The Way Back
Disclaimer: JAG and its characters belong to Bellisarius Productions; I'm just borrowing them for my, and hopefully other people's entertainment.
AN: My answer to the HBX Challenge March 2008; I took some liberty with the lines though by taking them a wee bit apart here or there.
This story is set at the end of Hail & Farewell II. It is probably neither very surprising nor very inventive, but it wanted out and I hope you will get some enjoyment out of reading it anyway.
o o o o o o
The Way Back
The late afternoon chill riding on the salty ocean breeze crept under her sweater, up her pant legs. Goosebumps rose across the surface of her skin, and Mac shuddered and wrapped her arms around her knees.
She couldn't watch Harm retreating from her so she kept staring across the expanse of the ocean as the pink glow of the setting sun was slowly being swallowed by the dark blue water at the horizon. Its simple, peaceful beauty was lost to her though; she saw nothing but the images of her perturbed mind.
He told her to let him know when she was ready. She dug her fingernails into her legs, wondering whether she would ever feel warm again. Would it ever stop hurting? She didn't want to talk, didn't know what to say. Every word was inadequate.
The air was colder now that he was no longer sitting next to her. The world was shades paler and the knot in her stomach bigger. Why was he leaving her behind again? Why was everybody always leaving her?
She fought it, yet a tear slipped down her cheek, then a second along the other, their trails cooling her skin. She dropped her forehead on her knees. She didn't like herself in self-pity mode.
Rationally, she knew exactly why he was leaving. He was acting in keeping with their entire relationship, was giving her what he thought she needed: space. In a way, he was right, and yet he wasn't. She couldn't blame him either, he couldn't know because what she wanted was something she hadn't ever allowed herself to admit to him and often not even to herself – she wanted to lean on him. Wanted his unassuming strength, his quiet support. Craved his tender care.
She feared that she might never be ready. Or not in time, anyway. The thought was like a freshly sharpened knife to her heart. His being back in the Navy, back at JAG, meant his promotion to Captain was on the horizon, and a reassignment was almost sure to come with it. They would be separated, and whatever they could have had together would be lost forever. She shuddered again and this time it had nothing to do with the cold ocean breeze.
The unexpected weight of a blanket being draped around her shoulders startled her. She hadn't even heard his approach; some Marine she was. The heavy warmth immediately cocooned her, wrapped around her chilled bones and gloomy thoughts. She looked up and around to find Harm towering behind her, his hands still resting on her shoulders. The heat of his touch arrowed through her veins, and she swallowed hard. Worry, surprise and relief fighting a battle within her heart.
His eyes held hers, but his hands slowly dropped from her shoulders. She missed his warmth immediately, but missing him was nothing new. She grabbed for the corners of the wool blanket, wrapping it tighter around herself.
She blinked, their connection broke, he sighed, and it hurt.
Just as before, he sat back down next to her in the sand, and directed his eyes toward the horizon.
They sat in silence for a long time, staring out at the sea, with all the words and pains and possibilities hanging over their heads like a cloud. No longer as dark, it seemed, but heavy still.
It was strange, she thought, how his simple presence could simultaneously calm her and make her feel nervous. He sat so close that she could feel his body heat, could almost sense his body touching hers, yet there was distance between them from top to bottom. His shoulder seemed to call out to her and she fought the urge to lay her cheek on it.
Instead she dug her hand into the sand and idly ran her fingers through the cool grains. She built a tiny mountain with her fingertips, then watched as it fell apart again when she ran her index finger over the top. She repeated the motion, making little piles only to destroy all the work she had done with a simple swipe of a finger.
His hand on top of hers stilled her fingers from their Sisyphean task. She stared at his hand covering hers, warm and dry and strong. He lifted her hand from the sand, tenderly wiped off the grains coating her skin, then entwined his fingers with hers. The nosedive her tummy took at the simple action was lightning fast and unexpected, and her head snapped up to look at him.
His eyes were the same color as the ocean, piercing and intense, and layered with emotion.
"This changes things, Harm," she finally said, while he held her captured with his eyes. Because it did, it changed everything. She had worked so hard the last couple of months, had fought every day against the demons that Clay's "death" had strengthened, only to have it all fall apart on her like a house of cards. Leaving her to reexamine not only its ending, but her entire relationship with him. And that was without taking into account all the changes brought by her health and fertility issues.
He softly squeezed her hand. "Yes it does," he nodded, understanding on his face.
She blinked at him, rapidly losing the fight against the flood of emotion warring within her. It occurred to her that she simply didn't understand how they could know each other better than anybody else ever had, and yet had misunderstood each other every time when it came to the most vital, most intense aspect of their relationship – their feelings for each other.
"What happened to us?" She whispered with a wobbly voice.
He looked at her for a few seconds before he finally spoke, sounding forlorn. "We let life get the better of us." He paused, took a breath. "But that doesn't mean that one day we can't mend fences."
This shocked her, pierced her insides. That they had drifted so far apart that they had to 'mend fences,' as he put it, to find their way back to each other. It felt like a divide too wide to cross, and she gulped down the sob that tried rising up her throat.
But then his face transformed, the corners of his mouth slowly bent from their serious expression into a soft smile, and his eyes crinkled along with it. Warm, tender, reassuring. He was still, and would always be, the most beautiful man she had ever met, and not just because of his looks. And she understood, could literally taste the relief on her tongue.
Something blossomed inside of her, burst open like tiny fireworks, warm and sparkling. Something she hadn't felt in months, years even, and not once during her entire relationship with Webb. She recognized it as hope.
Harm held her hand tightly, rubbed his thumb across the soft valley of skin where thumb connects to index finger. "Come on, Mac, let me take you home."
Home. She nodded her assent, and he stood up, softly pulling her up with him. Her legs were wobbly, her butt numb from having sat in the same position for so long, and she stumbled slightly. He caught her immediately, holding her steady with his hands on her waist.
And didn't let go again. Instead he pulled her closer, and she came willingly, sank against his warm protective form. Slipped her arms around his waist and held on. Her ear resting against his chest, where she could hear the wild beating of his heart even above the loud roaring of the ocean waves. Calming and exciting her, yet another contradiction only he could bring her.
She took what she could from him, let him hold her close for a long time. Soaked up his strength, his tenderness, his understanding. And hoped she was giving him something back in return. In the way he rested his cheek on her hair though, in the rapid thump of his heart, she found the knowledge that he needed her the same way she needed him. Finally, they had come full circle.
She pulled back slightly, looked up at him. "Thanks Harm. I really needed this."
Harm slid his hands up her sides, over her shoulders, then cradled her face. He stroked across her cheeks with his thumbs, studying her intensely, before he spoke again.
"I know."
The intensity of the moment threatened to overwhelm her, yet it was the most wonderful moment of her life.
She reached up and touched her lips to his. She feared it might be too early and yet she knew they both needed it, this reassurance, this connection. She kissed him softly, once, twice, then pulled back. His taste lingered on her lips and she thought she would never want to wash her face again. The thought made her grin.
He smiled back at her, with a quiet happiness she hadn't seen on him in a long time, and all the emotions she had ever hoped to see sparkling in his eyes.
He took her hand again, and together they walked across the beach, toward their car, and toward their beginning.
FIN