A/N: So, here's the sequel. It will be a little different than Delicate. It's from Harm's POV and the way I see it now it will be part sequel, perhaps some sections of prequel (covering Harm's thoughts on the events just prior to and during Delicate). We will see...This story will be more "domestic," and of course our dynamic duo will have some bumps in the road, but not bumps as big as Sadik...
A/N 2: I realized after I wrote this chapter that it mentions, well, vomit and urine more than the average JAG story…no, it it's not something kinky, it makes sense for what's going on. I do apologize, though, if any of you readers are squeamish (no, I don't think anything is gross…but then again, I'm not exactly squeamish).
Conquering Never
Chapter 1: Hello Little Girl
September 21st, 2004
0855 Local
Bethesda Naval Hospital
Bethesda, MD
My hands are too big. That's the problem, really. They are just too big. I am somewhat surprised I'm only now realizing this, when they have been attached to me for forty years. Well, forty-one years, really, but my birthday isn't actually for another month. Of course, my hands never seemed too big in a Tomcat or a Hornet. Not too big while I was remodeling my loft…but then again, I've never held anything this small, this delicate. Nothing ever so dear. I feel clumsy and I'm sure these big meat hooks of mine will drop or crush the precious bundle I hold.
I look over at my sleeping wife, and I'm drowned in such a wash of love that I almost, almost cry. Okay, there are actually a few tears running down my cheeks. But it doesn't count if no one sees you, right? Oh, damn…
"Harm…are you—is everything—are you okay?" Retired Admiral AJ Chegwidden steps into the room, his expression concerned, even worried.
I give him a sheepish half-smile. "Everything's fine, AJ…I'm just…r-really…oh god, did my voice just break?…uh, happy." My former CO just smiles and gives my shoulder a squeeze, a look of understanding on his face.
"I know what you mean." He looks over to the still-sleeping Sarah. "Oh, she's resting. I'll come back—" He starts to head for the door.
I stand up, clutching the now slightly squirming package in my hands closer to my chest. She's so tiny, I think, and I feel my eyes start to well up again. "No, AJ, don't go. Mac will be upset if she misses you," I whisper. "And she…" I look down at my daughter whose mouth is starting to move in that adorable lip-smacking way that means she's hungry, "will want to eat soon, so Mac will have to wake up."
AJ relaxes and steps closer to us, peeling back the blanket a bit to get a better look at my little girl. "Can I—" He holds out his hands and gets this loving, hopeful look on his face, another man smitten by this most enchanting creature. I nod, smiling as I hand over the new Miss Lydia Rose Rabb to the man who will essentially be one of her grandfathers. His hands look just as big as mine as they cradle the tiny baby, but, unlike mine, they don't seem as unsure. I'm a little jealous, but also so very happy Lydia will have such wonderful influences in her life. She's a very lucky little girl…and I am a very, very lucky man.
That Sarah and I have made it to this point is nothing short of miraculous. Well, maybe not miraculous…but we are both stubborn, pig-headed people and we are also our own worst enemies. But here we are…married. With a brand-new daughter. A girl with her looks…we're not sure about the brains yet. I'm putting my money on Sarah there too, though. Lydia was born a little early…almost four weeks early, and everyone knows my marine wife is always early. Me, not so much.
We found out Sarah was pregnant the morning after she killed that bastard Sadik. My fists still clench in fury whenever I think of him or hear his name; I have tried, am still trying, to let go of the anger at what he did to Sarah, and what he could have done to Lydia. Most of the time I am successful in my efforts to keep it from my beautiful wife, choosing to release the rage away from her in some constructive manner. She has her bouts of anger too, but when she hears me rail and cry about everything Sadik has done, she shrinks into herself, feeling guilty that she brought this upon us. Someday I hope I will be able to convince her that I don't blame her, have never blamed her, for any of it.
But then that isn't entirely true, is it…that I never blamed her for anything; we spent five months apart after Paraguay, not speaking, the worst five months of my life. I was angry and hurt, refusing to pick up or return her calls each of the seventeen times she phoned. Sometimes I would even simply decline the call, knowing she would know what had happened when it went directly to voicemail. I wanted her to hurt as badly as I did, while she just wanted to apologize for her "never." That damnable word thrown out after the worst weeks of her life almost broke us both. Me, because I gave up everything to save her, to finally tell her I loved her, her because I gave up everything and didn't tell her those three little words. I played the jealous ass and then disappeared from everyone's life to lick my wounds, leaving a trail of pain and hurt behind me.
I finally answered her the eighteenth time she called. Ever since her seventeenth message, I had had a nagging sense that all was not right with Sarah. Her voice on the machine sounded so forlorn, and without even thinking much about it, I answered her next call. I was hanging out at a dive bar/dance club called Rooster's, a place I had discovered some weeks before that made strong drinks, honored John Wayne, and had the funniest chicken statue. Okay, I was probably drunk the first time I noticed it, making everything seem that much more hilarious, but the damn thing still makes me laugh every time Sarah and I go there. Anyway, that night when she called me, I just told her to meet me there. No, 'How are you?' or 'How's JAG?'-just a cryptic "Rooster's. In the back." But she came to me, and the rest, as they say, is history.
I still thank God every night that, despite my behavior after our 'reunion' there, we managed to come together, make a child, and get married. I am happier now than I've ever been, but it wasn't easy…
March 22nd, 2004
1222 Local
Burnett Residence
La Jolla, CA
"Harm, I think you'd better check on Mac." My mother catches me just as I walk in the door. I had spent the morning golfing with Frank…that is to say, I walked around with Frank while he golfed, my arm being far from ready to swing a club. Sarah and I had been with my parents for the last week so we could both recover from our recent experiences and injuries. I hadn't wanted to leave Sarah today; her morning sickness had been particularly awful the last few days, but she insisted. In fact, she told me if I didn't stop hovering, she would poke out my eyeballs and serve them to me on a skewer. I laughed, but her glare made me just a little afraid she was serious. Chocking it up to hormones and not wanting to poke the beast any further, I left with Frank.
After nine holes (I couldn't handle being apart from an ailing Mac for that long, no matter her threats) and a quick lunch at the clubhouse, we returned to my obviously very worried mother.
"What's going on?" Frank asked, coming up behind me.
"It's Mac…she's been throwing up since you left."
"Why didn't you call me?" I asked, already running up the steps to our room. I don't need the answer; Sarah would have insisted I not be disturbed. Damn her marine hide!
I can already hear retching by the time I reach the top of the stairs. It seems that once she accepted she was pregnant, Sarah's body went into pregnancy overdrive. I'm in the bathroom and by her side in an instant, rubbing her back and wiping her face with a wet cloth as she leans back from the toilet.
"Hey," she says, her voice raw. She's very pale and there is a sheen of sweat on her forehead.
I brush her hair back from her face, noting she feels rather clammy. "Hey, yourself…sweetheart, I think it's time we took you to a doctor."
And just as I expected, she shakes her head. "No. It'll pass. It always—" With that, she is back over the toilet, retching violently, although there's nothing left in her but bile. I'm frustrated that I can't do more for her than rub her back and bring her watered-down Gatorade and ginger ale.
"Oh, fuck, Harm, I feel terrible," she moans when the storm finally passes. Her use of profanity and the fact that she actually admitted to feeling so bad has me even more worried, but I just nod my head.
"I know, baby. Let's get you back in bed and I'll get you some ginger ale and water." She shakes her head as I help her up.
"No. I'll just throw it back up," she says, leaning heavily on me. I'm actually supporting most of her weight, and truthfully, I'm getting more scared by the minute.
"Maaac…" I cover my fear with exasperation. "You have to stay hydrated!" I do not expect her to burst into tears, which she does as we start to move toward our bed. This definitely has me worried…yes, I have seen her cry more in the last six months than in the entire eight years I've known her, but this is more a cry of utter defeat, of surrender. My marine is not one to give in; I know she feels even worse than she's letting on.
I pull her into my side, half-carrying her the rest of the way to the bed. I want to scoop her up in my arms, but being only a little over a week out from having a bullet taken out of one of them, that is a bad idea. She sags against me, her arms weakly wrapping around my waist, bits of my shirt clenched loosely in her fists. I'm wondering if I should call an ambulance as she sobs against me, but I have to admit I'm grateful to feel the dampness of her tears coming through my shirt. At least she's hydrated enough for that.
I set Sarah down and crouch down beside her. My knees protest but I need to get a good look at her, a good look into her eyes. What I see makes my heart clench. Her beautiful olive skin is more sallow than anything, her normally bright chocolate-amber eyes are dull and sunken in, and the hollows of her cheeks have deepened overnight. She was already too thin from the ordeals of the last year; she doesn't have any reserves now. My decision is made.
"Sarah, honey," I say quietly, brushing her hair back, "we need to take you to the hospital." My tone is firm and she only nods, closing her eyes.
I use my cell to call my mother, who is no doubt still hovering by the stairs, so I can tell her to bring the car around and send Frank up to help me get Sarah down the stairs. Damn arm. While I wait, I gather a few of Sarah's toiletries, some underwear, and a few items she calls "loungewear." That 'loungewear' is basically a couple of my t-shirts and what amounts to pajama pants.
I poke my head out into the hall to see what is taking so long and I'm surprised as hell to see the admiral striding down the hall. I slip out of the room and softly shut the door. "Sir, this is a surprise…"
"It's AJ here, Harm."
"But what are you—"
"Visiting a friend."
"Um, I'm flattered…but-"
"Not you, Harm," is his curt response. Is he here just to see Sarah? She did tell me that he almost kissed her once, and Bugme was certainly onto something when he accused us all of being in love with her…
"It's not Mac, either, Harm." He actually looks a bit uncomfortable, and I get the distinct impression he's still here for a woman even if it's not Sarah. I'm a little surprised that he's out here when JAG is short two senior attorneys, but then again, he is in charge…of course that still doesn't explain why he is here.
The admiral sighs. "I was talking to Mac yesterday and she asked me about when Marcella was pregnant with Francesca—about morning sickness…I told her it was pretty mild, and I didn't like Mac's response."
"Oh?"
"She threw up."
Oh lord, Sarah must have been mortified. "She did?" Where was I during this? Oh, right. It was probably when I went to the store with Mom to get stuff for dinner. But Sarah told me she hadn't—Dammit, Sarah! You need to learn to trust me with these things!
"Are you done?" The admiral is staring at me pointedly; he must have been trying to talk to me while I was, uh…ruminating. I nod at him.
"As I was saying, she threw up, and then she let it slip that she'd hardly kept anything down for the last couple of days."
"She told you that?" Why hadn't she said anything to me? I have to admit that I'm more than a little hurt by this.
The admiral nods. "Well, to be fair, I ordered her to tell me what was going on…threatened to transfer you to Alaska if she didn't."
"Oh, thanks," I mumble, but at his glare I stand up straighter and add a crisp, 'sir.'
He rolls his eyes a bit. "Harm, I know you're upset that she obviously kept this from you and your parents, but it's hard to break a habit…both of you can't help trying to protect each other."
He has a point…and I think Sarah is a little extra sensitive about things right now. Yes, she's pregnant, but I think it has more to do with the whole Sadik situation and her role in it. She doesn't want to give me any reason to worry…but, newsflash, Sarah—I'm always going to worry, especially now that you're carrying my child.
It's my turn to sigh. "True enough, AJ," I say, and to my own ears I sound rather pathetic. But I can't dwell on any of that right now; we need to get Sarah to a doctor. "Give me a hand, AJ?" I ask, motioning to my injured arm. He nods, and together we head back into the bedroom.
Sarah lies on the bed, eyes closed. It's funny, I've always thought of her as 'Mac,' but since we found out about the baby, she's been Sarah. I still call her Mac from time to time, and when we're back at JAG I'll still use Mac. But when it's just us…she's Sarah.
Sarah must have dozed off while I was talking to the admiral. I hate to disturb her, but the sooner we get her to the hospital, the sooner she can feel better. I give her shoulder a little rub and her eyes flutter open. She blinks at me a moment, then grimaces. "Motherfucker, Harm. What in God's name did I do to deserve this shit?"
I cringe a little, knowing the admiral is right behind me, but then again, the man was a SEAL. I'm sure he's heard worse, although I will maintain till my dying day that marines are far more vulgar than sailors. I throw a glance over my shoulder, which Sarah follows. Her eyes widen, but without missing a beat, she meets his and says, "Oh, sorry. Motherfucker, sir."
I chuckle a bit, but I know she'll be mortified when she's more herself and realizes she swore in front of her CO. Sarah really isn't one for profanity. She's a true lady…but I'll never tell her that to her face. I really don't want my eyeballs on a skewer.
I feel the admiral's hand on my shoulder. He motions to Sarah, saying, "Let me, Harm." I step aside and, as if Sarah weighs nothing, he scoops her up and carries her out the door.
Sarah can only rest her head on AJ's shoulder, telling him sleepily that she's sorry for her unbecoming behavior. Her voice sounds so raw and weak and I feel my eyes burn with tears. She's not the only one who is a little extra sensitive after our recent experiences.
AJ whispers something in her ear that I don't catch, but she gives him a small smile and relaxes in his arms. I realize that I'm not the least bit jealous…it's obvious that AJ Chegwidden feels a fatherly type of concern toward Sarah. I find myself glad that their relationship seems to be repaired; I know they talked a lot while she was out here getting therapy and I was on the Henry. In a way I'm hurt that she could talk to him and not to me, but I do understand…I was way too close to the situation and I know I wouldn't have been able to stop myself from trying to rescue her. As painful as it is to admit it, I wasn't what she needed then.
As we head down the stairs, I hear Sarah mumble something to the admiral that sounds like, "How's Maria?"
Despite the current situation, I still expect him to balk at any personal questions. Instead, I hear him tell her in a gentle tone, "You would know better than I would at the moment."
"Yeah, but that's different. She's my shrink."
What? The admiral and Dr. Carmen?
Well, isn't that interesting…
1634 Local
Naval Medical Center San Diego
San Diego, CA
Sarah is finally settled in a room on the obstetrical floor. She's definitely dehydrated, has lost more weight, and currently has IV fluids and anti-nausea medication flowing through her veins. After a couple of liters of fluids in the ER, in addition to what she's getting now, her color is a little better and she doesn't sound so weak. As far as the baby is concerned, it's too early to really do any monitoring. She's on this floor mainly because they know how to handle something called hyperemesis gravidarum. Basically, it's severe morning sickness that has gotten way out of hand. They tell us it may get better in the second trimester, but in some women, it can last the whole pregnancy. I pray to God that won't be the case for my Sarah.
I look down at her sleeping form. She's been dozing off and on since the ER; I think some of the medications they gave her have made her drowsy. Of course, she certainly has many reasons to be worn out. When we arrived here, she had another bout of vomiting to the point that I think it actually hurt. She's still bruised up from her confrontation with Sadik, so that probably didn't help, either. It also didn't help that they inferred that I had made those marks on her. That upset Sarah, but the admiral stepped in and set them straight. He left shortly after that to meet the not-so-mysterious Maria.
After a few minutes of just watching Sarah, I decide to use the restroom. When I come out, she's awake and gives me a wan smile.
I sit back down by her bed and take her hand. "Hi, sweetheart."
"Hey," she whispers. She's obviously still exhausted.
"How are you feeling?" My thumb makes little circles on the back of her hand as she thinks about my question for a few beats.
"Better."
She must have seen my look of skepticism. "No, really, Harm. It's nice not to feel like I'm going to throw up my lung for once."
"Sarah?"
"Yeah, Harm?" she asks warily.
"Why didn't you tell me it was this bad?" Sarah looks at me and shrugs, then turns away, trying to take her hand with her. I don't let her.
"Sarah, sweetheart, I'm not upset…I'm just…just…" I actually don't know what I am. I'm hurt, frustrated, but not upset. I am terribly worried though. It has been so hard to watch her go through this, knowing that I'm the one who's done it to her, and I can't even do anything to help. "I was just so…um, scared, t-today…" My voice trails off, and I'm just a little mortified that a few tears have formed in my eyes and are now spilling down my cheeks. I swipe at them, hoping she doesn't notice. I realize immediately that the hope is ridiculous. I'm sitting right by her and she's looking right at me.
"I-I'm s-sorry, H-harm." She turns her face away and her frail body shakes with sobs. I feel like a heel, even though I don't think I've said or done anything stupid today. Well, you did leave her this morning…
I gather her up in my arms and she shudders against me. This poor woman has gone through so much lately, we both have, and I think we could use a break. I don't think either of us has our normal resilience and now this… "Shhh, baby. It's okay. It's okay," I croon, kissing the top of her head and rocking her a little. My injured arm protests a bit, but it's merely a twinge compared to the pain I feel rolling off Sarah.
Finally, she calms, and I feel her hold on me loosening. I pull her close again, not letting her escape. There are a few gasping breaths and another whispered apology. I kiss her hair and tell her she has nothing to be sorry for. She shakes her head.
"Oh, Harm…first I don't have any idea that I'm pregnant, then I can't even do it right."
"Honey, none of this is your fault. Like the doc said, this happens—"
"Not to Harriet."
"Harriet is a different person. And let's face it, you've already had a rough few weeks…months, really. I'm sure that doesn't help. We'll get through this and repeat after me: "It's. Not. My. Fault." She does repeat it back, but I don't think she really believes it.
1818 Local
Naval Medical Center San Diego
San Diego, CA
Sarah has fallen asleep again. A nurse was in a few minutes ago to give her more anti-nausea medication as her symptoms were worsening again, and they want to keep ahead of it. I can tell she is absolutely worn out. I hope she'll sleep for the rest of the day and then through the night, but I suppose that is asking a bit much, knowing what a typical night in a hospital is like.
I step out into the hall to call Mom and Frank and update them. They send us their love and promise to stop by in the morning. I should probably try to find something to eat, but if Sarah wakes up, I don't want her to be alone. I settle for a package of trail mix from the vending machine down the hall. I open it and start munching; it tastes stale but it's better than nothing.
Returning to Sarah's room, I am relieved to find her still asleep. She looks tiny in her blue hospital gown. A hand rests on her stomach where our baby grows, and the delicate bones of her wrist look bird-like in the waning sunlight. Her knuckles still show the evidence of her fight with Sadik. I know that under her gown there is a large, yellowing bruise on her left shoulder where he hit her. There is still a faint bruise on her right cheekbone; he backhanded her there, starting their battle. She has many other bruises and cuts over her body and I have kissed each and every one of them, trying to soothe away the horror of it all. I know I can't though, not really. I am filled with the need to protect this woman and I want to chase away her demons, her nightmares, but I'm afraid I won't be enough. The last year has taken such a heavy toll on her, and though I have the utmost faith in her to overcome, I worry there will always be a part of her that will stay trapped in the dark place that was Paraguay.
And then there are my own demons…god knows I've had them since I was six…but those involving my father have largely been laid to rest. Mac helped me through those, kept me alive, just as she saved me the night I went after Diane's killer. My nightmares from Paraguay and the time spent with the CIA are not as frequent or severe as they once were, but that whole time still haunts me. I try to keep it from Sarah, but I probably shouldn't; I know it hurts her when I fail to confide in her. It's a habit I'm trying to break, I really am. It's just so hard to do when I see the pain of what she's gone through reflected in her eyes.
Sarah stirs in her sleep, letting out a little whimper. I watch her for a few moments, hoping she'll settle, but it becomes obvious she's having another nightmare. I lean over her and run my hand comfortingly over her shoulder and arm, then stroke her hair. She's getting more agitated, however, and, though I know her nurses won't approve, I slide into the bed behind her. My injured arm makes it a bit awkward, but I soon manage to spoon her as I wrap my other arm around her. I cover her legs with my own; pulling her close to me like this always helped when we were together, before we were actually together. Back then, it was the only time she would really let me hold her. Of course, I never wanted her to have nightmares, but I did relish those times when her body would finally relax against mine. I would think that this was how we always should have been. I would inhale the heady scent of her hair as I pressed my lips to the silken strands. I would let my fingers trail over her skin, trying to soothe away her fear. And then I would slip out of her bed, pull on my clothes, and just walk away.
I have had many regrets in my life, and my treatment of Sarah after Paraguay is one of the biggest.
As I lie there with her, I am struck by how fragile Sarah feels in my arms. 'Fragile' is not a word I ever thought I would use to describe my marine. She's always been a tough as nails, take no prisoners kind of woman, someone who I would want at my side during a firefight. This last year…well, as I've said so many times before, it has stolen so much from us. I vow as she snuggles closer that I will do everything in my power to make Sarah happy and whole again.
I slide my hand down low on her belly to where our child rests, thanking God they are both safe. As I drift off to sleep, I also pray to God that I can keep them that way.
2024 Local
Naval Medical Center San Diego
San Diego, CA
I wake to the sound of someone moving about in the bathroom and then realize I'm alone in the bed. I struggle to my feet as I hear the toilet flush, wondering why Sarah didn't wake me so I could help her. The bathroom door opens, and she steps out, dragging her IV pole behind her, jumping as she notices me. I immediately go to her, wrapping my arm around her waist. "Sarah," I say, "why didn't you wake me?"
She snorts. "Harm, I'm a marine. I learned how to go to the potty by myself before I was three. I had it covered." She looks up at me. "And if my grunting and groaning getting out from under you didn't wake you up, I doubt anything would."
"Maybe…but you should have—"
"Harm!" she says, and I'm taken aback but also pleased at her authoritative voice.
"Okay, okay, Ninja Girl. Just didn't want you to hurt yourself." I notice then that she's a little tremulous, but I don't make a comment. I just lead her over to the bed and get her settled in again, then sit myself down in the chair I was using before.
"Hey, Flyboy, why don't you climb back in?" She pats the spot beside her.
"I don't want to press my luck with your nurses."
"They didn't seem to mind when they were in here earlier." I missed that too? She smiles at me a bit impishly, and my heart warms to see her looking more like her normal self. The moment is short-lived, however; in the next second, she's reaching for the hospital's version of a barf bag and emptying her stomach contents again. She's only had a little water and 7-Up since we've been here, so most of it is bile and stomach acid. Once she finishes, I hand over her cup of water so she can rinse her mouth.
"I'm getting a little sick of that," she sighs, falling back into her pillow after I take the barf bag from her. The bag has marks on it so one can measure the volume of vomit, and I dutifully note how much is in there before dumping the contents into the toilet and tossing the bag in the trash. I wash my hands then step out of the bathroom, asking her, "Hey, sweetie, how much did you pee?" They want to keep track of how much goes in and out of Sarah. She tells me, and I mark both numbers down on a sheet clipped to her bed.
She's looking at me apologetically. "I'm sorry, Harm."
"It's okay, baby," I say as I sit back down beside her. I flash her my best flyboy grin, as she calls it. "Now you know this is true love."
She studies me thoughtfully and her eyes get all soft. "Yes, it is," she says, slipping her hand into mine.
March 23rd, 2018
0815 Local
Naval Medical Center San Diego
San Diego, CA
Morning breaks with the sound of someone vomiting. It's Sarah, of course, and once again I'm left feeling rather impotent that I can't fix this for her. I know they've given her more medication, but it obviously hasn't kicked in yet. Once again, she is tearful and that breaks my heart too.
I spent the night on a fold-down sofa bed; it was hard as a rock of course, but I'm glad they have something for spouses and the like to sleep on. I climb out of bed and all I can do is rub her back as her body spasms, trying to blink back my own tears that have formed. I don't think I've ever cried so much in my life, not even when I was a kid, as I have in the last few months.
I do feel terribly guilty about all of this; I am, after all, the one who got her pregnant. I whisper 'I'm sorries' to her; she shakes her head before she heaves again. Finally, it passes, and she flops back, exhausted. I take the bag from her and dispose of it, mark the volume of it on her paper, and get back to her side as soon as I can. She looks me in the eye.
"Harm, it's not your fault."
"Oh, really?" I say, trying for a little levity. "Then whose fault is it?" I watch her face crumble and I know immediately that I've said absolutely the wrong thing.
"Sarah, honey, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I was just trying to make a joke, a piss-poor joke, but a joke. Shhh, sweetheart. I'm sorry." I want to kick myself or cut out my tongue. I know she carries a lot of guilt about how her various relationships have ended…Dalton, Mic, Clay…and then there was the incident before she left for San Diego. We'd fought, and I'd come over to her apartment to check on her and apologize. Instead, Clayton Webb was there, and my mind immediately jumped to the worst-case scenario. I refused to talk to her that night, and I know it broke her heart. She always takes on too much responsibility for anything that goes wrong around her, and that whole situation was no different.
It's at that moment, as I try to soothe the still sobbing mother of my child, that the admiral walks in. Behind him is the petite figure of Sarah's therapist, Dr. Maria Carmen. She just looks concerned, but AJ looks…pissed. His glare could burn a hole in someone, and I have the sudden urge to look down and make sure there isn't, in fact, a smoldering crater in my chest. The message is clear: 'What did you do to her now?' I can only shrug before turning back to Sarah, leaning down and whispering in her ear that she has visitors. She takes a few deep breaths and lets out a shaky, "Hi."
The admiral glares at me for a second longer then turns his attention to Sarah. His expression immediately softens and I almost…almost, roll my eyes. I mean, I don't really want to die today.
"Hey, Mac." He gives her a gentle smile and I move out of the way so he can sit down next to her. He pats her hand and asks, "How are you doing?"
Mac returns the smile, although it is a pretty weak version of her normal one. "I've been better, sir."
AJ pats her hand again. "It's AJ here, Mac."
"Okay, I've been better, AJ. How are you two?" Her smile brightens a bit at that, but as AJ starts to answer her, she's hit with more nausea and frantically grabs for another barf bag. She's fumbling a bit so AJ grabs it for her and I'm shocked when he actually holds it for her as she retches. I think I'm seeing what he wishes he could have done with his own daughter, Francesca. He wasn't around much when she was growing up and I'm sure it bothers him. I don't believe, however, that AJ is just projecting his fatherly feelings onto Sarah. He truly cares for her and in an unguarded moment as we drove to JAG to find Sarah after her confrontation with Sadik, he told me how much he regretted the whole Paraguay situation. That fiasco has had so many far-reaching effects…I don't think anyone around us has been spared.
Dr. Carmen, Maria, comes up beside me and asks if I've eaten anything yet this morning. I shake my head and she calls to AJ once Sarah is relaxed again. "AJ, dear," I smirk to myself. "Why don't you take Harm down to the cafeteria and I'll take care of Mac for a while." She steps up and takes the bag of vomit from AJ awhile Sarah weakly protests; it's hard enough for her to let me take care of such things. Maria waves away Sarah's objections as she looks meaningfully at AJ.
AJ looks reluctant, but he gets up anyway, quickly washes his hands, and motions to me. "Well, let's go, Rabb." I think he's still pissed about the scene he walked in on, so I'm a bit reluctant too. Admiral Chegwidden I can handle. I'm not so sure about Papa AJ.
0838 Local
Naval Medical Center San Diego
San Diego, CA
AJ and I grab some semi-edible items in the cafeteria and have a seat in the dining area. I take a drink of surprisingly good coffee and wait for AJ to lay into me. He stares at me for a while and I impressively refrain from squirming. Finally, he speaks. "What the hell did you do, Rabb?"
"Um…I knocked her up, sir." I grin winningly at him. Obviously I'm a moron with a death wish.
He sighs. "You said something stupid, didn't you."
I may as well come clean…to a point. "Yes, sir, I did." I notice he doesn't ask me to call him AJ today.
"Dammit, Rabb. Do better." I wait for him to say something else and am surprised when he doesn't. We sit in awkward silence for a minute and I decide to risk my life again.
"Soooo, you and Dr. Carmen?"
AJ rolls his eyes, but I don't miss the little glint in his eye. I chance a smile. "She's really great, sir." She truly is. She's helped Sarah a lot.
AJ sighs again. "Call me AJ, Harm." Good. I'm Harm again. He doesn't say anything for several seconds, then he breaks into a sheepish smile. "And yes, she is."
Sarah had told me that AJ had known Maria through Sydney Walden, an ex-girlfriend. He obviously thought very highly of her to trust one of his officers to her care. "So, when did this happen?" I ask, not really expecting an answer. He surprises me again, though.
"When I called her to tell her about Mac, we talked for a while longer after we made arrangements for Mac's counseling. I was, ah, reminded that she is quite a lovely person. I called her back later that night…and we talked for over two hours. I always enjoyed seeing her when she was still in Washington, but I was involved with Sydney then…turns out the feeling was mutual." He gets a triumphant smile on his face and I know I'm sitting there with my mouth gaping open. That is the most personal information he's ever shared with me. Ever. Oh lord, I think the admiral is in love.
"I'm very happy for you, sir, uh, AJ." And I am. God knows he and I have had our issues over the last couple of years, but we're moving beyond them, I think. I'm grateful for what he has done for Sarah in the last couple of months, and I'm glad they are on good terms again. She honestly thought she didn't matter to him…to anyone at JAG, really. She was deeply hurt by his behavior during and after Paraguay; it was a terrible blow to her to believe that the man she looked up to as a father didn't care about her. AJ is finally convincing her otherwise.
"Thanks, Harm." He claps me on the shoulder. "She's…well, you know how it is…" I know exactly how it is. AJ Chegwidden is smitten.
We finish our food and get up to throw away our trash. "Do you think we've been gone long enough?" he asks me, and I answer in the affirmative. Truthfully, I need to get back to Sarah. I'm getting nervous and antsy and being with her, making sure she is okay, is the only thing that will calm me down at the moment.
0944 Local
Naval Medical Center San Diego
San Diego, CA
Maria is sitting in the chair next to Sarah's bed. The two of them look to be in deep conversation, but Sarah looks up as we walk in and I'm rewarded with a brilliant smile. The medications must have finally kicked in, or maybe she is just that happy to see me…yes, that must be it.
"Hey, sweetie, the meds finally kicked in."
Oh, so it was the meds. Damn. I flash her a grin. "But you're still happy to see me, right?" I wiggle my eyebrows at her, and she gives an unladylike snort. She also blushes, which just makes her too cute.
The four of us talk about anything and everything for the next hour until the admiral stands. Holding out his hand for Maria, he turns and tells us that it was time they left so Sarah can get some rest. Maria stands as well and puts her hand on Sarah's. "Remember what we talked about, Mac," she says softly. Sarah nods and the two of them walk out the door. I have to smile when Maria slips her hand into the admiral's and he doesn't let go. She's a lot shorter than he is, younger too, and well, friendlier, but I have a good feeling about this.
"What's that smile about, Flyboy?" She pats the bed beside her and I sit down, setting my cup of coffee to the side and putting my arm around her. She leans back with a contented sigh.
"Oh, the admiral…they're cute together."
"I'll tell AJ the next time I see him that you think he's cute."
I give her a warning glare. "Not him, my Ninja Girl. Them."
She laughs a little and the sound is music to my ears. "You don't think she's too young for him?" She quirks an eyebrow at me.
"Not at all."
"That's not what you said a few days ago about Jen and Gunny…and I'm betting the age difference is bigger with AJ and Maria."
PO Coates and Gunny, aka Gunnery Sergeant Victor Galindez, met on Christmas Eve and have been dating ever since. I look at Jen like she's a little sister. Mac knows this, and she also knows my protective streak tends to go a little overboard when it involves 'family.' I shrug. "That's different."
"How?"
I think for a minute. "AJ and Maria are adults," I say triumphantly, knowing full well my argument is full of so many holes.
She laughs again, and I hope I keep amusing her this much so I can keep hearing that all-too-rare sound. "So are Gunny and Jen."
I just roll my eyes and look at her cross-eyed with my tongue out. I hope no one else sees this, I mean, I have a reputation to uphold, but Sarah is giggling again. Mission accomplished. I laugh too and then reach for my coffee and start to take a sip.
"They're engaged, you know."
Sarah's simple statement causes me to spit out my drink. "What?!"
She smiles sweetly at me. "Yes, he asked her last week. She said yes."
"How do you know this?"
"Gunny emailed me and told me he was going to ask. He sort of wanted to ask somebody for her hand, and you were TAD with a communications blackout. I was the next logical choice. I told him to storm the beaches."
"Why?" Okay, I'm being a little ridiculous here, but Jen is just a…grown woman who can make her own choices. And if I'm being honest with myself, Victor Galindez is one of the most honorable men I have ever known. He will take care of Jen, not that she really needs it, but Jen deserves someone like him.
Sarah is just looking at me with her eyebrow raised.
"Well, I will have to tell them both 'congratulations.'" She smiles at me then relaxes against my chest again.
We rest like that for a good fifteen minutes, just enjoying the closeness, but then Sarah starts to fidget. "You okay, honey?" I press my lips to her hair.
"Yeah, I just…I mean…I need to talk to you about what Maria and I talked about." She turns her head so she can look up at me. I feel a little apprehensive, but I nod and tell her to go on. She's quiet for another minute before she starts to speak.
"I feel like I'm failing our baby."
"Oh, sweetheart…" I pull her a little closer.
"I know I can't help…this," she motions to the bed we sit on, "but I still feel like I should be doing something better."
I hold my tongue for the moment. I desperately want to tell her there is no way she'll fail our baby, but I sense she has more to say.
"I know we talked about it already, but I feel so guilty about being pregnant for so many weeks and not knowing it. I didn't recognize the signs for what they were, I didn't even realize that I had missed more than one period. I didn't mean to forget to take my birth control…but I did and I didn't even think about it until that ER doc told me I was pregnant. I could have lost her, Harm. The fight with Sadik. The carbon monoxide…who knows what effects she might have from that? What if I've ruined things for her before she's even born?"
"You know I don't blame you for any of that, don't you?" I'm so afraid I'll say the wrong thing here, but I want her to know, and also believe, that she is not responsible for what happened. The blame lies solely on Sadik. Sarah doesn't answer me. I nudge her shoulder. "Sarah?"
"I feel like I betrayed you," she says, so softly I almost don't hear her.
"Why, baby?"
"That's just it…the baby. You thought I was on the pill. We didn't plan this…I feel like I trapped you, and then your baby could be born with problems…"
It's time to be firm. "Sarah, first off, I love you. The fact that you are carrying my child only makes me love you more. I don't feel trapped; I've wanted this baby with you for almost five years now and so many times it seemed like it wouldn't or couldn't happen. And here we are…we made good on our deal. And sweetheart, I know we can't predict the future, but I feel deep in my soul that our baby is going to be just fine."
Sarah is quiet, but a little sniffle tells me she is crying again. I hold her as close as I can, vowing that someday we'll only cry tears of happiness. I know that isn't realistic, but until my last breath, I will fight for it. A thought suddenly occurs to me. "You said she…do you know something I don't?"
"Um, what? Oh, no…I just have a feeling…"
I kiss her hair again. "You know what? I think she's a girl too." I then feel her finally relax into my body and I enjoy just holding her. After several minutes, just when I think she may have fallen asleep, she whispers, "Honey, can you help me to the bathroom and then get me a ginger ale?"
Uh-oh. She must be feeling sick again. "Nausea coming back?" I don't think she can have any more medication for another half hour or so.
"It never really goes away…it just gets more tolerable," she sighs. She's weary of it, I know.
I slide out of the bed, and I'm just about to help her out of it when a new person walks in. "Hello, may I come in?" She comes in before either of us can even nod. I don't know why doctors bother to ask…they always come in anyway. The blue-eyed doctor has dark auburn hair pulled back into an intricate braid and looks to be a little shorter than Mac. The name on the badge reveals her to be Commander Josie Markham, MD. I see the word 'Obstetrics' embroidered on her white coat.
"Colonel MacKenzie?" Sarah nods. "Hi, I'm Dr. Markham." She reaches out and shakes both our hands. "I took over for Dr. Winters, so I'll be overseeing your care while you're here. How's the nausea?" She picks up the pages where Sarah's 'Ins and Outs' are and peruses them.
Sarah grimaces. "It's definitely there…never has completely gone away, but the medication helps."
"Good…keeping liquids down?"
"Mostly…until the meds wear off."
"Have you eaten anything?"
Sarah looks over at me. "Um, just a few crackers he," she nods in my direction, "made me eat."
"How did that go?"
"Okay…but I got the impression if I ate anymore than the three or four I had, I'd have my face in a barf bag."
The doctor smiles sympathetically at that. "Well, I'm going to tweak your medications a bit and we'll try for some clear to full liquids today. The crackers are fine too if you keep doing okay with those. Don't push it, but I would really like to see you eating decently before you go. Some patients in your situation end up needing nutrition through IV's and I really hope we can avoid that. But, as I said, don't push it."
I look meaningfully at my marine. You hear that, Sarah? DON'T push it, I tell her with my eyes and she nods slightly. Then Dr. Markham completely changes the subject.
"When's the last time you urinated?"
Sarah tells her she was just about to go.
"Hold that thought…I want an ultrasound today. You had one in DC already, right?"
"Um, last week…in the ER. It was just a quick one." Sarah's ultrasound in the Georgetown ER was an uncomfortable experience…they did it transva—you know what, I'm not even going to think about that. Sarah told me the tech performing the ultrasound wasn't the most gentle, barely pointed out the baby on the screen, then left before printing even one picture. I notice my heart is pounding a little. I can't wait to see my baby 'live' so to speak.
"Well, this one will be pretty quick too. I just want to confirm your dates, listen to the heartbeat." Dr. Markham looks toward the door. "We'll get started when Shannon gets here with the ultrasound machine." At that moment, one of the nurses who was in here earlier wheels in the appropriate equipment. Dr. Markham pulls the machine closer to her and has Sarah lie back as she raises the bed up a bit. She then pulls up Sarah's gown and tucks a towel into the waistband of Sarah's underwear.
She takes a squeeze bottle from the ultrasound cart and shakes it a few times. "Cold gel," she warns and Sarah jumps a little at the chill as the bluish gel makes contact with her skin. I reach out and grab her hand as Dr. Markham puts the probe down low on Sarah's belly. Almost instantly, I see an oddly shaped object resting in a dark oval area. It's my turn to jump as the object suddenly moves and it hits me…this is our baby. I watch in awe as a short little limb that must be her leg juts out and then she seems to roll over on herself. I know that we won't be able to tell the sex of the baby for several weeks yet, but I'm even more certain now that this is a girl.
Dr. Markham does a few quick measurements and confirms that Sarah is indeed ten weeks along. Ten weeks, three days to be exact (actually plus or minus a few days). Then she asks us if we'd like to hear the heartbeat. I look over at Sarah and I'm sure we both look like kids in a candy store as we nod.
The doctor fiddles with a few knobs and then there it is…our baby's heartbeat. It sounds like so much galloping and tapping all at once, and it's so very fast. There are tears in my eyes as Sarah's hand tightens around mine. I look down at her, and what I see makes my tears fall.
Sarah is crying too, but on her face is a look of wonder and…I've never seen that expression on her face, haven't seen anything even approaching it since long before she left for Paraguay.
It's a look of pure, unadulterated joy.
End Chapter 1