Disclaimer: Not mine

Later that morning, Mac was discharged and the trip home was quite subdued. While she had spent the majority of her nights at Harm's recently, it was clear he was driving her back to her own place and she had to wonder what it meant.
After he noticed she'd glanced at him and tried to talk a couple of times, Harm took the lead.
"The doctor ordered lots of rest for you and I figured you'd be more comfortable in your own bed," he said, reaching across and taking her hand.
"Oh, okay," she said, understanding his intent but not the situation. After all, he knew she was more than comfortable in his bed, his loft. Quietly, she retracted her hand.
Realising there was something amiss; Harm pulled over and put the car into park.

Gently, he reached across and picked up her hand once more.
"Talk," he said, using his thumb to rub circles on the back of her hand. Mac shrugged not knowing how to give voice to her feelings. "Are you unhappy with me?" Harm asked, tilting his head to maintain eye contact with her. Mac shrugged once more. "Mac?"
"Not really," she said shakily.
"What's wrong, gorgeous?" he asked when he saw her eyes fill with tears.
"You're taking me home," she said and Harm nodded.
"That's what you wanted," he replied. "You asked the nurse four times."
"I know," she said.
"So now you don't want to go home?" he questioned becoming confused.
"I do," she confirmed.
"And we're going home to your place," he said, not understanding the problem.
"That's it," she said and Harm had to wonder what 'it' was.
"Mac, honey, I'm confused," he said, caressing her face. "Can you please explain the problem to me?"
"Home, for most of the last few months, has been your place...now it's mine...just had to wonder if maybe you didn't..." she said quietly.
"Sweetheart," Harm interrupted. "Don't even finish that thought. I will always want you in my home...to share a home with you...I'm bringing you here because you'll be more comfortable in your bed."
"I've been pretty comfortable in your bed," she said with a shy smile.
"So have I," he confirmed, kissing her cheek. "But right now, my bed doesn't have a mattress. I ordered a new one yesterday and it will be delivered Monday or Tuesday."

Mac's brow furrowed: a new mattress? They hadn't discussed that. Then it dawned on her.
"Oh, Harm, I'm sorry," she said quickly, squeezing his hand. "I ruined your mattress."
"It's okay," he said, raking his fingers through her hair. "It wasn't your fault."
"Let me pay you for it," she said, grabbing her purse.
"You're not paying for it," Harm said firmly, placing his hand over her purse. "No," he reinforced as she tried to move his hand. "You are not...I repeat NOT paying for a new mattress."
"I ruined it," she said tearfully. "It's the least I can do. "
"Mac, the mattress is ten years old, it was on its way out anyway...there were a couple of loose springs and ..." he started before a broad grin spread across his face. "Actually, I think it was all our horizontal activity that ruined it."

Despite everything, Mac managed to smile. She had to concede that perhaps their nocturnal exploits had done more damage than her early morning 'accident'.

By Saturday morning, Mac was feeling restless. Having done nothing since returning from hospital three days earlier, she needed to do something more than veg out on the sofa or nap in bed. Coming from the kitchen, she had to smile at Harm's attempt to dust her archaeological artefacts.
"Any chance we can go for a short walk?" Mac asked, snaking an arm around his waist.
"How short a walk?" he asked, turning in her arms.
"Just a little one...or maybe just a little walk and sit in the park...I just need some fresh air...a change of scenery," she said, throwing in the puppy eyed look for extra effect.
"What if we go to Langford's for lunch and sit out in their garden area?" Harm suggested. "Best of both worlds."
Mac nodded happily. Langford's made the best ever roast pork with crackling and even though she hadn't regained her appetite she was sure she could manage that, if nothing else.

Lunch was a great success and Harm smiled every time Mac ate something. Watching her carefully, he'd noticed she'd eaten nearly nothing since recovering from her surgery and he had been quite concerned that her non-eating was emotional, rather than physical. However, watching her enjoy the pork on her plate he was happy; even though he wasn't impressed that she didn't touch the vegetables.

Fresh air, good food, a little physical activity and Mac was exhausted when they returned to her apartment a little after two. Falling asleep on the sofa, after protesting she wasn't all that tired, Mac slept for three and a half hours. Occupying himself with paperwork in his briefcase and some time on the internet, Harm kept one eye on Mac, moving towards her every time her movement caused her to moan in pain. When he'd realised she was still asleep, he would return to whatever he was doing, his focus still on her though.

After hitting Google and visiting ten different sites on ectopic pregnancies, Harm found a forum which was more support than medical. Creating the pseudonym 'cammarh', their names together spelt backwards, Harm signed up and posted the question which had been on his mind since the trauma of Tuesday; 'What can I do to help take away the pain I see in my fianceé's eyes caused by our ectopic pregnancy this week?' Hitting 'post' Harm sat back and took a deep breath; he knew there was no quick or easy fix, no simple answers, no magic wand but right now he'd give anything for someone to tell him how he could help Mac...and himself.

Not expecting answers quickly, Harm added the site to favourites before shutting down his laptop as Mac stirred once more. Realising she was waking this time, Harm was quickly by her side, caressing her face as she burst into tears.
"Sssh, sssh, sssh," he soothed, kneeling down and trying to comfort her. "Mac, honey, ssh. What is it?"

Anything Mac wanted to say was lost in heartbreaking sobs as she pulled Harm to her and held on for dear life. For all Harm's caresses and kisses, Mac found it hard to calm herself and the problems caused by not getting enough oxygen was making matters worse.
"Mac, come on, honey, please?" Harm begged, his face wet with his own tears. "You're going to make yourself sick, please stop. You have to breathe, gorgeous, please...breathe for me."

Soon Mac was breathing in short sharp breaths as Harm held her close and rubbed her back.
"That's it," he soothed. "Just breathe...that's it...ssssh."

Seventeen painful minutes later, Mac was composed enough to allow Harm to shift from his kneeling position to sitting beside her so she could curl up with him. Brushing the hair from her damp face, Harm kissed her head and pulled her against him, muttering as many soothing words and sounds as he could think of.
"You're okay, honey," he soothed as she slumped against him exhausted. "You're doing okay."
"I'm okay," Mac finally managed and Harm allowed himself to breath.
"Yeah, you're okay," he said, closing his eyes as he rested his head against hers.

For a while they let the silence wash over them as both tried to regroup. Eventually, Mac broke the silence.
"Sorry," she whispered, playing with the collar of his tee. "I know you didn't sign up for 'psycho mess'."
Harm kissed her head. "I don't think you're a psycho mess," he said kissing her once more. "I think you are devastated by the ectopic pregnancy and all it means and you have every right to be."
"I should be able to keep it together better," she protested, pulling on his shirt.
"Why should you?" he countered.
"I'm a marine," she said defiantly. "I should..."
"You're also a woman," he said gently.
"A woman who can't have a baby...doesn't make me much of a woman..." she said as tears fell once more.
"Mac," he whispered, before kissing her head and trying to buy himself some time. "You are the most amazing woman I know..."
"Who can't have a baby," she interrupted dropping her head against his chest.
"You don't know that, gorgeous," he said gently.
"I do," she said defiantly. "I couldn't have this baby."
"No, you couldn't," he agreed, after all, there was no other reply. "But these things happen..."
"Yeah, to me," she grumbled.
"To us," he corrected and his tone caused Mac to finally look up at him, "It may have been your body, Mac, but this happened to us...we made this baby and we lost this baby..."
"Sorry," she said as her lower lip trembled.
"So am I," he replied, kissing her tenderly. "But that doesn't mean we won't ever have a baby. Just that this one wasn't meant to be."

Mac nodded and slumped against him, her eyes closed. When did life get so damned hard?

By Sunday evening Mac seemed in better spirits and, although he was still reluctant, Harm returned to work on Monday morning. Several check in calls were made through the day but it was uneventful. Tuesday was pretty much the same. Wednesday, Mac awoke while Harm was showering for the day. As she lay there, curled into their pillows, her mind drifted back to the dream she'd just experienced. It had been a beautiful and happy dream; Harm, Mac and their little girl, Hannah, who was the image of her father,were at a huge playground. Being the only ones there, they were able to run, climb and slide on whatever they wanted. It had all been laughs and smiles; an ordinary family having an extraordinary day of fun. That was, of course, until Mac awoke and realised the painful reality – there was no little girl, not anymore, and that thought broke her heart.

With tears flowing freely and sobs muffled by her pillow, Mac pulled the covers up and tried to hide herself from Harm. Hearing the bathroom door open, she tried to control her breathing and stayed as still as possible. For a while, Harm's attention was on dressing but then he caught the reflection of the lump under the covers in the mirror.

Turning around, he watched as the quilt covered lump shook and shuddered intermittently. Padding around the bed, Harm tried to get a look at Mac's face without touching the quilt but it was a futile task.

Reaching across, he gently peeled the covers back and revealed enough of Mac's face to realise she was in distress. With her eyes still shut but her breathing erratic, Harm didn't know whether she was playing possum or asleep and having a bad dream. Quickly conceding it didn't matter as either way she was upset, Harm ran his fingers through her hair and leant over to kiss her head.
"Mac, honey, are you okay?" he asked, rubbing her back. "Mac?"
She didn't respond.
"Come on, honey, can you look at me?" he asked, not too sure if she was still sleeping. Gently he shook her. "Mac?"

To play the part, Mac 'awoke' as startled as she could muster.
"Oh, oh, Harm, what's wrong?" she asked, looking up at him.
"Nothing's wrong with me, gorgeous, but you seem quite upset," he said gently, sitting on the bed facing her.
Mac scrunched her face up in thought. "Bad dream," she stated as she sat up.
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tightly.
'Don't really remember it," she lied, slumping into him and relishing the warmth and comfort his presence brought her.
"You're still trembling," he whispered as he kissed her head.
"I'm okay," she said, closing her eyes and willing her tears away; she just had to pull herself together until he left for work.
"I'd give anything to be able to stay home and hold you all day," Harm said, reluctant to let her go and prepare for work.
"I'd give anything for that too," Mac agreed, and she genuinely would.
"But I have a meeting I really can't afford to change," he said sadly.
"It's okay," she said, pulling back slightly. "It was only a dream and as much as I would like you to stay with me, I don't need you too. I'll be fine."

And fine she was, for a while. After Harm had gone to work, and Mac had eaten breakfast and showered, she sat on the sofa with the remote. While the dream was still crystal clear in her heart and mind, she had pushed it aside and tried to get on with things. Flicking on the television, she watched a segment of the news before they went to a commercial...a commercial which starred the most gorgeous two year old girl with curly brown hair advertising some new toy. Mac's heart nearly stopped – the child was nearly a match for the one in her dreams. Quickly she turned the television off as tears cascaded down her cheeks.

Realising she may need a little more help in dealing with her emotions than she thought, Mac grabbed her cell and called Commander McCool's office, hoping to speak to the doctor herself. After being told the doctor was with a patient but would be able to call Mac at the end of the consultation, Mac hung up feeling a little better. That lasted until the doctor actually called her and the pain and misery of all her thoughts spilt out in a rambling, tearful mess. First, there was the emotional pain of the ectopic pregnancy, then there was the pain at what it meant for the future, about lost opportunities, about losing hope. Next came the hurting caused by the dream and how it had all seemed so real and the deep sting when she realised it was all a dream...

Dr McCool listened intently and tried to piece together all Mac's tearful ramblings into some cohesive story. Trying to advise Mac to breathe and try and relax, she was highly concerned when the line went dead. Technically, the disconnection wasn't Mac's fault, her cell battery had died and she dropped the cell to the sofa. Deciding she needed to clear head, pull herself together, and show the world she was made of sterner stuff, Mac pulled on her trainers. As she did the home phone rang and she answered it; it was Dr McCool.

Not wanting to be a basket case anymore, Mac politely thanked Dr McCool for her concern and apologised for her tearful breakdown before agreeing to arrange an in clinic appointment and disconnecting, leaving Dr McCool uneasy as to Mac's complete change in mood in the space of six minutes.

Wanting to be in control of herself and get out of the haze she was living in, Mac decided to visit Harriet's, hoping that some girl talk would help her, grabbing the house keys and some cash, Mac went downstairs and hailed a cab. Meanwhile, Dr McCool, concerned with the state Mac was in, called Harm's cell but could only leave a message. When Harm had finished his meeting and had checked his phone, he was alarmed with the message he heard and the urgency at which Dr McCool had insisted he return her call.

His alarm escalated dramatically after speaking to the doctor herself and immediately upon disconnecting that call he called Mac's cell but got the 'turned off /not in range' message. Dialling the home phone number, Harm's hand was shaking; such was his anxiety over the situation he found himself. When she didn't pick up he spoke to her, knowing she would hear him if she was anywhere nearby.

"Mac, pick up the phone...please, Mac...talk to me," he said, trying to keep his voice even. "Gorgeous, I just need to know you're alright...Dr McCool called me...Mac?"

Realising he wasn't going to get a response, Harm presented himself to his CO, explained the situation and was given permission to secure for the day and left with Cresswell's concern and best wishes.

The dash to Mac's apartment was the longest in his life. After breaking all sorts of road laws, Harm haphazardly parked his car in a bay at the front of Mac's building and raced up the stairs three at a time. By the time he got to the door his heart was threatening to burst through his chest and his breathing was severely laboured. Pressing one hand against the wall as he leant on it, Harm tried to compose himself. The last thing Mac needed was for him to burst into the apartment in the state he was in.

Counting down from ten, Harm drew in deep breaths and calmed himself. When composed, he unlocked the door and entered. A quick scan showed Mac wasn't to be seen, running through the living room, he checked the bedroom, bathroom and then the kitchen; his heart pounding once more as he did.
"Mac?" he called out, giving up on the calm approach. "Mac! Where the hell are you?"

Coming back into the living room, Harm scanned the room once more before trying her cell and getting the same message. Taking a more detailed look around the place he tried to calm his nerves and figure out where she'd gone and in what state she was in when she had done it. Seeing her purse, car keys and cell sitting on or by the armchair Harm was even more concerned. She hadn't taken anything with her, she'd just walked out. Was she taking a walk or run? Had she runaway? Had things become too much? Had...had...he couldn't think beyond that point.

Meanwhile, Mac was sitting in the living room with Harriet at the Roberts', both with big mugs of hot chocolate with marshmallows and a plate of triple choc cookies – Harriet's favourite comfort food combo. The conversation was light and while Harriet knew her friend had a lot on her mind, she didn't push it. One of the benefits of a good friend when you are down is that they don't expect you to be full of fun and energy. Additionally, the bonus with Harriet's comfort food combo is that it lives up to it's comforting name and not long after the mug was drained, Mac was slumped in the corner of the sofa sound asleep.

Smiling to herself, Harriet picked up a throw rug and covered her friend before collecting the empty plates and mugs and heading to the kitchen. Checking the time, Harriet decided to call Bud to see how his day was going and was surprised to learn of Harm's abrupt departure from work about an hour earlier.. While Bud didn't know the details, it didn't take a genius to realise it would have been about Mac. Disconnecting the call to her husband, Harriet quickly phone Harm's cell and found him at his loft, his search for Mac having taken him there...just in case.
"Harm, Mac's with me," she said quietly, peering into the living room to check on the woman in question. "And she's fine."
"She's what? Really?" he said stopping dead in his tracks. "She's with you?"
"She is and has been so for nearly an hour," Harriet reported.
"And she's alright?" Harm checked, leaning on the back of the armchair and allowing himself to breathe. He would never admit it to Mac but he was thinking all sorts of things; none of them nice.
"She's asleep at the moment," she said, "She was a little teary when she got here but we've had a chat, some hot chocolate and cookies and she fell asleep. Bud said you left in a hurry."
"Dr McCool called me concerned about Mac's state of mind and I couldn't contact her..." Harm said, grabbing his keys once more and heading back out the door. "I raced home and...well, you can imagine how I felt not finding her there..."
"Come on over and see for yourself," Harriet said, knowing he wouldn't relax until he had seen her for himself.
"I'm already on my way."