Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to One Life to Live or any characters on the show specifically Al Holden, Marcie Walsh and Michael McBain. If I did, Al Holden would still be alive and Michael McBain would still be just another unseen doctor at the hospital.
This was written back in 2004 after Marcal fans got our "happy" ending that the show promised. I wasn't happy so I wrote my own version of what I wanted to happen.
THE VOICE WITHIN (1/4)
FEBRUARY 14TH, 2004 – 11:00 PM
Marcie sat the bar at Ultra Violet by herself. She was all dressed up with somewhere to go but no friends in sight. Jen was busy moping and crying on Rex's shoulder. She knew the members of Midnight Logic but they were the entertainment and very busy doing their intended job. Sliding her empty glass forward, she banged it gently on the counter. "Bartender, another one please."
The young man sauntered over towards her direction and smirked. "Going a little heavy on the ginger ale aren't you, doll?"
Marcie bit her lip to stop the flow of words that threatened to escape her mouth. Today was harder than she thought it would be. A fierce feeling of loneliness had washed over her that morning. She couldn't get Al off of her mind. The typical pink, red and heart Valentine's Day decorations that adorned Ultra Violet didn't add to her mood. It just made her remember the past, what could have been and what would never be. "Just get me another ginger ale, no-"
"…ice. I got it." The bartender finished her sentence and then went off to get her drink.
A young woman plopped down on the stool next to her. Her long, wavy blonde locks flowed down to her slender waist. Her light, slightly freckled skin seemed delicate like a porcelain doll. The bartender placed Marcie's glass down and nodded to the young woman. "What can I get you?"
"Ginger ale, no ice."
The bartender looked at the young woman and then back to Marcie, his eyes narrowing. "You two know each other?" Each of them shook their heads no. "Damn small world…." He mumbled as he fetched another ginger ale. "Never make money on damn ginger ale." He placed her drink down and left to attend to other customers.
The young woman turned and introduced herself. "Hi, my name is Dreamer."
When Marcie turned her head she was surprised. It felt as if she was looking into her own green eyes. "Um, Marcie." Spooked, she gazed back down at her glass.
"So, what are two nice looking gals like us doing alone on Valentine's Day?" Dreamer lifted her glass and took a sip. Placing it down on the bar, she turned back to Marcie. "No special someone, Marcie? No sweetie?"
Marcie gulped, remembering how many times Al had called her 'sweetie'. "No, no sweetie… not anymore." Resting her elbow against the bar, her palm cupped her cheek. "Not anymore."
"Sorry to hear that." Dreamer offered, a sad look etched her face. "He was special to you, huh?"
"Yeah, he was real special. I thought he was my soul mate but he died back in September from liver failure." Why am I telling this complete stranger intimate details of my life? Marcie wondered. For some odd reason, it felt comfortably right.
"I'm sorry to hear that." Even though Marcie wasn't looking at her, Dreamer kept her eyes intently on the short young red head in next to her. "You still miss him, don't you?"
"Every day." Marcie nodded. "For some reason, I've been thinking about him a lot today."
"Some people consider September to be a long way away." Dreamer picked up her drink and took a sip before continuing. "Are you feeling guilty about moving on with your life?"
Marcie turned to the girl. Half of her wanted to run away from the words that she had just spoken. The other half wanted to sit and continue to talk. Her legs were like jelly so she continued to sit on the bar stool. "I think so." Turning her head, Marcie stared at the counter. Grabbing a napkin, she slowly started to shred it between her fingers.
"I'm a good listener, as you can tell." Dreamer offered.
Closing her eyes, Marcie thought just might be a good idea to get her feelings out in the open. She expected one day to talk to Dr. Rae and not some stranger she met five minutes ago in a bar. "There's this guy Michael." Looking over Dreamer's shoulder, she spotted him sitting on a couch, watching Midnight Logic play. "Sometimes he's a jerk, other times he's nice and understanding. I don't understand it. He seems so… familiar to me. He knows me so well, it's scary."
"Maybe Michael is supposed to be your soul mate?"
Shocked, Marcie glared at Dreamer with tears in her eyes. "NO. Al was my soul mate. I know it… our souls have always been married." Wiping away a few escaped tears, Marcie wanted to run away but some force made her stay put.
"I'm sorry. Maybe Michael is the one you're supposed to be with since Al isn't here anymore?"
Looking around Dreamer she again set her eyes on Michael. At that moment, he turned and looked in her direction. Smiling, he waved and then turned his attention back to the band. She was surprised he didn't rush up off his place on the couch and come over to her. She almost felt… disappointed that he didn't. Why?
Dreamer swallowed the last of her ginger ale and then dug into her back pocket. Bringing out an old beat up wallet, she placed a few bills on the counter. Placing her hand on Marcie's, she gently spoke to her. "This one's on me. I'm sorry if I upset you." She stuffed her wallet back into her pocket and started to turn away but stopped halfway. "Marcie, sometimes you have to listen to not your heart or your head. We all have a voice within us that guides us. No one knows what it is. Listen to it and find strength. Trust that voice."
Marcie fought at the tears that had formed behind her closed eyelids. When she looked up Dreamer was gone. Looking farther into the room, she noticed that Michael had left too.
Al sat on the purple plush couch at Ultra Violet listening to Midnight Logic play a new song. He knew Marcie was there at the bar and she was looking distraught. Al couldn't figure out why he was here. It was eleven o'clock on Valentine's Day. He had failed his mission and didn't know what was going to happen next. At the stroke of midnight would Michael get his body back? Would his own soul then go to heaven? He was just waiting to see if he was going to turn into a pumpkin. Marcie never fell in love with Michael even though Al had done everything right since being pulled out of his body back on Christmas Eve. He had an urge to go up and try to speak with her, to make one more bold attempt at winning Marcie over. But some young girl seemed to be making small talk with her.
Sneaking a glance at bar, Al noticed that Marcie was looking around the girl and in his direction. His heart leaped in his chest. Then he froze. Raising his hand, he smiled and waved. Turning back to the band, he thought, Oh, you're an idiot. Al saw out of the corner of his eye that the girl was leaving. She then turned straight in his direction and stared right at him. She shook her head, motioning him towards the door.
Looking around, he pointed to himself. "Me?"
Agitated, she shifted her head again towards the door, the girl's eyes growing bigger by the minute. She quickly left the club. Taking one last look at Marcie, Al got up from the couch and headed towards the door himself. Who was she and what did she want with me?