This chapters deals with and talks about 9/11. Just letting you guys know in case anyone isn't comfortable with reading.

-Harper

Chapter Twenty
Tragedy

WEEK 15
SEPTEMBER 11TH, 2001

0445 EST
APARTMENT OF SARAH MACKENZIE

GEORGETOWN

Even after six years, Harm still put in ten miles every morning. The only difference now was that he did grant himself the luxury of taking weekends off. Mac was jealous; she missed running more than anything.

Mac felt Harm stretch out beside her. He turned over and kissed her cheek.

"I'm going for a run," he murmured against her jaw, wrapping his arms around her for a quick hug before getting up to change. He always told her he was going for a run, even though Mac knew there was no other reason why Harm would be up before sunrise. He slept like a bear in hibernation.

"M'kay. Have fun," Mac replied sleepily, barely opening her eyes. Oftentimes, how much she missed running was overridden by how much she loved the extra sleep she could get.

Harm came back about an hour later, hopping into the shower. The sound of the shower was Mac's alarm; she always got up when Harm got in the shower. Sometimes she'd join him, but the night before she'd been up until almost midnight going over case files, so she stayed in bed that morning.

At 0630, Harm got out of the shower. He knew Mac liked long showers in the morning so he always shaved a few minutes off his own to give her as much time as she wanted.

He walked into the kitchen with a towel wrapped around his waist. Mac was sipping at her cup of coffee. She could have two a day without Harm completely flipping out. Mac usually usually had one at her place and saved the other for work.

Harm walked up, water droplets still dripping from his hair, and kissed her. "Good morning," he greeted gruffly.

"Morning."

"Shower's open," Harm said. "I can fix you up some breakfast while you're in there."

"Are you gonna have time?" she'd asked. "You have to leave in thirty minutes and you're not even dressed."

It was Harm's second day at Annapolis, so him being late wouldn't be a good look.

"I can multitask."

Mac smirked. "You can fix me a bowl of cereal," she said as she walked to the bathroom

"A bowl of cereal?"

"It's the only thing I can eat in the morning without throwing up immediately after."

Mac got out of the shower right before 0700. Harm was dressed, and Mac had a bowl of cereal waiting for her on his counter, per her request. Usually they left at the same time, but the commute to Annapolis was about 45 minutes; the commute to JAG was half that. When Harm took the job, Mac wasn't expecting to miss something as basic as leaving at the same time as him, but she still missed it.

While she was getting dressed, Harm came into the bedroom to say goodbye. He hugged her from behind, wrinkling the blouse she'd just smoothed out. Mac glared at him playfully through the mirror.

"Harm, you're going to be late," she said. He placed a kiss behind her ear.

"I love you."

"I love you too. I'll see you tonight."

0850 EST
CHLOE MADISON'S HIGH SCHOOL
BURLINGTON, VERMONT

It was the second week of Chloe's freshman year of high school, and she was in the middle of homeroom. That Tuesday morning was normal, if a bit boring. The most exciting thing happening to Chloe that morning was the prospect of Algebra class, and her excitement was more rooted in dread than anything else.

"Chloe," one of her friends tapped her on the shoulder. Chloe turned around.

"Yeah?"

"Are you going to the football game this Friday?" her friend, Bree, asked.

Chloe shrugged. "I don't know."

"Why not?" her other friend, Molly, asked.

"I just don't get football," Chloe said, wrinkling her nose a little. "None of it makes sense."

"It'll be fun, though," Bree said.

"Everyone's coming," Molly added.

Thinking it over for a few moments, Chloe finally nodded. "Alright," she said. She wasn't going to stay home if everyone was going to be there.

"Sweet," Bree smiled. "You can come over after school and get ready with us."

"I could do your makeup."

Chloe didn't hear Molly's comment, because she was too busy watching Nick, her biggest crush at the moment, walk towards her. Trying to discreetly fluff her hair and act natural, Chloe waited for him to reach her desk with butterflies in her stomach.

"Hey, did you guys hear what just happened?" he asked.

"No," Chloe shook her head. She was hoping their conversation would somehow lead to the football game.

"A plane hit one of the towers at the World Trade Center," Nick said. Chloe's eyes widened and Bree and Molly looked up.

"Wait, seriously?" Chloe sat up, algebra class and the Friday football game forgotten.

"What's the World Trade Center?" Bree asked.

"It's these two super tall buildings in New York City," Chloe explained. "I saw them last spring when my older sister took me to New York for spring break."

She was going to have to call Mac and tell her about her first high school football game, and about Nick.

Nick nodded. "Yeah, some plane just crashed into one of them. Mrs. Andrews is in the hallway talking about it with Mr. Johnson. It's all over the news."

"Was it on purpose?" Molly asked.

"No idea."

THAT SAME TIME
JAG HEADQUARTERS
FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA

Mac was pouring her second cup of coffee in the breakroom when Bud came in, his face white.

"What's wrong, Bud?" she asked, her tone joking, "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Ma'am, you should come see this."

Everyone thought it was an accident, but it became clear ten minutes later that it was no accident. Mac called Harm. There was no answer.

Then, exactly thirty five minutes later, less than fifteen minutes away from Falls Church, the Pentagon was hit, and the whole office went into a full panic, more so than it had been before.

Mac abandoned her cup of coffee in the breakroom. She locked herself in her office to call Harm.

She called him. He didn't answer.

She called him again. He didn't answer.

She called him a third time. He still didn't answer.

She began to wrack her brain. He didn't say anything about going to the Pentagon that day, had he? Of course he was safe at Annapolis. But what if he was in DC unexpectedly? What if-

If. If. If. There were too many ifs.

Being the four senior-most officers, Mac, Sturgis, Bud, and the Admiral had an impromptu meeting in the Admiral's office. The Admiral was pacing, obviously trying to hold it together even though it was obvious he wasn't holding it together any better than the rest of them. They were all panicking. Mac was sitting, even though technically she should be standing at attention. She hadn't even realized she was sitting.

"Sir, shouldn't we evacuate?" Sturgis asked.

"We need to stay contained," Bud answered for the Admiral, who was still pacing silently. "If everyone clears out of here like crazy it's gonna be a huge security risk."

Mac could hear, but what they were saying wasn't registering. Why didn't he answer? He always has his phone. Why didn't he answer?

"If we stay here we'll be sitting ducks," Sturgis replied. "We're ten miles away from DC If-" he swallowed. "If there are more planes out there headed for Washington they could easily-"

"What do you think, Mac?" the Admiral finally stopped pacing and looked at Mac. Bud and Sturgis looked at Mac as well.

She blinked at them. She should have an answer, or at least a suggestion. She wasn't the Chief of Staff for nothing. But she drew a blank. Marines were doers; she wasn't trained to draw blanks. She wasn't trained for this.

Why didn't he answer? Where is he? Is he alive?

"He hasn't answered," was all she had to offer. No one asked who she was talking about; they all knew.

"He hasn't answered," Mac repeated. "I've called him four times and he hasn't picked up."

There were a few seconds of silence.

"Mac," Sturgis said, but he spoke haltingly. "Annapolis is a forty minute drive from the Pentagon-"

"I know, Sturgis," Mac replied. Her tone could've had more bite behind it, but she didn't feel like biting. She felt terrified "But he hasn't answered. He always answers."

The Admiral took a deep breath. "Bud, Sturgis, go out and tell everyone to leave in a calm and orderly fashion," he said. "People need to be with their families right now."

Bud and Sturgis left without being properly dismissed, but the Admiral didn't seem to notice. He sat down across from Mac, drumming his fingers on his desk.

"What are you going to do, sir?" she asked, as if hearing what he was going to do would give her a suggestion on what she could do herself.

"Stay here," he said. "Wait for any news from SecNav to see what he wants me to do. Not that he'll have any clue either but…" his voice trailed off as he met her eyes. "You know, you can go home Colonel."

"I know," Mac nodded stiffly. "I can't go home, though. Not until I know anything."

"Colonel, you need to go home," the Admiral insisted. His tone wasn't demanding, but it was resolute nonetheless.

"I can't go home," Mac snapped. She looked down at her hands and wondered how long they'd been shaking. "Physically. I can't go home. If I try and drive right now, I'll wreck."

So, she didn't drive. The Admiral ended driving her back to her apartment. Mac had expected him to just drop her off, but he ended up coming inside with her.

"Sir, you don't need to sit with me," Mac had told him. "I'm fine."

"No Colonel, it's fine," he said. "I want to."

0945 EST
BETHESDA NAVAL HOSPITAL
BETHESDA, MARYLAND

In the ten minutes since it came across the news that the Pentagon had been hit, the hospital had gone from alarm to panic. People were rushing all over the place, but Nathan Gardner found himself rooted to the spot. He was on the maternity ward, which was probably the last place he should be considering he was a heart surgeon. He was standing outside the closed delivery room door, where his estranged wife was delivering a baby.

"Gardner, what the hell are you doing?" the chief of surgery, Dr. Stevenson, came storming out of the elevator, making a beeline for him. Still, Nathan didn't move.

"I've paged you five times, I need you down in the ER."

"She doesn't know yet," Nathan said, his eyes not leaving the delivery room door.

Dr. Stevenson stopped, following Nathan's gaze. "Who doesn't know?" he looked back at Nathan. "Melinda?"

Nathan nodded.

"About any of this?" Dr. Stevenson asked. Nathan nodded again.

"She had a scheduled c-section, then an emergency c-section, then she got pulled into this delivery. She's been too busy for anyone to tell her."

"Damn," Dr. Stevenson sighed. "You two are from Manhattan, right?"

"Melinda is," Nathan replied. "I just lived there. Her parents and our friends still-they still live there."

"Did any of them-"

"Work in the towers? No," Nathan took a deep breath. "But I still haven't been able to get ahold of any of them. Probably too much...stuff happening there, they probably can't talk on the phone."

"Damn."

"Yeah."

Dr. Stevenson sighed, looking at Nathan, then looking at the door. "I'll leave you to it," he said. "Just get down to ER as soon as you can. I have no idea what we're going to be looking at."

Nathan nodded. "Yes sir."

"And Nathan?"

"Sir?"

"I hope everything's alright."

"Me too."

So Nathan stood there, waiting until Melinda finally emerged from the delivery room. At first she didn't notice, taking off her scrub cap and pulling her hair out of its bun. As she shook out her hair, she finally looked up and saw him.

Melinda paused, frowning in confusion. "Nathan?"

"Mel, we need to talk."

He reached out to put his arm around her, but she instantly recoiled. The husband who had moved cities to get away from her was now trying to hug her. And he was calling her by her nickname.

"What are you doing?" she asked. "Did someone die? Why are you being nice to me?"

Nathan's expression didn't change, and Melinda felt her stomach drop. "Oh God-Did some die? Nathan-"

"We just need to talk, okay?"

1200 EST
APARTMENT OF SARAH MACKENZIE
GEORGETOWN

They sat in her living room. Mac was on the sofa, and the Admiral was in an armchair. He'd turned the TV on for about thirty seconds before turning it off. After that, they just sat in silence. Mac thought vaguely of calling Harm again, but she didn't believe she could think straight long enough to dial his number.

She was still in her uniform. She didn't want to change into more comfortable clothes; she was already so uncomfortable that her clothes wouldn't make a difference.

"I can't do this without him," Mac finally said after almost an hour of silence, her voice barely above a whisper.

"What?" the Admiral looked up from the hands clasped in his lap. Mac wasn't sure if he hadn't heard or if he just wanted her to clarify.

"I can't be a mother without him."

Mac finally remembered she was pregnant. In all the chaos, she'd forgotten the most polarizing aspect of her life.

"Mac-" the Admiral started.

"No," she shook her head. "I can't have this baby without him. I need him. Our baby needs him."

"Mac," the Admiral stood up and walked over to the sofa, sitting down beside her. He took her hand in his. She tried to pull away, but he held fast.

"It's just-it's just-" Mac tried to swallow down her tears, but it soon proved to be impossible. As she spoke, her voice trembling, tears began to flow freely down her cheeks.

"Harm-he grew up without a father, he knows what it's like. And-and-if our kid has to grow up without a dad too...He would hate it. Harm would hate it. Not being there for our kid-"

"Don't talk like that yet. We don't know anything," The Admiral tried to keep his own fear from showing.

Rabb was a lot of things, but he always answered the damn phone. At least whenever Mac would call, he would. It was an ongoing joke around the office. Even before Harm and Mac got together, if he was on TAD and the Admiral needed to get ahold of him, he would have Mac call him because Harm would always, without fail, answer the phone when Mac called.

"What if the baby has his eyes? Or his smile?" Mac asked, looking up at the Admiral with wide, tear-filled eyes. "How am I going to look at someone who's half him, knowing that he'll never get to meet them?"

AJ tried to find something to say, but he found his voice failing him. She was looking to him for answers, for anything, but he had nothing to give her. He had no answers. Not for Mac, not for this day, not for anything.

So they sat. They sat in silence for about another half hour until finally they heard a pair of footsteps barreling down the hall outside.

Harm burst into the apartment, looking around wildly until his eyes finally landed on Mac. She got up and rushed to him, Harm pulling her into a bone-crushing hug. As they embraced, AJ let go of the breath he'd been holding since 0846 that morning.

"Oh God, Mac," Harm said, his voice muffled by her hair. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. My phone was dead, and they had us on lockdown at Annapolis, so I couldn't come sooner. I went to the office but no one was there and.."

He pulled back, cupping both hands on either side of Mac's face. She let out a shuddering breath as Harm swiped away a stray tear with his thumb. "Are you okay?" he asked, holding her out at arm's length and looking her over.

Mac nodded. "I'm fine," she pulled him close to her again, fearing he would disappear if she didn't cling to him.

"The baby-"

"We're fine," she answered, nodding furiously. "We're all fine."

The Admiral left soon after after establishing that they were both okay. The first thing he did when he got to his car was call Francesca.

Harm and Mac spent most of that afternoon glued to the TV, like millions of others across the country, until they finally couldn't stand to watch it anymore. Later, Mac lashed out at Harm over a dinner that neither of them were able to eat, demanding to know why Harm hadn't charged his phone, or found some other way to contact her. She wasn't truly angry, just so scared of how she'd almost lost him. They'd both broke down after that, crying together

They ended up at Harm's place because he needed to get his phone charger. They ended up deciding to stay the night because they were both utterly exhausted.

SEPTEMBER 12TH, 2001

0030 EST
APARTMENT OF HARMON RABB
WASHINGTON DC

Mac shouldn't be sleeping. Well, she should be sleeping, and she was, but she felt like she shouldn't. She felt like she should be doing something; she was a Marine, marines took action. But there was nothing she could do. Marines also were supposed to be tough, but Mac felt utterly powerless curled up in Harm's bed that night.

She turned over, drawing her knees up to her chest. It wasn't the most comfortable position (Mac never liked sleeping scrunched up, even before she got pregnant), but it was more of a protective position. Mac's knowledge of science was rusty, but she did know that the fetal position's purpose was for warmth and protection of vital organs.

The 'vital organ' Mac was protecting (she wasn't even sure it could be classified as an organ) was her baby. She knew it was ridiculous to feel the need to protect herself; she was perfectly safe in Harm's apartment. The world outside of his apartment might be a different story, but in here she was safe. Harm was safe. Their baby was safe.

Mac reached down, pressing her hand against her stomach. We're okay, she told herself, we're all okay.

Harm wasn't in bed, which Mac would've found alarming if the lamp being on in the living room hadn't given her a clue as to where he was.

Slowly, Mac uncurled herself and stepped out of bed, her toes recoiling against the cold hardwood floor. The first signs of fall were finally beginning to show, and while it was still pretty warm during the day, the nights were starting to get chilly. Mac was grateful summer was ending; it was an extremely overrated season in her opinion.

She grew up in Arizona, where the heat was unbearable, dry, and so intense that the air was practically buzzing with it. The heat in Virginia wasn't the same kind of heat as Arizona heat, but it was still just as bad. Virginia heat was damp, sticky, and oppressive. The humidity was damn near enough to make her poker-straight hair curl. That summer was particularly uncomfortable, with her usual dislike of the heat combined with the nausea and discomfort of first trimester pregnancy.

Her favorite season was always fall. She liked the leaves changing color (Yes, she knew what a cliche that was), the amicable climate, and how things seemed to slow down. It was nice lul between summer vacation and the holidays. Plus her favorite holiday was Halloween, and a favorite sailor of hers had a birthday in October.

If yesterday had been remotely normal, she would've been excited for fall. But yesterday wasn't normal.

As Mac padded down the set of stairs that led up to Harm's bedroom, the gentle strumming of guitar strings met her ears. She should've known he'd be up playing his guitar. Harm always played guitar when he needed a good distraction.

Harm looked up at the sound of Mac's quiet footsteps and he stopped playing.

"Did I wake you?" he asked.

Mac shook her head. "No, I couldn't sleep. How long have you been up?"

"I never went to sleep. I came out here as soon as you fell asleep," Harm answered. "I knew if I stayed in bed I'd just toss and turn."

"You need some rest, honey," she said. They weren't usually big on pet names, but she liked the idea of Harm being her honey. "I know it seems hard right now to relax, but-"

Harm shook his head, cutting her off. "I'll be fine. You need the rest more."

Mac smiled. The world may be falling down around their ears, but her stubborn sailor was still her stubborn sailor. "Do you wanna talk?"

"There's too much to talk about."

Mac nodded. She knew exactly what he meant. It was impossible to wrap her head around what happened, and what still might happen. She was a methodical person; she liked having a plan and sticking it to it. The uncertainty that settled into her heart and into the heart of millions of others was a feeling Mac hated. For once, she was glad Harm didn't have a TV. It felt like she watched more news in the past twelve hours than she had in the past decade.

Harm reached out and pulled Mac towards him, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her. It was kind of awkward, considering she was standing and he was sitting, but it was one of the more comforting experiences from the past day, so Mac didn't mind.

"I'm sorry, Mac," Harm murmured, his voice so quiet that Mac barely heard him.

She looked down at him, running her fingers through his hair. He met her gaze, his blue eyes shining.

"Don't be sorry, Harm," Mac answered softly, knowing he was still beating himself up for scaring her earlier. Her Harm. Her honey. "None of this is your fault."

"I know," Harm swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat. "Mac, you know I would do anything to keep you and this baby safe, right?"

"Of course, Harm, I know that," Mac said. "But there's some things you just can't control."

"That's what scares me."

"It scares me too," Mac agreed softly. Gently, she grabbed both of his hands. "Why don't come to bed?"

"Mac-"

"It's been a long day. You need to rest," Mac was insistent. She knew Harm was exhausted, and it wouldn't take long for him to give in.

Harm finally stood up. "Yeah...I don't know if I'll be able to sleep, though."

"That's okay," Mac replied. "Just be with me. That's all I want."