Categories > Original > Drama > Beat of Their Own Drums

My Wish

by Alcatraz 0 reviews

Mac quietly watches her as she gets her things, wishing she didn't have to go. Then again, he doesn't want her to throw everything away. Song used: Rascal Flatts' "My Wish"

Category: Drama - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Drama,Romance - Warnings: [?] - Published: 2008-12-25 - Updated: 2008-12-25 - 2902 words

0Unrated
A/N: A'ight, guys. I've been writing like crazy for the past couple of days and this is just the first of many that I finished. I seriously think I wrote thirteen oneshots about this length. Huzzah for winter break!

Disclaimer: I do not own the lyrics to "My Wish"

Song Used: Rascal Flatts' "My Wish"


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Thirty-Nine: My Wish
Puppet: Cormac O'Kane


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I hope that days come easy and moments pass slow,
And each road leads you where you want to go,
And if you're faced with a choice, and you have to choose,
I hope you choose the one that means the most to you,
And if one door opens and another stays closed,
I hope you keep on walkin' 'till you find the window,
If it's cold outside, show the world the warmth of your smile...


I didn't want to see her leave.

But I watched anyway as she moved to and fro, putting various things in the big suitcase laying open and almost full on the bed. I sat back against the headboard, feeling a little out of place being in her room and on her bed but unwilling to leave. I was going to spend as much time as I could with her before she left; I wouldn't have the pleasure again for another six months.

I looked away from her. Just the thought made my heart ache.

“You okay, Mac?” No sooner did I glance at the window did her voice call my eyes back to her. Until then, the room had been devoid of human voices; the only sounds had been the light swishing of her bare feet against the carpet and the light breath of two souls.

I looked up at her for a long time before answering. “No.” I answered finally, shaking my head a little as if to emphasize the word.

She didn't move for a moment, then when she did she came and sat on the edge of the bed, her hand drifting toward one of mine. She smiled sadly, and though it lacked the familiar joy, it still made my chest swell and my cheeks feel a little warmer. I loved her smile, and I think that if she were to keep smiling in Chile, she could melt the snow up on the Andes Mountains.

I would sorely miss it, but I wanted her to be happy.

“I'm sorry, Mac,” she apologized gently, her fingers finally slipping through mine, “if I could, I would stay...”

I shook my head again. She could say that all she wanted, but I knew better. She wouldn't have stayed; this meant so much more to her than love, than being close, than anything else in this world. She wouldn't have given up so much without knowing that for herself. I knew that. I gave her hand a little squeeze and smiled a tiny bit at her, wondering if she loved my smile as much as I did hers. “Don't apologize,” I murmured, “this is a good thing.”

I sat up straight and swung my legs over the side of the bed, then inched closer until we were sitting side-by-side. With one hand still joined with hers on her lap, I brought the other to rest on her opposite shoulder. I studied her face for a moment, then decided to speak again. “Promise me you'll be happy down there.”

Her blue eyes flashed with a conflict before she answered. “I'll try my best. It'll be hard without you.”

More than anything, more than anything,
My wish, for you, is that life becomes all that you want it to,
Your dreams stay big, and your worries stay small,
You never need to carry more than you can hold,
And while you're out there getting where you're going to,
I hope you know somebody loves you, and wants the same things too,
Yeah, this, is my wish...


“You'll be back before you know it,” I assured her, half wishing I could believe it myself, “you shouldn't waste your time missing me.”

It was hard, saying things like that. I wanted to feel as if she would miss me as much as I would miss her, but I really did want her to be happy. Not every girl in our senior class was going off to some foreign country to study. Not every girl was brave enough to take a chance like this. In fact, there were some girls who stayed home for a year or two; she was jumping right into college, straight from the halls of high school.

There was no reason for her to be unhappy. She had big dreams and, for the most part, little troubles. I didn't want to force myself into being one of those worries, those hurtful memories. I wanted her to live, because that's what everyone needed to do. I wanted her to be enthusiastic, because that was the thing I admired most about her. I wanted her to brighten some other peoples' day, because that was what she was good at.

“That's gonna be hard.” She said again, drawing me from my thoughts.

“Don't let it be, sweetheart,” I told her, my voice barely above a whisper as I gently touched her cheek with my nose in a featherlight nuzzle, “you're a lot stronger than you think you are.”

She laughed half-heartedly, the sound a low, breathy one that made me marvel at how much I liked hearing it, even if it was only partially there. I hoped she could find the strength to laugh while she was away. “Now where have I heard that line before?”

I smiled a bit, recalling a moment in time in which she had said the same thing to me. It had been extremely comforting to me then, and I wondered if it had the same effect on her, years after they'd been uttered for the first time. “You didn't put a copyright on it,” I joked, still breathing gently against her face, “I can say it all I want.”

She laughed again, only this time it seemed like it had the right amount of effort. She said nothing, though, and simply turned to face me. The tip of her nose brushed against the skin on my cheek, returning the tender cuddle I'd given to her just moments before. I smiled a little. “How about this: can you promise me that you won't stop dreaming?”

She closed her eyes and smiled as if confirming the question before she even said anything, her hot breath tickling my skin. “Definitely.”

Good. That was something, at least. I thought about asking her if she would dream of me, but decided against it. I peered at her for a moment, then softly, briefly touched my lips to hers. “And another thing: don't ever forget that I love you.”

I hope you never look back, but ya' never forget,
All the ones who love you, in the place you left,
I hope you always forgive, and you never regret,
And you help somebody every chance you get,
Oh, you find God's grace, in every mistake,
And you always give more then you take...


“And I'm not the only one.” I added as an afterthought, reminding her and myself of her family, too. There was no doubt in my mind that her father and older brother would miss her just as much, if not more than I would. We would all miss her bright smile and understanding blue eyes.

But this was a good thing for her. With that knowledge, we could bear it.

Her eyes opened, and to my dismay they were misted with unshed tears. “I won't.” She muttered so quietly that I wasn't sure if she was talking to me or herself.

I withdrew my hand from hers, and her eyes got a little wide and scared, as if she thought that I was leaving or something. I almost smiled in amusement as I cupped it under her chin and tilted her face, which had fallen some, back up to be level with mine. “Your friends down there will be glad to see you,” I reminded her, “it shouldn't be hard for you to make them as happy as you make us.”

When one had the ability to read the smallest of smiles, quick flashes of the eyes, or quietest of inflections in a voice, it was hard to escape from them. More often then not, people like that were feared, but not Paige; she could do all that, and was thoughtful and careful enough to not abuse her gift the way others did. True to her name, she was a helper, an extra, eager pair of hands when there was none. She forgave without a second thought, no matter how deeply she may have been hurt. She believed in the best of all of us, even when we'd proven time and time again that we were far from worthy of that unshakable kind of faith. Sure, it made her somewhat easy to manipulate by those with ill intentions, but she would always end up giving more to this world than she took.

If she lost any of that because she was too busy looking into the past and her old home, I would feel as if I'd lost her to someone else. And I didn't want that.

Not at all.

She sniffled and, with a sigh, leaned against me, her head resting on my shoulder and every muscle in her body loose and relaxed. “I don't want to go, Mac.”

“That's your emotions talking, Paige, not you,” I chided softly, feeling a bit cruel for sounding like Keefe but unsure of how else to respond, “you're already spending too much time looking back. You're the one who's supposed to look forward to things, remember?”

She had always said she prided herself in being able to look straight in front of her and forge ahead, so I couldn't help but think that had been a good reminder. Hopefully, she would realize the error of looking over her shoulder before she ended up tripping and taking a spill on this crazy race of life. Please, I begged silently, don't be sorry.

“Maybe this is just a big mistake.”

Oh more than anything, yeah, and more than anything,
My wish, for you, is that this life becomes all that you want it to,
Your dreams stay big, and your worries stay small,
You never need to carry more than you can hold,
And while you're out there getting where you're getting to,
I hope you know somebody loves you, and wants the same things too,
Yeah, this, is my wish...


I winced at the very idea, along with the confusion and grief in her voice. I couldn't really see what she meant; how was this a mistake? It hurt, yes, but it wasn't as if everything was going to go wrong just because she left. The sun was going to rise tomorrow. With every passing day, we would always be one day closer to when we could see each other again.

And she would be happier, too, because she would've done something with herself. I knew better than anyone that she had a drive to reach those dreams she so often had, and I wanted her to reach them. She would've completed her studies and could get a job, be ready for life out in the real world, just like she wanted to. We would be together and all that much more appreciative of the other's company, because we would know what it was like to be thousands of miles away.

If anything, this was a miracle. I wished she could see that.

“Don't you dare say that.” I growled a little sharper than I truly meant to, angered slightly at the suggestion. Perhaps I needed to be a little more vocal about things; tell her that I wanted this for her and that she was insulting me by allowing me to get in the way.

She was startled, to say the least, by the aggression in my tone. She withdrew her body from mine and studied me with big, wondering sapphire eyes, trying to figure out why I was so insistent. “What makes you say it like that?”

“My love for you,” I answered shortly, crossing my arms and feeling strange, not touching her while we were so close, “you're making me feel like the bad guy. I understand that you'll miss me, and I'll miss you...”

I trailed off, my anger flashing away almost as quickly as it had come at the confession. There was no way I could stay mad at her for too long; my heart was too soft, too pained right now to keep it closed. I uncrossed my arms and held out a hand for her to take if she wanted, but made no other move to touch her. “But I feel like I'll never get my wish if you keep talking like this.”

Her eyebrows raised and her eyes flared with a question. “Your wish?” She repeated, “What're you talking about?”

As she spoke, one of her hands, unable to resist my request, slipped liquidly into my again, her fingers filling the empty spaces between my own and making me feel all the more vulnerable. But I didn't mind it; in an odd way, I loved the way my heart could never refuse her, no matter how angry or upset with her I may have been.

I gave her hand a small squeeze. I thought of our song; that country tune she'd picked out that put words right into my mouth. Against my better judgment, I sang, softly but loud enough for her to hear.

“My wish, for you, is that this life becomes all that you want it to,
Your dreams stay big, and you're worries stay small,
You never need to carry more then you can hold,
And while you're out there getting where you're getting to -”


Before I could finish the last two lines, Paige had found the need to still my lips with a finger pressed up against them. I, unwilling to keep going because I figured I'd gotten my point across, looked imploringly at her, hoping that my little 'performance' had helped to ease her mind and assured her that eventually, things were going to be fine again.

She had to understand now.

For what seemed like hours upon hours our eyes were locked steadily on to the other's, not straying for a moment, hardly even blinking. Our bodies were still, too, save the ever-constant rising and falling of our chests as we breathed. Suddenly, I was once again reminded of the awkward position I was in. It was silly that I was suddenly worried about how we were sitting on the bed, but my brain was so taxed for words to say that it was all I could think about.

Then she moved, her face edging closer and closer until she pressed her lips softly to my cheek, so painfully near to my mouth that I felt dangerous tingles rip through my body. All of a sudden, all I wanted was to kiss her; we only had precious few more we could share, anyway. Biting my lip and forcing myself to not try, I gazed unflinchingly at her, still waiting for some sort of verbal reaction.

“Stupid of me to forget,” she said as she drew back slightly, talking to herself out loud, “I'm sorry, Mac. I didn't realize that it was bothering you.”

I was satisfied with that answer. Still restraining myself, I allowed a small smile to spread across my face. “Stop saying you're sorry,” I scolded, only this time it was playful, though it did have a serious edge to it, “I don't care what it is you're apologizing for. There's nothing to be sorry about.”

She smiled a little, obviously amused. Once more she chose not to say anything in response. She relaxed against my side once more and I rested my cheek against her head, her frizzy black hair brushing up against my skin and making it tickle. I ignored it as best I could, smiling contentedly to myself and once more bringing my arm around to drape across her shoulders. My eyes slid closed and I sighed, feeling as if I had just blown the weight off my chest like it was nothing but a flimsy feather.

“I forgot how much I like your voice,” she said after a long silence, sounding reminiscent, “it's gotten deeper since our choir days, hmm?”

I chuckled, recalling the times she and I had laughed at the antics of Mr. Hobbs. My parents never made it to any of our concerts, and I'd ended up going home with them every time. “I should hope so.”

“Sing for me again?” She asked softly, though it sounded more like a statement rather than a question.

I smiled a little sadly and complied.

“I hope you know somebody loves you, and wants the same things too,
Yeah, this, is my wish.”

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A/N: Yeah, I know the fact that he started singing the actual song is really super cheesy, but I really couldn't think of any better dialogue. As stated in a much, much earlier oneshot, "My Wish" is these two's couple song.
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