If You See God, Tell Him ~ William & Mariana.
The sound of a full mug, a peace offering, placed hesitantly on the desk in front of him dragged Will back out of his black-edged haze, staring blankly at the computer screen. Lines of text, numbers and letters, scrolled fuzzily before his eyes. He had stopped concentrating hours ago. Usually, work was the one thing that took his mind off the outside world, the one thing into which he could focus on in order to block out the pit into which his life was steadily tumbling. Work certainly didn’t seem to be helping today.
Craig Kinney, the one man to whom Will, in this particular state of mind, might not have been so hideously vicious, stood in front of his desk with a crooked half-smile and the offer of coffee. Will didn’t say a word, but slid his fingers through the handle, lifted the mug to his lips and tried not to look too appreciative.
“I’m surprised you’re still here. She must be doing well.”
“What?” It wasn’t often that Craig managed to talk the better of his boss, but, for once, Will was completely bemused.
The younger man’s eyebrows furrowed a little in honest confusion, a small crease in the centre of his forehead. “Mariana.” He said, like it was obvious.
“What about her?”
“Craig, coffee’s brilliant but small talk is not. I have absolutely no time for plenty of things right now, and this is definitely one of them. What the ever-loving fuck are you on about?”
“Will – She was admitted to the hospital hours ago. She’s having the baby.” Craig swallowed, taking an involuntary step backwards. He had worked for Vaizey back home in the Southlands, and knew exactly what that man was capable of. “We thought… We thought you knew.”
Fighting to keep his head as he set the mug back to his desk with shaking hands and rose to his feet, Will looked across the room and through the glass windows of his office, into the main room beyond, where the majority of business was done. A considerable percentage of those staring had had the forethought to look away before their boss turned those eyes on them, but Will caught a good few sheepishly turn back to their books and laptops the second his attention fell upon them. The thought hit him like the metaphorical ton of bricks, a knuckle-dusted punch to the stomach that knocked the air clean out of his lungs.
They knew. Everyone knew, except him. And they’d let him sit here, at this fucking desk, with these fucking charts, without breathing a fucking word. He was going to kill them. All of them.
“Will—” The glare stopped Craig in his tracks, those dark eyes painting Will the worst he had ever seen him in Storybrooke. Usually, the man held it together, and had managed to for over a year now – But if there was anything that was going to see him shatter, it was this. Will picked up the scorching hot mug, still three-quarters full, in the palm of his hand, ignoring the pain growing hotter and hotter, and hurled it into that glass window with an animalistic snarl on his lips. The china drove a spider web crack in the transparent screen that branched from ceiling to floor from the force of Will’s rage, and drenched the carpeted floor in brown liquid. He didn’t bother to retrieve his coat or bag as he shoved forcefully passed his gaping PA and stalked out of the office.
He slammed the door as he swept out, and heard the window finally shatter to pieces behind him. Will didn’t look back.
“Mrs. de Laci – Mariana de Laci. L-A-C-I, for God’s sake.” Both elbows on the desk, both hands through his hair, Will could feel his pulse pounding. Underneath the strength of all that anger was a chilling, deep-rooted fear. Had she asked for him, and he hadn’t come? Or, worse still, did she not want him anywhere near her, let alone the child? Was she alright? Was the baby alright? He had had such dreams, such fantasies, of this moment, of holding Mariana’s hand, of holding their child for the very first time. That, along with everything else, had fallen to shit – The anti-Midas touch.
Unable to spare a nurse, the receptionist pointed him vaguely in the direction of the maternity ward, towards the back of the hospital, but was not at liberty to share any further details about her condition, or the child’s, apparetly at the mother’s own request, no matter how hard Will pressed. He took off in a stride, nearly running, loosening the tie around his throat and unfastening his top button as he turned the corner, and was confronted with the one man he really, really didn’t want to face right now. ‘Go to your brother’s’ had been all well and good, until one considered what Mariana might have told her unnecessarily tall, body-building personal trainer of a big brother about the current state of her relationship.
It certainly wasn’t sweetness and light.
“Ed. Ed, let me in.”