A/N: And here's four because the muse wouldn't let me do something else…I'm posting this directly from my phone so I'll edit later.

Trust

Chapter 4: Don't

When Harm returned a few hours later, Mac was sitting up in bed, and Harm saw her swipe a few tears away. A lump formed in his throat as he watched her for a moment before going into the room.

"Hey, Mac," he said, announcing his presence. She glanced at him only briefly before she returned to staring straight ahead. She looked so tired and drawn, despite sleeping most of last night and today.

"You came back." Her tone was a combination of surprise and what sounded to him like disappointment.

"Of course, just like I said I would, hon—er, Mac."

"Okay. Um, thanks," she added as an afterthought.

"You're welcome." Harm took his usual seat beside the bed. "How did this evening go?"

Mac shrugged. "Okay, I guess."

Harm could tell from her body language that things were really not that okay. He wished she'd confide in him like she used to, before everything got so crazy with Paraguay and Singer…and Webb. He wished he could take her hand and tell her everything was going to all right because he would make sure of it, but the way things were now, the way she reacted to his touch…

Reacted to his touch…

Would Webb have…did he…Oh god, had Webb raped her? As much as he didn't want to upset her he had to know. And if the answer was yes, then he could go kill the mother fucker…

Harm took a deep breath. "Mac…I need to ask you something, and I don't mean to pry…" He raised his eyes to hers and she gazed warily back at him.

"Um, Mac…I'm sorry to have to ask this, but did Webb hurt…" Harm looked up at the ceiling for a moment, knowing he needed to actually say the word. "Did Webb rape you?"

Mac's eyes widened slightly. She stared back at him for a moment, and it was all he could do to maintain eye contact. He knew he needed to be able to look in her eyes to make sure she was being truthful with him. "Mac?"

"Harm…I don't…" She heaved a big sigh. "No, Harm, he didn't. I promise you that." Harm studied her for long seconds and she met his gaze, though he could tell she wanted to look away. When he was finally satisfied of her veracity, he merely nodded and settled more comfortably in his chair.

"Good," was all he said, though he wanted to pull her into his arms and hold her until the still-haunted look left those chocolate amber orbs. He settled for patting her hand. He would have kept holding it too, but she once again pulled it away, and he gathered the courage to ask her about it.

"Mac, um…I'm sorry if…well, you seem to not like me touching you. I'm sorry, I'll try not to unless you say it's okay…but what's wrong, honey?" Damn, he thought to himself. I didn't mean to call her that…but dammit, I love her. However, he knew he couldn't say that now, not the way she reacted when he used endearments and touched her.

"I'm sorry, Mac," he finally said as she glared at him. "I'll try to stop calling you that too."

"You've never called me that before, so why areyou saying it now? You don't have to treat me so…so…it wasn't your baby!"

Harm had no idea what it mattered that he wasn't the baby's father. If it was his baby, Webb's baby, or the bum's down the street, it wouldn't matter. He'd still want to do anything to ease her pain.

"I know, Mac. I know. I know it wasn't mine, but I still care for you; I still feel so bad that you lost your baby."

He was surprised when anger marred her features. "Don't. Don't feel bad. I'll be okay. I don't need you…you…Harm, I'm exhausted and I just want to sleep. Will you let me sleep?"

"Of course, Mac. But before you go to sleep, can you tell me why I can't touch you?"

"I just…I just don't want to be touched right now." Guilt welled up in Harm when he saw tears well up in her eyes. He ached to brush them aside and his arm actually hurt from the effort to hold it back.

"Okay, Mac. Okay." Her tears were falling faster now and Harm wanted to cry himself. "I…" Harm cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, Mac. Look, I'll go…I mean, I'm not leaving the hospital, I'm staying here tonight-don't give me that look-but I'll give you some time and let you go to sleep."

She cried harder and he couldn't stand it. "Mac…I have to…I'm sorry, I need to—"

"W-what?"

"Sarah, I need to go take a walk because all I want to do is climb on the bed and hold you and if I don't leave now, I won't be able to stop myself. I'm sorry, Mac. I'm sorry." Harm slowly backed out of the room, and with one more 'I'm sorry,' he walked down the hall as fast as he could without actually running.

Mac felt numb. Tired. Weak. The first couple of times they'd gotten her up she'd nearly fainted. They told her to drink something, eat something, and she'd feel better. They lied. She ate, she drank, and then vomited it all up.

She'd been scared in the ER, scared and in pain. Such pain. Her lower belly had cramped viciously and the blood flowed freely, and then her baby's heart that had once beat so rapidly...stopped.

And so, she'd asked for Harm. She'd instantly regretted it, for how could she explain this? No one knew except Cl—We—him. She'd known she needed to tell the admiral soon before he sent her out to a carrier or somewhere equally forbidden, but she'd kept putting it off until suddenly it became a moot point. Well, not exactly…she needed a few days of medical leave because of course she couldn't even miscarry right.

She'd been surprised when Harm had arrived so quickly; it wasn't like he came to Georgetown much anymore, but then again, of course he'd shown up that fast. Why wouldn't he when she knew she'd made a mistake by having the nurse call him? She'd dreaded having to tell him about the pregnancy because invariably she would have had to endure his snide comments about her relationship with the "spook"-comments about how such a mama's boy could have impregnated her...or maybe he'd tell her the baby had to have been a boy because "any man who's ever been involved with Mac is either dead or wishes they were."

During blessed reprieve from the pain, she'd decided to have the nurse call him back, but then there he was, startling her, an exaggerated look of concern on his face...concern that morphed into hyperbolic fear when all hell had broken loose and she'd started to bleed out.

There was a silver lining in all of that-the telling of it had fallen to the hospital staff because she'd been too busy hemorrhaging to do it herself.

Now that she was no longer in imminent danger of bleeding to death, she'd expected him to go. Wanted him to go. She wanted to be alone!

No, that wasn't true. She was actually still frightened by everything and rather wished she could just crawl into his arms until the band around her heart eased. Of course, she couldn't, wouldn't do that, though; every time he touched her, every time he used those ridiculous endearments, she wondered where the real Harm had gone. She didn't want to make the mistake of accepting the comfort he seemed to be offering, because as soon as she let her guard down, he'd pull away and leave her feeling hurt and confused. Her heart couldn't take another inevitable rejection, and it angered and mystified her that he was acting so loving and caring when she knew he'd just go back to hurting her if she accepted his care. Thus, instead of comforting her, his touch, no matter how light, was almost physically painful.

She really should just tell him to leave and not come back, but whenever she opened her mouth to do it, she just...couldn't. She needed something familiar near her right now, and Harm was depressingly the lesser of many evils...evils that included the father of her child. If nothing else, Mac knew Harm would keep Webb away from her if he somehow found out about this, and that in itself made her decide it was better to have Harm there than not. Yes, he'd definitely protect her from Clayton Webb. Webb, whose darkness kept pulling her in, trapping her, confusing her, and it wasn't until she'd told him about the baby that she realized what he had done to her. He'd left her a shell of a woman. He'd kept pulling her back to Paraguay because he'd never really left there. He'd kept drinking and asking her to join him no matter how many times he'd told him to stop. He'd take a sip of whatever expensive booze he'd stashed at her place and then kiss her, letting the liquor fall into her mouth. She would always spit it out, stoically ask him not to do that again, and then spend the night vomiting after he had passed out. No, she hadn't drunk anything he'd "given" her, but she still felt the need to purge it all from her system.

And after all of that he'd do it again…and again.

And she'd let him…until she saw his reaction to the news he was going to be a father. She'd used her last bit of strength to tell him to leave her and never speak to her again. He'd left, but she knew then she'd never entirely be rid of him; she carried a bit of him inside her...and she didn't want it inside her. A baby with Webb was never meant to be. She'd considered abortion but she couldn't make herself go to the appointment she'd made. She prayed she'd miscarry but the baby had stubbornly held in there. Until yesterday. It was as if he had finally figured out his or mother didn't want him, so he finally gave up and died.

She hadn't done anything to end this pregnancy, but she knew her hatred of it had still killed her baby. And now that her baby was dead, she realized she would have come around and loved that baby with her whole being.

What had Webb done to her to make her capable of hating her own child?

Her mind traveled back to the beginning, and though she didn't want to relive that dark time, the memories came anyway…

End Chapter Four