RATING: PG-13
PAIRING: Harm/Mac
Disclaimer: I do not own JAG.
Author's Note: After hearing once again the controversy concerning DPB and his yearly comment to the H/M shipper ... though intended to be as a joke, but still, it hurts ... it gives JAG fan fiction writers such as myself even more reason to continue writing, to keep the chance of a Harm and Mac happy ending alive. And with this thinking, I hope every JAG fan will stay positive as the season begins. It's the only way to wade through another season, hoping desperately it will not be anything like the last. I'll tell you this much†if DPB doesn't put Harm and Mac together at the end, he won't be able to pay people to get JAG on DVD. We fans still have some leverage †;-). Finally I've finished this section. Took some time, but it happened. Thanks to everyone for their reviews and support!!
Chapter Title: HopeGarage
North of Union Station
Two Days Later
2000 EST
Two days. Harm sighed to himself, thinking of that statistic. It had been two days since he last saw Mac, staring at her plane, at her face in the window, as she flew off and left him behind. Heartbroken. She has always loved him, and still does. He knows that, and would never question it, despite what happened. Love would not be a reason she would reject him. Asking her to marry him seemed almost like a formality, in some respect, because both figured they would eventually take that important step in the near future. It was just a matter of time. So often did they talk about †talk about their future, the life they wanted. Together. He wanted to secure that connection before she left in the small chance that something horrible might happen. But she said †no.
Well, not 'no', really. More like ... yeah, I still have to think about it ... but I love you.
Sheesh.
Harm sighed again, realizing he was a loser. Here he stood, working on Mac's car as she asked him to do days before, as if nothing happened. Well, of course he still loved Mac, would always love her. And she didn't say no, he reminded himself again ... she didn't really reject him, even though it felt that way. But oddly enough, Harm felt as if he was wrapped around her little finger right now by doing her a favor, one in which he didn't think twice of doing or not doing. Of course he would do it. She was Mac.
Opening the hood to her red corvette, a model similar but not quite like his own, he quickly became accustomed to her car and how it worked. A week ago she mentioned she heard a 'clink', or maybe more like a 'clang'. The more she talked about it, the more the sound changed from one form to another. Eventually she decided on a 'thud', but Harm found it an odd sound to hear in a car. Either way, he promised to look into it. Their rough schedules, however, gave neither of them time to speak of the car again. Mac continued to drive it with no problem, and since he'd been home, only mentioned it once. Now with her off in Iraq, Harm felt the opportunity arise to take a look at it.
With Mac gone, Harm felt it necessary to sleep in his own apartment in the rare chance someone might catch him going into Mac's apartment when she wasn't around. So here he was, in the small garage he rented below his apartment to hold his own corvette, now working on Mac's. His corvette sat outside in the cold, and he mused at the irony. Stepping back from the car, he glanced at himself, seeing a man wearing faded, old jeans and a T-shirt already stained with grease. The essential wardrobe for a job so dirty, he concluded. His apartment was not much better; clothes strewn around, food and dirty dishes all throughout his kitchen, a pizza box on the floor surrounded by magazines, and his bed unmade. Needless to say, with Mac gone, Harm didn't have much time, nor much desire, to clean up after himself. He tended to be this way when he was worried about her. If Mac saw him she would react in one of two ways; either get on his back for being so dirty, especially being a Marine, or, see him in his faded jeans and greased T-shirt, and lead him into the bedroom. Then make him clean everything up.
Smiling to himself, he buried his head under the hood again, thinking of such a confrontation lightheartedly, not realizing someone was walking up behind him.
"Ah, you're in here," called the voice, ultimately causing Harm to jerk quickly out from underneath the hood, though not before he hit his head.
Crying out slightly, he turned, rubbing his head, seeing two images of Sturgis before he saw one. He should've guessed. "Hey, buddy," he said groggily, seeing his friend smirking back at him.
"You seem jumpy," Sturgis observed with a laugh, walking a little closer to him, arms folded across his chest.
"Not jumpy," Harm insisted, his head switching from a searing pain to a steady throb. "Just surprised to see you here."
Sturgis shrugged. "Came by to see how you were doing." After what Sturgis has heard recently, and with Colonel Mackenzie stationed in Iraq at the moment, he had a feeling Harm might need a friend right now. Whether the rumors he heard were true concerning the state of Harm's relationship with Mac, it didn't matter really. Above all, Harm and Mac have always had a close, personal, and intimate friendship. Sturgis expected Harm to react in such a way to Mac's new case, acting closed off and distant during the past few days at JAG. Though he wanted to comfort Harm, he also wanted to discover his real problems, those that started before Mac went to Iraq, only gaining momentum with her untimely departure.
"Thanks, but I'm fine," Harm stressed quietly, bending down to grab a tool from the toolbox on the floor before burying himself under the hood. Even though Harm felt a sudden urge to tell Sturgis everything, from his 6-month relationship with Mac suddenly gone sour, to his frightful dreams of her death, he thought better of it. Not knowing the stakes yet, never forgetting the delicate nature of his current problems, there was no need to risk anything.
Sturgis walked up to Harm, glancing at the engine of the car, stating quietly, "You've had a rough week, I suspect."
Harm shrugged it off, calling from underneath the hood, his voice slightly strained as he tinkered with the engine, "Nothing I can't handle."
"Still " Sturgis began, unable to finish as Harm reappeared before him, rubbing his hands with a grease cloth.
"It's nothing. I admit, I'm worried about Mac, but not much I can do about that," Harm said lightly, slightly short of breath with his work, moving around Sturgis to the other side of the garage.
Sturgis smirked, watching him walk away, having no difficulty seeing beneath Harm's disguise. "So you're fixing Mac's car?" he chided, truthfully never remembering him doing such a task for Colonel Mackenzie. Not that he couldn't help her by doing this, especially when she was off serving in Iraq for a short period. However, the task felt odd, like ... more than just a favor. He couldn't put his finger on what triggered his suspicions; only able to conclude Harm was hiding something here.
Harm grabbed a tool from a table behind Sturgis, then moved back to the hood. "I'm fixing Mac's car because she asked me to do it." The statement was true, even though he left out the real reason why he was performing the task; because he loved her.
Sturgis just nodded. "Okay." He decided to accept that explanation for now, thinking it best to move onto other subjects. "So why did you act out in court? It's not like you."
Harm sighed, suddenly irritated at having to combat this question for the hundredth time. Not only did Mac ask him about it before she left, but also the Admiral, Bud, and Coates didn't hesitate to inquire. Now with Sturgis asking of it, he barely had the energy to respond without seeming annoyed. "Does it really matter?"
"I think it does. Especially when, I believe, the cause of it might have something to do with the owner of this particular car," Sturgis commented knowingly, walking over to the driver's side and settling his hands on the edge of the door to gaze inside. Clean. Very clean inside. He smirked, realizing he expected nothing less from Colonel Mackenzie.
"Well, I think you're imagining things," Harm insisted with amusement, bending underneath the hood again.
"Maybe."
Harm stepped out again, suddenly interested in Sturgis' unwavering mood. His friend always acted as if he knew he was right, even if he might be proven wrong later. At the moment, Harm couldn't get past how sure Sturgis seemed to be ... even more than usual, a characteristic currently reaching new levels of annoyance. Of course, with Harm acting out in court, and now rumors spreading quickly as to the type of relationship he had with Mac because of his actions at Andrews, Sturgis could do nothing else but speculate the obvious. And right now his friend was looking for more evidence for his hypothesis.
"Why are you so sure?"
Sturgis shrugged again, not quite ready to show his hand too soon. He needed to be vague, only to see Harm's reaction. "Well, I am a lawyer. And with the evidence I've seen and now what I've heard"
Harm leaned against the car, arms crossed, reassuring, "Whatever you heard, it isn't true."
"Maybe not," Sturgis conceded, but quickly added, "But the Colonel was kissing someone." He then smirked, his eyes giving away exactly how much he knew concerning Harm's current problems. Perhaps Sturgis shouldn't believe rumors, but considering his friend's behavior recently, the tendency was to assume a woman. Whenever Harm acted unusually quiet with him, it meant he was spending time with someone special, someone listening to all of his problems. And since Harm kept quiet about his love life recently, which he usually disclosed eventually to Sturgis as a point of reference, there was reason to speculate something unusual was happening. Catching Harm working on Mac's car seemed to seal the deal.
Harm huffed a little, walking back towards the hood. "And you think you know?
"I do know," Sturgis joked, moving up to Harm again. "Seriously, though ... I'm talking to you as a friend, not as a fellow JAG officer. You can talk to me if you need to." Sturgis wanted to make this clear, because his intentions were not to scare Harm away. In fact, he wanted completely the opposite.
Harm considered this as he stared at Sturgis, the urge to disclose to him all that he has been through recently quickly boiling to the surface once again. Missing Mac was hard enough, but worrying about her night and day, the inability to sleep, and the erosion of his nerves gave him reason to give Sturgis access, if only to share it with someone he trusted. Harm and Mac chose to keep their relationship quiet for the simple reason of not wanting to chance getting caught, forced to transfer, or, worse yet, court-martialed. Neither wanted that, of course, instead deciding it best to choose their fate when they couldn't help it any further. Now, having to deal with Mac's time in Iraq alone, Harm knew he would appreciate a friend to talk to. He knew, thinking further, he needed a friend considering Mac's response to his proposal of marriage. Seriously, how does a man deal with that? Especially when he truly believed she would answer 'yes'?
"Okay," Harm whispered, giving in. "I'm talking to Sturgis Turner, my friend?"
Sturgis nodded. "Of course."
Harm moved from the hood to lean against the car next to Sturgis. Bowing his head slightly, he thought carefully on how to begin. 'Oh yeah, in case you didn't notice, Mac and I have been going out for 6 months.' He began to smirk at the possibility, sensing that even though Sturgis may have guessed his relationship with Mac, he would be quite surprised as to how long it's been in existence. No one would believe it, probably. Many nights did they laugh at how close the relationship came to being revealed way too soon. When they first began to spend time together, it was difficult for Harm to get through the day without thinking of Mac. Not just thinking of her, dreaming of her. Dreaming of the night before, of the nights to come. People should certainly catch those glances of desire, of the seconds stolen during the day in the coffee room, yet no one seemed to notice their flushed faces or the endless stares. His eyes would lose themselves in her image; unable to forget the passion they shared at night. Smiling, he had to admit, they were hot at the beginning. As time passed, eventually they dealt with it much better, and not having as many hot nights, but more intimate nights. Like, for instance, spending the night outside on the beach with a picnic, lying on blankets, and staring up at the endless glimmer of silvery stars and the white, full moon casting a shadow across the still, peaceful waves.
Harm always remembered that night as the moment he learned the most about Mac. That's how good he and Mac were, Harm mused to himself. That's how right they were for each other.
Finally glancing up, but not at Sturgis, Harm whispered, "The scene at Andrews was real. I was saying goodbye to Colonel Mackenzie ... my girlfriend." Though he hated the word, 'girlfriend', because it sounded so juvenile, as a way to describe his relationship with Mac, it was the only description that seemed appropriate. If the planets had aligned correctly for him, he may have had the chance to say fiancé. Obviously, he thought with a bitter edge, Mac didn't want it right now.
Sturgis only smirked, hearing the information as evidence to support his theories. Now everything fell perfectly into place. "So that's why you've been so quiet lately?"
Harm shrugged. "I guess so. Mac and I started the relationship six months ago".
"Six months?" Sturgis quickly interrupted, needing clarification to what he just heard. He assumed the relationship existed for the past few weeks, or even a month considering Harm's strange mood lately. Six months?
Harm laughed a little, happy to have caught Sturgis off guard. "Yeah." Looking away from his friend again, his eyes settling on the table, the grim look of the walls, and feeling a draft coming in from the closed door at the front, his senses quickly brought him back to what was really being discussed here. Not just his friend finally catching on to the secretive relationship Harm has had with Mac, but also everything that came with it. The dreams, the proposal
Their future.
This wasn't just any relationship for Harm.
"We kept it quiet," Harm began, the far off look in his eyes shadowing his features, his mind quickly filling with Sarah's face. He wondered then what she might be doing right now, agonizing over the missed calls during the past few days; the missed opportunities to talk because of their busy schedules. Not only hasn't he seen Mac in two days, but he also hasn't talked to her, either. Mac tried to call him a few times, trying to catch him in his office, or at night. Each time he was either out, in court, or chose not to answer the phone, unwilling to cross that bridge at the moment. In a way, he wanted that week alone, away from Mac, away from his friends even. To think through everything that has happened. To pray by himself, to whomever might be listening, to ensure Mac's safety.
Sturgis nodded. "Because of Krennick."
"Krennick. And our friends." Harm paused a second and moved away from the car towards the table. He changed the tool in his hand with another lying out on the table, absently thinking of his current task, absently thinking of the circumstances behind Mac's and his decisions over the past six months. All seemed small, meaning nothing, compared to everything happening at the moment. He never even considered this moment in time, what would happen if Mac were ever sent to Iraq. What would happen if he ever asked Mac to marry him and she didn't say yes. The thought such a gross weight at the bottom of his stomach, eating away like a virus, harvesting every emotion that was left inside of him.
Harm's lips curled up into a small smile, thinking of the first initial months of his relationship with Mac. "At first we wanted the privacy. We were so nervous about everything, and we didn't want to be the center of attention at JAG or with our friends. Once we got used to each other †eventually it became a game, seeing how long we could go without saying anything to anyone. Once we moved in together, we were even more determined ... not just with keeping the secret, but with each other." He then turned around and faced Sturgis, who still stood quietly, letting Harm set the tone of the conversation. "At Andrews I asked her to marry me."
Sturgis' eyes quickly became wider, at first taken aback by Harm's confession, but then sensing the truth. He wanted to ask of Mac's answer, yet deep in his heart he new. Harm's features didn't shout of happiness, nor did his expression change from the deep sadness capturing him now. If the answer was yes, Sturgis would hate to see Harm's expression if the answer was no. He almost spilled this joke, to lighten the moment, but decided against it. This was Harm's moment, his time, his conversation, his declaration. Sturgis' role was simple; listen.
Harm laughed easily, lightening the moment for himself, needing to break the melancholy atmosphere. "I'm still waiting for answer," he joked, though the words strained with intensity. Walking away from the table to the hood once again, looking down at the complicated engine, the wires, and the initial heart of the car, he sensed his own heart feeling just as screwy. He rubbed his hand over his mouth, his mind traveling quickly through the events of the past few weeks. As quickly as his need to tell Sturgis about the dream, the need left just as quickly. Deep down, Harm knew revealing that would go too far. It was something he and Mac needed to deal with together, among other things.
A week.
He needed to wait.
However, Sturgis' question quickly broke his train of thought. "Do you love her?"
Harm's face appeared from under the hood, gazing at his friend, as if considering. Yet there was nothing to think about, nothing that would help or hinder his current feelings.
He loved her. With all of his heart.
He swallowed, the emotion catching in his throat, realizing at that moment he would be telling someone other than Mac of his love for her. There would be no faltering, however, as he whispered simply, and with great emotion, "Yes."
Sturgis nodded as he moved closer to him, clearly indicating the importance of his next few words. It needed to come from him, his long time friend. "As your JAG lawyer, Harm, I must inform you that if you decide to go through with this with Mac, that most likely one of you will be transferred, if Krennick is in a charity giving mood the day you tell her. Your career might suffer some, if you're not court martialed."
"And as my friend?" Harm asked, shoving Sturgis' information completely out of his mind right now. The consequences of his actions couldn't be an issue right now, only adding to the mounting stress.
"As your friend," Sturgis began, "Go for it. Do whatever you have to do to get her to say yes."
Harm smiled then, perhaps the first time in two days. He thought of nothing else except giving all he had to convince Mac of his devotion, of his love, of his need for her. Not that she didn't know, but to reassure her. Maybe the mere shock caused her to back away, or perhaps his insistence. Maybe she needed time to think. So many reasons, yet none of that scared Harm. Though he felt hurt, he knew couldn't let that stop him.
Nothing would stop him.
"Thanks. I think I'll listen to my friend," Harm responded matter-of-factly, eliciting a smile from Sturgis.
"Good. I'll tell him that."
Harm laughed openly now, slapping his hand on Sturgis' shoulder. "Thanks, buddy." In all honesty, Sturgis' presence lightened his mood quite a bit, making him see his situation with Mac as an opportunity rather than a disappointment.
"On that note, I think I better go," Sturgis replied, moving behind Harm towards the door.
Harm called from behind, "See ya tomorrow."
Sturgis waved his hand as he opened the door and walked out. The door closed behind him.
Once again the dream began to reach to the front of his mind, automatically blocking out everything else. Concentrating on Mac's answer, or lack thereof, to his proposal had clouded his mind from the true concern. If Mac made it back from Iraq, they could talk further. If Mac made it back from Iraq, she could tell him why she chose to stall on her answer ... a decision he felt they already made concerning their future. If Mac made it back from Iraq, the dream would be gone.
If Mac made it back from Iraq, they could start their future.
If Mac made it back from Iraq ...Harm sighed, feeling an overwhelming urge to talk to her now, to hold her, to feel safe with her. The imminent danger was not his broken heart or even the course their relationship was on.
In the morning he would call her.
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, VA
1000 EST – The Next Day
Admiral Krennick was steamed. That, of course, would be an understatement, as Coates watched her boss' foul mood only turn worse. If the mounting cases towering on her desk weren't enough, Krennick would only grow worse as the morning aged into afternoon. Nervously glancing to the clock high on the wall, Coates could only cower a bit into herself, into her work, and hope to God that Krennick wouldn't notice her presence. The source of her anger today remained with two certain officers. A few minutes late would be bad enough, but now both Rabb and Turner remained missing as a full hour finally came and went.
"Coates!" came a shrill voice, causing the young Petty Officer to jump straight out of her seat and quickly into the Admiral's office. So much for hiding.
"Yes, ma'am?" Coates asked, unwilling to let her own failing nerves show.
Krennick motioned to the clock hanging in her office. "What time is it?"
Coates quickly answered, "1005, ma'am."
A smile almost crept across Krennick's face, though Coates quickly pushed the observation aside. Smiles and Krennick did not go hand in hand. Maybe a smirk, Krennick knowing she would have a dozen reasons to chew out Rabb when he finally decided to show his face in the bullpen. Rabb usually had to endure such a confrontation at least once a week.
I'm glad I'm not Commander Rabb, Coates thought.
"No Rabb?" Krennick asked bitterly. The younger officer immediately noticed the Admiral mentioned nothing of Commander Turner. Obviously her CO intended on busting Rabb, and letting Turner get away with it today, especially since the latter Commander rarely arrived late.
Coates could only guess why Krennick decided to be more angry than usual today. Certainly she intended taking that time to yell at Rabb, but today she seemed extra aggravated. Right, Coates corrected herself. Not angry. Aggravated. There was some difference. "No Rabb," she confirmed quietly.
Krennick looked down at a report in her hand, suddenly deciding to talk no further of the subject, only to say, "Make sure he comes to see me as soon as he arrives."
Coates nodded. "Yes, ma'am. I've been watching for him." Why she felt a need to add on that extra tidbit of information, Coates wouldn't know. If anything, she hoped the conversation ended as soon as possible.
"Dismissed." Apparently, Krennick felt the same way, giving no indication of hearing the Petty Officer's reassurances.
Saluting, Coates bolted quickly, though still trying to keep up the image of a mature, Navy yeoman. Her haste would reveal nothing, especially in the light of her very understanding fellow officers. Everyone escaped Krennick's office with the same urgency, which eventually led to a competition of how fast people could escape the Admiral's clutches. Smirking at the thought, only able to imagine a raven circling around its prey, talons drawn, Coates could hardly keep from smiling as she stepped into the bullpen. Again she checked Rabb's office, and again she saw only darkness. The JAG office felt extremely lifeless with both Rabb and Mackenzie missing. Lately at least one of them graced the offices while the other one took care of a case on a carrier or on a base. Krennick neglected to team them up on a case for sometime now, no one comprehending any reason why. However, rumors suggested the Admiral might be slightly jealous pertaining to the attention Rabb often gave Mackenzie, especially recently. The two were inseparable.
Just about ready to give up hope that Rabb or Turner would save her from Krennick's current mood, Coates's eyes were suddenly attracted to an office assuming life across the way. Commander Turner had finally arrived.
Walking to the other side of the bullpen, Coates assumed a quiet position at Commander Turner's door as soon as she realized he was on the phone. Talking about a case, Coates thought. He was in for a treat with Krennick.
Suddenly hearing her name, breaking her thoughts, she saw the Commander finally off the phone and waiting for an answer to a question he had just asked. "Sorry, sir, what did you ask?"
Turner smirked and repeated with amusement, "What did you want, Petty Officer?"
Coates didn't think he would be laughing when he heard the Admiral has been looking for him all morning. "Admiral Krennick wants you in her office. ASAP. She also has been asking about Commander Rabb "
"He's not in yet?" Turner asked, quickly becoming a bit concerned. If anything, he thought Harm felt much better after the talk they shared the previous night. A bridge seemed crossed, a mountain overcome once Harm explained his current situation. His mood seemed lighter by the end of the conversation, certainly taking on a different perspective the minute he disclosed his problems with Mac. Though, they've gotten pretty far, Sturgis thought, without outside intervention. He still couldn't let the fact sink in ... six months. Unbelievable.
"No, sir," Coates simply stated.
Turner walked around his desk to the front. "Did you call his cell?"
"And his home, as well. No answer at either, sir."
Immediately Sturgis considered calling Colonel Mackenzie's apartment, aware now that Harm could certainly be found there. Especially if he didn't want to be found.
Yet, even if I called, Sturgis concluded, Harm wouldn't answer the phone. He wouldn't chance it.
Grabbing his jacket, Sturgis couldn't explain his urgency to ensure Harm's safety. Perhaps a sixth sense, or having helped him the night before heightening his personal need to be as much a friend to Harm as he could be. Especially now. Why his heart began to pound in nervous anticipation, Sturgis had no explanation. Yet something flowed through his veins, a feeling of loss or ... perhaps an unavoidable fear that seemed to have no origin. The likely problem was Harm just feeling sorry for himself, missing Mac, unwilling to face JAG today. He would need a simple cheering up, one that would require Sturgis to visit after JAG hours; take him out for a beer, watch a ballgame or something.
So why was he rushing to his aid now? What was driving him?
"Commander--?"
Turner walked out of his office, pushing Coates along with him so he could lock his office door. "I realized, Petty Officer, that I need to be in court in an hour and I promised my client we would meet." Gazing quickly to his hands, Turner smiled at his innate intuition. He was holding his briefcase. Good, it looked believable.
Coates, however, protested, "But Krennick ..."
Turner only smiled as he continued to walk away. "Have a good day, Petty Officer."
Coates sighed, watching Turner escape Krennick's wrath. However, that meant the wrath would fall squarely on her shoulders. Turning on her heel, Coates grimaced as she proceeded to her office, fully aware of what was to come. Brave, Coates thought. I've earned about a dozen Navy Crosses this morning.
Commander Turner's car
En route to Commander Rabb's apartment, North or Union Station
1100 EST
No one at Colonel Mackenzie's apartment, Sturgis grimaced. He knocked for a good ten minutes at her door and received no reply. In fact, he quickly sensed no one had been at her apartment since she left. Against his own judgment, he called while standing outside of Mac's home, hoping Harm might have a sudden lapse of memory and think he was in his own apartment. Sometimes people instinctively performed menial tasks, such as answering the phone even if it may not be their own. However, no answer.
Gazing out through his windshield now at the busy streets of Washington, Sturgis quickly questioned his own motives. Maybe he was just trying to be a good friend, the most likely reason for his sudden actions. Yet something much more persistent pulled at his gut, again merely considering it a sixth sense of sorts. Something felt out of place. Not that Harm couldn't be late. In fact, especially since going out with Mac, he mused, Harm tended to be late every now and again. Of course, he saw this in hindsight. However, Mac was gone for the moment. And whether Harm suddenly suffered from a nervous breakdown because he missed her so much, or he simply was playing hooky, Sturgis didn't know. He only sensed the unlikelihood of the those options considering, above all, how well Harm was dealing with Mac's time in Iraq. Sure, he missed her dearly. Sure, he may be a bit erratic at the moment. But
He had yet missed a day of work this week. He acted no different and his intentions on coming to work the next day were quite clear.
That seemed to be his main reasoning. Harm rarely allowed events and moments like this to completely disable him from doing his duty. Only in dire circumstances did he skip his assignments at JAG. Very dire.
He could be taking a personal day, deciding to take his mind off of Mac, Sturgis reminded himself. Perhaps he thought that was best.
Suddenly Harm's apartment came into view, Sturgis quickly parking the car, unable to miss seeing a familiar red corvette parked in front of him. Maybe he took Mac's car out for a drive?
Sighing, Sturgis hastily walked to the garage and pulled the door open slightly, only to see Colonel Mackenzie's car exactly where it was the night before. The hood was down, the space was clean. Okay, so he has to be here, right?
The thought comforted Sturgis's concerns only for a split second but not much more. Harm may have had JAG-related errands to run, which Sturgis had originally suspected. Yet both cars had not been moved. He may have possibly taken a cab, but what's the point of doing that? Especially when he had two cars, one in which he could have taken for a test drive to ensure his tinkering helped the problem.
Nothing made sense.
Walking into Harm's building and into the elevator, Sturgis couldn't help but think the worse may have occurred here. The definition of 'worse' was still quite a mystery at the moment, though he would prefer not to know. In all likelihood, Sturgis thought once again, he just isn't up to going to work today. After everything—the proposal, Mac in Iraq--he would need the break. Pushing that conclusion through his mind again and again, he stepped up out of the elevator and to Harm's front door.
Immediately Sturgis felt eerie, the silence of the hallway suffocating him. He strangely smelled eggs, maybe coffee coming from the apartment before him, possibly indicating life on the other side. The pressure on Sturgis' heart released quite a bit, finally able to breathe deeply since he began the search for Harm. Though the strange feeling didn't leave him, Sturgis felt the tension relax as he stepped up to the door and knocked.
And he knocked again ... pause
And again.
Grimacing slightly, Sturgis put his ear to the door, listening for any other sign that Harm was home. Maybe he cooked breakfast a while ago and the smell was still intoxicating the hall? Hearing nothing on the other side rose Sturgis' suspicions once again, this fluctuating of nerves feeling much like riding a roller coaster. Right now he felt himself dropping down a steep hill, his stomach jumping into his throat, understandably afraid that the track below won't catch the weight of his fall. For some reason, he felt himself falling through.
Knocking again, this time Sturgis called out, "Harm? It's Sturgis."
Silence.
"Harm? Are you all right?"
No answer.
Sighing, Sturgis knew of one more tactic left in his bag of tricks. I'll knock down the door, Sturgis decided. Perhaps the act was a bit hasty, especially considering the likely outcome of all of this ... Harm was fine, merely depressed. Still, thinking as a lawyer, as a military officer whose job it was to suspect danger, Sturgis knew this next act might be needed. Only as a precaution. Only to ensure that the likely conclusion was indeed true. Since Harm neglected to answer any of his phone calls, had not called or left a message that he would not be coming into the office—an expected course of action when taking a personal day—then assuming the worse was necessary. That meant he needed to break down the door, especially if there was an emergency, if Harm needed help right away.
Stepping back, Sturgis then jolted forward, using his shoulder to bust in the door. Immediately the door faltered underneath the force, and when Sturgis hit it through again, it could do nothing else but fall to the ground behind. Panting only slightly, his breath caught quickly in his throat, hardly able to believe the sight before him, the shock taking away all his senses. Chairs turned over, papers everywhere, furniture torn, the TV set smashed, picture frames cracked, and clothes thrown in all directions. Crinkling his eyes to immediate concern, he began moving through the horrible mess.
"Harm!" Sturgis shouted, quickly meddling through and around the obstacles, seeing only a trashed apartment. No Harm in sight. "Harm!"
Moving up the steps to Harm's bedroom, Sturgis only saw more of the same; the mattress turned over, lamps broken on the floor, and dresser drawers pulled out as if searched threw. Again and again Sturgis called and only the silence of the apartment answered him in return.
Adrenaline running through his veins, Sturgis hardly took a chance to fathom the consequences and circumstances behind the images before him. Something went terribly wrong here, and whatever it may be, Sturgis suddenly felt 'worse' had been defined. No sign of Harm was certainly the last outcome Sturgis expected at the end of this search, and moving back through the kitchen, he knew then the events around him crossed into the category of an official JAG case.
A missing JAG officer. His apartment trashed.
None of this could be good.
Glancing to the kitchen space, Sturgis saw the source of the initial odors when he first arrived; burning eggs. Quickly he ran to the stove and turned the dial to off, immediately glad that he arrived in time to stop a potential stove fire. If nothing else, the evidence before him would give JAG a chance to find Harm.
Yet before he could fully let the events before him sink in, let the thoughts of finding Harm fill his heart and soul, his eyes caught something he didn't expect. His attention turned immediately to a note left on the island in the middle of the kitchen, the initial terror dropping to the pit of his stomach like a ten pound weight. Cursing himself for missing it coming in, Sturgis knew he ran on concern for his friend way before looking for possible evidence. Now the two missions were mixed.
Dreading what he would see, Sturgis stepped up to the counter, his eyes turning to shock before his mind could catch up—could fully understand or comprehend what the evidence in front of him suggested. He immediately thought of dazed expressions, sadness illuminating the halls of JAG, tears flowing freely in a dark place, the rain falling on already wet cheeks. In fact, all he could think of was Mac. Poor Mac.
The note read;
Release them. Otherwise, more officers will be killed.
Next to the note was a picture of Harm, lying on the floor of this very apartment, a bullet through his chest. So gruesome the picture, so horrible did Harm look, Sturgis forced himself to back away, glancing to the suggested spot and seeing a pool of blood settled in the living room just beyond. Thinking through all of this seemed to take too much effort, Sturgis only able to stand and keep moving if he thought of everything around him as evidence.
He couldn't think of his friend right now.
If he did, he would lose it.
In fact, moving towards the spot of blood, Sturgis immediately flipped out his cell phone, angry with himself for not making the necessary calls sooner. Approaching the blood, he noticed then it seemed almost dry, almost as if these events happened a few hours ago or so. Grimacing further, his eyes and face displaying his true age, not just from years but also from experiences just like this one, he suddenly heard a voice on the other end of his call disturbing his dark thoughts.
"Petty Officer Coates," came the even voice.
Sturgis tried to stay calm and let on nothing in his voice save strength and courage. Someone needed to be grounded. "Call NCIS right now, send them to Commander Rabb's apartment."
"What? What happen-- ?" she began to ask.
Yet Sturgis didn't want to give her a chance to continue, stating sternly, "Just do it, Petty Officer. Please."
"Right away." The call then went dead.
Sturgis sighed and knew that taking out his frustrations on Coates was not the answer. Only then did he begin to fully understand the ramifications behind everything that happened here. Not only would everyone at JAG be angry and sad, but also Mattie's reaction, Harm's dear friend and teenager he took care of for so long. She would be crushed. Not to mention Mac †oh, Mac. Sturgis imagined anger when thinking of her, imagined her totally losing it, dedicating her life to finding and destroying those who did this to Harm.
Mac.
As his mind journeyed through the people affected, the change this would have for so many people, once again his attention caught something across the room.
A blinking red light.
It was coming from the answering machine. Probably the million calls from Coates, indicating Krennick's annoyance with Harm's tardiness. Yet again, he felt an attraction to the machine, wondering if it might have some clue to who may have been here.
Walking briskly over to the phone on the kitchen counter, he wondered then whether he should mess with the evidence now with NCIS coming over.
However, he couldn't resist.
His lawyer and investigating instincts wouldn't allow it. Sighing once again, the weight becoming heavy with every second he stood at this crime scene, he pushed the button, waiting to hear Coates' voice.
The first few messages didn't surprise him, Coates' voice echoing through the quiet apartment, stressing Harm's need to appear at the JAG office as soon as possible. The voice he didn't expect came next, causing Sturgis' breath to catch in his throat again, this time from overwhelming sadness. This time with heartfelt sorrow. He should've expected this, should've realized this voice might show up in the middle of everything happening in this moment, in this time.
Mac's voice drained the blood from his face, his skin turning cold with despair.
With irony.
All he could do was listen;
"Harm, it's Mac. I was hoping to catch you before you went to work. I know we keep missing each other—playing phone tag. Maybe we're trying to avoid each other. I don't know."
Stopping for a single second, Sturgis sensed her voice becoming heavier, more emotional. He could tell immediately she was trying to say the right words, desperately trying to explain exactly how she felt. In that moment, he felt her pain, felt the pain existing between Harm and Mac. Why did he have to be in the middle of this? So in the middle?
"All I do know is that we need to talk. I need to explain myself, why I reacted as I did when you ..."
Another pause, an exhausted sigh.
"We've talked about this a dozen times, what we want, and the future we want. I just didn't want to start it like this. I want to marry you, I really do. Believe me when I say that. And believe me when I say that if you asked me at any other time I would've said yes. Just not now. Not when you're being driven by the wrong emotions—not by love, but by fear."
Sturgis suddenly felt as if he was eavesdropping on a personal conversation, sensing his need to erase this message once it finished. Not only so no one knew of Harm's relationship with Mac, especially when it had no affect on the case, but also to keep their feelings and conversations where it belonged; only between them. No one else needed to hear this.
"Please don't be angry. I love you, Harm. I love you so much. And I miss you. Don't make me wait too long to hear your voice, Harmon Rabb," she joked.
"I love you."
"Bye."
The message then went silent. Sturgis would keep to his promise, immediately hitting the delete button, giving no one else a chance to hear it. Not even Harm.
What caused his heart to ache was Mac's mood throughout the message. Heavy with emotion, yet light and hopeful that everything would turn out okay.
Hope.
There was only hope left now.
Hope that with Harm's body missing, maybe the attackers messed up. Maybe there was a small chance that Harm was still alive. Though, if the picture was real, and if the blood on the floor was indeed Harm's, there wasn't much to hold onto.
Yet the chance remained.
The hope lit like a lonely candle in the darkness.
... More To Come ...
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