"Worth Fighting For"
The day had been long and Mike was tired. Tired of working himself harder than any human should. Once he got to his room, Mike collapsed face-down on to his bed and grabbed the nearest pillow, hugging it to him and wrapping his arms around it.
Carrie, he thought to himself, I love you. I can't help it. I know that you love Austin, and that the two of you will work things out, but I wish I'd had the chance to love you, too. Maybe it was just never meant to be. "Mike Horton, too-many-timed loser in love", what was I thinking?
How could you ever love someone like me?
"Mike. . . Mike. . ."
Mike awoke with a start. He was still in his room, but he wasn't alone. They were here, all of them.
Trish Clayton Banning.
Margo Anderman Horton.
Robin Jacobs Kaufman.
April Ramirez Corelli.
Debra Thomas.
All of the women in his life who he had cared about were standing around his bed, looking down at him as he woke with a start. But he wasn't awake, he knew that for certain, because Margo was dead. And Robin was in Israel. And April was in New York. And Trish had been gone for years. And Debra was somewhere unknown. . .
"What the-"
"Don't ask questions, Mike," Trish said as she sat down on the bed and pressed a gentle finger to his lips. "We're here, that's all that matters."
"But why?" he asked.
"Because you're losing your faith, Mike," Margo replied, smoothing his hair back from his brow. "And we can't have that."
"You touched our lives in very different ways, Mike," Trish said, "and we're here to give back to you what you always gave so freely to each of us."
"Am I dead?" Mike asked, clearly bewildered. "Did I have a heart attack in my sleep or something?"
"No," Trish answered, smiling softly, "you're dreaming, that's all. When you wake up, you won't remember any of this. Now let us do the talking."
Trish, hard-luck Trish who'd never had a break in her life, took his hand in her own. "Mike, I don't think I ever told you how grateful I was to you the day that my stepfather tried to rape me. You fought to protect me and you even took the blame for his murder when I was the one who killed him. You gave me my life, Mike. You made it possible for me to find love with David, and even though it didn't work out, I am thankful to have known that kind of love. And that love is what I want for you. Please, don't give up on yourself."
Mike felt his eyes burn as Trish cupped his face in her hand and gently kissed him on the forehead. Then she got up from the bed slowly, and her form dissolved into a fine mist.
Margo, sweet and innocent, was the next to speak. She sat next to him and touched his face softly, with wondering fingers. She picked up a stray tear that had slid down his cheek and brushed the track away with her thumb.
"Mike, the few months we had together were so special, so rare. I will never forget how tender you were, or how you did your best to take care of me. I'm so sorry that things turned out the way they did. I wished I could have been with you for the rest of our lives, not just the two years that we had. I wanted you to know that no matter what, I never lost my faith in you and your love. You gave me the best years of my life, Michael, and I will always love you for that."
Margo hugged him and kissed his lips gently.
Miek tried to speak. "Margo, I-"
"You gave me hope, Mike," she said, cutting off his words as she began to fade as well, "When you were with me, I was never afraid of death."
"Margo!" Mike called out, reaching out for her. But she was already gone.
April, hard-bitten and tough, grabbed Mike's hand as she sat down next to him, and forced him to look at her.
"'Don't you ever, ever think that you aren't good enough!' You fed me that line when I was hitting rock bottom. And I believed in you because you believed in me. I was hanging by a thread, Mike, and you could have let go at any time, but you didn't. I know that I couldn't be everything you needed, but I tried my best. We didn't work out, Mike, but you gave me hope. And when I did find love, it was the real thing. I never would have known it if you hadn't made me open my eyes and start seeing life for what it was. I loved you, and a part of me always will, and I'll be damned if you walk out on something as special as what you have with that girl who has your heart!"
April gave a quick sob and kissed Mike hard on the cheek.
"Take care of yourself, Horton," she said, "Or you'll be answering to me."
She got up and walked away into nothingness. Mike watched her go, awestruck by her confession. He looked at Robin, waiting for her to speak.
Robin didn't sit down next to him. She didn't say anything. She simply stood there in front of him, the tears freely falling from her eyes.
"Oh, God, Mike," she said finally, her voice choked with tears, "God, I loved you so much. So much. We were some pair, you and I, huh?"
"Robin. . ." Mike said, reaching for her hand.
"No, Mike!" she said, backing away from him. "Please don't, or I won't be able to say what I need to say."
Mike obeyed, not trying to touch her at all, though it was killing him.
Robin swallowed with some difficulty and began, "You were such a basket-case, Mike, so full of guilt for every little thing that you did wrong. And you weren't always the most mature person either, if I remember correctly the way we met." She laughed, just a little, and it sounded like a sob. Then her eyes went soft. "But you were something special, I have no trouble remembering that. You were the love of my life, Mike Horton, the first, the last, the only. Anything before and everything after has paled in comparison to the way you loved me. I could always count on you, Mike, to do your best. And even if your best wasn't enough to make us work, I never doubted that you cared. And you are such a good father to Jeremy. He misses you terribly."
Suddenly she threw her arms around him and buried her face in his neck. Mike caught her and rocked her gently, one hand wrapped around her back, the other holding her head against his shoulder.
"I know that I asked too much of you," she said, her voice muffled and shaky, "but that didn't mean I loved you any less."
Robin raised her face to his. Both of them were crying. Robin kissed the tip of her finger and wiped away his tears with it.
"Be happy, Mike, for me. And take a chance. If I hadn't, I would never have known the glory of loving you."
She withdrew from his embrace and vanished into the shadows of his room. Mike couldn't take it anymore and buried his face in his hands, giving into his emotions.
Debra was the last. She was confident, poised, so beautiful it made any man's teeth ache to look at her. She sat down and put her arms around him, stroking his hair.
"Mike, I'm sorry," she said, "I wish that I had told Carrie that you loved her when I had the chance. You were the kindest, most noble man I ever knew and I'll always be thankful for your friendship. I wish our timing had been better, but what can you do?"
"Debra," he said raggedly, "I'm so sorry."
"No." Her voice was ethereal in it soft and gentle admonishment. "Don't be. We were just never meant to be. But if ever a pair of people were meant to love one another, to pledge their love, lives and futures to each other, to have children and grow old together, it was you and Carrie. Anyone and everyone with a pair of eyes in their head can see that."
Mike looked away. Debra put a hand on his cheek and turned him back to look at her.
"Promise me, Mike," she whispered, "Promise me that you'll try. Don't give up on this. Give yourself a chance."
"I'll try. . ."
"No, Mike, you will. There's nothing in this world of misery and injustice that's worth fighting for so much as true love."
She got up from the bed, and in a moment, she, too, was gone.
Mike, exhausted and broken, rolled onto his side and let the tide of grief wash over him. He cried until there were no more tears left, until his emotions were spent, until he found himself wishing even more that he could just end this pain and find a better place.
The darkness comforted him as he lay there, a shell of a man.
But not for long.
It began as the tiniest bit of light, forming before his eyes. Slowly, so slowly he thought he would go mad, the room was filled with a golden glow. It brightened in intensity and Mike soon found that he could not look directly at it. He put a hand up to shade his eyes and gasped as he saw the outline of a distinctly female shape walking towards him, walking out of the light.
It was Carrie. She was wearing something white and flowing and soft. She held out her hand to him.
"Mike," she beckoned him, her voice gentle and low.
"Carrie?" He couldn't believe his eyes.
"Yes, it's me."
"How?"
"Your guardian angels have sent you these visions in your sleep, Mike. Their prayers have made it possible for the women you have loved to be here tonight, to give you comfort in your time of need."
"But why are you here?"
"Because you love me, Mike." She bent down, placed her hand on his cheek, pressed her lips to his, soft as a butterfly's kiss. "And we were meant to be."
"I love you, Carrie," he said, holding her hand against his cheek.
"And I love you. Now take my hand."
"Carrie, I don't understand. . ."
"You don't have to. Just believe in us, Mike, and don't let go."
"Where are we going?"
"Does it matter?"
He smiled, and stood up. "No. Any place is paradise as long as you're with me."
She brushed away the last vestiges of his tears. "There will be no need for those anymore."
He looked into the light and gasped in awe at what he saw. They were all standing there, smiling and holding each other's hands. They were so beautiful. Scores, upon scores, upon scores of angels, smiling at him and at Carrie.
"They're here for us, Mike. They're making it happen for us. Take my hand and don't let go. . ."
Mike woke up out of his dream in a cold sweat. He looked over at his clock. Not an hour had passed since he'd lay down to sleep, but it was already starting to get dark outside.
From out of no where, the sound of flapping wings made him jump out of his skin.
He threw back the covers and went to the window.
There was nothing in the sky. He turned away, disappointed, but something shiny caught his eye. Someone had left something on his windowsill.
It was a pin. A tiny little pin in the shape of an angel.
Love, Mike, he heard them whisper, it's the only thing worthy fighting for.
Mike smiled to himself as he handled the pin delicately.
Thank you.
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