Lindsey McDonald (morallydamaged) wrote in parabolical, @ 2009-12-02 21:53:00 |
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Entry tags: | cathy mcdonald (née hyatt), lindsey mcdonald |
Who: Lindsey and Cathy McDonald
What: Mid-fight, Lindsey gets his memory back.
When: Evening, November 29th
Where: Their apartment
Rating: PG-13 (Language)
Status: Log; complete
"You aren't listening to me!" It was the story of the past two weeks. Cathy stood her ground from behind the living room couch, hands balled into fists at her side. Never before in her life had she ever met anyone so stubborn, and considering that she was married to the real Lindsey McDonald, that was saying a lot.
God, she wanted to smack him.
"You were there, Lindsey, you saw what happened. How do you explain that? Was Eve 'acting', too?" He had all of the evidence there in front of him, yet out of sheer denial, refused to accept it. Because he didn't want it to be true. He didn't want her, or their life. He didn't even like the dog.
If Cathy was honest with herself, she didn't know what she wanted from him. But no, that wasn't right either. She wanted him to somehow morph back into the man she knew and loved, and somehow, in her mind, refusing to give up on him (even if it meant the equivalent of poking a lion in the eye with a stick) would somehow bring him back to her.
The fighting was the means to an end. Somehow, it even felt good, like she was doing something, at the very least.
"I haven't heard one good reason why I should!" God, he was getting tired of this. He didn't even know why he'd agreed to stick around. Something was going on, sure, but it wasn't with him. He was still sure that Cathy had something to do with his current prediciment, more than she was confessing too. Her reaction, her constant insistence that something was wrong with him, was really starting to piss him off. He sure as hell wasn't going to take anything more from her.
"Eve was more unstable than she was letting on, apparently." He'd liked the woman, respected her drive and ambition, but what she'd done to the firm was inexcusable and she wouldn't get away with it for long. Being reminded of it only served to make him angrier. He stopped a few paces away, turning back on Cathy. "We are done talking. I am done with this little charade. I am leaving and we are do-"
Lindsey hesitated, the rest of the word dying before he spoke it. He took a step back as he was hit, real memories weaving into the ones of the past few weeks. He closed his eyes, hand pressed to his forehead as he rode the feeling out. He'd been through this before, now that he could think clearly. The same feeling had hit him after Angel and his crew had pulled him out of that holding dimension.
Then the full weight of the past couple of weeks really settled in. "Those sons a bitches," he growled, leaning over the couch, hands resting on the back. "I'm going to kill them."
"You have heard thousands of reasons!" she begged to differ, and very vocally at that. She pointed to the door, voice rising, her own biting words overlapping with his . "Fine. Leave. But don't you dare touch--..."
Hand dropping to her side, she froze, watching him closely as something happened. She understood the sensation, Cathy realized hopefully-- the hand to the forehead, the pseudo-stumble even though there was no physical force in the room. Something had stopped him in his tracks, and she sincerely doubted she had finally managed to give him an earth-shattering migraine. She remembered, too, the rush of a spell breaking, the memories from her own holding dimension being yanked away in a completely overwhelming breath of air.
Please, God. Elaine. Please, please, please.
Bastard version of her husband or not, she wasted no time to get to him when he leaned over the couch, one arm on his hand, the other pressed against his back in both a soothing gesture and for support. But then, finally, he spoke. And she couldn't believe it.
"...Lindsey?" The question was tentative, as if at any moment he might snap at her, push her away, or God forbid, worse. But this time, she wasn't sure how quickly she'd be able to bounce back from the rejection.
His initial answer was a short nod. There was something to memory alteration that didn't take well with him and he had to wait for the moment to pass. At least he hadn't ended up so disconnected that he couldn't stand on his own this time. It didn't cool his anger any. The Senior Partners had fucked with his mind. If taking Cathy, forcing her to live through that misery in the holding dimension, hadn't been enough, they'd turned it around on him.
After a moment of letting the pieces fall into place, he lifted his head and stared at the wall opposite of them. He gently pulled his arm from her grip and reached out to put an arm around her and pull her close to him, kissing her on the forehead. "It's the right one this time," he said finally, trying to make sense of the jumbled state his mind was in.
The past few weeks, the background to the man he'd been, it was all there but he knew without a doubt now that those memories were the ones that weren't real. He was confident in who he was and the Lindsey McDonald he wanted to be was the one who had just come rushing back. He drew in a deep breath. "I feel like I was just someone's bitch."
If Cathy had never experienced pure joy before (and she was certain she had--certain memories came to mind, but that was definitely beside the point), this was what it felt like. The tension melted from her body, two weeks of stress and infuriation disappearing as he took her into his arms. She was hugging him tightly, too, pressing kisses to his cheek, his lips, his shoulder. "Don't ever do that again, okay?" she demanded with relieved humor, but the smile was too wide to fool even herself.
"You were," she teased gently, not a hint of bitterness or spite. The man who had been a living hell to live with, whom she had honestly loathed wasn't forgotten, but he was, in her mind, an entirely separate entity from her husband. He had been all along; Lindsey wouldn't be the one to bear the brunt of her frustration. The grin was mischievous, irrationally playful. "I told you so."
"I'll try not to." No matter how dryly he said it, it was a promise. He remembered the man he'd been the past few weeks, what he'd done. The man he'd been had worked to make himself the lawyer that would succeed at Wolfram and Hart. That had been achieved by smothering any part of him that had objected morally, becoming nothing more than some puppet of the firm. There had been little remaining of what made him him and he hated it now that he could compare the two versions of himself with the dueling memories.
"I am so sorry, babe," he told her as he stood up a little straighter. Instead of pulling out of the tight hug, he hugged her tighter, using her as the anchor he needed at the moment. "You know, you did. I might not have believed it but I'm converted now."
A hand rubbed wide circles over his back, her lips against his ear. "Shh," Cathy murmured, giving a slight shake of her head. "No apologizing, okay? You didn't do anything wrong." If anyone should be apologizing, it was Lilah. Like that would ever happen. The weight of situation finally hit her, Lindsey's reaction reminding her that, while it was nothing short of wonderful to have him back, there were still repercussions to contend with. It would be that way for all of the others, too, she knew. Comparatively, Lindsey hadn't had it bad at all.
She let him hold her, not wanting to be anywhere else. "I love you," she told him quietly, words meant only for his ears, and words she had missed saying. "I love you, I love you, I love you. Got it?"
He snorted softly. That was usually what he was telling her. But he believed that this time, it had been warrented. Even if his mind had been tampered with, new memories laid over and the old locked away, some part of him still had the potential to realize the situation and see it her way. Instead, he'd made her life a living hell for the past two weeks, vehemently denying
everything she'd told him. The pictures, the videos, all excused in some way or another.
He didn't want her thinking that he didn't want her. It'd just been the kind of guy he'd turned into. "I love you," he murmured, resting his head against her shoulder. It was only said once but the sentiment was all there. He was quiet for another long moment before he lifted his head.
Maybe Cathy was going to be forgiving but the rest that didn't know him all that well, those he'd screwed with in his brief tenure back at Wolfram and Hart? Not so much. He didn't feel guilty, at least not when it came to that, but he knew his temporary ambition had come with a price, tangles to untangle, things to fix. He closed his eyes, running a hand over his face. "I'm done with that firm. I don't appreciate being mind fucked," he said finally, angry.
Her eyes closed, the feeling of utter contentment entirely foreign. Maybe it should have worried her, but for the moment, she reveled in it. This was everything she'd taken for granted, everything she'd ever wanted. She kissed his temple when his head came to rest against her shoulder, unable to get enough of simple contact with him. He wasn't meant to be made of ice, like he had been for the past two weeks.
Releasing him when he withdrew, Cathy watched him, empathizing with his rage. She'd felt it, too, multiple times since the onslaught of attacks against them and their friends had begun. "I know you don't," she told him, shaking her head. "If it makes any difference..." She trailed off, taking a moment to organize her thoughts. Maybe this wasn't the time or place, but when she had the opportunity--since he had brought it up--she was going to say her piece, too.
"I know I said I'd always support you, no matter what you decide to do, who you decide to work for. But I'm very, very much behind the idea of you being done with the firm for good, Lindsey." It was blunt honesty. "I don't ever want you turning into even a shadow of that person. It was like someone had snuffed the vitality out of you, and that's just--...it's just really wrong."
She pushed a hand through her hair, looking up at him almost pleading. "Can you, um...Can you just promise me that, that you won't go back there? Please?" Maybe it was asking too much, but at this point, she didn't particularly care.
It should have been a loaded question. Since Holland Manners had recruited him to Wolfram and Hart, the firm had played a major role in his life, whether he was working for them or against them. They were one of the most powerful forces at play in the dimension and that had been a siren song to Lindsey. His childhood had been a struggle to keep fighting when the rest of the world had wanted to push him down. Introduced to that world of power, it had been intoxicating. Finally, he had been a part of something, recognized for what he could do, who he was. It was control, power, a reason to be reckoned with. He was someone finally.
That was the temptation that had haunted him after he had quit. Both times. The offer was still there, the chance to reclaim that power he'd once held, to get what he wanted. Even now it wasn't as easy as snapping his fingers to cut all ties to the firm, but it was easier to say he wanted to. They'd kidnapped his wife from one of the places she felt safest and locked her into a holding dimension where she was forced to live out what hurt her the most. The few friends that he had had been kidnapped, tortured, minds messed with. Now he'd become someone he loathed, remembering the mind of the man he'd been the last two weeks.
Lindsey never wanted to be him. Even as associate, junior partner, co-vice president of Special Projects, and CEO, he'd never given up that much of himself. That man had literally killed off the morals that he had left, ignoring intuition and misgivings to do what was required by his superiors to advance. No passion, no fire, no anger, no happiness, nothing that had led him to become the man he was today and he loathed it. He was not going to do that. Those memories he was stuck with but instead of finding a way to block them, they became motivation. He wasn't going to put himself in a situation where he would become that guy.
There were other ways of acquiring power, staying a player in the battle that raged on behind the bright light facade of Los Angeles. He didn't need Wolfram and Hart because he'd been better, stronger when he'd worked against them. The thought brought the ghost of a smile to his face. He nodded once. "I never want to be that guy," he said finally, looking over at her. "I'd rather be hot-headed, stubborn, and sarcastic. God I missed being me," he said, raising his hands. "This experience was one hell of an eye opener. Part of me thought I needed that firm. That I was at my best there."
The statement was punctuated by a disbelieving snort. "I'm not going back. They can take it and shove it."
Cathy only nodded, expressing her agreement silently. He didn't need to be told by her again what she had thought about the man he had been for the past two weeks. Since he seemed to remember everything with perfect clarity, she figured she had been vocal enough already.
Had it been that Lindsey that she met in the car that night, he would have been nothing but a passing, unflattering thought in her life. Probably something along the lines of, "God, what an ass," before she went along her way.
In the past month, she had thought she lost him twice. First, to death, secondly to some kind of potential, a person he might of been had things lined up differently for him. Now, she had never been more grateful.
"I think you are at your best right now," she told him honestly, taking a step closer but not touching, allowing him that distance if he needed it. She smiled gently. "'Atta boy."
It was a relief, but furthermore, it was finalized motivation to a plan that had slowly been forming for the better part of a month. The thought was lost as she remembered something, brightening. A hand went to her neck, pulling an old, silver chain from under her shirt, bearing Lindsey's previously discarded wedding band. She had kept it close--partially as a comfort, partially from fear of losing it.
Turning her back to him, she lifted her hair so that he might undo the clasp. "A little help?"
"I'm not but I will be." He still had his shit to work through but given the time and motivation, he was on the right path. From here on out, uncertainty could kiss his ass.
When she turned around, he walked over to her. The clasp was easily undone and he let the chain slide forward. "There you go."
Cathy smiled, a slight shake of her head following. "I think it's a process," she added, shrugging a single shoulder. "I'm still working on it, too. We're--the way we are, the world we live in--it's gonna keep us from going static. And I think we'll both keep changing for the better."
Maybe it was the optimism speaking again, but she had wholehearted faith, in both of them, for once. She turned to look up at Lindsey, taking him in as she caught the chain. "I love that we get to experience it together," she told him, not caring how hopelessly romantic it sounded, even though she knew it did. Looking down at her hands, she slid the ring off from the chain, holding out her hand for his.
She grinned. "Do you mind?"
"You're an incurable optimist, aren't you?" Lindsey asked, grinning at her. Not that he'd complain much about that. Sure, it'd conflict with his world view on some issues but he couldn't see them having the relationship they did if they were like minded people. She gave him something to be optimistic about, he kept her grounded. They just worked. "You're my one and only, babe."
When she held out her hand, he gave her a confused look, not sure what she wanted. But he put his hand in hers anyway. "No," he replied. "Going to read my future?"
Cathy gave him an innocent look, blue eyes widening. The smile was sweet. "Maybe just a little," she admitted, unashamed. The expression broke into another, purely happy, grin with what he said next. "Yeah, back at you, baby." She could hardly believe, now, after the fact, that she allowed Wolfram and Hart to toy with her perceptions of their relationship through the impostor they had put in his body. He had said things, hurtful things, and she had gone so far as to doubt him. If she, the life they'd built, was really what he wanted.
She couldn't believe she'd been so impressionable, so easily manipulated.
His retort had her laughing, freely and wholeheartedly. "No." But she took his left hand with her own, holding the ring between her right thumb and index finger pointedly on display. Then, she gently slid the wedding band onto his ring finger, even though her shoulders were still shaking with giggles. "Am I going to read your future."
His ring. He'd forgotten that the other version of him had taken it off and just tossed it. After she'd slid the ring on his finger, he pulled his hand from hers. "Good. I like my future a mystery." He put his arm around her shoulders. "I'm ready to distance myself from that asshole as much as I possibly can as soon as possible. How about I go get changed and then we go grab a late dinner?"
A hand cupped his face, a soft kiss placed to his lips before Cathy let him go with one final squeeze. "Sounds perfect," she agreed, throwing another smile over her shoulder as she headed for the open kitchen, taking Reb's leash from its spot on the wall. The familiar sound had the dog running from his place of refuge in the bedroom, having carefully avoided Lindsey for the duration of his little episode, save for when his voice rose in Cathy's direction.
The dog took a detour, though, somehow perceiving that the world was set right again en route to the kitchen. He barreled straight into his master instead, tail wagging so hard Cathy expected him to fall over. She started laughing again. "I think Reb might be the one you need to apologize to," she teased Lindsey, leash in hand as she walked back around to lean against the wall, surveying the scene.
Reb was a smart dog, or intuitive at least. Lindsey crouched down as the dog came rushing towards him, rubbing behind the dog's ears. "Apologize, huh?" he said as the dog leaned into his hand, groaning with enjoyment from the ear rub. "Maybe we'll get a bone on the way back. How's that for an apology?" Reb barked and with one final pet, Lindsey stood up again. Leaving him to go to Cathy, he headed into the bedroom.
It felt like years since he'd been in there and called it his. Theirs. He undid the tie and threw it on the end of the bed and everything else followed. He grabbed a pair of jeans from the chair, a t-shirt from one of the dresser drawers, and grabbed his boots from where they leaned up against the dresser. Grabbing his jacket and wallet, he headed back out into the living room.
"Let's go find some food. I'm starving."