
Stella slowly nodded, “I thought I could do it, but I don’t think I can. I think I might take you up on your offer.” She stood to one side to let him in.
“Actually, I think staying here might be the better option,” Mac told her.
Stella cocked her head at him. “But…I... I’m not sure I’m ready for it.”
“Stella, it you fall off a horse, you get back on again. You need to stay here, or you won’t.”
Stella sighed, “I know. I just don’t think I can be alone here.” She shivered. “It’s like Frankie is still here.”
Frankie beamed. She could sense him, even though he was dead. They were clearly meant for each other.
“What if I stay with you?” Frankie/Mac suggested.
Stella stared at him, wondering where this new Mac had come from. Wherever he had, he was right. She needed to stay here. “You don’t mind?” she asked, hoping that she wasn’t sounding as relieved as she thought she did.
Mac nodded, “I’d do anything for you, Stella. I hope you know that.”
Stella smiled, “Thanks, Mac.”
Mac?
Originally posted 06/09/2006