A/N: Another update, this time from St. Maarten! A note, while I am indeed a doctor, I work in family practice, NOT critical care. I know enough to be dangerous so a lot of what I talk about regarding Mac's condition I had to look up myself—yes, I have access to medical resources so hopefully I'm not too off base, but if any of you out there do practice in critical care, etc, I do apologize if I sound stupid. I am REALLY glad I don't work in that area. That area or orthopedics. I really suck at orthopedics. I guess we all have our niches! Once again, I'm posting this via my iPad, so errors will be there and it'll probably be a bit messed up for a bit.
Miracles
Chapter 11: Onze
Harm's POV
Before I know it, I'm running down the hall toward the ICU. There's someone waiting there for me; it's Sara, and she quickly ushers me in to the unit. The charge nurse—this on is Janet—starts to stand, a protest obviously on her lips, but Sara gives her such a look that the woman sinks to her chair, silent. I see the admiral and Father O'Rourke waiting outside Mac's room and they both look angry. Gone is the mild gaze of the priest. His eyes are now flashing and I wonder what has shaken his previously unflappable calm. A glance into Mac's room shows me the reason.
It's Brumby.
My fists clench and I step into the room.
Mac's Dream
Little Sarah was mad. Her father-like protector in the great plane was gone, as was the soothing friend of Padre in his little black and white one, and now the only plane flying overhead was that awful red one.
"Go away!" she shouted futilely. He continue to circle overhead as he talked and raged and hurt her. She tried to picture herself pulling her hand away but it didn't work.
She felt something else too…the longer the red plane stayed overhead, the weaker she felt. She'd lost the will to fight to get back to her friend, the incessant buzzing of the red jet sapping her strength. She couldn't even raise her arms now to cover her ears, and his voice was like daggers piercing her skull.
"Please stop," she wept, her voice weak. Her friend the padre was still nowhere to be found and she felt utterly abandoned. The green peaceful area now seemed to be the only option for her, and Sarah knew she didn't have the power to face what Padre had warned her about if she tried to return to her friend. With a cry of despair, Sarah started to drag herself toward the green haven, the previous strength she felt the last times she'd headed in that direction nowhere to be found.
Harm's POV
"How did you know?" I ask as I turn to Sara, who followed me into Mac's room. She's not in her normal scrubs, so I know she's not on duty.
"I-I don't know. I was…praying—and suddenly I knew." She's not looking me in the eye and I know she's not telling the complete truth, which leads me to believe there is much much more to this than she is letting on. It doesn't matter though; I need to get that bastard Brumby out of here. I don't know how I know, but I the longer he's there with her, the weaker she gets.
Brumby stands as I step closer to Mac's bed. "Get out, mate. She's not your concern. I have power of—"
"You forged it, you son of a bitch. Stop doing this to her. She doesn't want you. She doesn't want you here. Why do you keep…keep…" Tears are now rolling down my cheeks and I hate that I'm showing weakness to the likes of Mic Brumby, but I have no reserves of strength left.
"I j-just w-want to know w-why," I implore.
"I don't have to justify myself to you, Rabb."
"Then justify yourself to her."
"What?"
"Tell her why you won't let her best friend in. Tell her why the admiral had to muscle his way in. Tell her why you won't even let Bud and Harriet in. My god, mate! Bud was going to be your best man!"
"Was? Don't you mean is, Rabb?"
"No, I don't, goddammit! Y-your delusional! She. Said. No!" I'm shouting by the end of my sentence and I feel a small hand on my arm. It's Sara's, and I know she's warning me to keep my voice down. I glance her way and nod and when I speak to him again, it's in a much lower tone.
"Come on, Mic."
"No, Rabb. Now, I've had enough. Get out before I have them call security."
I'm at the end of my rope now and I really am crying. "Do you want me to beg? Please, Mic. Please. At least let me stay. I l-love h-her. More than I've loved anyone before. More than life. Just—just let me be here with her. If she's going to die…" My throat closes at this and I see that Brumby has turned an unhealthy shade of white. "Please," I beg in a choked whisper. "Please."
For a moment, Brumby looks like he's softening. I look on in hope…hope that crashes when his face hardens again. He stands to his full height and reaches for Mac's call button…
And then alarms start going off. Sara pulls me back as nurses rush into the room. They push Mic aside and I hear words about oxygen sats dropping. Something about an obstruction. I think the only reason I'm still standing is because my loyal nurse protector is still beside me, holding me up.
"Come on, Harm. Come with me. Give them a little room to work. We're just going right outside the door," Sara whispers in my ear, and then she looks at Brumby. "And you…you need to get out too. Don't make this worse for her or them," she says as she motions toward the people working on my marine. Mic opens his mouth and I think I might kill him, but Sara's hand on my arm stops me. She's glaring at Mac's former fiancé, then tells him in a voice more menacing than I would ever expect to come out of this gentle young woman's mouth. "Get. Out. Get out or I'll find a way to make your life absolute hell, do you hear me?"
Brumby pales again as if he's seeing his life pass before his eyes. I can see he believes her, and like a dog with his tail between his legs, he follows us out.
And just like that…everything calms. I can almost hear a collective sigh of relief coming from the staff inside Mac's room, and I think I might collapse. Sara helps me to a chair before I do and I reach out to grab her hand before she moves away. "Thank you…I—I don't know what we did to deserve to get you as our guardian angel."
Sara's eyes fill with tears. "He told me you needed me."
My eyes widen, but before I can ask her what she meant, Mac's nurse comes out. She ignores Brumby and comes straight for me.
"What happened, Amy?" I ask, and she starts telling me details that I'll never understand. The one thing I do understand, however, is that her oxygen needs, stable for weeks, have suddenly increased. Amy glances over at Sara and I can tell by their eyes that this worries them. I know I should ask them for more of an explanation, but I have to get to Mac. As I start to pass through her door, the bastard grabs my arm.
"What did I say, mate? Get out, or I'll have you thrown out."
Although I have no intention of leaving, I try to look conciliatory. "Please, Mic. Let me just say goodbye. I just need to say goodbye."
Mic stares at me for long seconds and a sickening look of mocking benevolence descends on his face. "Fine, Rabb. I'll allow it. Three minutes."
I nod and try to look grateful. I don't tell him he'll have to kill me to get me out of here. I step inside her room and make my way over to her bed. I lean to kiss her on her forehead before I sit down and take her hand.
"Hey, Mac."
Mac's Dream
Sarah was only half way to her happy, warm place before she had to stop. She was too tired to go on and despite her longing for peace, she felt like she was being pulled back toward the pier. She could hear the ocean churning and the breeze of the water was chilling, but still, she felt as if she should turn around. She started to do just that, but a sound overhead caused her to look up. There were two airplanes up there now, the red one and her friend's beautiful green and blue one. They were fighting, shooting at each other, and it looked like her friend was getting pummeled.
"Stop," she whispered, no strength in her to say anything else. She could only roll over on her back and look up as her friend took a direct hit. He faltered in the sky and the steady whine of his engine changed. He was going down…
"No!" she cried weakly. This was too much. If her friend was gone, she had no reason to be here. She rolled back over onto her stomach and started to crawl away, her breath now coming in painful gasps. She felt herself suffocating…
And then she heard her friend's plane grow powerful again, she could breathe a little better now, and she wept in relief.
Harm's POV
"Mac…sweetheart…don't leave. Please don't leave. I know he scares you and I'm so sorry I haven't been here to protect you, but I'm not leaving now. Not ever. I'm scared too, Mac. Not of him, but of what he's trying to do…and…and…oh, Sarah…I'm scared to live a life without you in it. I love you. So much. Please, please come back to me. Please, my love. Please." I raise her hand to my lips and kiss every knuckle before I press it to my heart. "Baby, come on…"
"Times up, mate."
"Goddammit, Mic. Just stop this," I mumble tiredly, not moving a muscle. I hear him step closer and then his meaty paws are on my arms. His stubby fingers wrap around them and dig in. He's trying to pull me away from her and I'm about to fight him off when an alarm starts to go off again.
Mac's Dream
It was hard to breathe again. The angry plane and her friend were back to fighting and why wouldn't the red pilot just give up? Why was he still shouting in her ear? Why was he choking her. That's what he was doing. She felt him squeezing her throat even thought she couldn't see his hands. Her vision started to tunnel…
Harm's POV
Mac's nurse, Amy, is by her bedside again. Her oxygen needs have risen once more and I know why. It's because Brumby won't give up. He won't leave. She needs him to leave, and if he really loved her he would. I whip around to face the self-serving bastard that is Mic Brumby.
"Don't you see what's happening here? You come in, she starts to crash. All those times you were with her, they could tell she started to fade. Don't stand there and tell me you don't see it. Think back, Brumby. Think back. She'd get a little better…a little better…and then you'd show up and something would happen. She got pneumonia. Her line went bad. I come in, or the admiral and Bud and Harriet come in…and things would look up. Think, Brumby, think! You have to leave. You have to. Or she'll die and it will be your fault. It's already your fault she's here, and you know that too. This isn't because Mac and I finally stopped fighting each other…it's because you decided she didn't deserve a choice. You decided she was yours and no one else could ever have her. You wouldn't take her word that it was over, and now everything might be over. Do you understand?"
As I speak I get closer and closer to Mic, doing my best to ignore the flurry of activity behind me. It's an interesting thing to watch the man…somehow, I think I'm finally getting to him. He's paled to the point of near-yellow waxiness and I see his hands shake.
"Do you understand, Mic?" I say again, and I see him look over my shoulder at Mac before he looks back at me. His shoulders suddenly slump and he opens his mouth to say something, but then he shakes his head. He turns around and finally, finally, he leaves us alone.
And then she's stable again.
In the last ten minutes I've learned that stable doesn't necessarily mean good. Mac's fading. She's completely dependent on the ventilator and now a doctor is here examining her. I can see in his eyes that this is bad. I close my eyes and clench my fists so hard that my short nails dig in deep into my palms.
"Mr. Rabb?"
"Harm," I say automatically and the doctor nods.
"Can we talk?"
I gulp. "Yes…"
"I hear the medical POA issue was solved…so I can discuss this with you."
I nod.
"Are you aware that Sarah has a living will on file discussing her feelings on prolonged life support?"
"I am." She and I actually filled those out together and I couldn't help thinking at the time that it was something a married couple would do, not two friends.
"Then you know she was very clear she did not want to be kept in this state if recovery wasn't possible."
My eyes sting with tears. "Are you saying it's not?"
"No…" the doctor hedges. "But things aren't looking good, Harm. There's no evidence of responsiveness. She is entirely dependent on the ventilator. Her pupils are not responding to light stimulus. These are all indications of brain death."
It's at that moment I know my life is ending. Brain death means actual death. I want to scream, cry, rage. I want to vomit, but instead I just sit there while the doctor talks about apnea tests and final determination of brain death. I know it's my decision to withdraw life support, but I won't keep her like this no matter how much I want to. All I ask is that I have one more night with her…
"Of course. We'll wait until the morning." He stands up with a sad smile on his face. "I'll leave you alone with her now." He steps toward the sliding glass doors and turns before he goes through. "I'm so sorry, Harm." And then he's gone.
"So…" I say to Sara who sits across me by Mac's bed. She looks up at me but just as quickly shifts her gaze away. I suspect she knows what I'm going to talk about and since we've talked about everything under the sun, I don't understand why she's so uncomfortable. "Sara…what don't you want me to know?"
"Oh…nothing really…"
Right.
"Sara, who told you I needed you? God?"
"No…"
"Who, Sara?" I don't know why I want to know so bad.
"My uncle…"
"Your uncle…" I motion with my free hand for her to go on. My other hand is wrapped fully around Mac's.
For long moments Sara just sits there looking down at her lap. Then, she sighs and meets my eye. "My uncle…he died before I was born, was killed in Vietnam. I always felt he was looking out for me…he was a chaplain."
My heart starts to pound a little.
"A Catholic priest."
"Yeah," I say, and it comes out shaky.
"He saved the marines he was before he was killed, but according to some of the men there was something more to it. Honestly it was a miracle that most of them made it out of that from what I've heard. Then people started praying to him…and miracles happened. A child was cured of cancer when he should have died…things like that." I watch her bite her lip, knowing she's still nervous about talking of this. I encourage her with a nod to continue.
"Well…I've never seen an actual miracle…but there are things that have happened in my life that makes me think he's still taking care of us. My dad wasn't even out of high school when Uncle Walter died…but he's still been a big part of our lives. So…I decided it couldn't hurt to pray." She glances up at me, her cheeks tinged with pink, then gives me a small, sheepish smile. "I suppose you think this is all crazy, huh? It's get crazier…they're trying to make him a saint…an honestly, I think he is."
For a moment I just stare at her, my heart still pounding in my chest. I wonder, does she know I was involved in a case that concerned her uncle's miracles? She must not…but am I to believe Chaplain Wiggins put Sara here for Mac and me?
"You know…there was a case recently…I don't know much about it, but apparently some marine believed Uncle Walter helped him find his wife after she'd been beaten…I'm not sure who that was—or if it's true that the marine served with my uncle—"
"It is."
"What?"
"Sergeant Jarvis Krohn…he served with your uncle. Your last name is Wiggins, isn't it, Sara? That's what the W on your badge stands for."
"Well, yeah…how did you…"
"I defended Sergeant Krohn…we lost…but suddenly I have faith that the truth will come out and Jarvis will be a free man. He told me about Chaplain Wiggins. I didn't want to believe him…but I do, Sara. I do. Your uncle told you to call me when Brumby started in with that bogus POA and then again when…w-when…m-my S-S-Sarah was…" I can't go on any more; my voice is locked in my throat and I have that now familiar feeling of choking again. I've felt it everyday since Mac's accident.
"I-I didn't know, Harm. Oh my…"
I bitter spear pierces my heart just then as I swipe at my tears. "What I don't get is—why did he just send you to help instead of healing her?"
Sarah stands and makes her way around the bed. She rests a hand on my shoulder, and once again I'm reminded what an old soul she is. "Harm, I don't know the answer to that…you know, I was working on the neuro critical care unit until just before Mac was admitted. I'd only been working here in the SICU for a week when she had her accident. Maybe Uncle Walter just put me here to help you and Mac and your friends deal with her passing. I've asked him to help heal her. I have…but I don't think that's my role in this."
I cover the small hand that rests on my shoulder with my own. "Sara, I just wish—"
"Or maybe…Uncle Walter is just waiting for you to ask him to help Mac."
Mac's Dream
Little Sarah still lay in a heap, exhausted by everything that had happened. The seas were calm and blue again, and the red pilot was gone, but there was still a haze that had settled over everything. Her friend continued to fly overhead and she could hear him tell her he loved her, that he wanted her to come back, but she just didn't have the energy. Though she'd told Padre she'd try to tell her friend to ask him to help her, she knew that was impossible. No one could hear her over the jet engines that came and went. Right now a tiny lavender plane circled her friend's sea—colored jet; it was one she'd seen before and she knew the pilot was a girl. She was nice too, but she came and went so often and was so quiet that she barely knew she was there. Still, though, she felt safe with her too.
Sarah turned her head toward the direction of the warm, green, haven. It seemed closer now and for a moment she was grateful because she didn't know how she'd travel there on her own. The way back to her friend, however, had grown farther and farther away and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't make herself move. Finally she just curled up into a little ball, while the green crept closer and closer.
Harm's POV
It's after midnight now, and I know I've reached the day when my best friend dies. My best friend, and the woman I love more than anything, the single best thing that's ever happened in my life is going to leave me. I feel an elephant settle on my chest and I wonder for a moment if I'm having a heart attack. It flits through my mind that I should call someone, but honestly, why bother? I don't care if I die. Not now. Not ever. They say time heals these things…time, and Frank, healed my mother…but I know it won't heal me.
"Mac, baby…if you're still there, sweetheart, give me a sign. Give me something that tells them you aren't ready to go. Squeeze my hand, open your eyes, do something…anything…sweetheart…" I hold Mac's lifeless hand as I've done so many times, pressing kisses to it, stroking it, holding it to my cheek. Now I cry over it until I can't even sit up straight. I press my face into her shoulder and sob, soaking her gown as I say her name over and over. This can't be the end. It can't be.
Please, Mac…
Maybe Uncle Walter is just waiting for you to ask him to help Mac…
Uncle Walter…
Walter Wiggins…
Chaplain Wiggins…
Padre…
Maybe if he asked the padre himself…
Having nothing to lose, Harm did just that.
"Chaplain Wiggins…help me. Help her. Please."
Mac's Dream
Sarah pulled herself out of her tight ball only enough to see where the green warmth was. She saw it was only a foot or so away—close enough for her to touch it if she just reached her hand out. It was time, she supposed…she'd stayed here long enough and didn't have the strength to go further. Reaching out to the peace offered by the warm place was all she could really do. She pulled her arm out from under her and began to reach toward it, was almost there…
And then she was yanked back.
She cried out, afraid, but then she felt herself being lifted into strong, safe arms. It was the padre and he was carrying her away from the warm place.
"Padre, what's happening? What are you doing?"
"I'm helping your friend."
"He asked?"
"He asked…and there he is, waiting for you."
Sarah turned her head from where it rested on Padre's chest. Sure enough, there he was, light all around him. He was dressed in the whitest of white uniforms and gold wings shone from where they were pinned to his chest. He held his arms toward her, and then he was lifting her from Padre's arms.
Harm's POV
Harm awoke with a start. He'd been dreaming…he'd dreamt that a child who looked like Mac was being carried toward him by a man in battle gear. As the man grew closer, Harm reached out, but when he took the little girl in his arms, she wasn't a little girl. It was Mac, his Mac, and with a happy laugh, she wrapped her arms around him.
Though he'd startled awake, he'd awoken with a smile…Mac was here with him again. She was in his arms…
But then he saw where he was and remembered…his Mac was leaving him. His Mac who's toenails were still painted in her favorite shad of red. Mac, who'd lied about the number of tattoos she had—there was one on her inner ankle, a small rose that she must have been covering up with makeup all this time. Mac, who's chest rose and fell and shuddered a bit as the ventilator did its work. Mac, who's chocolate amber eyes stared back at him…
Wait…
Her eyes…staring…back…
Mac was awake….
"Mac? Mac? You're awake? I need—I need to call y-your n-nurse…"
Harm stood up, frantic now, unable to find Mac's call button. Mac was awake! And her eyes…they were following him…following him. Harm's legs suddenly turned to jello and he collapsed back down in his chair. "Oh, Mac," he sobbed, reaching for her hand. As he picked it up, it squeezed his fingers ever so lightly, but he felt it nonetheless, and when he looked back up into her eyes, he knew she still knew who she was, who he was. Tears started leaking from those beautiful chocolate orbs, and he was dismayed to see fear settle in. He hit the call button, which had always been right in front of him, told the nurse Mac was awake, then turned back to the woman who still held his heart. He brushed her tears aside then rested his hand against her cheek.
"It's okay, Mac. It's okay. I'm here. I'll always be here. You don't have to be afraid. I'm here…"
End Chapter 11