“He didn’t have a chance. They shot him in the chest. Autopsy later confirmed the bullet grazed his heart and his aorta, so he bled out within seconds. I just hope it was fast enough that he wasn’t in pain for too long.”
Her sobs were muffled by Oliver’s sweater. The Agent carefully caressed his hand up and down her spine, holding Marta’s broken heart together with every touch of his fingers. He really had a healing aura.
“I am so sorry, Marta. I’m so sorry this happened to you,” he whispered against her head.
The story shocked him deep into his core. To the very marrow of his bones. What this woman had experienced was something he wouldn’t wish upon his greatest enemy. It was cruel, heartbreaking, and soul crushing.
“The mafioso was still in the house. He shot me in my shoulder and lower stomach. I lost the baby I was carrying.”
Her shoulders shook even more intensely and Oliver’s heart twisted in his chest.
Marta had been pregnant. She’d lost her husband and her baby within a few short minutes. How cruel could fate be to someone?
“I am so, so sorry,” Oliver mumbled over and over, the hand that still caressed her back slightly shaking with the strength of his emotions. The last time he’d felt like that was after he’d found Butch in the hideout in Iraq and then again when the doctors told him about the massive amount of injuries his best friend had received.
“I thought I would die that day.”
The sentence sent a shiver up Oliver’s spine and he released Marta from his embrace. With a strong grip he held her shoulders in place and looked at her with a mixture of pity, sadness and happiness. It might have looked kind of creepy, but Marta didn’t mind.
“But you didn’t. And I’m very happy about that.”
Marta gaped at him with shock on her face, and hadn't expected him to enjoy her company that much.
“But I didn’t,” she repeated.
“Marta, what happened to you is horrible. I can’t even imagine how you feel about it. I’m so sorry that I annoyed you the whole day with bullshit like baking cookies and having dinner with me. I didn’t know what an important day this was for you.”
His eyes held tears of their own. Tears of guilt, tears that showed how much his heart broke for the woman in front of him.
“No. Don’t be! I’m happy you distracted me today. Believe it or not, I really had a great day despite the circumstances. I…I just hadn’t expected that song would bring back the trauma so heavily,” she sighed.
“Why this song?” Oliver asked, confused, but Marta surely hadn’t heard him as she was too lost in her thoughts, reliving the worst moments of her life.
“When I woke from the coma a few weeks later, a police officer told me that our neighbor heard the commotion and called the police. He saved my life. They arrived in time, just a minute after I was shot the second time. Because the neighbor reported that he had heard a gunshot, the emergency operator decided to send an ambulance as well. None of the bullets had hit a major artery so they were able to get me to a hospital in time. Of course I had lost a lot of blood and one of my ovaries as well as my colon were damaged, but in comparison to Frank…I was lucky. I thanked both of my heroes by buying them flowers. Ridiculous I know, in comparison to them saving my life, but I wanted to do something. I visited the emergency operator at work and gave her a big hug. Her name is Beckett and she had the warmest smile ever when I met her. She insisted she was just doing her job but for me she was a lifesaver. I wouldn’t be here without her.”
Oliver looked at her with pity. It still wasn’t the explanation for the breakdown she had when she heard the song, but he was patient. He could give her all the time she needed to tell him about this horrible memory.
“The last thing I remember before I lost consciousness was that song and how awkwardly fitting it was to my situation,” Marta sighed, but her eyes stayed dry this time.
She'd used up all her tears already. Oliver tilted his head a little, a painful grimace on his face.
“I’m so sorry,” he said again, like a broken record, because that was actually all he could say.
He was a tumult of emotions but wasn’t able to put them into words. Wasn’t able to vocalize something that would make her feel better. Could take the pain from her. Because he knew he would never be able to.
“Sorry if that destroyed your Christmas mood,” Marta sighed, a small smile creeping onto her face.
“Oh gosh, Marta. Don’t care about my Christmas mood.”
Oliver laughed because the whole situation was too fucked up to not to. He pulled her in for another hug, a tight one.
“I wish I could take that pain from you, but I know I can’t. So I want you to know that I’m here for you. If you ever need a shoulder to lean on, someone to hold you while you cry as long as you need, or someone to lighten your mood when you feel sad, I’m here. I’ll always be here. You shared your story with me and with that you let me into your life. And I refuse to leave it again. Sorry, not sorry.”
Oliver’s words were exactly what Marta needed to hear. They made her laugh. They were wholesome, assuring, but they also made her feel welcomed, comforted, and loved. Yes loved. Maybe on a different level than Frank loved her, but she was happy that she met Oliver and that he was very persistent in being a part of her life. She needed people like him around her.
“Thank you. I really appreciate that.”
She gave him a smile, an honest one. One that even reached her eyes.