Weariness of Minds
Disclaimer: JAG and its characters does not belong to me, I'm just borrowing them for my, and hopefully other people's entertainment.
A/N: Ok, so I'm a little stuck right now with my ongoing stories, and while waiting for inspiration to strike, there is this one little scene from The Four Percent Solution that kept torturing me – you know, the flashback when Mac comes over to Harm's place but he is not alone? Every time I watch it, it's just painful all over again. It didn't give me any peace until I finally sat down and wrote what I thought should have happened. It starts off at the beginning of this particular scene, so even if you don't know it, read on; I promise you'll get the drift.
Typically for me, the little shipper-fix I intended it to be grew much bigger, so while I do some more editing, I thought I'd split it up into bit-sized pieces and start you off with a first part (it'll probably be 4 parts in total). The rest is more or less finished, so for once, I can actually promise quick updates (unless, of course, my computer breaks down again).
My excuses for not having updated my other stories in a rather long time. Like I said, I'm a bit stuck with them, and very short on time. Please don't throw any squishy tomatoes my way for writing something else instead (it was just begging to be written). I won't abandon the stories, I promise!
Hope you'll enjoy, and on with it…
----------------------------
Weariness of Minds
Why am I so nervous? This is my closest friend; I should be able to just knock on his door. But this is just the thing… I don't know if he still is that. Yes, we are still friends on some level, but the closeness we once shared has dissipated. Oh, who am I kidding? I blew it! I know it's no use dwelling on past mistakes right now; over the years we've both made our share of stupid decisions. But now, when he seemed to have offered what I've wanted all my life, I pushed him away. Granted, his timing sucked, and since then, my life has gone from bad to worse. The reality of probably never being able to have children has literally sucked the life out of me. I've tried to deal with it on my own; hell this is what I had to do all my life, why should it be any different now? Yet the reality is… I just can't. And I miss him. So much.
So I find myself in the hallway of his building, in front of his door. I dressed casually, yet flatteringly. A soft, chocolate-colored sweater that makes my hair appear more radiant over a pair of hip-hugging jeans. I know he likes me in jeans, and don't ask me why I know it since he's never said anything, but I just know. Not that I plan something here; I just want to talk to him. It's been three days that I've hardly slept a wink; I am exhausted and confused and lonely.
This is silly. By now, he has more than once offered that I could, even should, come and talk to him. So I'm going to take him up on that offer now. I take a deep breath and lift my arm and finally knock. It'll be alright, I reassure myself. The door swings open, and the reality of him almost knocks me off balance. God, he looks good in civvies. A plain white shirt and jeans; casual, comfortable. He looks surprised; I can't blame him.
"I was gonna say I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop by," I start babbling, "but there's nothing in your neighborhood, so…"
He smiles at me, a soft smile; reassuring. Yet behind it, there's something else; I can't tell what but it makes me feel like running.
"You wanna talk?" It's more a statement than a question; sometimes it scares me how well he seems to know me.
"That would be good," I blurt out. God, I missed him. I have this sudden urge to just fling myself in his arms; I'm so tired of fighting on my own. Instead I just look up at him and what I see makes my insides clench. He's not smiling anymore.
"Can it wait until the morning?" His question makes my smile falter. He hadn't attempted to let me in either. I try hard to hang onto my self-control, but I already have the suspicion that I am too late.
"You busy?" My voice sounds wobbly even to my own ears.
"Ah…we…ah…," he fumbles for words, "we were about to sit down." He looks somewhat embarrassed when he blurts it out, and I just know, I'm not going to like the answer to this riddle. I feel a soaring in my ears, my breath hitches and I'm afraid I'm going to start hyperventilating. Still I hold on to that shred of self-control, this tiny ray of hope that things might not be the way they seem.
"I thought Mattie was with her dad?" I can't look at him anymore; if I do, I might break.
Two words bring it all home to me.
"She is," he says, and my heart shatters into a million pieces. I'm surprised he doesn't hear the crash.
Then the door is opened further and she appears.
"Hey, Colonel," Alicia addresses me, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to butt in, but the timer just went off…"
By now, she has turned to Harm, and I'm glad she won't see the very revealing stare I know I must be giving him. He has the decency to look a bit embarrassed himself, but it doesn't matter. He has the right to move on. I just wish it didn't hurt so damn much. I try hard to swallow the big lump that has formed in my throat, and bring my defenses back in place. I'm hoping they'll last until the door is closed again, with them on one side and me on the other.
"Hang on one second," he directs at me, and then I watch him disappear back into his apartment, and out of my reach. I think that's where he's always been.
An awkward pause follows as Alicia and I face each other.
"Why don't you come in?" She asks me, and I'm momentarily stunned by the ease with which she seems to be at home at his place. But I can read from her demeanor that she realizes that there was much more to the little scene she just interrupted, accidentally or not.
"No…no… You guys enjoy your meal." I see the invitation for what it is; hell, if I were in her place, I wouldn't want another woman to butt in on my date, either.
"You sure?" Alicia looks at me questioningly and I feel as if she knows exactly what is going on in my head. So I plaster a smile on my face and go through the required motions to make it appear as if all she witnessed was a casual meeting of two friends and that I'd be no threat to her.
"Yeah, I was just in the neighborhood, so…" I trail off at the end of the sentence, already making my retreat towards the elevator.
"Okay," she says, still looking at me concerned, and I find that I can't even hate her. At least he picked well this time. Alicia is beautiful, smart, and apparently very perceptive, in a non-gloating way. I turn back from the elevator one more time.
"Ahem, tell him I'll call him later." I ask, which I won't, of course. I've got more answers than I bargained for in these last few minutes and I'll need some time to process them. She just nods, and then watches me get into the elevator and close the gate.
Only when the door to his apartment is finally closed do I allow myself to let the mask drop. I'm reeling from the pain that clutches my insides. Tears are welling up in my eyes, but I angrily force them back. I wrap my arms around myself, as if holding my sides will keep me from ripping apart. It's too late.
I can't tell how I've managed to hold it together, but I make it home somehow. I don't even bother to turn the lights on; the darkness fits my mood so much better. I've given up on getting any sleep tonight. By now, the tears are running down my face, but I can't make the effort to wipe them away. The keys and the jacket I had flung over my arm fall listlessly from my hands and drop to the floor; I just leave them there. I drag myself into the kitchen first and turn the kettle on; maybe a nice cup of tea will calm me down. But I can't be bothered to wait there for the water to boil, and with my seemingly last ounce of energy, I make it to my couch. I plop down and bring my knees up to my chest. My arms wrap protectively around my legs, and I let my forehead drop onto my knees.
I just sit there, letting the tears fall while my thoughts are tormenting me. I was too late. I've lost him. It was only a matter of time until some woman snatched him off the market; he's a good catch and it surprises me that it hasn't happened earlier. This time I know it's for real. At least she will be able to give him his own children. The thought makes me cry out in pain.
I hear the electric kettle turn off, but instead of getting up, I just let myself fall on my side onto the couch, my legs still hugged to my chest. I remain there, bundled up in the corner of the sofa, remembering a past full of regrets and staring into a bleak future. I feel my body turning numb; my feet are ice-cold, but I can't make myself care.
TBC