For disclaimer see chapter 1.
Part 601:00
Saturday, May 20th, 2006
Bethesda Naval Hospital
Surgical ICU
Harm breezed into the SICU at 01:00 on the dot as promised. He and the Chaplain had spent the last 20 minutes in the cafeteria. He'd managed to pick at and eat a small amount of food at the Chaplain's insistence; then with one final note of encouragement, the Chaplain had left for the night promising to return later that day.
Harm quietly approached Mac's room and stood just inside the door. He realized that even though he begged to be here he was almost afraid to get to close. He'd never seen her so quiet, so unmoving…so frail…he'd give anything to hear her 'I'm a marine' speech at that moment. He steeled his resolve and walked over to the bed, politely introducing himself to the nurse and promising to stay out of the way. He settled himself into the uncomfortable bedside chair just as the nurse was finishing up with Mac's vital signs.
"Has she moved at all?" Harm asked reaching for Mac's hand.
"No Sir, she hasn't regained consciousness nor is she breathing over the ventilator yet," the nurse gently replied while moving Mac's gown aside at her left shoulder to check the venous line.
Harm watched the nurse's movements, "What's the bandage on her shoulder for?"
"The anesthesiologist placed a central venous IV line during the surgical procedure. They wanted to make sure that they had good IV access in case the colonel…" the nurse looked away leaving the statement unfinished.
Harm swallowed hard understanding the completion of the sentence…'in case the colonel coded.' Harm glanced back over to his wife. He took in all the tubes and lines that he'd missed in his first harried visit. He slowly reached out a hand and smoothed her hair, brushing a strand away from her eyes. He'd always preferred Mac's hair short and out of her face, that way it didn't hide her beautiful features. He realized he'd never told her that, but then mused that he thought she was beautiful no matter the style of her hair, the state of her makeup or the clothes that she wore. Mac was one of those women who looked equally stunning in evening gown or military fatigues. He liked her best, dressed soft and casual, relaxed and at ease. He ran his hand down her face tenderly cupping her cheek and traced her lower lip with his thumb careful not to disturb the breathing tube. He looked up to find the nurse watching his movements. She glanced away embarrassed to have been caught but mesmerized by the picture of devotion and love.
Harm returned his gaze to Mac, continuing his exploration. Her gown had been returned covering the central IV catheter. He ran his hand down her neck and over her shoulder bringing it to rest over her heart. The beat was strong and steady matching the audible beeps of the monitor. He glanced over to her left wrist and noticed another IV catheter taped in place on the inside of her wrist. He closed his eyes and imagined her leaning backwards against him; her arm drawn back caressing his neck as he lowered his lips to place a kiss on the delicate skin of her wrist—that skin was made for his lips not the cold sterile invasiveness of an IV. He gingerly fingered the dressing and softly asked, "Why did they place an IV here on the inside of her wrist?"
The nurse almost didn't acknowledge the question, feeling that she was intruding on a private moment. Harm then peered up to the nurse raising his eyebrows in question. The nurse cleared her throat answering equally soft, "The catheter was placed into her artery so that we can measure her blood pressure." Harm nodded and continued his progression in a downward descent. His eyes stopped at Mac's abdomen. Even covered with a sheet, it was obvious that the protruding mound that had been Sophie was now gone. He laid his hand gently in place caressing the spot where his daughter had grown. He hesitated briefly but then leaned over hovering just before placing a soft kiss on the visible bulge from the surgical dressing. Mac had tried so hard to keep Sophie inside, to protect her, nourish her…to love her. He once again felt tears well in his eyes and spill onto his cheeks. He pulled back shaking his head and willing the tears to stop. He needed to stop crying; he needed to be strong for Mac…for Sophie. As he turned his head away, he saw the nurse quickly swipe at a tear clearing it from her own cheek. He fidgeted as he tried once again to get comfortable in the small bedside chair then reached onto the bed to grab Mac's right hand engulfing it with his larger one.
The nurse looked up to the monitor, checking the colonel's vital signs once more before leaving the room. She marveled as she discovered that Sarah's systolic blood pressure had dropped 30 points in the short time that the Captain had been in the room. She smiled to herself, maybe Dr. Abrahms was right in his assumptions about this couple. She left the room with a bounce to her step chancing to hope that the beautiful colonel just might wake up on her shift. She needed to go find Colonel Watson; she wouldn't have believed the events of the last 20 minutes if she hadn't seen them for herself. She was determined to find a more comfortable lounge chair for the Captain. If he was the therapy that Sarah needed, then the nurse was determined to keep him comfortably at his wife's bedside.
Thirty minutes later Lucy Watson peeked her head into the room. She noticed that Harm was still fidgeting failing to find a comfortable position in the rigid visitor's chair. Those chairs certainly weren't designed with comfort in mind, especially if the visitor was over 6 feet tall. She smiled as Harm attempted to slump down in the chair, resting his head against the back. All he accomplished was to almost slide off the front and onto the floor. He huffed and sat back up straight, never losing hold of Mac's hand. Lucy stood tall and with arms crossed over her chest entered the room clearing her throat. Harm straightened immediately not wanting to give the charge nurse any reason to remove him from the room. Lucy covered a sly grin, "Good evening Captain or should I say morning? I trust you find our accommodations to your liking?"
"Yes ma'am. No complaints here."
"Really? Sarah's nurse thought that you might need another chair?" Lucy asked while staring intently at the flustered man.
"Not at all. I wouldn't want to be any trouble. You said I should be…" Harm pondered for a moment rubbing his chin, "…quiet and unobtrusive." He'd caught Lucy trying to hide a smile.
Lucy grinned, "I see you've caught me."
"It would seem your bite is not as bad as your bark," Harm grinned back. He was beginning to like this nurse. She protected her patients and staff, but did what was best for the families as well.
"Liz, the colonel's nurse tonight, noted that the colonel's condition seems to be improved since you've arrived." Harm quickly glanced toward Mac hoping to find her awake. He was disheartened to instead find her still lying quietly in bed in exactly the same position as before. His shoulders slumped in response. "I'm sorry Captain. I didn't mean to get your hopes up. What I meant was that Sarah's blood pressure has markedly declined. While it's not yet normal, it's certainly a good sign. Liz thinks the change is due to your presence. I prefer to hold judgment at this time," Lucy glared left eyebrow raised before once again breaking into a smile. "I was instructed by Liz to go find you more comfortable accommodations, since she doesn't intend to allow you out of this room tonight. Liz has decided that you are the colonel's best therapy."
Harm beamed back, "Ma'am I think that's the nicest thing that anyone has ever called me. It certainly beats 'Harmful Rabb'…the SecNav favorite nickname." Lucy howled at that characterization.
"Alright Captain, since you're going to be with us for the night how about we get to know each other on a first name basis. I'm Lucy and I think I've found the solution to your comfort nightmare." Lucy pulled a large overstuffed chair into the room and next to the bed.
"I'm Harm and I think you're my new friend," Harm grinned wide as he settled into the chair.
"Oh but it gets better, Harm," Lucy flicked the side lever and the chair reclined backwards into a comfortable sleeping position.
Harm's eyes grew wide. "Alright Lucy…I stand corrected; you're my new BEST friend," Harm flashed his best flyboy grin with tongue peeking between his teeth.
Lucy stood back and shook her head laughing, "Oh good grief yours is worse than his!"
Harm's smile dimmed a bit, "I'm sorry?"
"That smile, I thought Doc Abrahms' was bad, but yours is positively lethal. I bet your wife fell at your feet the first time you flashed that baby at her," exclaimed Lucy. Harm sobered immediately glancing dejectedly at Mac. "I'm sorry, Harm. I didn't mean to imply anything…look, I'm sure that Sarah's going to be fine; she just needs some time to heal."
Harm nodded with a far away look, "She didn't you know."
"She didn't what?"
"Fall at my feet," he whispered. "When we first met, our first assignment out, I tried to win her over with my 'flyboy smile' as she calls it. She told me that it was 'a very nice smile and that she was sure that it got me whatever I wanted, but she didn't know me.' It took me awhile to figure out that she did like my smile; she hid it well."
Lucy cocked her head sideways, "I'm sure she'll be really glad to see it again when she wakes up." Harm nodded his thanks. "Why does she call it your 'flyboy smile'?"
"Because I'm a fighter pilot, you know a 'flyboy,'" Harm blushed. At Lucy's look of confusion, he continued. "I was a fighter pilot first, but I had a ramp strike. After I spent months rehabbing I needed a new profession. I decided I liked the law, end of story. I still fly just not very often. And don't get me started on what Mac thinks about dress whites and gold wings." Lucy stared back with jovial encouragement. Harm shook his head, "She says they're overrated!"
"Ouch, it seems you wife as your number."
"You have no idea!" Harm laughed back, but then grew serious. "She's also my biggest supporter, defender, cheerleader, best friend and any other adjective you might think to add; I don't think I'd survive without her. In fact, I know I wouldn't. The few times we've been separated I've been miserable. She just has to be fine; Sophie and I need her."
"I'm sure she will be, Harm. Why don't you get some rest. You've had a long night thus far and Sarah's gonna need you to be strong," Lucy added and grabbed a blanket from the corner linen cabinet.
Harm took the blanket and covered up. "Thanks Lucy," he noted as he rolled onto his left side toward Mac, once again reaching for her hand.
Lucy dimmed the lights as she headed for the door. She stopped just before exiting, "Harm, would you like me to turn off the sound for the heart monitor? We don't need it on and it'll probably just keep you awake."
Harm mumbled almost asleep, "No, that's OK Lucy…I like hearing it…it let's me know she's still here." Lucy sighed deeply and left the room, maybe Doc Abrahms wasn't the only romantic on duty tonight.
Lucy checked in periodically over the next few hours. Each time she came back Harm had gravitated in his sleep more and more toward Mac's side. When she checked in at 04:00, Harm had his upper body on the arm of the chair and his head on the bed firmly wedged against Mac's arm, her hand gripped tightly in his. Lucy watched as he unconsciously raised the joined hands to his mouth. He placed a gentle kiss on Mac's palm before moving her hand to his cheek and holding it in place with his own. At that moment as she listened to the noises in the dark room, Lucy could of sworn she heard a sigh come from him as the hand touched his cheek. 'Good grief, I'm as bad as Doc Abrahms and Liz,' she thought to herself. Glancing at the colonel's bedside monitor, she was astonished to find that the colonel's blood pressure was almost back to normal. Maybe there was something to this 'fated soul mate thing,' as Dr. Abrahms had so poetically described it. I guess some things just can't be explained she mused as she went back to her duties.
Harm shifted slightly rubbing his face against Mac's shoulder. He mumbled in his sleep as he slipped deeper into his dream.
He entered Sophie's room in the NICU to find Mac holding her for the first time. He was astonished to find Sophie off the oscillator and back on a regular ventilator. Due to the rigid circuit of the oscillator, it had been impossible to hold her. He'd only been able to touch her…never hold her, but now Mac was gently cradling their little girl with tears running down her cheeks. He felt a momentary flash of panic that perhaps something was wrong, but as he watched his wife and daughter from his position at the door, Mac looked up toward him with an expression of absolute joy. The last time he'd seen that look of happiness, no pure ecstasy, was as she threw herself into his arms to accept his marriage proposal. He slowly inched closer and reverently kneeled before the chair. As he peered into his daughter's face, he was amazed to find her eye's open and staring back at him. In their depths, he thought he could see the secrets of the world. As he gazed further into her mesmerizing blue-green eyes, he saw glimpses of their future and in that one moment he knew that everything was going to be OK.
As he closed his eyes, he could visualize fleeting scenes from Sophie's hospital stay. He saw an image of himself holding Sophie on her one-month birthday with her breathing tube finally removed, her beautiful face visible without the encumbrances of tubes for the first time since her birth. He could feel the touch of her soft cheek on his lips and smell the fresh scent of baby lotion in her hair.
He saw a celebration of sorts as the nursing staff affixed a banner and balloons to the incubator to mark Sophie's passage through the historic milestone of the 'one kilogram weight club.'
He flashed forward 6 weeks as Mac fed her an entire bottle for the first time. He imagined other firsts: weaning from the incubator to a crib, giving her a bath, wearing real clothes, and finally going home.
He basked in the happiness of the picture of Mac rocking Sophie for the first time in her own nursery at home. The moonlight streaming through the windows illuminating the serene countenance on Mac's face as she cuddled their 3-month old daughter against her neck, humming a lullaby in a soft soothing cadence.
In his dream state, he drifted closer trying to make out portions of lyrics and musical notes as they carried him into a place of peaceful tranquility. External sensations began to interfere and gain entrance into his dream. He sensed a steady rhythmic beat which competed with the soothing music. He felt wisps of light touch comb through his hair and grow stronger as the rhythmic beat accelerated. He swatted at the annoyance in a vain attempt at preventing it from arousing him from his world of peace. He was further alarmed when he felt something grab hold of his hand and tug him forcefully toward a wakeful state. He slowly blinked his eyes still try to hold tight to the wonderful dream that danced at the edge of his consciousness. As he gained his bearings the dream slipped away leaving only a sense of peace in its wake. Try as he may he was unable to retrieve the comforting images from his dream. He began to stretch and turn as he took in his unfamiliar surroundings trying to determine the source of his irritation. It was at that moment as he sat up that he came face-to-face with a pair of terrified brown eyes.