Title: A TRIP TO AFGHANISTAN IX
DENOUMENT
Series: A Trip to Afghanistan
Author: Piper86
Email: improvkris@yahoo.com
Rating: PG-13
Classification: Harm/Mac pairing, JAG story
Spoilers: Season 2, the Stalker (just a pinch)
CHAPTER IX: DENOUMENT
Mac gripped the steering wheel tighter and tighter as she maneuvered through traffic, winding her way towards Dr. Lange's office. Every appointment sent her into a spin of apprehension. Her mind worked overtime trying to second-guess her counselor.
What is she going to ask me to do this time?
The question nagged at her, twisting the knot in her stomach tighter. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, her mouth pressed into a small "o". She had used this tactic over and over in court, whenever her opponent's antics threatened to make her lose her composure.
It was the same tactic she often found herself using around a certain Navy Commander ...
Mac couldn't help but smile at the memory of their first face-off in court. Oh, she had been furious with him! She had barely kept a lid on her anger in the courtroom, and had let him have it when they got outside. But he hadn't caved like she had expected, even hoped, he would. He had fired back. She did take some solace in the fact that he never tried to "sandbag" her again.
As she turned into the Bethesda Outpatient parking area, she realized her hands had relaxed their grip on the wheel. Just a few moments thinking about Harm worked magic. She parked and headed towards Dr. Lange's office building. As she entered the lobby, she could feel the Marine in her positioning to take over.
To keep her safe.
Her internal clock told her she was 43 seconds late for her appointment. She hesitated, her hand poised to knock. She debated for a moment whether to go in, or just run. By sheer force of will, she felt her knuckles rap on the wood.
"Come in," came Dr. Lange's voice from inside.
Mac took another deep breath, and held it as she entered the room.
"Ah, Sarah," Dr. Lange came around from behind her desk, "I wondered if you would come today."
"I was wondering myself just now," Mac said quietly.
The older woman squeezed Mac's shoulders in a comforting gesture, then directed her to one of the over-stuffed "comfort" chairs she used for their sessions.
"Sarah, I would very much like to talk about your not sleeping. Can you try that with me?"
Mac leaned forward in her chair, resting her elbows on her knees. Her hands clasped in front of her as if in prayer.
"I don't know," her vacant eyes raised to look at the doctor, "I don't know..."
"You have a history of trouble sleeping,"
Mac appeared a little startled. How did she know that? Had they discussed it? Their conversations were jumbled in her head. "I've had bouts of insomnia since I was a girl, yes..."
"Well, let's start there. Do you have an idea why sleep has been a difficulty?"
Mac rubbed her palms slowly, back and forth, against each other. The tension eased from her forehead. These were old demons the doctor wanted to discuss. Old friends.
She spent the entire hour talking about her abusive childhood, being abandoned by her mother, her fear of losing those she loved. She even brought up the time Coster had stalked her.
Dr. Lange listened intently, choosing not to interrupt with questions. Every time Mac glanced up, the doctor's eyes were shining directly into hers, silently encouraging.
Their time was almost up when Mac finally finished. She sat back in her chair, letting herself relax into it. Dr. Lange sat up and scribbled some brief notes before breaking the silence.
"Sarah, I just want to ask one thing at this point. I want you to go home and think about this question for next time.
Sarah ... what makes sleep so different now from before? Why has it become your enemy?"
Mac's brow furrowed at the question. She knew the answer, but she didn't want to face it. Or think about it.
Dr. Lange walked her to the door and watched Mac exit the building. She then moved to her desk, picking up the phone and dialing a three-digit number. She spoke briefly to the person at the other end.
"It's all right, she's done for today."
A few seconds later, the door to her office opened and Harm stepped through.
"Doctor, I know I said I'd do anything to help Sarah, but how the hell can I be helping her by going behind her back?"
"She's a tough nut, Harm. You know that." Dr. Lange sighed, "I know this seems unorthodox..."
"... to say the LEAST" Harm cut her off. "I'm not sure I should have told you all that about her past ..."
"Just let me finish. I believe I can help Sarah, and I think you are the key. She feels the most comfortable ... the safest ... with you. If she's going to face her demons, I think it will be with you."
"Doctor, she's been so close to opening up to me, but every time she reaches the edge, I can feel her back away." Harm sat down in the chair where Mac had been sitting just a few minutes ago. He ran a hand through his hair.
"Harm, you know I cannot break patient-doctor privilege. I can't share with you what we spoke about, and I can't have you sit in on her sessions without her consent. She's not ready for that yet.
she winked at him, "but I CAN tell you that I laid some groundwork today. I've got her thinking, and I hope I've put some cracks in the walls she's built around herself."
Harm looked up at her, his eyes questioning. "Tell me what you want me to do."
"Harm, I want you to visit Sarah tonight. Unannounced. I think she will be glad to see you ... she'll need you. I want you to talk with her, but more importantly I want you to LISTEN."
Dr. Lange stood up and walked over to stand in front of Harm. Her eyes bore into his.
"And most of all, Harm ... I need you to mention shadows."
Harm blinked in surprise, standing up and forcing Dr. Lange to take a step backwards.
"You want me to WHAT?!"
"Harm, listen to me. You know Sarah is haunted by what happened to her in Afghanistan. She is being tormented by those Shadows you told me about, but she will not discuss them with me. You were there. You shared the experience with her. You have a connection to what she is going through. I need you to break through that wall, so I can help her."
Harm looked down at his cover, gripped in both hands. His knuckles were white. His voice choked with emotion as he tried to speak.
"She may not ... she could ... I can't lose her."
Dr. Lange nodded, placing her weathered hand over his. "I know, Harm, I know. And I truly believe she feels the same way about you. I know this all sounds very unorthodox. She may not react well at first, but I don't think she'll run. Not from you. Especially not when you turn on that pilot's charm of yours."
Harm nodded slowly, willing to do anything if it meant helping Mac. He took a deep breath, flashed a grin at the doctor, grabbed his cover and headed for the door.
"All right, doctor. I'll do what I can."
Harm stepped out into the hallway and headed towards the back entrance, where he had parked so Mac wouldn't see his car. His mind was turning around what Dr. Lange had said.
Unorthodox was certainly the word. And while the lawyer in him questioned Dr. Lange's approach -- and even her sanity -- Harm couldn't help but like the woman. She had a little of the Admiral's no-nonsense, get the job done attitude.
Reaching his car, he climbed in behind the wheel and headed for home. He needed to clear his head if he was going to be of any help to Dr. Lange, or Mac ...
MAC'S APARTMENT
GEORGETOWN
LATER THAT NIGHT
Ever since she arrived home, Mac had busied herself with anything and everything to keep from thinking. She had walked in the door and decided that the entire apartment needed a good cleaning. Afternoon had faded into evening as she vacuumed, dusted, cleaned and scrubbed.
She was now kneeling beside the tub, her torso leaning over the edge. Her arm worked in furious circles to scrub the cleanser into the sides and around the drain. She then turned on the faucet, using her hand to sweep waves of water around the tub, rinsing it clean. Her t-shirt was wet down one side and her knees were beginning to protest against the hard tile floor.
The doorbell startled her. She jumped a little, banging the back of her hand on the underside of the faucet. Biting her lip and cursing, she turned the water off and headed for the door. A small cut trickled blood on the back of her hand, and she put her mouth to it as she opened the door.
Harm stood in front of her.
"Harm. Hi ..." she managed, surprised to see him.
"Hi yourself," he grinned, "hey, what happened?"
"Small argument between me and the bathtub. The bathtub won."
"Let me see that," Harm stepped into the room, taking her hand in both of his. He gently pressed the flesh, releasing quickly when she gasped.
"You're going to have a nasty bruise there, Marine."
"Tell me something I don't know, sailor." She chided.
"Let me get you some ice," he headed toward the kitchen, returning with a couple of ice cubes in a dishtowel. He held her hand and placed the ice over the wound. His fingers stroked her palm from underneath. She closed her eyes, feeling a shiver of energy from his touch. They stayed that way for several minutes, no words between them.
Harm finally broke the silence. "I wasn't sure if you were planning to come to my place again tonight, after ... well, after last time. I wanted to see how you were doing."
Mac opened her eyes, seeing the genuine concern reflected in his gaze. She wanted to lose herself in his eyes. She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Gaining control.
"I'm all right, I guess. The session with Dr. Lange was a little rough today."
"Want to tell me about it?"
"It's just ... she made me talk about my sleeping,"
"What sleeping? You sleep?" he said teasingly, trying to lighten her mood.
Mac gave him a playful shove on the shoulder.
"Cut it out, flyboy. You know what I mean."
Harm nodded. "Go on," he said.
"She thinks ... she's just ... " Mac stood, pulling her hand away from Harm's. She began pacing back and forth. "Harm, you know I've had trouble sleeping most of my life, and I've learned to deal with it. But now ... it's different."
Harm stood up, intent on taking her in his arms. But something held him back. Dr. Lange's voice seeped into his thoughts.
More importantly, I want you to LISTEN.
Harm sat back against the arm of the couch, resting his hands on his thighs and watching Mac. She was now going back and forth at a frantic pace.
"It's like she can read my thoughts. She knows it's different now, and she wants me to talk about it. I ... I don't know if I can, Harm. I don't know if I can beat this." She turned to look at him, her eyes full of despair.
Harm stood slowly, reaching out one hand to cup the side of her face. She pressed her head into his hand as he let his thumb brush her cheek. His voice was a whisper.
"Tell me, Sarah. Tell me about the Shadows."
She reacted as if he had burned her flesh. Her eyes flew open and she stumbled back away from him. Harm took a step forward, reaching for her. But she scrambled away, bolting for the door. Before Harm knew what was happening, she was running full tilt down the street.
Mac's chest felt like it was going to split apart. Her heart hammered against her ribs, her one lung working overtime as she sprinted down the street. Tears blinded her. She turned onto a jogging path she knew well, and ran on.
She wanted so desperately to talk to Harm. He had been there for her from the beginning of this hell, and she knew he wouldn't leave her. But just his mentioning the shadows was enough to bring them into the waking world. He had barely finished his request when she saw it. The dark Shadow towering up behind Harm, looking down on her. Laughing.
She had to get away.
Her breath was becoming labored. She felt a burning pain in her side, knowing she wasn't getting enough air. She stumbled over a tree root poking up through the path. She fell hard, taking the brunt of it on her palms and knees. She felt something tugging at her ankle, and turned to see the Shadow groping for her. She screamed, struggling to get up, to keep running.
She bolted from the path and tore into some underbrush. Each branch scraping her skin felt like the Shadow's fingers, grasping her. She smashed through the bushes wildly, arms thrashing in front of her to clear a path. She felt nothing but pain every time she breathed, running on pure adrenaline now. Her foot caught again, sending her sprawling onto the ground. She lay there, panting heavily. Sweat poured from her. She couldn't breathe. She could feel herself on the verge of passing out.
At that moment, Harm burst through the bushes from the direction she'd come. She could barely hear him calling her name through the rushing sound in her ears. He was on his knees beside her, trying to get her to sit up. She was still gasping for air. He held her gently, rubbing her back and trying to calm her. She clutched a fistful of his shirt with her grubby hand.
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, her breathing began to slow. The pain in her chest subsided to a dull ache. She could focus a little now, and kept her eyes glued to Harm's shirt, unable to look him in the eye. She felt Harm lifting her to her feet. His strong arm wrapped around her, she buried her face in his chest. They stood there for a long time, wrapped around each other. Mac finally pulled away from Harm, looking at his now-damp shirt. Only then did she realize she was crying.
Harm said nothing. He put an arm around her waist and walked her back to the apartment. Once inside, he took her into the bathroom and lowered the toilet seat lid, moving her onto it. The smell of cleanser was strong in the room.
Mac watched him, mesmerized as he found a washcloth and ran it under warm water. He wiped her face with it, then her palms. He removed her dirty shoes and socks, then gently cleaned her feet. She trembled a little at his tenderness.
Harm then walked over to the bathtub, turning on the water. He switched the showerhead on, and gestured for Mac to get in. He left the room, closing the door behind him. Mac slowly stripped out of her clothes, and stepped into the spray.
She emerged from the bathroom clad in the robe she kept there. Her hair was wet and clean, and her body a little more relaxed. Harm was sitting in front of the fireplace, nursing a pile of kindling. She silently sat down on the couch, watching him work. He soon had a nice fire going, stoking it with a few small pieces of wood. She stared at the fire, sensing it when he got up and sat down beside her on the couch.
They sat in silence, the warmth from the fire heating their skin. Mac took a deep breath, shuddering. Harm reached out and took her hand, squeezing it in his.
"Mac," he began cautiously, "this is the first time I've been near a fire with you since we ... since Afghanistan."
Mac turned to see him looking at her intently. He ran his hand through his hair before continuing.
"Back when the dreams started. I've had ... I've seen them, Mac. I've ... I've seen the Shadows."
Mac's breath caught in her throat. She turned her body on the couch so she could face him.
Harm looked down at his hand caressing hers, closing his eyes before he continued.
"Sarah, the night we brought you down from the Taliban camp, we had to stop because of a sandstorm. You were in bad shape, and I was afraid. I dreamed that night ..." He squeezed his eyes tightly, tilting his head as if wishing away the experience.
Mac listened as he told her about the dream. About the shadows grabbing and scoring her body, and the fire that prevented him from helping her. Her heart broke at the pain etched across his face.
He went on to tell her about their time aboard the Henry, and how he had seen the Shadows there, only this time not in a dream. His face seemed to age in the firelight as he poured out his terror to her.
She found herself stroking his face with her fingers. He looked up at her, his eyes clouded with guilt and shame.
"Sarah, when I think about what you went through, what you lost..." he whispered, "and that you did it to protect me."
"Harm," was all she could manage to say. She felt a new stream of tears slipping down her face. She took his face in both hands, leaning forward and kissing his eyelids. She pulled away, whispering again.
"Harm ..."
She looked up to meet his eyes. Shaking, she began to speak.
"I would have done anything to keep you safe. I would have died out there if it meant you would be all right. I didn't expect to get out of there. I didn't expect to live, Harm."
Harm felt her hands trembling. He gently placed one hand on her thigh, reassuring.
"While I was unconscious, a voice called out to me, encouraging me to let go. It came from the shadows. It sang to me Harm. I ... I couldn't get away from it. And it got harder and harder to resist it."
She pulled her knees up, wrapping her arms around them, pulling herself into a protective cocoon. Harm did not try to stop her when she pulled away from him. He just listened.
"But then I would hear your voice. It was begging me to fight. So I did. You kept me alive, Harm. But IT wouldn't give up. It came to me again while I was in surgery. It was singing and laughing. But It was different ... It didn't want me anymore. It wanted something more than me. It ... It took away my children, Harm. It didn't get me like it wanted, so it took what mattered to me most."
She started shaking violently. Harm touched her bare feet, slowly caressing them with his warm hand. She looked straight into his eyes, the tears coming freely.
"I wanted children so badly, Harm. I wanted ... your children. I wanted to give you a family."
Saying this, it felt like a dam burst inside her. The walls came crashing down, stripping her insides. She let go of her knees, curling against Harm as he held her tightly.
"But it's all been taken away from me. I didn't die, Harm, but I feel like I may as well have. I can't give you what you deserve. I don't want to lose you, but I can't ask you to give up so much."
She felt Harm's fingers pressing against her lips. He slowly replaced them with his mouth, kissing her deeply. Savoring her. She let out a small moan and returned his kiss. She held onto him, needing his strength. She felt his hand at the back of her head, the other pressed against her back.
"Sarah," he breathed when they finally parted. "The only thing I care about is that you are here, with me. I thought I'd lost you, and you were given back to me. It's an amazing gift, Sarah. And I'm not about to give it up."
He moved his mouth to the side of her neck, caressing it with his lips. She felt his hand tugging at the sash of her robe. It came loose, and his fingers slipped inside.
She grabbed his hand, trying to stop him, but he moved to kiss her again, breaking her resistance. His fingers found what they sought ... the winding scar from her surgery. He gently traced the entire outline, flattening his hand and resting it against her belly.
He pushed the robe open a little further, letting his gaze follow the trail his fingers had made. Then his eyes rose to meet hers, capturing her gaze and holding it.
"I've seen it, Sarah ... and I'm still here."
He pushed the robe open a little further, dipping his head so his lips could trace the scars. She gasped at the feel of him, her hands moving to his shoulders.
"You're my family," he said softly. "and it's enough." His head lifted back up, his lips finding hers again.
"I love you, Sarah."
He stood up, pulling her with him. "You're all I want. All I need. If we're meant to have more, then it will happen."
She felt his hands slide onto her shoulders, then down the sides of the robe, shrugging it onto the floor. She stood before him as she had in his dream, naked and beautiful. The scars disappeared, becoming a part of her beauty. He gently lifted her in his arms, and walked towards the bedroom.
Later that night, Sarah MacKenzie slept peacefully in the arms of the man she loved.
The Shadows did not come again.
THE END
DENOUMENT
Series: A Trip to Afghanistan
Author: Piper86
Email: improvkris@yahoo.com
Rating: PG-13
Classification: Harm/Mac pairing, JAG story
Spoilers: Season 2, the Stalker (just a pinch)
CHAPTER IX: DENOUMENT
Mac gripped the steering wheel tighter and tighter as she maneuvered through traffic, winding her way towards Dr. Lange's office. Every appointment sent her into a spin of apprehension. Her mind worked overtime trying to second-guess her counselor.
What is she going to ask me to do this time?
The question nagged at her, twisting the knot in her stomach tighter. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, her mouth pressed into a small "o". She had used this tactic over and over in court, whenever her opponent's antics threatened to make her lose her composure.
It was the same tactic she often found herself using around a certain Navy Commander ...
Mac couldn't help but smile at the memory of their first face-off in court. Oh, she had been furious with him! She had barely kept a lid on her anger in the courtroom, and had let him have it when they got outside. But he hadn't caved like she had expected, even hoped, he would. He had fired back. She did take some solace in the fact that he never tried to "sandbag" her again.
As she turned into the Bethesda Outpatient parking area, she realized her hands had relaxed their grip on the wheel. Just a few moments thinking about Harm worked magic. She parked and headed towards Dr. Lange's office building. As she entered the lobby, she could feel the Marine in her positioning to take over.
To keep her safe.
Her internal clock told her she was 43 seconds late for her appointment. She hesitated, her hand poised to knock. She debated for a moment whether to go in, or just run. By sheer force of will, she felt her knuckles rap on the wood.
"Come in," came Dr. Lange's voice from inside.
Mac took another deep breath, and held it as she entered the room.
"Ah, Sarah," Dr. Lange came around from behind her desk, "I wondered if you would come today."
"I was wondering myself just now," Mac said quietly.
The older woman squeezed Mac's shoulders in a comforting gesture, then directed her to one of the over-stuffed "comfort" chairs she used for their sessions.
"Sarah, I would very much like to talk about your not sleeping. Can you try that with me?"
Mac leaned forward in her chair, resting her elbows on her knees. Her hands clasped in front of her as if in prayer.
"I don't know," her vacant eyes raised to look at the doctor, "I don't know..."
"You have a history of trouble sleeping,"
Mac appeared a little startled. How did she know that? Had they discussed it? Their conversations were jumbled in her head. "I've had bouts of insomnia since I was a girl, yes..."
"Well, let's start there. Do you have an idea why sleep has been a difficulty?"
Mac rubbed her palms slowly, back and forth, against each other. The tension eased from her forehead. These were old demons the doctor wanted to discuss. Old friends.
She spent the entire hour talking about her abusive childhood, being abandoned by her mother, her fear of losing those she loved. She even brought up the time Coster had stalked her.
Dr. Lange listened intently, choosing not to interrupt with questions. Every time Mac glanced up, the doctor's eyes were shining directly into hers, silently encouraging.
Their time was almost up when Mac finally finished. She sat back in her chair, letting herself relax into it. Dr. Lange sat up and scribbled some brief notes before breaking the silence.
"Sarah, I just want to ask one thing at this point. I want you to go home and think about this question for next time.
Sarah ... what makes sleep so different now from before? Why has it become your enemy?"
Mac's brow furrowed at the question. She knew the answer, but she didn't want to face it. Or think about it.
Dr. Lange walked her to the door and watched Mac exit the building. She then moved to her desk, picking up the phone and dialing a three-digit number. She spoke briefly to the person at the other end.
"It's all right, she's done for today."
A few seconds later, the door to her office opened and Harm stepped through.
"Doctor, I know I said I'd do anything to help Sarah, but how the hell can I be helping her by going behind her back?"
"She's a tough nut, Harm. You know that." Dr. Lange sighed, "I know this seems unorthodox..."
"... to say the LEAST" Harm cut her off. "I'm not sure I should have told you all that about her past ..."
"Just let me finish. I believe I can help Sarah, and I think you are the key. She feels the most comfortable ... the safest ... with you. If she's going to face her demons, I think it will be with you."
"Doctor, she's been so close to opening up to me, but every time she reaches the edge, I can feel her back away." Harm sat down in the chair where Mac had been sitting just a few minutes ago. He ran a hand through his hair.
"Harm, you know I cannot break patient-doctor privilege. I can't share with you what we spoke about, and I can't have you sit in on her sessions without her consent. She's not ready for that yet.
she winked at him, "but I CAN tell you that I laid some groundwork today. I've got her thinking, and I hope I've put some cracks in the walls she's built around herself."
Harm looked up at her, his eyes questioning. "Tell me what you want me to do."
"Harm, I want you to visit Sarah tonight. Unannounced. I think she will be glad to see you ... she'll need you. I want you to talk with her, but more importantly I want you to LISTEN."
Dr. Lange stood up and walked over to stand in front of Harm. Her eyes bore into his.
"And most of all, Harm ... I need you to mention shadows."
Harm blinked in surprise, standing up and forcing Dr. Lange to take a step backwards.
"You want me to WHAT?!"
"Harm, listen to me. You know Sarah is haunted by what happened to her in Afghanistan. She is being tormented by those Shadows you told me about, but she will not discuss them with me. You were there. You shared the experience with her. You have a connection to what she is going through. I need you to break through that wall, so I can help her."
Harm looked down at his cover, gripped in both hands. His knuckles were white. His voice choked with emotion as he tried to speak.
"She may not ... she could ... I can't lose her."
Dr. Lange nodded, placing her weathered hand over his. "I know, Harm, I know. And I truly believe she feels the same way about you. I know this all sounds very unorthodox. She may not react well at first, but I don't think she'll run. Not from you. Especially not when you turn on that pilot's charm of yours."
Harm nodded slowly, willing to do anything if it meant helping Mac. He took a deep breath, flashed a grin at the doctor, grabbed his cover and headed for the door.
"All right, doctor. I'll do what I can."
Harm stepped out into the hallway and headed towards the back entrance, where he had parked so Mac wouldn't see his car. His mind was turning around what Dr. Lange had said.
Unorthodox was certainly the word. And while the lawyer in him questioned Dr. Lange's approach -- and even her sanity -- Harm couldn't help but like the woman. She had a little of the Admiral's no-nonsense, get the job done attitude.
Reaching his car, he climbed in behind the wheel and headed for home. He needed to clear his head if he was going to be of any help to Dr. Lange, or Mac ...
MAC'S APARTMENT
GEORGETOWN
LATER THAT NIGHT
Ever since she arrived home, Mac had busied herself with anything and everything to keep from thinking. She had walked in the door and decided that the entire apartment needed a good cleaning. Afternoon had faded into evening as she vacuumed, dusted, cleaned and scrubbed.
She was now kneeling beside the tub, her torso leaning over the edge. Her arm worked in furious circles to scrub the cleanser into the sides and around the drain. She then turned on the faucet, using her hand to sweep waves of water around the tub, rinsing it clean. Her t-shirt was wet down one side and her knees were beginning to protest against the hard tile floor.
The doorbell startled her. She jumped a little, banging the back of her hand on the underside of the faucet. Biting her lip and cursing, she turned the water off and headed for the door. A small cut trickled blood on the back of her hand, and she put her mouth to it as she opened the door.
Harm stood in front of her.
"Harm. Hi ..." she managed, surprised to see him.
"Hi yourself," he grinned, "hey, what happened?"
"Small argument between me and the bathtub. The bathtub won."
"Let me see that," Harm stepped into the room, taking her hand in both of his. He gently pressed the flesh, releasing quickly when she gasped.
"You're going to have a nasty bruise there, Marine."
"Tell me something I don't know, sailor." She chided.
"Let me get you some ice," he headed toward the kitchen, returning with a couple of ice cubes in a dishtowel. He held her hand and placed the ice over the wound. His fingers stroked her palm from underneath. She closed her eyes, feeling a shiver of energy from his touch. They stayed that way for several minutes, no words between them.
Harm finally broke the silence. "I wasn't sure if you were planning to come to my place again tonight, after ... well, after last time. I wanted to see how you were doing."
Mac opened her eyes, seeing the genuine concern reflected in his gaze. She wanted to lose herself in his eyes. She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Gaining control.
"I'm all right, I guess. The session with Dr. Lange was a little rough today."
"Want to tell me about it?"
"It's just ... she made me talk about my sleeping,"
"What sleeping? You sleep?" he said teasingly, trying to lighten her mood.
Mac gave him a playful shove on the shoulder.
"Cut it out, flyboy. You know what I mean."
Harm nodded. "Go on," he said.
"She thinks ... she's just ... " Mac stood, pulling her hand away from Harm's. She began pacing back and forth. "Harm, you know I've had trouble sleeping most of my life, and I've learned to deal with it. But now ... it's different."
Harm stood up, intent on taking her in his arms. But something held him back. Dr. Lange's voice seeped into his thoughts.
More importantly, I want you to LISTEN.
Harm sat back against the arm of the couch, resting his hands on his thighs and watching Mac. She was now going back and forth at a frantic pace.
"It's like she can read my thoughts. She knows it's different now, and she wants me to talk about it. I ... I don't know if I can, Harm. I don't know if I can beat this." She turned to look at him, her eyes full of despair.
Harm stood slowly, reaching out one hand to cup the side of her face. She pressed her head into his hand as he let his thumb brush her cheek. His voice was a whisper.
"Tell me, Sarah. Tell me about the Shadows."
She reacted as if he had burned her flesh. Her eyes flew open and she stumbled back away from him. Harm took a step forward, reaching for her. But she scrambled away, bolting for the door. Before Harm knew what was happening, she was running full tilt down the street.
Mac's chest felt like it was going to split apart. Her heart hammered against her ribs, her one lung working overtime as she sprinted down the street. Tears blinded her. She turned onto a jogging path she knew well, and ran on.
She wanted so desperately to talk to Harm. He had been there for her from the beginning of this hell, and she knew he wouldn't leave her. But just his mentioning the shadows was enough to bring them into the waking world. He had barely finished his request when she saw it. The dark Shadow towering up behind Harm, looking down on her. Laughing.
She had to get away.
Her breath was becoming labored. She felt a burning pain in her side, knowing she wasn't getting enough air. She stumbled over a tree root poking up through the path. She fell hard, taking the brunt of it on her palms and knees. She felt something tugging at her ankle, and turned to see the Shadow groping for her. She screamed, struggling to get up, to keep running.
She bolted from the path and tore into some underbrush. Each branch scraping her skin felt like the Shadow's fingers, grasping her. She smashed through the bushes wildly, arms thrashing in front of her to clear a path. She felt nothing but pain every time she breathed, running on pure adrenaline now. Her foot caught again, sending her sprawling onto the ground. She lay there, panting heavily. Sweat poured from her. She couldn't breathe. She could feel herself on the verge of passing out.
At that moment, Harm burst through the bushes from the direction she'd come. She could barely hear him calling her name through the rushing sound in her ears. He was on his knees beside her, trying to get her to sit up. She was still gasping for air. He held her gently, rubbing her back and trying to calm her. She clutched a fistful of his shirt with her grubby hand.
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, her breathing began to slow. The pain in her chest subsided to a dull ache. She could focus a little now, and kept her eyes glued to Harm's shirt, unable to look him in the eye. She felt Harm lifting her to her feet. His strong arm wrapped around her, she buried her face in his chest. They stood there for a long time, wrapped around each other. Mac finally pulled away from Harm, looking at his now-damp shirt. Only then did she realize she was crying.
Harm said nothing. He put an arm around her waist and walked her back to the apartment. Once inside, he took her into the bathroom and lowered the toilet seat lid, moving her onto it. The smell of cleanser was strong in the room.
Mac watched him, mesmerized as he found a washcloth and ran it under warm water. He wiped her face with it, then her palms. He removed her dirty shoes and socks, then gently cleaned her feet. She trembled a little at his tenderness.
Harm then walked over to the bathtub, turning on the water. He switched the showerhead on, and gestured for Mac to get in. He left the room, closing the door behind him. Mac slowly stripped out of her clothes, and stepped into the spray.
She emerged from the bathroom clad in the robe she kept there. Her hair was wet and clean, and her body a little more relaxed. Harm was sitting in front of the fireplace, nursing a pile of kindling. She silently sat down on the couch, watching him work. He soon had a nice fire going, stoking it with a few small pieces of wood. She stared at the fire, sensing it when he got up and sat down beside her on the couch.
They sat in silence, the warmth from the fire heating their skin. Mac took a deep breath, shuddering. Harm reached out and took her hand, squeezing it in his.
"Mac," he began cautiously, "this is the first time I've been near a fire with you since we ... since Afghanistan."
Mac turned to see him looking at her intently. He ran his hand through his hair before continuing.
"Back when the dreams started. I've had ... I've seen them, Mac. I've ... I've seen the Shadows."
Mac's breath caught in her throat. She turned her body on the couch so she could face him.
Harm looked down at his hand caressing hers, closing his eyes before he continued.
"Sarah, the night we brought you down from the Taliban camp, we had to stop because of a sandstorm. You were in bad shape, and I was afraid. I dreamed that night ..." He squeezed his eyes tightly, tilting his head as if wishing away the experience.
Mac listened as he told her about the dream. About the shadows grabbing and scoring her body, and the fire that prevented him from helping her. Her heart broke at the pain etched across his face.
He went on to tell her about their time aboard the Henry, and how he had seen the Shadows there, only this time not in a dream. His face seemed to age in the firelight as he poured out his terror to her.
She found herself stroking his face with her fingers. He looked up at her, his eyes clouded with guilt and shame.
"Sarah, when I think about what you went through, what you lost..." he whispered, "and that you did it to protect me."
"Harm," was all she could manage to say. She felt a new stream of tears slipping down her face. She took his face in both hands, leaning forward and kissing his eyelids. She pulled away, whispering again.
"Harm ..."
She looked up to meet his eyes. Shaking, she began to speak.
"I would have done anything to keep you safe. I would have died out there if it meant you would be all right. I didn't expect to get out of there. I didn't expect to live, Harm."
Harm felt her hands trembling. He gently placed one hand on her thigh, reassuring.
"While I was unconscious, a voice called out to me, encouraging me to let go. It came from the shadows. It sang to me Harm. I ... I couldn't get away from it. And it got harder and harder to resist it."
She pulled her knees up, wrapping her arms around them, pulling herself into a protective cocoon. Harm did not try to stop her when she pulled away from him. He just listened.
"But then I would hear your voice. It was begging me to fight. So I did. You kept me alive, Harm. But IT wouldn't give up. It came to me again while I was in surgery. It was singing and laughing. But It was different ... It didn't want me anymore. It wanted something more than me. It ... It took away my children, Harm. It didn't get me like it wanted, so it took what mattered to me most."
She started shaking violently. Harm touched her bare feet, slowly caressing them with his warm hand. She looked straight into his eyes, the tears coming freely.
"I wanted children so badly, Harm. I wanted ... your children. I wanted to give you a family."
Saying this, it felt like a dam burst inside her. The walls came crashing down, stripping her insides. She let go of her knees, curling against Harm as he held her tightly.
"But it's all been taken away from me. I didn't die, Harm, but I feel like I may as well have. I can't give you what you deserve. I don't want to lose you, but I can't ask you to give up so much."
She felt Harm's fingers pressing against her lips. He slowly replaced them with his mouth, kissing her deeply. Savoring her. She let out a small moan and returned his kiss. She held onto him, needing his strength. She felt his hand at the back of her head, the other pressed against her back.
"Sarah," he breathed when they finally parted. "The only thing I care about is that you are here, with me. I thought I'd lost you, and you were given back to me. It's an amazing gift, Sarah. And I'm not about to give it up."
He moved his mouth to the side of her neck, caressing it with his lips. She felt his hand tugging at the sash of her robe. It came loose, and his fingers slipped inside.
She grabbed his hand, trying to stop him, but he moved to kiss her again, breaking her resistance. His fingers found what they sought ... the winding scar from her surgery. He gently traced the entire outline, flattening his hand and resting it against her belly.
He pushed the robe open a little further, letting his gaze follow the trail his fingers had made. Then his eyes rose to meet hers, capturing her gaze and holding it.
"I've seen it, Sarah ... and I'm still here."
He pushed the robe open a little further, dipping his head so his lips could trace the scars. She gasped at the feel of him, her hands moving to his shoulders.
"You're my family," he said softly. "and it's enough." His head lifted back up, his lips finding hers again.
"I love you, Sarah."
He stood up, pulling her with him. "You're all I want. All I need. If we're meant to have more, then it will happen."
She felt his hands slide onto her shoulders, then down the sides of the robe, shrugging it onto the floor. She stood before him as she had in his dream, naked and beautiful. The scars disappeared, becoming a part of her beauty. He gently lifted her in his arms, and walked towards the bedroom.
Later that night, Sarah MacKenzie slept peacefully in the arms of the man she loved.
The Shadows did not come again.
THE END