A Tangled Webb Pt 2.
"What are you willing to do to keep her?"
Harm's heart squeezed painfully at the thought that it had finally happened, he'd lost Mac. It was the one thing he never wanted, the one constant he needed in his life like the blood that ran through his veins.
She was everything to him and in just a couple of days they managed to wedge a hole the size of the Grand Canyon between them. And so he sat next to her (the only spot available in the whole goddamn airport) and brooded while Mac casually perused a magazine she'd found on the seat.
Sitting sideways, her back to him gave Harm the chance to look at her, noticing her thinner frame, the palness of her skin. His concern grew when his eyes focused to the marks on her wrists and the matching set on her ankles, barely visible unless one knew what they were looking for. They were a testament to the horror that she endured, the toruture that would have destroyed her if he'd been just a few minutes late. Christ, he didn't want to think of what could have happened or the ramifications if Mac would have survived the torture.
"What are you willing to do to keep her?" Chegwidden's voice echoed in the recesses of his mind, reviving the question which plagued Harm during his journey to Paraguay. He knew what he wanted, knew that his endeavour was more than a friendly gesture. He was resady and yet, the bravery all but fizzled out when he untied her from the bindings that had held her against that rickety, wooden torture table. Words failed him then and he comfortably turned to the business at hand rather than professes undying love for her.
It all but broke his heart to see Mac kiss Webb, to find that his Marine may have been stolen away by another yet again. But then, what did he expect?
There had been no hugs, no kisses, no pleasantries, just a need to get her moving and far away from the clutches of those terrorists. He hadn't anticipated what came next, the snide comments, hurtful words, and… Never.
Never. Only he wasn't willing to let it go or settle in being just her friend. Once and for all, he would state his intentions and pray she felt the same.
"Mac, we need to talk." The words came out of his mouth before he had a chance to stop himself and suddenly a braveness he didn't think he had came to the surface. "We need to talk about us."
She turned her head to face him, eyebrow raised in that cute annoyed look Mac often leveled him with. "Oh, now you wanna talk?" Clearly she was still bristling from the previous night, and a conversation that had been tabled for two years. Harm hadn't realized just how much damage his actions caused until the moment they stood at the taxi stand and the ensuing ride to the airport.
It had given him enough time to think clearly, to mull over the facts that he hadn't really taken into account. He wasn't in Paraguay to save a friend, he was there to bring back the woman he loved safe and sound. "Did you mean what you said?"
Mac rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't have said it if I didn't." Only the look in those beautiful brown eyes of hers betrayed her words. It was a tell he used when they faced off in cases.
"That's not an answer Mac."
"Well it's the only one you're going to get." Annoyed, she returned to the magazine, attempting to ignore him only.
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why did you say it? Why 'Never'?" Harm wouldn't let it go this time, not until he could make her understand what he felt for her.
"Fine, you wanna do this here, fine…" Mac tossed the magazine onto a table and then shifted so that they fully faced each other. She was ready to fight and bring forth a verbal onslaught until she noticed he'd taken her wrist in his hand.
Harm ran his thumb over the fading marks, his eyes studying each line as if willing them to disappear. There was such tenderness in his touch, such love that it calmed the anger.
She took a shaky breath, an effort to try and stave the unshed tears. They spilled out anyway and a hand that Mac raised to her mouth was the only thing that stifled her sob. It was all she could do to not break apart completely, her mind and body finally accepting the atrocities that would have been carried out if he hadn't saved her. "Did I even thank you?"
At his questioning glance she shifted closer to him almost whispering for fear that her voice would crack from her emotions. "You found me, you reecued me and I didnt even thank you did I?"
"Oh Mac." He brought his hand up, thumb brushing away a tear and then another until his palm rested on her cheek. "I would do it again."
"Thank you."
They held each other's gaze for a long moment and then Harm had found the courage to speak. "Did you mean what you said? Back at the cab stand. Never?"
"Yes but I don't want it to be true." She was biting her lower lip, nervously trying to understand the odd feeling inside - the adrenaline that wouldn't quit. "We've been so nasty to each other for the last couple of days, I was acting like someone else… like someone possessed...I'm sorry.. I."
"PTSD."
The four letters finally had her pull away from him, the obvious diagnosis that Mac found to be nothing more than a weakness, something she was not. "I'm a Marine, we're taught to deal with stress… with war."
"Mac… you went through hell… stress has to relieve itself somehow."
"By attacking you?"
He shrugged. "I was an easy target."
"You were hurt and I… I left you…. I'm sorry…"
"You're alive." He hooked a finger under her chin and forced Mac to look at him. "You're. Alive."
"We both are…" She offered a watery smile and then slipped into his arms, leaning against Harm when he hugged her tightly against him. Mac let his strength surround her, heal her and clarify the one truth she could deny no longer. "You love me, don't you? That's why you came."
"I've loved you for years, Sarah." He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head and pulled Mac impossibly closer.
"I love you too."