Author: Mel (e-mail me at m.a.jooty@dundee.ac.uk)
Disclaimer: The characters of JAG are the property of Donald Bellasario, CBS and Paramount and no profit has been made by my utilising them in my story. Everyone else belongs to me.
Rating: PG-13 for language and angst (you know that angst is a necessity for me).
Pairings: Harm/Mac friendship
Spoilers: This takes place during the episode 'Goodbyes' just a few days before Harm leaves.
Summery: Mac begins to understand why Harm reacted so obsessive and recklessly when he went after Charlie without back-up and why the case of Annie and Darlin Lewis affected him so deeply. In Mac's POV.
Archiving: As long as you ask first, it should be okay.
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Harm's Residence
Washington, DC
2315 EST, June 5th
"Are you crazy? Do you have a death wish or do you just now care?"
I was pissed. No, this went beyond simple anger...there was not a word to describe the way my blood boiled and the deep homicidal urge to slowly wring Harm's neck. There have been many times- more than I could count- when I was mad at Harm but until today I don't think he has ever been at the end of the full force of my anger. This went way beyond him quitting JAG for flying and sand bagging me in court; this was about suicidal stupidity.
We were standing in the middle of Harm's living room. I was too mad to sit down and he was more concerned with quieting me down than with comfort.
"I had to go after them, Mac," Harm replied in that 'everything-is-fine' voice of his. Just hearing his casual tone made me want to deck him right here and now. "I didn't know what he would do to Darlin. Anyway, this is just like one of the many recon missions I've been on. You're a *Marine*, you should understand."
The way he was talking, anyone would almost think he'd just taken a walk in the park instead of pursuing an armed and dangerous murderer on his own. It wasn't the fact that he had just gone after Charlie Lynch, it was the fact that he didn't even think to call for back-up once. Hell, it was one of the first things you learned at the academy- 'always call for back-up'. Any re-con mission, no matter how safe it seemed, stated an officer should always have at least one other person with them. Harm could have so easily been killed at the hands of this psycho who had callously murdered a small child.
"I think the real reason you're mad is because I'm going back to flying."
He sounded so smug that it took all of my self-retraint not to rip out his heart right then and there.
"I can't believe you," I said incredulously. "He could have killed you and you think I'm more interested in you changing designation. I don't seem to give a damn about that!"
That wasn't true, of course. It froze me to the core when he announced he was leaving me for his stupid obsession over flying. The only reason I did keep quiet was because it would be hypocritical for me to stop him. Besides, I may be his best friend but I was not his lord and overseer. Harm had the right to make his own choices and I just had to stand by and live with them.
Still, it was bad enough to lose Harm to a bunch of jets on a ship but to lose him to death...to a place where I could never visit him again would have been unbearable. I found it difficult to cope when Dalton and Chris died so soon after each other. Then just a few months ago my father succumbed to cancer and although I hadn't seen him for years, it still hurt. But for Harm to die...He was my best friend.
Of course, Harm was acting like he didn't care if he had lived or died tonight. I know a little girl's life was at stake but to see him behave to cavalier really ignited my murderous rage. This was one of those days when I wondered if Harm really did have a death wish, he sure as hell acted like he did.
"Maybe it's just as well you're dating Jordan," I muttered.
His blue eyes narrowed. "What the hell is that meant to mean?"
"Well, it looks to me like you were having suicidal thoughts tonight. No-one in their right mind goes into a situation like that by themselves. Not only could Lynch have killed you but he might have turned on the kid." For the first time since his little run-in with Lynch, Harm looked shocked at what he had done. "Harm, why did you do it? How could you have been so reckless to have gone after a killer by yourself?"
"I had to do it." He was talking so hushed that I was straining to hear him. What I did hear without difficulty was the pain and anguish in his tone. I'd heard it before when he was looking for his father and later when he discovered his father was dead, but never had he sounded so tortured. "I did it for Jessica..." His voice was now barely audible.
Jessica? Who was Jessica? I was so full of questions. Sometimes it amazed me that while I had my own secrets, Harm also had his. Maybe if I was not so mysterious, so secretive then he would feel he could share. I wished more than once that I had told Harm the truth about John Farrow and Chris.
Harm moved to the window, staring out at nothing. I inched closer to him, inwardly begging for him to open up.
"Harm, who's Jessica?" I asked in a whisper. I dreaded what can of worms I was opening but I needed to know what (or who) would affect Harm that he would chase a psycho alone.
He bowed his head. "She was my sister..."
"What?!"
Had I heard correctly? Harm was an only child; that was one thing I knew for certain about him. He was the only child from the marriage between his mother and late father. His mother could have had other children with her second husband but surely Harm would have mentioned a 'little' thing like having younger siblings. We had been partners for close to three years. However, the fact he had spoken in past tense had not escaped me.
Before I could quiz him further, he sighed and turned to face me. I was shocked to see his eyes glistening with unshed tears. I wanted to put my hand on his cheek, to comfort him, but I knew that wasn't what he wanted. He was about to tell me something- about Jessica- and he needed some distance. I stood my ground as he trudged over to his bureau and slumped into his leather chair.
"Jessica was always so patient with me, I was her little brother and a really annoying kid. There was five years between us and I always wanted to do what she was doing like a big kid. She could so easily have pushed me about- her friends did to their kid brothers- but instead Jessica let me tag along." He was staring at the wall like he held some fascination for him, as he told his story. "She used to teach me how to play baseball and how to swim...You know, the family all thought *she* would be the one who would follow Dad into the Navy. Jessi was just a little girl but she was like a little officer."
Harm remained silent. I could see he was trying to protect himself from further discussing something he knew was going to hurt but it had to come out sometime. It would only hurt more if he kept it to himself. I wasn't talking as an amateur psychologist but as someone who was all too aware of how secrets always came back eventually.
"What happened, Harm?" I nudged, hoping I didn't sound too pushy. "What happened to Jessica?"
"She's dead." I empathised at the young, high-pitched tone he spoke in like he was still a little boy trapped in his memories. But like always, Harm quickly composed himself. "When Jessica was eight years old she had gone swimming with some kids in the nearby lake. Her friend said Jessi had left early because she had homework to finish but...but she never made it home." Harm fidgeted slightly, his brow furrowed deeply. "The police found her body a week later in some undergrowths. Her killer was some scumbag drifter who liked little girls. He had panicked when Jessi screamed and strangled her."
Tears rolled down his cheek and he quickly brushed them away. Unlike when his father's death was confirmed, Harm was acting as if Jessica's murder was a confession which was ridiculous since he must have only been around three when it happened. No, there was another reason why the all-too-familiar weight of guilt was bearing down on him.
Harm was now racking around in his bureau drawer until he finally emerged with a crumpled photo of two young dark-haired children; a little girl aged around seven or eight and a toddler boy.
"Why do you keep it hidden, Harm?" I asked.
That struck me as odd since both his home and his office had photographs honouring his father. Why not do the same for a dead big sister he obviously adored?
He just sat, mesmorised by the photograph he cradled in his hands. "What Mom and Dad didn't know was that Jessi wasn't coming home to do homework, I had made her agree to come home early so she could build my train-set. I made her come home, if she hadn't left early she wouldn't have died, Mac. Don't you see- this was my fault."
I couldn't stop myself. I moved forward and enfolded him in my arms like he was that guilt-stricken three-year-old boy instead of my stoic partner. I felt his body shudder as he cried, and I wondered if this was the first time he had voiced his fears since that day thirty-two years ago.
"Harm," I said softly, "your sister's death was *not* your fault. You were just a little boy, you had no say in what happened. It was that sick freak who killed her, not you. It was no-one's fault except that man's."
"Mom doesn't like talking about her, y'know," Harm said tearfully. "She locked up all Jessi's things and put away all her photos. It was like she didn't exist to Mom and Dad."
It must have been awful growing up in a home haunted by a missing father and a murdered sister. Sometimes, I had to restrain myself from slapping Harm for being so stubborn and obsessive but now that I knew about Jessica, I could almost understand why he had grown into the man he has...
And why he made sure Annie Lewis didn't become a forgotten child that Jessica Rabb had become.
I was just about to probe Harm further when he abruptly pulled away and stood up. He shoved the photo into the drawer then stalked towards his bathroom.
"I'm tired now," he stated. "I have to sleep."
I watched him retreat to the bathroom, knowing he was withdrawing from his memories and me. He wasn't going to come out until I was gone- he was done talking for today and I was willing to cut him a break...for now. Instead, against my better judgment, I reached into Harm's drawer, ignoring feelings of trespassing and intrusion and I retrieved the photograph of Harm and his sister.
"Don't worry, Harm," I murmured. "I won't let Jessica be forgotten either." I tucked the photo in my jacket as I left his apartment giving Harm the privacy he needed
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JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia
1230 EST, June 7th
Harm was leaving tomorrow. I still couldn't believe that his last day at JAG had finally arrived, I had always assumed Harm was predictable and he was remain at JAG for as long as he remained in the service. I never thought he would abandon it all for flying, even though I knew how deep his love for the skies ran.
Before I was mad that he was going, angry beyond belief. Yet now that he had told me the truth about his sister, I had to consider if his need to fly was more something he had to fulfill for her sake rather than his own. Harm had said she was the one they all thought would join the Navy; perhaps, his goal to become a pilot for the Navy was something her death had elicited, that somehow if he lived her dream then she would not be completely forgotten in a home where his parents blocked her memory out. Then his father's disappearance a few years later was just the nail in the coffin.
I knew Harm and I knew how his mind worked. He was too considerate, too protective of his mother to force her to acknowledge Jessica so this was his way of making her face the memories.
If all that was true then it was far too late for me to correct the damage. Thirty-two long years had past and only therapy could help Harm come to terms with Jessica, and I knew he would never agree to that. Instead, I could only help him see that just because his mother had refused to remember Jessica then it didn't mean he had too.
I wandered over to Harm's office aware that he was spending lunch in the office wrapping things up. We had not seen each other for two days- Harm avoiding me because of what he had revealed and me avoiding him because I had to gather my strength to face his transfer.
Knocking on his door, I immediately walked in when he called 'Come in.' Harm was mildly surprised when he saw who it was but otherwise his emotions were hidden behind a mask of nonchalance. His eyes were drawn to the present I held in my hands. He indicated me to the seat opposite his desk, waiting for me to make the first move.
Noticing the boxes by the side of his desk, I decided to spark a conversation. "All packed then?"
"Nearly." He seemed relieved I had not brought up Jessica. It was almost that I shame that I was going to break the relief in a moment. "I've just got a few more things to pack up and finish up a couple of reports then I'll be done."
"Harm, we should talk..."
"About what?" he scowled. He was pretending to flick through some files but his eyes were glazed and held no focus.
If he wanted me to spell everything out then so be it. I knew how to play Harm's little distraction games, he thought if he ignored me or made me mad I would leave him in peace. Sadly, it had worked in the past but I was determined this time was going to be different. Harm was leaving tomorrow and there was no more time for dwaddling around.
"About what we talked about the other night. About your sister."
He stiffened. "What about her?"
"Why don't you ever talk about her, Harm?"
"She's dead; talking about her won't bring her back, Mac. Why bring up old ghosts?" He smiled coldly at her. "I thought you'd be proud of me, Mac. You always wanted me to think the same way about my father."
It was true. It was stupid and presumptuous for me to dictate how Harm grieved over his father. God only knows, I'm not one to talk when it comes to my own grieving. When Dalton died, I shut Harm and my friends out, and turned to John Farrow when I killed Chris.
"Yes," I conceded, "and I'm sorry, Harm. But we're not talking about your father, we talking about your sister." I watched him, pleading for him to open up. "Harm, please talk to me." He had to get this out, it had obviously been haunting him for years. Just looking at him on the Lewis case showed he had never overcome Jessica's death. Better to let it out now than for it to fester.
Harm just angrily glanced back to his files. Standing up, I sighed and was about to leave before I did something I regretted when I heard his whisper.
"I don't remember her anymore..." He looked up, his eyes swimming with tears he was blinking back. "I don't remember my sister."
"Harm, you were just a little boy and it happened a long time ago, it's only natural your memories will have faded since then."
"But she was my sister, Mac!" He jumped up and began pacing the confines of his office. Harm hardly ever paced and I could see the restless energy he needed to burn. "Jessica loved me, she protected me from bullies and bought me candy, and how do I honour her? By forgetting she ever existed."
"Did you forget deliberately?" I asked gently.
I knew the truth. From the way he spoke, Harm's parents coped with their daughter's death the only way they knew how- by pretending nothing had happened. I felt so sorry for Harm growing up in that environment as a child, afraid to bring Jessica up in case he upset his parents.
"No..." Harm sighed heavily. "I wanted so much to remember but it was so hard. I tried talking about it with Mom but she's wasn't interested and it made her cry so I stopped. Mom stored all her photographs and eventually I forgot what Jessi even looked like...until I left for the academy and took one from the attic. The reason I had to get Lynch so badly was so Darlin didn't feel she had to forget Annie to escape the memories. Today, I think me, Mom and a handful of people remember Jessica. With a high-profile case like Lynch's making the news, I made sure Annie was never forgotten- that people remembered that a little girl was murdered. There's too many forgotten children out there, Mac, and I won't add another name to that endless list."
It was time. I moved forward until there was just an arm's length separating us and I handed him the present I was holding. It was wrapped in brightly coloured wrapping paper. He smiled in bemusement, carefully opening the parcel. Any other time I would have laughed, anyone would have thought just by watching him he was deactivating a bomb instead of opening a present.
Suddenly, Harm stilled when he revealed the gift. "Mac..." He looked up at me expectantly, unsure of what to say.
I smiled and took the enhanced photograph of Jessica and little Harm that I had arranged to be framed, from Harm's hands and placed it on the desk next to his father's photo.
"I think that Jessica should be back with her family now, back with her brother." I saw Harm studying the two photographs sitting side-by-side, and I clasped his hand. "Harm, it wasn't your fault Jessica died. It was a sick asshole who killed her just like it was a sick asshole who killed Annie. And just because your mom chooses to forget Jessica existed, doesn't mean that you have to. Darlin Lewis will keep Annie's memory alive in the years to come, and you will keep Jessica's memory alive."
Harm squeezed my hand and his face lit up in the first smile to grace his face in weeks. I felt a rush of pride wash through me that Harm had been able to confide in me about Jessica and I had been able to help him. And it was then I realised that Harm was not really saying goodbye when he left to go back to flying, he was just saying 'until next time'.
Well, what did you think? I could get into the habit of doing short POV stories as long as I got to also work on my hefty doses of Harm angst and/or torture.