As always – thanks for dropping by to share this journey with me.

Rabb Residence
June 17, 2010

It had been just over six weeks since the tragedy of losing Audrey and Mac's extremely necessary hysterectomy. Harm had taken a leave of absence from work to spend his time at home taking care of Mac and Caroline.

Trish and Frank flew out as soon as they learned what had happened and offered to stay as long as necessary. If it were up to Harm, he would have let them stay forever. He was a grown man, a lawyer, an aviator, and an admiral in the United States Navy, but there was still something so comforting about having your mother nearby during a crisis. Mac, however, didn't particularly share his sentiments, and Harm ultimately told his mother and stepfather that the week they stayed was plenty and he and Mac need time to be on their own. Reluctantly, Trish and Frank returned to La Jolla with a reminder that they were only a flight away if they needed them to return.

Mattie came for a weekend to be close to them and spend time with Caroline before she returned to school to focus on her finals. Harm knew it was hard on her – no matter how brave of an act she tried to put on for them.

Caroline was too young to truly grasp the concept of death - almost every day she asked where the baby was and why it wasn't in her mommy's belly anymore, then followed with "Why can't I play with Audrey like Ellie plays with her brother?"

It was a question that broke his heart every time her sweet little voice asked and for as painful as it was for him, he knew that the emotional impact of the question was even more profound on Mac – the way her eyes would turn dark and her lips would purse together as she avoided answering Caroline's question did not go unnoticed to him.

Harriet and Bud had been a godsend throughout the entire ordeal; stopping over often to help in any way they could – dropping off groceries or taking Caroline to run around at the park – the little, mundane everyday things that had become a struggle in the Rabb household lately. Yet they still managed to keep their distance enough that they didn't come off as overbearing. Harm thought that Bud and Harriet knew how to help and give space in best ways possible because they too had lived through a similar situation.

Their fifth anniversary also came and went without either one of them in any mood to celebrate or acknowledge it. Harm didn't even order roses for Mac this year because all she did was complain about colleagues and friends sending them flowers after Audrey's passing. He figured it was better to skip flowers altogether this year. He did make her breakfast in bed, but considering she was spending much of her time in bed that week already, that didn't seem special either. When Harm really thought back to that day, he couldn't even remember if either one of them verbally acknowledged it was the anniversary to the other one at all.

Harm walked up the stairs slowly and approached the master bedroom. The door was closed. "Mac?" he called softly as he opened the door. "You okay?"

Mac was curled up on the bed, her back facing the door. He knew that she was staring at the tiny urn on the dresser that held Audrey's ashes. The only light on in the room came from the dimly lit lamp on her nightstand. "Fine," she mumbled, rolling her eyes even though he couldn't see her do it. He had asked her that question literally thousands of times over the last six weeks and she was tired of it. She didn't even know how to define "okay" anymore.

"Caroline wants to sleepover Bud and Harriet's tonight. I said she could, that isn't a problem, is it? Harriet said they have plenty of pajamas and clothes at their house, so she's all set for the night and Bud will drop her off in the morning on his way to work."

"Whatever."

Harm took a deep breath and sat on the edge of the bed. As soon as he sat down, Mac scooted further away from him.

"Talk to me, Mac."

"I don't have anything to say, Harm," she said curtly. "Leave me alone."

"We've barely said three sentences to each other at a time since..." he trailed off, unsure how to word what had happened. "I miss her too, Mac." He added softly.

"I miss her so much that it hurts. Everything hurts. It's a physical pain – I swear. I thought the psychological pain of Paraguay and Sadik was bad... but this... it's unlike any pain I've ever felt in my entire life."

"I know, but that won't bring her back." The words escaped his lips before he could phrase his response any differently and he silently cursed himself for what he said and how he said it. Grief was an emotion that caused him to say the wrong words.

"You don't need to remind me of that fact."

Mac sniffled, and Harm leaned over to comfort her.

"Don't touch me."

He pulled his hand away quickly as if he had been burned. "I'm sorry, Mac." He apologized, standing up from the bed.

Feeling his weight leave the bed, Mac felt more inclined to roll over and face him since they were no longer at such a close proximity.

"This isn't easy for me, you know."

Harm resisted the urge to scoff. "It's not easy for either one of us." He tried to use his "lawyer voice" and keep his tone steady even though he was getting frustrated with Mac's tone lately.

Mac got out of bed and began pacing the room, being sure to keep the bed between her and Harm. It was symbolic - a barrier between them in her mind. "It's not fair! And I know life is never fair, and I know that I've had my share of shit luck over the years, but damn it, Harm. Audrey didn't do anything wrong. She should still be here. I should tell be pregnant today, I should still be able to feel her move around, but I don't. I feel nothing. She's dead, and I just feel empty." Mac spat out angrily.

"You're right. It's not fair." He said, unsure of the best way to comfort Mac at the moment. Hell, he barely knew how to comfort himself over the loss of their child. Luckily, he had Bud and Harriet to turn to in his times of desperation- he didn't know if Mac talked to Harriet about it, but he tried to drop hints that she should. "There isn't an easy way to cope with this, Mac. It's going to be hard, complicated and messy."

"I think," she began slowly, "I think maybe it is time for you to go back to work." Her voice was voice was distant and cold, void of any real emotion.

"I'm not so sure that's a good idea."

"You're home all day, and I'm being smothered. This obviously isn't working. We're...broken."

Harm tried his best to keep his tone even, but his voice rose slightly. "I'm here to help you because I love you, because I'm your husband, because it's what I am supposed to do."

"It's what you're supposed to do?" She repeated, her own voice rising. "How very noble of you, Admiral Rabb."

"That's not how I meant that and you know it." He cursed himself again for slipping back into their old ways, where communication was strained and no matter how hard he tried to say the right thing, he would always say the wrong words.

"Well, I'm not a mind reader," she shot back.

"You are supposed to be resting and recovering, how can you do that if you have to chase Caroline around all day? Especially when you haven't even been spending all that much time with her lately."

"Oh, so now I am a bad mother, too?"

"Mac! You may not be a minder reader, but you sure are twisting my words."

She ignored him. "Sometimes, it's hard for me to spend time with Caroline. How many times can I answer her questions and explain to her that her baby sister lives in heaven? I can't even answer the question anymore. I just can't do it."

"She's three and a half years old, Mac. She doesn't understand this at all. I've explained it the best I could, and she hasn't said anything about Audrey in a week. All she knows is that Mommy needs to rest and that's why she's not able to play with her and that sometimes babies go to heaven instead of coming home to live with their family."

Tears stung at Mac's eyes, knowing that Caroline would probably never remember this in a few years. Suddenly, she felt guilty that she had wished Caroline would stop asking about Audrey. "Well, there's a daycare at the Pentagon...you can take her there while you work if you think I can't take care of her or until the doctor clears me to lift her. Whatever makes you happy."

The silence hung heavy between them.

"I don't know what you want, Mac," Harm finally said. "What is that you want from me?"

"I...I don't know what I want. I don't know who we are anymore...where we stand. I just don't know."

Harm took a step forward towards the door and then paused, recalling how she once said something eerily similar to that to him so long ago. "The last time you said something like that to me you ended things with Webb." He still didn't turn around to look at her. "You said the minute you start dissecting a relationship the damn thing is dead." He slowly turned around to face her. "Is that truly where you think we are, Mac?"

"And as I recall, you walked away." She said, avoiding his question.

"Damn it, Mac. That's not how it happened and you know it. I walked away because you weren't ready yet, and maybe that was a mistake then. But what did you want me to do? Force you to talk about something that you didn't want to talk about? No matter what I did, it would have been wrong. You didn't stop me, either." He pointed out.

"The hypocrisy of this situation astounds me."

"You can't compare these two situations!"

Mac shrugged.

"Mac-"

"Maybe we need a break, Harm." She spat out angrily, interrupting whatever it was that he was going to say.

"From our marriage?" His eyes grew wide, his expression both hurt and insulted.

"What else would I be talking about?" she answered, sarcastically. "We haven't worked together in years," she added, bitterly.

"No," he said firmly. "Absolutely not."

"Maybe it's the only way to fix this."

He shook his head. "No... that's reverting to how we were years ago. Running away from problems, not communicating, running away from each other. We are not starting that again, Mac. Absolutely not. We're stronger than that." Visions of the past flashed through his mind in short bursts – all the times they ran away from each other instead of confronting the issue in front of them – the two most notable being him leaving things between them up in the air when he went back to the life on a carrier and when she ran off to the other side of the world after things ended with Brumby.

She ran her fingers through her hair and let out a frustrated sigh. "I just need space, Harm. I'm used to being on my own."

"You can't use that excuse anymore, Mac. We are a family. You are never going to be alone again."

Mac didn't say anything, and turned away so she didn't have to face him anymore - the look in his eyes was too painful, but she couldn't stop the words that were coming out of her mouth. "You're being a hypocrite, you know. You just said that you weren't going to stay all those years ago and force me to talk about something that I didn't want to talk about and now, here we are and you are obviously trying to make me talk about something that I do not want to talk about."

Her words struck a chord and he took a step backwards. He wanted to talk, yell or scram about all of this, but he could never force her to do anything she didn't want to do – he just couldn't. "Fine. You win this time, Mac." He grabbed his pillow off of the bed. "You want space, you can have it, but I'm not leaving this house. We're not running away from...this. When something is wrong, we fix it, and we can't fix it if we aren't even in the same house. I'll be in the guest room." He pulled open the bedroom door and stepped in the hallway slamming the door behind him.

Mac cringed at the sound of the door slamming. They had their shares of explosives fights when they were partners, but this one was different, and she feared that it was all her fault. She felt like she failed as a wife and a mother, and how do you explain that to your husband who is also your best friend?

She knew that she didn't actually want a divorce – she knew she was sad, depressed, and hormonal. Those emotions and feelings weren't new to her by any means, but they weren't something she was able to cope with well. She assumed she was letting this anger pour out because that was one emotion that she was able to express well and in some twisted way it was comforting to her.

Vaguely she could recall from the back of her mind something Harriet said to her when she was still in the hospital. "You don't ever get over losing a child...you just end up adapting to your life and that becomes your new normal."

She crawled into bed, clutching the pillow to her chest as she cried silently, knowing that it would be a long night of tossing, turning, and nightmares with very, very little sleep.

This was her new normal.