Title: "I'll Be There" Chapter Nineteen
Author: Macattack102712, aka "Mac Mackenzie"
Publish Date: Original Publish date: August 2002, redone and completed 2017/2018/2019.
Pairing: Harm/Mac
Category: Romance/Angst
Summary: Mac gets devastating news regarding her beloved Uncle Matt. Her JAG family must come together to get her through the hardest trial of her life. In the process, she learns the tremendous gift and power that comes with letting love in.
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1230
Mac's Apartment
Georgetown, VA
A little while later, Mac returned home with a plethora of medications, a sore hip from antibiotic and steroid shots, and an inhaler. Depositing her bag of "goodies" on the table, a curious expression crossed her face when she noticed Harm's uniforms thrown over the back of the lounge chair, and a laundry basket full of his clothes sitting on the floor beside it. "Did you tear up your washer again, flyboy?"
"On the contrary, it runs like a top," Harm countered, playfully throwing a pair of mated socks at her before returning his attention to the dwindling pile of unfolded laundry in front of him. "And if I recall correctly, I have you to thank for that".
A prideful blush crept across her face at his admission. Earlier in the year, Harm's washer had gone on the fritz. Despite two repairmen telling him it couldn't be fixed, meaning he was out money for a new one, Mac had insisted on looking at it. Within a few minutes, she diagnosed the issue and rendered a more palatable verdict. A $50 part, two hours, and a lot of elbow grease later, his washer was successfully repaired.
"Don't thank me, Harm". Mac jerked her head towards where her uncle lay asleep. "Thank him. He's the one who taught me to do a lot of repairs myself. He never wanted me to be taken advantage of just because I'm a woman". She propped her good hip against the arm of the couch to alleviate the weight from her sore side. "So…care to tell me why all your junk is piled on my couch?" She emphasized the last few words with a teasing grin.
"Well…given Matthew's medical situation, and the fact that you are burning the candle at both ends, I decided to move in to help with his care". Knowing she would protest, he immediately came to her side, taking her hands in his. "Mac, he and I already talked this over, and he's completely onboard with it. You have got to have help. I know hospice is coming twice a day, but that's not enough. You have no business lifting and turning him by yourself." She opened her mouth to deny this, but one look from Harm and she knew it would be a futile effort. He'd see right past it.
She shook her head, begging for him to understand. "Harm, it's not going to be pretty…in his final days". She blinked back the tears rapidly pooling in her eyes, her voice dropping low, "it's going to get ugly, and quickly. I don't want you to feel some type of obligation. I don't want you to put your life on hold for us. We'll be fine, I promise".
He lovingly framed her face between his big hands, the cool metal of his academy ring registering against her flushed face. She instinctively reached up to cover his hands with her own. "There is no sense of obligation, Mac, whatsoever. If anything, I consider it one of my greatest honors to be able to do this. And how can you say I'm putting my life on hold when you ARE my life?"
She searched his eyes for any indication of pity. So many people had entered her life, yet disappeared when things got tough, when she needed more than what she could give. Would he be any different? Would he regret his offer when the nights turned stormy and the darkness grew longer each day? Matthew was not even his own flesh and blood. And in some people's eyes, not worth the effort given his dishonorable discharge and subsequent incarceration. She had to know. He had to know what he was signing up for: the bad, the ugly, and the uglier.
"Are you sure about this, Harm?" Her voice soft and urging. "Think long and hard".
"I've given it five seconds of thought, which is five seconds too long". He rubbed his thumb over her cheekbone. "Sarah, I'm in this for the long haul. One hundred and ten percent".
She held his gaze for several long minutes, her heart and mind at war. He refused to back down, and she could see the determination blazing in his eyes. She recalled their trip to Russia in the search for his father, when he'd told her that she'd come farther with him than anyone else, and that he would never forget that. She had been more than willing to walk thru the fire with him. Had bene willing to walk thru the fire for him. The search to find out what happened to Harm, Sr, had been almost his undoing, and in a sense, Matthew's terminal illness was almost hers. With as much ferocity as she'd presented at the train station in Russia, now so was he.
Coming to resolution in her own mind, and hearing Matthew beginning to stir in the background, she gave a quiet nod of acquiescence. "Well, let's get your stuff sorted and put away, then. Us Marines like our barracks squared and tight". She sniffled and turned to plant a kiss into his palm. "And I've got a load of horse pills to take".
He felt her forehead, relieved to see she no longer had a fever. "At least your fever's gone down".
"Yeah, but now my butt is sore". She coughed, then rubbed her tender hip where the injection had been administered. "I feel like I just traded one pain for another".
"Well," he turned her around, so he could get a look at her denim covered bottom, "I happen to think it's an awfully cute one".
She blushed furiously, thankful, for once, that her lingering cough disguised her lack of a comeback.
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0900 MT
Thanksgiving Day
Mac's Apartment
Georgetown, VA
The morning had started off rather well for a change; Matthew had been able to rest some during the night, and for once, he was more awake and alert than usual. She was grateful for these moments, albeit short. He was getting weaker by the day, his stamina all but gone, and his periods of wakefulness were becoming more sporadic. As part of their morning routine, Mac was snuggled against his side, her head resting against his shoulder, arm draped over his torso to grasp his bony fingers in her hand. This morning, Thanksgiving morning, as a matter of fact, they were watching the annual Macy's Thanksgiving Parade, and they occasionally commented on the passing floats, dancers, singers.
Just as she made to comment on the latest performance by a high school marching band, her doorbell rang. A curious expression crossed Mac's face just as Harm emerged from the kitchen where he'd been putting away dishtowels. He waved away her motion to vacate the bed to answer the door.
"Keep your seat, Mac, I've got it".
He checked the peephole, then unlatched the door, unable to mask the surprise that overtook his face.
Their JAG family stood on the other side, each one carrying a casserole dish or plate.
"Guys, looks we've got company!" he called over his shoulder at the two, stepping aside so they could see who their visitors were.
Little AJ clambered down from Bud's arms and wrapped himself around his godfather's legs.
"Hi ya Unca 'arm!," he squealed, giggling when Harm picked up and gave him a slight toss in the air.
"Hey there little man! I sure didn't expect to see you today!"
AJ wrapped his arms tightly around his neck, squeezing it with as much ferocity as a three-year old could manage. "Mommy said we're cewebwatin Danksgivin wif you n Aun' Mac!"
Harm returned the hug with equal enthusiasm. "Well, I certainly like the sound of that!" He set AJ on his feet, giving an affectionate pat on his bottom as he turned his godson in Mac's direction. "Why don't you go see Aunt Mac? I know she'd love one of your big hugs".
AJ nodded and promptly ran over to Mac, who immediately opened her arms and hauled the preschooler up in her lap. "Hi ya Aun' Mac! I made sumfin for you!" He thrust the clumsily drawn picture into her chest.
"Ohhh, you drew me a picture!?" Mac asked, smoothing out the creases in the slightly crumpled crayon drawing. "I love it when you draw me pictures!"
AJ pointed at the figures in the drawing. "Dat girl wif da dress and meduls is you, and dat big tall guy holdin' da airpwane is Unca 'arm!"
"How pretty!" Mac gushed, tugging AJ closer to her chest and kissing his cheek. "And who's this little boy standing between us?"
AJ giggled. "Dat's me, siwwy! We're at da pawk. See da swings and da swide?"
Mac followed his finger as he pointed on the paper, smiling as he explained each object in the grubby drawing. "The park is one of my favorite places. Uncle Harm and I will have to take you there again soon. Would you like that?"
AJ nodded vigorously. "I wud wove dat, Aun Mac! Will you go down de swide wif me?"
"Of course. But only if you're in the front. I'm too scared to go first". She looked over the top of her godson's head and winked at Harriet.
It was then that AJ noticed Matthew for the first time. He looked at him with a curious expression, then at Mac for explanation as to the identity of the stranger.
"AJ, this is my Uncle Matthew. Matthew, this is my godson, AJ Roberts".
"Very pleased to meet you, young man". Matthew held out his hand, his large one swallowing AJ's. "Boy what a strong grip you have there!" He grinned at Mac. "You may just beat me at arm wrestling".
AJ 'flexed' his muscles, ever the typical precocious three-year old. "I eat spinush wike Popeye! Daddy says I have big muswuls". He pointed towards the bed they were in, regarding Matthew with a sense of innocent, yet solemn curiosity. "Why you in a hospitwul bed? Is you sick?
"AJ!" Harriet admonished, rushing over to collect her curious offspring.
Matthew grinned. "It's quite alright, Harriet". He returned his attention to the little boy who continued to stare with rapt attention. "Yes, I am sick. But Sarah and Harm are taking good care of me".
A confused expression covered his little face. "Who's Sawah?"
Mac laughed softly. "That's me, baby. My real name is Sarah. But everyone calls me 'Mac'".
"But why? You don't wike your name?" he asked, still confused. He didn't know anyone that didn't go by their real name!
"I do, baby. 'Mac' is just a nickname. Just like Uncle Harm and I call you 'little man'."
"Oh". AJ seemed satisfied with her simple answer, then turned his attention back to Matthew. "I give you a kiss. I make your owie go away, otay?". He leaned up to give a kiss on Matthew's cheek, then clumsily patted it. "Betta?"
Matthew reached out to ruffle the little boy's hair, his aged eyes misting over. "I feel better already, young man. Thank you!".
AJ beamed, looking up at his mother for approval. "See momma? I made him betta, just wike I made you betta!"
"You did, and that is very sweet of you". Harriet reached for her son's hand, "Now, let's leave Colonel O'Hara alone so he can rest. You can come and help me in the kitchen".
"Ohhhh, do you have to take him? I'm quite enjoying his company". Matthew pointed towards the tv where the parade continued to air. "And he's just in time to watch the parade. Would that be okay?"
AJ looked eagerly at Harriet for permission.
"So long as he's not bothering you…" she hesitated. While her son was certainly a well-behaved child and knew his manners, he was a typical three-year old and could become rambunctious at times. She didn't want him wearing out his welcome at Matthew's bedside.
"No need to worry Harriet, he'll be just fine. We'll talk about which floats are our favorite, right AJ?'
AJ nodded, snuggling between Mac and Matthew. He clapped his hands in delight when a 'Sesame Street' float stopped in the procession. "Oooo, Wook! It's Big Bird! An' Cookie Monsta! He's my favwit!"
Matthew flashed a reassuring grin at Harriet, and, satisfied for the moment that her son was behaving himself, she retreated to the kitchen where the others had already begun to uncover the multitude of hot dishes.
"Whose idea was this?" Harm whispered to Harriet as the two made quick work of plating up the food.
"The Admiral's, believe it or not", she jerked her head in the direction of AJ, who stood just beyond the kitchen doorway, conversing with Jennifer. "He called us in his office yesterday morning and asked how quickly we could put together a Thanksgiving dinner fit for a king". She smiled, handing him a stack of plates. "I must admit, it certainly put my cooking and time management skills to the test".
"Harriet, if anyone can pull a rabbit out of a hat, it's you". Harm shook his head in amazement. How she managed to pull it off with a young child at home and her full-time duties at JAG was beyond his comprehension.
"I appreciate the vote of confidence, sir". Harriet pulled the tinfoil of the last dish and set it to the side. "Let me see if we've got enough room at the table for everyone."
Harm stopped her with a hand on her arm. "We're out of uniform, so no sirring or 'ma'aming' here. And I'd like for all of us to eat in the living room. Matthew is just too weak to sit at the table. Not to mention, that table is awful to sit at. I swear, I'm giving it a Viking funeral when we get our own place.
The last comment did not escape Harriet's careful ear. "Your own place, hmmm?"
Harm realized what he'd said too late, and a blush crept across his face. "Nothing gets by your watchful eyes or ears, does it, Harriet?"
She grinned. "It's called being a wife and a parent. It comes with a variety of accessories: fatigue, shot nerves, eyes in the back of your head, oh, and did I mention exceptional hearing?" She playfully nudged his hip as he reached over to grab a slatted spatula from the cutlery drawer. "You and the Colonel should give it a try sometime".
Harm merely shook his head at his junior officer's reply. Leave it to Harriet to call people on the floor!
"Hey guys, how about we all pull up a chair and sit by Colonel O'Hara. I just don't think we'll have enough room at the table." Although Harriet gestured towards the table, her keen eyes indicated the size of the table had nothing do with them not eating at it.
Each glanced at one another, then a silent understanding passed over them. They made their way towards Matthew's bed, bringing a chair or stool with them.
"What's all this?" Matthew's brow furrowed in confusion as everyone gathered to sit around him.
"Not enough room for all of us, so, Harriet does what she does best: thinking outside the box while telling others what to do," Bud smirked, laughing as Harriet gave him a look of mock irritation.
"Sir, you know as well as I do, in order to run an effective office, there are those, who," she looked pointedly at her husband, "have to be told what to do. But of course, I won't name any names".
The entire crew chuckled at the couple's good-natured humor, and then the dishes began to make their rounds and food began piling up on plates. Even though her uncle's appetite was almost non-existent, Mac ensured he was given first-choice of each dish, and Harm assisted him in picking out what (few) foods he wanted to try.
Once everyone was satisfied with their selections, AJ bade everyone settle in their seats. "I'd like to ask, respectfully, if Colonel O'Hara would be so kind as to provide us with the blessing".
"It would be an honor, AJ," Matthew agreed. He then looked at each person clustered around his bed. From what he could gather based on conversations he'd shared with his niece, each one bore their own burdens. Their own hardships. Their own heartache. Some had families. Others did not. And yet, here they were, eager to share their life, their love, their time, with him. He was a blessed man, indeed.
"I will make this short and sweet, because we have quite the spread here, and I know that we have a little stomach that is waiting to be fed," he grinned at little AJ, "but I hope you all know how special this is to me. How much it means to the three of us that you would choose to spend your holiday with me. My Sarah has the finest surrogate family I could have ever dreamed or wished for her". He reached over to squeeze Mac's hand. "And I don't know how we would have made it this far without all of you supporting us every step of the way. We have so very much to be thankful for".
"We sure do, Uncle Matt. Let's make this the best Thanksgiving we've ever had," Mac added, lifting her glass up to toast.
"It already is, Sarah, it already is". Matthew pointed out.
Glasses clinked together, a smattering of "agreed!" and "Oo rah!" rumbled through the small gathering, and slowly, the food on the plates began to disappear.
A hum of contentment settled over the group as each became absorbed in various conversations and giving compliments to the preparers of certain dishes. And it was then, that Matthew took a figurative step back to evaluate his family. Yes. His family.
He watched AJ's eyes wander over his staff, evaluating them as though they were products of his entire life's work, an air of fatherly pride emanating deep from within his steadfast gaze. He watched as Tiner animatedly regaled Gunny with stories from his latest fishing expenditure, to which Gunny felt the younger officer deserved a toast of accomplishment. He watched as Jennifer Coats smiled with joy to be considered part of a family, probably for the first time in years. He watched as Sturgis looked at Harm and Mac with satisfaction, then turned to regard his date for the evening, Ms Bobbi Latham, with a sense of contentment. He watched with a pang of nostalgia, as Bud cut up little AJ'S food while reminding him of his manners, and Harriet beamed at her little family with pride. He felt the rush of excitement when Harriet and Bud announced they were expecting again, felt his heart squeeze when they shared the baby was a girl. He watched his niece's eyes tear up with genuine joy at her friends' second chance to complete their family, watched as she enveloped the mother-to-be in a warm embrace, watched as she looked at Harm with eyes full of longing, of love, of hope. It wasn't so hard to see that in her eyes, were the hopes and dreams of being a future wife, a future mother, a future lover.
Dishes were traded. Stories were shared. Cups refilled. Jokes made. Laughter heard.
Matthew had little physical appetite, yet he felt his heart filling to the brim with love at the family surrounding him. Found his soul filling with peace. Felt his spirit filling with joy at the smile that adorned his niece's face; for a moment, there were no clouds in her eyes, no lines in her forehead. It had been so long since he'd seen her genuinely happy.
He watched the way Harm would unconsciously touch her shoulder, her arm, her back, whenever she spoke. Watched as he instinctively wrapped his arms around her following the news that they were going to be godparents once more.
He didn't miss the look of wistfulness that enveloped Harm's face when Mac placed her hand on Harriet's growing belly, noticeable now that she had removed her overcoat. He didn't miss the look in his eyes when Mac glanced back at him with pure joy on her face when she felt the movement of new life beneath the layers of skin and clothing. It was so obvious as to what he was feeling…thinking…imaging.
He watched as Mac held Harm's hand under the table, watched as she leaned in to hear every word he spoke. His eyes travelled to meet AJ's, where a look of smug satisfaction settled within them. He watched all of this thru the eyes of a man content with his life coming to an end, a resolution of his unsettled past, and the happiness that he could watch over all of these people, this impromptu, motley crew of a family with broken dreams, promises, and so much hope for the future. And as contentment settled in his heart, so did his longing to go…..
Home.
Yes….it would not be long now. And he was ready.
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(LATER THAT AFTERNOON)
Shortly after the dishes were put in the dishwasher, the remnants of food stored in the fridge, and the garbage bagged for disposal, the JAG crew called it a day and headed for the door. AJ and the Roberts' were the last to leave. Harriet, holding the now-empty casserole totes, put an index finger to her lips and motioned for her husband to look at the hospital bed.
Their son was fast asleep, curled between his godmother and Matthew, a storybook about dinosaurs resting on the elder Colonel's chest.
Harm waved off Bud's movement towards the bed, carefully extricating the sleeping boy from beneath Matthew's arm. He gave AJ's golden blonde head a loving ruffle as Bud laid him over his shoulder. He spoke quietly he walked them towards the door. "I don't know how to adequately thank you all for everything".
"Oh Harm, you guys are family to us". Harriet grasped his hand, giving it a squeeze of affection before bringing him in for a hug. "We wanted to make her last Thanksgiving with him as special as we could".
"You certainly succeeded," Harm assured her. "Mac and I may not have a lot of money, but we are rich when it comes to our friends and family. We couldn't ask for more".
Dropping a quick kiss on his cheek, Harriet whispered into his ear, "Remember what I said, Harm. Marriage and parenting is the greatest journey I've ever been on". She let him go at this, and Harm laid a gentle hand on her belly, the fluttering of kicks and flips felt beneath his sensitive fingers.
"This little lady is already blessed beyond measure. To have you as parents," he nodded towards Bud, "and AJ as a big brother".
"And you, and Sarah as godparents," she added, smiling at the Admiral, "and AJ as his grandfather. She is blessed, for sure".
Bud reached out to shake Harm's hand. "Tell the Colonel we appreciate him being so kind to our son. He just adored him".
"It made his day, I promise," Harm returned the handshake, "Be careful driving home".
The Roberts stepped out into the hallway, waving over their shoulder as they made their way to the elevator.
AJ clapped a hand on Harm's shoulder. "Enjoyed the evening, son. Give me a call tomorrow. I need to discuss reducing your hours for the time being". His eyes flicked towards where Mac remained asleep, and he fixed Harm with a look that meant business. "She's your priority right now. I don't think I need to make that an order". And, with absence of another word, he exited her apartment, leaving Harm alone with his thoughts.
He shut the door behind AJ and turned to look at Mac. She stirred in bed, snuggling closer to Matthew, but did not awaken.
Over the years, he'd had a multitude of priorities, each one sliding in and out of his life like the metal gears of a lock: his career as a student at the Naval Academy, his career as a pilot and then a lawyer, the search for his father, finding his half-brother…..
But now? Times had changed. Life had changed; changed him, changed them, changed his priorities.
The Admiral had told him to make her his priority.
But he already had.
No order needed.
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::END CHAPTER NINETEEN::