‘Reaching for Sarah’s Soul’ – Conclusion
Author: Daenar
Disclaimer: See Part One
This story is set in the middle of season 7, just after ‘Answered Prayers’.
Chapter Twelve
Feb. 21st
0221 ZULU
Mac’s apartment
Georgetown, D.C.
Silence.
Ever since they had left Leavenworth, they hadn’t spoken but a few unavoidable words. The taxi ride to the airport, their flight back to D.C., the ride to her place in his car – endless hours of extreme tension and silent suffering on both sides. At least Harm suspected as much. He knew very well how he felt, and judging from the way Mac’s jaw was set and how she tried to avoid facing him whenever she could, she had to be hurting just as much as he was. Just the reason was probably a little different.
He had vowed he’d keep his feelings buried deep inside, even at the price of giving an impression of being unable to talk from the heart. That had been the role he had played for years anyway. So it hadn’t taken too much getting used to. The knowledge that he had once crossed that line and had been able to tell her how he felt had made him keep his vow. This and the hope he would be able to do it again when the time came – and that he would be rewarded with her love as he had been back then.
Today’s interview had changed everything. Apart from hurting because he had allowed his feelings to resurface, his heart was aching even more because Mac had to think he was a coward, acting only under pressure and telling a worthless person what would have been hers to hear from him, all alone. He knew she had feelings for him that surpassed the boundaries of the ‘friendship’ scenario he had introduced her to. Their brief close encounter in Arizona had told him that she longed for him to tell her that he was feeling more than friendship for her, too. And today, he knew he had gravely wounded her recovering soul not only by explaining to someone else that he had loved the person she had once been, but even more so by choosing his words in a way that had made it clear to her that she couldn’t expect to be loved by him anymore. Not as long as she didn’t find her way back.
But that wasn’t true at all – and that was where his ever-growing problem lay. He did love her. He still did want her in his life just as badly as he had wanted her before the tragedy. His longing and desire for her to become his – emotionally as well as physically – were slowly but steadily eating him up from inside. A thousand times a day, he had to will himself to refrain from pouring his heart out to her and give in to what he knew she wished most. Knowing they both wanted nothing more than to acknowledge their bond and yet knowing that it would be fatal to do so... Harm had no idea just for how long he would have the strength to carry on.
Only the conviction that he did it for her best, saving her the pains of a probable failure, was keeping him from faltering. He still loved ‘Mac’ too much not to look for her in ‘Sarah’. And under this burden, Sarah was sure to break. She might not know it, but she was better off if he left her alone.
When he had still been seeing Diane in Mac, the danger of him having a weak moment had lessened as the time had passed. Being with Mac, he had soon learned that Diane had been a different person altogether. The longer he had known his JAG partner, the more his Academy love had faded into the background. At a certain point, it had become as natural as anything to know the difference between the woman who had once been in his heart and the one who had slowly found her way into it.
Now, however, the situation was reversed. As Harm was sitting on the couch in Mac’s living room, waiting for her to get the coffee she had offered upon their return from Kansas, Harm was aware of how much the apartment had become ‘her’ again. It wasn’t the clean, rather impersonal place anymore that he had brought her back to from California. In the course of the last weeks, Mac had made herself at home again. The place breathed of her personality. And he noted that it was just as he had known it to be. So, the longer he was near ‘Sarah’, the more she became ‘Mac’ again in his eyes, whether he wanted her to or not.
He saw that Mac’s hand was shaking when she set the coffee mug on the table before him. A few drops fell onto the polished piece of furniture but right now she didn’t seem to have the nerve to wipe them away. Instead she only retreated to the other end of the couch and, clutching her own mug with both hands, she blew into the brown liquid, staring at the ripples her breath caused on the surface.
Picking up his own mug, Harm observed her over its rim. Mac didn’t even seem to be ashamed of showing how intimidated she was by the situation. He had to admit to himself that this was a side he liked in ‘Sarah’ – not having to fight the eternal wall that had so often closed her off from him. But then, he had changed, too, in this respect. Before New Year, it had just as often been him to seek shelter behind a mask of his own. Now, he felt he wanted to talk about what had happened today. Badly. So when she had invited him to come up for coffee, apparently having thoughts of a similar kind, he had gladly accepted right away. Much as he would try to keep his distance, he wouldn’t be the one to run. This friendship was too important to miss out on any chance to save it.
When the silence was becoming hard to bear, he sighed, deciding it was up to him to offer the opening. After all it had been him – forced or not – who had clearly taken a step today that couldn’t be undone. “I’m sorry about the way things went today,” he said in a low voice.
Mac took a sip of coffee and swallowed it with considerable difficulty. Still not looking at him, she asked, “You’re sorry that I heard how you felt about my alter ego?”
He couldn’t help wincing slightly. Shaking his head slowly, he set down his mug again and unconsciously hugged himself in a gesture of self-protection. “No, I’m sorry about the way you heard. I should have told you directly. But I had no idea...”
“That he was going to pull that move on you?” she asked, unable to fully mask the hurt in her voice. “Do you think you would have told me if you could have been sure the topic would never be forced onto you?”
“I dunno,” he murmured, resigned. ‘Honesty, Rabb,’ he then reminded himself. “No, actually, I do know,” he went on just as low, making her look up at him, her surprise evident. “I do know that I wouldn’t have,” he admitted, pained, “Because I swore to myself I wouldn’t.”
The sudden flash of pain in her eyes stabbed him in the heart. “You must have loved her more than anything,” she stated in a low, choked voice.
He nodded, drawing a shaky breath. “Yeah,” he finally acknowledged, looking away.
After what sounded like a low, suppressed sob, it took her a while to formulate her next question. Or to gather her courage – Harm didn’t know which it was. Eventually, though, she spoke up again. “Did Mac know how you felt?”
“For a long time, I suppose,” he answered truthfully, forcing himself to meet her gaze again and finding a single tearstain on her right cheek that he didn’t dare wipe away right now.
“But did you ever tell her?”
Harm felt as if he were standing at the edge of a cliff. Take one step forward – and break the vow you made to safeguard your hopes of happiness. Don’t – and let her deduce from your silence that you want to exclude her from your life. With a slight, defiant shake of his head, Harm ignored the million thoughts spinning through his brain and decided to trust his gut for once. He stepped into the void.
“Yeah, I did,” he confirmed, reaching for Mac’s hand as she had just set down her mug on the table, too. Encircling her fingers with his, he became aware that they were icy although she had warmed them all the time while drinking. Her eyes widened as she seemed to read in his what had followed his admission back then.
Entire minutes ticked by. Neither of them knew in which direction they could safely descend the mountain they had just climbed together.
“Then why do you keep looking after me?” she finally queried, her voice barely audible. “If things have changed that much for you, you must hate me for not being her...”
“But I don’t,” he admitted shakily, desperately trying to stop himself but at the same time knowing it was a lost cause. The pressure deep inside had found a hairline crack in his armor and was about to make it crumble for good. “I don’t, Sarah,” he repeated, cupping her face with his left hand and finally brushing away the tearstain with his thumb.
Fear welled up in him when he saw the slightest glimmer of hope creep into her eyes. “Then stop drawing back,” she pleaded shyly. “I may not be who I once was, but I can assure you that you won’t find me any less devoted to you than she may have been.” She swallowed hard, briefly closing her eyes and then looking at him again in firm determination. “Listen, Harm... you need to know that... that over the last few weeks, I have come to love you very much.”
“Mac... Sarah... don’t...” he protested weakly, knowing he didn’t mean it.
The vulnerability in her eyes bordered on being inhuman. “Am I really that different?” she whispered, barely getting the words out. “Don’t you think you could in time learn to love me? Would it be so hard to imagine that I might still be able to give you what you were hoping for? I’m only asking for a chance, Harm. Maybe you don’t love me now but...”
At those words, his last defense line fell. “Wait,” he choked out, looking down to regroup a moment and holding up his hand to make her see he needed to be heard out now. When he felt settled enough to speak coherently, he gently took her face in both his hands, laying all his heart into his gaze, praying he was doing the right thing.
“I do love you, Sarah,” he admitted hoarsely, “Just as you said: more than anything. But this is the one reason why I need to leave you alone. I’m not sure if I’m mixing up wishful thinking and true caring here. Much as I’d like to convince myself that it’s neither ‘Mac’ nor ‘Sarah’ whom I want in my life, but just you – I’m almost certain that I’ll eventually screw this up because I can’t stop thinking of could-haves or comparing the two of you.”
Rage was rising inside him because he couldn’t even seem to explain where the problem was. “Hell, I know that you’re still her... or that she’s as much you as she could be... or... dammit...” The swearword was choked by a profound sob he had tried in vain to suppress. He squeezed his eyes shut and sniffed before he could face her again. “Anyway,” he forced himself to continue, “The bottom-line is that as long as you don’t remember our history, or who I was to you or who you were yourself... I would only cause you even more pain than I already have. That is why I can’t do this. For your sake – because I’ve hurt you over and over again unwillingly in the past, and I love you too damn much to risk breaking you for real.”
She swallowed hard and didn’t seem to do anything anymore to prevent her tears from falling, but in her eyes, deep understanding slowly became perceptible to him. And although the old scar on his heart was bleeding as much as ever again, making it hard to breathe, he suddenly felt immensely grateful.
She even tried a sad, tearful half-smile. “Would you kiss me goodbye?” she begged shakily.
Knowing his vocal chords were unable to comply, he only nodded and for one last time brought his lips to hers.
The memory of that one long moment of farewell, the deepest sincerity of their feelings, combined with the incredible tenderness of their touch, were what both took with them as they went to sleep only a short time later, separated by physical distance and rational decisions, yet united in pain and caring.
Feb. 21st
0910 ZULU
Harm’s apartment
North of Union Station
Washington, D.C.
It was the persistent knocking that woke him. He instantly knew it was Mac. For a moment, his heart started to race frantically because he had no idea what he was supposed to feel. Gratitude that she’d still come to him in the middle of the night when she felt she needed to? Or trepidation because the wounds of last night hadn’t nearly closed enough to be tested again by the very same emotions that had caused them?
Yet, he knew she’d never have come if she didn’t have a good reason, especially after last night. So he tried to block the thoughts about any possible outcome of the situation out of his mind. Mac came first.
Drawing one last decided breath to steady himself, he opened the door. She was wearing sweats and sneakers as if she’d been out for her early Saturday morning run – only that it was far too early this Saturday for her to be out running. Her face was still slightly red and swollen, telling him her tears hadn’t stopped for some time after he’d left her alone last night. But a closer look at her face soothed his bad conscience just a little: her features now bore the expression of cool professionalism he knew so well.
“Can I come in?” she asked shyly instead of a greeting.
“Sure.” Harm opened the door a little wider and gently took her by the arm, leading her inside without directly looking at her.
She stepped inside and put down a bag she had been carrying. Harm closed the door and looked at her questioningly. This time, the opening had to come from her. Not that he wouldn’t have supplied it – he just didn’t have a clue what she was up to.
She got straight to the point. “Harm, you told me you’d do anything to help me recover, right?” He nodded, waiting for her to elaborate.
“Then, please, get your overnight bag and come to the airport with me.” With that, she handed him an envelope, her voice allowing no refusal.
His first notion would have been to ask her to slow down, take a seat on the couch and explain what this was all about. But the combination of vivid feelings mirroring in her eyes – hope, despair, defiance, determination, fear – made him control his reaction. It was evident she meant it, and it was equally evident that this wasn’t a mere whim. Mac had decided to fight her fate. And if this meant she was in whatever way dealing with it, she had his full support.
“Where are we going?” he merely asked, his outward calmness not really genuine.
“Arizona.” Her answer was just a little too curt to sound as unafraid as had probably been intended.
At once, the memory of their last trip resurfaced and he needed all his willpower not to wince. “Okay. What are we supposed to do there?”
“I want to go back to Red Rock Mesa. To where I was shot.”
“But we’ve already been there,” he reasoned gently, against his own will. “What do you expect to find this time that you didn’t back then?”
She sighed, never averting her gaze. “I don’t know. But I have to try. Something...” he could see she was searching for the right words, “Something just tells me I have to go there again.”
‘I’m sure the clue must lie somewhere in this story...’ Harm suddenly heard Dr. Smith’s words in his mind. This was the moment he knew he couldn’t prevent her from going. He was still doubtful it would do more good than harm facing the ordeal head-on yet again, but if Mac had had some kind of a vision or whatever one wanted to call it – after his crash in May he was the last to contradict to giving it a shot.
He carefully laid his hands on her shoulders. “If you really think it’ll help you...” he began, doubt ringing in his voice.
Mac’s lower lip began to tremble slightly but she stubbornly held his glance. “Harm, last night showed me just what I’ve really lost. It’s not only my past. It feels like my whole future. So, if you were in my situation, what’d you do?”
He only looked at her for a moment, not moving, all but losing himself in her pleading eyes. Finally shaking himself from his state of haze, he turned briskly and walked over to the bedroom. “Give me ten minutes.”
“Harm...”
He stopped and turned.
“Thank you,” she said shakily, relief lighting up her expression. He smiled back, thankful she still trusted him to this extent.
“Anytime.”
Feb. 21st
1840 ZULU
Red Rock Mesa
Arizona
The rental jeep was jumping so hard Harm thought the axles would break before they even reached their destination. As they were driving across the rocky desert of Monument Valley at forbidden speed, Harm had to take a firm hold on the handle in order not to bump his head against the side window. He had offered to drive but Mac had insisted he navigate and let her take the steering wheel. After not too much of a discussion he had given in. It was much easier to look at her while she had something to concentrate on.
During the whole flight she had sat slumped in her seat, her fingers clutching the handle of her bag, miserably and impatiently staring out of the window. He had had to fight a strong urge to take her into his arms for comfort but he knew it would have been just the wrong thing to do. Her Marine mode was what she needed right now – it would protect her better against the hardship she was about to face than he himself possibly could have. So Harm had just sat there, watching as waiting for their plane to land had seemed to slowly drive her crazy. At the wheel, however, she looked almost relaxed. She was clearly working off her frustration and anger. He only hoped it would tire her out enough to allow a certain numbness to shield her from suffering too much if this trip turned out as fruitless as the first.
They rode in silence, each contemplating their own thoughts. The only words they exchanged were when from time to time, Harm would consult the map and give her directions. Finally Harm motioned her to stop. She stepped on the brakes, they jolted to a halt and exited the car.
Mac took a few tentative steps onto the open ground and then slowly turned and looked around, seeming to have no eye for the awing beauty of the reddish table mountains dominating the view. “I know we were here a few weeks ago but apart from that...” She sighed, then squared her shoulders. “Okay, let’s go right back to zero. So this is where it happened?”
Harm walked up to her. “Yeah. Over there, on that hilltop, is the entrance to that cave you used to come to with your uncle. That’s where they kept Sergei, Chloe and AJ hostage.”
She had already seen the scenery once but apparently, she tried to look at it as if it were new to her. Harm watched as she climbed the little hill and entered the cave, staying back himself. He needed to give her all the time she needed, although he had little hope that she would find anything new. But maybe this trip would at least help her to find some kind of closure.
Mac re-emerged from the cave, frowning. She slowly descended the hill and walked back towards him across the plane, all the time scrutinizing her surroundings as if to make sure that not even the most unimportant detail would escape her notice. Harm felt his chest tighten as the time passed and her expression became more and more openly desperate. So far, nothing in the least helpful had come up and yet, she couldn’t seem to bring herself to admit failure and break off her search for no one knew what. Stubbornly she continued pacing around, making him tell her the exact events over and over again. Harm was sure that from her inner clock, she had to know they had already been out here for more than two hours but if that was the case, she kept ignoring time. It seemed as if she were convinced that her last ray of hope would finally fade away, should she accept defeat.
They had once again climbed the hill that held the entrance to the cave. Trying to suppress her tears of rage and despair she scanned the surroundings for what had to be the hundredth time. But again, all her efforts were fruitless. Finally, lack of sleep, exhaustion and pain were taking their toll on her. Harm could see she tried to fight it, but in the end she broke down on the spot, crying helplessly.
Harm kneeled down and in spite of all his contrary feelings tried to take her in his arms. But apparently, the closeness was too much for her to bear. She roughly pushed him away, struggled back to her feet and started to run down the hill although she had to be half blind with tears.
“Sarah, don’t!” Harm quickly got up but slipped and fell. Swearing, he pulled himself up again and as cautiously as he could, half ran half slid down the slope. He was afraid she would hurt herself badly if she kept on running like she was, oblivious to her surroundings and the dangers the rocky ground held. In the true sense of the word blinded by emotion.
“Mac!” he furiously shouted after her, too afraid to notice he used the old nickname, “Dammit, slow down or you’ll fall!”
However, Mac didn’t seem to hear him. Or if she did, she didn’t seem to care anymore. She stumbled various times but never broke off her desperate chase. It was clear to him she didn’t know where she was headed. Apparently, she only wanted to get away, to wear herself out to the point where no hurt could penetrate her conscious anymore.
Harm had almost reached her when suddenly his heart skipped a beat. About 60 yards before him, Mac stumbled again and this time lost her footing. A scream tore through the deep silence around them when she hit the ground. The momentum of her fierce run made her body roll on downhill, overturning several times until she had reached the even ground. Her head collided violently with a piece of rock, then she lay motionless.
“Sarah!” Harm screamed in terror, accelerating his pace as much as he could without risking to follow her down himself. It took him entirely too long until he reached her, all the time praying she wasn’t injured for real.
To his overwhelming relief, she started moving again when he was only a mere ten yards away. Yet, what she was doing seemed strange. She seemed to reach for something on the ground before her and when she picked it up, she pulled her hand close to her face as if to examine what she held in her hand.
Panting, he finally dropped to his knees at her side. “Are you all right?” He cupped her face and examined the cut on her forehead that was bleeding considerably. When she didn’t answer, he lifted her chin with his finger to meet her gaze.
Strangely, in her eyes, he didn’t see any physical pain. What he saw looked more like deepest confusion and absolute disorientation. “Sarah?” he asked softly, caressing her cheek. “Everything okay with you?”
“Not Sarah,” she said in a barely audible voice. “It’s Mac.”
“What...?” he whispered, aghast, suddenly unable to get his thoughts into an order that was reasonable enough to make him understand her words.
Painfully slowly, her face contorting from the strain, she held out her hand to him.
On it lay a piece of the most delicate white golden chain he had ever seen – a pendant shaped like the outlines of a heart dangling freely from it.
Chapter Thirteen
Just a few minutes earlier...
Away. She had to get away. From him. From here. From this pain. From this life.
It was too much to bear. She was drowning in despair and his tenderness was bound to push her over the edge for good. Violently freeing herself from his embrace, Sarah stumbled to her feet and set off in the first direction she turned her head in.
Away, just away from him. Run, run, run, never stop...
For a fleeting moment, Harm’s frantic voice penetrated her conscious, crying out to her, begging her to stop and be careful. But Sarah knew she couldn’t listen to him. She needed to go on. Away, just away...
She didn’t care anymore – where she was going, where she placed her feet, what might happen to her if she fell, what her being injured might do to him... It just didn’t matter. Sarah was sick of this life, sick of chasing after someone she didn’t know although people told her she was chasing herself. She was sick of feeling her heart being ripped apart by every glance Harm would throw her way, by every word he said, by everything he did for her. She was sick of not being able to do anything for her personal happiness. It was too much.
Stumbling, retrieving her equilibrium just in time so as not to fall, she pushed herself forward. One basic force was driving her: pain. Harm loved her. Yet, Harm didn’t love her. Harm longed to be with her. Yet, Harm wouldn’t let himself be with her. Harm wanted her in his life. Yet, Harm excluded her from his life best as he could, even vowing to himself he would do so.
And there was nothing Sarah could have done to change the situation.
Last night, when – after hours of crying – she had made the decision to come out here again, she had laid all of her hopes, all of her expectations, all of her wishes, all of her strength... all of her heart... into this one journey. She had fought until she had been at the verge of collapsing, had put everything on the line...
Nothing. Her past stayed where it was. In darkness.
So darkness was all Sarah had left to wish for.
Enraged, she sniffed and roughly wiped away her tears that were blurring her vision, never slowing down. Suddenly, her left foot encountered something irregular on the ground. She had no time to readjust her equilibrium, she stumbled and fell. An excruciating jolt of pain ran through her whole body when she hit the ground, making her scream. She rolled on downward, all the time desperately seeking for something to hold on to, to slow down her descent. In vain. Once more hitting her head violently on some rock, leaving her unable to breathe for a few seconds, her fall was finally halted.
Sarah felt something warm and sticky trickle from her forehead down her temple. Her whole body was in pain. She needed to move. She needed to get away... away... She couldn’t...
All of a sudden, her eyes caught sight of something that for a split second gleamed on the reddish ground before her. Mechanically, she reached out, desperately trying to ignore her pain. It was a piece of a delicate white-golden necklace, all knotted up and torn, but there was a pendant hanging on it, gleaming despite the red dust that covered it thickly. The outlines of a heart.
Time froze as slowly, achingly slowly, a thought made its way to Sarah’s conscious. Everything around her slowed down to almost a stop.
‘My whole body is in pain...’
Then, out of nowhere, a second...
‘I need to get away... I need to save him...’
Totally unexpected, a third...
‘I can’t move... I’m dying...’
A fourth...
‘Harm... save me... save me...’
‘No, go back, get back to the car...’
‘Take little AJ...’
‘Run... blood... shooting... don’t leave me... pain... run... I love you...’
It was then that it happened. As more and more bits and pieces arose from nowhere, quicker, mightier, assaulting her troubled mind without warning, fusing into a giant roar of thoughts, images, emotions, one single picture suddenly stayed firm in front of her mind’s eye. A moment of clairvoyance in the eye of her mental storm:
Harm’s face, distorted from the agony of seeing her die and being unable to save her. Having to make the hardest of decisions: her life or that of the child in his arms. She had known it was the last time she’d ever see him.
It had been her moment of letting go of everything that made her life worthwhile, of her most cherished dream that had finally come true just a few hours earlier.
Sarah’s ultimate moment of sacrifice.
The pain was overwhelming. She had to get rid of it. She had to ban this image from her mind. She had to clear her brain from anything that might ever revive it again. She had to forget. About him. About what could have been. About everything... so she could die in peace. Forget, Sarah, forget...
Forget...
For...
Just then, Sarah made a tiny movement with the hand the heart-shaped pedant was lying in. A sunray caught in it in just the right angle. For a millisecond, its gleam was reflected directly into her eye...
Harm’s pendant. Harm’s gift of commitment. This was real. She was here. The pain lay in the past... in her hand lay her future... All Sarah needed to do was not forget.
And Mac decided she wouldn’t.
Meanwhile...
“Are you all right?” Harm cupped her face and examined the cut on her forehead that was bleeding considerably. When she didn’t answer, he lifted her chin with his finger to meet her gaze.
Strangely, in her eyes, he didn’t see any physical pain. What he saw looked more like deepest confusion and absolute disorientation. “Sarah?” he asked softly, caressing her cheek. “Everything okay with you?”
“Not Sarah,” she said in a barely audible voice. “It’s Mac.”
“What...?” he whispered, aghast, suddenly unable to get his thoughts into an order that was reasonable enough to make him understand her words.
Painfully slowly, her face contorting from the strain, she held out her hand to him.
On it lay a piece of the most delicate white golden chain he had ever seen – a pendant shaped like the outlines of a heart dangling freely from it.
The pendant he had given her. The very one his father had given to his mother.
Good God.
His surroundings started to spin. He had to take one of his hands off her face and rest it on the ground to steady himself, squeezing his eyes shut against the sickening whirl. ‘Not Sarah, it’s Mac...’
“Mac...” he whispered, eyes still shut.
“Harm.” He barely heard her answer. It was choked by a sob. A sob that almost sounded overwhelmed... with joy.
“Harm, it’s me,” he heard her speak up again, a slight tinge of trepidation creeping into her voice at his lack of reaction. “I won’t ever leave you again,” she added in almost a whisper.
Mac. And what if... He didn’t dare trust his luck. He couldn’t risk believing and losing her again.
“Harm, look at me,” she pleaded, “Please... I remember you... I remember us... New Year...”
Trying to prepare for the emotional impact, he opened his eyes and met hers. Hope was shining in them, surprise, joy, expectance, love.
Should he, could he dare wager his soul?
“I could have told you about New Year,” he said, his voice feeble. ‘Stay rational, Rabb. That’s the only thing that will save you if everything falls apart.’
Deep shock was mirrored on her features, and he saw fresh tears well up in her eyes. “Do you really think I would make this up...?” she asked, aghast, the words barely audible. “Do you think I’d betray...”
“I don’t know what to think,” he admitted, swallowing hard. “Trusting my luck was never advisable...”
“But I am here, Harm,” she tried to make her point a little more firmly. “I am here with you, telling you that I love you, just like I did when you gave me this.” With a trembling hand, she again held the pendant out to him.
He once again felt the need to contradict. For his own mental safety. “I so want to believe you,” he told her in a shaky voice that threatened to break. “But I don’t know how...”
And he had no idea what he could tell her to do to help him. ‘Give me a sign, God,’ he prayed silently, feeling the pressure in his chest was about to destroy him. ‘Let me make the right choice.’
“And if I could prove it to you?” she asked. “Would you listen and try to judge objectively whether I’m right or wrong? Would you, Harm?”
This time, he was completely unable to fight the sudden surge of hope that took hold of his conscious. “Do you honestly think you could?” he whispered.
She nodded, swallowing. “Ask,” she merely said. “Ask me whatever you want to know.”
His first notion was to dismiss the thought from his mind. If he started digging and found she wasn’t able to supply the answers he was looking for... But one more look into her beautiful brown eyes finally gave him the courage to face the hardest interrogation he had ever conducted. The one his life’s happiness depended upon.
He drew a deep breath. “Okay... when we were in Svichevo, with Pitcha, and she told me that no one knew where my father was buried, what did she tell me her brother used to say?”
A wistful smile for a fraction of a second lit up her features. A smile that almost resembled those that people showed when they were contemplating memories that were special to them... Harm’s heart was racing. Could it really be...?
“She said that her brother told her that the taiga was so big that only the birds knew where it ended.”
The right answer. She had given him the right answer. Involuntarily, Harm reached for Mac’s hand and held on to it as he would to a lifeline. Her touch was suddenly reassuring and firm in a gentle way, and her smile had deepened.
A lifeline... He had to be sure. Absolutely sure.
“What did you tell me on the admiral’s porch when I said that in my world you’d die once you lost control?” He tried to still the trembling of his hand but couldn’t bring himself to let hers go. His eyes were fixing hers, imploring her to answer correctly, now that his hopes were rising faster than ever. ‘Please, Mac...’
“I told you you weren’t flying a Tomcat and that you should let go of that lifeline before it became a noose.”
Again. She had done it again. ‘God, let her be right one last time and I swear I’ll believe it’s her. Just let her be right, please, God...’
He almost couldn’t get the words out. His throat was strangled by the insufferable pressure that had accumulated within him. One last answer and he’d let it break free, one last answer...
“And what did I tell you when we had decided we should go in?” he asked, trembling, not knowing where to look, how to breathe, what to do...
“You have someone who’ll always love you,” she cited him literally. And when he finally dared to meet her gaze again, the fact that her answer had been correct slowly getting through to him, she went on, “And you have somebody that loves you...”
The same voice, the same tone, the same wording, the same emotions shining in her eyes.
In that precise moment, Harm let go of his lifeline.
He couldn’t prevent himself from dropping her hand, curling up, still kneeling, resting his forearms on his thighs and burying his face in his hands. He sobbed once, twice... he felt Mac’s arms going around him from the side, drawing him to her, making his head rest in her lap.
And then the tears came for real.
Feb. 21st
2338 ZULU
Pueblo Motel
Somewhere on the road to Phoenix
Arizona
Shyly standing half a yard apart from him, Mac was holding the receiver to her ear as she pressed the speakerphone button. Her eyes never left his – just as they barely hadn’t since the time he had cried himself out in her arms. Then, suddenly freed of his immense burden, had only taken her by the hand, wordlessly led her to the car and set a course for home.
Every few seconds, his gaze had wandered from the road to her eyes that were fixed upon him, her angelic smile ever present. Neither of them had needed words to express what was going on. Eventually, he had decided it was getting too late to try and catch a flight home the same night. So he had, still wordlessly, followed the next sign indicating a motel. They had found it comfortable – and hadn’t found the strength to object when the receptionist had wished Mr. and Mrs. Rabb a pleasant stay.
Once the door had closed behind them, neither had known what to do. No falling into each other’s arms, no real contact even, only her hand in his. And their gazes locked as firmly as ever.
Eventually, she had found the courage to speak. “I’ll call the admiral. He’ll want to know.”
“Now?”
“You think I shouldn’t?”
He had thought about it for a second, but then had decided she was right. Their friends wanted to know. And the admiral was too dear a person to both of them not to relieve him of his grief and concern about her state. “No, it’s okay. Go ahead.”
He had accompanied her to the phone and now their smiles were broadening by the second as they heard the dial tone on the other end of the line, knowing they were about to communicate a miracle.
[“Chegwidden.”]
Mac cleared her throat. “Good evening, sir. This is Colonel Mackenzie.” At the use of her rank, she winked at Harm whose heart did a little somersault.
[“Colonel?”] They could tell the admiral was slightly confused as if he didn’t know his lines. [“Good evening, what can I do for you?”]
Mac quickly covered the receiver with her hand as both had to stifle their chuckles. Then, she drew a deep breath and tried to calm down again, giving Harm a look that made his breath catch in his throat. Her dark eyes were sparkling with merriment and affection as she smiled like she would at her co-conspirator who held a special place in her heart.
“Uh... I just wanted to let you know that I... ah... decided to apply for reinstatement to my position by July 1st. If that is convenient for you, sir.”
The silence on the other end of the line spoke volumes. Just when Harm was about to urge Mac to say something, Chegwidden found his voice that was just a little hoarse. [“Is there anything else you might want to tell me, Sarah?”]
“It’s Mac, sir,” she said instead of a direct answer. Harm thought he was about to burst from suppressed laughter. A bottle of champagne couldn’t have had more effect on him than the grin she threw him, again accompanied by a wink at hearing the admiral’s question.
Seconds ticked by... three, four, five...
[“Good Lord...”] the admiral breathed into the receiver rather shakily. [“How?”] he only managed to ask.
“Commander Rabb and I went to Arizona again, sir,” Mac explained, every single word ringing with happiness, “And... I don’t know... it just happened.”
A deep sigh made its way over the phone line. [“I can’t begin to tell you how glad I am to have you back,”] the admiral finally stated, apparently for once not even trying to conceal his feelings. [“Of course, as soon as you have them, we’ll process the papers to get your reinstatement on the way. Now... where’s that lucky son of a... so I can thank him?”]
Finally, Mac let her laughter bubble up, making Harm laugh out loud with her. He took the receiver she handed him, his voice overflowing with glee. “Admiral, sir?”
[“How the hell did you do that, Commander?”] Chegwidden grumbled, trying to mask his emotions with his usual gruffness but failing miserably.
“I had no hand in it, sir,” Harm answered truthfully, a little astonished at his CO’s reaction. “Actually, it was by pure chance that Mac found...”
[“Nonsense,”] the admiral cut him off. [“We all know to what extent you battled for the colonel’s recovery. If there’s any merit in this whole affair, it goes all to you. Understood?”]
“Understood, sir,” Harm mumbled, embarrassed but genuinely pleased by the unexpected praise. “Thank you, sir.”
[“Do you have court this week, Commander?”]
“On Wednesday, the Dubois Article 32 I prep...” Harm didn’t get any further.
[“Then I’ll see you on Wednesday, preferably with the colonel’s file all prepared. Enjoy your time off.”]
Unconsciously pulling himself up to attention, Harm joyfully acknowledged, “Aye, aye, sir!”
[“And... Harm?”] Suddenly, the admiral’s voice was gentler than they had ever heard it.
“Yes, sir?” Harm cast Mac a puzzled glance. She shrugged, pursing her lips.
[“Take up where you left off when Lieutenant Sims called you. That’s an order, son.”]
“I had no intention not to, sir,” Harm replied softly, feeling his cheeks starting to burn.
[“Very well, carry on. Goodnight, Colonel, Commander.”]
Mac quickly approached Harm so she could speak into the receiver together with him.
“Goodnight, sir.”
“Goodnight, sir, thank you, sir.”
With an openly smirking [“Dismissed!”] the line went dead – and Harm became aware that Mac’s mouth was suddenly very close to his where they’d bent over the receiver together. When she turned and fully faced him, her lips were mere inches away from his. His heart started beating frantically.
This was it. No denying, no turning back. Now all he had to do was cross that line again. Three little words. ‘You can do it, Hammer, you know you can,’ he encouraged himself.
Drawing a decided breath, he gently laid his hands on her shoulders, drawing her closer until their bodies touched. “I don’t recall exactly what we were saying or doing when Harriet called,” he confessed shyly. “But how about I start with ‘I love you’?”
“Wow,” she answered in a low, happy voice, putting her arms around Harm’s neck. “Facing the enemy head-on, right?”
“No,” he contradicted with a smile, “Just tying up loose ends.” Bending his head to the right, he leaned in and, his heart beating fast, finally felt her lips on his again. But unlike the day before, this was a kiss of welcome, not of goodbye. He felt her body mold to his and wrapped her in his arms, pulling her close, still not fully able to believe that nearly two months of unimaginable hardship for both of them had been overcome, at last.
As the kiss started to take up a life of its own, growing in passion and devotion, Harm had to break off again and he embarrassedly wiped away a few tears that had resurfaced when the reality of the moment had hit him full force.
“Sorry, honey,” he whispered, his shoulders shaking in a mixture of laughter and crying. Shaking his head at himself, he tried to pull himself together and be there for her in full, but the long suppression of his feelings had worn out his strength. All he managed was a lopsided, watery smile.
Mac’s voice wasn’t entirely stable either. “Don’t worry, we’ve got all the time in the world,” she answered just as low, kissing a few tears away from his cheeks. “And just in case you were wondering: I love you, too.”
Hearing those words, he captured her lips with his again for a long moment, needing a physical confirmation of what he had longed to hear for so long. Then he broke the contact and drew back slightly so he could just look at her. “Thank you for never giving in.”
“Thank you for never giving up on me,” she replied softly. “Now who owes whom?”
“I guess we’re pretty much even.” He brushed a strand of hair from her cheek, caressing the soft skin he had forever longed to touch. All of a sudden, he felt a heated urge to discover this same softness on her shoulders, on her back, on her legs, everywhere. But he forced himself not to let his desire show too openly. Their relationship was still fragile. Rushing things could turn out fatal in the end.
Yet, Mac spared him the effort to hold back. “If I recall correctly,” she said into the crook of his neck that she had buried her nose in, “We were discussing that there was still enough left of the night for... well... getting acquainted, when Harriet called.”
He chuckled at the memory, running his right hand through her hair. “Yeah...” He sobered. It was obvious what she wanted him to do, but he had to at least warn her. “Do you really think... after all that’s happened... that you’re ready to take that step, Mac?” he asked tenderly, hoping she didn’t hear the anticipation he couldn’t help feeling at her insinuation.
She looked up at him, her eyes as clear and warm as he’d ever seen them, her determination and caring evident. “I’m as ready as I could ever be,” she answered softly. “I already was on New Year’s Eve. But if the past weeks have had any influence at all on my feelings towards you, then they’ve deepened them in a way I’d never have thought possible. Getting so near to each other is mainly a matter of deep trust – and you’ve shown me all over again just how deeply I can trust you, no matter what. Tell me, what more does it take to be ready for that step?” The love inherent in her gaze was almost tangible, when her expression suddenly turned afraid. “Or are you having doubts that you yourself might not be ready yet? You know, you can always tell me...”
He pulled her close again, burying his nose in her hair. “No, I’m ready, if you are. It’s just all a little... overwhelming.”
“Definitely,” she agreed against his chest, chuckling nervously.
“Tell me,” he asked, following a sudden strange notion, “What are you planning on doing until July? So much spare time...”
She looked up again. “Honestly, I have no idea. I just thought going into reserves and returning to active duty such a short time later might seem very weird in my service record. That’s bound to raise unpleasant questions. Half a year seems a decent time to get something else done, make up your mind and return, right? I might just take a post-grad course in international law or something.”
“So you might have a little time to go house-hunting?”
She looked as astonished as he’d expected. “Maybe, but why should I ...”
He placed a quick kiss on her lips to silence her. “I’m not too sure I want to continue this my-place/your-place kind of thing, now that we’re an item. Let’s have ‘our’ place instead. What do you say?”
“Move in together?” she shook her head incredulously. “Flyboy, once you make up your mind you take it all the way, right?”
Hoping she wouldn’t notice just how madly his heart had started to race, he nodded earnestly, his eyes never leaving hers. “I’ve come too damn close to losing you once too often,” he declared sincerely. “I’d be foolish not to draw any consequences this time.” He held out his hand to her, handing her the torn necklace. “I know this is no ring, but I’m handing you my heart, Mac. Marry me?”
‘Radiant’ hardly described the way she smiled at him. Her eyes shining with pure joy, she took the necklace from his hand and slid it into the breast pocket of her shirt. “I’ve come too damn close to losing you to say no,” she answered lovingly.
His joy needed a valve. He lifted her off the ground and held her close, marveling briefly at how light she was for being so tall. “Now, was that ‘Sarah’ or ‘Mac’ speaking?” he inquired, looking up to her, one eyebrow up high.
Finally laughing freely, she slightly smacked him on the back of his head. “Don’t you ever dare playing me off against myself,” she threatened.
“Or else what?” he mocked her, whirling her around and laughing with her, never wanting to leave this emotional all-time high behind.
“You’ll meet my wrath,” she announced, trying to sound menacing but failing miserably as a new fit of laughter began to shake her.
“Whose wrath?” he couldn’t help pushing the topic farther. “Sarah’s? That might be hard on my conscience. Or do you mean Mac’s? Well, that’s sure to be rough on my body. Do I get a vote in that?”
Her grin had turned just a little malicious. “Jerk...” she hissed, giggling as he tickled her. When he stopped, she only fixed her stern gaze to his, the latent grin threatening to break through the earnest mask far too easily. “How about simply ‘mine’?”
He feigned disappointment. “How boring.”
“Just you wait, sailor,” she countered, “You’d better get used to having ‘me’ around 24/7 now, or else you’ll come to know just how tiring a ménage à trois can be.”
“Ménage à trois?” he asked, comprehending just a little too late.
“Okay, make that a ménage à quatre: you, me, Sarah and Mac. How about that?”
He set her down on her feet and raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Dear God, three of your caliber? Are you trying to kill me, Marine? But, you know, I’ll take anything as long as I can have you.”
“Then let’s forget about multiple personalities, okay? I know a place where there’s only room for two right now...” Her voice was velvety and seductive.
“Yeah,” he answered, his words suddenly devoid of any mockery. Only the warmth of his love prevailed when he added, “Our life.”
THE END