It was...quiet. The silence was eerily overwhelming, actually. Harm's brain buzzed with the intensity of it. He supposed that might sound strange, but it was true. Growing up in Savannah he had always taken the silence for granted, but after the hustle and bustle of D.C. he was glad to be back in his hometown, even despite the July heat, with all the quiet he needed to effectively relax and let go of everything tying him down. Well, almost everything.
Mac was still on his mind.
The past fifteen years had been the happiest of his life. They had finally solidified their promise to each other to bear a child, and had been married in the process. Life was fantastic, and they each had everything they could have ever wanted. Except for that baby. Though they knew Mac had a very slim chance of conception, they put for their best efforts. Harm wouldn't let her give up. He wouldn't let himself give up.
Nothing they tried seemed to work, until one Halloween night. Their plans had not included a party, but one of Mac's friends, a perky redhead named Karen, was ultimately very persuasive. Their relationship steamed, and, well, they had gone to bed happy. A few months later, Mac was waiting for him when he came home from work. There were tears in her eyes - tears of joy.
She held out a positive pregnancy test.
Harm had never been happier.
Their preparations for the baby kept them both in a constant state of euphoria. The nursery they had been saving up for so many years was finally painted, the crib bought, and stockpiles of diapers and bottles purchased. Karen, whose children were nearing thirteen and nine, proved an instrumental aid in their plans. They were finally going to have a baby! And to Harm, Mac had never looked more beautiful.
A week after the due date, while Harm and Mac were stressing about when the baby was going to decide to come, they were embracing in their kitchen when Mac's grip on him suddenly tightened and a wave of fluid gushed out onto the floor. Their eyes widened and Harm put himself into immediate 'crisis aversion' mode. The suitcase was shoved in the car. A camera was packed, much to Mac's chagrin. Harm called the hospital and warned them he was on his way. Nothing could stop him.
Well, almost nothing.
Nothing except the tail end of a passing eighteen wheeler. Nothing except a drunk truck driver flooring a red light. Nothing except death.
Now, in Savannah, sitting cross-legged in front of the freshly turned earth of one large grave and one small one, Harm shed tears he never believed he would need to shed. He had brought the family to his home rather than hers, knowing the memories lying beneath
the soil of her father's grave in Columbia. Savannah was where he was born, Savannah was where he would die.
Savannah was where his wife and son lay.