4 days later
The alarm clock went off at 6 AM and Harm's hand shot out to silence it. He sent a silent prayer heavenwards that the blaring sound didn't wake Mac and turned his head to check. For a second he was seized by panic.
He was alone in bed.
Fortunately, the next moment he became aware of light being on in the kitchen, as well as the smell of coffee. He threw away the blanket and without bothering to dress, he made his way down the stairs, sporting only white boxers. Mac was standing behind the counter, stuffing bread into the toaster. She smiled when she saw him. Smiled. Really smiled. Harm felt himself falling in love all over again.
"I thought I might at least try to make you a breakfast considering you are going to work and you have been taking care of me all this time," she said. She sounded almost apologetic. It was also the longest sentence he had heard from her in days.
"Don't your feet hurt?" he asked.
"Just a little."
"You're sure?"
"Yes. But you might have to carry me back to bed. Practice makes perfect and maybe it will come in handy in the future too."
An innocent tease. Another small, but genuine smile. He was overwhelmed with relief and love. She was going to make it. She was going to get better. She was letting him in. Without a word he stepped next to her, cupped her face in both his hands and pressed his lips gently, but firmly to hers. For all the touches and kisses he had showered her with ever since he found her, this was the first true kiss. He felt her slipping her arms around his waist and once his lips released hers, he just held her for a while.
"Give me a reason?" she pleaded quietly. Ever since that early morning when he told her he loved her and he had a thousand reasons why, ever since he shared one of the most important of those reasons with her, it has become a habit of sorts. She asked him to give her a reason. He always gave her one. And he always had one. She was compassionate. She was brave. She was resourceful. She was always there for him.
"You could feed my ass to the crabs," he said today and was rewarded by a chuckle.
"I wish I didn't have to leave you," he whispered into her hair. "But the General was really insistent and I think I have completely exhausted his sense of generosity."
"You're not leaving me," she countered. "You are coming home in the afternoon. I'll be here."
He squeezed her shoulders before he let her go, took his cup of coffee and a toast and headed to the table. She joined him there. He happily noted a small plate of scrambled eggs in front of her, as well as a glass of cranberry juice. She was eating and he was not forcing her to.
They ate in companionable silence, afterwards, he pushed his own plate away and took her hand. He nuzzled his face into her palm.
"I never would have thought..." she started, smiling nervously. Why was she still so jumpy whenever she wanted to say something? Did she expect him to get angry at her every word? Weren't they passed that?
"Thought what?" he encouraged her.
"That you were so...cuddly."
He raised his eyebrows. He has been called many things in his life but cuddly was a first.
"It's just that ... even when we're not sleeping...you... kiss me or hug me or... just touch me."
Her face was blooming with the most glorious blush when she said that. Like a pink satin, it covered her cheeks. She was gorgeous. With the dark circles still showing under her eyes, with her cheekbones still protruding sharply, she was gorgeous and he loved her.
"I guess I am now even more jealous of all your girlfriends," she added, her eyes looking anywhere but at him. She tried drawing her hand away, but he would not let her.
"First of all, Colonel," he said and kissed her palm. "There is nobody more worthy of cuddling than you are." A kiss to her wrist. "I also need to admit that while every single touch is meant to make you feel good, it makes me feel even better." A kiss to the inside of her arm. "And secondly I have never been as cuddly with anyone as I am with you." A kiss to her shoulder, visible due to ill-fitting T-shirt. "But I admit I like to hear you know what is to be jealous because you have painted me green more times than I would care to admit." A kiss to her collarbone.
He then reluctantly pulled away with a sigh. "You are addictive, Mackenzie, how will I ever get out of this apartment is beyond me," he said and was only half-joking. Something dark flashed in her eyes and then it was gone, but he noticed. Something in what he had just said ruined the mood and he had no idea what it was. His joke obviously misfired but why?
"Well then, you should probably get going," she told him with a calm he just knew she was not feeling. She rose from the table, gathered the dishes and slowly, carefully on her still-healing feet, moved to the counter to put them into a dishwasher.
A few minutes later he was dressed, his cover and briefcase in his hands. Mac has settled on the couch with a book in her lap. He could not see the title but he was sure there was nothing in his small personal library that would really interest her. He made a mental note to stop by a bookshop and buy something dinosaur-y. Or maybe some new Tom Clancy was out? There was no possibility of getting her own books. He had called her landlord again. Yes, the gentleman was still there in apartment 201.
Looking at her, he decided this was no way to end an otherwise perfect morning. Walking over to her, he sat on the conference table and made her look him in the eye.
"Hey, Mac?"
"Hmm."
"I have called a few people who worry about you. Before you say anything, I only told them you have had a few really rough months and needed a little encouragement. I swear that is all I said. Except for one person who needed a longer explanation, but I promise I was discreet as much as I could. Nobody knows anything specific. They all promised they would call today."
"Harm... Harm I can't..." she tried to protest.
"I told them you may not want to pick up," he assured her in a hurry. "And you don't have to. Let the machine take the call, but please, listen to what those people have to say. They too will give you reasons. Why they love you, why you are important. Don't talk to any of them, if you don't feel like it. But promise me you will listen."
She was drawing back into herself. He could see the walls being erected behind her eyes. He felt dejected. He had hoped this would make her happy, perhaps even excited. He had miscalculated. She was not ready yet.
"You can always disconnect the phone if it bothers you," he suggested warily.
"No, it's fine," she answered finally. "I can listen."
The whole mountain lifted off of his chest.
"I will call too," he promised before he left a few minutes later.
Without Harm near, she found herself quickly slipping into the passive state of not caring about anything yet again. She did not even try to read, just curled up on the sofa and closed her eyes. She did feel better. Her appetite was slowly coming back, moving about was still slow and difficult, but she actually could do it. And she was in a place where she felt safe. If she couldn't be with Harm, being in a place that was so full of him and his scent was the next best thing. At one point she got up and shuffled to the door, making sure it was locked.
Here, inside, she was protected. Outside, there were monsters.
She dozed off several times, but always forced herself awake when unwelcome memories changed into dreams which made no sense and were even more torturous because of that. A cold glass against her face and Eddie bleeding on the deck of Patrick Henry. She tried to stop him from dying. She pressed her hands against his wound but he disintegrated in front of her eyes and she felt her palm sinking into his chest cavity. Suddenly he was Dalton. No, Chris. And her hands were still trapped within his bleeding chest. She could not pull them out.
She finally managed to open her eyes and made her way uneasily to the sink, where she splashed her face with ice-cold water. She needed Harm. A look at the clock told her he had been gone for hardly an hour. She could not call him, could she? It was too soon. He would be too worried. And she needed to start taking her life back. Little steps. Baby steps. She would wait for him to call first.
She dragged herself into bed. She cried for a bit. She no longer even questioned herself on the reason. When she felt like crying she just did. There was no point in avoiding it. She fell asleep again.
Then the phone rang. Harm! She could not make it to the living area quickly enough, her feet still hurting, reminding her of what a big idiot she was. Or what a coward she was for not ending it all at once. Perhaps had she just driven that glass into her forearms instead... NO! She took a deep breath. No. She did not want to die. Harm did not want her to die. She would not die. She would not entertain the thought.
Before she managed to pick up, the machine already started recording. It was not Harm's voice on the other end though and it made her stop in her tracks.
"Hey, Mac! I am so sorry for not calling in such a long time! I really hope you're there. Harm said you would but maybe won't pick up. That's OK. Sometimes I also don't want to talk to anyone. But I really want you to know I miss you!"
Chloe. That was Chloe talking! Mac felt hot tears springing to her eyes. One part of her wanted to pick up the phone, the other held her back. In the end, the latter won the battle. It didn't sound as if Chloe needed her answers. As was her custom, she lead the monologue without hesitation. She talked of horses and school and admitted to dating somebody. "Maybe I will dump him though cause his name is actually Harmon and he refuses to be called by any other form of that. How am I supposed to take him seriously?" Mac had to laugh a little at that. Chloe went on.
"Mac, I also need you to know that besides my dad and my real mum you have been the most awesome and cool person in my life. Seriously, I was soooo immature when I met you and such a brat! I have no idea where I would be without you. You saved me. You made me your family. And found my dad! I love you. Please, when you feel up to it, call me? Maybe you could come here to Vermont, it has been years since you have visited. We can have a slumber party and you can meet Harmon and tell me if he is worth keeping around."
It was just a first call. Barely twenty minutes passed before the machine picked up another one.
