o o o o o o
Mac awoke to several sensations at once. The room was cast in dim light, the outside sunlight barely filtering through the closed curtains. She blinked her surroundings into focus while she tried to get her bearings. She was lying on a soft mattress, surrounded by mountains of pillows and covered with several blankets. She was sweating profusely, but when she tried to lift the blankets off herself, she found that she couldn't even raise her arms; despite the directions her brain tried to give, they remained limply at her sides. She was hurting all over, and parts of her skin seemed to burn like fire, but she couldn't locate the pain. It was just everywhere at once.
And she was alone. She was sweaty, needed those blankets to come off; weak and in pain, and suddenly she felt like crying. Had it been just a dream that Harm had come to rescue her? If it was, then how did she get here? And if it wasn't, then where was he? A sob spilled forth that she couldn't keep in, and she closed her eyes while the tears spilled out from under her lashes.
Suddenly her tears were wiped off her cheeks, and without having to open her eyes, she knew that it was Harm. His thumbs moved over her cheekbones, wiping along just below her eyes, just like he always did when she was crying and they were on good terms with each other. His touches were so soft and tender that more emotion bubbled up inside of her, and she sobbed even harder.
"Oh Mac," he whispered, and suddenly she found herself in his arms again, pulled onto his lap with his arms around her. She buried her face in his shirt and sobbed and cried and wept.
"It's okay, Baby," Harm muttered close to her ear, "let it all out," while he ran his fingers over her hair and down her back. "It'll be alright…"
She hated being so weak and wimpy, but she couldn't really make herself care. It just wouldn't stay in any longer. The fear, the pain, the anxiety, the dread of the last weeks caught up with her, steamrolled over her and only left behind her deflated shell.
When the sobs finally subsided after a long while, she felt utterly drained and exhausted. But also a tiny bit better inside. The clamp that seemed to have been wrapped around her heart for weeks had at long last loosened, allowing her to feel again.
"Better?" Harm wondered, his voice a warm whisper that floated through the semi-dark room and washed straight through her, flashing her with heat. Awareness caught up with her all at once – she was still achy all over, couldn't move; flushed and sweaty, dirty and disgusting.
"I feel so…" She tried to formulate something coherent, but there was just too much at once. "Yucky."
To her surprise, laughter rumbled through his chest; she could feel it even before she could hear it. "Yucky?" He echoed with mirth.
"Yeah, you know, icky." He was still chuckling. "I'm sweaty, and dirty, and I probably smell." He didn't refute that. "A lot." She smiled into his chest. "I think I should take a bath."
"I don't think that's such a good idea, Mac. Your burns would hurt like hell."
"Burns?"
Instead of answering, he pulled up one of her sleeves, and now she could finally locate the burning sensation on her skin. Her forearm sported a round, angry red mark, a few blisters having already formed. Now that she was aware, they hurt even more. She gasped, staring at her arm. "How many of those do I have?"
"I don't know yet. I only noticed the one on your arm when I carried you up here." Her eyes flew up to his.
"So this is how I got here," she stated.
"Well, I didn't want to wake you up, and I don't think you could have walked on your own anyway." Which was more than likely, she thought, being as how she couldn't even manage to wrap her arms around Harm's waist for they remained limp, refusing any orders given by her brain.
"Your pregnancy suit came in handy again; I just told people you fell ill. But when I tried to pick you up, I jostled your arm by accident. You flinched in your sleep, so I checked and found the burn mark on your arm." She just nodded; it's what happens when electricity hits the skin – it burns it.
"I had to wrap you in a blanket though," he continued, "so nobody would see the blood on your shirt." Her eyes fell downward immediately, looking at her front, and she gasped.
"Clay's blood," she whispered. Her eyes clouded over, reliving the horrors of the past days, and suddenly she wanted it all to go away. No more blood; she wanted to get rid of it. This shirt had to come off! She tried to grasp the hem but her arm just wouldn't move. "Off," she whimpered fearfully, "it needs to come off." Her eyes darted through the room in terror.
Harm's heart broke for all she had to endure and would have to relive over and over again.
"Shhh," he soothed her, taking a hold of her face with both his hands, imploring her to look at him. "It's over; you're safe now," he continued when her eyes finally met his, "I'll take it off for you, okay?" She nodded then, and he could feel her whole body deflate and go limp. He guided her to lay back down on the bed, then swiped her hair off her sweaty face. "We have to clean your wounds anyway."
He left her side to get a washbowl filled with warm water and a washcloth, as well as the supplies he had gone to get earlier at the hotel pharmacy, a couple of bandages and iodine cream for the burns, then sat down on the edge of the bed.
Without thinking much, he first made quick work of her shirt that she was so adamant to get off. It was rather bizarre, working it over the padding of her pregnancy suit, and then he lifted her up slightly to pull the shirt over her head and off her arms. Immediately, he noticed that there was a burn mark of approximately the same size on each of her arms that started forming watery blisters. Next he pulled off her jeans and found a few more burns scattered over her legs, luckily not quite as big. Then he glanced at her, lying in front of him in that padded suit.
Mac didn't know what she was feeling any longer. It seemed her emotions were all over the place; one minute she was weepy, the next in terror, and now she was a little warm and flushed, and felt like laughing. His look directed at her fake pregnant belly was just priceless.
"You know, of all the moments I imagined you undressing me, I'd never thought it'd be like this," she winked at him.
For a moment, Harm was speechless. She just admitted that she had thought of him undressing her; it felt like all his dreams were coming true, and more. Now was not the time though. He chose to adapt to her teasing tone instead, before things would turn truly awkward.
"It certainly is a challenge," he chuckled, poking his index finger into the soft padding. "Now how does it come off?"
"The straps are on the back," Mac informed, and Harm carefully turned her to her side to unsnap the suit.
"I should warn you though," she mumbled into her pillow, "I'm not wearing anything underneath." Just as quickly, she found herself on her back again, the suit still closed, Harm staring at her. His look said it all.
"Harm, it's okay," she whispered, holding onto his eyes with hers, "I trust you. Implicitly."
She nodded softly, and Harm took a deep breath, then turned her over to her side once more. Carefully, he unsnapped the suit and then took it off, laying her onto her back again in the process.
He turned to grab the moist washcloth, then began cleaning her. Looking only at her face, he swiped the cloth over her forehead, her cheeks, her ears, her chin, while he took care to only dab over the chaps and scratches.
He rinsed the cloth, then continued down her neck and over her shoulders. He worked in absolute concentration, giving attention only to the parts of skin he was washing, ever so careful not to hurt her in the process.
She was sure that peripherally, he was well aware of her nakedness, yet he was adamant not to look; not that she cared much at this point, but she loved him for it nevertheless. Mac thought she was going to melt; she still didn't feel well yet his wonderful attentiveness made everything more bearable. Nobody had ever been so tender and thoughtful with her.
Her arms were next. He washed first one, then the other. She couldn't help but wince when he reached the burnt skin, even though he barely touched it, so careful was his dabbing. Next, he applied some rusty-colored cream to one of the burns. "Iodine ointment," he explained at her questioning look, then wrapped a bandage around it, before he treated her other arm the same way.
Taking a deep breath, Harm picked up the washcloth again, not quite sure he was ready for what came next. Her complete and utter trust in him was humbling, yet he had never been this close to her and it scrambled his mind. He told himself to get a grip, and began washing her torso. He swirled the washcloth across her collarbones, then over her breasts, down her sides, and to her stomach. She was watching his every move intensely, and Harm felt his face flush. With utter relief he noted that at least she was wearing panties, and then he turned her onto her side once more to clean her back.
Mac was getting really tired again. She wanted to stay awake, wanted to watch as Harm worked, who had now reached her legs, but she felt like she was floating and it seemed impossible to keep her eyes open. She felt heavy and limp, and very exhausted, physically and emotionally. She tried, but couldn't stop her eyes from slowly falling close.
By the time Harm had reached her feet and had tended to the smaller burns on her legs, Mac was fast asleep. She didn't even wake up when he worked one of his t-shirts over her head and arms. He covered her with a blanket, then went to the bathroom himself, before settling on the other side of the bed, his back against the headboard, to watch her sleep.
TBC
