A/N1: This story is rated PG-13. Although it does deal with rape, there is very little graphic detail of the actual assault. This story also finds Mac on a spiritual journey as a result of being raped. This story contains scripture references, as well as discussions about God and Jesus Christ. (Actually, Mac finds God.) That said, I don't want any irate emails - disclaimers have been posted. It's now your choice to read or not. On the other hand, if you have any comments on how I've presented the Christian aspect of this story, whether positive or constructive, I'd love to hear from you.
A/N2: It began as a way to write Catherine Bell's pregnancy into the show. It then took on a life of its own. I dedicate this story to my kindred JAG spirit, Leigh Anne, even though she's a die-hard Mac and Harm shipper.
A/N3: Many thanks to Suzanne Moore for her beta-reading, comments, and suggestions, and for her always-encouraging words.
Disclaimer: I do not own JAG, Harm, Mac, Bud, Harriet, et al. I have earned nothing from this endeavor but the joy that comes from the writing and the possibility of some feedback.
~*~*~
Chapter One
1238 Zulu (0538 CST)
Marine Corps Detachment Fort Leonard Wood
Ozarks, Missouri
Mac slipped into her black nylon jogging shorts and pulled her Sgt. Joe Dutch tee shirt over her head. After double-knotting her sneakers, she grabbed her keys and left her room at the VOQ.
Her investigation was not going well and Mac thought a good run would be just the thing to clear her head and purge her body of the stress.
At 0541, the sun was just peeking through the trees, and Mac relished the cool air. Early mornings in Missouri, even in August, were relatively cool-between sixty and seventy degrees. After warming up for ten minutes or so, Mac set out in an easterly direction in order to enjoy the full impact of the sunrise.
The pink fingers of the clouds spread out across the expanse of Missouri sky. As Mac marveled at the brilliant display of God's handiwork and contemplated her day, Mac failed to hear the second beat of pounding footsteps behind her.
The snap of a twig finally alerted her to another's presence and she gasped in fright. She turned in time to see another jogger-female-pass her on the trail. Mac smiled as best she could, but her heart was beating so hard that she veered off the trail and over to a fallen log to calm her erratic heartbeat and ragged breathing.
She jogged in place for a few moments before finally taking a seat on the log. Mac inhaled deeply a few times to steady her breathing. She looked up at the sky and took another deep breath.
A hand snaked around from behind and clamped over Mac's mouth as a burly arm grabbed her around the waist and pulled her backwards into the trees. Mac kicked and scratched at her abductor the best she could, finally biting the man's hand.
"Ouch! You bitch," he growled in her ear, but didn't loosen his grip. After dragging her about twenty feet, he threw her to the ground.
Mac landed with a muffled thud on the underbrush and struggled with her attacker to try to get away. The man pulled at her shirt, trying to rip it off. She fought as hard as could, pushing against his chest. He finally backhanded her just enough to set her off-balance so that he could get a better grip on her.
Her strength began to wane, but her Marine spirit was loathe to give in. She ceased struggling for a few moments in order to gather her strength for another attempt at breaking free. In that moment, the man stripped her shirt off.
She took as deep a breath as she could and tried to angle her knee into the right position to hit his groin. Unfortunately, he was anticipating her move. He pushed her to the ground with a hard shove, her head banging against a stone. The blow was enough to severely dull her wits, and her efforts to defend herself became a challenge. She struggled to memorize her attacker's features, height, and build, but the darkness continued to close in on her until she finally blacked out.
Mac awoke several hours later. She struggled to sit up, but fell back to the ground with a low moan. Her head was throbbing and her whole body ached.
"Oh, God–" she murmured as the memories of her assault flooded her mind. She rolled over to her side and vomited.
After she emptied her stomach, she lay quietly for several minutes trying to assess any physical damage. She tried to figure out how long she had been passed out, but her internal clock was not functioning. She'd be better able to tell once she left the darkness of the trees and could see where the sun sat in the sky.
She sat up again and realized that she was completely naked. Mac wretched again, realizing the full implications. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and looked for her clothes. They lay in small heap a few feet away.
She was thankful that neither her shirt nor her shorts had received much damage. Unlike her under things, which looked like they'd been torn off in aggravation or impatience. In fact, her ribs and hips felt raw and sore.
She eased her clothing back on, but had to lie back down for a few moments until a bout of nausea passed.
Finally deciding that she was physically capable of making it back to the VOQ under her own power, Mac struggled to her feet, moaning and groaning the whole time.
It took a good thirty minutes for Mac to limp back to the VOQ. She earned several curious looks, however no one offered any assistance except for one compassionate petty officer and Mac politely refused.
"Colonel MacKenzie! Are you all right?" exclaimed the sergeant behind the desk as Mac collapsed into a plastic chair that had seen better days.
"Do I look all right, Sergeant?" Mac asked wearily, idly wondering in the back of her mind how her hair must look. Probably full of leaves, twigs, and pine needles, she thought. "Call the MPs. I was attacked while out on my run."
The sergeant's eyes widened as he regarded the disheveled officer in front of him before scurrying off to do as he was bid. "Yes, Ma'am!"
Mac leaned her head back against the wall and took a deep breath. Her heart was still beating rapidly.
"Would you like some water, Ma'am?" asked Sergeant Moran, gently, a few minutes later, offering her a bottle of water.
"Thank you, Moran," Mac replied, mustering up a half-smile. She accepted the bottle of Evian and took a long swig.
"The MPs will be here momentarily," Moran told her.
Mac nodded and closed her eyes.
Once the MPs arrived, Mac related the incident as best she could, apologizing profusely for not being able to remembering more details. About an hour later they were finished and the staff sergeant suggested she go to the infirmary to be checked out.
"That's not necessary, Staff Sergeant," Mac insisted.
"I'm afraid it is, Ma'am. SOP," he told her. "A car will pick you up in twenty minutes. Please call your CO to inform him or her of your delay this morning, but don't shower or change."
"I outrank you, Staff Sergeant Johnson. I could refuse."
"And I could charge you with DDO," Johnson replied. "In these types of situations, I have the authority to issue this order. You're a JAG; you know I'm right. Please, Ma'am."
Mac finally nodded. Better here than in Washington, she thought, although the paperwork would eventually end up in her personnel file.
She trudged slowly up the stairs to her second floor room and sank onto the edge of the bed and picked up the phone with a trembling hand.
"JAG Headquarters, Admiral Chegwidden's office. How can I help you?" asked Tiner across the phone line.
"Tiner, this is Colonel MacKenzie. I need to speak with the admiral," Mac said as evenly as she could.
"He's in a meeting with Commanders Rabb and Turner, Ma'am," Tiner replied.
"Tiner, unless the admiral specifically told you not to disturb them, I need to speak with him, and I need to speak with him now." Mac's voice turned more Marine-like with each word.
Tiner realized something was up and that he had no choice. "Yes, Ma'am. One moment."
A few moments later the admiral's voice boomed onto the line. "Colonel MacKenzie, this had better be good!"
"Mac, what's going on?" asked Harm.
The admiral obviously had her on speakerphone. "Sir, respectfully, could you lower your voice and take me off speakerphone?"
Harm and Sturgis exchanged a glance at the sound of her voice. It didn't sound quite like the Mac they knew.
The admiral picked up on it, as well, and picked up the receiver. "Colonel, are you all right?" His voice was considerably lower in volume.
"Admiral, I understand that both Commander Rabb and Commander Turner are in your office."
"Yes, they are, Colonel," he replied, concernedly.
"Admiral, what I have to tell you is classified."
"They both have cleara—"
"This is personal, Sir."
"Oh. I understand. Hang on."
Mac could hear the admiral's muffled voice telling Harm and Sturgis they were dismissed.
~*~
Harm and Sturgis looked at each other in concern as they passed through Tiner's office into the bullpen.
"I wonder what that was all about," remarked Sturgis.
"I don't know," said Harm darkly, "But I don't like the sound of it."
~*~
"What's going on, Colonel?" the admiral asked gently when he came back on the line.
"Well, Sir–"
"Mac, what's going on? Are you all right?"
Mac took a breath and said, "Yes and no, Sir. I was attacked this morning while running-"
"My god!"
"I'm okay, Sir, really, but the MPs are insisting that I go to the infirmary and get checked out."
"Damn straight," the admiral agreed. "Do I need to send someone to take over for you?"
"No, Sir," Mac replied indignantly. "I can complete my assignment. I just wanted to inform you that I'll be delayed and why."
"Very well, Colonel, but if you change your mind, let me know," Admiral Chegwidden told her.
"Aye, Sir. And Admiral—?"
"Yes?"
"Please don't say anything to Comm—to anybody."
"He should know, Colonel."
"Yes, Sir, but I'd rather tell him face to face."
"All right. See you when you get back, Colonel."
"Aye, aye, Sir."
~*~
1225 Zulu
Bethesda Medical Center
Two weeks later
"So Colonel, are you still having nightmares about your attack?" asked Captain Pritchard, a Navy psychologist.
"No, Ma'am. The last one I had was the night before our appointment last week," Mac replied.
"Good, good–" Captain Pritchard jotted a few shorthand notes on her notepad. "And have you told Commander Rabb about what happened?"
Mac shook her head.
"Colonel, we discussed this. As your partner and your– friend, he needs to know," admonished the captain.
"I know, I know. I just can't figure out how to bring the subject up."
~*~
1349 Zulu
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia
"Let's go over this one more time, Lance Corporal," Harm insisted impatiently to his latest client, Stephan Carter.
"It's like I told you, Sir," began Carter. "I—"
"Harm—" Mac called as she entered Harm's office. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't–" Her voice trailed off and her eyes widened in fear and then shock. Her face paled visibly.
Looking from Mac to his client and then back again, Harm asked, "Mac, what is it?"
Mac backpedaled quickly out of Harm's office.
Harm jumped from his seat and hurried after her. "What is it? What's wrong?" he asked, grabbing her upper arm.
Mac finally dragged her eyes from Lance Corporal Carter and looked at Harm. "It's him," she whispered. "He's the one who- Harm!" Her cry of alarm got everyone in the bullpen's attention.
"You sonovabitch," growled Harm. He had Lance Corporal Carter pinned to the wall by the neck with a vice like grip.
"Oh my god!" Harriet exclaimed, holding her hand to her heart.
Mac's shout had alerted everyone, including Sturgis who tried cajoling Harm into letting go of the lance corporal.
Harm paid him no mind and continued to hold the lance corporal, who easily outweighed him by a hundred pounds, and watched almost gleefully as he gasped for breath.
"Commander Rabb! Stand down!" barked Admiral Chegwidden in his loudest, sternest voice after having been roused from his office by all the commotion.
Harm's naval training finally kicked in and he released the lance corporal. His eyes flashed with rage as he turned to Admiral Chegwidden and came to attention.
"My office, NOW," the admiral barked again. To Harriet he said, "Call the MPs and a corpsman-in that order."
Lance Corporal Carter slid to the floor clutching his neck and gasping for air once Harm had released him.
Harm made a beeline for the admiral's office.
Admiral Chegwidden slammed his office door behind him as he entered his office on Harm's heels. "What the hell was that?" he demanded.
"Lance Corporal Carter was the one who attacked Ma—Colonel MacKenzie, Sir," Harm exclaimed.
"And that gives you the right to attack him like a rabid dog?" asked the admiral.
"Admiral, I'd kill for her," Harm blurted, surprising them both.
The admiral deflated slightly at Harm's admission, but looked sharply at him.
Harm's face felt warm and he studiously avoided the admiral's gaze, preferring to concentrate on a point on the wall behind the admiral's desk.
"So would I, Commander, so would I," the admiral admitted. "But only if it were the last resort. We've got the law on our side, Commander, and we will prosecute the lance corporal to full extent of the law." The admiral crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the front of his desk. "However, that does not excuse your behavior, Commander. You will receive disciplinary action."
"Yes, Sir," Harm replied.
The admiral shook his head and walked over to the side door of his office. Opening it, he looked over toward Harm's office. The lance corporal was nowhere to be seen. He closed it again and went back and sat down. Harm continued to stand at attention for a few more minutes. "Dismissed," the admiral finally released him.
"Aye, Sir." Harm tapped his heels together and smartly about faced before heading back to his own office.
"Where's Colonel MacKenzie?" he queried several of the office personnel. Most shrugged and shook their heads. "Sturgis, where's Mac?" Harm asked frantically, coming across his friend.
"I think she's in the ladies room with Harriet," Sturgis said. "As soon as you headed for the admiral's office–" Sturgis just looked after his friend's disappearing figure.
"Are you okay, Ma'am?" Harriet asked from outside one of the stalls in the ladies room.
As soon as Harm had let go of Lance Corporal Carter and marched to Admiral Chegwidden's office, Mac's stomach had roiled forcefully. She walked as fast as she could to the ladies room and locked herself in a stall, retching violently into the commode. Mac's eyes watered from the force of it, and she breathed heavily from the exertion.
"Ma'am–"
"I-I'm okay, Harriet," Mac said unevenly.
"Can I get you anything?"
"Mac!" Harm's voiced echoed around the tile room through the small crack he made when he pushed the door open slightly. "Are you all right?"
"Commander, do you want to come in? There's no one else in here," Harriet assured him.
"Well, I–I don't know," Harm replied, realizing where he was. "How is she?"
"She says she's okay," Harriet said.
"Do you think you both could excuse me for a moment so I could freshen up?" Mac asked, her voice a bit strained.
"Yes, Ma'am," Harriet replied immediately. She pushed Harm away from the bathroom door as she exited. "She'll be fine. Why don't you wait in your office?" Harriet suggested.
Harm nodded and went back to his office. He couldn't concentrate for thinking about Mac and stared unseeing at his computer screen.
"Harm?" Mac asked tentatively from Harm's office doorway, several minutes later.
He looked up at her immediately and jumped to his feet. "Are you all right?" he asked again, gently.
She nodded. "The admiral gave me an early and extended lunch. There's something I've got to do."
"Do you need any help?" Harm asked.
"No, it's okay. You have enough to deal with here," she said. "I'll call you later, okay?"
~*~
Mac stared at the tiny plastic stick in her hand and the tears trickled down her cheeks.
Damn.
Why she didn't think about a pregnancy before now, Mac didn't know. Her cycles had always been erratic, especially when she was stressed as she had been for the last month and a half, so there was no being 'late' to raise her suspicions.
What am I going to do?
Raising a child as a single parent was do-able. But she didn't want to have to. She wanted things in the right order.
First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes baby in the baby carriage–
Mac pushed herself up off the floor. She went into her room and picked up the phone.
~*~
"What can I do for you, Colonel?" asked Captain Pritchard a few days later.
Mac stared out the window for a few moments before answering. Then turning to look at the captain, she said, "I'm going to have a baby."
"Oh. I assumed that we were past that danger since you hadn't said anything about it," said the captain.
Mac shook her head.
"Well then, you deal with it. How do you really feel about it?" Captain Pritchard asked.
Mac turned to look back out the window, not really sure how to answer the captain's question.
~*~
"Thanks for meeting me here, Sturgis," Mac said.
"I would have expected Harm to call me here, but not you," Sturgis said, indicating the Vietnam Wall standing sentinel in the background.
"Well, I've spent a lot of time here with Harm, and also a lot of time here worrying about Harm," she offered with a wan smile.
"So can I safely assume that this is about Harm then?" Sturgis sat down next to Mac on a wooden bench.
"I don't know." Mac looked at Sturgis, then at the Wall, and then at the sky, and back at Sturgis. "How do you feel about abortion?"
Sturgis was taken aback. This was certainly not the question he'd been anticipating. His mouth made a slight 'O' as he realized the implication of her question. "Mac, are you–?"
She nodded and smiled half-heartedly.
"Does Harm know?"
This time Mac shook her head.
"Okay." He nodded. "Well, personally, Mac, I'm against abortion. God is against abortion. If life starts at conception, and I believe it does, then abortion is murder, and murder is a sin according to the 5th commandment." Sturgis watched his friend.
"Why me?" she asked.
"Why not you?" he asked, earning a dirty look. "Who would you wish this on? Lieutenant Singer?"
Mac snorted. "Well, after all the horrible things she's done, don't you think she deserves it more than I do?"
"No."
"No?"
"Look, Mac, we don't know what kind of things have happened in her past. Perhaps something so terrible happened to her as a child and God knew she wouldn't have been able to handle this type of thing."
"When did you suddenly develop a liking for Singer?"
"I haven't, but I honestly don't believe that she could handle it."
"Are you kidding?" asked Mac surprised. "The ice princess?"
"She is the way she is for a reason, and while we may not understand or like her, everything happens the way it happens for a reason. Romans 8: 28 says, 'And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to his purpose.'"
"I don't think I've been called," Mac said.
"God calls out to you every day, Mac, but you have to know how to listen," Sturgis said gently.
Mac didn't know what to say to that.
"You should tell Harm."
"Everyone keeps telling me that," Mac replied impatiently. "Harm and I aren't even dating or anything."
"Oh, please," Sturgis replied sarcastically. "You two are something. Everyone knows it, and so do you, and so does Harm. You may not be able to define it, but you two are definitely off limits to everyone else. Anyone can see it when they look at you two together."
"Are we that transparent?" Mac asked.
"No, not really. There's just something special that surrounds you two—even when you're at each other's throats." Sturgis smiled at her. "You have to tell him."
~*~
Mac opened the door on the third ring of the doorbell. "Hi."
"What took you so long?" Harm asked stepping inside and shrugging out of his jacket.
"I'm sorry. I was brushing my teeth," she explained before showing him her teeth.
"You didn't have to brush them on my account—unless, of course, you've been hitting the Beltway Burgers with onions again." He smiled as he leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek.
"Oh, no. Just the thought is enough to make me sick," she told him.
"What? You?" he asked in surprise.
"Harm, let's sit down. There's something I need to tell you," Mac said, her tone serious and her face anxious, as she led him to the couch.
Harm sat in one corner and Mac sat next to him, turned sideways to face him.
"Harm, I'm pregnant," she blurted. She watched as his eyes widened, his jaw clenched, and the color drained from his face. "Harm?"
He rubbed his hand over his face before responding. "Mac, I thought we were moving forward. I know it's been slow going, but I thought–I thought it was okay."
"You think I slept with another man because things aren't progressing fast enough between us?" Mac asked incredulously. "Come on, Harm, think. I haven't been with anybody willingly since Mic left."
Realization dawned and Harm exploded off the couch. "Carter—the bastard! He raped you?"
"That's not going to do anybody any good. Calm down, Harm, please."
Harm took a deep breath and looked at Mac. "I don't know how you can be so calm about this."
"Well, I knew there was the possibility, and I've been seeing a psychologist," she explained.
"What?" Harm began pacing. "You didn't tell me you were raped. You didn't tell me you were seeing a shrink. You only told me you were raped because now you're pregnant because of it, and now you want me to calm down?"
"Harm, I'm sorry."
"You're sorry?" Harm asked incredulously, stopping to look at her derisively. "You should have told me. Everything. Right from the beginning. It's been two months, Mac, and you're just now telling me, and only because you've been forced by circumstances to do so?"
"Harm, please–"
"No—I'm pissed, Mac. And I don't think I'm in the wrong here. Were you just going to keep the rape a secret had you not ended up pregnant with that bastard's child?"
Mac glanced down at her hands and back up at Harm. "I-I don't know–"
"That's great, Mac, just great." He resumed his pacing. "How are we supposed to develop our relationship if you're not going to confide in me?"
"Hey!" Mac jumped up from the couch to confront him. "Look who's talking, Harm. You're not the greatest communicator in the world either."
"Well, first of all, we're not talking about me. Second, it's already a well-established fact that I'm verbally challenged when it comes to what I'm feeling, especially when it comes to you or to us, and third, you've never had a problem sharing the big things with me. What's changed?"
"I didn't want to worry you unnecessarily," Mac replied. "I thought if you didn't know I was raped, then you wouldn't–"
"Wouldn't what?"
"Worry about me," she lied.
"My god, Mac. What happened to you affects me–and in a big way." He turned away from her and ran his hands angrily through his hair. "I can't believe it." He turned back to her. "I need to go." Harm picked up his jacket and walked out the door.
Mac stared at the door for a while. Harm's anger had taken her by surprise. She had expected the rage against Lance Corporal Carter, but not his animosity toward her.
She went back over to the couch and sat down, slumping against the back. She stared at her still flat abdomen for a moment before undoing the closure on her pants and placing her left hand, palm down on her bare tummy.
Mac contemplated the tiny life growing within. It didn't hurt to think about the baby anymore. With the help of Captain Pritchard, she had dealt with most of her issues—well, except one. Harm.
Mac turned her eyes toward the ceiling and wondered if God was really calling to her on a daily basis. She sighed and closed her eyes.
Mac blinked in the darkness, before groaning and sliding out of bed.
"Hey, hey, hey, precious," she cooed softly to the squalling bundle in the cradle. Mac gently lifted her son from his cocoon of blankets and held him close. "It's okay, mommy's here." She clicked on the dim nightlight and slid back in bed, snuggling against her pillows against the headboard. Unsnapping her nightdress, she directed the baby's mouth to her waiting breast. He latched on quickly and began suckling immediately.
Mac smiled at the soft snuffling noises of her nursing child and gently rubbed her index finger down his tiny nose and across his downy cheek. The baby's eyes popped open and brown eyes looked into brown eyes. "Hello, my little sunshine," Mac said quietly. The baby released her nipple and smiled up at her. Mac laughed softly; it was his first smile.
Feeding time forgotten for a moment, Mac relished the feeling of completeness. She looked over at the body next to her, which hadn't moved despite the baby's wails, and debated on whether or not to wake him. She shook her head at the baby. "Nah–It'll be our special moment." The baby let out a cry in response and Mac wasted no time in snuggling her son back against her breast.
Mac awoke with a start, surprised to find herself still on the couch. It was way past her bedtime so she dragged herself off to bed.
As she snuggled into her bed, she was struck with déjà vu, and she gasped as her dream came flooding back to her and she remembered the contentment and peace she had felt.
That's nothing compared to the peace of knowing My Son, said a voice in the darkness.
But Mac was not afraid. She smiled in the darkness and drifted off to sleep.
To be continued…