On the Edge
Author's Note: This is something that I wrote after the episode with Mac killing Sedik...What was that one called again? Well, I don't know. I also didn't know how to spell his name...Please forgive any error in that area. Hope you like it.
-------------- Harm's Apartment North of Union Station 2350 EST
My hand trembles as I lift it to the door for the second time today. After I left Sedik's apartment, I couldn't go home. I couldn't be alone. My mind is racing, going over the things that he said, the truths in what he was saying about me. I denied it to him, but is my life really barren?
It's been two minutes and thirty-three seconds since I lifted my hand to knock on Harm's door, and I still haven't done it. Why?
Lowering my hand, I shake my head and take a step away from the door. I can't go to him. I should be going home and being with Clay. Clay...Who isn't here. I sigh, tears suddenly flooding my eyes. What is wrong with me?
Harm's door opens and suddenly he's there, looking at me.
"Mac?" He asks, not too loudly. His hearing must be better. How did he know I was here?
"Harm...How did you know I was here?" I ask him, voicing my thoughts and trying not to think about the reason I'm here. He jerks his head in the direction of the apartment and I walk in, unsmiling and un-normal.
"I saw you pull up. Besides, I got a call from the CIA about an hour ago. I was hoping you'd come here." He says. I turn around and look at him as he leans against the now closed door. When did he close it?
"Harm, I killed him." I say softly, unable to look him in the eyes. My gaze is fixed on the watch on his wrist, as he braces his hands on his hips and takes a step in my direction.
"You had to, Mac. It was self defense." He tells me, his voice equally soft. His hearing must really be improving quickly. I shake my head.
"No, you don't understand. I shot him once in self defense. Then he was wounded, on the ground, and I shot him again. I killed him." I mutter, turning away from him and feeling my composure begin to crumble. All I want is for this to go away. I just don't know how to make it happen.
The weight of Harm's hand on my shoulder makes me turn my head and look at him. For the first time since he opened the door tonight, I look into his eyes. I have always loved his eyes, but now seeing the affection and concern in them is almost enough to make me cringe. I don't deserve that from him.
"Sarah, Sedik captured you and killed people right in front of you. He tortured someone that you-" He pauses, taking a breath and wincing slightly, "Someone that you love. Any one of those would be more than enough to make you hate him." He finishes, his voice constricted in what I recognize as pain as he describes Clay as someone I love.
"But I shouldn't have killed him. The CIA was almost there, they were going to arrest him. I knew that, but I did it anyway. I'm-I'm supposed to be better than that." I say, now unable to look away from his caring eyes as I try to convince him that I'm as guilty as I feel. He sighs heavily, and for a moment I can see the weight of age and stress in his features, and he looks old for the first time. That moment passes and suddenly I'm looking back at the Flyboy that I've known for eight years. The concerned, loving Flyboy.
"I know that this is all happening quickly, but maybe we should get you in to see a psychiatrist in the morning." He says. A shot of anger and betrayal pierces my confusion and pain, and I take a step back from him.
"You want to send me to a shrink? I'm not crazy, Harm!" I exclaim, my voice raised. Harm puts his hands up in a calming gesture, a surrender of sorts.
"Mac, I don't think you're crazy. I just want to make sure that this doesn't hurt you, okay? Killing a person can really screw with your mind, especially when you're as hard on yourself as you are inclined to be." He says calmly, taking the step toward me that I backed up. I shake my head.
"I don't need help, Harm. I am a Marine. I'm trained to kill people, for God's sake!" I shout at him, and he holds a finger to his lips.
"Quiet down. If Jennifer and Mattie hear you, they'll know something's up. You don't want that, do you?" He asks me, and suddenly I snap back to reality.
"No." I say quietly, looking at the floor. I hear him, feel him, step closer to me, then see his feet not too far from mine as I stare at them. He reaches out and lifts my chin with his index finger, forcing me to look into his eyes. I'm crying now, the tears flowing down my face.
"Sarah, I know that you're a Marine. I know you've been trained to kill. But I've known you for eight years. I know you. And whether you like it or not, I see the real you. You're not just a Marine. You're a woman, a human, and I know that you're a lot more fragile than you like to admit. I just want you to be okay." He whispers, looking so deeply into my eyes and being so honest and open that I can't help the additional tears that fall.
"Hold me, Harm." I choke out, feeling infinitely safer as he wraps his arms around me and pulls me close, holding me against his body and strengthening me just by his presence. His warmth envelopes me, and I can't help but bask in it.
For the first time in a long time, I weep openly. I weep for the coldness inside of me that let me kill an unarmed man, I weep for the truth in Sedik's accusations of my barren life...I weep for how confused I am right now, knowing what I'm capable of when the right buttons are pushed.
.
I didn't know it was humanly possible to cry for thirty-nine minutes and seventeen seconds, but I did somehow. Harm held me, comforted me, let me cry my eyes out and get his shirt wet.
My life may be barren, but I know what unconditional love feels like. It feels like this.
I pull away from him finally, sniffling and wiping my eyes. The large wet spot on his shirt almost makes me smile, and I look up at his face. I've never been more surprised in my life as I am when I see the tear-stained face of Harmon Rabb, crying with me. He wipes his eyes as well, almost looking embarassed but not quite.
"Feel any better?" He mutters, looking at me again. I shrug.
"I don't know. I guess. A little. I don't know." I breathe, still trying to catch my breath. He nods. For the first time tonight, his gaze wanders down my body, making stops at a few places along the way. Then he looks back at my face, a questioning look in his beautiful eyes. What's wrong?
Looking down at myself, I realize. My blouse is partially unbuttoned, blood stains the front. Shrugging my coat off, I throw it on his couch and a thrill of warmth shoots through me when I hear him suck in his breath in concern.
"Sarah..." He mutters, looking at my shoulder, which is bruising pretty badly now and hurts like hell. I self-consciously cross my good arm over my stomach, just under my breasts, to cover my exposed skin. Harm is slowly shaking his head, his eyes locked on mine. He reaches out one large hand and grasps mine, pulling it away from my stomach.
I'm almost too tired to walk as he leads me to the bedroom. I wonder for a second what he's doing, then remember who he is. He's my best friend, the man that cried with me for the last forty minutes. I trust him.
He leaves me near the foot of his bed and walks over to his dresser, where he opens a drawer and pulls out an ash-gray t-shirt and a pair of blue plaid pajama pants. Approaching me again, he puts the clothes on the bed and looks back up at me, his eyes asking me something that he won't. He's asking for permission. I nod slowly, unable to move or speak. I'm almost numb. This has been one hell of a day.
Harmon Rabb reaches forward tentatively to my blouse, slowly unbuttoning the top button and allowing the shirt to open a little more. He does the same with the other buttons until they're all undone, then slips the top off my shoulders, being extra cautious with my injured shoulder. As he slides the blouse off my arms, he leans forward and peppers the developing bruise with soft, barely-there kisses.
My eyes flutter shut and I sigh, finally feeling the torn blouse fall to my feet. Still kissing my shoulder softly, Harm reaches two strong arms around my waist and unclasps my skirt, unzipping it and letting it slide down my hips and into a puddle on the floor.
Then he stands up straight and looks down into my eyes. In my peripheral vision I see him pick up the t-shirt and unfold it. I lift my arms over my head and he puts the shirt on me, tucking my hair behind my ears after he smoothes the shirt out over my legs, as it's much too large.
The pajama pants follow, and I brace my hands on his shoulders as he stoops to help me put on the pants one leg at a time. My throbbing shoulder is the only reminder right now of what I went through tonight, as Harm literally sweeps me off my feet and gently places me on the bed, my head on his pillow.
Placing the comforter over me, he tucks me in and kisses my forehead.
"We'll take care of that shoulder in the morning." He whispers, smoothing my hair back from my face and just sitting next to me on the bed until I allow my eyes to drift shut. I fall asleep holding his hand in both of mine, cuddling with it, safe and momentarily forgetting the reason that I'm here in the first place.
Author's Note: This is something that I wrote after the episode with Mac killing Sedik...What was that one called again? Well, I don't know. I also didn't know how to spell his name...Please forgive any error in that area. Hope you like it.
-------------- Harm's Apartment North of Union Station 2350 EST
My hand trembles as I lift it to the door for the second time today. After I left Sedik's apartment, I couldn't go home. I couldn't be alone. My mind is racing, going over the things that he said, the truths in what he was saying about me. I denied it to him, but is my life really barren?
It's been two minutes and thirty-three seconds since I lifted my hand to knock on Harm's door, and I still haven't done it. Why?
Lowering my hand, I shake my head and take a step away from the door. I can't go to him. I should be going home and being with Clay. Clay...Who isn't here. I sigh, tears suddenly flooding my eyes. What is wrong with me?
Harm's door opens and suddenly he's there, looking at me.
"Mac?" He asks, not too loudly. His hearing must be better. How did he know I was here?
"Harm...How did you know I was here?" I ask him, voicing my thoughts and trying not to think about the reason I'm here. He jerks his head in the direction of the apartment and I walk in, unsmiling and un-normal.
"I saw you pull up. Besides, I got a call from the CIA about an hour ago. I was hoping you'd come here." He says. I turn around and look at him as he leans against the now closed door. When did he close it?
"Harm, I killed him." I say softly, unable to look him in the eyes. My gaze is fixed on the watch on his wrist, as he braces his hands on his hips and takes a step in my direction.
"You had to, Mac. It was self defense." He tells me, his voice equally soft. His hearing must really be improving quickly. I shake my head.
"No, you don't understand. I shot him once in self defense. Then he was wounded, on the ground, and I shot him again. I killed him." I mutter, turning away from him and feeling my composure begin to crumble. All I want is for this to go away. I just don't know how to make it happen.
The weight of Harm's hand on my shoulder makes me turn my head and look at him. For the first time since he opened the door tonight, I look into his eyes. I have always loved his eyes, but now seeing the affection and concern in them is almost enough to make me cringe. I don't deserve that from him.
"Sarah, Sedik captured you and killed people right in front of you. He tortured someone that you-" He pauses, taking a breath and wincing slightly, "Someone that you love. Any one of those would be more than enough to make you hate him." He finishes, his voice constricted in what I recognize as pain as he describes Clay as someone I love.
"But I shouldn't have killed him. The CIA was almost there, they were going to arrest him. I knew that, but I did it anyway. I'm-I'm supposed to be better than that." I say, now unable to look away from his caring eyes as I try to convince him that I'm as guilty as I feel. He sighs heavily, and for a moment I can see the weight of age and stress in his features, and he looks old for the first time. That moment passes and suddenly I'm looking back at the Flyboy that I've known for eight years. The concerned, loving Flyboy.
"I know that this is all happening quickly, but maybe we should get you in to see a psychiatrist in the morning." He says. A shot of anger and betrayal pierces my confusion and pain, and I take a step back from him.
"You want to send me to a shrink? I'm not crazy, Harm!" I exclaim, my voice raised. Harm puts his hands up in a calming gesture, a surrender of sorts.
"Mac, I don't think you're crazy. I just want to make sure that this doesn't hurt you, okay? Killing a person can really screw with your mind, especially when you're as hard on yourself as you are inclined to be." He says calmly, taking the step toward me that I backed up. I shake my head.
"I don't need help, Harm. I am a Marine. I'm trained to kill people, for God's sake!" I shout at him, and he holds a finger to his lips.
"Quiet down. If Jennifer and Mattie hear you, they'll know something's up. You don't want that, do you?" He asks me, and suddenly I snap back to reality.
"No." I say quietly, looking at the floor. I hear him, feel him, step closer to me, then see his feet not too far from mine as I stare at them. He reaches out and lifts my chin with his index finger, forcing me to look into his eyes. I'm crying now, the tears flowing down my face.
"Sarah, I know that you're a Marine. I know you've been trained to kill. But I've known you for eight years. I know you. And whether you like it or not, I see the real you. You're not just a Marine. You're a woman, a human, and I know that you're a lot more fragile than you like to admit. I just want you to be okay." He whispers, looking so deeply into my eyes and being so honest and open that I can't help the additional tears that fall.
"Hold me, Harm." I choke out, feeling infinitely safer as he wraps his arms around me and pulls me close, holding me against his body and strengthening me just by his presence. His warmth envelopes me, and I can't help but bask in it.
For the first time in a long time, I weep openly. I weep for the coldness inside of me that let me kill an unarmed man, I weep for the truth in Sedik's accusations of my barren life...I weep for how confused I am right now, knowing what I'm capable of when the right buttons are pushed.
.
I didn't know it was humanly possible to cry for thirty-nine minutes and seventeen seconds, but I did somehow. Harm held me, comforted me, let me cry my eyes out and get his shirt wet.
My life may be barren, but I know what unconditional love feels like. It feels like this.
I pull away from him finally, sniffling and wiping my eyes. The large wet spot on his shirt almost makes me smile, and I look up at his face. I've never been more surprised in my life as I am when I see the tear-stained face of Harmon Rabb, crying with me. He wipes his eyes as well, almost looking embarassed but not quite.
"Feel any better?" He mutters, looking at me again. I shrug.
"I don't know. I guess. A little. I don't know." I breathe, still trying to catch my breath. He nods. For the first time tonight, his gaze wanders down my body, making stops at a few places along the way. Then he looks back at my face, a questioning look in his beautiful eyes. What's wrong?
Looking down at myself, I realize. My blouse is partially unbuttoned, blood stains the front. Shrugging my coat off, I throw it on his couch and a thrill of warmth shoots through me when I hear him suck in his breath in concern.
"Sarah..." He mutters, looking at my shoulder, which is bruising pretty badly now and hurts like hell. I self-consciously cross my good arm over my stomach, just under my breasts, to cover my exposed skin. Harm is slowly shaking his head, his eyes locked on mine. He reaches out one large hand and grasps mine, pulling it away from my stomach.
I'm almost too tired to walk as he leads me to the bedroom. I wonder for a second what he's doing, then remember who he is. He's my best friend, the man that cried with me for the last forty minutes. I trust him.
He leaves me near the foot of his bed and walks over to his dresser, where he opens a drawer and pulls out an ash-gray t-shirt and a pair of blue plaid pajama pants. Approaching me again, he puts the clothes on the bed and looks back up at me, his eyes asking me something that he won't. He's asking for permission. I nod slowly, unable to move or speak. I'm almost numb. This has been one hell of a day.
Harmon Rabb reaches forward tentatively to my blouse, slowly unbuttoning the top button and allowing the shirt to open a little more. He does the same with the other buttons until they're all undone, then slips the top off my shoulders, being extra cautious with my injured shoulder. As he slides the blouse off my arms, he leans forward and peppers the developing bruise with soft, barely-there kisses.
My eyes flutter shut and I sigh, finally feeling the torn blouse fall to my feet. Still kissing my shoulder softly, Harm reaches two strong arms around my waist and unclasps my skirt, unzipping it and letting it slide down my hips and into a puddle on the floor.
Then he stands up straight and looks down into my eyes. In my peripheral vision I see him pick up the t-shirt and unfold it. I lift my arms over my head and he puts the shirt on me, tucking my hair behind my ears after he smoothes the shirt out over my legs, as it's much too large.
The pajama pants follow, and I brace my hands on his shoulders as he stoops to help me put on the pants one leg at a time. My throbbing shoulder is the only reminder right now of what I went through tonight, as Harm literally sweeps me off my feet and gently places me on the bed, my head on his pillow.
Placing the comforter over me, he tucks me in and kisses my forehead.
"We'll take care of that shoulder in the morning." He whispers, smoothing my hair back from my face and just sitting next to me on the bed until I allow my eyes to drift shut. I fall asleep holding his hand in both of mine, cuddling with it, safe and momentarily forgetting the reason that I'm here in the first place.