Sorry for the delay...the muse has been tired of late. She falls asleep writing...poor thing.

CHAPTER 12 - Stay

Wanna believe that gravity

Never get hold of you and me

Yeah I'm faded in this fantasy

Yeah we could stay

So come on over, pull me closer - Nicky Romero

Something feels very, very off. I'm not in my own bed, given by the feel of a mattress that is far less firm and feels like it's cocooning my body. The scent is different when I turn my head into the pillow and take a deep breath. It smells clean, masculine and gives me a sense of comfort I didn't feel in my own home any more.

A sound from the bathroom makes my eyes flutter open and I wake to stare up at the high ceiling with thick wood rafters of Harm's loft. It's peaceful here, less hustle than the streets of Georgetown with cars constantly passing by. North of Union Station is serene and still despite the less than perfect neighborhood that surrounds it.

I hear him in the bathroom, the sound of the faucet running and for some reason, I get a flash of anxiety. "Harm? Is everything okay?"

I hate that my voice sounds so fragile and unrecognizable. I also hate this feeling of helplessness that forced me to ask for his help. I hate that I need him, because I do. As much as I hate to admit it, he brings me peace.

"Yeah. Just using the head. Did I wake you?"

He didn't and I come up to my elbows to see him better while slowly shaking my head. "I never really sleep much throughout the night anyway. Not even when I was a kid."

Harm stands at the foot of the bed, his arms folded across his chest as if he's working up the courage to say something. He's struggling, I know because as man of action it's impossible for him to just stand by and do nothing.

I don't want to be his latest project or the latest subject of his obsessions. I just want...damnit, I don't know what I want anymore. That torch I carried for him had nearly extinguished but the tiniest of flames still burned.

"Go back to sleep." His posture is different, shoulders a little slumped, his face hidden by shadows. If I could see his eyes I'm sure they'd be a dark grey. A potent sense of grief and pain grows within and I hate him for making me feel this fresh brand of guilt.

I feel guilty for hurting him. I feel guilty for avoiding those seventeen messages. I feel guilty for nearly hitting rock bottom and calling him to help. It's pathetic and I hate myself for feeling how I do. I hate this swirling tornado of emotions that I can't stop from spinning.

I hate this silence that envelops us until it spawns a fresh blanket of tension that weighs down on the two of us. I hate the way Harm sighs heavily, like his world is falling apart before he wishes me a goodnight. What I hate the most is the sound of my own voice when I speak.

He was halfway down the steps and the words were spoken so low I was sure he'd miss it. And if Harm hadn't heard, I knew I lacked the courage to ask again. "Don't go."

I hear his footsteps pause, the creaking wood of his floor betrays him as he turns and slowly stalks up the steps.

"Stay...Stay here, with me…" Wordlessly he turns away and my heart plummets into the depth of my stomach when I hear him getting farther and farther away. The embarrassment I feel is short lived as is the impulse to run away from here and never look back.

When he returns I find a blanket draped over his shoulder and a pillow tucked under an arm. He doesn't say a thing as he lays next to me, taking a few minutes to arrange his side of the bed until I hear his breath even out.

The warmth of his body is hard to miss despite the chasm between us or the fact that our bodies have not touched. It's that heat that I crave, no, not the melding of bodies but that absolute feeling of safety, of warmth.

I think back to the first time I slept in his arms. A poacher had shot me, my leg had lost enough blood that I began to feel woozy. As the temperatures dropped, Harm decked out our shelter with spruce and pines that he used to create our bough bed.

Although we slept on the ground, the springy limbs made it comfortable and cozy. He didn't ask, simply wrapped his body around mine as we lay face to face. One of his legs draped over my hip and the heat from his body kept me warm through the night. That was the very moment I knew I'd fallen in love with him.

I miss that simplicity of our relationship where we just cared for one another before various significant others clouded our judgement. I miss my best friend. I miss my lover and the man that falls somewhere in between. I miss him and I hate that I do.

It's that flash of desperation which forces me to turn his way. In the near darkness I stare at his back and blink away the tears forming at the edges of my eyes. "Hold me.. Please, hold me."

I must be insane. I must have hit rock bottom to request such a thing and although I try to bite my tongue, I beg for him again. "Please hold me."

Quietly he moves, the mattress depressing under his weight as he turns and scoots closer. He slips beneath the comforter that covers me and I feel the warmth of his body, the heat of his skin. An arm wraps over my middle, one leg drapes over my thigh. His body is big and heavy, cocooning me, sheltering me. I'm falling for him all over again.

"Is this okay?" He asks and my traitorous body replies by snuggling closer, leaning my head against his chin. I give myself to him and the peace Harm offers without question. I want to stop this, to push him away, to run...I have to run, I need to run...because falling for him means pain. Then his lips brush the top of my head and my eyes grow far too heavy for me to stay awake.

"Morning, beautiful." Harm's voice is rough from sleep and maybe a little bit sexy, if I'm being honest. It makes my tummy do little flip flops and that anxiety ruffles up to the surface with a vengeance that has me frantically trying to pull out of his embrace.

Stop! Stop it! A voice in my head chastices and I find I'm far too exhausted to fight. Instead I cling to him like he's my anchor and let whatever this is pass while Harm says something soothing in that soft, sexy voice. "I shouldn't have called you."

"I'm glad you did. You needed...someone and no matter what happens between us, I'll never abandon you."

Never. There's that word again hanging between us with that twinge of malevolence. "I don't want your pity."

"It's not pity, Mac."

"Then it's a weakness. I hate that you've seen me like that, so weak...so...nothing."

He sighs heavily, a sign he's upset and trying to temper down that emotion for some reason. Instead, he lets a hand glide across my back in up and down strokes that feel so heavenly, so comforting my eyes flutter closed again. "You stopped yourself from drinking. You called for help. A weak person would have just given in."

It wasn't about the bottle of vodka I bought or the desire to drown myself in the sweet relief it offered. My weakness had many forms including the night I seduced him, the night I brought his hand to my throat and urged him to squeeze. That memory has me swallowing hard. "I'm scared."

"I won't let you fall, Mac. I swear it." He shifts again, brings me impossibly closer and I feel the comforter being tucked around my body. He must have felt me shiver. "Are you warm enough?"

"Yes."

"Go back to sleep….I'm not going anywhere." I want him to kiss me. He doesn't but that's okay, Harm shouldn't be mixed up with me as much as he is. When he falls asleep, I'll leave...I'll leave and never come back.

I spent the morning trading between deep, dreamless sleeps and being awake. He didn't leave me, not once until just before noon when my bladder wouldn't let le rest any longer and Harm stalked to the kitchen while I used the head and showered.

When I emerged from his bathroom my desire for a hasty retreat stopped the very second I smelled what he had whipped up. "Mac and cheese?:

He grins and nods enthusiastically. "I may have kept a few boxes from when we were uh...from when we were seeing each other." His last sentence is somber as he remembers the break up, the never that came with it. I know I hurt him. badly but it seemed to be the responsible thing to do.

Maybe I was wrong? Maybe. But, I far too messed up to drag him down with me. "I think I should go."

God bless the man, he actually set the table, placed the utensils, the glassware and even the cloth napkins along with a single white candle that he's just lit. He straightens one of the glasses, a water goblet that is far too ornate for a quick lunch and then places his hands flat on the glass surface. "It's pouring."

I follow his gaze to glance out the kitchen window and find the wet stuff coming down in sheets. Crap. I bite back a sigh and shrug. "I'll just call a cab. I've bothered you enough."

But as I make a beeline for the phone on his desk, Harm races across the apartment and blocks my path. His hands come to my shoulders and he none too gently gives me a shove that would have knocked me on my ass had his grip not kept me upright. "Where you gonna go, Mac? Back to your apartment which smells so foul I'm surprised you're not sick!"

"Please. It's not that bad." Only it is and my only reprieve comes from the balcony where I've spent far too much time.

"Not that bad? It's terrible! Webb's people did a piss poor job! I'dve...I'd…"

"You'd what? It's not your problem. I'm not your problem and if you would-mmmm."

His lips find mine and Harm stops my tirade by kissing me. It's an easy feat considering his hands hadn't yet released my shoulders until his mouth took mine. Now they splayed against my back, his strong arms all but molding me against him. Even if I wanted to pull away, the feelings he awakens in me are hard to ignore.

"You are my problem. I love you, Mac." I'm a little dizzy because my world has once again shifted on its axis.God, why does he have to feel so good? Why do his touch and his kisses make me feel things I don't want to. I don't want to love him. I shouldn't love him.

He stares at me like he's searching for answers in my eyes, answers I can't give him. I'm at a loss as how to reply and so he kisses me again. I'm powerless to stop myself from kissing him back and stand there clunching the front of his black t-shirt. "Tell me you don't love me and I'll let you go."

I can't tell him because it wouldn't be true. With an unladylike snort I push at him, struggle out of his embrace and take the few steps back I needed to clear this haze. I told him once that we were through, sold him on the idea that I didn't love him. He took it to heart, pouted, brooded and was angered by my actions.

I told him once that I didn't love him. Why can't I do it now? "Harm, don't do this."

"Tell me."

He's grabbing my shoulders again, forcing me to look at him though I definitely turn my head away. It's the unshed tears stinging the corners of my eyes that betray me when not one but two drops fall unchecked. "I'm broken. I'm so fucking broken. I can't give you what you want. I'm not the same woman you knew. Something terrible happened to me and I don't have the strength to fight it off anymore."

The purge was inevitable, I guess. As was his need to care for me, to protect me. Harm guides me to the sofa and I crash down into it burying my face in my hands but my sobs pitifully escape. He doesn't touch me. He doesn't speak only sits by and watches as I finally break completely.

It's nearly an hour later when he places an opened bottle of water in my hand and I drain most of it in just a few gulps. "I still don't pity you."

"And I'm still broken...Maybe I was born broken?"

"Oh Mac. I'm broken too." When his large hand presses against my cheek, I can't help but sigh. This is the man I've always wanted. The Butch to my Sundance. The Batman to my Robin. I've seen sides of him no one else has like the kind soul that would die to protect the ones he loves.

"Harm...I-"

Harm's hands cradle my face with such a delicate touch it makes my heart skip a beat. "Stop fighting me... Let's be broken together."

I try to muster one last rebuttal but it's quickly silenced when his lips meet mine again. I find some of the pieces of my soul are mended just by the nearness of him. Despite the war in my head I give in, I stay.