She gave in to her instinct and screamed into his face in terror. After his initial attempt to grab her, Webb stepped away quickly and retreated, his pale, haggard face unsettled. One of the guards then stepped into the room and led him away, holding his arm firmly. Mac knew there was no way to lock the door so she dragged a heavy armoire in front of it and spent the rest of the night huddled in a distant corner. Her small, fitful sobs were the only occasional sound in the room and nobody tried to get in, but it was just the start.
The previous aggravating limbo of her stay in the house ended. The nightmare was about to begin.
Webb looked no better in daylight than he did in the shadows. In fact, he looked worse. His skeletal frame looked fragile, shoulders and elbows protruding even through the material of his loose blue shirt. His skin was positively grey and his irises swam in dull yellow. His hair was obviously freshly cut and his clothes clean, but no amount of care could conjure an image of a healthy man. Mac's feelings of terror and repulsion did not stem from how he looked though. All she could remember in his presence was that dark, dark horror he had caused, the abyss he had thrust her in by his actions.
He had almost killed her. Nearly drove her to madness. He did drive her to self-harm. She had wanted to die.
Doctor Letty Polarski insisted on being present at what she called "the reunion" between Mac and Webb. "To give you both a chance to moderate your reactions towards each other. We are all aware there is a lot that needs to be explained and straightened out. Think of me as a mediator. Rather than lash out at each other, address your thoughts to me. That way we can do without confrontation and bickering," she said softly and with a gentle smile. Mac hated that smile and tone.
She was made to sit in an armchair on one side of the room, Webb was in an armchair on the other side and Polarski was sitting opposite them. Mac refused to look at Webb. She bore her eyes viciously into Polarski, determined now more than ever not to give anything away. These people would not have her, not a single little bit of her. It took so much effort though, hiding the tremors which she felt passing through her. Webb. Damn Webb. She felt his gaze. He was staring at her, unblinking. She felt it like a repellent, stifling shroud enveloping her whole being.
Not a look. Not a word. He would have nothing from her. Ever again.
"Clayton," Polarski turned to Webb. "I must say it is wonderful to see you. I want you to know this is a safe place for anything you want to share and say. Everybody in this house is here to help you get better and back on your feet." She put stress on everybody.
Internally, Mac was already screaming. This was her rapist. Rapist! Traitor and stalker! Help him? Help him?! She was not here to help. They could not make her!
She did not look but could hear Webb shift in his armchair as he leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. When he finally spoke, his voice was clear but faltered from time to time.
"I... would prefer to talk to Sarah alone."
Polarski shook her head.
"I am afraid I cannot allow that. Whatever are her reservations, you can hardly say they are unwarranted." She sent another sweet smile towards Mac, who just shut her eyes in response. "The first step, Clay, is to admit to yourself that you have a serious problem. We cannot help you unless you want to help yourself. I trust you do know what I'm talking about?"
"I... I know... but... and yes... I realize... just... Sarah? Why won't you even look at me?"
He sounded like a child. Pleading. Begging. On the verge of tears.
She did not answer. She did not open her eyes and only wished she could close her ears just as easily. She wouldn't have to listen to Webb pleading with her. On and on and on.
"Baby, can you please look at me? I want to explain and ... I am sorry, I really am... baby?"
"Clayton, this is not going to get you anywhere right now," Polarski interrupted, sounding like the most patient person in the world. "the one person who is willing to listen right now is me. Why don't you tell me what you want to say? Perhaps some of it might touch even those who are too angry with you just yet," she prodded calmly.
There was silence for a moment as Webb apparently contemplated what he had been told. Then Mac heard him take a deep breath.
"I just want Sarah to forgive me," he started then. "I know I messed up. I messed up real bad. But I will make it up to you, baby, I promise..."
"Please, Clayton, remember I am the one listening right now, though I am sure not the only one who can hear you" Polarski interrupted, but gave him a mischievous wink.
"Oh... right... well... I will do anything to make it up to her. That's... that's it."
He fell silent again.
"Is that really everything you feel, Clayton? I can see you are genuinely remorseful and that is good. It is wonderful that you see your past failings. It is the only way to get to know oneself and avoid repeating the same mistakes in the future. But perhaps we could delve deeper? I mean, your behaviour, that awful lapse of reasoning that you have been going through, surely came out of something? What happened, Clay? Won't you share that with us?"
"Well... Sarah knows that I have had some troubles ever since I was tortured... a little over a year ago. I was in a bad shape and I will never, ever forget her love for me while I was recovering."
At that point, Mac stopped caring and simply curled into herself in the armchair, clasping her palms against her ears. No. She would not listen to this. Whatever feelings she had had for Webb back then were gone. She had cared for him. Perhaps even loved him in a way, forced herself to love him, but it was all rooted in her own need to be needed, in her feelings of shame for being protected by him. But all that was gone. He had wiped most of those feelings by neglecting her, by making light of her worries, by using her as bait, by not being there when she was alone and scared. And he smashed the rest of those feelings to cold ashes when he hit her. When he pressed his knee into her aching back. When he violated her.
She needed to find a safe thought and soon. Otherwise, she would end up falling apart again.
"My world was falling apart. I was almost let go from the firm. Nothing was going as I needed it to and I could swear somebody was undermining all of my efforts because all of my operations kept failing. Even when I got better I still had nightmares. I still do. So I... I started to drink... and then... then... Sarah left me," Webb choked out and buried his face in his hands.
Harm. Harm was a safe thought. But was he really? That old witch had said he was in the hospital! God! What had they done to him? But no. If he was in the hospital he was alive. And he would get better. He would! She needed him safe. Even at this distance.
"But she is here, see?" Polarski spoke to Webb as if he were a little child. "She is right here. Apparently, she hasn't left forever."
"She still left!" Webb exploded all of a sudden, his previous teariness forgotten. "There are things that are greater than all of us and I have always thought she would get that, but apparently she doesn't! She just left me, never even looked back! Ignored my calls! Ignored everything! As if I were nothing! As if I have done nothing for her!"
"Certainly, she should have taken that into account," Polarski tried to calm him down and finally turned to Mac. "Sarah, why don't you explain your feelings on the matter? I am sure the emotions were raw and high back then, but perhaps you could enlighten us on your mood back then? Certainly, perceptions have changed, even if the tempers have not completely cooled off?"
Harm. Harm was safe. He was alive. He loved her. What was that song he would hum to her when nightmares struck? She tried to recall the melody, but it was difficult.
"What is there to explain?" Webb lashed out again. "She left. That's it! And then... then she took me in and took care of me again and I thought perhaps we could have it all again and I was really sick, I was lost without her. Completely lost. I have never... never loved anyone like this... never."
Just as suddenly as he had exploded before he deflated, sinking into the soft, plush chair, paler than death.
Mac was humming now. She could not recall any words. But the memory and the melody worked their magic. Her muscles relaxed. No matter what they did to her here, her soul was free. Her heart was free.
"I know I messed up," Webb continued, visibly exhausted. "But I will never let you go, Sarah. I love you too damn much and I have suffered too much for you already. You are mine."
Polarski chose that moment to interfere again: "I believe you have made your case, Clayton. Love is definitely much more than just an infatuation, it is also about sacrifices and forgiveness. Nobody can doubt your feelings now. Nobody. Now, Sarah, perhaps you should also tell us what you feel? I must warn you, Clayton, that what you may hear now will be hurtful, but Sarah's feelings are as valid as yours and unless we look at it from her point of view, we cannot really change her mind. Sarah? Sarah?"
She ignored them. She hummed the tune, the old lullaby. It conjured up those stolen moments of bliss when she had been with Harm. In his arms, tangled in sheets, his warmth all around her, his lips caressing her temple. She wasn't even conscious of a tiny smile that crept on her face. Her mind was free. Her heart was free.
And then there was a sharp pain and she opened her eyes in shock.
She was on the floor, staring directly into Webb's red-rimmed eyes. Tears of pain and rage were streaming down his face. With a delayed reaction, Mac realized he had struck her with the back of his hand, knocking her out of the armchair. Polarski was crying out for the guard. Without thinking Mac thrust her palm against Webb's nose. There was a cry and a sound of nose breaking. He let go. She kicked against him, rolling over and away from him. He lunged after her, but the guard had already entered and grabbed him. Polarski was saying something. So was Porter Webb, who had hurriedly stepped inside the room.
They were all shouting. Mac was the only one who was quiet.
"You slept with him, haven't you?!" Webb burst out. "You slept with that bastard! How could you? Don't you know how much I love you! I shed my blood for you! And you go to him and spread your legs for him! After you did for me? Am I not enough? Sarah?! Sarah, baby? Am I not enough for you? Darling, what am I to do? Please, tell me what to do..." With every word his anger dissipated, the final words were accompanied by heavy sobs.
It was his mother who clasped his frail form in her arms and supported him, leading him out of the room. He just kept calling out to Mac.
"I really hope you come to your senses soon," Polarski said coldly once she was the only other person in the room with Mac again. "I don't think you understand how much this particular mother loves her son. And how much she is dedicated to getting him better. The sooner you cooperate the sooner he might find some motivation to actually kick his addiction habit."
"Maybe I don't care about him getting better," Mac answered. "Maybe the only person I want to get better right now is me."
"Well, Colonel Mackenzie," Polarski gave her a poignant look, "I can only assure you that before Clayton gets better, things with you will only get worse."
With that, the woman left the room. Mac looked around, finding her surroundings in complete disarray. Webb leaping up from his seat, attacking her and then thrashing around as he kept trying to get back to her left the armchairs turned over, as well as two lamps, smashed into pieces.
In her bones, Mac knew Polarski did not threaten her in vain. Things would get worse before - if - they would ever get better now. She had to steel herself. She had to be ready. She got up. She went back to her room. She hid in the closet, pressing herself as far back as possible.
She thought of Harm and prayed. For him. For them. And for the first time in her life, because before she had thought it selfish, for herself.
