A/N: Chapter 5 is here! When I first thought up this story, I know it had a much different plot. The problem is, I have absolutely no memory of it! So, here it is, a crazy little plot twist.
Miracles
Chapter 5: Cinq
Mac's POV
My head's pounding again, only this time it's accompanied by a burning pain over my left cheek. I guess I can understand Rene retaliating for me sleeping with her boyfriend, but did the bitch have to scratch me too?
Okay, maybe it isn't fair to call her a bitch…no, it is perfectly fair and frankly I've always thought that. I've also always thought that she wasn't right for Harm; he needs some one more like…me.
If only he hadn't told Rene about John and Chris. I wonder if he's told her about my alcoholism too…it also makes me wonder if he told Jordan about all my shortcomings, if he told Annie things, if he told the cashier at his favorite organic grocery store…yes, I know that thought is ridiculous. Of course, he didn't tell the cashier…maybe just the manager?
Cut the crap, MacKenzie, I tell myself. Harm wouldn't deliberately betray me…I know that. But still, I'm hurt. I've told Harm many private things; yes, anyone at JAG during the time of Chris's return and death knows that I failed to get a divorce and that I shot him, but they don't know about my alcoholism. They don't know how angry and embarrassed I actually am that Uncle Matt preferred to face prison and abandon me to his principles rather than give up the ridiculous idea of stealing the Declaration of Independence. They don't know that my mother didn't even try to take me with her when she left my abusive and alcoholic father, and they certainly don't know how absolutely wretched and unworthy that makes me feel. Not even Mic knows that…but Harm does…and now I'm left wondering if his past girlfriends know every sordid thing about me too.
Does it matter that they do? a little voice in my head asks. I think a moment, trying to convince myself that it doesn't, that my past has no bearing on what I do now and in the future, but I can't. Because that's crap. My past has helped shaped who I am now, there's no getting around it, and I think I told Harm so much because I wanted him to know the whole of me. He's the only person I've ever met that I knew instinctively that he wouldn't judge, that would understand how my early life affected me. I made a mistake in not confessing I was married and that I'd been involved with John; that's clear, and I know he lost faith in me because of all that…and I…I…
I resent him for that.
I haven't wanted to acknowledge what Harm said on the Watertown was true…just like I haven't wanted to really explore my feelings regarding him leaving to fly. I resented that too…well, who am I kidding…I still resent him for leaving me even though I know he wasn't really leaving me per se, and honestly, I even understood why he had to go back to flying.
Ugh.
The thoughts surging through my brain are making my head hurt worse and now I feel nauseated. More than nauseated. I'm suddenly stumbling too my bathroom to vomit into the toilet, which only makes the pounding in my head that much more excruciating.
Fuck.
Fuck this entire situation.
Fuck the idea that I'm worried the scorn of Harm's girlfriends regarding my past will convince Harm that I truly am terrible.
Fuck that much of the time I believe that I actually am truly terrible and the main reason I kicked Harm out today was because of my own shame.
After vomiting up what felt like half my lung, all I can manage to do is flop down on the cool tile floor.
And that's where Mic finds me, two hours later.
Harm's POV
I'm mad. No, I'm angry. No…I'm fucking furious. How dare Mac kick me out of her apartment when I just wanted to help her!
Well, maybe if you hadn't been such a talkative ass to your not-yet-girlfriend Rene regarding Mac and Brumby, Mac and Chris, and Mac and Farrow…
Lord, what a cluster. I had had such a beautiful night with Mac…with Sarah…and of course, I managed to fuck it up.
I suppose, however, that all of this was bound to blow up in our faces. Mac and I started things with us by cheating on our respective partners, who then found out about our indiscretion in the worst way possible short of actually catching us in bed together.
Dammit.
One thing is certain though: Even though I'm angry, I still love Mac more than life itself, and as soon as she has an hour or two to cool off, I'm going to drive back over there and tell her in no uncertain terms that I love her and want to be with her.
My musings are eventually interrupted by a yawn and I decide to grab a quick nap. Obviously not much sleep happened last night and it probably wouldn't hurt to be a bit more rested before I make my case for eternity with Mac; thus, I hop up the steps to my bedroom, set my alarm, and within seconds, I'm asleep.
Mac, my Sarah, looks radiant in a silk ivory gown, as Admiral Chegwidden escorts her up the aisle. She's smiling at me, and I know my grin is about to split my face. I take her hand in mine and, unable to resist, I lean down and kiss her cheek.
Chaplain Turner begins the ceremony and soon Mac and I have said our vows and exchanged rings. When he tells me that I may now kiss my bride, my heart swells, and I lean down, reaching out my hand to cup her cheek.
Something is wrong, though. Her skin, normally so warm and supple is cold, hard…and also wet…and sticky. Dreading what I'm about to find, I slowly withdraw my hand and make myself look down.
My hand is covered in blood…Mac's blood. Before I can look back up at my bride, I hear a cackling behind me, and I'm not surprised to find a gleeful Mic Brumby standing there. A moment later, Rene appears beside him, a vicious smirk marring her makeup-caked face. "What did you do?" I gasp, and both of them laugh cruelly again.
"You didn't think I'd actually let you have her, did you, mate?" Brumby asks smugly and just as I move forward to slug him, Rene holds up her hand.
"Oh, Harm…I didn't get my miracle…so why should you?"
I must look confused, so Rene 'helpfully' points to something behind me.
I don't want to turn around.
I won't turn around…
Rene laughs again, though, and then I hear Harriet scream behind me.
"COLONEL MACKENZIE!"
It's Colonel Rabb now, I think to myself, but then Harriet and Chloe beside her scream.
I turn around…
And see Mac's lifeless eyes staring back me. Blood pours from a wound on her head and she's absolutely white. Waxen, even. But she's still standing. Surely, she isn't dead…
It's then that she slowly sinks to the ground, blood pooling about her. The dark liquid stains her veil and soaks into her dress, and I know I'm too late.
Mic and Rene giggle maniacally, and I…
I scream.
I snap awake, the harsh beeping of my alarm doing nothing to soothe my pounding heart. "Mac!" my mind cries, and I slap the alarm so hard I knock it off my nightstand. I'm out of bed like a shot, frantically looking around, trying to find my bleeding bride. I'm stuck in some half state of sleep and wakefulness, and it takes me some time to realize that Mac bleeding and dying was just a nightmare. Somehow, becoming completely awake doesn't do anything to squelch my anxiety. It's even worse now than it was this morning when I was worried Mic had hurt Mac. I know I have to get to her. Now. I grab my keys and burst out of my apartment. I'm sprinting down the hall before the door even slams behind me, unlocked, but I know as much as I've known anything that I don't have time to go back and remedy that.
Mac's POV
Someone is shaking me. I just want to be left alone and I try to tell whoever is being so astoundingly rude to stop it, but all I can get out is a low moan. My head still hurts and I still feel sick, but the cool tile beneath my burning cheek is soothing and thank goodness, the intruder takes his hands off of me. I sigh in relief, but then…oh god, why is he talking now? And why did he just turn on the light?!
"Sarah! Sarah, luv…wake up! Wake up!"
Oh, you've got to be kidding me…
"Mic?" I mumble, very unhappy about this new development. I feel his hands grip me under my arms and then he hauls me up to a seated position. I feel his fingers brush along the scratches on my cheek and he gasps.
"Sarah, are you all right? Did Rabb—"
His mention of Harm and the implications behind it manage to break me out of my stupor and I push his hands away from me.
"Harm didn't do any of this, Mic." The ache in my head has turned into a vicious throbbing since I've been sitting up, and my nausea starts to bubble up again. I don't often have migraines like this; in fact, I haven't had one this severe since the day after the Surface Warfare Ball when Mic showed up. I guess with all the stress of today, I was due. Still, though, that doesn't mean I want a solicitous Mic hovering over me, and how the hell did he get in here anyway?
"Your door was unlocked…"
Goddammit, Harm.
"And you didn't answer, so I—"
"Didn't take the hint when I kicked you out earlier?"
"Now, Sarah…I know you were mad then, but surely—"
I wince at the sound of his voice; it's louder now, and I start rubbing my temples. "Surely you must know I'm even madder now."
"But—"
"You called Rene!"
"She deserved to know!"
"No, Mic…you just wanted someone to feel just as bad as you do. And as a result…" I point to the scratches on my cheek that seem to hurt more by the minute.
"That's not—"
"Get out, Mic. I have a horrible headache, my eye still hurts, and for god's sake, I just want to be left alone."
I try to push myself off the floor, but a wave of vertigo, not an unusual occurrence for me during a migraine, washes over me and I sit down hard onto the tile.
"Sarah, let me help you."
"No—"
I didn't think it was possible, but the pain in my skull has worsened and has now reached nearly unbearable proportions. I know then that I need to go back to the ER; I want to be stubborn, but I really can't stand this. Especially because I now find myself heaving over the toilet again, and it's an exquisite agony.
Once I'm done, nothing but bile left in my stomach, I feel Mic helping me sit back. In the distance I hear my cell phone ringing, and instinctively I know it's Harm, but I'm not ready to face him yet. Of course, there is no way I'd get to the phone in time anyway. My landline starts ringing almost as soon as my cell stops, but the caller hangs up before the machine picks up.
"Mic," I say, my voice sounding embarrassingly weak. "I need to…I have to…" What…what do you have to do, MacKenzie? Fucking migraines. I inherited them from my grandmother and though I love having her skin tone and eyes, I could have done without this.
"I'm taking you to the ER."
"Mic—"
"No, Sarah…just let me…I've seen how awful your migraines can get. Remember when—"
"Yes," I say shortly. I probably should have taken that as a sign that Mic and I weren't meant to be if my reaction to his arrival involved a trip to the ER and enough drugs to knock down a horse…or at least a large dog.
"We were in the ER for hours."
"Yes, I know that, Mic."
"Come on, Sarah—"
"Fine, Mic. Take me to the ER…and then go. I'll find my own way home."
"I'm not leaving you alone!"
"You never do," I mumble, and right now, all I want is to be left alone. Hooked up to an IV with migraine medication, yes, but alone nonetheless. Mic asked me once if I was only with him because I didn't want to be alone. He'd told a magazine that I was his fiancée, despite me having not yet moved the ring. It infuriated me when I was already annoyed with the whole televised trial thing. Of course, he couldn't just apologize or even merely acknowledge my feelings. No, he laid on the guilt thick that night, and I ended up apologizing to him.
"What's that's supposed to mean?" he snaps, and I can't believe he wants to start a fight now.
"Nothing Mic. Just take me to the ER, please." I hear my cellphone ringing again and wonder why Harm doesn't just give up.
Mic has to help me stand and it's a slow walk to the living room. While he helps me with my coat, my landline starts to ring, and this time the caller waits for the machine.
"Mac, it's Harm. Please pick up. Or at least open the door for me. Just so you know, I'm here, and if you don't answer the door, I'm coming in anyway. I'm just stepping onto the elevator now. Okay? Bye."
Oh, thank god. Yes, I'm still mad at him, but I'd definitely feel safer with Harm, regardless.
And you love him, you know, the little voice inside my head says.
Yeah, I do, I answer. I do love Harm, always have, and he's shown up at just the right moment.
"M-Mic…H-Harm can…" He doesn't let me finish because suddenly he's pushing me out the door and down the hall to the…stairs.
"Mic, what are you doing?" I hear the elevator ding from the opposite end of the hall, and I try to pull away from him, but I'm not at my best, and Mic's able to muscle me through the door to the stairwell. I can hear Harm call out to me and I try to answer, but Mic keeps tugging me a long. I'm so unsteady and sick but I still try to get away from my former fiancé. Suddenly, I succeed, but I hadn't counted on Mic having turned so that I'm now closest to the stairs. I can feel myself teeter on the edge of the first step and I reach out my arms to grab at something, anything, even Mic, but all I catch is air.
Everything seems to happen in slow motion then. I know I let out a scream, which is cut off by the slamming of my body against step after step as I cartwheel down the stairs, and I know the moment my right forearm snaps and my ribs break. I know the moment my head slams against the wall on the landing, brilliant colors exploding in my brain, and then I know nothing else.
Harm's POV
The elevator seems to take forever to reach Mac's floor and I curse to myself. I suppose I should have taken the stairs, but the elevator is right by the front entrance to her building, and it was still open as another tenant had just stepped out. I called Mac just as I stepped in, have called her several times in fact, but this time I leave a message telling her to let me in. I also told her I'd be letting myself in anyway. I just know something is wrong. Very, very wrong.
Finally, the elevator doors part and I step out into the hall. I note a flurry of activity at the opposite end, and I'm shocked to see Mic dragging Mac toward the stairwell. I call out to her, but Mic manages to push her through the door.
I'll never forget what happens next, and I will keep hearing those sounds until the end of my days.
I'll never forget the sound of her scream, the banging thuds as her flesh meets with concrete, nor my frantic run down the hall. And I'll never forget the sight that greets me as I shove open the stairwell door.
Mac, lying in a crumpled heap on the landing, blood pooling around her head.
End Chapter 5