'Reaching for Sarah's Soul' - Conclusion
Author: Daenar
Disclaimer: See Part One
This story is set in the middle of season7, just after 'Answered Prayers'.
From part twelve:
To his overwhelming relief, she started moving again when he was only a mere ten yards away. Yet, what she was doing seemed strange. She seemed to reach for something on the ground before her and when she picked it up, she pulled her hand close to her face as if to examine what she held in her hand.
Panting, he finally dropped to his knees at her side. "Are you all right?" He cupped her face and examined the cut on her forehead that was bleeding considerably. When she didn't answer, he lifted her chin with his finger to meet her gaze.
Strangely, he didn't encounter physical pain. What he saw looked more like deepest confusion and absolute disorientation. "Sarah?" he asked softly, caressing her cheek. "Everything okay with you?"
"Not Sarah," she said in a barely audible voice. "It's Mac."
"What...?" he whispered, aghast, suddenly unable to get his thoughts into an order that was reasonable enough to make him understand her words.
Painfully slowly, her face contorting from the strain, she held out her hand to him.
On it lay a piece of the most delicate white golden chain he had ever seen - a pendant shaped like the outlines of a heart dangling freely from it.
Conclusion:
Just a few minutes earlier...
Away. She had to get away. From him. From here. From this pain. From this life.
It was too much to bear. She was drowning in despair and his tenderness was bound to push her over the edge for good. Violently freeing herself from his embrace, Sarah stumbled to her feet and set off in the first direction she turned her head in.
Away, just away from him. Run, run, run, never stop...
For a fleeting moment, Harm's frantic voice penetrated her conscious, crying out to her, begging her to stop and be careful. But Sarah knew she couldn't listen to him. She needed to go on. Away, just away...
She didn't care anymore - where she was going, where she placed her feet, what might happen to her if she fell, what her being injured might do to him... It just didn't matter. Sarah was sick of this life, sick of chasing after someone she didn't know although people told her it was herself. She was sick of feeling her heart being ripped apart by every glance Harm would throw in her way, by every word he said, by everything he did for her. She was sick of not being able to do anything for her personal happiness. It was too much.
Stumbling, retrieving her equilibrium just in time not to fall, she pushed herself forward. One basic force was driving her: pain. Harm loved her. Yet, Harm didn't love her. Harm longed to be with her. Yet, Harm wouldn't let himself be with her. Harm wanted her in his life. Yet, Harm excluded her from his life best as he could, even vowing to himself he would do so.
And there was nothing Sarah could have done to change the situation.
Last night, when - after hours of crying - she had made the decision to come out here again, she had laid all her hopes, all her expectations, all her wishes, all her strength... all her heart... into this one journey. She had fought until she had been at the verge of collapsing, had put everything on the line...
Nothing. Her past stayed where it was. In darkness.
So darkness was all Sarah had left to wish for.
Enraged, she sniffed and roughly wiped away her tears that were blurring her vision, never slowing down. Suddenly, her left foot encountered something irregular on the ground. She had no time to readjust her equilibrium, she stumbled and fell. An excruciating jolt of pain ran through her whole body when she hit the ground, making her scream. She rolled on downward, all the time desperately seeking for something to hold on to, to slow down her descent. In vain. Once more hitting her head violently on some rock, leaving her unable to breathe for a few seconds, her fall was finally halted.
Sarah felt something warm and sticky trickle from her forehead down her temple. Her whole body was in pain. She needed to move. She needed to get away... away... She couldn't...
All of a sudden, her eyes caught sight of something that for a split second gleamed on the reddish ground before her. Mechanically, she reached out, desperately trying to ignore her pain. It was a piece of a delicate white- golden necklace, all knotted up and torn, but there was a pendant hanging on it, gleaming despite the red dust it was thickly covered with. The outlines of a heart.
Time froze as slowly, achingly slowly, a thought made its way to Sarah's conscious. Everything around her slowed down to almost a stop.
'My whole body is in pain...'
Then, out of nowhere, a second...
'I need to get away... I need to save him...'
Totally unexpected, a third...
'I can't move... I'm dying...'
A fourth...
'Harm... save me... save me...'
'No, go back, get back to the car...'
'Take little AJ...'
'Run... blood... shooting... don't leave me... pain... run... I love you...'
It was then that it happened. As more and more bits and pieces arose from nowhere, quicker, mightier, assaulting her troubled mind without warning, fusing into a giant roar of thoughts, images, emotions, one single picture suddenly stayed firm in front of her mind's eye. A moment of clairvoyance in the eye of her mental storm:
Harm's face, distorted from the agony of seeing her die and being unable to save her. Having to make the hardest of decisions: her life or that of the child in his arms. She had known it was the last time she'd ever see him.
It had been her moment of letting go of everything that made her life worthwhile, of her most cherished dream that had finally come true just a few hours earlier.
Sarah's ultimate moment of sacrifice.
The pain was overwhelming. She had to get rid of it. She had to ban this image from her mind. She had to clear her brain from anything that might ever revive it again. She had to forget. About him. About what could have been. About everything... so she could die in peace. Forget, Sarah, forget...
Forget...
For...
Just then, Sarah made a tiny movement with the hand the heart-shaped pedant was lying in. A sunray caught in it in just the right angle. For a millisecond, its gleam was reflected directly into her eye...
Harm's pendant. Harm's gift of commitment. This was real. She was here. The pain lay in the past... in her hand lay her future... All Sarah needed to do was not forget.
And Mac decided she wouldn't.
Meanwhile...
"Are you all right?" Harm cupped her face and examined the cut on her forehead that was bleeding considerably. When she didn't answer, he lifted her chin with his finger to meet her gaze.
Strangely, he didn't encounter physical pain. What he saw looked more like deepest confusion and absolute disorientation. "Sarah?" he asked softly, caressing her cheek. "Everything okay with you?"
"Not Sarah," she said in a barely audible voice. "It's Mac."
"What...?" he whispered, aghast, suddenly unable to get his thoughts into an order that was reasonable enough to make him understand her words.
Painfully slowly, her face contorting from the strain, she held out her hand to him.
On it lay a piece of the most delicate white golden chain he had ever seen - a pendant shaped like the outlines of a heart dangling freely from it.
The pendant he had given her. The very one his father had given to his mother.
Great God.
His surroundings started to spin. He had to take one of his hands off her face and rest it on the ground to steady himself, squeezing his eyes shut against the sickening whirl. 'Not Sarah, it's Mac...'
"Mac..." he whispered, eyes still shut.
"Harm." He barely heard her answer. It was choked by a sob. A sob that almost sounded overwhelmed... with joy.
"Harm, it's me," he heard her speak up again, a slight tinge of trepidation creeping into her voice at his lack of reaction. "I won't ever leave you again," she added in almost a whisper.
Mac. And what if... He didn't dare trust his luck. He couldn't risk believing and losing her again.
"Harm, look at me," she pleaded, "Please... I remember you... I remember us... New Year..."
Trying to prepare for the emotional impact, he opened his eyes and met hers. Hope was shining in them, surprise, joy, expectance, love.
Should he, could he dare wager his soul?
"I could have told you about New Year," he said, his voice feeble. 'Stay rational, Rabb. That's the only thing that will save you if everything falls apart.'
Deep shock was mirrored on her features, and he saw fresh tears well up in her eyes. "Do you really think I would make this up...?" she asked, aghast, the words barely audible. "Do you think I'd betray..."
"I don't know what to think," he admitted, swallowing hard. "Trusting my luck was never advisable..."
"But I am here, Harm," she tried to make her point a little more firmly. "I am here with you, telling you that I love you, just like I did when you gave me this." With a trembling hand, she again held the pendant out to him.
He once again felt the need to contradict. For his own mental safety. "I so want to believe you," he told her in a shaky voice that threatened to break. "But I don't know how..."
And he had no idea what he could tell her to do to help him. 'Give me a sign, God,' he prayed silently, feeling the pressure in his chest was about to destroy him. 'Let me make the right choice.'
"And if I could prove it to you?" she asked. "Would you listen and try to judge objectively whether I'm right or wrong? Would you, Harm?"
This time, he was completely unable to fight the sudden surge of hope that took hold of his conscious. "Do you honestly think you could?" he whispered.
She nodded, swallowing. "Ask," she merely said. "Ask me whatever you want to know."
His first notion was to dismiss the thought from his mind. If he started digging and found she wasn't able to supply the answers he was looking for... But one more look into her beautiful brown eyes finally gave him the courage to face the hardest interrogation he had ever conducted. The one his life's happiness depended upon.
He drew a deep breath. "Okay... when we were in Svichevo, with Pitcha, and she told me that no one knew where my father was buried, what did she tell me her brother used to say?"
A wistful smile for a fraction of a second lit up her features. A smile that almost resembled those that people showed when they were contemplating memories that were special to them... Harm's heart was racing. Could it really be...?
"She said that her brother told her that the taiga was so big that only the birds knew where it ended."
The right answer. She had given him the right answer. Involuntarily, Harm reached for Mac's hand and held on to it as he would to a lifeline. Her touch was suddenly reassuring and firm in a gentle way, and her smile had deepened.
A lifeline... He had to be sure. Absolutely sure.
"What did you tell me on the admiral's porch when I said that in my world you'd die once you lost control?" He tried to still the trembling of his hand but couldn't bring himself to let hers go. His eyes were fixing hers, imploring her to answer correctly, now that his hopes were rising faster than ever. 'Please, Mac...'
"I told you you weren't flying a Tomcat and that you should let go of that lifeline before it became a noose."
Again. She had done it again. 'God, let her be right one last time and I swear I'll believe it's her. Just let her be right, please, God...'
He almost couldn't get the words out. His throat was strangled by the insufferable pressure that had accumulated within him. One last answer and he'd let it break free, one last answer...
"And what did I tell you when we had decided we should go in?" he asked, trembling, not knowing where to look, how to breathe, what to do...
"You have someone who'll always love you," she cited him literally. And when he finally dared to meet her gaze again, the fact that her answer had been correct slowly getting through to him, she went on, "And you have somebody that loves you..."
The same voice, the same tone, the same wording, the same emotions shining in her eyes.
In that precise moment, Harm let go of his lifeline.
He couldn't prevent himself from dropping her hand, curling up, still kneeling, resting his forearms on his thighs and burying his face in his hands. He sobbed once, twice... he felt Mac's arms going around him from the side, drawing him to her, making his head rest in her lap.
And then the tears came for real.
Feb. 21st 2338 ZULU Pueblo Motel Somewhere on the road to Phoenix Arizona
Shyly standing half a yard apart from him, Mac was holding the receiver to her ear as she pressed the loudspeaker button. Her eyes never left his - as they hadn't nearly all the time ever since he had cried himself out in her arms and then, suddenly freed of his immense burden, had only taken her by the hand, wordlessly led her to the car and set a course for home.
Every few seconds, his gaze had wandered from the road to her eyes that were fixed upon him, her angelic smile ever present. Neither of them had needed words to express what was going on. Eventually, he had decided it was getting too late to try and catch a flight home the same night. So he had, still wordlessly, followed the next sign indicating a motel. They had found it comfortable - and hadn't found the strength to object when the receptionist had wished Mr. and Mrs. Rabb a pleasant stay.
Once the door had closed behind them, neither had known what to do. No falling into each other's arms, no real contact even, only her hand in his. And their gazes locked as firmly as ever.
Eventually, she had found the courage to speak. "I'll call the admiral. He'll want to know."
"Now?"
"You think I shouldn't?"
He had thought about it for a second, but then had decided she was right. Their friends wanted to know. And the admiral was too dear a person to both of them not to relieve him from his grief and concern about her state. "No, it's okay. Go ahead."
He had accompanied her to the phone and now their smiles were broadening by the second as they heard the dial tone on the other end of the line, knowing they were about to communicate a miracle.
["Chegwidden."]
Mac cleared her throat. "Good evening, sir. This is Colonel Mackenzie." At the use of her rank, she winked at Harm whose heart did a little somersault.
["Colonel?"] They could tell the admiral was slightly confused but tried to go along her lines. ["Good evening, what can I do for you?"]
Mac quickly covered the receiver with her hand as both had to stifle their chuckles. Then, she drew a deep breath and tried to calm down again, giving Harm a look that made his breath catch in his throat. Her dark eyes were sparkling with merriment and affection as she smiled like she would at her co-conspirator who held a special place in her heart.
"Uh... I just wanted to let you know that I... ah... decided to apply for being reinstated to my position by July 1st. If that is convenient for you, sir."
The silence on the other end of the line spoke volumes. Just when Harm was about to urge Mac to say something, Chegwidden found his voice that was just a little hoarse. ["Is there anything else you might want to tell me, Sarah?"]
"It's Mac, sir," she said instead of a direct answer. Harm thought he was about to burst from suppressed laughter. A bottle of champagne couldn't have had more effect on him than the grin she threw him, again accompanied by a wink at hearing the admiral's question.
Seconds ticked by... three, four, five...
["Good Lord..."] the admiral breathed into the receiver rather shakily. ["How?"] he only managed to ask.
"Commander Rabb and I went to Arizona again, sir," Mac explained, every single word ringing with happiness, "And... I don't know... it just happened."
A deep sigh made its way over the phone line. ["I can't begin to tell you how glad I am to have you back,"] the admiral finally stated, apparently for once not even trying to conceal his feelings. ["Of course, as soon as you have them, we'll process the papers to get your reinstatement on the way. Now... where's that lucky son of a... so I can thank him?"]
Finally, Mac let her laughter bubble up, making Harm laugh out loud with her. He took the receiver she handed him, his voice overflowing with glee. "Admiral, sir?"
["How the hell did you do that, Commander?"] Chegwidden grumbled, trying to mask his emotions with his usual gruffness but failing miserably.
"I had no hand in it, sir," Harm answered truthfully, a little astonished at his CO's reaction. "Actually, it was by pure chance that Mac found..."
["Nonsense,"] the admiral cut him off. ["We all know to what extent you battled for the colonel's recovery. If there's any merit in this whole affair, it goes all to you. Understood?"]
"Understood, sir," Harm mumbled, embarrassed but genuinely pleased by the unexpected praise. "Thank you, sir."
["Do you have court this week, Commander?"]
"On Wednesday, the Dubois Article 32 I prep..." Harm didn't get any further.
["Then I'll see you on Wednesday, preferably with the colonel's file all prepared. Enjoy your time off."]
Unconsciously pulling himself up to attention, Harm joyfully acknowledged, "Aye, aye, sir!"
["And... Harm?"] Suddenly, the admiral's voice was gentler than they had ever heard him.
"Yes, sir?" Harm cast Mac a puzzled glance. She shrugged, pursing her lips.
["Take up where you left off when Lieutenant Sims called you. That's an order, son."]
"I had no intention not to, sir," Harm replied softly, feeling his cheeks starting to burn.
["Very well, carry on. Goodnight, Colonel, Commander."]
Mac quickly approached Harm so she could speak into the receiver together with him.
"Goodnight, sir."
"Goodnight, sir, thank you, sir."
With an openly smirking ["Dismissed!"] the line went dead - and Harm became aware that Mac's mouth was suddenly very close to his where they'd bent over the receiver together. When she turned and fully faced him, her lips were mere inches away from his. His heart started beating frantically.
This was it. No denying, no turning back. Now all he had to do was cross that line again. Three little words. 'You can do it, Hammer, you know you can,' he encouraged himself.
Drawing a decided breath, he gently laid his hands on her shoulders, drawing her closer until their bodies touched. "I don't recall exactly what we were saying or doing when Harriet called," he confessed shyly. "But how about I start with 'I love you'?"
"Wow," she answered in a low, happy voice, putting her arms around Harm's neck. "Facing the enemy head-on, right?"
"No," he contradicted with a smile, "Just tying up loose ends." Bending his head to the right, he leaned in and, his heart beating fast, finally felt her lips on his again. But unlike the day before, this was a kiss of welcome, not of goodbye. He felt her body mold to his and wrapped her in his arms, pulling her close, still not fully able to believe that nearly two months of unimaginable hardship for both of them had been overcome, at last.
As the kiss started to take up a life of its own, growing in passion and devotion, Harm had to break off again and he embarrassedly wiped away a few tears that had resurfaced when the reality of the moment had hit him full force.
"Sorry, honey," he whispered, his shoulders shaking in a mixture of laughter and crying. Shaking his head at himself, he tried to pull himself together and be there for her in full, but the long suppression of his feelings had worn out his strength. All he managed was a lopsided, watery smile.
Mac's voice wasn't entirely stable either. "Don't worry, we've got all the time in the world," she answered just as low, kissing a few tears away from his cheeks. "And just in case you were wondering: I love you, too."
Hearing those words, he captured her lips with his again for a long moment, needing a physical confirmation of what he had longed to hear for so long. Then he broke the contact and drew back slightly so he could just look at her. "Thank you for never giving in."
"Thank you for never giving up on me," she replied softly. "Now who owes whom?"
"I guess we're pretty much even." He brushed a strand of hair from her cheek, caressing the soft skin he had forever longed to touch. All of a sudden, he felt a heated urge to discover this same softness on her shoulders, on her back, on her legs, everywhere. But he forced himself not to let his desire show too openly. Their relationship was still fragile. Rushing things could turn out fatal in the end.
Yet, Mac spared him the effort to hold back. "If I recall correctly," she said into the crook of his neck that she had buried her nose in, "We were discussing that there was still enough left of the night for... well... getting acquainted, when Harriet called."
He chuckled at the memory, running his right hand through her hair. "Yeah..." He sobered. It was obvious what she wanted him to do, but he had to at least warn her. "Do you really think... after all that's happened... that you're ready to take that step, Mac?" he asked tenderly, hoping she didn't hear the anticipation he couldn't help feeling at her insinuation.
She looked up at him, her eyes as clear and warm as he'd ever seen them, her determination and caring evident. "I'm as ready as I could ever be," she answered softly. "I already was on New Year's Eve. But if the past weeks have had any influence at all on my feelings towards you, then they've deepened them in a way I'd never have thought possible. Getting so near to each other is mainly a matter of deep trust - and you've shown me all over again just how deeply I can trust you, no matter what. Tell me, what more does it need to be ready for that step?" The love inherent in her gaze was almost tangible, when her expression suddenly turned afraid. "Or are you having doubts that you yourself might not be ready yet? You know, you can always tell me..."
He pulled her close again, burying his nose in her hair. "No, I'm ready, if you are. It's just all a little... overwhelming."
"Definitely," she agreed against his chest, chuckling nervously.
"Tell me," he asked, following a sudden strange notion, "What are you planning on doing until July? So much spare time..."
She looked up again. "Honestly, I have no idea. I just thought going into reserves and returning to active duty such a short time later might seem very weird in my service record. That's bound to raise unpleasant questions. Half a year seems a decent time to get something else done, make up your mind and return, right? I might just take a post-grad course in international law or something."
"So you might have a little time to go house-hunting?"
She looked as astonished as he'd expected. "Maybe, but why should I ..."
He placed a quick kiss on her lips to silence her. "I'm not too sure I want to continue this my-place/your-place kind of thing, now that we're an item. Let's have 'our' place instead. What do you say?"
"Move in together?" she shook her head incredulously. "Flyboy, once you make up your mind you take it all the way, right?"
Hoping she wouldn't notice just how madly his heart had started to race, he nodded earnestly, his eyes never leaving hers. "I've come too damn close to losing you once too often," he declared sincerely. "I'd be foolish not to draw any consequences this time." He held out his hand to her, handing her the torn necklace. "I know this is no ring, but I'm handing you my heart, Mac. Marry me?"
'Radiant' hardly described the way she smiled at him. Her eyes shining with pure joy, she took the necklace from his hand and slid it into the breast pocket of her shirt. "I've come too damn close to losing you to say no," she answered lovingly.
His joy needed a valve. He lifted her off the ground and held her close, marveling briefly at how light she was for being so tall. "Now, was that 'Sarah' or 'Mac' speaking?" he inquired, looking up to her, one eyebrow up high.
Finally laughing freely, she slightly smacked him on the back of his head. "Don't you ever dare playing me off against myself," she threatened.
"Or else what?" he mocked her, whirling her around and laughing with her, never wanting to leave this emotional all-time high behind.
"You'll meet my wrath," she announced, trying to sound menacing but failing miserably as a new fit of laughter began to shake her.
"Whose wrath?" he couldn't help pushing the topic farther. "Sarah's? That might be hard on my conscience. Or do you mean Mac's? Well, that's sure to be rough on my body. Do I get a vote in that?"
Her grin had turned just a little malicious. "Jerk..." she hissed, giggling as he tickled her. When he stopped, she only fixed her stern gaze to his, the latent grin threatening to break through the earnest mask far too easily. "How about simply 'mine'?"
He feigned disappointment. "How boring."
"Just you wait, sailor," she countered, "You'd better get used to having 'me' around 24/7 now, or else you'll come to know just how tiring a ménage à trois can be."
"Ménage à trois?" he asked, comprehending just a little too late.
"Okay, make that a ménage à quatre: you, me, Sarah and Mac. How about that?"
He set her down on her feet and raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Dear God, three of your caliber? Are you trying to kill me, Marine? But, you know, I'll take anything as long as I can have you."
"Then let's forget about multiple personalities, okay? I know a place where there's only room for two right now..." Her voice was velvety and seductive.
"Yeah," he answered, his words suddenly devoid of any mockery. Only the warmth of his love prevailed when he added, "Our life."
THE END
This story is set in the middle of season7, just after 'Answered Prayers'.
From part twelve:
To his overwhelming relief, she started moving again when he was only a mere ten yards away. Yet, what she was doing seemed strange. She seemed to reach for something on the ground before her and when she picked it up, she pulled her hand close to her face as if to examine what she held in her hand.
Panting, he finally dropped to his knees at her side. "Are you all right?" He cupped her face and examined the cut on her forehead that was bleeding considerably. When she didn't answer, he lifted her chin with his finger to meet her gaze.
Strangely, he didn't encounter physical pain. What he saw looked more like deepest confusion and absolute disorientation. "Sarah?" he asked softly, caressing her cheek. "Everything okay with you?"
"Not Sarah," she said in a barely audible voice. "It's Mac."
"What...?" he whispered, aghast, suddenly unable to get his thoughts into an order that was reasonable enough to make him understand her words.
Painfully slowly, her face contorting from the strain, she held out her hand to him.
On it lay a piece of the most delicate white golden chain he had ever seen - a pendant shaped like the outlines of a heart dangling freely from it.
Conclusion:
Just a few minutes earlier...
Away. She had to get away. From him. From here. From this pain. From this life.
It was too much to bear. She was drowning in despair and his tenderness was bound to push her over the edge for good. Violently freeing herself from his embrace, Sarah stumbled to her feet and set off in the first direction she turned her head in.
Away, just away from him. Run, run, run, never stop...
For a fleeting moment, Harm's frantic voice penetrated her conscious, crying out to her, begging her to stop and be careful. But Sarah knew she couldn't listen to him. She needed to go on. Away, just away...
She didn't care anymore - where she was going, where she placed her feet, what might happen to her if she fell, what her being injured might do to him... It just didn't matter. Sarah was sick of this life, sick of chasing after someone she didn't know although people told her it was herself. She was sick of feeling her heart being ripped apart by every glance Harm would throw in her way, by every word he said, by everything he did for her. She was sick of not being able to do anything for her personal happiness. It was too much.
Stumbling, retrieving her equilibrium just in time not to fall, she pushed herself forward. One basic force was driving her: pain. Harm loved her. Yet, Harm didn't love her. Harm longed to be with her. Yet, Harm wouldn't let himself be with her. Harm wanted her in his life. Yet, Harm excluded her from his life best as he could, even vowing to himself he would do so.
And there was nothing Sarah could have done to change the situation.
Last night, when - after hours of crying - she had made the decision to come out here again, she had laid all her hopes, all her expectations, all her wishes, all her strength... all her heart... into this one journey. She had fought until she had been at the verge of collapsing, had put everything on the line...
Nothing. Her past stayed where it was. In darkness.
So darkness was all Sarah had left to wish for.
Enraged, she sniffed and roughly wiped away her tears that were blurring her vision, never slowing down. Suddenly, her left foot encountered something irregular on the ground. She had no time to readjust her equilibrium, she stumbled and fell. An excruciating jolt of pain ran through her whole body when she hit the ground, making her scream. She rolled on downward, all the time desperately seeking for something to hold on to, to slow down her descent. In vain. Once more hitting her head violently on some rock, leaving her unable to breathe for a few seconds, her fall was finally halted.
Sarah felt something warm and sticky trickle from her forehead down her temple. Her whole body was in pain. She needed to move. She needed to get away... away... She couldn't...
All of a sudden, her eyes caught sight of something that for a split second gleamed on the reddish ground before her. Mechanically, she reached out, desperately trying to ignore her pain. It was a piece of a delicate white- golden necklace, all knotted up and torn, but there was a pendant hanging on it, gleaming despite the red dust it was thickly covered with. The outlines of a heart.
Time froze as slowly, achingly slowly, a thought made its way to Sarah's conscious. Everything around her slowed down to almost a stop.
'My whole body is in pain...'
Then, out of nowhere, a second...
'I need to get away... I need to save him...'
Totally unexpected, a third...
'I can't move... I'm dying...'
A fourth...
'Harm... save me... save me...'
'No, go back, get back to the car...'
'Take little AJ...'
'Run... blood... shooting... don't leave me... pain... run... I love you...'
It was then that it happened. As more and more bits and pieces arose from nowhere, quicker, mightier, assaulting her troubled mind without warning, fusing into a giant roar of thoughts, images, emotions, one single picture suddenly stayed firm in front of her mind's eye. A moment of clairvoyance in the eye of her mental storm:
Harm's face, distorted from the agony of seeing her die and being unable to save her. Having to make the hardest of decisions: her life or that of the child in his arms. She had known it was the last time she'd ever see him.
It had been her moment of letting go of everything that made her life worthwhile, of her most cherished dream that had finally come true just a few hours earlier.
Sarah's ultimate moment of sacrifice.
The pain was overwhelming. She had to get rid of it. She had to ban this image from her mind. She had to clear her brain from anything that might ever revive it again. She had to forget. About him. About what could have been. About everything... so she could die in peace. Forget, Sarah, forget...
Forget...
For...
Just then, Sarah made a tiny movement with the hand the heart-shaped pedant was lying in. A sunray caught in it in just the right angle. For a millisecond, its gleam was reflected directly into her eye...
Harm's pendant. Harm's gift of commitment. This was real. She was here. The pain lay in the past... in her hand lay her future... All Sarah needed to do was not forget.
And Mac decided she wouldn't.
Meanwhile...
"Are you all right?" Harm cupped her face and examined the cut on her forehead that was bleeding considerably. When she didn't answer, he lifted her chin with his finger to meet her gaze.
Strangely, he didn't encounter physical pain. What he saw looked more like deepest confusion and absolute disorientation. "Sarah?" he asked softly, caressing her cheek. "Everything okay with you?"
"Not Sarah," she said in a barely audible voice. "It's Mac."
"What...?" he whispered, aghast, suddenly unable to get his thoughts into an order that was reasonable enough to make him understand her words.
Painfully slowly, her face contorting from the strain, she held out her hand to him.
On it lay a piece of the most delicate white golden chain he had ever seen - a pendant shaped like the outlines of a heart dangling freely from it.
The pendant he had given her. The very one his father had given to his mother.
Great God.
His surroundings started to spin. He had to take one of his hands off her face and rest it on the ground to steady himself, squeezing his eyes shut against the sickening whirl. 'Not Sarah, it's Mac...'
"Mac..." he whispered, eyes still shut.
"Harm." He barely heard her answer. It was choked by a sob. A sob that almost sounded overwhelmed... with joy.
"Harm, it's me," he heard her speak up again, a slight tinge of trepidation creeping into her voice at his lack of reaction. "I won't ever leave you again," she added in almost a whisper.
Mac. And what if... He didn't dare trust his luck. He couldn't risk believing and losing her again.
"Harm, look at me," she pleaded, "Please... I remember you... I remember us... New Year..."
Trying to prepare for the emotional impact, he opened his eyes and met hers. Hope was shining in them, surprise, joy, expectance, love.
Should he, could he dare wager his soul?
"I could have told you about New Year," he said, his voice feeble. 'Stay rational, Rabb. That's the only thing that will save you if everything falls apart.'
Deep shock was mirrored on her features, and he saw fresh tears well up in her eyes. "Do you really think I would make this up...?" she asked, aghast, the words barely audible. "Do you think I'd betray..."
"I don't know what to think," he admitted, swallowing hard. "Trusting my luck was never advisable..."
"But I am here, Harm," she tried to make her point a little more firmly. "I am here with you, telling you that I love you, just like I did when you gave me this." With a trembling hand, she again held the pendant out to him.
He once again felt the need to contradict. For his own mental safety. "I so want to believe you," he told her in a shaky voice that threatened to break. "But I don't know how..."
And he had no idea what he could tell her to do to help him. 'Give me a sign, God,' he prayed silently, feeling the pressure in his chest was about to destroy him. 'Let me make the right choice.'
"And if I could prove it to you?" she asked. "Would you listen and try to judge objectively whether I'm right or wrong? Would you, Harm?"
This time, he was completely unable to fight the sudden surge of hope that took hold of his conscious. "Do you honestly think you could?" he whispered.
She nodded, swallowing. "Ask," she merely said. "Ask me whatever you want to know."
His first notion was to dismiss the thought from his mind. If he started digging and found she wasn't able to supply the answers he was looking for... But one more look into her beautiful brown eyes finally gave him the courage to face the hardest interrogation he had ever conducted. The one his life's happiness depended upon.
He drew a deep breath. "Okay... when we were in Svichevo, with Pitcha, and she told me that no one knew where my father was buried, what did she tell me her brother used to say?"
A wistful smile for a fraction of a second lit up her features. A smile that almost resembled those that people showed when they were contemplating memories that were special to them... Harm's heart was racing. Could it really be...?
"She said that her brother told her that the taiga was so big that only the birds knew where it ended."
The right answer. She had given him the right answer. Involuntarily, Harm reached for Mac's hand and held on to it as he would to a lifeline. Her touch was suddenly reassuring and firm in a gentle way, and her smile had deepened.
A lifeline... He had to be sure. Absolutely sure.
"What did you tell me on the admiral's porch when I said that in my world you'd die once you lost control?" He tried to still the trembling of his hand but couldn't bring himself to let hers go. His eyes were fixing hers, imploring her to answer correctly, now that his hopes were rising faster than ever. 'Please, Mac...'
"I told you you weren't flying a Tomcat and that you should let go of that lifeline before it became a noose."
Again. She had done it again. 'God, let her be right one last time and I swear I'll believe it's her. Just let her be right, please, God...'
He almost couldn't get the words out. His throat was strangled by the insufferable pressure that had accumulated within him. One last answer and he'd let it break free, one last answer...
"And what did I tell you when we had decided we should go in?" he asked, trembling, not knowing where to look, how to breathe, what to do...
"You have someone who'll always love you," she cited him literally. And when he finally dared to meet her gaze again, the fact that her answer had been correct slowly getting through to him, she went on, "And you have somebody that loves you..."
The same voice, the same tone, the same wording, the same emotions shining in her eyes.
In that precise moment, Harm let go of his lifeline.
He couldn't prevent himself from dropping her hand, curling up, still kneeling, resting his forearms on his thighs and burying his face in his hands. He sobbed once, twice... he felt Mac's arms going around him from the side, drawing him to her, making his head rest in her lap.
And then the tears came for real.
Feb. 21st 2338 ZULU Pueblo Motel Somewhere on the road to Phoenix Arizona
Shyly standing half a yard apart from him, Mac was holding the receiver to her ear as she pressed the loudspeaker button. Her eyes never left his - as they hadn't nearly all the time ever since he had cried himself out in her arms and then, suddenly freed of his immense burden, had only taken her by the hand, wordlessly led her to the car and set a course for home.
Every few seconds, his gaze had wandered from the road to her eyes that were fixed upon him, her angelic smile ever present. Neither of them had needed words to express what was going on. Eventually, he had decided it was getting too late to try and catch a flight home the same night. So he had, still wordlessly, followed the next sign indicating a motel. They had found it comfortable - and hadn't found the strength to object when the receptionist had wished Mr. and Mrs. Rabb a pleasant stay.
Once the door had closed behind them, neither had known what to do. No falling into each other's arms, no real contact even, only her hand in his. And their gazes locked as firmly as ever.
Eventually, she had found the courage to speak. "I'll call the admiral. He'll want to know."
"Now?"
"You think I shouldn't?"
He had thought about it for a second, but then had decided she was right. Their friends wanted to know. And the admiral was too dear a person to both of them not to relieve him from his grief and concern about her state. "No, it's okay. Go ahead."
He had accompanied her to the phone and now their smiles were broadening by the second as they heard the dial tone on the other end of the line, knowing they were about to communicate a miracle.
["Chegwidden."]
Mac cleared her throat. "Good evening, sir. This is Colonel Mackenzie." At the use of her rank, she winked at Harm whose heart did a little somersault.
["Colonel?"] They could tell the admiral was slightly confused but tried to go along her lines. ["Good evening, what can I do for you?"]
Mac quickly covered the receiver with her hand as both had to stifle their chuckles. Then, she drew a deep breath and tried to calm down again, giving Harm a look that made his breath catch in his throat. Her dark eyes were sparkling with merriment and affection as she smiled like she would at her co-conspirator who held a special place in her heart.
"Uh... I just wanted to let you know that I... ah... decided to apply for being reinstated to my position by July 1st. If that is convenient for you, sir."
The silence on the other end of the line spoke volumes. Just when Harm was about to urge Mac to say something, Chegwidden found his voice that was just a little hoarse. ["Is there anything else you might want to tell me, Sarah?"]
"It's Mac, sir," she said instead of a direct answer. Harm thought he was about to burst from suppressed laughter. A bottle of champagne couldn't have had more effect on him than the grin she threw him, again accompanied by a wink at hearing the admiral's question.
Seconds ticked by... three, four, five...
["Good Lord..."] the admiral breathed into the receiver rather shakily. ["How?"] he only managed to ask.
"Commander Rabb and I went to Arizona again, sir," Mac explained, every single word ringing with happiness, "And... I don't know... it just happened."
A deep sigh made its way over the phone line. ["I can't begin to tell you how glad I am to have you back,"] the admiral finally stated, apparently for once not even trying to conceal his feelings. ["Of course, as soon as you have them, we'll process the papers to get your reinstatement on the way. Now... where's that lucky son of a... so I can thank him?"]
Finally, Mac let her laughter bubble up, making Harm laugh out loud with her. He took the receiver she handed him, his voice overflowing with glee. "Admiral, sir?"
["How the hell did you do that, Commander?"] Chegwidden grumbled, trying to mask his emotions with his usual gruffness but failing miserably.
"I had no hand in it, sir," Harm answered truthfully, a little astonished at his CO's reaction. "Actually, it was by pure chance that Mac found..."
["Nonsense,"] the admiral cut him off. ["We all know to what extent you battled for the colonel's recovery. If there's any merit in this whole affair, it goes all to you. Understood?"]
"Understood, sir," Harm mumbled, embarrassed but genuinely pleased by the unexpected praise. "Thank you, sir."
["Do you have court this week, Commander?"]
"On Wednesday, the Dubois Article 32 I prep..." Harm didn't get any further.
["Then I'll see you on Wednesday, preferably with the colonel's file all prepared. Enjoy your time off."]
Unconsciously pulling himself up to attention, Harm joyfully acknowledged, "Aye, aye, sir!"
["And... Harm?"] Suddenly, the admiral's voice was gentler than they had ever heard him.
"Yes, sir?" Harm cast Mac a puzzled glance. She shrugged, pursing her lips.
["Take up where you left off when Lieutenant Sims called you. That's an order, son."]
"I had no intention not to, sir," Harm replied softly, feeling his cheeks starting to burn.
["Very well, carry on. Goodnight, Colonel, Commander."]
Mac quickly approached Harm so she could speak into the receiver together with him.
"Goodnight, sir."
"Goodnight, sir, thank you, sir."
With an openly smirking ["Dismissed!"] the line went dead - and Harm became aware that Mac's mouth was suddenly very close to his where they'd bent over the receiver together. When she turned and fully faced him, her lips were mere inches away from his. His heart started beating frantically.
This was it. No denying, no turning back. Now all he had to do was cross that line again. Three little words. 'You can do it, Hammer, you know you can,' he encouraged himself.
Drawing a decided breath, he gently laid his hands on her shoulders, drawing her closer until their bodies touched. "I don't recall exactly what we were saying or doing when Harriet called," he confessed shyly. "But how about I start with 'I love you'?"
"Wow," she answered in a low, happy voice, putting her arms around Harm's neck. "Facing the enemy head-on, right?"
"No," he contradicted with a smile, "Just tying up loose ends." Bending his head to the right, he leaned in and, his heart beating fast, finally felt her lips on his again. But unlike the day before, this was a kiss of welcome, not of goodbye. He felt her body mold to his and wrapped her in his arms, pulling her close, still not fully able to believe that nearly two months of unimaginable hardship for both of them had been overcome, at last.
As the kiss started to take up a life of its own, growing in passion and devotion, Harm had to break off again and he embarrassedly wiped away a few tears that had resurfaced when the reality of the moment had hit him full force.
"Sorry, honey," he whispered, his shoulders shaking in a mixture of laughter and crying. Shaking his head at himself, he tried to pull himself together and be there for her in full, but the long suppression of his feelings had worn out his strength. All he managed was a lopsided, watery smile.
Mac's voice wasn't entirely stable either. "Don't worry, we've got all the time in the world," she answered just as low, kissing a few tears away from his cheeks. "And just in case you were wondering: I love you, too."
Hearing those words, he captured her lips with his again for a long moment, needing a physical confirmation of what he had longed to hear for so long. Then he broke the contact and drew back slightly so he could just look at her. "Thank you for never giving in."
"Thank you for never giving up on me," she replied softly. "Now who owes whom?"
"I guess we're pretty much even." He brushed a strand of hair from her cheek, caressing the soft skin he had forever longed to touch. All of a sudden, he felt a heated urge to discover this same softness on her shoulders, on her back, on her legs, everywhere. But he forced himself not to let his desire show too openly. Their relationship was still fragile. Rushing things could turn out fatal in the end.
Yet, Mac spared him the effort to hold back. "If I recall correctly," she said into the crook of his neck that she had buried her nose in, "We were discussing that there was still enough left of the night for... well... getting acquainted, when Harriet called."
He chuckled at the memory, running his right hand through her hair. "Yeah..." He sobered. It was obvious what she wanted him to do, but he had to at least warn her. "Do you really think... after all that's happened... that you're ready to take that step, Mac?" he asked tenderly, hoping she didn't hear the anticipation he couldn't help feeling at her insinuation.
She looked up at him, her eyes as clear and warm as he'd ever seen them, her determination and caring evident. "I'm as ready as I could ever be," she answered softly. "I already was on New Year's Eve. But if the past weeks have had any influence at all on my feelings towards you, then they've deepened them in a way I'd never have thought possible. Getting so near to each other is mainly a matter of deep trust - and you've shown me all over again just how deeply I can trust you, no matter what. Tell me, what more does it need to be ready for that step?" The love inherent in her gaze was almost tangible, when her expression suddenly turned afraid. "Or are you having doubts that you yourself might not be ready yet? You know, you can always tell me..."
He pulled her close again, burying his nose in her hair. "No, I'm ready, if you are. It's just all a little... overwhelming."
"Definitely," she agreed against his chest, chuckling nervously.
"Tell me," he asked, following a sudden strange notion, "What are you planning on doing until July? So much spare time..."
She looked up again. "Honestly, I have no idea. I just thought going into reserves and returning to active duty such a short time later might seem very weird in my service record. That's bound to raise unpleasant questions. Half a year seems a decent time to get something else done, make up your mind and return, right? I might just take a post-grad course in international law or something."
"So you might have a little time to go house-hunting?"
She looked as astonished as he'd expected. "Maybe, but why should I ..."
He placed a quick kiss on her lips to silence her. "I'm not too sure I want to continue this my-place/your-place kind of thing, now that we're an item. Let's have 'our' place instead. What do you say?"
"Move in together?" she shook her head incredulously. "Flyboy, once you make up your mind you take it all the way, right?"
Hoping she wouldn't notice just how madly his heart had started to race, he nodded earnestly, his eyes never leaving hers. "I've come too damn close to losing you once too often," he declared sincerely. "I'd be foolish not to draw any consequences this time." He held out his hand to her, handing her the torn necklace. "I know this is no ring, but I'm handing you my heart, Mac. Marry me?"
'Radiant' hardly described the way she smiled at him. Her eyes shining with pure joy, she took the necklace from his hand and slid it into the breast pocket of her shirt. "I've come too damn close to losing you to say no," she answered lovingly.
His joy needed a valve. He lifted her off the ground and held her close, marveling briefly at how light she was for being so tall. "Now, was that 'Sarah' or 'Mac' speaking?" he inquired, looking up to her, one eyebrow up high.
Finally laughing freely, she slightly smacked him on the back of his head. "Don't you ever dare playing me off against myself," she threatened.
"Or else what?" he mocked her, whirling her around and laughing with her, never wanting to leave this emotional all-time high behind.
"You'll meet my wrath," she announced, trying to sound menacing but failing miserably as a new fit of laughter began to shake her.
"Whose wrath?" he couldn't help pushing the topic farther. "Sarah's? That might be hard on my conscience. Or do you mean Mac's? Well, that's sure to be rough on my body. Do I get a vote in that?"
Her grin had turned just a little malicious. "Jerk..." she hissed, giggling as he tickled her. When he stopped, she only fixed her stern gaze to his, the latent grin threatening to break through the earnest mask far too easily. "How about simply 'mine'?"
He feigned disappointment. "How boring."
"Just you wait, sailor," she countered, "You'd better get used to having 'me' around 24/7 now, or else you'll come to know just how tiring a ménage à trois can be."
"Ménage à trois?" he asked, comprehending just a little too late.
"Okay, make that a ménage à quatre: you, me, Sarah and Mac. How about that?"
He set her down on her feet and raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Dear God, three of your caliber? Are you trying to kill me, Marine? But, you know, I'll take anything as long as I can have you."
"Then let's forget about multiple personalities, okay? I know a place where there's only room for two right now..." Her voice was velvety and seductive.
"Yeah," he answered, his words suddenly devoid of any mockery. Only the warmth of his love prevailed when he added, "Our life."
THE END