Happily Never After

Summary: "Running away isn't the answer, Stella." When things go south in Mac and Stella's marriage, she runs to New Orleans hoping Mac will realize what he's about to lose, but when she has an accident, plans change. Will they get their happy ever after?

Disclaimer: We own nothing. Nada. Null. Though we wish we did;)

You might know us separately as babygurl0506 and Stardust585:) Well, we've decided to try something new and write a story together. This story;)

WARNING: This will be an angsty story with lots of twists and turns but there will also be Smacked fluff all through the plot and there will be a happy Smacked ending;) Still, if you don't think you can handle some Smacked drama before they get there, then…you've been warned. We sincerely hope you'll enjoy this story and will do our best!

Babygurl also created a beautiful title graphic to go with the story, you can check it out for yourselves here (remove the asterisks) or go to our profile page (there's a direct link pasted there):

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Enjoy:)

Chapter 1 – What Doesn't Kill Us…

"I don't think I want this anymore."

The gold ring glinted on the counter top between the two bodies. The one time symbol of their love now mocked her of the endless cycle she'd been in; him working late, her in bed hoping he'd eventually come home. She looked up at him with tears lining her eyes and shrugged as he sighed and ran a hand over his face. It wasn't the first time she'd made her unhappiness known. She took a deep breath, "Goodbye, Mac."

"Stella…"

"No, Mac. Not this time."

She turned and grabbed her suitcase, her hand gripping the leather handles tightly, giving her the strength to turn and walk to the door. She dropped her house key on the table there and stepped through the door as she heard something shatter behind her. She made it to the Avalanche and put her bag on the passenger side seat as she climbed in. Her eyes lifted to the door as she started the car, her silent final goodbye to this life.

The Avalanche slowly backed down the driveway, each inch giving her the confidence that she needed to leave. Her eyes caught his body by the door as she drove away and she released a long breath with a sad smile on her lips. She blinked as the tears slid down her cheeks and she drove out of the city and far away, needing the release.

"STELLA!"

She jolted out of the memory as a bullet whizzed past her head and she ducked lower behind the table. Blood pounded in her ears as she realized that she had let it happen at work. Flashbacks had been common for her the past 6 months but it had never happened in the field before. Her eyes darted around the warehouse at her team, watching as two of her men fired and helped protect one of the downed officers. Sweat plastered curls to her neck and forehead and she ran a hand through them as she reassessed what the situation around her was. She looked over to her right and saw three men huddled behind crates and boxes. Her eyes locked with a tall brunette and he nodded at her with a worried expression. She shook her head and screamed to him, "Status report?"

"One down."

She nodded and glanced at her guys again before pushing thoughts of New York and her past away and focusing on the task at hand. She sighed and put a fresh magazine of bullets into her Glock before catching the man's eyes again with a nod and turning to face the fire coming at them. She knew the odds were against her team; five shooters, home territory advantage, and an unknown supply of ammunition. How did I get my team into this kind of mess? This never would've happened with...

Shaking her head to rid her mind of thoughts of him she gritted her teeth and screwed her courage to the sticking place. Go down fighting Stella.

She came up slightly over the table and pulled the safety on her gun. Gun powder burned her eyes as she fired over the table, expending 8 more rounds before ducking back down. She released a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding and for a split second things went calm. She forced a hand through her curls as she reloaded. She turned to continue firing but stopped as she heard one of her team scream for everyone to get down before a rush of heat and energy threw her from her position and into the brick wall behind her, then everything went black.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

"No, Mac. Not this time."

These were the last words he'd heard from her in the last six months. They painfully ricocheted against his skull when he was at a crime scene, when he worked in his office and when he lay awake and alone in the king size mahogany bed Stella had chosen as one of the first pieces of furniture for their new home.

182 days, 4344 hours, 260640 minutes of sleeping alone, eating alone, shopping alone, being alone. He thought he had been lonely before but when Claire disappeared from his life, he knew it wasn't his fault. While his heart was still heavy with pain, he now realized, it wasn't at least burdened by the overbearing feeling of guilt. He had it easy then. He didn't even taste what true loneliness meant until Stella disappeared from his life. Because without her, there was no one. He wanted no one. He felt old and tired and he lost all the enthusiasm for work that always drove him and made him the best. With Stella not there to brainstorm theories, finish his sentences and lock horns with him, it wasn't the same. He didn't live anymore, he existed.

They had been too happy. Deep down Mac feared that so much happiness couldn't last. That he didn't deserve it. So subconsciously, he fell into the trap of a self-fulfilling prophecy. He began working longer hours, leaving Stella for longer on her own, finally he withdrew. He wanted to spare them both a painful landing from cloud number nine all the way down to the ground that had to come one day so he began toning it all down. He didn't expect it to go this far, though. He just wanted to preserve their happiness and instead, he lost it. He lost her.

Mac knew she was in New Orleans, and nothing less but heading the CSI team there. She didn't make a mystery out of it. When he learned about it, not without calling in some old favours, he couldn't help but be proud of her. Her own team. She was now calling the shots and making all the decisions, finally being able to taste the professional pride he felt every day. She deserved this. She could have never achieved any of this if she had stayed in New York with me, he realized with sorrow that quickly dampened his mood again.

In the months that followed this news, he lost count of how many times he had reached for the phone but never gone through with actually calling. She had left him and she didn't even bother to let him know what was going on with her all that time. Probably because she didn't care anymore, right? She had said as much that day. So why should he make the first move and risk getting hurt again if she didn't care enough to call him? He sighed knowing that's not how it was. However hard he tried to pin the blame for all that's happened on her, he knew he was as guilty, if not more. Still, he couldn't just call her. Damn his stupid pride. Damn his insecurity.

And then today, she called him. Or so he thought seeing her name on his phone's screen. He couldn't answer quick enough but his face fell when he heard a male voice on the other end informing him that Stella got badly wounded in an explosion during a shootout and…

After that, he heard no more. He slammed the phone onto its holder, ran out of the office and got on the next thing smoking.

Even though it was only a three-hour flight, it seemed to be passing with a speed that would make any glacier look like Usain Bolt in comparison. Every minute was pure torture, his mind flashing him images of Stella's bloodless face, her immobile body lying under a heap on debris or on an operating table in the hospital. She got hurt and he wasn't there. He promised he would protect her and he failed. His hand wandered to his shirt pocket, the one over his heart, and touched the small circular shape deposited in it, like it always was ever since she left.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we will be touching down at the Louis Armstrong New Orleans International Airport in fifteen minutes," came the pilot's announcement from the speaker, breaking Mac's train of thought. "Please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts."

Mac looked through the window down at The City That Care Forgot, bitterly making a mental note of how ironic the nickname sounded in the circumstances. All his cares focused down there and he doubted they would be forgotten any time soon.

As the plane circled above New Orleans preparing to approach the airport, he watched the murky waters of Mississippi glisten in the last dying rays of sun, which seemed somehow redder here in the South. It looked beautiful and mysterious and a year ago, Mac would have taken notice and taken comfort in that beauty of nature. Now he looked away, his heart heavy and his mind in turmoil.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Her eyes fluttered open as the pain reverberated through her skull over and over. She groaned and looked around seeing a man sitting on the edge of her bed and sighed softly, "Hey."

"You're awake."

Her eyes fixated on the man and she studied him for a moment before recognizing that he wasn't who she thought he was. He wasn't Mac. The man smiled and turned to her, "You know, you had the entire lab scared. Thought we were going to be looking for a new lab supervisor...again."

She smiled and nodded slightly, "Go big or go home right?"

She sighed and released a long breath, "What happened?"

"Stray bullet hit a tank of propane. Kaboom." She chuckled and gasped at the pain.

"You got really banged up, Stell. Concussion, broken rib, sprained muscles. We're lucky you survived."

She let her eyes glide shut as his hand caressed her cheek and she smiled slightly, "I'm fine, Nate, really. Been through a lot worse. Relax."

She eyed his drooped posture and tired eyes, "When's the last time you ate?"

He shrugged and glanced at his watch before looking at her with a small smirk, "Couldn't eat. Too worried."

"Nate you need to go get some food and rest. I am fine." She smiled as he traced her cheek again. "Stell, I didn't know who to call. You had a Mac Taylor listed as your contact and..."

Her blood ran cold at his name and she sighed softly as her eyes shut in silent hope, "You didn't call Mac."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

As he walked through the maze of hospital corridors to where the nurse on call had directed him, he felt his skin prickle all over with anticipation. The way to Stella's room seemed to stretch out endlessly, as if teasing him, putting him to the test and checking if his resolve wouldn't melt. Corridor after corridor, turn after turn, he felt like Theseus only his Ariadne wasn't there to help him. She needed help herself. And he wouldn't let her down.

And then he was there.

Seeing her again was everything he thought it would be and nothing like it. She seemed the same Stella and somehow she was different. Her hair was shorter. Her moves were more confident than he had ever seen before. Her eyes shone with a new hardness that only came with being in charge and responsible for the lives of so many others. And she was even more beautiful than he remembered. Involuntarily, his heart skipped an excited beat when he saw her smiling profile and he felt a wave of love and tenderness he thought was no longer there wash over him. He knew he still loved her and would never be over her but he didn't expect his feelings for her to be so intense. He took a deep breath to calm himself down and was about to go in when he saw that there was someone else in the room, sitting beside Stella's bed and out of Mac's sight. Until now when he got up and stood over her. Yes, it was a he. Mac froze. He watched transfixed as the man bent over Stella and touched a hand to her cheek, concern and tenderness in his expression.

I'm supposed to be standing there. I'm supposed to be the one to comfort and touch her like that, a part of his brain offered angrily. No, you're not anymore, another part of his brain viciously interrupted.

Enough. If he let those thoughts any further in, he'd simply turn away and walk out of her life for good. And in his heart of hearts, he didn't want that.

He went in trying to look more confident than he felt. He cleared his throat and the man snatched his hand away from Stella's cheek. They both looked at him.

Mac saw Stella was flustered and as she looked at him, her eyes flashed with frustration mixed with intensity but there was something deeper behind her eyes he couldn't put a finger on. He didn't have any more time to figure it out anyway as Stella's companion came to stand protectively between him and Stella's bed, effectively shielding her from him. From him. Mac felt his irritation increase further. He ground his teeth.

"Sorry, who are you?" the man said in a wary voice, his hand hovering near his side where Mac supposed he kept a gun under his jacket.

"The man who's going to kick your ass if you don't move away this instant," he said in a tone that indicated he was simmering inside and just barely keeping himself in check.

"Detective Mac Taylor from the NY Crime Lab, Nate," Stella spoke from her bed in a tired voice. "The one you called, remember?" she added acrimoniously.

Nate pretended he didn't hear the barb in her voice and extended a hand to Mac with a wide smile. For a moment Mac considered breaking it but decided injuring Stella's team members before he even said 'hi' to her would hardly ingratiate him to her. Which didn't mean he wouldn't consider the said course of action later.

"Detective Taylor, I'm so sorry, I had no idea you'd get here so fast," Nate said apologetically. He seemed to mean it, too. "It's an honour to meet you, sir," he added eagerly. "You're a CSI legend, sir."

Mac concluded that maybe he would forego limb-breaking after all. For now.

He took Nate's hand and shook it lightly. He had a firm, strong grip.

"Thanks, I guess," Mac managed although it came out a bit strained. "Could you leave us alone? I'd like to talk to Stella."

"Um…yeah, sure," he nodded, a bit taken aback. He threw a concerned look back to Stella, and after being granted with a small smile and nod, left quickly.

Mac watched him leave and then closed the door. He turned back to his wife.

"You didn't have to act like that to him." Her green eyes met his blue ones with a newly found edge and she took a deep breath, "He didn't do anything to deserve that and you know it. He didn't know who you were," She shifted slightly and winced at the pain for a moment.

Bad enough that she was in pain and beaten up, but having him here only enhanced the pain. If she had to be honest, she wasn't even thinking of moving on; she couldn't. Mac still held her heart, and as much as she hated to admit it, she still wanted him to be in her life. This move was meant to help them, to make him realize what he would be losing, but 6 months had come and gone and he hadn't even tried to win her back. She would never admit it to anyone but deep down, the emptiness that had been brewing during their marriage only got worse as the months away from him stretched on. Seeing him, and how big a toll this had taken on him, she couldn't help but feel at fault. She'd done this to him; the aging, the pain – all of it had been at her hand, and she hated herself for putting the man she loved through it. But it needed to be done, he needed to know that she deserved better than being ignored at home while he worked hour after hour.

She turned off her thoughts and glanced up at him, wanting to apologize and open her arms to him. And then she heard it.

"He didn't know?" he asked. There was a sharp note in his voice, half incredulity, half something else. "And whose fault is that?"

"Oh, yeah. It's my fault you acted like a jerk to a completely innocent guy!"

"A guy that you seem to care a lot about," he said, his jaw set. "I saw you with him from the corridor. He looks like more than just some innocent guy," he couldn't stop the jealousy that seemed to be eating away at him ever since his eyes fell on Nate.

"That's none of your business…" she began, sounding as tense and fragile as an overtightened violin string. She became visibly paler but seemed determined to hold her ground, her eyes flashing when she looked at him.

"Like hell it is!" he raised his voice, cutting her off. He saw her become paler still and he took a breath to calm himself down. "I'm sorry. But I'm still your husband, Stella," he added softly.

"Are you really?" she asked crossing her hands over her chest. He could now see the angry cuts and bruises on her forearms she'd sustained in the explosion and his heart tightened as if the wounds were his own. "Maybe on paper, Mac."

Her words cut like a knife.

"Paper or not, that's the fact," he enunciated. "If you want to start a new life with whatshisname there, why didn't you file for divorce? It would have been simpler, cleaner. More honest. To me, you. And him," he added, furious anger taking the best of him at the very thought. He left out that he would have never signed those papers in the first place.

Her eyes hardened as she listened to him. He seemed so convinced that she was in a relationship with Nate. "Hey, what has or has not transpired between me and Nate is none of your concern."

Her fists clenched as she looked back at him, "Why are you even here, Mac? Are you here to try and guilt me into coming back? To ask for divorce? Or to let off some steam at my expense? Surely you're precious lab in New York must be burning down without you there; why even bother coming to check on me. It's not like you ever cared before."

"Stella, that's not fair…"

"Not fair? What you did to me is not fair, Mac! But you seem perfectly all right with that and how it all turned out."

"You seem to be totally all right without me as well!" he said angrily. "I see you've moved on pretty fast with whatshisface!"

She swallowed hard and stared at her hands, "His name is Nate. He's a talented CSI and my second in command here, Mac. He saved my life today when you weren't there."

Mac swallowed hard. She had hit bull's eye and struck straight at his deepest-running layer of regret and guilt. "I see he seems to be doing a lot of things in my place for you," he said acrimoniously, attack being the only line of defense his tormented and battered mind seemed to be feeding him.

She looked up at him with clarity reflecting in her green eyes and tears lining her lower lid, "He doesn't know about you; about any of it. I want it that way. I NEED it that way, Mac. I can't keep having you around me when I know there's no 'happy ever after' that's going to come from it. There's nothing left there. I gave you everything I had and it wasn't enough and damn it, I cannot keep giving."

Her eyes diverted for a moment as she lowered her voice and gathered herself together before looking back at him with renewed vigor as she spoke in a soft but firm, deliberate tone, "Go home, Mac. Go home and work. That's all you ever cared to do anyway."

She turned her head as a tear slid down her cheek and she wiped it away angrily. He didn't deserve to see her cry. He didn't deserve to know how torn up she was that he had stopped caring and that things had crumbled between them. If he had wanted her so bad, he wouldn't have let the marriage dissolve to the state it was in.

There was such finality in her voice and such confidence in her words that he found himself empty, all his weapons knocked out of his hands by her soft, emotionless tone and sound reasoning. She had obviously given this a lot of thought…and maybe she was right? Maybe there was nothing left? But how could it be so if he still felt so strong about her, his heart pining for her even now, after all that had been said and done. But how could he convince her of that? How could he prove to her that he had never stopped caring about her and loving her? And did she even want that anymore? A life with him? He couldn't guarantee her the happy ending she wanted, no one could. He saw he wasn't what she was looking for anymore. And with that knowledge, could he really barge back into her life, a new life that she had so painstakingly rebuilt? He realized he couldn't do that to her. He had hurt her enough.

She didn't deserve a man so scarred and damaged like him and she didn't deserve to be burdened by the knowledge that the said man still loved her. What good would it do now, even if he told her he loved her and wanted her to come back? It would only open up the barely healed wounds and cause more pain to them both. She was better off without him.

"Stella…" he tried but she raised her hand to silence him.

She licked her lips and gave a small shake of her head. She'd never let him in this way ever again. "Please Mac, I am not in the mood. Just go."

As he studied her carefully, thinking it would be the last time, the detective in him slowly resurface and a new thought struck him. Was she really happy or was that just a mask she pasted on for him? Her eyes gleamed with a stormy green light but underneath her glare there was a dark abyss he hadn't noticed before. Her features were constantly taut and her body language and movements betrayed how stressed out and on edge she really was.

The woman he loved wasn't happy. He doubted he could be the man to make her happy again but he could still be there for her. He remembered that back before all this happened, a long long time ago, they also used to be best friends. They were such a close-knit tandem that people would mistake them for an old marriage long before they actually tied the knot. If he couldn't be her love, he would settle for being her friend again. It was better than being deprived of her in his life completely. Death would be better than that. So he would try.

"Fine," he only said, making a mental note to cancel his flight back to New York and call Danny to take charge of the lab for the time being.

She looked up into his tormented blue eyes and knew that this battle wasn't over yet. She settled in for what was sure to be one hell of a fight and prepared herself for the turmoil to come.

Mac turned on his feet and walked out with a small nod. The battle wasn't over yet and the Marines were always the last to leave the battlefield. And they were the ones left standing.

tbc.

Thanks for reading, we hope you liked this and lots more to come! We'd love to hear back from you and know what you think! Also, if you haven't, we'd really like if you checked out our separate stories, too:) babygurl&Stardust