The bullpen was quiet when she walked in… too quiet. The television screens that usually were tuned to ZNN were blank, and as she looked around the room, everyone studiously avoided her gaze.
Her growing sense of unease expanded into a knot of fear when Coates approached her and quietly told her the Admiral wanted to see her. As she followed the petty officer into the office, she ran through a mental list of everything he could possibly want to see her about… everything but the one thing she was most afraid of.
But when the door shut behind her and he lifted his head to look at her, she knew. She took in the new worry lines around his eyes and the sorrow lurking there, and she knew he was gone. His mouth moved and she knew he was telling her, but she couldn't hear a word he said over the sudden roaring in her ears.
Somehow, she managed to remain dry-eyed just long enough to get to the solitude of her own office. The tears were already running down her face when she closed the door and sank to the floor. One sentence pushed past her numb lips and she repeated it over and over as she rocked back and forth in grief. "I never told him…"
Sarah Mackenzie knew without looking that it was 0315. She also knew that the closest Harm had come to danger in the last few months was driving on the Beltway, but that knowledge didn't diminish the feeling of loss brought on by the dream.
She'd had the dream hundreds of times since meeting Harm. Each time it was almost identical, only details such as rank and support staff had changed over the years. The situation in the nightmare had never been borne out in real life, but her memory of it was so vivid, the line between fear and reality had blurred.
Fear is almost as powerful a stimulant as caffeine, and Mac knew she wouldn't be getting anymore sleep. Instead of trying, she slipped out of bed and started a pot of coffee, resigned to beginning her day early.
After two cups of coffee, she was restlessly pacing the apartment, needing to do something with her nervous energy. Almost without thinking, she got dressed and went down to her car. Only one place in DC was restful enough to calm her down.
She didn't notice the familiar car when she arrived 20 minutes later, but as she walked toward h is father's spot on the Wall, she saw him standing there. Unsure if she was interrupting a private moment, yet needing the comfort provided by this man and this place, she sidled closer.
She watched as he traced the name with his finger in a familiar gesture, and then realized he was starting to talk. She tried valiantly to not listen in, but when she heard her own name, all efforts flew out the window.
"Dad… Dad, ah Dad you know why I'm here. Every time Mac and I get close, every time we start to make a little progress, I have that blasted dream and I remember… I remember why I push her away."
In the eight years of their partnership, this was the one thing she had desperately wanted to know about him. What was it that caused the rubber band effect of his emotions; sometimes pulling her in and other times distancing himself? Now it seemed like she would finally find out, and the anticipation made her breathless.
"I can still see the look on Mom and Gram's faces when they knew you weren't coming home. I can still hear the tears Mom cried and the prayers she whispered at nights for you to come back."
"So that's what occupies Harmon Rabb's nightmares… that wrenching pain of losing his father so young." Her heart ached for the little boy he had been, witnessing first hand the pain of a shattered life—but she still didn't understand how it related to her.
"I know I was mad when she married Frank, and that I told her she was giving up on you. The truth is though that waiting for something that wasn't going to happen was killing her. She died a little bit everyday you didn't come home."
Images from her own dream flooded her mind, and she felt like she knew what Trish Rabb must have gone through, wanting desperately to go on with the future but unable to say good-bye to the past.
"And now, every time I think about letting Sarah in, I remember the haunted look Mom still gets when we talk about you. I may not be in danger daily like you were Dad, but I find plenty of trouble. I won't risk hurting Sarah like that… I love her too much."
She stared in shock as he leaned against the smooth stone the memorial. That was why he kept pulling away, because he didn't want to hurt her if he died? For a moment, she was torn between the urge to knock him upside the head for letting that ridiculous notion rule their lives, and the desire to kiss him for being so sweet… clueless, but sweet.
In the end, she didn't do either. Instead, she found her voice and said, "Shouldn't that be my choice?"
She watched his shoulders stiffen when he recognized her voice. As he turned to face her, she put on her best, "I'm a Marine—don't argue with me," expression and prepared for the most important conversation of her life.
Her growing sense of unease expanded into a knot of fear when Coates approached her and quietly told her the Admiral wanted to see her. As she followed the petty officer into the office, she ran through a mental list of everything he could possibly want to see her about… everything but the one thing she was most afraid of.
But when the door shut behind her and he lifted his head to look at her, she knew. She took in the new worry lines around his eyes and the sorrow lurking there, and she knew he was gone. His mouth moved and she knew he was telling her, but she couldn't hear a word he said over the sudden roaring in her ears.
Somehow, she managed to remain dry-eyed just long enough to get to the solitude of her own office. The tears were already running down her face when she closed the door and sank to the floor. One sentence pushed past her numb lips and she repeated it over and over as she rocked back and forth in grief. "I never told him…"
Sarah Mackenzie knew without looking that it was 0315. She also knew that the closest Harm had come to danger in the last few months was driving on the Beltway, but that knowledge didn't diminish the feeling of loss brought on by the dream.
She'd had the dream hundreds of times since meeting Harm. Each time it was almost identical, only details such as rank and support staff had changed over the years. The situation in the nightmare had never been borne out in real life, but her memory of it was so vivid, the line between fear and reality had blurred.
Fear is almost as powerful a stimulant as caffeine, and Mac knew she wouldn't be getting anymore sleep. Instead of trying, she slipped out of bed and started a pot of coffee, resigned to beginning her day early.
After two cups of coffee, she was restlessly pacing the apartment, needing to do something with her nervous energy. Almost without thinking, she got dressed and went down to her car. Only one place in DC was restful enough to calm her down.
She didn't notice the familiar car when she arrived 20 minutes later, but as she walked toward h is father's spot on the Wall, she saw him standing there. Unsure if she was interrupting a private moment, yet needing the comfort provided by this man and this place, she sidled closer.
She watched as he traced the name with his finger in a familiar gesture, and then realized he was starting to talk. She tried valiantly to not listen in, but when she heard her own name, all efforts flew out the window.
"Dad… Dad, ah Dad you know why I'm here. Every time Mac and I get close, every time we start to make a little progress, I have that blasted dream and I remember… I remember why I push her away."
In the eight years of their partnership, this was the one thing she had desperately wanted to know about him. What was it that caused the rubber band effect of his emotions; sometimes pulling her in and other times distancing himself? Now it seemed like she would finally find out, and the anticipation made her breathless.
"I can still see the look on Mom and Gram's faces when they knew you weren't coming home. I can still hear the tears Mom cried and the prayers she whispered at nights for you to come back."
"So that's what occupies Harmon Rabb's nightmares… that wrenching pain of losing his father so young." Her heart ached for the little boy he had been, witnessing first hand the pain of a shattered life—but she still didn't understand how it related to her.
"I know I was mad when she married Frank, and that I told her she was giving up on you. The truth is though that waiting for something that wasn't going to happen was killing her. She died a little bit everyday you didn't come home."
Images from her own dream flooded her mind, and she felt like she knew what Trish Rabb must have gone through, wanting desperately to go on with the future but unable to say good-bye to the past.
"And now, every time I think about letting Sarah in, I remember the haunted look Mom still gets when we talk about you. I may not be in danger daily like you were Dad, but I find plenty of trouble. I won't risk hurting Sarah like that… I love her too much."
She stared in shock as he leaned against the smooth stone the memorial. That was why he kept pulling away, because he didn't want to hurt her if he died? For a moment, she was torn between the urge to knock him upside the head for letting that ridiculous notion rule their lives, and the desire to kiss him for being so sweet… clueless, but sweet.
In the end, she didn't do either. Instead, she found her voice and said, "Shouldn't that be my choice?"
She watched his shoulders stiffen when he recognized her voice. As he turned to face her, she put on her best, "I'm a Marine—don't argue with me," expression and prepared for the most important conversation of her life.
