Title: A TRIP TO AFGHANISTAN VIII
SESSIONS 2
Series: A Trip to Afghanistan
Author: Piper86
Email: improvkris@yahoo.com
Rating: R (adult situations)
Classification: Harm/Mac pairing, JAG story
Spoilers: Not this time
CHAPTER VIII: SESSIONS 2
It felt as if Dr. Lange had taken a club to her ribcage. Mac's heart started slamming in her chest, her stomach tightening into a knot. She staggered back a step before regaining something of her composure. Her hands clenched, and she could feel the sweat on her palms.
"Why, Sarah? Why can't you sleep?" the doctor pressed, moving even closer.
Mac took another step back, her eyes lowering to avoid the woman's gaze.
"I ... I'm NOT afraid ... "
"Oh, save it, Sarah," Dr. Lange interrupted, "You're not fooling me, and you're not fooling yourself either. And until you stop the bull and TALK to me, you're not going to be able to get past any of this, no matter HOW you try and convince yourself otherwise."
Mac jumped as she ran into something behind her. Her hands flew back, and she realized she had backed up against the wall. Dr. Lange had not moved. Her words had been enough to drive Mac across the room.
She didn't want to face what the doctor was saying. She fought to hang onto the thick walls of denial she had so carefully built, only to find them paper thin and wavering under Dr. Lange's onslaught.
Tears welled in her eyes, and she blinked hard and fast to control them. She would NOT lose face again. Could not lose control again.
The older woman watched as Mac struggled desperately with herself. The doctor's steely gaze softened, her heart wrenching at the battle raging in the Marine Colonel. Cautiously, she approached Mac.
"Sarah, I cannot begin to pretend I know what it was like for you in that interrogation room. You were thrown into a dark place, and I know it haunts you. I can see it, and I think you can too.
What I ask is this, Sarah. Let me help you out of the darkness. Trust me to be there with you to face it, and together we'll walk back into the daylight.
I promise, Sarah."
Mac shrank back against as the doctor talked. She didn't dare close her eyes, for fear the darkness would consume her again. She felt weak, and used the wall to help her stay up. It was only after she had braced herself that she realized she'd been shaking her head.
"So hard ... "
"I know, Sarah, I know. Look, our time is up for today. I really want you to do some thinking before next time. When I see you again, I hope you will be willing ..."
The doctor did not finish the sentence.
The office door became Mac's sole purpose. She nodded briefly as she made a beeline for it, grasping the knob in both hands. She mumbled her consent to think, and then bolted from the room.
HARM'S APARTMENT
NORTH OF UNION STATION
ONE HOUR LATER
Mac had promised to do some serious thinking, but by the time she was able to escape the doctor, she wasn't thinking at all. Her mind was a hurricane, thoughts swirling and crashing around in her head. She vaguely remembered getting into her car, but did not remember how she'd ended up here.
But here she was, shaking and afraid. Curled up on the floor outside Harm's door. Frantically hoping he would be home soon. She pulled her knees up to her chin, wrapping her arms around them. Trying to still the rage inside her, she pressed her forehead against her knees, rocking back and forth.
Her head snapped up when she heard the elevator door slide open. Her eyes opened wide, eager to catch sight of him. But the elevator only produced a deliveryman, who glanced at Harm's door and then proceeded down the hallway. Mac's head drooped, and she squeezed her eyes shut.
Please, Harm.
She had no idea what time it was. Her internal clock refused to work. The shadows in the hallway grew longer. She scrambled along the floor, pushing backwards into a pool of light from a bulb overhead. She stared blankly as the shadows increased, stopped by the artificial light above her. She continued to stare at the shadows on the floor, wrapping her arms tighter around her knees ... rocking.
A warm hand brushed the side of her face. She had to fight to tear her eyes away from the floor. Harm was kneeling beside her, his face full of concern.
"Mac? You OK?"
She did not respond immediately, only blinking at him. Her eyes were sunken.
"Mac? Sarah? Can you talk?"
She felt a hot tear slide down her face. All she could do was shake her head.
"Come on, I'm getting you inside." Harm stood up, taking her hand and wrapping one arm around her back.
She felt dizzy and swayed, gripping his hand and pressing against him. Without a word, he pulled her close to his chest, letting her rest her head on him while he fumbled with the key to his door.
A rush of warmth hit them both in the face as Harm ushered her into the apartment. The warm air of the room was a stark contrast to the chill in the hallway. Harm moved them both over to the couch, and Mac felt the soft cushions catching her.
Harm was gently rubbing her hands.
"Mac, you're freezing. Why didn't you call my cell? I would have met you here earlier."
"I ... couldn't ... didn't know where else to go..." her voice barely a whisper.
"Sarah, you always have somewhere to go. You always have somewhere to be. And it's with me. You know that, don't you?"
Mac felt him lifting her chin, and flushed at the sight of him. She reached up and stroked the side of his face, drawing on his strength.
"Harm ... "
She was shivering, her skin like ice. Harm pulled away from her, leaning back on his knees and frowning. He then stood up, and disappeared into the bedroom. Her eyes followed him, not wanting to lose track. After a few minutes he emerged and took her by the arm, pulling her off the couch.
He escorted her to his shower, surrounded by thick glass bricks. He had pulled some old clothes out and laid them on his bed. T-shirt, sweat-shirt, sweatpants, all pretty worn out but clean.
"Sarah, there are fresh towels around the corner, and plenty of hot water. We need to get you warm. You take whatever time you need. I'm going to see about getting some hot food in you. Then we can talk."
He walked out, heading toward the kitchen. She hesitated. Looking around the room, and finally at the shower, she suddenly felt even colder. She walked around the glass wall, discovering the shower stall and a small stand with towels waiting. She shuddered with relief, realizing there were no mirrors anywhere.
She stripped off her clothes and let the hot water work its magic on her aching body. It streamed over her, snaking its way down to her feet. After a long while, she reluctantly turned off the water. Hot steam rose from her skin, and she watched it dissipate in the light from the bedside lamp.
Taking one of the towels, she quickly dried herself. She took another and toweled her hair, dropping both into Harm's laundry basket when she finished.
She attempted to put her uniform back on, unsure about dressing in Harm's clothes. But it felt so uncomfortable and stiff. She wanted to be able to move. To feel ... free.
She layered herself with the t-shirt and sweats. Everything was too big, and she had to push up the sleeves of the sweatshirt and the cuffs of the pants. The socks were ridiculously large, so she opted to go barefoot.
She emerged from the bedroom and headed for the kitchen counter, where Harm was busy preparing dinner. He looked up and smiled as he saw her approach.
"You look SO much better. How do you feel?"
"Better," she nodded, sliding onto one of the stools.
Harm continued to stir the soup he was reheating. "Want to tell me about it?"
"Not particularly," Mac answered with a hard laugh.
"Why not?"
"It's nothing. Just a little misunderstanding between me and Dr. Lange."
"Maaaaac ... don't do that. Talk to me."
Mac could feel her lip trembling. She bit down on it, hard. She tasted copper in her mouth. Harm was still staring at her, with that same focus she admired in the courtroom and hated when it was directed at her.
Harm turned the heat off on the stove. He walked around the counter, leaning against it and pulling Mac into his arms. She felt his chest moving as he breathed, not saying anything else. Just holding her.
The tears came before she could stop them. Soon his shirt was wet, and she held parts of it in her fists. His hand smoothed over her wet hair, the other hugging her tightly.
"It's all right, Sarah. It's all right."
She pushed his chest, pulling back to look up at him. She shook her head, knowing that nothing was all right.
"Harm ... I can't. I can't do what she wants me to do."
"What is it?" he whispered.
"I can't go into that darkness. I can't keep going back to it over and over. It's always there, Harm. I can feel it now. It's waiting for me, waiting and watching. Oh, God!"
She broke away from him, turning and pressing her face into her hands. She felt Harm pressing behind her. But she couldn't look at him. She wrapped her arms around her chest, talking with her back to him.
"She says I can get past this, but how can I?! I've been branded," she touched her chest and abdomen as she continued, "permanent reminders everywhere I look. And she knows I can't look."
Harm's warm hands squeezed her shoulders and then slid gently up and down her arms.
"Sarah, let me see."
She spun around, stunned.
"Wha ... WHAT?"
"Let me see. I want to see." His eyes were full and intense.
"Harm, no ... please ..."
But he had already turned her around. She felt his hands move from her arms to her waist. A new warmth spread from his palms, more heated than comforting. She felt his fingers on the skin of her lower back.
The sweatshirt slowly moved up her body, and over her head. She felt it brush her pantleg as it dropped to the floor. She closed her eyes, dreading what he would see if he continued, but also afraid he would stop.
The t-shirt began to slide up her skin. It stopped halfway, and she held her breath. She heard his breathing quicken, and a short gasp as his eyes fell on the edges of the scars on her back. She thought he would stop in disgust. Time froze. And then she felt the t-shirt start to move again.
Harm pulled the t-shirt completely free, handing it to her instead of dropping it. She understood, taking it and covering her chest. Her heart pounded as she felt his eyes on her damaged back.
She felt his fingertips starting to trace the outlines of the jagged scars. He was so gentle, eventually flattening his hand and caressing her with his palm.
"Oh God ... oh, Sarah," he whispered, "what did they do to you..." the sadness in his voice tortured her.
She closed her eyes, clutching the shirt tighter as his hand moved in bigger and bigger patterns on her back. She felt as if he were trying to erase the scarring with his movements. She surrendered to the heat radiating through her body from where he touched her.
She was not prepared when he took his hands away from her, just long enough to shed his own shirt. She could feel his bare skin touching the backs of her arms. Then she felt his lips pressing gently at the top of one of her scars.
"ohhh..." she murmured, her eyes still closed.
"Sarah" his voice sounded deeper, hungry.
Mac felt herself giving way to his mouth as it gently traveled over her shoulder blades, his hands grasping her waist. The oversized sweatpants hung loosely on her hips, his fingers dipping just below the waistband.
She felt his lips sinking lower down her back, assaulting the next scar. She had never been treated so tenderly. Harm was sponging away the pain, cherishing the wounds as parts of her. A warm haze surrounded her, the only sensation coming from his contact.
His hands began to massage her hips. Slowly, the sweatpants inched their lower. His thumbs caressed the newly exposed skin, urging the sweats even further down. Mac took a deep breath as she felt them finally slide the length of her legs, bunching at her feet. Harm's mouth was gently exploring the bottom of each scar along her lower back. He sank to his knees, hands sliding along the outside of her bare thighs.
"God ... Sarah ..." he moaned, sending shivers through her.
Mac continued to stand, moving slightly as his hands manipulated her body in stronger and stronger patterns. Her breath caught as she felt his fingers slip around to the front of her thighs. Instinct took over, and she widened her stance, placing her legs a little further apart. Harm's mouth had moved to the middle of her back, his tongue gently tracing the scar tissue there. She could feel his bare chest against her legs and buttocks, his hands now slowly stroking her inner thighs. She squirmed against him, feeling a wetness between her legs.
"Harm ... please ..." her voice barely a whisper. But she wasn't even sure what she was asking.
Harm responded immediately. She could feel him pull up to his full height behind her. His hands touched her shoulders, turning her to face him. She kept her eyes on his chest, unsure of herself. His fingers pressed under her chin, and as she met his gaze, she felt an overwhelming sense of peace. Everything she needed, or ever could need, was waiting there in his eyes.
He pulled her to him, the t-shirt now sandwiched between them. Mac didn't know what he was going to do next. But he just held her, stroking his broad hands slowly over her back. She pressed the side of her face against his chest, letting out a quiet sigh as he soothed her. Feeling the hardness of his chest through the cotton t, moving against her soft breasts. She could hear his strong heartbeat, and allowed herself to be lost in his embrace.
His hand burrowed between them, cupping one of her breasts, feeling its weight through the fabric. She tilted her head back, staring into his eyes. She let out a small sigh as his thumb began to caress her, closing her eyes. He pulled them apart a little, and she felt his hand move to her other breast. She felt his warm mouth covering one breast, the warmth burning through the cotton. She wanted to let go of the t-shirt, but her hands would not let it go. She so desperately wanted to let go of the t-shirt, but her hands would not let it go. Her mind was in turmoil. She could not let him see these scars ... she just couldn't.
She felt her hands being pulled, and opened her eyes to find Harm trying to break her grasp on the shirt. He was looking at her, and she could tell from his eyes that he was hungry for her. She refused to let go. He tried a different tack, placing his fingers once more on her inner thigh ... sliding them up slowly. She almost collapsed when he finally touched her center. He held onto her, and she held onto the shirt, her mind racing.
I can't. I can't.
Her eyes pleaded with his. She watched his expression fade from desire to concern as tears welled up and flooded from her eyes. She couldn't bear to watch him, shutting her eyes and cursing herself for what she knew she was doing to him.
She felt a tug and realized Harm was directing them to the couch. He eased her down, letting her lie back against the cushions. He reached down and retrieved the sweatshirt and pants, silently helping her dress. Once they were on, she was able to remove the t-shirt from underneath. She looked up at him, grateful.
Harm settled down next to her on the couch, encouraging her to rest her head on his bare chest again. She complied, one arm resting across his stomach, her fingers lacing with his. Harm sat quietly, his free hand stroking her hair. Cuddling against him, Mac drifted to sleep.
--------
Harm kept as still as he could, not wanting to disturb Mac's sleep. It had been so long since he'd seen her even try to relax. She held herself so tensely, always on her guard. Expecting an attack at any moment.
The last half hour had been a blessing and a curse for him. He relished being able to touch her, but the scar tissue all over her back had twisted his gut. At first sight of them, he was right back in the interrogation room, the razor blades on the floor...
He hadn't known what else to do. All he wanted was to show Mac how much he was feeling at that moment. Touching her had seemed so ... right. He hoped that he hadn't pushed her too far, fearing that she would not forgive him for trying to see all of her. Her response confirmed what he already knew - she needed him, and he swore to himself that he would be there for her, forever.
Looking down at sleeping form, the top of her head under his hand, he was gripped with an emotion he almost couldn't handle. The hell that she endured had been for him. Yet here she was, so open and so soft. He didn't know how she could even speak to him, much less love him. He leaned forward and kissed her head, his fingers lazily tracing the back of her neck. His eyes growing heavy, Harm let his head recline on the back of the couch. He blinked a few times, then let sleep take him.
Mac's screams woke him just a few minutes later. She was in a ball at the far end of the couch, pushing backwards with her feet. Her hands waved wildly in front of her, warding off some unseen assailant. Harm shook the sleep from his head, diving onto his knees beside Mac.
"SARAH! SARAH!"
Her terrified eyes were darting around the room. She was desperately trying to find something.
"SARAH PLEASE! WHAT? WHAT?!!"
"LIGHTS! OH GOD HARM TURN ON THE LIGHTS!!"
Harm scrambled for the floor lamp by the couch. He turned it on, then headed for the reading lamp. He kept a worried eye on Mac, who was shaking violently on the couch. Only when the entire apartment was ablaze did she even start to calm down.
Sweat poured off her ashen face. Her hair clung to her temples. Her fists were clenched so tightly, Harm had to use brute force to pry them open. When he took her hands, he saw blood on her palms. Her nails had dug into her skin. Mac was panting for breath, taking sharp, ragged breaths. Trying to calm herself.
Harm sat down carefully in front of her. God, she looked so lost. His heart broke for her, remembering the exhausted woman from just ten minutes ago, sleeping peacefully in his arms.
"Sarah, can you tell me?"
"Shadows. The shadows are everywhere," she croaked, "and I can't escape from them."
Mac looked at him, and he saw the agony in her face. It haunted him to see her so beaten down, her eyes sunken and on the verge of surrender.
"There's nowhere I can hide, Harm..."
Still shaking, she got up and went into his bedroom. In a few minutes she was back out, dressed in her own clothes. Her face was a mask of determination - the Marine in her again coming to her rescue.
Without another word, she walked to the door, opened it, and was gone.
ROCK CREEK PARK
PICNIC AREA
TWO DAYS LATER
"...and I was hoping she would come back last night, but she didn't. I wasn't sure if I should call her, reach out or ..." Harm slouched with his cover twirling in his hands.
Dr. Lange turned on the park bench to see him better.
"Harm, do you have any idea how important your acceptance of her is? I can understand your hesitation, but so far I think your instincts have been spot on."
Harm flashed a quick grin at her. "Really?"
"You gave her something she's not ready to give herself. I hope she uses it as a source of strength, a stepping stone..."
"But she's 'the only one who can help herself'" Harm quoted.
Dr. Lange gave him a playful thump on the shoulder. "Yes, that's right. And I'll thank you not to mock my advice, young man." She couldn't help but grin at him.
"Aye, Aye, Ma'am."
It felt good just to be able to talk about his own doubts with the doctor. He knew he had to be solid around Mac, for her sake, but inside he struggled with his own demons.
"Dr., what if she doesn't take the next step? I can't leave her out there all alone. She needs me."
"Yes, I agree with you. Sarah feels like she is adrift, trapped in a place where no one can help her. My job, and yours, is to convince her that she isn't alone. That she can get through this. That there is an end ..."
"... that she CAN escape the shadows." Harm interrupted.
"Shadows?"
"Something she said the other night, coming out of the nightmare. And I think I know what she's talking about. I've seen them, too."
Dr. Lange listened intently as Harm told her about his dreams in the desert, and his waking nightmare onboard the Henry. When he finished, the older woman remained silent for several minutes. Only then did she speak.
"I see ..." Harm looked up at her words, watching as she rose slowly from the bench, brushing her skirt as she stood.
"Harm, would you be willing to do something for me? A little experiment?"
Harm tilted his head, "Experiment?"
"Yes," Dr. Lange stood up, brushing her skirt.
"I have an idea on how we can get Sarah on the right track."
SESSIONS 2
Series: A Trip to Afghanistan
Author: Piper86
Email: improvkris@yahoo.com
Rating: R (adult situations)
Classification: Harm/Mac pairing, JAG story
Spoilers: Not this time
CHAPTER VIII: SESSIONS 2
It felt as if Dr. Lange had taken a club to her ribcage. Mac's heart started slamming in her chest, her stomach tightening into a knot. She staggered back a step before regaining something of her composure. Her hands clenched, and she could feel the sweat on her palms.
"Why, Sarah? Why can't you sleep?" the doctor pressed, moving even closer.
Mac took another step back, her eyes lowering to avoid the woman's gaze.
"I ... I'm NOT afraid ... "
"Oh, save it, Sarah," Dr. Lange interrupted, "You're not fooling me, and you're not fooling yourself either. And until you stop the bull and TALK to me, you're not going to be able to get past any of this, no matter HOW you try and convince yourself otherwise."
Mac jumped as she ran into something behind her. Her hands flew back, and she realized she had backed up against the wall. Dr. Lange had not moved. Her words had been enough to drive Mac across the room.
She didn't want to face what the doctor was saying. She fought to hang onto the thick walls of denial she had so carefully built, only to find them paper thin and wavering under Dr. Lange's onslaught.
Tears welled in her eyes, and she blinked hard and fast to control them. She would NOT lose face again. Could not lose control again.
The older woman watched as Mac struggled desperately with herself. The doctor's steely gaze softened, her heart wrenching at the battle raging in the Marine Colonel. Cautiously, she approached Mac.
"Sarah, I cannot begin to pretend I know what it was like for you in that interrogation room. You were thrown into a dark place, and I know it haunts you. I can see it, and I think you can too.
What I ask is this, Sarah. Let me help you out of the darkness. Trust me to be there with you to face it, and together we'll walk back into the daylight.
I promise, Sarah."
Mac shrank back against as the doctor talked. She didn't dare close her eyes, for fear the darkness would consume her again. She felt weak, and used the wall to help her stay up. It was only after she had braced herself that she realized she'd been shaking her head.
"So hard ... "
"I know, Sarah, I know. Look, our time is up for today. I really want you to do some thinking before next time. When I see you again, I hope you will be willing ..."
The doctor did not finish the sentence.
The office door became Mac's sole purpose. She nodded briefly as she made a beeline for it, grasping the knob in both hands. She mumbled her consent to think, and then bolted from the room.
HARM'S APARTMENT
NORTH OF UNION STATION
ONE HOUR LATER
Mac had promised to do some serious thinking, but by the time she was able to escape the doctor, she wasn't thinking at all. Her mind was a hurricane, thoughts swirling and crashing around in her head. She vaguely remembered getting into her car, but did not remember how she'd ended up here.
But here she was, shaking and afraid. Curled up on the floor outside Harm's door. Frantically hoping he would be home soon. She pulled her knees up to her chin, wrapping her arms around them. Trying to still the rage inside her, she pressed her forehead against her knees, rocking back and forth.
Her head snapped up when she heard the elevator door slide open. Her eyes opened wide, eager to catch sight of him. But the elevator only produced a deliveryman, who glanced at Harm's door and then proceeded down the hallway. Mac's head drooped, and she squeezed her eyes shut.
Please, Harm.
She had no idea what time it was. Her internal clock refused to work. The shadows in the hallway grew longer. She scrambled along the floor, pushing backwards into a pool of light from a bulb overhead. She stared blankly as the shadows increased, stopped by the artificial light above her. She continued to stare at the shadows on the floor, wrapping her arms tighter around her knees ... rocking.
A warm hand brushed the side of her face. She had to fight to tear her eyes away from the floor. Harm was kneeling beside her, his face full of concern.
"Mac? You OK?"
She did not respond immediately, only blinking at him. Her eyes were sunken.
"Mac? Sarah? Can you talk?"
She felt a hot tear slide down her face. All she could do was shake her head.
"Come on, I'm getting you inside." Harm stood up, taking her hand and wrapping one arm around her back.
She felt dizzy and swayed, gripping his hand and pressing against him. Without a word, he pulled her close to his chest, letting her rest her head on him while he fumbled with the key to his door.
A rush of warmth hit them both in the face as Harm ushered her into the apartment. The warm air of the room was a stark contrast to the chill in the hallway. Harm moved them both over to the couch, and Mac felt the soft cushions catching her.
Harm was gently rubbing her hands.
"Mac, you're freezing. Why didn't you call my cell? I would have met you here earlier."
"I ... couldn't ... didn't know where else to go..." her voice barely a whisper.
"Sarah, you always have somewhere to go. You always have somewhere to be. And it's with me. You know that, don't you?"
Mac felt him lifting her chin, and flushed at the sight of him. She reached up and stroked the side of his face, drawing on his strength.
"Harm ... "
She was shivering, her skin like ice. Harm pulled away from her, leaning back on his knees and frowning. He then stood up, and disappeared into the bedroom. Her eyes followed him, not wanting to lose track. After a few minutes he emerged and took her by the arm, pulling her off the couch.
He escorted her to his shower, surrounded by thick glass bricks. He had pulled some old clothes out and laid them on his bed. T-shirt, sweat-shirt, sweatpants, all pretty worn out but clean.
"Sarah, there are fresh towels around the corner, and plenty of hot water. We need to get you warm. You take whatever time you need. I'm going to see about getting some hot food in you. Then we can talk."
He walked out, heading toward the kitchen. She hesitated. Looking around the room, and finally at the shower, she suddenly felt even colder. She walked around the glass wall, discovering the shower stall and a small stand with towels waiting. She shuddered with relief, realizing there were no mirrors anywhere.
She stripped off her clothes and let the hot water work its magic on her aching body. It streamed over her, snaking its way down to her feet. After a long while, she reluctantly turned off the water. Hot steam rose from her skin, and she watched it dissipate in the light from the bedside lamp.
Taking one of the towels, she quickly dried herself. She took another and toweled her hair, dropping both into Harm's laundry basket when she finished.
She attempted to put her uniform back on, unsure about dressing in Harm's clothes. But it felt so uncomfortable and stiff. She wanted to be able to move. To feel ... free.
She layered herself with the t-shirt and sweats. Everything was too big, and she had to push up the sleeves of the sweatshirt and the cuffs of the pants. The socks were ridiculously large, so she opted to go barefoot.
She emerged from the bedroom and headed for the kitchen counter, where Harm was busy preparing dinner. He looked up and smiled as he saw her approach.
"You look SO much better. How do you feel?"
"Better," she nodded, sliding onto one of the stools.
Harm continued to stir the soup he was reheating. "Want to tell me about it?"
"Not particularly," Mac answered with a hard laugh.
"Why not?"
"It's nothing. Just a little misunderstanding between me and Dr. Lange."
"Maaaaac ... don't do that. Talk to me."
Mac could feel her lip trembling. She bit down on it, hard. She tasted copper in her mouth. Harm was still staring at her, with that same focus she admired in the courtroom and hated when it was directed at her.
Harm turned the heat off on the stove. He walked around the counter, leaning against it and pulling Mac into his arms. She felt his chest moving as he breathed, not saying anything else. Just holding her.
The tears came before she could stop them. Soon his shirt was wet, and she held parts of it in her fists. His hand smoothed over her wet hair, the other hugging her tightly.
"It's all right, Sarah. It's all right."
She pushed his chest, pulling back to look up at him. She shook her head, knowing that nothing was all right.
"Harm ... I can't. I can't do what she wants me to do."
"What is it?" he whispered.
"I can't go into that darkness. I can't keep going back to it over and over. It's always there, Harm. I can feel it now. It's waiting for me, waiting and watching. Oh, God!"
She broke away from him, turning and pressing her face into her hands. She felt Harm pressing behind her. But she couldn't look at him. She wrapped her arms around her chest, talking with her back to him.
"She says I can get past this, but how can I?! I've been branded," she touched her chest and abdomen as she continued, "permanent reminders everywhere I look. And she knows I can't look."
Harm's warm hands squeezed her shoulders and then slid gently up and down her arms.
"Sarah, let me see."
She spun around, stunned.
"Wha ... WHAT?"
"Let me see. I want to see." His eyes were full and intense.
"Harm, no ... please ..."
But he had already turned her around. She felt his hands move from her arms to her waist. A new warmth spread from his palms, more heated than comforting. She felt his fingers on the skin of her lower back.
The sweatshirt slowly moved up her body, and over her head. She felt it brush her pantleg as it dropped to the floor. She closed her eyes, dreading what he would see if he continued, but also afraid he would stop.
The t-shirt began to slide up her skin. It stopped halfway, and she held her breath. She heard his breathing quicken, and a short gasp as his eyes fell on the edges of the scars on her back. She thought he would stop in disgust. Time froze. And then she felt the t-shirt start to move again.
Harm pulled the t-shirt completely free, handing it to her instead of dropping it. She understood, taking it and covering her chest. Her heart pounded as she felt his eyes on her damaged back.
She felt his fingertips starting to trace the outlines of the jagged scars. He was so gentle, eventually flattening his hand and caressing her with his palm.
"Oh God ... oh, Sarah," he whispered, "what did they do to you..." the sadness in his voice tortured her.
She closed her eyes, clutching the shirt tighter as his hand moved in bigger and bigger patterns on her back. She felt as if he were trying to erase the scarring with his movements. She surrendered to the heat radiating through her body from where he touched her.
She was not prepared when he took his hands away from her, just long enough to shed his own shirt. She could feel his bare skin touching the backs of her arms. Then she felt his lips pressing gently at the top of one of her scars.
"ohhh..." she murmured, her eyes still closed.
"Sarah" his voice sounded deeper, hungry.
Mac felt herself giving way to his mouth as it gently traveled over her shoulder blades, his hands grasping her waist. The oversized sweatpants hung loosely on her hips, his fingers dipping just below the waistband.
She felt his lips sinking lower down her back, assaulting the next scar. She had never been treated so tenderly. Harm was sponging away the pain, cherishing the wounds as parts of her. A warm haze surrounded her, the only sensation coming from his contact.
His hands began to massage her hips. Slowly, the sweatpants inched their lower. His thumbs caressed the newly exposed skin, urging the sweats even further down. Mac took a deep breath as she felt them finally slide the length of her legs, bunching at her feet. Harm's mouth was gently exploring the bottom of each scar along her lower back. He sank to his knees, hands sliding along the outside of her bare thighs.
"God ... Sarah ..." he moaned, sending shivers through her.
Mac continued to stand, moving slightly as his hands manipulated her body in stronger and stronger patterns. Her breath caught as she felt his fingers slip around to the front of her thighs. Instinct took over, and she widened her stance, placing her legs a little further apart. Harm's mouth had moved to the middle of her back, his tongue gently tracing the scar tissue there. She could feel his bare chest against her legs and buttocks, his hands now slowly stroking her inner thighs. She squirmed against him, feeling a wetness between her legs.
"Harm ... please ..." her voice barely a whisper. But she wasn't even sure what she was asking.
Harm responded immediately. She could feel him pull up to his full height behind her. His hands touched her shoulders, turning her to face him. She kept her eyes on his chest, unsure of herself. His fingers pressed under her chin, and as she met his gaze, she felt an overwhelming sense of peace. Everything she needed, or ever could need, was waiting there in his eyes.
He pulled her to him, the t-shirt now sandwiched between them. Mac didn't know what he was going to do next. But he just held her, stroking his broad hands slowly over her back. She pressed the side of her face against his chest, letting out a quiet sigh as he soothed her. Feeling the hardness of his chest through the cotton t, moving against her soft breasts. She could hear his strong heartbeat, and allowed herself to be lost in his embrace.
His hand burrowed between them, cupping one of her breasts, feeling its weight through the fabric. She tilted her head back, staring into his eyes. She let out a small sigh as his thumb began to caress her, closing her eyes. He pulled them apart a little, and she felt his hand move to her other breast. She felt his warm mouth covering one breast, the warmth burning through the cotton. She wanted to let go of the t-shirt, but her hands would not let it go. She so desperately wanted to let go of the t-shirt, but her hands would not let it go. Her mind was in turmoil. She could not let him see these scars ... she just couldn't.
She felt her hands being pulled, and opened her eyes to find Harm trying to break her grasp on the shirt. He was looking at her, and she could tell from his eyes that he was hungry for her. She refused to let go. He tried a different tack, placing his fingers once more on her inner thigh ... sliding them up slowly. She almost collapsed when he finally touched her center. He held onto her, and she held onto the shirt, her mind racing.
I can't. I can't.
Her eyes pleaded with his. She watched his expression fade from desire to concern as tears welled up and flooded from her eyes. She couldn't bear to watch him, shutting her eyes and cursing herself for what she knew she was doing to him.
She felt a tug and realized Harm was directing them to the couch. He eased her down, letting her lie back against the cushions. He reached down and retrieved the sweatshirt and pants, silently helping her dress. Once they were on, she was able to remove the t-shirt from underneath. She looked up at him, grateful.
Harm settled down next to her on the couch, encouraging her to rest her head on his bare chest again. She complied, one arm resting across his stomach, her fingers lacing with his. Harm sat quietly, his free hand stroking her hair. Cuddling against him, Mac drifted to sleep.
--------
Harm kept as still as he could, not wanting to disturb Mac's sleep. It had been so long since he'd seen her even try to relax. She held herself so tensely, always on her guard. Expecting an attack at any moment.
The last half hour had been a blessing and a curse for him. He relished being able to touch her, but the scar tissue all over her back had twisted his gut. At first sight of them, he was right back in the interrogation room, the razor blades on the floor...
He hadn't known what else to do. All he wanted was to show Mac how much he was feeling at that moment. Touching her had seemed so ... right. He hoped that he hadn't pushed her too far, fearing that she would not forgive him for trying to see all of her. Her response confirmed what he already knew - she needed him, and he swore to himself that he would be there for her, forever.
Looking down at sleeping form, the top of her head under his hand, he was gripped with an emotion he almost couldn't handle. The hell that she endured had been for him. Yet here she was, so open and so soft. He didn't know how she could even speak to him, much less love him. He leaned forward and kissed her head, his fingers lazily tracing the back of her neck. His eyes growing heavy, Harm let his head recline on the back of the couch. He blinked a few times, then let sleep take him.
Mac's screams woke him just a few minutes later. She was in a ball at the far end of the couch, pushing backwards with her feet. Her hands waved wildly in front of her, warding off some unseen assailant. Harm shook the sleep from his head, diving onto his knees beside Mac.
"SARAH! SARAH!"
Her terrified eyes were darting around the room. She was desperately trying to find something.
"SARAH PLEASE! WHAT? WHAT?!!"
"LIGHTS! OH GOD HARM TURN ON THE LIGHTS!!"
Harm scrambled for the floor lamp by the couch. He turned it on, then headed for the reading lamp. He kept a worried eye on Mac, who was shaking violently on the couch. Only when the entire apartment was ablaze did she even start to calm down.
Sweat poured off her ashen face. Her hair clung to her temples. Her fists were clenched so tightly, Harm had to use brute force to pry them open. When he took her hands, he saw blood on her palms. Her nails had dug into her skin. Mac was panting for breath, taking sharp, ragged breaths. Trying to calm herself.
Harm sat down carefully in front of her. God, she looked so lost. His heart broke for her, remembering the exhausted woman from just ten minutes ago, sleeping peacefully in his arms.
"Sarah, can you tell me?"
"Shadows. The shadows are everywhere," she croaked, "and I can't escape from them."
Mac looked at him, and he saw the agony in her face. It haunted him to see her so beaten down, her eyes sunken and on the verge of surrender.
"There's nowhere I can hide, Harm..."
Still shaking, she got up and went into his bedroom. In a few minutes she was back out, dressed in her own clothes. Her face was a mask of determination - the Marine in her again coming to her rescue.
Without another word, she walked to the door, opened it, and was gone.
ROCK CREEK PARK
PICNIC AREA
TWO DAYS LATER
"...and I was hoping she would come back last night, but she didn't. I wasn't sure if I should call her, reach out or ..." Harm slouched with his cover twirling in his hands.
Dr. Lange turned on the park bench to see him better.
"Harm, do you have any idea how important your acceptance of her is? I can understand your hesitation, but so far I think your instincts have been spot on."
Harm flashed a quick grin at her. "Really?"
"You gave her something she's not ready to give herself. I hope she uses it as a source of strength, a stepping stone..."
"But she's 'the only one who can help herself'" Harm quoted.
Dr. Lange gave him a playful thump on the shoulder. "Yes, that's right. And I'll thank you not to mock my advice, young man." She couldn't help but grin at him.
"Aye, Aye, Ma'am."
It felt good just to be able to talk about his own doubts with the doctor. He knew he had to be solid around Mac, for her sake, but inside he struggled with his own demons.
"Dr., what if she doesn't take the next step? I can't leave her out there all alone. She needs me."
"Yes, I agree with you. Sarah feels like she is adrift, trapped in a place where no one can help her. My job, and yours, is to convince her that she isn't alone. That she can get through this. That there is an end ..."
"... that she CAN escape the shadows." Harm interrupted.
"Shadows?"
"Something she said the other night, coming out of the nightmare. And I think I know what she's talking about. I've seen them, too."
Dr. Lange listened intently as Harm told her about his dreams in the desert, and his waking nightmare onboard the Henry. When he finished, the older woman remained silent for several minutes. Only then did she speak.
"I see ..." Harm looked up at her words, watching as she rose slowly from the bench, brushing her skirt as she stood.
"Harm, would you be willing to do something for me? A little experiment?"
Harm tilted his head, "Experiment?"
"Yes," Dr. Lange stood up, brushing her skirt.
"I have an idea on how we can get Sarah on the right track."