Hey gang! Thank you for the reviews. Yep, the last chapter was a little rough. The rest is gonna be mostly angsty save for a few bumps. Trying to write as fast as possible but, work and life get in the way.
:)
CHAPTER 4 - One-Way Train
Harm slid into his chair and stared out into the bullpen, noting the hustle and bustle that never ceased. There he spotted Harriet staring at him, offering a watery smile which he couldn't return. Instead, he was trying to quell the anger that was rushing through his veins daring to make his heart slam right out of his chest.
Four months had gone by and he still couldn't come to grips with the way Mac had disappeared from his life. It was as if she never existed and yet he was constantly being reminded of her.
There will never be an us.
Harm stared down at the case file on his desk, noting her sprawling signature on the bottom of the page. It was the last case they'd worked on together when things were good between them. They had gone over the case during dinner at her place.
Afterwards, he'd helped Mac put up and decorate her Christmas tree. They laughed, shared hot cocoa and he'd left her apartment sometime after 2am. On the drive home he decided he would tell her, after Christmas, what he felt - how he loved her so much that he couldn't stop thinking about her. But, he chickened out and then the landslide began.
There will never be an us.
What the hell had he gone to Paraguay for if he couldn't get the girl? Clearly Mac was interested in Webb if her recalled the kiss they'd shared in the hacienda. The thoughts of Mac kissing Webb or worse, sleeping with him was absolutely nauseating. Harm couldn't help the hatred that filled his mind, the want to grab the spook and rip him to shreds. The desire to grab Mac and shake some sense into her was overwhelming.
Her didn't deserve her contempt or the barbs that she'd thrown at him or the accusatory way she'd starred when he chose to table the conversation about their relationship. It wasn't the time or the place. Maybe he'd read the signs all wrong? He'd taken that kiss at the Admiral's porch years ago and ran with it trying to build a relationship off of something that would never be his. It was his fault for pushing her away in Australia and never fighting for what he desired most. Now she was gone, really gone.
There will never be an us.
Each time the words sounded in his mind, he felt like punching something or better yet, drinking. Harm had never been the sort to drown his sorrows in alcohol but, at the moment, that's what she turned him into. Not a night had gone by when he hadn't had a glass or two of whiskey. It was the only way he could fall into a dreamless sleep.
The last few months had turned him into both a stalker and a recluse.
It began when Harm recalled that he had a copy of her apartment key - something he figured she wanted him to return. Not that Mac had actually asked him to. 17 voice messages in 4 months had gone unanswered he found when he let himself into Mac's apartment.
Out of curiosity, he had pressed the 'play' button on her answering machine to find 22 recordings, 17 were his. Harm cringed at how his voice sounded as the messages played back. The fact that it sounded like he had multiple personalities angered him. He pressed stop but, not before hearing Clay's voice reminding her of a dinner at Orsino's.
By the timestamp on the message, it was received 3 months ago and yet Harm couldn't help the murderous intent that grew inside. The more time went by, the more he hated Clayton Webb, the Agency and everything they stood for. "Bastard."
Cautiously, he made his way into Mac's bedroom, finding everything just as tidy as the rest of her home. There were no signs of her even sleeping in her own bed. It was like she never came home after Paraguay. It always amused him how such a squared away Marine could have an immaculate apartment and such a messy office.
Someone had been there he deduced when walking out to the dining room finding the couriered bankers boxes sitting on top of the table. Some of the items had been placed in neat little piles and that damned picture of the two of them sat, broken frame and all, on the center of the table.
Harm wanted to take the picture and rip it to shreds but, it wasn't his. This wasn't his home and it finally dawned on him that he needed to get away. Despite his anger, he needed to speak to her and get some sort of closure. He tried calling Langley but, no one knew of a Sarah MacKenzie and Clayton Webb was never available.
With a sigh, Harm turned in his chair and faced out the window. He'd woken up that morning with a feeling of dread that he couldn't quite shake. An unbearable pain on the left side of his body had inexplicably made him double over when he was standing in his kitchen making coffee. He nearly threw up from the pain until it disappeared as quickly as it began.
Something was telling him that Mac was hurt or worse. Something was telling him that he needed to set his anger aside and find her. With a huff, he came to his feet, grabbed his briefcase and made his way to the bullpen. "Harriet, if anyone calls, take messages. I'm not feeling very well."
"Get some rest, sir. You look like you need it." She'd been careful around him lately as every comment and even pleasantries seemed to make him irate. Yet, Harriet cared for him and knew he was hurting over Mac, they all were. "If you need anything, give me a call."
Harm was about to brush by her when he suddenly stopped and turned. The woman was continuously kind to him despite how he was acting. "I'm sorry for acting the way I have, Harriet. I just…"
"You don't have to explain, sir. I know." But, she didn't know, not really. Still, she wanted to help him. "The offer stands, if you need anything, let us know."
"I will, thank you."
An hour later, Harm sat inside his SUV parked outside of Clayton Webb's apartment in Alexandria. He glanced up at the old brownstone which was entirely too easy to find given what Clay was. Harm had decided to turn his attention away from Mac and squarely onto the man responsible for everything that had happened. He would wait forever if needed until he got the answers he was looking for.
Clayton Webb visibly cringed when the tall Navy Commander came his way. He'd been expecting a visit and was surprised it had taken Harm this long. "Where is she, Webb?"
"Hey Harm. Hello to you, too." Webb tried to get past but, Harm countered his movements, blocking the way to his vehicle. "Move."
"Where the hell is she, Clay?" Harm had waited for three hours and almost left the building until the spy made his way out carrying a briefcase and wearing that familiar three piece suit that seemed to be assigned to agents with their badges.
"Who?"
Angered by Webb's game, Harm took hold of the lapels of the suit and slammed him into the nearest vehicle. "Cut the shit. Mac, where is she?"
"Her apartment probably… Will you let me go, you're making a scene." He noticed some of his neighbors peeking out of their windows, their eyes trained on the two men seemingly fighting.
Harm released his grasp and helped Webb straighten out. "She isn't at her apartment. She hasn't been there in a while."
At his comment, Webb raised his brow and glared disgustingly at Harm. "Are you stalking her?"
"I have the keys to her place." Harm said on a shrug.
"That still doesn't make it legal, Rabb."
No, it didn't and Harm swore that he wouldn't return to her apartment unless he'd been invited. "Is she working for the agency?"
"Yes."
Harm breathed a sigh of relief. At least, if she was with the CIA, she was marginally safe. She had to be safe, any other alternative he wouldn't accept. Then why did he still feel the sense of dread? The overwhelming feeling that something was wrong. "Is she okay?"
"Yes." Although Webb couldn't be sure.
"Then why do I get the feeling that something is terribly wrong?" And that had been it, the nagging feeling that had forced him to leave work. The pain on his side that had come and gone without warning. "Something's wrong, I can feel it."
"She's fine." Webb pushed past Harm and finally made it to his vehicle, tossing his briefcase inside.
"Have you talked to her?"
Webb sighed. "What do you want Harm?"
"I need to speak with her."
"Then call her." He offered, slipping into his vehicle and hoping to extract himself from this conversation.
God, if only it were that simple. "I tried, she won't answer… After Paraguay it's like I don't exist to her."
There will never be an us.
"Then let her go."
It was a simple suggestion, one that he had been fighting with. He wanted to let her go to move on, to have a life without Sarah MacKenzie but, she was everywhere. "I can't, Clay." He held the door open when Webb made to close it forcing the spy to acknowledge him. "Is she in the States? Look, I know you went to dinner with her."
"I did. Once. Whatever you think is going on between Mac and me, it isn't." Webb said suddenly and with a hint of bitterness. He had wanted to be with Mac to try and make good on the promises he'd offered in the Chaco. He wanted to be everything for her, the man of her dreams but, there was just one problem. "She doesn't want me. Look, I'm late."
"Tell her to call me, please, Webb." He let go of the door and watched as Webb sped away. "Damnit." Maybe it was time to start investigating things for himself as the Admiral had suggested?
ONE MONTH LATER.
Mac stretched out in the hospital bed, wincing when the pain in her shoulder protested her movements. She had never known who'd rescued her only that the cavalry had made it on time before things got any worse. The thoughts of what Mikhailov's men could have done to her were never far from her mind. She knew enough about torture and had nearly experienced it first hand in Paraguay to know there were worst things out there.
Near drowning, a busted shoulder and a few broken ribs was nothing to write home about. The punctured lung on the other hand had been the worst of her injuries and required several days of intubation until she was able to breathe on her own. What she worried about the most was the repercussions she would face from the Agency. She had screwed up their mission, lost the USB drive that they so badly needed to destroy Mikhailov's little empire. It would be fodder against Russia as well, a way to reprimand them for rogue KGB agents and their nefarious dealings. She'd royal fucked up and figured that once she was better, they would toss her out on her ass.
At the very least, they had rotated her back to the States when she was stable enough for the long flight. She had been placed in a rehabilitation facility and would soon begin the tedious job of getting her shoulder to function well again. With a sigh, she stared out the window her thoughts, as usual, finding their way to Harm.
Mac stared at the phone that was sitting on the table next to her. It was daring her to call him, to just hear his voice, to beg him for forgiveness. To tell him that she loved him and always would. It was how the receiver wound up on her lap so that her good hand could dial the familiar numbers to headquarters where he would likely be. She dialed the extension to his personal line and hung up once his voicemail picked up. 'You have reached the office of Commander Harmon Rabb. Please leave your name and number and I will get back to you as soon as possible. Thank you.'
She held her breath at the sound of his voice and made to leave a message only to hang up when Clayton Webb appeared at her bedside. "Hey. Sorry I didn't come sooner. How you doing?" Webb placed a vase of yellow roses to which was attached a 'get well soon' balloon on the table next to her. He leaned in gave her a kiss on the cheek before settling on the guest chair adjacent to her bed.
"I feel like shit." Mac confessed with a lopsided smile that didn't really reach her eyes. Despite the treatment and the constant administration of pain medications, her body still hurt. The pain had been lessened considerably but, laying in a bed for the past two months was killing her back.
Webb sighed and took hold of her hand, squeezing gently. "You could have ridden a desk you know, there's always some job in the agency that isn't so…"
"Exciting?" She offered with a grin and rolled her eyes at the implication. Men were always trying to get women out of harm's way but, she wasn't a delicate flower. Mac was a Marine, a fighter and probably the dumbest woman alive.
Webb grinned, "We'll go with that." He sighed again and took a good look at Mac. Her eyes were sullen, skin was ashen and from what he'd read from the mission report she was nearly dead when found. He expected to see signs that she was raped and was thankful that had not occurred. A month earlier, when Harm had unexpectedly visited him, the other man had mentioned something about Mac being in danger. He scoffed at the notion until he found out how right Harm had been. "Rabb's gonna kill me when he finds out about this."
At the sound of Harm's name, Mac sat up. "No, don't tell him." She didn't want him to know about the mission or how she almost… No. Mac closed her eyes and shook her head. "He can't ever know about it."
"He's been asking about you… Hell, he waited for me outside my apartment a month ago." And Webb was very certain that Harm had been parked outside just a few days prior. He'd seen the familiar SUV which had driven off once he had stepped out of his building.
"He did? Why?"
"I know this is gonna sound crazy but, it was like he knew you were in danger." At his words, he felt her pull away, hand coming out of his and those expressive brown eyes of hers glancing out the window. Clay had hit a nerve, he knew. "What happened between you two anyway?"
"Nothing and everything." Mac had often wondered how things between them would have been if they'd been lovers. Would it have fixed them and brought to completion their endless dance or would it have pulled them farther apart? Maybe she wouldn't have gone to Paraguay when it felt right to distance herself from him. They needed a little time apart to right the ship and get their friendship back on track. She got more than she bargained for.
There will never be an us.
"Do you love him?" Webb asked when he saw the myriad of expressions register on her beautiful face. He hated seeing her like this so distraught and confused unlike the strong, stoic Marine that she was. What he hated the most was that he'd put her in this predicament, requested her because… why, he wasn't sure. Maybe he just didn't want to be alone? Maybe he just wanted someone that he knew and not a stranger? Maybe he was falling a little bit in love with her? Maybe if he got her away from Harm long enough Mac would notice him? Maybe?
Did she love Harm? "Unfortunately."
"Don't say that. Look, I'm not gonna lie, I had hoped that you and I… that we'd…" What exactly? Fallen in love? Married and raised a family within the confines of the CIA's version of the picket white fence? Webb groaned in frustration and stood. "I know I'm not good for you. Rabb is… Well, if you like the boy-scout type, I guess. Talk to him, work it out."
"It won't work between us...We just keep hurting each other…I just..." And that was the truth. After nine years, it always circled around to the hurtful words they'd used against each other. The push and pull that manifested itself when it seemed a relationship was in sight. Didn't you always hurt the one you love? Whoever thought of that was an idiot and Mac couldn't take the pain anymore. "Tell me you didn't come here to play matchmaker. I don't wanna talk about Harm and me."
Webb knew he should push, hoping that mentioning her former partner would make the woman come to her senses. Whatever personal mission Mac was on wasn't going to end well, he knew. He just didn't want her getting hurt. "You did pretty well your first time out." He changed the subject and got a horrified expression from her. "What?"
"I failed, Clay." At least, that is the way that she saw it when she was debriefed a month prior. The agent who questioned her had been uncaring and impersonal, leaving Mac to feel like a failure.
"No, you didn't. We found the USB and Mikhailov was captured. You did your job, Mac." And nearly paid with her life for it.
Mac sighed. "I failed. I was supposed to seduce the mark, to sleep with him. Instead I was...too busy thinking about Harm." She said with disgust and brushed away the single tear that fell from her eye. "I kept wondering what he would think about me doing that. Seducing a man I didn't care for. When I kissed Mikhailov, I was thinking of him each and every time. It was the only way I could go through with it."
"This wasn't the way your first time out was supposed to be." Webb confessed but, he was removed from being her handler due to their personal connection after Paraguay. Kershaw had assured him she'd be well protected - he never expected this. "I'm sorry, Mac."
There will never be an us.
Sorry? She snorted at his words. Perhaps this was some sort of divine karma for what she'd done? The fates scoring a point for the man who she hurt? "Have you ever had to seduce anyone while on a mission?" She asked out of curiosity, assuming he would throw out the predictable 'it's classified' answer that Webb was known for.
"Yes, I have." He answered simply. "And I had to sleep with her as well. Unfortunately, I did the one thing that the agency warns us not to do: fall in love." The woman was killed for his mistake and he was reprimanded which is how he'd wound up in Paraguay, as penance.
"How do you learn that?" Mac wanted to know, to figure out how to stop her heart from aching. She wanted to stop herself from wanting Harm, from loving him.
Webb turned to Mac and slowly paced towards her. He knew what she wanted and it was something he preferred she not endure. "Training. Lots of training to close myself up and not feel emotions when I'm on assignment. The problem is that sometimes the lines blur and there is no difference between being on assignment and real life."
"That doesn't sound like a good way to live."
"For us it's the only way to live."
She thought about forgetting Harm entirely, erasing him from the very fiber of her being. The thought scared her as there had been good times, more than the bad. He had saved her, protected her and she done the same for him. He was her best friend and sometimes, her only friend when the World seemed out to destroy her. How do you just erase the last nine years of your life? Was it even possible? Would she want to? "How does it work? How do I forget?"
The fact that she had asked him saddened Webb but, he knew it would protect her as well. Being a field operative meant keeping your head in the game and if she was so caught up in her emotions for Harm, she was a liability to herself. "Welcome to the Brotherhood."