Chapter 10 - Cold
"When you hide, hide inside that body
But just remember that when I touch you
The more you shake, the more you give away"
"Cold (But, I'm still here)" By Evans Blue.
Mac sat on the large windowsill glancing down at the streets below. She far away at the other end of the loft. Far away from the Commander. She was trying to keep as much space as possible between them. It wasn't that she was afraid of The Commander but, she didn't feel it pertinent to be anywhere near him. The blasted headaches had died to a more manageable level the farther away she remained.
For some godforsaken reason her curiosity had piqued when she barely noticed the steady rise and fall of his chest. His breathing had slowed down some, well, too much really. With a huff she hopped off the sill and slowly made her way over to the bed.
The Commander wasn't breathing and when Mac pressed two fingers to his neck she barely found a pulse. Uncovering his body Mac saw blood leaking out of the wound and soaking into the stark white sheets beneath him. And here she thought that her sewing skills were adequate which was clearly not the case. With a frown, she covered his torso again and sat at the edge of the bed just watching him.
She likely should have called someone for help but, found no inclination to do so. Instead Mac stood beside him watching as his body gave up the fight. It eased her anxiety, took the weight of her shoulders and began to right everything that had gone wrong since they met. She felt the headache ease and dissipate as The Commander died.
Something inside considered the possibility of remorse but, Mac couldn't quite bring herself to care. She should have killed him herself in that alley or left him for dead - either option bringing a satisfied smile to her lips. With his death she was free…
...Mac instantly sprung up from her position on the sofa and from a nightmare that jarred her awake. She raced across the loft, reaching the bathroom where she emptied the contents of her stomach into the toilet until there was nothing left but dry heaves. Her body shook as she righted herself and grabbed the sides of the sink for support as another wave of nausea threatened.
Her eyes came up to the mirror and a reflection of a woman that she once was, not whatever she had become. Tear stained brown eyes stared back accusingly. "Oh God. What have I done?" The veil on her mind had slipped just enough for her to feel some sort of concern for The Commander.
The Commander. He had a name didn't he? Well, of course, everyone had a name but, she couldn't recall his. Her mind began to push forward images that didn't make sense. Visions that she couldn't associate with The Commander and yet, felt so real.
He was cleaning a wound on her leg, wrapping gauze around it with such a gentle touch for a man. The vision had to be real, Mac had seen the ugly scar on her right thigh, she could feel when he touched her and cared for her. There was a vision of a dessert, a cold night and the same Commander using his body heat to keep her warm.
Then there was another image, one of him pulling her towards him as his lips crashing into hers. His hands slipping under his sports jacket that she wore to keep warm and running up and down her spine, pressing her against him. It was as if her were branding her, claiming her as his.
And he had claimed her. No man kisses a woman like that without wanting all of her. Mac pressed her fingers to her lips and closed her eyes. She could feel his demanding kiss, one that made her moan involuntarily until she kissed him back. It was over way too soon and Mac recalled a pang of regret. "It isn't real. That never happened." It wasn't real, it couldn't be. When she stared at her reflection again the headache began to pound so hard it nearly made her pass out.
'There will never be an us.' She closed her eyes and began reciting her mantra again.
The headache began stronger than ever thumping hard as all of the psychological tricks were starting to fail her. "No, Goddamnit! Snap to, Marine!" She felt something warm and sticky slide out of her left nostril. When Mac opened her eyes she saw the blood dripping down her nose and into the sink. 'There will never be an us.'
She recalled bumping into him at the warehouse and the way her skin tingled as he held her shoulders. That wasn't a vision, it had been real. Her skin was still tingling now and not even rubbing her hands up and down her arms could stop the sensation. But, Mac didn't want this. She didn't want to feel, didn't want to need. Why him? Why now?
Dr. Gutierrez had warned her about an onslaught of this magnitude but, Mac couldn't remember the tools needed to thwart the attack. She relied on her mantra reciting it over and over on a loop.
'There will never be an us.' 'There will never be an us.' 'There will never be an us.' 'There will never be an us.' 'There will never be an us.'
It helped, somewhat but Mac realized the key was to get The Commander back to Washington the moment he woke. The Commander had no business being in Toronto. The Commander would only bring her trouble which was evident at how things unfolded that evening. She took a washcloth, wet it and began to clean up her blood. "Mac?"
Through the mirror she caught The Commander's reflection. His skin had an almost ashen pallor, his hair was disheveled and his eyes had turned some sort of blueish gray. He had a hand pressed to his left flank and winced when he moved towards her out of concern that Mac was hurt.
"Don't you dare touch me, Commander!" She took a defensive stance, hands coming up in preparation to fight him if he got any closer. Her hands shook as she balled them into fists, short nails digging into her palms.
It had taken Harm something of a Herculean effort to get out of her bed. His body ached and she had attached an IV drip into his vein that he had yanked out in order to be mobile. He needed to use the head and was surprised to find Mac staring at her reflection with a rag trying to clean off the blood from her nose. His need to relieve himself disappeared when he saw the blood.
"Mac, you're bleeding." He managed to say as a sudden dizzy spell had him leaning against the wall.
Instinctively, Mac reached out to steady him only to have Harm slump against her. The physical contact was jarring but she somehow managed to put him back into her bed. "You're going to hurt yourself, Commander." She chastised while trying to find another vein to plunge the IV needle into once he was settled.
"My name… is Harm." He told her grabbing the hand that was fiddling with his vein before passing out again.
"What the hell is he doing here?" Jack Keeter was not the kind of man that shocked easily and yet seeing Harm and Mac in the same room together was both shocking and surreal. He didn't really think they'd see each other again and yet, there they were. The more things changed, the more they stayed the same. "Mac? What is wrong with him?"
Mac didn't answer, simply worked on securing the IV and not damaging The Commander's veins. "What the hell happened tonight, Jack?"
"I don't know. We lost you on the way to the club, got there when the shoot out started. Our boys are dead, Mac. Both were shot." He said solemnly. They had been a four person team and now they were down to just the two of them - Jack was still trying to piece together the reason. "If you had a wire on we…"
"It wouldn't have done shit." She was now checking Harm's wound finding the bleeding had stopped. Whatever sewing she'd done to seal the wound was messy, jagged but, it held. He would always have that scar. She shrugged at her handiwork and pulled a sheet over his torso to keep him comfortable. "Chad didn't exactly tell me his next move… Who were those men?"
"They were after him, that much we know."
"Could have deduced that myself… Why?" She moved away from Harm and headed back to her perch at the window, sighing deeply when the headaches began to fade again.
"I don't know, I have my guy in the Toronto PD checking some leads." Keeter glanced over at Harm frowning at his friend's complexion. He really did not look well. "Why is he here? What happened?"
Mac sighed annoyed by the questions, "The Commander was at the club. You'd have to ask him why." She motioned towards Harm and then turned away to look out the window. There had been a vehicle circling the block earlier, one that her intuition knew would be of interest. It was gone now and she cursed inwardly.
"Maybe Langley sent him?" Out of curiosity, Keeter pulled back the sheet covering Harm. He was horrified at what he found. "He's shot."
"Nothing gets past you, huh?"
Keeter turned to Mac to find her still staring out the window. Her disinterest in his friend was beginning to worry him. He knew what she had done but, couldn't imagine Mac would be so callused against Harm. "Why didn't you take him to the hospital?" He pressed a hand to Harm's forehead finding his friend to be a tad warm. What concerned him most was the color of his skin.
"Because people would ask questions that I can't answer."
Keeter studied the wound noticing the jagged lines that made up Mac's suture and the angry skin around it. "You did this yourself?" He glanced up to find Mac nodding quietly. "Jesus Christ, Mac! We have people for this, the agency would have take care of him. He could have bled out, died."
Mac shrugged at the last word. Things may be simpler if he never was in his life. "Then it's the Commanders fault for coming here."
His face fell at her words and it fully registered that Mac was much further gone than he initially thought. That's why she had been so interested in sleeping with him, she just didn't care anymore. "God, Mac. You mean that. You want him dead, don't you?" Although he really didn't need an answer. "This isn't you. You joined the agency for him. You'd never let anything hurt Harm."
"I honestly don't care. But, since you're so concerned, the Commander is now your problem." She turned away from the window and moved swiftly through the loft. Mac pulled a small suitcase out of her closet and began to stuff it with various clothing including an extra wig or two. "Have you seen my boots? The one with a bit of heel?" She made it to the edge of the bed, glanced down at Harm and shook her head. "Ah. There they are."
"What are you doing?" He couldn't understand her actions, they seemed wired and out of control when Mac was anything but.
"Getting ready for work. I have an assignment to complete."
"Mac, stop." Keeter made to block her path to the bathroom but, she merely shoved him out of the way, disappeared inside, showered quickly and came out impeccably dressed and with that ridiculous wig. She grabbed the suitcase and wheeled it towards the door. "Where the hell do you think you're going?"
"Company outing, I'm attending like we had planned." At Keeter's incredulous glare, she threw her hands up in exasperation. "This was the plan for months, I'm not going to put it on hold because of some silly little shootout...I'm getting this done so I can get the hell back to a real assignment. No more of this riding a desk bullshit."
"What about Harm?"
She chanced a glance Harm's way and rolled her eyes. "You're so worried? You handle it. Just make sure the Commander is gone when I get back." She grabbed her purse and walked to the door stopping to turn towards Keeter. "I mean it Jack, I'm coming back in a few days… I want him the fuck out of here one way or another." And with that, she was gone.