Ticket To Devon

[enzo_the_rhino]

Chapter Ten

Title: Ticket to Devon
Fandom: Green Wing
Characters/Pairings: Mac, Caroline, random catering pikey
Rating/Warnings: PG
Length: 677 words
Spoilers: Up to the special
Summary: Mac gets a visitor, she brings chips
Disclaimer: None of the characters etc are mine. They belong to Victoria Pile and Channel Four.

Chapter Eleven - Visits

“Oh and I brought you some chips 'cos you always used to say how much you liked them.”

“You're very kind,” Mac said, as he smiled weakly and accepted the proffered bag.

“It's just not been the same since you left. I used to look forward to serving you; you always had something nice to say.” She prattled on as Mac tried valiantly to conceal a yawn.

His visitor’s voice faded out and he concentrated instead on Caroline's voice drifting in from the kitchen, “I know you're hungry but we can't start tea until Daddy's visitor's left.” He couldn't discern any words in the toddler's following screams, but their meaning was an all too clear tug on his overtaxed heartstrings. His visitor also seemed to notice something was wrong as she stopped midway through an anecdote about poorly prepared cannelloni. “I should really be going,” she said after a slight pause, “it's bingo night at the local.” Mac couldn’t help but feel relieved as he levered himself out of the chair to show her out. He thanked her for calling and sent messages of good luck in the bingo and general good will to the catering staff and the two ancillary workers who hadn’t visited him in the last week.

 

***

Juliet was flopped down in front of a noisy cartoon when he re-entered the room and he could hear Caroline clattering in the kitchen. He leaned against the door post wearily for a minute and then remembered the bag of chips getting cold at the foot of his chair. He leant down to pick it up, and managed to catch it on the second attempt. He decided against trying to ruffle Juliet’s curls on the way past as he took his bounty into the kitchen.

 

***

                The chips went surprisingly well with the Shepherd’s Pie, although they decided to leave Martin’s homemade cheesecake ‘til another day, possibly one far, far into the future. Caroline took Juliet for her bath, bed and bonding session, Mac would have tried to do the washing up but they were running a bit low on unbroken china, so he just sank into the armchair and watched a report on how the planet was going to break in 100 years time. He couldn’t bring himself to care and switched over to a program about the history of rock music instead. Altogether a far more appealing choice.

 

***

                Caroline returned just as the program was drawing to a close. Mac considered standing up, then reconsidered and gestured awkwardly for Caroline to sit next to him instead. She moved the pile of magazines that Boyce had left and sat, leaning her head on his shoulder. “I know it’s inconvenient, all these visitors,” Mac started after a moment.

“It’s your own fault for being too popular.” Caroline told him teasingly, “They were the same when you were in the coma.”

“Yeah but I slept through that, I didn’t have to deal with them.” He concentrated on intertwining his fingers with Caroline’s.

“They’re only trying to help. They know it must be hard, not leaving the house much.” Caroline said, a little shyly. They didn’t talk much about how Mac was coping with his new life – they never got the chance with all the well-wishers.

“What could I possibly want that isn’t in this house? I have a shelf full of western movies and a plethora of stuffed toys to watch them with.” His smirk faded, “It just pains me to see how much my suffering affects so many other people. They all leave with the same look on their face.”

“It’s not your fault. You can’t blame yourself.” Caroline’s voice sounded falsely cheerful but Mac knew she was trying her best.

“I do though, I should have taken a leaf out of Guy’s book and alienated everyone in the hospital.”

Caroline snorted, “That would have been worse than this.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Mac replied, before disentangling himself from his wife to stumble to the bathroom, clutching at the wall to counter the familiar wave of dizziness.