A/N: So here is another rather sad chapter. I know, all of this has been rather sad, but now we're getting to the point where Harm and Mac can work their way back to each other. I'm sure there will still be sadness, but there are good times ahead.

Crash

Chapter 11: Angel

1815 Local

Rabb Residence

Reston, VA

Present Day…

Harm snapped awake, forgetting for a moment where he was. It was dark outside, he was lying on his couch, and his face was wet, which told him he'd been dreaming about Meggie again and had been crying in his sleep. It happened enough, and though he was alone in the house, it still embarrassed him.

But then, why should he be embarrassed? He'd lost a daughter and a wife in a few short months and what better reasons were there to cry? He only wished he had Mac there to comfort him, the way he'd tried to comfort her before she'd left.

Harm remembered how he'd be woken up a night by Mac, crying beside him. He would try to take her in his arms, but she would always quickly turn away and slide out of bed, apologizing for waking him and then tell him she needed to use the bathroom. She rarely returned to bed, and in the mornings, he'd find her wrapped in an afghan crocheted by his grandmother in honor of their marriage.

Harm recalled that other than her clothes and personal items, the afghan was the only thing she'd taken from the house when she'd left.

During the days before she returned to work, Mac still played the stoic marine, and once she was back again at JAG, she'd only become more withdrawn.

It was obvious to Harm that Mac wasn't dealing with her grief over Meggie's death, so one Saturday morning he'd basically tricked her into coming with him to a grief support group.

Her reaction had not been pleasant. She'd lost it outside the room where the group was meeting, telling him there was "no fucking way" she'd go in. She'd castigated him for tricking her, called him a bastard, and then run out of the building. Harm had chased after her, apologizing profusely, but she was having none of it. The screaming, the hurled insults, continued the entire way home, and when they finally made it back to the house, she'd locked herself in their room and didn't come out until the next morning. This of course meant she hadn't had anything to eat in almost twenty-four hours, though Harm did offer food several times. Silence was always her answer, and eventually he gave up. He spent the night on the floor in Meggie's room, cried his own tears, then apologized to Mac again once she finally reappeared. She'd accepted it, and then he told her he'd be returning to the grief support group because he needed it even if she didn't. A look of surprise, then hurt, flitted across her face, but then she'd schooled her expression into one of neutrality.

"You need to do what you have to do," she'd said, and that was the end of it. Harm did return to the support group which did help, but he wished Mac were by his side so they could support each other.

Harm lay in the dark a few moments more and then sat up, remembering at once that he was too old and too tall to sleep on the average sofa.

He supposed he should make himself something to eat, but he had no idea what sounded good. With a sigh, he lifted himself off the couch and headed to the kitchen, knowing that another salad was in his future. Cooking for one no longer appealed to him. For the brief time he'd had Mac here, he'd loved cooking for her. He'd made sure to provide her with enough meat to keep her happy, and in turn, she had allowed him to try out new vegetarian recipes on her. It had become a habit for her to sit at the island and talk while he cooked, and it had always been the best part of his day.

These days, Harm felt unsettled and unhappy. Nothing was as it should be. While at work, he longed to be home, but when he was at home, he wanted to be at work. He was often restless, but when he thought of something to do to keep his mind and hands busy, he couldn't muster the motivation. Some days he felt almost okay, but then he'd wake up and find it hard to get out of bed. His friends had been helpful at least. Bud and Harriet frequently reached out to him, inviting him for dinner or the like, while Sturgis kept him active by dragging him to the gym, where they'd often play some one on one. He was definitely grateful for such good friends. He didn't know where he'd be without them.

After he ate his rather meager salad, he trudged upstairs, intent on taking a shower. To get to his bedroom, he had to pass Meggie's room. Some days he couldn't even look in that direction, but on others, it was like an invisible force was pulling him to the sweet nursery he and Mac had put together.

Today was one such time. He opened the door and stepped in, his eyes filling as he looked on at the crib that still stood ready for his baby. He'd made a cradle for her as well; they intended to keep her in their room for the first few months. The cradle was now stored in the garage; there were some reminders that were absolutely too painful for him to see.

Harm walked over to the rocking chair his parents had sent and sat down, but only for a moment. He soon found himself opening the door to the closet, where high on the shelf rested Meggie's memory box from the hospital. He opened it periodically, both comforted and devastated to see these mementos of a life so brief. He fingered the little dress, the two little bears, and then picked up a photo of him and Mac with their little girl. He was holding her in that one, looking down at her with such a look of love and sadness. Mac wore a similar expression, her exhaustion also apparent in her eyes. She'd sobbed a moment later when it was finally time for the funeral home to take Meggie away, and Harm recalled it was the last time, other than the nights in their bed, he saw her truly cry for their baby. She allowed him to hold her then, but then she'd closed herself off. She didn't even cry at Meggie's funeral, but everyone could see the despair in her eyes.

Harm wondered every night if there was something he could have done or said back then, something that would have kept her from closing herself off, would have kept her from leaving. He could never come up with an answer, however, so those thoughts were merely an exercise in torture.

The last thing he found in Meggie's box was a little card from the minister who'd conducted the small graveside ceremony which constituted Meggie's funeral. The Roberts', Sturgis, PO Coates, and Admiral Chegwidden were in attendance along with his parents, and there were tears from all of them…except for Mac. Harm remembered how they'd stood, his arm around her, while the pastor spoke. She was still weak, her body trembling a little, her arm in a cast. As soon as they'd returned home, he'd taken her straight to bed, while his mother and Harriet prepared a small lunch for the funeral attendees. Harm stayed with Mac until she fell asleep, then went downstairs to cry in Harriet's arms. He found her alone in his kitchen and the moment she saw him, she'd opened her arms to him. He'd asked her how he'd get through this, and Harriet, knowing exactly how he felt, told him it would take time and love.

Time had passed, but the love he needed and wanted was sorely lacking. He missed his wife. He needed his wife, and yet she'd left him to fight this alone.

Sometimes he was absolutely furious with Mac. Furious that she'd left him to grieve alone, and furious that she thought he didn't love her like a husband should.

Harm swiped his hand over his eyes, brushing a few tears aside. It had been an emotionally exhausting day, and as he had done more than once before, Harm lay down on the floor of Meggie's nursery and fell asleep, dreaming about the day he'd buried his little girl.

Flashback…

"Mac, can I help?"

Harm stepped into their bedroom where Mac stood at the mirror, struggling with her dark blue dress.

"I'm fine," she snapped, then continued to fight with the zipper. Harm could see her get more and more agitated, her movements jerkier, so he came up behind her and reached for her zipper. "Dammit, Harm! I said I was fine! I can do this! I can…I can…" Harm saw the tears form in her eyes, but she didn't let them fall. She was breathing heavily as she raised her fist and prepared to smash the mirror.

Harm quickly put his arms around her. "Mac, Mac…it's okay. It's okay! I got this. I got this." He shifted so he could pull up her zipper, then smoothed out her dress for her. He pulled her into his embrace again and she immediately stiffened. He stroked her back and rocked her a little until she finally relaxed, and then he held her a little more.

"Thank you," she finally whispered. He kissed the crown of her head.

"You're welcome, sweetheart. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Mac appeared to be thinking it over, but then she said something that ripped his heart out.

"Yeah. Go back in time and come with me that day."

"Oh, Mac…" What he wouldn't give to have been with her then.

"Oh, Harm. I didn't mean that. I didn't. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry."

"I know, Mac. It's okay. I wish I could go back too."

Harm was thankful the day was cool for July as he trudged up the path to Meggie's gravesite. Mac leaned heavily on him, and he cursed himself for not delaying the funeral for another week. He'd asked Mac if she wanted more time, but she'd told him she just wanted to get it over with. Now he wished he'd ignored her and done what he knew was right. She was physically too weak, which was made clearer when she stumbled a bit. He thought about picking her up and carrying her, but he wasn't foolish enough to believe she'd actually let him.

They eventually made it to the graveside and Harm helped Mac sit in one of the folding chairs that had been set up. Her eyes focused immediately on the tiny white casket that waited by an equally tiny freshly dug grave, while the other attendees took their places.

The service was short yet moving, but when the time came to leave Meggie, his angel, behind, Harm felt the stirrings of panic. How could he just leave his little girl alone? What kind of father was he?

He was a father who'd lost his child. He was a father who'd lost all his dreams in a second of recklessness.

Harm watched as the mourners passed by the little casket. Each one touched it as they went by, until finally it was just his parents and Mac beside him. His mother had his arm around an extremely pale Mac, and Harm knew he should get her back to the car. "I just can't—" He couldn't speak around the lump in his throat. "I just need—" He saw Mac falter.

"Mac, we should—let me—" He couldn't leave Meggie.

"It's okay, son. You take your time. We'll get Mac to the car." Harm looked from Frank to his wife. He raised his eyebrow in question and Mac nodded.

"Thanks, Dad." Frank squeezed his shoulder and then wrapped his arm around Mac as well. Together, his parents led Mac down the path, and then Harm turned back to his daughter.

"I'm so sorry, Meggie," he whispered, placing both his hands on the shiny white casket. It was little more than a shoebox, which was amazing since it held something so important and loved. After a moment he knelt down beside it and rested his head against the smooth wood. "We would have had so much fun, little girl."

Several minutes went by, and though he knew he shouldn't make his family wait any longer, he still couldn't leave his daughter. Knowing he couldn't stay with her forever, his heart started to pound and panic once again settled over him. His breath quickened and his chest started to hurt. His vision blurred with tears or something else, and then it started to tunnel and his fingers started to tingle. He was hyperventilating.

For a moment he thought he was going to pass out, but then a strong hand landed on his shoulder. He expected it to belong to Frank or the admiral, and he was surprised when it turned out to be Bud. The younger man knelt down beside him.

"I know, sir, I know. I know you don't want to leave her, but it's okay. She's safe. She knows you love her. It's okay."

"I can't—Bud, how did you…"

"It was hard, Harm. The hardest thing I've ever had to do, but you and Mac helped me and Harriet through baby Sarah dying, and now we're here to help you."

Harm pinched his eyes shut tight. He knew Bud was right. He could do this. His little Megan O'Hara Rabb was safe. She was, and now it was time to go be with the rest of his family. He could do this.

Harm nodded. "Okay, Bud. Thank you. Can I just—"

"Of course, Harm" Bud stepped back as Harm stood. He rested his hands once again on the casket, then bent forward and kissed it.

"Good-bye, Meggie girl. I love you." With that, he turned to Bud and together, they walked back to the cars parked at the end of the path, Bud's hand giving him strength as it rested on his shoulder.

Present Day…

Rabb Residence

Harm awoke before 0400, still lying on Meggie's floor. His muscles screamed as he pushed himself up and went to his own bedroom to lie down for another two hours or so before he had to get up for work. Despite the fact that he'd been sleeping on and off since he got home yesterday, the sleep was restless and he was still exhausted. It became apparent after only a few minutes that there was no way he was going to sleep anymore that day. Resigned to getting up and going into work early, Harm slid out of bed, took a shower, dressed, and then was at the office by 0500. He started in on his stack of paperwork, and by the time the rest of the staff started to arrive, he had three quarters of it done.

At least his early morning hadn't gone to waste.

Harm worked on a couple more reports, then glanced up at his clock to find it was 0755. Staff call would be in five minutes, so he thought he'd better go grab himself another cup of coffee before reporting to the conference room. He put down his pen and was about to stand when someone barged into his office. Startled, Harm looked up to see his wife standing in his office, her face twisted in fury. She slammed the door behind her hard enough to cause the picture of him and his father to tip over and advanced on him.

"Mac—"

"You son of a bitch!" she nearly screamed.

"Mac, what—"

"You know what you did, you bastard!" With that, she yanked open his door, once again slamming it behind her, leaving Harm utterly bewildered.

End Chapter 11