'Reaching for Sarah's Soul' - Part Eight
Author: Daenar
Disclaimer: See Part One
This story is set in the middle of season 7, just after 'Answered Prayers'.
From part seven:
True, Harm's insisting on taking the last flight back from the carrier, knowing he might be flying into bad weather, just because he wanted to be there for the wedding, might seem like an admission of feelings other than friendship that he just never dared to voice. But as you can see, it wasn't that at all. Still, the dreadful hours praying that the search teams would find him did make things clearer to me. Not immediately, but in the long run. At that moment, my feelings for him ran deeper than they did for you - and that simply isn't a ground one should base a lifelong commitment on. I am glad we didn't. The events of that night saved me from settling for something that would have made neither me nor you happy in the end. There was no other man involved - there just wasn't enough involvement with the man who wanted me.
I only hope that someday you will meet the woman who will be able to give you all the love you would have wished I had for you.
Be safe, Mic. As a friend, I will still be there for you, should you ever need me.
Always, Sarah
It was nearly half an hour after she had finished reading the letter for the third time that Sarah Mackenzie could make up her mind, reach for her crutches and return to the house. Back in her room, she immediately lay down, hoping a little sleep would set her mind at ease and restore her emotional strength.
She would need all of it, digesting what she had just learned.
Part Eight:
Jan. 26th 1828 ZULU Burnett Residence La Jolla, California
Trish Burnett asked herself yet again if she was doing the right thing. She had been battling her conscience for the better part of the last ten days. Eventually she had come to the conclusion that this was something she just had to do.
She knew well that she had promised her son not to reveal her identity and her connection with him. She had even ridded her house of every picture or object that might have tipped her guest off. But seeing how much the poor woman was suffering from the situation and how she was fighting her anxieties all by herself, had long since deprived Trish of a good night's sleep.
Although he had never admitted to anything, Trish knew Harm loved Sarah Mackenzie and that he was at the verge of breaking from the burden he was shouldering trying to help her. His voice, when he had first called her, had been so unlike his normal self Trish had been shocked. Yet, she had been willing to respect his wish to stay anonymous. Mac knew Trish had a son, but this was it.
It had been knowing Mac herself that had made Trish reconsider her decision. She had always been very curious to get a glimpse at the woman that held her commitment-shy son's heart captive like she did. Harm had warned her not to get a wrong impression of her, claiming Mac was far from her true self right now. And yet, Trish was sensitive enough to distinguish between Mac's anxiety and the strong personality that lay beneath it.
Apart from being an exceptionally beautiful woman, Mac was an impressive person to be acquainted with. Trish was thrilled to see to whom Harm had devoted his heart. And she had soon been able to read between the lines that - be it old or recent - a flame akin to that in Harm's soul was burning within Mac, too. Trish felt she was unable to sit by and just watch as these two were slowly drowning in despair, about the situation as well as about being apart from each other.
Silently vowing to herself that she wouldn't chicken out and ignoring her conscience that reminded her of her promise to Harm, Trish now carefully neared the figure that was sitting on a barstool at the kitchen counter, terry-robe-clad shoulders slumped, cheeks very pale, listlessly stirring the cocoa in the oversized cup in front of her. Trish had witnessed a lot of grief within the young woman, but today, Mac looked truly done. Something seemed to add to her already troubled state of mind, and Trish swore she'd ease that haunted look in those beautiful eyes of hers.
As gently as possible, she placed her hand on Mac's shoulder. Yet, the younger woman jumped and spilled a little of the warm, brown liquid from her cup.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, Mrs. Burnett," she immediately apologized, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. A reaction as strong as this only reaffirmed Trish's suspicion that something was indeed very, very wrong.
"Never mind, dear," she said with a soothing smile, reaching for a Kleenex and wiping the cocoa away with a swift brush. Then, she settled down on the stool beside her guest, examining her more closely. The young woman had dark circles under her eyes and was indeed frighteningly pale. "Are you unwell this morning?" Trish asked, concerned.
A feeble smile lit up Mac's face. "Just lack of sleep, nothing serious."
"Is there anything we can do to make you more comfortable?" Trish inquired, knowing full well this wasn't the cause of her insomnia but she wanted to get her to talk.
"No, thank you, ma'am," Mac answered quickly, apparently eager to set her hostess at ease. "I'm just dealing with a few problems. I guess worrying too much kept me from sleeping last night. But I was planning on returning to bed after I had finished this cup. Cocoa often works wonders."
Trish smiled. "Yes, it does. However..." She hesitated but then thought 'To hell with it!' and took the plunge. "Sometimes, talking about what's troubling you is even more effective. So if you need someone to just listen - I'm here." She fixed her gaze to Mac's, hoping she would be able to see in her eyes just how much she wanted her to open up.
After a few seconds of pondering the issue in her heart, Mac - to Trish's infinite relief and joy - took the offered hand. "Mine is a very complicated case," she began in a low voice. "I don't know if you'll really..."
"Just try me," Trish cut in gently.
Mac smiled a little. "Okay... thank you." She sighed, looking into her cup again. When she spoke, her voice was very low. "I don't quite know where to start so if I mix things up too much, just ask." Trish only nodded. Mac went on, "Well, to make a long story short, it's not an accident I'm recovering from. In case Commander Rabb didn't tell you: I'm a fellow officer of his and we both got shot while rescuing his brother, my adopted sister and our godson from their kidnappers."
Trish felt her heart stop beating. "Ha..." she cleared her throat, to cover up her slip just as well as because her voice had suddenly failed its service. "Commander Rabb was hurt, too? He never told me what exactly had happened. Good God, I might have come close to..." Stopping herself just in time, Trish drew a shaky breath and tried to look far more at ease than she felt. She wasn't supposed to appear this shaken by some news about a casual acquaintance.
Yet, the moment she met Mac's eyes, Trish knew she had crossed the line. The young woman had tensed and fear was shining in her eyes - fear of other people being dishonest with her, as Trish could easily read on her features.
With obvious strain, Mac inquired quietly, "You know about my situation, don't you? Commander Rabb told you. And you're not just some friend. Am I right?"
Sighing deeply, Trish didn't resist the urge anymore to make physical contact. Surprising her conversation partner, she placed her hand on Mac's and squeezed it tenderly. "Please, don't be angry with my son, darling. All he ever thinks about is keeping you safe, physically and emotionally. He was so afraid to let you fight this on your own. So he enlisted my help, making me promise I wouldn't say a thing. I know Harm can be stubborn and over-protective, but if you knew just how much he depends on you as his friend, you'd understand why he does what he does. Please," Trish begged again, "Don't hold his disposition against him."
Mac just stared at her, aghast, never trying to free her hand. "So you're..."
"Former Mrs. Harmon Rabb, Sr., yes," Trish finished her sentence with an apologetic smile. "But, please, call me Trish, will you?"
Swallowing, Mac nodded. "Call me Sarah," she answered, her voice uneven. "Seems your son knows me very well indeed," she continued, staring into her cup again as if she could find some answers in her private cocoa oracle. "He knew I'd never have come here had I known who you are."
Trish felt a slight sting but chose to ignore it, knowing the statement hadn't been directed against her. Deciding the issue had been pushed over the edge anyway, she asked, "I'm glad you did, though. Has your time here helped to clear anything for you yet?"
Sighing, Mac finally took a sip from her cup and closed her eyes as she let the soothing drink run down her gullet. When she looked at Trish again, the older woman could see her gaze was clearer and more relaxed. Mac had obviously made her peace with the situation.
"Yeah, actually I think I made quite a bit of headway," she explained. "I learned a lot of things about my career and about quite a few cases I worked on. I've started reacquainting myself with the law and I find I remember more than I thought I would." Her voice turned a little defeated when she went on. "It's just my private life that I can't seem to get a grip on. Sarah, the Colonel, is present. Sarah, the woman, isn't. And the few things I did find out are confusing the hell out of me..." She let her voice trail off.
"For instance?" Trish probed gently. She had a distinct feeling she was getting close to the bottom of her guest's current state of mind.
As if to steady herself, Mac drew a deep breath. Her gaze had turned frightened again. "Well, I guess you might know some about it as the affair affected Harm big time," she began, clearly uneasy. "You know where Harm was going when he went down at sea last May, right?"
Trish closed her eyes and waited for the stab of pain to dissipate. She remembered clearly getting the news of his downed plane, just like she had received them 32 years prior to that day... "Your wedding," she replied in a low voice when she felt she could breathe again. "Do you remember anything of that night?"
Mac shook her head. "No, I don't" she murmured, pain ringing in her words, "Not a single thing. But I wish I did. Then maybe this letter would start making some sense."
Only now did Trish become aware of the sheet of paper lying on Mac's lap. With a questioning glance, she tentatively reached for it and Mac nodded, allowing her to take it. With considerable trepidation, Trish began to read, but the feeling soon turned into relaxation and understanding as the pieces suddenly began to fall into place in her mind.
When she had finished, she handed the worn paper back to Mac. "I can see how this must make you uneasy," she commented quietly, supplying the opening she hoped Mac would use to inquire after anything she might want to know.
"Trish, can I ask you something?" Mac promptly came forth.
"I don't know if I'll be able to answer but sure, go ahead," Trish encouraged her.
Mac took another sip of her cocoa. "There's one thing that really doesn't make any sense at all," she began and with a smile, Trish spoke up.
"Your relationship with my son."
Actually blushing slightly, it was Mac's turn to smile. "Is it that obvious?"
"Honey, it's the one thing I've been trying to figure out ever since he mentioned you for the first time," Trish told her, sobering a little. "If you feel that this... whatever it is... might be the key to some essential parts of your personal history, I'd say your assumption is absolutely right. I don't have many details, but I do know my son pretty well - he's an emotional carbon copy of his father. So, what little I can tell you is this:
"Harm cares for you in a way I've seldom seen him care about anyone. It's obvious that the same goes for you. The two of you seem to have formed a bond so unique that you simply can't live without it. You'd do anything not to lose each other. Including consenting to see the other marry someone else, holding his or her personal happiness dearer than your own."
"And yet, Harm told me we were never in love..." Mac mused tonelessly, obviously stunned beyond recognition.
Knowing she was about to go farther than might be healthy, Trish felt she couldn't resist the urge to tell what she felt was nothing but the honest- to-God truth. "No, I'm sure those weren't his words," she contradicted quietly, watching the other woman's reaction closely. "I know they weren't because the answer he supplies whenever I touch the topic is very similar to what you said, but not quite the same. Still, the words never change. Whenever I ask him, 'Harm, are you and Mac in love with each other?' he's sure to answer, 'We were never lovers, if that's what you're asking,' and then he'll consider the matter as closed."
The little color that had previously returned to Mac's face had drained from it again. "That's just what he said," she whispered. Then, squaring her shoulders, she steadied her voice and asked, "Trish, was Harm in love with me before... this?"
With a sad smile, Trish lifted her shoulders and let them drop again, sighing. "Darling, I don't know for sure. He isn't exactly... forthcoming with information about his feelings. As far as I know, that character trait has caused the two of you problems more often than any normal friendship would have survived. But if you ask me, as his mother, I can only say yes, my son loved you from the bottom of his heart. And still does."
To her astonishment, Trish saw tears well up in Mac's eyes, but before she could ask for the reason, Mac explained of her own free will. "Right from the start of this ordeal, when Harm was there for me all the time, I knew I was in danger of falling for him," she said, her voice barely audible. "I tried not to, because I was afraid any additional emotional stress would throw me off track in full. But I couldn't help it..." She swallowed. "I'm in love with your son, Trish," she admitted. "And when I came across that letter it appeared to me as obvious as anything that there must have been something between the two of us. But his whole demeanor makes it very clear now that he doesn't consider me the woman he may once have loved."
Mac looked so helpless that Trish felt like crying herself but she gulped it down, waiting for Mac to elaborate. She did, her voice lower still. "Looking back, I think I even noticed it during our very first conversation after I came to. I couldn't place the feeling then but... It was like he laid something to rest. Like he tore that other woman from his heart, knowing I wasn't her anymore." A lone tear escaped her eye and made its way down her cheek. Yet, she apparently wanted to keep the upper hand about her feelings. "I know he's still my friend and believe me, I'll be forever grateful for that. But... to think that there might have been so much more... and now there never will..."
Physical and emotional exhaustion were taking their toll on her composure and finally, the already feeble façade broke down completely. All Trish could do was pull Mac into a firm embrace and hold her tight as all her built-up rage and grief culminated and gave way to bitter tears, breaking through with an irresistible force. Pressing her lips shut to keep her own emotions at bay, Trish allowed Mac to cry herself out to the verge of collapsing.
'Dear God, let my children find their way back to each other,' Trish prayed fervently, knowing that right now, chances were feeble at best that her wish be granted.
Jan. 29th 2357 ZULU Red Rock Mesa Arizona
With a smile that he knew was a little too confident, Harm pulled the rented SUV to a halt, jumped out and rounded the car to help Mac get out with her crutches. She didn't need them all the time anymore but he had insisted she bring them because the ground was uneven around here. And to have something that might convey some security. He felt she needed every last bit of it.
Three days ago, his mother had called him and had told him that Mac had found out about where he had placed her for her little vacation. He had dreaded meeting her because he had feared she would be furious and let him feel it. But to his surprise, his mother had told him that Mac wasn't furious at all but instead begged him to meet them and take her back to where the whole horrible affair had started. Relieved but still afraid, he had caught the first flight out of D.C.
Indeed - Mac had appeared genuinely glad to see him. Yet, there was something to her appearance that left him unsettled. She seemed more fragile and would often look at him with wide, sad eyes when she thought he wouldn't notice. Her attitude towards him kept changing back and forth between happy that he was with her and sadly resigning to her fate, apparently considering it final. Right now, calling her 'Sarah' didn't seem so very unusual anymore - true, she was still strong, but at the same time more female than he'd ever seen her. And the way she seemed to unconsciously seek his closeness made it harder every day to keep his emotional distance.
It was almost as if she were hoping to... but no. She had made it clear she wanted to stay focused on fighting her amnesia - without being sidetracked by additional emotional strain. Although it was hard, he agreed wholeheartedly. After all - wasn't this exactly what he was trying to achieve by drawing back? To really give her the chance to rediscover herself. The quicker she got to that point, the better - and the moment she would, he'd be the first to confess anything and everything that was on his mind.
Besides, Harm didn't trust himself that, if he let her come close as long as she was still trying to redefine her character, he'd always look out for traces of 'Mac' in 'Sarah' - and she was sure to notice. Wouldn't the eternal frustration of thinking she wasn't whom he wanted her to be prove lethal to their love in the end?
"So this is where it happened?" Mac shook him from his reverie. She was leaning on her crutches, letting her eyes slowly sweep across the big open space where she'd been shot.
"Yeah," he answered, just a little hoarse as the memories she was searching for invaded his own head instead. He motioned for her to follow him and hoping his feelings wouldn't overwhelm him, he pointed out the exact spot she had been lying in.
Mac carefully got down on her knees and then lay down, as if she were trying to let the perspective help her remember. However, after a few minutes of intense concentration, she reached out for him to help her up again.
He didn't even need to ask if she remembered. When he met her eyes, the defeat showing in them threatened to choke him. He gently brushed a little dust off her blue dress without saying anything. Then, he wordlessly showed her the cave they had found Sergei, Chloe and AJ in.
It was then that the first tears rose to her eyes. "I don't even remember ever coming here... and you said it was one of my uncle's favorite spots..."
"Oh, Sarah, I'm so sorry," he breathed, her grief tearing him apart. Yet, he refrained from taking her into his arms as he was yearning to. He was sure she wouldn't have appreciated if he picked up on her momentary weakness.
Silent, they made their way back to the SUV and headed for a nearby motel. Never letting show that he had noticed, Harm saw and heard all too well that Mac was crying silently during the whole ride. Crying over yet another shattered hope to find a thread that would lead her back to herself. But if even returning to the roots of evil didn't help, what on Earth would? Harm gripped the wheel tighter in suppressed rage.
Once arrived at the quiet little motel, Harm walked her up to her door, wanting to make sure she was well settled. But just as he was about to bid her goodnight, turn away and leave for his own room, she startled him by pulling him into a tight hug and burying her face on his chest, still sobbing a little from time to time.
Her sudden physical closeness threatened to unravel his resolve to stay away. Hesitantly, but unable to hold himself back, he put his arms around her and caressed her back, burying his nose in her hair.
Without her sense of timing, Harm had no idea just how long they had stood there, never uttering a syllable, just holding on to each other as they would to dear life. Eventually however, Mac pulled back slightly.
Harm let his arms drop. "You okay?" he asked, carefully studying her features.
She swallowed. "I guess."
He noticed she still had her arms around his neck and didn't give any indication of wanting to take them away. Unsure what he should do, and silently savoring this small reminder of his happiest hour, four weeks ago, when he'd been just as close to her, he stayed where he was, motionless.
Seconds turned into minutes and he felt himself tense under the scrutiny of her huge, dark eyes. So familiar and yet so far away from all that had ever been between them. Unable to stand the situation any longer, he cleared his throat. "Uh, I guess I should..."
"Stay," she cut in, her voice a begging whisper.
Aghast, he was still desperately searching for the right answer when he suddenly became aware of just how close she had moved to him. Cold fear and burning desire shot through his veins at the same time, threatening to paralyze him. If he didn't react quickly, his would be a hopeless case.
"Mac..." he croaked out very low, his eyes glued to hers, feeling he was losing himself in that incredible humid brown warmth.
A low moan escaped his throat when she silenced him effectively by fully closing the distance. His knees threatened to buckle when he felt the fullness of her velvety lips on his, grazing, probing, teasing...
Time froze as a myriad of thoughts and emotions flooded his mind. His Sarah was seeking closeness. Was offering him the very physical contact he'd been yearning for ever since their oh so short hour of mutual happiness. Yet, this wasn't her. What if he gave in and she turned out a different person altogether? The changes the last weeks had caused in her were considerable already. Would it really be her he committed to - or would it be the memory of the second woman he had lost forever?
This was about Mac - and yet it was Diane all over again. Only now did he remember just how heart-wrenching and painful losing her had been. Had he lost Mac just as he had lost her? Or would he lose Sarah eventually if she broke under the emotional baggage he was carrying along?
All these thoughts had taken no more than a split second to make themselves known in his conscious. However, their impact was nothing compared to the sheer force with which the feel of her lips on his was pulling him away from everything he had sworn he'd cling to.
Before he even had the time to notice what he was doing, his arms went around her body, frantically pulling her close as his lips started to mimic her actions. He was reveling in the achingly beautiful awareness that finally, finally, she was where she belonged: close to him. And he was yearning to feel her as close as they could possibly get to each other.
It would have been so easy.
It would have been so wrong.
As quickly as it had started, the kiss was broken, and he hurriedly stepped back, as if the distance he put between them might keep his emotions at bay.
"Harm," she whispered, shaken, her eyes wide and terrified.
Swallowing heavily and resisting the urge to scream, he only shook his head, slowly, sadly.
"Why?" she asked, her voice threatening to break.
"You know the reason," he choked out, turning around and escaping to the solitude of his room before he could destroy their last hopes of ever regaining what they'd once so briefly shared.
To be continued... (Feedback - as always - highly appreciated!)
This story is set in the middle of season 7, just after 'Answered Prayers'.
From part seven:
True, Harm's insisting on taking the last flight back from the carrier, knowing he might be flying into bad weather, just because he wanted to be there for the wedding, might seem like an admission of feelings other than friendship that he just never dared to voice. But as you can see, it wasn't that at all. Still, the dreadful hours praying that the search teams would find him did make things clearer to me. Not immediately, but in the long run. At that moment, my feelings for him ran deeper than they did for you - and that simply isn't a ground one should base a lifelong commitment on. I am glad we didn't. The events of that night saved me from settling for something that would have made neither me nor you happy in the end. There was no other man involved - there just wasn't enough involvement with the man who wanted me.
I only hope that someday you will meet the woman who will be able to give you all the love you would have wished I had for you.
Be safe, Mic. As a friend, I will still be there for you, should you ever need me.
Always, Sarah
It was nearly half an hour after she had finished reading the letter for the third time that Sarah Mackenzie could make up her mind, reach for her crutches and return to the house. Back in her room, she immediately lay down, hoping a little sleep would set her mind at ease and restore her emotional strength.
She would need all of it, digesting what she had just learned.
Part Eight:
Jan. 26th 1828 ZULU Burnett Residence La Jolla, California
Trish Burnett asked herself yet again if she was doing the right thing. She had been battling her conscience for the better part of the last ten days. Eventually she had come to the conclusion that this was something she just had to do.
She knew well that she had promised her son not to reveal her identity and her connection with him. She had even ridded her house of every picture or object that might have tipped her guest off. But seeing how much the poor woman was suffering from the situation and how she was fighting her anxieties all by herself, had long since deprived Trish of a good night's sleep.
Although he had never admitted to anything, Trish knew Harm loved Sarah Mackenzie and that he was at the verge of breaking from the burden he was shouldering trying to help her. His voice, when he had first called her, had been so unlike his normal self Trish had been shocked. Yet, she had been willing to respect his wish to stay anonymous. Mac knew Trish had a son, but this was it.
It had been knowing Mac herself that had made Trish reconsider her decision. She had always been very curious to get a glimpse at the woman that held her commitment-shy son's heart captive like she did. Harm had warned her not to get a wrong impression of her, claiming Mac was far from her true self right now. And yet, Trish was sensitive enough to distinguish between Mac's anxiety and the strong personality that lay beneath it.
Apart from being an exceptionally beautiful woman, Mac was an impressive person to be acquainted with. Trish was thrilled to see to whom Harm had devoted his heart. And she had soon been able to read between the lines that - be it old or recent - a flame akin to that in Harm's soul was burning within Mac, too. Trish felt she was unable to sit by and just watch as these two were slowly drowning in despair, about the situation as well as about being apart from each other.
Silently vowing to herself that she wouldn't chicken out and ignoring her conscience that reminded her of her promise to Harm, Trish now carefully neared the figure that was sitting on a barstool at the kitchen counter, terry-robe-clad shoulders slumped, cheeks very pale, listlessly stirring the cocoa in the oversized cup in front of her. Trish had witnessed a lot of grief within the young woman, but today, Mac looked truly done. Something seemed to add to her already troubled state of mind, and Trish swore she'd ease that haunted look in those beautiful eyes of hers.
As gently as possible, she placed her hand on Mac's shoulder. Yet, the younger woman jumped and spilled a little of the warm, brown liquid from her cup.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, Mrs. Burnett," she immediately apologized, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. A reaction as strong as this only reaffirmed Trish's suspicion that something was indeed very, very wrong.
"Never mind, dear," she said with a soothing smile, reaching for a Kleenex and wiping the cocoa away with a swift brush. Then, she settled down on the stool beside her guest, examining her more closely. The young woman had dark circles under her eyes and was indeed frighteningly pale. "Are you unwell this morning?" Trish asked, concerned.
A feeble smile lit up Mac's face. "Just lack of sleep, nothing serious."
"Is there anything we can do to make you more comfortable?" Trish inquired, knowing full well this wasn't the cause of her insomnia but she wanted to get her to talk.
"No, thank you, ma'am," Mac answered quickly, apparently eager to set her hostess at ease. "I'm just dealing with a few problems. I guess worrying too much kept me from sleeping last night. But I was planning on returning to bed after I had finished this cup. Cocoa often works wonders."
Trish smiled. "Yes, it does. However..." She hesitated but then thought 'To hell with it!' and took the plunge. "Sometimes, talking about what's troubling you is even more effective. So if you need someone to just listen - I'm here." She fixed her gaze to Mac's, hoping she would be able to see in her eyes just how much she wanted her to open up.
After a few seconds of pondering the issue in her heart, Mac - to Trish's infinite relief and joy - took the offered hand. "Mine is a very complicated case," she began in a low voice. "I don't know if you'll really..."
"Just try me," Trish cut in gently.
Mac smiled a little. "Okay... thank you." She sighed, looking into her cup again. When she spoke, her voice was very low. "I don't quite know where to start so if I mix things up too much, just ask." Trish only nodded. Mac went on, "Well, to make a long story short, it's not an accident I'm recovering from. In case Commander Rabb didn't tell you: I'm a fellow officer of his and we both got shot while rescuing his brother, my adopted sister and our godson from their kidnappers."
Trish felt her heart stop beating. "Ha..." she cleared her throat, to cover up her slip just as well as because her voice had suddenly failed its service. "Commander Rabb was hurt, too? He never told me what exactly had happened. Good God, I might have come close to..." Stopping herself just in time, Trish drew a shaky breath and tried to look far more at ease than she felt. She wasn't supposed to appear this shaken by some news about a casual acquaintance.
Yet, the moment she met Mac's eyes, Trish knew she had crossed the line. The young woman had tensed and fear was shining in her eyes - fear of other people being dishonest with her, as Trish could easily read on her features.
With obvious strain, Mac inquired quietly, "You know about my situation, don't you? Commander Rabb told you. And you're not just some friend. Am I right?"
Sighing deeply, Trish didn't resist the urge anymore to make physical contact. Surprising her conversation partner, she placed her hand on Mac's and squeezed it tenderly. "Please, don't be angry with my son, darling. All he ever thinks about is keeping you safe, physically and emotionally. He was so afraid to let you fight this on your own. So he enlisted my help, making me promise I wouldn't say a thing. I know Harm can be stubborn and over-protective, but if you knew just how much he depends on you as his friend, you'd understand why he does what he does. Please," Trish begged again, "Don't hold his disposition against him."
Mac just stared at her, aghast, never trying to free her hand. "So you're..."
"Former Mrs. Harmon Rabb, Sr., yes," Trish finished her sentence with an apologetic smile. "But, please, call me Trish, will you?"
Swallowing, Mac nodded. "Call me Sarah," she answered, her voice uneven. "Seems your son knows me very well indeed," she continued, staring into her cup again as if she could find some answers in her private cocoa oracle. "He knew I'd never have come here had I known who you are."
Trish felt a slight sting but chose to ignore it, knowing the statement hadn't been directed against her. Deciding the issue had been pushed over the edge anyway, she asked, "I'm glad you did, though. Has your time here helped to clear anything for you yet?"
Sighing, Mac finally took a sip from her cup and closed her eyes as she let the soothing drink run down her gullet. When she looked at Trish again, the older woman could see her gaze was clearer and more relaxed. Mac had obviously made her peace with the situation.
"Yeah, actually I think I made quite a bit of headway," she explained. "I learned a lot of things about my career and about quite a few cases I worked on. I've started reacquainting myself with the law and I find I remember more than I thought I would." Her voice turned a little defeated when she went on. "It's just my private life that I can't seem to get a grip on. Sarah, the Colonel, is present. Sarah, the woman, isn't. And the few things I did find out are confusing the hell out of me..." She let her voice trail off.
"For instance?" Trish probed gently. She had a distinct feeling she was getting close to the bottom of her guest's current state of mind.
As if to steady herself, Mac drew a deep breath. Her gaze had turned frightened again. "Well, I guess you might know some about it as the affair affected Harm big time," she began, clearly uneasy. "You know where Harm was going when he went down at sea last May, right?"
Trish closed her eyes and waited for the stab of pain to dissipate. She remembered clearly getting the news of his downed plane, just like she had received them 32 years prior to that day... "Your wedding," she replied in a low voice when she felt she could breathe again. "Do you remember anything of that night?"
Mac shook her head. "No, I don't" she murmured, pain ringing in her words, "Not a single thing. But I wish I did. Then maybe this letter would start making some sense."
Only now did Trish become aware of the sheet of paper lying on Mac's lap. With a questioning glance, she tentatively reached for it and Mac nodded, allowing her to take it. With considerable trepidation, Trish began to read, but the feeling soon turned into relaxation and understanding as the pieces suddenly began to fall into place in her mind.
When she had finished, she handed the worn paper back to Mac. "I can see how this must make you uneasy," she commented quietly, supplying the opening she hoped Mac would use to inquire after anything she might want to know.
"Trish, can I ask you something?" Mac promptly came forth.
"I don't know if I'll be able to answer but sure, go ahead," Trish encouraged her.
Mac took another sip of her cocoa. "There's one thing that really doesn't make any sense at all," she began and with a smile, Trish spoke up.
"Your relationship with my son."
Actually blushing slightly, it was Mac's turn to smile. "Is it that obvious?"
"Honey, it's the one thing I've been trying to figure out ever since he mentioned you for the first time," Trish told her, sobering a little. "If you feel that this... whatever it is... might be the key to some essential parts of your personal history, I'd say your assumption is absolutely right. I don't have many details, but I do know my son pretty well - he's an emotional carbon copy of his father. So, what little I can tell you is this:
"Harm cares for you in a way I've seldom seen him care about anyone. It's obvious that the same goes for you. The two of you seem to have formed a bond so unique that you simply can't live without it. You'd do anything not to lose each other. Including consenting to see the other marry someone else, holding his or her personal happiness dearer than your own."
"And yet, Harm told me we were never in love..." Mac mused tonelessly, obviously stunned beyond recognition.
Knowing she was about to go farther than might be healthy, Trish felt she couldn't resist the urge to tell what she felt was nothing but the honest- to-God truth. "No, I'm sure those weren't his words," she contradicted quietly, watching the other woman's reaction closely. "I know they weren't because the answer he supplies whenever I touch the topic is very similar to what you said, but not quite the same. Still, the words never change. Whenever I ask him, 'Harm, are you and Mac in love with each other?' he's sure to answer, 'We were never lovers, if that's what you're asking,' and then he'll consider the matter as closed."
The little color that had previously returned to Mac's face had drained from it again. "That's just what he said," she whispered. Then, squaring her shoulders, she steadied her voice and asked, "Trish, was Harm in love with me before... this?"
With a sad smile, Trish lifted her shoulders and let them drop again, sighing. "Darling, I don't know for sure. He isn't exactly... forthcoming with information about his feelings. As far as I know, that character trait has caused the two of you problems more often than any normal friendship would have survived. But if you ask me, as his mother, I can only say yes, my son loved you from the bottom of his heart. And still does."
To her astonishment, Trish saw tears well up in Mac's eyes, but before she could ask for the reason, Mac explained of her own free will. "Right from the start of this ordeal, when Harm was there for me all the time, I knew I was in danger of falling for him," she said, her voice barely audible. "I tried not to, because I was afraid any additional emotional stress would throw me off track in full. But I couldn't help it..." She swallowed. "I'm in love with your son, Trish," she admitted. "And when I came across that letter it appeared to me as obvious as anything that there must have been something between the two of us. But his whole demeanor makes it very clear now that he doesn't consider me the woman he may once have loved."
Mac looked so helpless that Trish felt like crying herself but she gulped it down, waiting for Mac to elaborate. She did, her voice lower still. "Looking back, I think I even noticed it during our very first conversation after I came to. I couldn't place the feeling then but... It was like he laid something to rest. Like he tore that other woman from his heart, knowing I wasn't her anymore." A lone tear escaped her eye and made its way down her cheek. Yet, she apparently wanted to keep the upper hand about her feelings. "I know he's still my friend and believe me, I'll be forever grateful for that. But... to think that there might have been so much more... and now there never will..."
Physical and emotional exhaustion were taking their toll on her composure and finally, the already feeble façade broke down completely. All Trish could do was pull Mac into a firm embrace and hold her tight as all her built-up rage and grief culminated and gave way to bitter tears, breaking through with an irresistible force. Pressing her lips shut to keep her own emotions at bay, Trish allowed Mac to cry herself out to the verge of collapsing.
'Dear God, let my children find their way back to each other,' Trish prayed fervently, knowing that right now, chances were feeble at best that her wish be granted.
Jan. 29th 2357 ZULU Red Rock Mesa Arizona
With a smile that he knew was a little too confident, Harm pulled the rented SUV to a halt, jumped out and rounded the car to help Mac get out with her crutches. She didn't need them all the time anymore but he had insisted she bring them because the ground was uneven around here. And to have something that might convey some security. He felt she needed every last bit of it.
Three days ago, his mother had called him and had told him that Mac had found out about where he had placed her for her little vacation. He had dreaded meeting her because he had feared she would be furious and let him feel it. But to his surprise, his mother had told him that Mac wasn't furious at all but instead begged him to meet them and take her back to where the whole horrible affair had started. Relieved but still afraid, he had caught the first flight out of D.C.
Indeed - Mac had appeared genuinely glad to see him. Yet, there was something to her appearance that left him unsettled. She seemed more fragile and would often look at him with wide, sad eyes when she thought he wouldn't notice. Her attitude towards him kept changing back and forth between happy that he was with her and sadly resigning to her fate, apparently considering it final. Right now, calling her 'Sarah' didn't seem so very unusual anymore - true, she was still strong, but at the same time more female than he'd ever seen her. And the way she seemed to unconsciously seek his closeness made it harder every day to keep his emotional distance.
It was almost as if she were hoping to... but no. She had made it clear she wanted to stay focused on fighting her amnesia - without being sidetracked by additional emotional strain. Although it was hard, he agreed wholeheartedly. After all - wasn't this exactly what he was trying to achieve by drawing back? To really give her the chance to rediscover herself. The quicker she got to that point, the better - and the moment she would, he'd be the first to confess anything and everything that was on his mind.
Besides, Harm didn't trust himself that, if he let her come close as long as she was still trying to redefine her character, he'd always look out for traces of 'Mac' in 'Sarah' - and she was sure to notice. Wouldn't the eternal frustration of thinking she wasn't whom he wanted her to be prove lethal to their love in the end?
"So this is where it happened?" Mac shook him from his reverie. She was leaning on her crutches, letting her eyes slowly sweep across the big open space where she'd been shot.
"Yeah," he answered, just a little hoarse as the memories she was searching for invaded his own head instead. He motioned for her to follow him and hoping his feelings wouldn't overwhelm him, he pointed out the exact spot she had been lying in.
Mac carefully got down on her knees and then lay down, as if she were trying to let the perspective help her remember. However, after a few minutes of intense concentration, she reached out for him to help her up again.
He didn't even need to ask if she remembered. When he met her eyes, the defeat showing in them threatened to choke him. He gently brushed a little dust off her blue dress without saying anything. Then, he wordlessly showed her the cave they had found Sergei, Chloe and AJ in.
It was then that the first tears rose to her eyes. "I don't even remember ever coming here... and you said it was one of my uncle's favorite spots..."
"Oh, Sarah, I'm so sorry," he breathed, her grief tearing him apart. Yet, he refrained from taking her into his arms as he was yearning to. He was sure she wouldn't have appreciated if he picked up on her momentary weakness.
Silent, they made their way back to the SUV and headed for a nearby motel. Never letting show that he had noticed, Harm saw and heard all too well that Mac was crying silently during the whole ride. Crying over yet another shattered hope to find a thread that would lead her back to herself. But if even returning to the roots of evil didn't help, what on Earth would? Harm gripped the wheel tighter in suppressed rage.
Once arrived at the quiet little motel, Harm walked her up to her door, wanting to make sure she was well settled. But just as he was about to bid her goodnight, turn away and leave for his own room, she startled him by pulling him into a tight hug and burying her face on his chest, still sobbing a little from time to time.
Her sudden physical closeness threatened to unravel his resolve to stay away. Hesitantly, but unable to hold himself back, he put his arms around her and caressed her back, burying his nose in her hair.
Without her sense of timing, Harm had no idea just how long they had stood there, never uttering a syllable, just holding on to each other as they would to dear life. Eventually however, Mac pulled back slightly.
Harm let his arms drop. "You okay?" he asked, carefully studying her features.
She swallowed. "I guess."
He noticed she still had her arms around his neck and didn't give any indication of wanting to take them away. Unsure what he should do, and silently savoring this small reminder of his happiest hour, four weeks ago, when he'd been just as close to her, he stayed where he was, motionless.
Seconds turned into minutes and he felt himself tense under the scrutiny of her huge, dark eyes. So familiar and yet so far away from all that had ever been between them. Unable to stand the situation any longer, he cleared his throat. "Uh, I guess I should..."
"Stay," she cut in, her voice a begging whisper.
Aghast, he was still desperately searching for the right answer when he suddenly became aware of just how close she had moved to him. Cold fear and burning desire shot through his veins at the same time, threatening to paralyze him. If he didn't react quickly, his would be a hopeless case.
"Mac..." he croaked out very low, his eyes glued to hers, feeling he was losing himself in that incredible humid brown warmth.
A low moan escaped his throat when she silenced him effectively by fully closing the distance. His knees threatened to buckle when he felt the fullness of her velvety lips on his, grazing, probing, teasing...
Time froze as a myriad of thoughts and emotions flooded his mind. His Sarah was seeking closeness. Was offering him the very physical contact he'd been yearning for ever since their oh so short hour of mutual happiness. Yet, this wasn't her. What if he gave in and she turned out a different person altogether? The changes the last weeks had caused in her were considerable already. Would it really be her he committed to - or would it be the memory of the second woman he had lost forever?
This was about Mac - and yet it was Diane all over again. Only now did he remember just how heart-wrenching and painful losing her had been. Had he lost Mac just as he had lost her? Or would he lose Sarah eventually if she broke under the emotional baggage he was carrying along?
All these thoughts had taken no more than a split second to make themselves known in his conscious. However, their impact was nothing compared to the sheer force with which the feel of her lips on his was pulling him away from everything he had sworn he'd cling to.
Before he even had the time to notice what he was doing, his arms went around her body, frantically pulling her close as his lips started to mimic her actions. He was reveling in the achingly beautiful awareness that finally, finally, she was where she belonged: close to him. And he was yearning to feel her as close as they could possibly get to each other.
It would have been so easy.
It would have been so wrong.
As quickly as it had started, the kiss was broken, and he hurriedly stepped back, as if the distance he put between them might keep his emotions at bay.
"Harm," she whispered, shaken, her eyes wide and terrified.
Swallowing heavily and resisting the urge to scream, he only shook his head, slowly, sadly.
"Why?" she asked, her voice threatening to break.
"You know the reason," he choked out, turning around and escaping to the solitude of his room before he could destroy their last hopes of ever regaining what they'd once so briefly shared.
To be continued... (Feedback - as always - highly appreciated!)