A/N: Chappie 21! Woohoo!

Gone

Chapter 21: Brimstone and Fire

July 2005

1654 Local

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, VA

If any word could describe Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr, it would be 'surly.'

Since he'd returned from the farm two weeks ago, he'd rarely smiled, spoke mostly in monosyllables when it came to non-work-related chatter, and he certainly didn't socialize with his coworkers. He was still utterly heartbroken about the situation with Mac, and if he was honest with himself, he was utterly furious with his JAG colleagues. That fury was growing by the minute.

He remained professional, basically polite, but it was surely obvious that Harm wasn't himself.

In the evenings, Harm spent his time trying to figure out what to do about Mac. Though he hadn't fought her at the time, he had no intention of letting her go. He was torn; he'd messed up in Paraguay by not fighting her never, and now he seemed to be doing the same thing.

The real truth was he'd let her leave because he could see she actually thought it was the right thing to do. He'd give her some time while he tried to work things out; he had his twenty and was perfectly willing to retire to be with Mac, but he sensed she wouldn't take his "sacrifice" well. She still felt intense guilt about his resignation to go find her in Paraguay, so he'd have to ease her into that. He was also very conscious of the fact that retiring now would likely go over like a lead balloon here at JAG, and he very much wanted to leave on good terms.

Of course, given his current attitude, maybe they'd all be on better terms if he left now rather than later…

Harm ran a frustrated hand over his face. He was tired, having slept poorly the last two weeks, and it had become difficult not to outright snap at people of late. It was also getting nearly impossible to ignore the urge to call Mac, though he'd agreed not to for a while. Harm looked up at the clock, noting it was only five more minutes to official quitting time. He had a report or two that he could finish up, but as he'd only managed to write two words in the last thirty minutes, he decided he'd call it a night, or in actuality, a week. Just so you can go home and brood…

Cursing under his breath, Harm gathered up the files he'd need to finish over the weekend and shoved them in his briefcase. He made sure he was logged off his computer, then grabbed his cover off the top of his filing cabinet. He rather roughly yanked open his office door, only to stop short when he noted Bud standing there, fist poised to knock. Pushing down a surge of annoyance; after all, from what Harm knew, Bud hadn't been one of the chief offenders in the Mac saga, he gave him a semblance of a smile. "Can I help you, Bud?"

Bud looked decidedly uncomfortable and Harm felt a flash of guilt. He really should try to make more of an effort to be cordial to the father of his godson, but he wasn't sure he had it in him.

To Bud's credit, he didn't stumble over his words as he was often wont to do, offering Harm a simple, straightforward invitation for a barbeque at the Roberts' house this coming Sunday. Harm was about to refuse, but then Bud rather shyly mentioned that little AJ had been asking about him and really missed him. He sensed Bud was being sincere, and he could never let down his little godson. Keeping his reluctance hidden, Harm agreed to come, feeling ever more guilty about his attitude when Bud burst out in a huge grin and thanked him profusely for accepting his invitation.

"Do you need me to bring anything?" Harm asked politely and Bud shrugged.

"Nah, just yourself…and probably all the stamina you have as I'm sure AJ won't leave you alone."

Harm chuckled. "No problem, Bud. I miss the little guy. Jimmy too. I'll see you on Sunday. Have a good night."

"You too, sir." At that, Bud turned and headed back toward his office. Harm saw that Harriet was waiting for her husband there, so he quickly locked up his office and decided to take the stairs. He didn't particularly want to be cornered in the elevator by Harriet or any of their other colleagues; Sturgis looked like he was about to be leaving too.

Once Harm made it back to his loft, he quickly showered and changed into boxer shorts and a t-shirt. July in DC was just as hot as usual, and he was looking forward to grabbing a cold beer out of the fridge. He decided he'd just have a salad for supper; he didn't feel like anything warmer or more substantial.

As he passed his answering machine, he saw it blinking, indicating a message awaited him. His heart sped up a bit; every time he saw he had a message, no matter how unlikely it was that it would happen, he prayed it would be Mac. He pressed the button…

There was a message from Georgetown Self-Storage, where he'd found Mac's things, offering him a deal if he paid up front for a year, one from the dry cleaners telling him his uniforms were ready, and then yet another message that wasn't Mac…but it was the next best thing…

Hello, Harm…this is Mary. I said I'd call you in a couple of weeks…even though I feel like I'm betraying Sam…she's okay, but sad. Oh, who am I kidding, she's more than sad, but I don't think she's ready to hear from you yet. I'm sorry. Dan and I are checking on her and having her over as much as she'll allow. I'd better go now—take care, and I hope you two can work it out…"

Harm closed his eyes and pushed the delete button. He'd felt guilty doing it, but he had to at least know if Mac was okay. He'd called Mary shortly after he returned to DC and said he'd let Mac give her the details, but that currently they were on hold. He made sure Mary understood it hadn't been anything either of them had done and practically begged her to give him updates on Mac, and she'd reluctantly agreed to call him in a week or two.

Blinking back a few tears, telling himself she was at least being taken care of, Harm sat on the couch with his salad, downing his beer in only a few swallows.

1148 Local

Roberts' Residence

Reston, VA

"Hey, Bud, Sturgis," Harm greeted his host as he came through the back gate. Bud and Sturgis were at the grill and Bud happily returned the greeting. Sturgis merely nodded, and Harm wondered briefly who put the stick up the man's six this time. They definitely weren't as close at JAG as they had been at the academy, and the chasm had been widening over the last several months. Harm was debating on whether or not to attempt conversation with the other men when a joyous shout from across the yard reached his ears.

"Uncle Harm! Uncle Harm!" Little AJ came barreling toward him and Harm caught the boy up in his arms with a laugh.

"Hiya, Buddy!" he crowed while AJ squirmed to get down. As soon as Harm had him back on the ground, the little boy grabbed his hand and started pulling him toward what appeared to be a new playset.

"Uncle Harm! Come see my new slide!" Harm allowed the boy to pull him toward the newly erected equipment, flashing his two colleagues at the grill a 'what can I do' smile.

After a half-hour or so of pushing AJ on the swings, watching him go down the slide and the attached fireman's pole, and seeing Petty Officer Coates arrive with her boyfriend, lunch was served. Harm noticed a couple of people he didn't recognize; he figured they were neighbors that had grown friendly with the Roberts'. There was a couple who had twin boys a little older than AJ and they were currently sitting with the boy at the kids' table. Jimmy was in a little portable highchair, not quite ready to sit with the other children, and the adults were sitting in a half circle of lawn chairs. Harm found himself maneuvered into a chair next to an attractive blond.

"Harm? I'd like you to meet Vivienne Daily. She's a political columnist at the Times. Viv? This is Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr. He works with us at JAG." Harriet made the introductions and Harm politely shook the other woman's hand. Vivienne was fairly tall, even a little taller than Mac, had intelligent green eyes and a perfect smile complete with perfect white teeth. Harm sensed she was actually a nice person, but something about this meeting and seating arrangement was sending danger signals to him. What is Harriet trying to pull?

Harm, now feeling decidedly uncomfortable, sat down next to Vivienne and started to eat. He felt the woman's eyes on him from time to time and he really did want to be friendly and polite, but he was getting the sense that he shouldn't encourage her. They made some small talk, spoke about the heat of the summer in DC, learned that she was single with a teenaged daughter that baby-sat for AJ and Jimmy periodically. Harriet had met her at a neighborhood barbeque the previous summer and the women had become friendly.

Less than fifteen minutes into their conversation, Harm was convinced this was a setup. Ms. Daily, who'd told him right away to call her Viv, made sure to ask questions designed to get Harm to open up to her and offered up many of her personal details as well. Harm kept his answers brief and impersonal; Vivienne was by no means undesirable, but Harm had no intention of entertaining any other woman than Mac.

Harm was growing increasingly irritated. He certainly hadn't come here to be ambushed by a matchmaking Harriet and despite his enjoyment as he played with little AJ, he heartily regretted coming here. He was about to excuse himself when Viv forced his hand.

"Harm," she opened. "Harriet tells me you aren't seeing anyone. I've really enjoyed talking to you and I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner with me sometime?" She batted her full eyelashes at him, and Harm wanted to snort in disgust. There was nothing wrong with Vivienne; she was obviously intelligent, was involved in many charities, was genuinely friendly, and if Bud and Harriet trusted her daughter with their children, she must be a good mother as well.

Harm, however, wanted nothing to do with her. He loved Mac, and fully intended to marry her even if currently Mac was of the impression that they couldn't work. Harm sighed. Time to let Vivienne down…

"Viv, you seem like a lovely person and at any other time, I'd take you up on that offer, but I just got out of a serious relationship and I'm in no place to start dating. I'm sorry."

A flash of disappointment went through her green eyes, but Vivienne smiled gently. "I'm sorry to hear that, Harm. If you ever change your mind, Harriet knows how to find me."

Yes, I'll bet she does…

Harm apologized again but Vivienne waved it away. She did, however, take her leave shortly thereafter, leaving Harm to sulk while sounds of the children playing echoed around the yard.

While Harm sat silently brooding, all the resentment and anger he felt toward his JAG colleagues began to coalesce in one hot ball of rage. He knew he'd better leave before he said something he'd regret. He stood up, intending to say goodbye to AJ, but saw the little boy greeting the admiral who had just come into the yard. Soon the little boy was showing big AJ his playset, so Harm turned to let Bud know he had to leave. Blocking his path, however, was an irritated-looking Harriet.

"Harm? Why did you tell Viv you'd just got out of a relationship?"

Harm only shrugged, not trusting himself to say anything for fear it would come out in angry rant.

Harriet was having none of it. "Harm?" she asked again, her growing ire evident in her voice.

Harm swallowed a few times. "I, uh, wanted to let her down easy…"

"So you lied."

Harm shrugged again. "If you want to look at it that way."

Harriet laid a hand on his arm and he resisted the urge to yank it away from her grasp. "Harm, it's been two years. You need to move on."

"Move on from what, exactly?" he asked coldly, and a nervous glint formed in Harriet's eyes. She prodded on, however, and Harm clenched his fists in an effort to maintain control. He'd never lash out physically of course, but he knew he was about to erupt in a vicious rant. He really, really didn't want to do that. Not here.

"Mac, of course. Harm, it's time to accept the fact that she's gone…that she's de—"

"Don't say that," Harm replied, his tone this side of dangerous now, and he could feel everyone else's eyes on him as well.

"Fine," she said, wide-eyed. "But she's not coming back, and you need to—"

"What I need, Harriet," he spat, "is for you to stop meddling. Maybe if you and everyone else had showed her an ounce of kindness after she got back from Paraguay, she wouldn't be gone now!"

Harm was peripherally aware that Sturgis, Bud, and now the admiral, fresh from pushing AJ and his little friends on the swings, had stepped closer to him and Harriet.

Harriet gasped, her hand covering her mouth as her skin paled. Her blue eyes filled with tears, but Harm wasn't done yet. Not with her, not with any of them.

"She needed you, and you abandoned her. You all admitted it, and I'll never forgive that. What happened in Paraguay wasn't her fault. I was an ass, but she'd damn near been tortured. She had to listen to Webb—"

The admiral came up to his side and gripped his arm. "Son…" He knew the admiral was reminding him of the classified nature of that damnable mission, and Harm tried to rein it in, but he still ripped his arm out from under the other man's hand.

"No, sir…you abandoned her too. You know what I'm talking about. I know you made her feel like a pariah. You were all relieved when she finally resigned, weren't you. Until you got the note for AJ. But it wasn't sadness over her departure, was it. It was guilt. None of you truly cared for her. If you had, you never would have done the things to her that you did!"

Harm was embarrassed to feel his eyes burning with unshed tears, but he was on a roll. He knew he had engaged in similar behavior and that he had his own part in Mac's disappearance, but if she'd had the support of their supposed friends, she would still be at JAG. He would have apologized, they would have mended their friendship, and who knows, maybe they'd be married by now. Instead, all he had was the memory of the love of a traumatized woman, a woman more devastated by preceding events than he could even fathom. His ring wasn't on her finger, though he'd sneakily slipped it into her bag their last night together during a brief moment of slumber on her part. There had been a letter stating his intentions wrapped around it, and he prayed she'd at least read it.

"Sir—" Bud's voice broke into his thoughts and he turned on the younger man as well.

"And you, Bud…how could you? She was your mentor, the one you went to with your grades…why didn't you stop what was happening?"

Bud hung his head, but said nothing further. Harm turned away in disgust, disappointed beyond measure with the young man he and Mac had nurtured, helping become the lawyer he was today.

"And Sturgis…why did you tell everyone about her not thanking me? Yes, I was angry about that, but you couldn't have kept that to yourself? Surely you had to know how terrible things were down there. I was an angry wreck! I was obviously not thinking clearly, and yet you gave everyone else even more ammo against her."

Harm looked around him, his chest heaving with the intensity of his emotions. Harriet was crying in Bud's arms, Bud was blushing with what appeared to be guilt, Sturgis' expression was stony, and the admiral…his glare would have melted a lesser man…or at least a man who actually care at the moment what happened to him. Coates stood in the background, head hung in shame. He knew she was recalling all of her acts of near-insubordination, and he was sure she knew that Mac could have completely called her on it, had her reprimanded, but she didn't. Mac didn't fight back at any of them, convinced that she was entirely at fault.

"I refuse to believe that she killed herself…but if she did, it's on your heads. Yours! No one else's."

The admiral stepped forward then, outwardly calm, but the hands he clamped around his chief of staff's arms dug in painfully. "It's time to go, Harm. Go home. Go calm down."

Harm strained against his CO's hold, but the older man's grip only tightened. "Go, Harm. Now." His words were said in a soft, infuriated hiss, and Harm finally regained enough sense to see danger in the older man's eyes. He finally nodded his head, though the admiral held on to him a few moments longer. Once he was let go, Harm strode silently away, not looking back at any of them. He drove home almost blindly, falling onto his bed as soon as he'd made it in his apartment. He finally gave in to all the emotions swirling around him since Mac had left his grandmother's house, crying himself to sleep. Like a girl, he thought as he began to drift off, but he didn't give a damn.

0801 Local

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, VA

To say it was awkward at JAG the next week was a gross understatement. Harm stayed in his office most of the time, while his colleagues watched him warily each time he emerged. He knew he should apologize to them all, but his anger hadn't lessened in the least. The mood at JAG was probably as low as it had been since before his return, and the admiral was clearly irritated by it all.

Harm threw himself into his work, noting that Admiral Chegwidden hadn't assigned him any cases of worth this week. He supposed he was being punished for his backyard rant, but he vowed he'd make every brief, will, report detailed and perfect just to spite him.

It was now Friday morning, almost a week since the ill-fated barbeque, and tensions had not eased in the least. If anything, they'd grown thicker, and Harm was beginning to dread coming to JAG. He knew he could march into the admiral's office and inform of his intention to retire, but he didn't want to give the man the satisfaction. He'd bide his time just a little bit more…

Fifteen minutes later, a knock came at his door. Rolling his eyes, he tossed off a belligerent 'enter!" and waited for the door to open. It was Coates, informing him the admiral wanted to see him.

"I'll be there in five, Petty Officer."

Coates audibly gulped. "He said now, sir."

"Well," he said sarcastically, "I'd guess I'd better go to him then." He got up and followed the petty officer out of the room.

"I'm sending you away, Harm."

Harm gaped at the admiral's first words since he'd ordered him at ease. This did not sound good.

"Sit down, Commander," the admiral continued, and Harm dutifully sat, though he was ramrod straight at the edge of the chair.

The admiral pulled off his reading glasses and stared at Harm for long moments while Harm resisted the urge to squirm. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore.

"Where to, Admiral?"

"To the Seahawk."

"Why, sir?"

Admiral Chegwidden sighed heavily. "Because you need to get away. I had hoped you'd given up your obsession, but it's clear you haven't. I think everyone, you most of all, needs some space."

Harm's heart sank. "Sir, I know my behavior at the Roberts' was inappropriate, but I assure you, I can behave professionally here at JAG."

The admiral glared at him. "I'm sure you can. You just aren't."

"Sir!" Harm protested, though he knew the older man was correct, at least in part.

"Save it, Harm." Harm was surprised that the admiral had used his name rather than his rank. He was further surprised when the admiral stood and came around his desk to sit tiredly in the chair next to him.

"As inappropriate as your behavior was and has been of late, I'm letting it go given you weren't entirely incorrect in your assessments of the situation. Therefore, I'm only sending you to sea for a while. You'll be switching places with the JAG currently serving there. He's a good man; time at headquarters is probably overdue. Besides, I'm sure you'll get to fly a bit as well."

Harm couldn't deny that the assignment sounded rather appealing, but he wondered what effect it would have on his career or his plans to retired in the nearer future.

"How long, sir?"

"As long as I deem necessary, Commander!" the admiral snapped, but then sighed again. "At least two months. I need to make Lieutenant Commander Jellison's time here worthwhile, and I think you need the time."

Harm thought about it for a while. The admiral was likely right, and it wasn't like he was being given a choice. "When do I report?"

"You'll leave Sunday night from Andrews. Coates will have your itinerary." The admiral stood up and Harm stood with him, standing automatically at attention.

"Will that be all, sir?"

After a pause, the admiral shook his head. "No, son."

"Sir?"

"Harm, I told you what you said at the barbeque wasn't totally wrong and I know we've discussed this before, but I am sorry…so damn sorry about all of it." The admiral sounded defeated. "I know my actions, or inactions at the time, contributed to Mac's disappearance, and I—I will never forget that." Now the admiral sounded more than defeated, he sounded broken. "It's because of me, allowing her to go to Paraguay and then not allowing you to go after her, that all of this happened. She didn't die then, but she…she died anyway…"

Harm looked at the admiral in shock. The man leaned against his desk, shoulders slumped, looking nothing like the proud former naval seal he was when Harm walked into this room. "I should have quit long ago, Harm," the admiral continued, "but I've made the decision to retired at the end of the year. I'm not cut out for this anymore, and I've failed as a CO."

Harm, as angry as he was with the admiral, knew that the man truly regretted his actions. The man sounded utterly bereft, and suddenly, Harm couldn't let the man who'd once been like a father to Mac go on believing certain…things.

"Sir? You—you haven't failed."

"What?"

"You haven't failed sir. Mac's not dead."

"Son…" the admiral admonished, and Harm knew the older man thought that Harm was living in a fantasy world.

"No, sir. It's true. She's alive."

"How do you—"

Harm took a deep breath.

"Because I found her."

End Chapter 21