Title: Ties That Bind: The Cold Hearted Truth
Author: Mel (e-mail me at [email protected])
Disclaimer: The characters of JAG are the property of David Bellasario, CBS and Paramount and no profit has been made by my utilising them in my story. Everyone else are my creations and belong to me.
Rating: PG-13 for angst and bad language
Summery: Harm discovers his life and his past are not what he thought when certain truths are revealed after an accidental meeting.
Archiving: As long as you ask first, it should be okay.  
_______________________________________________________________________________________
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Washington, DC
1721 EST, April 4th
Harm slouched behind his desk twiddling with some paperclips as he skimmed over yet another file. It had been an exhausting day with the first half spent in court and the rest sitting finishing off overdue reports, and he just wanted to go home.
 
Usually he loved his work and enjoyed arguing in court but these couple of days had been trying for him and he was just desperate for the weekend. He needed time for himself. It was bad enough his commanding officer, Admiral Chedwiggen, was in a seriously pissed-off mood and seemed determined to pile on the work onto him but also his relationship with his girlfriend, Jordan, was not exactly what one would call smooth. He liked Jordan but he wasn't sure if he was ready for the kind of commitment she was wanting from him. Then there were all the problems with Palmer and his psychotic tricks that dredged up his entire trauma over his father. Harm was slowly coming to terms with the death of the father he had searched for since he was five years old but there were days when he still could not believe his dad was gone.
 
The more Harm considered it, the transfer to Pensacola and his dreams of flying sounded so tempting. Perhaps, what he needed was to get away from here. If he went back to flying he would be doing what he had wanted to do since he was a child, the ambition stolen from him after a mis-diagnosis of night-blindness. But there were still so many issues for him to deal with...firstly, could he cope with the hidden guilt of the plane crash, which cost the life of his RIO some years back? Also, he wasn't entirely sure if Mac was wrong, flying might have just be an obsession for him as a way to seem closer to his father. He didn't even know if he could leave JAG; he loved the life it had given him and he wasn't certain he could let it go.
 
All in all, his life was one complex mess.
 
The only thing Harm could count on in his complicated life was his friendship with his partner, Sarah Mackenzie. Mac was his best friend and she knew he was under a lot of stress at the moment. She tried to take some of the strain from him but Harm was aware she was still dealing with the ramifications of her own father's death and it wouldn't be fair to add to her load.
 
He slumped further into his chair and sighed heavily.
 
"Tired, partner?"
 
Startled, he abruptly sat up to see Mac standing against his door, watching him scrupulously. She was always going on about his obsessive habits and his addiction to work; this was probably a chance to catch him in action.
 
"I'm okay, Mac," he said, his voice weary.
 
"Yeah, you look it," Mac retorted, sarcastically.
 
He shrugged sheepishly. "You know how it is."
 
"How about we wrap up for the day and go out for something to eat? You look like you could do with some food and I'm desperate to try that new pizza place in town." When she saw he was uncertain, she added, "We'll even get some of that healthy crap on the pizza."
 
That clenched it. "Well, okay, so long as we have no dead animal on the pizza either."
 
Mac grinned as he tidied up and stood up from his desk then together the two officers went for pizza.
 
************************************************************
Mac’s Residence
Washington DC
2245 EST, April 4th
After sharing a large vegetable pizza, the partners went back to Mac's apartment. As well as being partners in JAG, they were also close friends and it had been ages since they spent any time together as friends. Occasionally, they would go out for a meal or catch a movie but most of the time either one or the other was busy on a case so it was a rare opportunity to relax.
 
Mac enjoyed having Harm over, he was entertaining company and always had a nice story to tell. His own stories from his childhood made her feel included and it touched he would share them with her. She found that his enthusiasm made her seek out the rare funny or exciting moment from her own miserable childhood. She knew guys that could spend day and night discussing work, boring her to tears, but Harm was able to separate his work from his personal life and since she had started working with him at JAG, it was a talent she was learning.
 
"...and to this day Jamie has hated chickens." Harm had just finished telling her about his cousin's impromptu encounter with a chicken, which had her in tears of laughter.
 
"Wow, that's enough to make me hate chickens too...if they weren't so tasty."
 
Harm feigned a stern look then shook his head. He glanced at his watch, surprised at how much time had passed. "It's almost eleven o'clock, I guess I'd better be going." He stood up and graced Mac with a warm smile. "Thanks for tonight, I really needed to get out of the office."
 
Mac returned his smile. "I enjoyed myself too, we'll have to do it again." It was true; since Russia so much had happened in their respective lives that they didn't have to time to just go out and enjoy themselves. That would have to change she determined.
 
Walking him to the door, Harm waved Mac goodbye before heading for the staircase. Strolling down the stairs at a leisurely pace, Harm couldn't help but smile faintly as Mac shut the door. He had been not so much struggling to cope with his workload but more frustrated at the tediousness of it. Most of the time he and Mac were assigned challenging cases which coerced them to think and act, however occasionally they would go through dry spells where there was no much else to do other than paperwork. These past few weeks were an example of such a period. It felt so good to get out of the office and away from the piles of paper stacked on his desk.
 
As he reached the ground floor of the apartment building, Harm was still in a dream world but suddenly he jolted. Uncertain of what caught his attention, he glanced around hesitantly. It was late and he put it down to teenage kids playing pranks. He moved to exit the building when scratching could clearly be heard. There was no denying it.
 
Harm sighed. He was tired but he loved animals and couldn't just walk away if some asshole had locked up a poor dog in the basement. Wondering if he should call Mac, he decided he didn't need her to help him rescue some mutt. Hell, she would probably never let him hear the end of it.
 
Slowly he inched down the flight of stairs leading to the basement and he almost wished he had brought a weapon...or Mac. It was dark on the basement floor, no lighting at all save a flickering bulb that was on its last lease of life. The hallway was silent now and Harm was beginning to think he imagined it.
 
*Just as well I never called on Mac,* he thought. *She would have had a field day seeing me act like a little kid scared of ghosties.*
 
He turned to leave, smiling in amusement at his own childish case of the shivers, when the scratching started up again. There was no denying it this time and, now closer in proximity, he could pinpoint the location; it was coming from behind the huge oak door sealing off the boiler room. Faintly, he could hear slight moans.
 
Regretting he had not brought Mac, her gift for lock-picking a huge asset, he searched around for something to open the door. The key rack by the door was empty but in the janitor's room he found a crowbar. Not skilled in the art of breaking and entering, it took him ten minutes to pry open the door and he blinked in surprise when a young girl, aged no more than nine or ten years old, spilled into his arms sobbing.
 
************************************************************
Mac’s Residence
Washington DC
0112 EST, April 5th
The Molly Ryan case was known to everyone throughout the city of Washington, with every parent tentatively watching for the result of the case so their fears for their own child's safety could be eased and everyone else keeping a look-out for one missing little girl. Ten-year-old Molly Ryan had been abducted on her way to school two weeks ago and no sign of her had been seen since. Her wealthy parents received two ransom notes demanding several thousand dollars for the safe return of their daughter but no other contact was made. There were the kidnappers had panicked, killing the child, and since Molly had not been found, hopes for her return were diminishing by each passing day...until now.
 
Special Agent Ashleigh Kincaid was one of the many agents assigned to the Ryan case. She and her partner were normally assigned to the Violent Crimes Unit but working this case was a favour to their boss, not to mention the Bureau wanted as many experienced agents as possible on the case. It was always difficult when a child was involved so after two weeks of searching for the missing youngster, for dreading the day they might find the dead body of a tiny ten-year-old, it was of great relief to receive the news that little Molly was found.
 
It took less than fifteen minutes for the ambulance to arrive at the apartment building where the girl was found and the paramedics confirmed Molly, though dehydrated and suffering from malnutrition, was going to be alright. They still had the long and strenuous task of interviewing the girl to find out who had been responsible for her kidnapping, not to mention then subsequent search for the perpetrator, but for now Ash's work was to speak with the man who had found Molly's place of imprisonment.
 
Lieutenant Commander Harmon Rabb Junior seemed one of the last decent guys left in the world. He had been the one who found Molly then comforted the youngster until the EMTs arrived, no small feat since the child was severely traumatized. Now he willingly waited in his JAG partner's apartment for the police and FBI to finish their inquiries. All this and he was a lawyer! Most lawyers would have been spitting their rights and the constitution at being questioned this late in the night.
 
"Will the girl be okay?" Rabb asked, concerned.
 
"Yes, she'll be kept in hospital for a few days but she'll be fine physically."
 
Rabb smiled. "That's good...Do you have any idea who took her?"
 
His partner, Major Mackenzie, scowled slightly at his question. "Harm..." she said in warning.
 
Shrugging, Rabb just said, "I was only asking."
 
Mackenzie didn't seem very convinced. She eyed her partner for a moment before saying, "Good, just don't go getting any ideas about becoming involved in any more cases like the Lewis one."
 
Ash remembered where she heard Rabb's name before; he was the Naval officer in charge of the Annie and Darlin Lewis case. This man appeared to have a knack for finding abandoned and lost little kids. One of her friends from college told her how Rabb refused to let the case rest until he knew the identity of Annie's murderer and that Annie's twin sister, Darlin, would be safe.
 
Apparently, Mackenzie wasn't thrilled with the idea of Rabb becoming involved in another emotionally burdensome case. Ash couldn't blame her. The Lewis case was brutal but what made it all the more tragic was the fact the victim was just a small child. Cases involving children and abuse were always the worst and investigators did tend to become overly obsessed in them. Still, it was good to know that there was someone out there was looking out for Darlin and Annie; too many kids were often left forgotten in this world.
 
"We do have a couple of suspects but now we have found Molly, we can pursue a more intense investigation into her captor. So, you didn't see anyone near the room Molly was being held in, sir?" Ash asked, bringing their focus back to the Ryan abduction.
 
"No, there was no-one."
 
Ash stood up, shaking hands with both officers. "Well, thank you for your time and patience. I'll leave you to it. If I think of anything else, I'll be in touch."
 
Rabb nodded. "Okay, Agent Kincaid, just find whoever took that little girl."
 
Smiling, Ash couldn't help but think how refreshing it was to finally meet a lawyer who actually *cared* about someone else other than Number One. "That's our jobs, Commander, and don't worry- we'll find that piece of scum who did this."
 
Yawning, Rabb turned to his partner. "I think I'd better be going too, Mac. I'm kinda tired and we have the Roland's disposition tomorrow morning."
 
Mackenzie smiled at him, patting his arm. "Well, just spend too much time tonight *thinking*."
 
"Who, me?" replied Rabb. "See you in court tomorrow, bright and early." Mackenzie waved Rabb and Ash off and when the door was shut behind them, the Naval lawyer glanced sideways at her, one eye still on the door. "Do you think you'll find Molly's abductor then?"
 
Ash raised an eyebrow. "I thought your partner told you not to think about this."
 
"How did you know she meant that?" Rabb asked, so wide-eyed in astonishment the FBI agent had to choke back giggles.
 
"I have an obsessive partner too, y'know. I know all the symptoms."
 
"I'm not obsessive," Harm said a little indignantly. "I'm just concerned...I don't like to see kids get hurt."
 
"Well, in defense of your partner who isn't here to rein you, I won't answer any questions about the case. I do assure you we *will* find the kidnapper though. Now it's good that you're concerned, America always needs more concerned citizens, but don't worry too much about this. We're the FBI, it's our job to worry."
 
"You sound just like Mac."
 
There was a slight pout to his features but there was mild amusement in his eyes. Commander Rabb was good-looking, and Ash couldn't help but wonder if there was more to his relationship/partnership to Major Mackenzie than either one was letting on. From her own dealings with her military father, the Navy frowned on romantic affiliations between the ranks much like the Bureau did, nonetheless when did that ever stop anyone? Still, if Rabb and Mackenzie's partnership was nothing more than a partnership, Ash was more than willing to open new 'ties' between Navy and FBI members.
 
She sighed inwardly at her train of thought. God, this type of thinking showed how dull her own life had been lately. Her partner in the Bureau was happily married, her assistant director was double her age and the last time she went out on anything remotely like a date was taking her four-year-old nephew to see 'Barney' at the movies.
 
"How is everything going, Kincaid?"
 
Her reverie was shattered when they bumped into the Assistant Director at the building entrance. AD Peter Carter was a veteran agent who had worked in the Serial Killer and Child Abduction Unit for close to thirty-five years both as a special agent in his younger days and as time went on, as the AD of the department. The Bureau was rather like a family business for him with his younger brother, Jack, the AD of the Organised Crimes section not to mention her own partner Jeff Carter was his nephew- Jack's eldest son. Needless to say, with three Carters' working in the Bureau things could get a little confusing, though Jack Carter was based in Baltimore.
 
Peter Carter was dedicated to the Bureau and to every case that came his way so it came as no surprise that he was out at such a late hour to follow up a lead. No doubt he would be heading to the office afterwards since despite the girl being found, there still was a whole investigation to complete.
 
"It's good, sir." She turned to Rabb. "Commander Rabb, this is Assistant Director Peter Carter. Sir, this is the man who found the girl."
 
Carter firmly shook Rabb's hand. "Well done, son."
 
Even as he spoke, there was something in his voice that struck Ash as strange. The way he was staring at Rabb through hooded eyes, his voice taking on the suspicious tone it took when he was interviewing suspects. Ash had worked under Carter long enough to know these characteristics. Did he actually *think* that *Rabb* was the kidnapper?
 
"Your name is Rabb?" Carter asked, nonchalantly.
 
"That's right," Rabb answered. "Harmon Rabb Junior."
 
"Junior?"
 
"Yes, sir." Now Rabb was scowling, aware something was amiss. "Is there a problem, sir?"
 
"What is your mother's name, son?"
 
Rabb's blue eyes slit back dubiously. "What has that got to do with anything? My mother has no involvement with this case and I don't have to tell you anything." Ash winced as the Navy officer slipped into 'lawyer mode'. "And since you have no other business with me, I'm going home. You have my number if you have any other queries regarding Molly."
 
With that, he stalked off. When Rabb had sped off in his SUV, Ash glared at the AD wanting to shout at him for his odd behaviour but she kept her tirade to herself, quickly remembering this was her superior and not her partner. And even Rabb gone, Carter behaved as if he was in a trance. She had never seen him act like this before, normally he was the epitome of decorum.
 
"Sir, what's wrong?"
 
"Old ghosts, kid..." he murmured in response, running his hand through his greying hair.
 
"Sir...?"
 
Carter blinked into reality. "Come on, Kincaid, lets get back to the office and give that nephew of mine a hand."
 
As she walked her AD to their car, Ash could see in his eyes Carter was still pre-occupied. With what, she didn't have a clue. Despite hoping he would just lay off Rabb, she had a feeling he wasn't through with the Navy officer for some reason.
 
************************************************************
Harm's Residence
Washington, DC
2218 EST, April 9th
It had been a tough day. Harm had spent most of the morning in court, defending a young ensign claim paternity alimony from some pompous ass of a businessman. As much as he would have like to string the businessman up, he had little choice but to act to civilly and to the best of his ability to try to help the timid ensign bring the young punk to justice. Nothing angered Harm more than men- or women- that tried to escape their parental duties and responsibilities. Luckily, he won the lawsuit, forcing Mister Rich-Daddy's-Boy to pay up, but still it was a trying case battling against some hotshot lawyer who was under the impression the law revolved around money, bribery and greed.
 
If that was not all, the FBI requested him to come down for a formal statement so Harm spent his lunch hour stuck in some office in the J. Edgar Hoover building answering the same questions he had answered five nights ago. Not that he minded assisting in such a case, but he was more for action not sitting around. By the time Harm returned to the JAG office, a pile of files was waiting for him.
 
Now he was just ready to collapse.
 
Fixing himself a sandwich, Harm's eyes wandered to the window. Glancing outside, he was surprised to see an unfamiliar grey Ford Taurus parked in the parking lot below. Normally there were only two or three cars parked there, all of which belonging to the few lodgers of his building. From his window, Harm could just make out a figure sitting in the car. Strange, but he couldn't be bothered with it. Trudging over to the living room section of his apartment, he went to eat his sandwich while finishing off the crime book he had started some weeks ago.
 
Half an hour later, he decided to turn in for the night. The book was veering into the realms of boredom and his mind was not really focused on it anyway. It had been a long day and he deserved the rest. As he was pouring himself a glass of juice in the kitchen, he noticed the Taurus was still parked out front. Only a few months ago, Harm would have never had any luck seeing anything in the dark but since his laser surgery on his eyes to correct his misdiagnosed night-blindness he was amazed at the clarity he could pick up on in the darkness. But today he wondered if ignorance and blindness was safer when he saw that the figure in the car was still there. He was worried now; his area of town, though not over-run by thugs, nevertheless carried the dangers of burglaries and assaults as did any other neighbourhood.
 
Just as he was considering the idea of calling the police, a light flickered in the car. Harm couldn't make out the facial features of the person inside the car but he could see enough to know the person was staring right at him. Memories of Palmer's taunting pervaded his mind.
 
His hand moved for the cellphone he was carrying in his back pocket however before his hand could even pull out the phone, the Taurus revved up and pulled away quickly. Harm waited a full five minutes to ensure it didn't return before tentatively double checking the locks of his window and shutting the blinds. He was sure the car was probably just some kid looking for a empty house to break into but still Harm took out the semi-automatic he kept in a lock-box in his desk and perched it on his bedside cabinet within easy reach of his bed. It was always best to be prepared- life was too full of surprises to be otherwise.
 
************************************************************
The Mall
Washington, DC
1334 EST, April 17th
Hidden by the shadows, the greying man watched the young man and woman talking as they walked along the pathway. It was a nice day with the sun blazing down so it not surprising they would be out soaking in the rays after a court case.  The kid looked good in his white uniform; he certainly was a handsome boy just like he always had been.  He seemed happy with his lady-friend whom the greying man knew to be his work partner. He didn't exactly approve of inter-office relationships but could be worse. The pair did look cute together.
 
The greying man smiled. It felt so good to be talking about the boy again without a pang of loss touching his heart. But now things were changing. It had been some time since he had last seen the boy but if all went to plan then he could be in their lives in a matter of a few weeks.
 
************************************************************
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Washington, DC
1316 EST, April 27th
Eight days after Molly Ryan was found, her abductor was caught and arrested. It turned out the caretaker at the girl's elementary school had a sick interest in little girls and was hoping to make a quick buck from the Molly's well-to-do parents. Luckily he was scared off at the huge public appeal when he kidnapped Molly leading him abandoned the ten-year-old before he had time to act out his twisted fantasies.
 
For her part, Mac was pleased that Molly's abductor had been found. It was one less obsession Harm had to deal with. He always had a weak spot when it came to helping little kids and knowing him, if the FBI had not been so fast on the case, he would have found some way to help. Lord knows, he couldn't leave it alone and just deal with the Lewis murder without finding more to add to his burden.
 
Harm had been in a good mood since the Ryan case was resolved and today's victory in court only served to lighten his normally sober disposition. Over the last few months, after returning from Russia, Harm had been quieter than usual and, at times, distant with her. Mac knew he had been dreaming of a reunion with his father since he was five years old and perhaps, because she had been witness to those dreams being dashed, he tried to cut himself off from her.
 
But finally he was bouncing back and as he did, Mac felt their partnership- and friendship- reaffirming.
 
"Hey, Mac, want to go see that Nicolas Cage film tomorrow?" Harm asked, as they made themselves coffee.
 
"Sure, but why don't you take Jordan?" Not that she wasn't complaining, but Mac always found it strange that he never seemed to do as many activities with his current girlfriend Jordan as he did with Annie.
 
Harm rolled his eyes. "Oh, it has too much 'gore' for her," he explained. "She only likes the mushy chicks films, you know the type of movie I watch if I want to cure insomnia."
 
"She might like it, you never know."
 
"I doubt it, last time we went to see something like that she moaned. I guess once a shrink, always a shrink. Anyway, I promised myself that I wouldn't-"
 
He was cut off when PO Tiner stuck his head around the door. "Sir, Admiral Chedwiggen is asking to see you in his office."
 
Harm nodded and Mac watched as he followed Tiner to their superior's office. She wanted to finish this trail of conversation with him while the moment was right. Harm hardly ever talked about Jordan, hell he even went to first her if he was having a problem. Sometimes she wondered if their chalk-and-cheese personalities had anything to do with that. Harm liked adventure and excitement whereas Jordan seemed to enjoy the quieter side to life. Mac couldn't even imagine the psychiatrist surviving the hell they went through in Russia or Iran.
 
What Jordan had said that night at the bar was still etched into Mac's mind- that Harm was only hers until Mac decided she wanted him. She often found herself pondering over the truth of that statement. Jordan probably wasn't exactly sober when she said that, but still...If she was right- and who better to know than a psychiatrist- then now was no better time to move their friendship further. Harm was no longer completely occupied by his MIA father, his life now relatively stable for a serious relationship. Albeit he was still grieving for the fact his father was dead, he had a sense of completion that he didn't have before.
 
Yes, Mac would certainly give thought to approaching him about their friendship/relationship. They were both without major worries and it would be a perfect time to test unknown waters so to speak.
 
************************************************************
"Commander, sit down."
 
There were times when Admiral AJ Chedwiggen could be like a surrogate father to the young officers under his command, and then there was other times- like now- when a trip to his office was like a schoolboy trip to the dreaded principal's office. The older man's lips were pursed and he seemed non-too-happy as Harm gingerly took a seat opposite him, struggling to control the urge to fidget like a little kid.
 
"Sir, I heard you wanted to see me."
 
"Yes...You know, being in the position of senior officer, I try to advise my people whenever they get into trouble. I lend support when they need it. You do know that, don't you, Commander?"
 
"Yes, sir."
 
"Good, and you know that you can come to me if you ever have problems."
 
"Yes, sir." Harm scowled inwardly. The Admiral sounded much akin to a father giving his son the 'facts of life' speech. It was disconcerting.
 
"Do you have any problems, Rabb?"
 
"No, sir..." Harm sighed; he was tired of this game. "*What* is going on, Admiral? Have I done something that I should know about...?"
 
"Commander, it seems the FBI have taken quite an interest in you," Chedwiggen said, a frown furrowing his brow. "They've requested your file and wanted to know everything about you. Is there something I should know about?""
 
It was Harm's turn to frown. "No...The FBI? But I haven't done anything, the last time I even dealt with the FBI was in a amicable situation. I didn't do anything to annoy them, sir."
 
Harm admitted he did have a tendency to cause friction between bureaucrats, he was never one for diplomatic niceties when he had a job to do, but he never had much problem when it came to the FBI. Sure, there were the usual disagreements about jurisdiction that always cropped up when military and civilian law enforcement met but that almost certainly cleared up quickly. So, why the hell would they feel the need to check up on him? Besides, it was rare for a civilian law enforcement department to mess with military officers unless that officer was a suspect in a crime.
 
"What did they want to know, Admiral?"
 
"Everything, though I have to admit, I did notice most of the information they were interested in acquiring seemed to be personal data: your birth date, where you grew up, your parents' names, what they did..."
 
The Admiral carried on listing the details that so interested the FBI but Harm's mind drifted elsewhere. Parents' names? What was it that FBI Assistant Director wanted to know- his mother's name? Even later on that night he wondered why that FBI agent was so interested in his mother's name, which wasn't exactly a standard question for the FBI to ask a suspect. God, what was going on here?!
 
"Sir," Harm said, slowly, "can I ask the name of the FBI agent who was asking about me?"
 
"Yes, I think he mentioned it." Chedwiggen shuffled through some on the paper on his desk until he found what he was looking for. "Yes, here it is- an Assistant Director Peter Carter. Very high up..." He noticed Harm's scowl. "Do you know him, Rabb?"
 
"He was the one heading the investigation into the Molly Ryan case, I met him once on the night I found the girl. I did speak with the FBI again a couple of days later but it wasn't with him...He did seem to be interested in me that night I met him though, he asked about my mom's name."
 
"Your mother? What does she have to do with anything?"
 
"I don't know, that was what I was wondering too..."
 
Harm's mind drifted back to that night a fortnight ago when he saw that car parked outside his apartment building. A Ford Taurus...from all his experiences with the Bureau he remembered almost every agent seemed to drive a Taurus. They probably had a deal with Ford.
 
If that was true, if that was a federal car he saw then could that mean AD Carter had a...fixation with him?
 
He fidgeted at he pondered over this. "Sir, I think..." He sighed, reddening a little in mortification. "I think that AD Carter has...an interest in me. I believe he had been following me and though I don't have any solid proof, I am starting to be concerned for this behaviour. What do you think I should do, Admiral?"
 
The fact that he had asked for help was enough for Chedwiggen to know how at a loss he really was in this situation. Harm hardly ever sought help unless he was truly in trouble, even in his cases he preferred to go it alone. He had been that way since he was a boy; losing a father at a very early age could do that to a kid. As a child, he didn't want to burden his mother with his problems when she already had enough on her plate so he learnt to cope on his own. But now that some FBI agent was apparently stalking him, Harm knew he needed help.
 
For his part, Chedwiggen was at a slight disadvantage. Oh, he was certainly familiar with stalkers harassing his people: just last year Major Mackenzie was the victim of a maniac and during his time in the SEALs a young man under his command found himself the target of the much unwanted attention of a very delusional, very determined woman. But never in all his years had he heard of an FBI agent stalking a young Navy officer. From Peter Carter's file, Chedwiggen learned the man married with a daughter- for all intents and purposes, he appeared to be heterosexual, so why the hell did he seem so interested in Rabb?
 
Chedwiggen looked down then gazed back up at his officer. "Well, first things first, I suggest we have a talk with Carter. See what's going on in his mind."
 
Personally, though, Chedwiggen had little doubt this Carter guy had probably just investigated one too many psychopaths and he had fallen over the edge. They would invite Carter to the base and talk to him, then once the man was committed for stalking a military officer, life for them all would go back to normal.
 
************************************************************
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Washington, DC
1423 EST, April 29th
Harm's life was far from perfect; he had lost his father when he was five and grown up not knowing where he was, he obsessively studied so he could joined the Navy, his love of flying was cut short when he was mis-diagnosed with nightblindness and he had watched numerous friends die far too young. But still, he weathered out the turbulence in his life because there were always certain things that remained constant, that he was sure about, that he knew could never be refuted...
 
Until today, when the one certainty he had counted on for as long as he could remember came tumbling down on him bringing with it his whole existence.
 
The afternoon had started out innocuously enough, though puzzling. Admiral Chedwiggen had requested that AD Carter meet with them to discuss his sudden interest in Harm. The previous night Harm had told Mac what was happening and the two of them laughed at the thought of a FBI stalking someone. It seemed so ridiculous at the time...if they only knew the truth they sure as hell wouldn't have been laughing, that much was certain.
 
Harm had been in court that morning and returned to the office after lunch only to be summoned to Admiral Chedwiggen's office. Mac tossed him an encouraging smile that told him his date with the FBI was here.
 
When Harm entered Chedwiggen's office, the admiral was sitting behind his desk with a slightly annoyed expression creasing across his face. Obviously, the Fed hadn't explained anything and was waiting for Harm to show up- being out of the circle often enraged Chedwiggen, the force of his anger for such a deed was something Webb could relate to.
 
As for the FBI agent himself, he was sitting opposite Chedwiggen in a rather agitated manner, his fingers tapping the chair rests and his body fidgeting. The moment Harm entered the room, the Fed spun around to face him. Two things surprised Harm about the older man; firstly, this was not the man who was harassing Harm though there were physical similarities between the two and secondly, the man actually paled when he set eyes on Harm. Very odd.
 
"Commander Rabb, this is Assistant Director Jack Carter," Chedwiggen introduced.
 
Harm frowned. "Eh...you aren't the man I met..."
 
Carter- *this* Carter- smiled. "No, the man you met was my brother, Peter. He's based here in DC while I'm based in Baltimore. He was the one heading the Ryan case."
 
Now Harm was at a loss, and judging from his superior's frown he was not the only one. "No offence, sir, but why are *you* here? What has this got to do with you?"
 
"Your Admiral here tells me that you suspect my brother has been...stalking you." Carter grinned at this. Harm nodded in agreement. "Well, you were right." Simultaneously, Harm and Chedwiggen's jaws' dropped to the floor. "You see he had a reason, a very good reason for taking such an interest in you, son."
 
"And that would be...?" nudged Harm.
 
Carter pulled out a file from his jacket and placed it on the desk. "Thirty-two years ago, my ex-wife- Karen- received some fairly threatening calls related to my work in the FBI. At first it was nothing, it just unnerved her obviously but I reassured it was okay. Then one day, when she was out shopping she was..." The Fed sighed, closing his eyes against the memory. "She was nearly raped by some thugs working for a perp I was investigating...She blamed me, my work, and maybe she was right...Anyway, the following week she took off taking with her our youngest son. He was just a baby, our little Ben."
 
It was a tragic story but Harm really didn't see what this had to do with him. "I'm sorry for your loss, sir, but what has this got to do with your brother stalking me?"
 
Carter's gaze drifted away from Harm, away from the present to the past. "You have to understand, in those days things were different; men had little leverage over their kids when it came to the courts, not to mention Karen's family were very rich and influential people. She was able to get full custody of Ben though luckily she wasn't able to get our older two children since she had left them behind with me and I wouldn't let her see then without supervision...My paternal rights were annulled, worth nothing when it came to Ben, so she was allowed to take off with the baby and not tell me where she was going. By the time  I located her she had found she couldn't cope with raising a baby on her own while dealing with her near-rape so she had Ben adopted."
 
Poor guy, this story went to show not even the FBI were safe from having their kids stolen. However, Harm was still at a loss here as to why this man was telling him a story that so obviously was hard to share. He truly felt for this man, maybe losing his son somehow tied in with the Ryan case thus throwing his brother over the edge. Yes, that had to be it.
 
"I haven't see my baby in all those thirty-two years...until now." A feeling of sickly dread started to fill Harm. "You see, son, we always knew the names of Ben's adoptive parents, the woman was Karen's sister. Anyway, they were the childless. They were desperate for a child and back then they didn't have all that new-fangeled IVF and all. As you can imagine, the adoption lists were huge and you couldn't go off to China or Vietnam to get a child." Carter leafed out a picture of a smiling infant in a sailor suit. "This is my son, Ben. We last saw him when he was two years old but my former sister-in-law did send a few photos of him as he grew up. This is one when he was four, with his adoptive parents."
 
Harm's chest tightened and the blood from his handsome face drained when Carter held out an enlarged photograph of a five-year-old Harmon Rabb Junior standing happily between his adoring mother, Patricia, and his proud father, Harmon Senior. At the bottom, on the white-rimmed edge, it was dated November 1968 with the words 'Benjamin, age 4' scrawled in blue ink.
 
Oh God...This couldn't be happening...
 
He didn't realise he was back-pedalling from the office until Chedwiggen called his name, startling him to look up to his superior. His breathing was harsh and he felt faint, all he wanted to do was get out of here. Chedwiggen quickly moved from behind his desk to Harm. The older officer put a firm hand on the younger man for both comfort and to stop him from running away from this.
 
"Do you have any proof about this, Carter?" Chedwiggen demanded, secretly praying this was just a misunderstanding for Harm's sake. "You could have gotten that picture from anywhere. Do you have any real evidence Rabb is...is your son?" He choked on the last words.
 
Carter pulled out a birth certificate from the files. "This is Ben's, I've kept it in the hopes I could give it back to him."
 
The paper clearly stated the birth of one Benjamin Joseph Carter, born on June 31st 1964 to a Jack and Karen Carter in Georgetown Medical Centre. The birth certificate looked authentic to both Harm and Chedwiggen but even then, this Benjamin Carter was more than eight months younger than Harm. Still, that proved nothing more than Carter did have a child called Ben.
 
From their stares, Carter could see they were not swayed so he produced another set of papers from his file...adoption papers. Harm shut his eyes to isolate from the world the moment he read the document. The adoption papers also appeared authentic and proclaimed the transfer of custody of Benjamin Joseph Carter to Harmon and Patricia Rabb on October 25th 1966. His birthday, or what he thought was his birthday. The adoption had the consent of Ben's mother, Karen Carter with no mention of the father, and was handled and signed by Steven Kessler- a lawyer Harm knew was a close friend to his mother...or the woman he previously thought was his mother.
 
He didn't know anything anymore. Hell, he didn't even know his own goddamn name. Was he Harmon Rabb Junior or Benjamin Joseph Carter?!
 
"But my birth certificate..." muttered Harm.
 
Carter sighed. "Forgery. I know eight-year-old kids that can do you a nice set of credentials for a few dollars. It's not uncommon for parents to obtain a forged birth certificate for their adopted child." He moved closer to Harm but the younger man stepped back, avoiding contact. "Look, son-"
 
"Don't call me that!"
 
"Okay, Ben-"
 
"No!"
 
"Harmon...? Harmon, you're my son, you were stolen from me when you were just two years old. I don't expect you to remember me but I am your father and I want to get to know you again as my son. You don't how I felt when my brother told me he met Harmon Rabb Junior, to know that my child was so close..."
 
Harm was shaking his head; he didn't want to hear this. He just wanted to get back to his normal life, to the life when Tricia and Harmon Senior were his parents. It wasn't a perfect life but at least he knew where he stood.
 
"You have a brother and a sister- Jeff and Sammi. They're so desperate to meet you, you've grown quite a lot since they last saw you. Please, Harmon, give us a chance."
 
Pulling away from Chedwiggen, Harm backed towards the door. "I have to go. I can't be here."
 
With that he stalked out of the room leaving a stunned admiral and a heartbroken father in his tracks. Chedwiggen sighed. He couldn't blame Rabb from his lack of discretion, hell the kid's whole life was crashing down around him.
 
He turned to Jack Carter. "Give him time, he needs to come to terms with this."
 
"I know..." mumbled the federal agent. "I didn't expect this to be easy but I didn't think it would be so hard either. I'm his father and he was taken from me. Is it so wrong for me to want him back? He *is* my son."
 
"Yes, but he's been *their* son for thirty-two years. That's a long time."
 
"Perhaps this was not a good idea," Carter said, recollecting his file and hugging to him like it was a baby- a lost baby boy. "I should have just left things be."
 
"And let him live a lie? I know Rabb...your son, and he would never want that. He's a good kid, a helluva officer. He needs time to deal with this, to find out the truth for himself but don't give up." Chedwiggen fingered the card Carter had given him before, at the beginning of the meeting. "I'll keep this, someone may want to use it soon."
 
Carter smiled, a beam that was so familiar on Harm's face, his blue eyes as blue and as intelligent as Rabb's. God, they really were father and son. Chedwiggen had never dealt with a situation quite like this but he was determined to be there for his young officer, who in some ways was almost like his son. He would be there for Harm to see how alike he was to his real father and he would be there for Harm to take that business card.
 
************************************************************
Outside JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Washington, DC
1648 EST, April 29th
In a space of a measly half-an-hour Harm's entire life had been shot to bits; not a single shred of it the truth, not a single detail was what he knew. He hadn't been born in California like he had been led to believe by his false-parents; Washington DC was his actual birth town. His name wasn't Harmon Rabb Junior in honour of his beloved 'father' but Benjamin Joseph Carter for God knew what reason. Hell, he wasn't even thirty-five years old; he was in fact thirty-four. He had spent his whole goddamn life doing things a year before he should have. He had been cheated out of eight months of his childhood.
 
Harm sat in his SUV, drumming his fingers on his steering wheel after driving aimlessly through the streets of DC. Now he just sat parked in the parking lot of the JAG Headquarters contemplating his fabricated life. The thought of driving his car off a cliff was very appealing to him at that very moment but knowing his luck he probably just end up with a concussion and a wrecked car.
 
God, why was life so crap?!
 
His head fell to rest on the steering wheel as he choked back tears. All Harm had asked out of life was a set of parents who cared for him, a good career and a family of his own. Was that too much for him to ask? Obviously, it was since Fate had gone a huge damn way to ruin it...
 
"Sitting around is not going to help anything, Commander."
 
Harm sat up to find Admiral Chedwiggen opening the door and stepping in to sit his the front passenger seat of the SUV. As much as he appreciated his superior's concern, he just wanted to be left in peace for a while. His scowl for that wish was evidently lost on Chedwiggen for the older man settled himself in the seat and gazed at Harm. Apparently, he was here for the long haul.
 
"Sir...no offence, but I really don't want company."
 
"Rabb, I'm not going to leave you alone so you can run this car off a cliff."
 
Now he was a mind reader. Great. Everyone seemed to know more about him than *him*.
 
"Sir, I'm fine."
 
"That's bullshit and you know it, Rabb."
 
Harm blinked at Chedwiggen's rare use of profanity. Damn, today *really* was the day for new discoveries.
 
Chedwiggen sighed, twisting in his chair to face Harm. "Son..." He bit his lip at using the 'forbidden' word. "Harm, I don't pretend to know what you're feeling. Your life has been turned upside down in a way no-one's should, this has to be the most difficult thing you have ever faced in your life including the crash and discovering your father...your adoptive father was dead. At least in those instances you know certain truths you could always fall back on."
 
"Now I don't even know my own name," muttered Harm, looking away. "Even my age is not what I thought."
 
The Admiral cracked a grin. "Hey, be grateful, some people would kill to know they were younger than they thought." Harm smiled slightly at that. "You are Harmon Rabb Junior, that's what you were raised and that's who you will always be."
 
"I really don't know anymore."
 
"Well, you do have some things that won't change; you are a good Navy officer, you are a good lawyer and you have good friends both here and outwith JAG...Look, what I am about to say is on the behalf of your father, your real father. As a father myself, I know what its like to know you've lost out on your child's early years, times that can never be re-lived. I missed so many things when it came to Francesca. My daughter's her first word, her first day at school, tucking her in at night, comforting her when she was hurt or sick. Those are things I'll never get back. I never saw my daughter as growing up and I will never get those years back."
 
"That was different," Harm defended. "You...you..." He trailed off, unsure of why Chedwiggen's situation was different.
 
Chedwiggen just smiled. "Harm, I voluntarily gave up custody of Francesca to Victor, I voluntarily left her in Italy and had little contact with her until recently. I never had to spend her childhood- and my life- worrying about where she was, if she was safe. I may not have had much contact with her when she was a little girl but I did know she was fine and happy. I admit now I think back to what I missed, but when Fran was growing up I wasn't worried about where she was or how she was doing. Think about Jack Carter, Harm. He *did* want to be with his son but all he knew was that his child was out there somewhere being raised by strangers. Every time he saw a little boy, he must have thought of his own child. He knew he was missing his son growing up and it must have torn him apart. I know you're angry and you have every right to be, but are you angry for the right reasons at the right people?"
 
No wonder the man was Judge Advocate General; he could still argue a case.
 
Their eyes met- Harm's bewildered blue and Chedwiggen's wise grey. "What should I do?" Harm whispered, like a confused little boy.
 
The Admiral set two airline tickets on the dashboard. "Go to your mother, you need to hear the truth from her mouth before you can move on and when you're ready I'll give you this." He held up a business card emblazoned with the FBI seal and the name, Assistant Director Jack C. Carter.
 
Harm's gaze fell from the card to the air tickets. "Two, sir?"
 
"I was thinking about sending a certain Marine out on a small insubordination case in California so you two can fly out together." He smiled paternally at him. "She was there for you in Russia, Harm, let her in now. You can't do this alone and since your mother has a conflict of interest in this, you need an outside support."
 
Fingering the tickets, he suddenly reaching a decision he pulled out his cellphone and dialled Speed Dial Three- his mother. He received her answering machine. "Hi, mom. It's Harm here. I gotta case in California so I thought I'd come see you. Be there tomorrow. Bye." Chedwiggen raised an eyebrow at his lie and Harm couldn't resist but adding bitterly, "She's lied to *me* all my life, I don't think one little lie from me will hurt her now."
 
************************************************************
Tricia and Frank Burnett's Residence
La Jolla, California
1401 EST, April 30th
The flight to California was not exactly an experience Mac would want to repeat any time soon. Harm had been distant and moody with not only her but also the over-attentive flight attendants on the plane. He had cut-off any attempts by her to talk about anything, spending the whole five-hour flight staring blankly out the window. The Admiral had delicately informed her of Harm's discovery so she was prepared for any odd behaviour from her partner. It was more than understandable.
 
Ever since Mac met Harm, he had always been devoted to his MIA father and his beloved mother. She had never heard him say a bad word against them, which was more than she could say about her own feelings towards her parents. Mac had been ready for a reaction from Harm to the news regarding his parentage, she actually expected something, but still she had never seen him so despondent in all the years she had known him. It was very worrying.
 
"We're nearly there, Harm."
 
Not trusting Harm's capacity to drive, Mac had taken the wheel of the rented SUV using the directions and a map to drive to Tricia and Frank Burnett's home. It had been about an hour from the airport to the house and in that time, Harm was silent. However, from sideways glances to him Mac could see his eyes burning. She was secretly grateful his wrath was not wrought on her and she did not envy his mother at all. She would not want to be in Patricia Rabb-Burnett's shoes when Harm decided to have his 'heart-to-heart'.
 
When they finally drew up the long driveway to the large ten-bedroomed mansion that was the home to Tricia and Frank Burnett, it was going on late afternoon and both officers were exhausted both physically and mentally. As they were about to open their respective car doors, Harm seemed to draw in a deep breath and gather himself up. Before he could step out of the SUV, Mac put an hand on his shoulder and he turned to her.
 
"You'll get through this, Harm," she reassured.
 
Harm sighed. "I...I'm not sure I will, Mac."
 
"Harm, you're one of the strongest people I know."
 
"Well, sometimes even the strong fall."
 
"If you do then I'll be there to help you up again. You were there for me when I went through that crap with Chris and then my father and I'm going to be here for you...That's what partners are for, huh?"
 
He gave her a faint smile. "I hope you know what you're letting yourself in for then, partner."
 
"I'm a Marine, I always know what I'm getting into..." Flitting images of Dalton and Chris passed through her memory, and she amended, "almost always."
 
As Mac walked to the front door, she turned to see Harm trailing behind getting slower and slower. If she didn't know any better she would have guessed he was getting ready to take off. Just as she was about to call on him to hurry, the door flung open and a middle-aged, blond woman appeared. She smiled widely and moved to pulled Harm into her embrace.
 
"Harm, it's so good to see you," the woman, who must have been Patricia Rabb-Burnett, said, still holding her less than enthusiastic son. She didn't seem to notice Harm's lack of emotion, too caught up in seeing her 'son' for the first time in months. "I'm so glad you came."
 
"Yeah, Mom," muttered Harm. "Me too."
 
Harm's mother smiled at Mac, finally releasing Harm from her hold. "So, you must be Harm's partner, Mac, is it?"
 
"Yes, ma'am."
 
The older woman smiled, shaking Mac's hand firmly. "Oh, call me 'Tricia', we don't stand on ceremony here." She looked adoringly at Harm. "My son has told me all about you."
 
"All good things, I hope," Mac said, casting a glance at Harm who shrugged boyishly as if to say 'You know moms'.
 
Tricia laughed. "Oh yes, honey."
 
To Mac, this all appeared so normal, so homely and nice. Tricia Burnett was the kind of woman she dreamed of to have as her own mother to replace the neglectful, selfish woman who she had the misfortune to be born to. Deena Mackenzie was never really one to shower her only daughter with praise nor had she been so open with her daughter's friends. Mac missed doing all the wonderful 'mom' things like baking cookies and going for walks that Harm no doubt enjoyed. Despite the fact Harm was now an adult, the devotion Tricia felt towards her son had not dissipated over the years...And that was what made it so hard to believe Tricia Burnett may have stolen Harm from the arms of his biological father.
 
"Where's Frank?" Harm asked.
 
"He had a meeting in San Francisco, hone, he'll be home in a few days probably so it's just up to us girls to keep an eye on my little baby boy."
 
Harm blushed, mortified at his mother's teasing. "Mom!" he exclaimed.
 
"Relax, Harm," Tricia said. She winked at Mac. "He's always been so easy to wind up, ever since he was a little boy."
 
Harm, caught up in the moment of fleeting glee at seeing his mother, suddenly withdrew from all the chit-chat forcing Mac to remember the true reason why they were really in California. "Well, Mom, we're pretty tired," he said in a cool tone.
 
Apparently, Tricia picked up on this, frowning slightly, but she seemed to trust Harm enough. "Of course, honey. I'll show you and Mac to your rooms."
 
"Good, we'll talk after."
 
The walk to their bedrooms in the Burnett mansion was practically silent. Tricia tried to engage Harm in chatter but he was not interested so Mac jumped in so the older woman wouldn't feel so worried. Mac knew Tricia was aware the two JAG officers were not really here for on official business, there was something more serious bothering Harm but she did not comment on her revelations nor did she question Mac. The Marine was grateful; this was a family problem, she could not explain on Harm's behalf, she just had to be there for her partner after the inevitable crunch.
 
Still, after meeting his 'mother', it almost made Mac want to cry to think of the mother-and-son relationship that was about to be blown apart. She could only pray Harm had enough strength to forgive Tricia and move on from this. This woman may not have been his real mother, she may not have honourably taken custody of Harm, but she was a hell of a better parent than Deena Mackenzie was to her own biological daughter.
 
************************************************************
Tricia and Frank Burnett's Residence
La Jolla, California
2219 EST, April 30th
There was always a bond between mother and child; no matter how old one's child was or how far away, a mother always knew if her child was in trouble. Since Harm had arrived at the house six hours ago, Tricia's 'mother radar' had been over-active. She had never seen the boy so skittish in front of her, not even in the days after Harmon Senior was proclaimed MIA.
 
From the time he had arrived, he had stayed locked in his room not even coming out for something to eat. She had hear him whispering quietly with Mac when she passed his door and she was minutely pleased he had someone to consult on whatever was disturbing him, even if that person was not his own mother.
 
Tricia had always doted on Harm; he was after all her only child and the son from her marriage to her late husband. She felt a stab of pain to know Harm was hiding something from her, to know there was something he didn't feel he could confide in his mother about. It brought back memories of his teenage years and the time during the years he attended the academy when it felt as if she and Harm drifted apart. Of course he would call her every so often and would send the occasional letter but he rarely visited the house and the arguments he would deliberately provoke with Frank only made their relations worse.
 
Now that he was older, he had more time for her and the grief between Harm and Frank had cooled. He was more open with her to an extent that both surprised and warmed her, especially when he informed her of the time he was going to Russia to search for Harmon Senior. Though that news worried her like it would any mother, it was heartening to know he could trust her not to turn into a hysterical mother.
 
It was getting late and as the routine when Frank was not in the house, Tricia watched the prime-time movie then decided to retire to bed. She had been hoping to spend some time with Harm, find out what's been happening in his life and share her own gossip but he didn't seem interested.
 
As Tricia stepped up the first slight of stairs to her bedroom balancing a glass of milk and a book, she heard a noise from the third floor. Since both bedrooms currently occupied by her son and Mac were situated on the second floor she was curious as to who was upstairs. Curiously but cautiously, the woman followed the scuffles and was surprised when she found herself heading towards the storage room.
 
The house was so big that she and Frank used a couple of the rooms on the third floor for storing paperwork and the Christmas decorations so they were tucked away but were in easy reach in case they were required. Junk like Frank's high school yearbooks and Harm's childhood toys, that he had been unwilling to throw out, were shoved in the attic.
 
Flinging open the door to the room, Tricia frowned when she found Harm sitting in the middle of the floor surrounded by piles of paper that he rummaged through in frenzy. Ordinarily, she would have been incensed at the mess he had made but she had never seen him so worked up before.
 
"Harm...?" He didn't look up. She marched over to him, kneeling in front of him to take him by the shoulders. "Harm, honey, what are you doing?"
 
"Looking for the photos," he replied, pre-occupied.
 
She gaped at him. "What photos?"
 
Stopping in his tracks abruptly, Harm glowered up at her. "My baby photos. I want to look at them."
 
Instead of arguing why he felt the sudden urge to see his infant photographs, Tricia stood up to pull the step ladder to the upper-most shelf where she extracted thick photo album that held the precious physical memories which depicted her son from his birth to his third birthday. It was slightly yellowed with age but the tiny blue aeroplanes adorning the cover were still evident.
 
She stepped back down and handed the book to her son. "Here it is, all the photos are kept up here. Do you want to see your school pictures? They're so cute, especially your kindergarten one when you're wearing those adorable little dungarees."
 
"...Uh, that's nice," muttered Harm, grabbing the album as if it was food and he was a starving man. He flicked through the stiff pages like a man possessed scrutinising each picture feverishly as he went along. When he finished he snapped the book shut and stared at her. "Have you got any more?"
 
Now Tricia was slightly annoyed at his lack of manners and at being kept in the dark. "Harmon Rabb Junior, will you tell what this is all about?"
 
At this her son chuckled ferally. "Harmon Rabb Junior...? It suits me, Mom, doesn't it?"
 
Tricia was concerned. Her son was normally so calm and mild-mannered, this hyperactive man was a stranger. She was more than aware of the hours Harm kept and the work he put in, exhaustion could have so many effects. She was actually considering calling the doctor, maybe a few nights in hospital was what Harm needed. He was clearly unwell.
 
"Harm, are you okay?" She reached to check his temperature. "Maybe you're sick, I should call Doctor Ross. He could examine you and make sure you're not ill."
 
"Oh yeah, I'm fine, I just want to see these photographs. Is that too much to ask?"
 
"No, but that's all there is. That's a whole book full. The rest are of you when you're older."
 
Harm's eyes slit back. He jumped to his feet, towering over her. "Really...? That's interesting, Mom, but what I want to see is some nice family photos." He held the album up and shook it in her face. "Why the hell is every photo just me in front of some blank wall or me with some toy that I don't remember seeing in the attic?! Answer me that!"
 
"Don't you dare talk to me like that, Harm! I'm still your mother."
 
"Well, *Mother*, it seems to me you and Dad are in practically every photo after my third birthday yet it's like you're barely evident before. Why the hell is that?" he demanded. "Why the hell are you not in the photos of the birth of your only son? Why, dammit, are you not helping your first child blow out his first birthday candles or unwrap his presents on his first Christmas?! God, did you care so little of your baby that he was just an exhibition for you. You know, it's almost like you're trying to hide something."
 
The blood drained from Tricia's face and the reason was not because of Harm's anger towards her. "W-what are you talking about, Harm? I showed you what you want to see."
 
"No...no, you haven't." His voice was almost a whisper now. "These pictures...it's like you weren't in my life until I turned three. Why...why is that, Mom? Why aren't you holding me in my baby photos?"
 
He knew...Somehow, he knew. Tricia spun away from her child, unable to face him and look him in his eyes. Those eyes...so imploring and childlike. So like Jack's.
 
She sobbed quietly, hugging herself. Harm made no effort to move forward to comfort her. For the first time in her life, Tricia felt truly bereft. When Harmon Senior disappeared, she was only able to overcome the grief because of her innocent five-year-old baby who looked to her to protect him now. That five-year-old baby who comforted his mother and promised he would always look after her and keep her safe.
 
Had she lost that boy to the secrets she concealed for three decades?
 
A hand touched her shoulder not it wasn't in console but in askance. "Mom...? Please, I need to know. I have to know the truth."
 
All his life he had pursued the truth- in his work, regarding Harmon Senior, in his lovelife. Tricia had raised a child to be committed to justice and the truth when all these yeas she had been instrumental in keeping him from the truth. How could she ever look at herself in the mirror again?
 
Tricia opened her mouth, in desolate awareness that the words she was about to speak could cost her the boy she loved from the day she brought him home. "When your father...Harmon and I married, we were so desperate to start a family- a son and daughter we could shower with love and we could watch grow from children to adults. We tried for six years before our doctors did all the tests. We were told we could never have children, you don't know how hard it is to accept we would never be blessed with the gift of a child."
 
"So you decided to steal one instead?" Harm added, bitterly.
 
Scowling at him, he desisted. "A year later, my elder sister phoned me telling me of problems she was having. Her husband Jack was in the FBI, and she was getting these threats relating to the man he was pursuing. Karen was so worried. She had always been the anxious-type, even as a child. She had not long had her third baby and she was worried about being in the house alone with him.
 
"One day, when baby Ben was about eighteen months old, Karen was out shopping with the baby when she was...almost raped. It turned out the attackers were working for the man Jack was after. It almost drove her over the edge, not just because of the attempted-rape but also because Ben was there. She adored her children, she would have died if they were hurt."
 
She halted, thinking of her sister. "Mom," nudged Harm.
 
"Karen could take it any more, the fear and the threats hanging over her head so she came home to California bringing Ben with her. She tried to bring her elder two children, little Jefferson and Samantha, but Jack was having none of that. He found her and begged her to come home, when she wouldn't he wanted Ben back. Our father, as you know, was a judge and he used all his powers to make sure he couldn't get to Ben."
 
"I can't believe I'm hearing this."
 
"You aren't a father yet, Harm, you haven't been in a position where you would do anything to protect your child. Dad may have been a judge but he was always a father first. Anyway, eventually Dad managed to made void Jack's parental rights over Ben so that Karen was the primary parent. It was so hard so her...Ben was so young, he was a baby and had all the demanding needs of a baby. Karen still had issues over the assault and she simply couldn't cope."
 
"Why did she not just give the baby back to his rightful father? Too simple an option, huh?"
 
Tricia sighed. "It was not so simple. Jack didn't have paternal rights anymore not to mention they hardly had any contact. So...so Karen did what she thought was best and gave us Ben. I suppose you know...that little baby Ben was you. You were two years and  three months when we officially received full custody of you. Karen disappeared a week later though we have had a few letters since then telling us she was safe and somewhere in Canada. My sister, your....real mother...she wanted only the best for you."
 
"Yeah right, she took a child from his father and gave it to two strangers."
 
"We weren't strangers," Tricia  objected, appalled.
 
"No, strangers don't do things like that to their family. They at least just snatch and go, they don't go around voiding a father's rights over his own goddamn kid!" Lowering his voice, Harm continued, "What about my Social Security and such? This adoption, as you call it, should have been mentioned it my school records or Navy files."
 
"In those days it was easier to lie. There were no computers so your dad...Harmon had a friend alter the records at the Social Security and then got a hold of some fairly realistic birth certificates."
 
Harm was not impressed. "You know, if this was a case I was handling now I would do everything I could to take that child back give it to the father then prosecute the mother, the adoptive parents, the lawyer involved in the sham adoption, the asshole down at Social Security and the grandfather to the fullest of the law."
 
"Harm, please understand." She tired to reach out to him but he pulled away.
 
"Don't touch me, Mom- if that's who you really are. I don't think I want you to ever touch me again."
 
He stalked to the door. Tricia called him back. "Harm!"
 
He glacially glared at her. "The name is Ben."
 
At her horrified gasp, he walked out. Tricia gently lifted the baby album into her arms and clutched it for all it was worth as she cried for the children she could never have and the child she had stolen.
 
************************************************************
Outside Tricia and Frank Burnett's Residence
La Jolla, California
2341 EST, April 30th
A stolen child. All these years he had defended the innocent and searched for justice when all along he was a child stolen from his father and siblings. It was so ironic Harm nearly laughed. He had spent his life adoring a false mother and worshipping a fake father.
 
Taking another swig of the bottle of whiskey he was working on, finishing it up the last drops, he gazed out to the illuminated swimming pool. This whole drama had started because he was too damn curious and had stumbled upon a kidnapped child. It began from the recovery of an abduction and ended up with him discovering just how much he shared with young Molly Ryan. Oh sure, his abduction was 'legal' but in his eyes a kidnapping was a kidnapping no matter how hard one tired to distort it with legalities and obscure judicial rulings.
 
He reached for the second bottle when a soft touch halted his movements. Harm looked up to meet the gentle gaze of Mac kneeling down beside him.
 
"This is mine," he declared. "Want some, go get your own."
 
She sighed. "Harm, don't do this to yourself. It won't help. Believe me, I know."
 
"Harm doesn't exist anymore," he stated, logically. "My name is Ben...Benjamin Joseph Carter. There never was any Harm Rabb Junior."
 
Promptly ignoring her advice, he grabbed the whiskey. Studying him for a moment, Mac suddenly snatched the bottle away from his and flung it into the pool. He watched wide-eyed as the bottle landed with a plop and sank to the bottom. Narrowing his azure eyes at his partner, he went to move back from her touch but she held him tighter, keeping him in place.
 
"The day you're cursed with parents like mine I'll let you bond with the bottle. Until then I'm stopping you from making a mistake," Mac said. "Drinking doesn't help anything. I learned that the hard way." She sighed at his forlorn expression. She must have been so used to seeing the exuberant, confident Harm and the man that sat in front of her at this very moment was only a shell of her partner. "You can't keep running from this, Harm."
 
"You ran away from your mother and your dying father," he pointed out spitefully, only feeling a faint pang of remorse for the cruelty of the statement.
 
"That was different. I *knew* my parents."
 
"So do *I* or the woman I presumed was my mother. Apparently, the old saying is true- 'you can't presumed anything.'"
 
"Harm, my mother abandoned me- her only child- with a father who neglected me. She never made one effort to contact me since I was fifteen nor did she say goodbye. Hell, she even took my damn dog with her and abandoned him."
 
Harm knew this bleak story but it sounded all the more sorrowful coming straight from Mac's mouth. It seemed they were both cursed with deplorable parents. God, people should have a license to have kids.
 
"I wouldn't say I have it made either, Mac."
 
"No," she conceded. "But you have one set of loving parents who raised you like a son, better than most people raise their real children, and a father who has clearly spent his life missing for you. It might not have been the way you planned but you have three great people who love you. Three more than I had."
 
Heaving a deep breath, he looked down. "I hate them for what they have done to me, Mac...You don't know how hard it is to say you hate your mother. And that son-of-a-bitch I risked my life to go to Russia for, I could kill him if he wasn't dead."
 
"You don't hate them, you hate what they have done."
 
Of course, she was right. He didn't think he could hate the woman he had grown up calling his mother. He had seen children who had been violently abused by their biological parents yet he, an adopted child, had only ever known love. Besides, it wasn't just his mother's fault. He just wished his father- Harmon Senior- was here to confront. But at least he did have the chance to meet another father, which was more than anyone could have.
 
It was all so confusing. On one hand he was naturally curious and excited at the idea of meeting this Jack Carter properly. The man seemed like a good person who might have raised him with the same virtues and morals his adopted parents had instilled in him. Plus, there was his new brother and sister to consider. He had grown up an only child experiencing the loneliness only a child growing up without the friendship of other siblings could know. A warmth stirred within him to know he was not completely alone.
 
However, on the other hand he felt like just letting the whole situation go, leaving the past to the past. He had spent the greater half of his life searching for a missing father; did he really want the pain and trauma of another? He wondered if other adopted children felt these worries or if it was just him.
 
"What do you think I should do?" Harm asked of his best friend and advisor, feeling oddly childlike and at a loss.
 
Mac smiled warmly at him, placing a hand on his cheek in a comforting gesture. "I can't tell you that, that is something you have to decide for yourself. But you have a great mom and a father who wants to see you. I think *you* know what to do without my advice."
 
************************************************************
Tricia and Frank Burnett's Residence
La Jolla, California
1322 EST, May 1st
It had been a restless night for Harm and he had little time for sleep with so many turbulent musings washing through his confused mind. He had decided to go home straight away, though he forgave his mother it would take some time for him to forget, if ever. He just couldn't stay in California playing happy families when he still had  issues to be dealt with alone.
 
"Tell me about my sister and brother."
 
Harm didn't know where that came from. They would be leaving for the airport in half-an-hour and Mac was finishing off some last minute packing leaving him alone with his mother in the living room. A deathly silence had taken residence between the mother and son and Harm was desperate to ease relations before he left otherwise it would just serve to complicate what was already complicated enough.
 
Tricia jerked up, startled at the sound of his voice in her presence. "What do you want to know?" she asked, equally as casually, seemingly leery of frightening him off.
 
"What are they like?"
 
"Well, the last time I saw the two kids, Jefferson was seven and Samantha was five. Jeff was a lot like you I suppose, full of energy and into everything. He wanted to help everyone. He was very protective of Sammi and you."
 
"Until you took me away. Must have left him heartbroken." At his mother's dismayed expression, he instantly regretted the snide remark. "Sorry."
 
She nodded in acknowledgement. "Sammi was a sweet girl. Quite the little tom-boy though and was determined to keep up with the boys."
 
"And...my father?"
 
"Jack is a good man, he's as dedicated to the FBI as you are to the Navy. Sometimes, you remind me so much of him. You have his eyes and his smile."
 
"I thought I looked like Dad."
 
"You did, it was sheer luck that you grew up to look so much like Harmon. But as much as you take after him, you are so much Jack's child. I think that was why we avoided Jack, when you were with him it brought home the fact you were not ours." Tricia reached and smoothed Harm's cheek. "But never forget we loved you like you were our own. We couldn't have loved you anymore even if you were our biological son."
 
Harm patted his mother's hand. "I know, Mom. I always knew that."
 
His eyes drifted to the mantelpiece to where the family photos were adorned. His first day at school, the Christmas Santa had brought him his beloved model plane, the last picture taken with his father...And he flitted from picture to picture he couldn't help but wonder what life would have been like had he remained with his real father- Jack Carter. He would have grown up in Washington probably under his true name of Benjamin Carter but would Ben Carter the man had turned out like? Would he have been devoted to the truth and to justice as much as Harm was? He doubted the Navy would have held a place in his heart; as much as he loved flying and the Navy, it was Harmon Senior who precipitated his desire to recruit.
 
"I'm going to see them," Harm announced, not needing to clarify who 'them' was.
 
"Yes, you should." As she spoke he could hear the crack in Tricia's voice. Oh God, he was making his mother cry. He hadn't done that since the day he ran off to Vietnam at aged sixteen under the misguided hope of finding his MIA father.
 
"Mom..."
 
Tricia held her son to her. "I know you need to see Jack, I've known since the day we first got you...It's just so hard. I don't want to lose you, Harm. You're all I've got left."
 
"You won't lose me, Mom," he said, returning the embrace fiercely, "but this is something I gotta to do. I spent my life looking for Dad, this man has spent looking *his* life for his son. I have to see him, I suppose I owe him that much." He stepped away from her as Mac came into the room, carrying her bags. "I'll call you when we get to DC, Mom."
 
They said their good-byes quickly, Tricia sensing her son's emotional fragility and she wept silently as she watched their car pull away and disappear from view. Feeling such a jealousy towards Jack Carter for the son he was taking back from her, Tricia hoped Jack knew what a gift her- *their*- son was. And she just prayed that thirty-two years of love and devotion would help get her and Harm through this turmoil.
 
************************************************************
Harm’s Residence
Washington DC
1956 EST, May 3rd
As Jordan prattled on about her friend's wedding during the movie they were meant to be watching, Harm fingered the business card that was inscribed with the name and phone number of his new father. It was the standard FBI card that was carried by most agents to be handed out to witnesses but it meant so much more to Harm.
 
The day he and Mac returned from San Diego, he went to the office discreetly and asked Admiral Chedwiggen for the card. The Admiral, who normally was so restrained with his emotions in front of his officers, was surprisingly proud when he handed the card to Harm. He could tell his superior officer was happy that he had determined to contact the man know revealed to be his father. Perhaps, Chedwiggen's own experiences with his daughter Francesca had affected him more than they had all thought.
 
The phone call to Jack (he couldn't bring himself to call this man 'Dad') was one of the hardest tasks Harm had ever had to do, the search in Russia and his law exams included. The call itself was awkward and halting on Harm's part, he had no clue what to say to this man who expected so much in emotional attachment from him, but Jack was enthusiastic and attempted to ease the discomfort by not getting into too much too soon. After a five minutes of small talk, the father and son finally arranged to meet properly at Jack's home in Baltimore on this Saturday coming. Apparently, the house was the same house he had lived in as a child.
 
Harm was still so uncertain about how he felt and he decided to bring Mac along for support. She was only too pleased to come, stating that she had been there for him in Russia and she would be here for him now. He was amazed that for someone who herself had so many problems, especially with men, that she could be so reassuring towards him when she put her mind to it. If he didn't have so much on his mind, he might have spent more time looking into that little complexity.
 
"...Harm!"
 
Jolted out of his reverie, he started to find Jordan staring at him in a mixture of worry and impatience. "Eh...yeah?"
 
"I was asking, how about we go out on Saturday?"
 
Oh crap...For some reason unbeknown to him, he had not let Jordan into his 'little' secret and he was not looking forward to telling her either. He was tempted to just fob her off with a silly excuse but he had the misfortune of being raised honest.
 
Avoiding her eyes, he fidgeted like a schoolboy caught red-handed playing a prank. "I can't..." He trailed off. At Jordan's questioning expression, he inhaled deeply. "I'm going to see my father..."
 
"What? Your father?...Harm, your father's dead." She said it in a slow tone as if she were talking to a toddler.
 
He glowered. "Well, apparently he's not and no, I *do not* need a CAT scan."
 
Jordan blinked at his harsh tone. The memories of the way she had just dismissed Harm's visions of his dead father during Palmer's reign of terror were fresh in his mind. She had put it all down to psychosis, drugs or some other kind of neurological disorder. She even went as far as to recommend he has a CAT scan. Maybe if she had listened to him and believed him before then Palmer wouldn't have been allowed to go so far. He loved Jordan but he just wished she would listen to him more than she did her psychiatry degree.
 
She sat up, pulling slightly away from him on the sofa that they were sharing. "Harm, what's going on?"
 
Harm sighed deeply. He seemed to be sighing a lot these days. Then he slowly began to utter the events of the last week from the revelation of his parentage up to his and Mac's trip to San Diego.
 
Needless to say, Jordan's reaction was less than soothing. "You've known about this for a week and you haven't told me," she said in a barely audible voice. "You went to see your mother, *with* Mac, and still you never told me *anything*."
 
"Last time I told you something relating to my family you suggested I get a CAT scan and then asked about my history with narcotics." It was a low blow, Harm knew, but he couldn't help it. It still angered it when he recollected how the time he trusted Jordan to listen to him and the first thing she did was slip into 'Doctor Parker, MD' mode.
 
"Don't you dare turn this back to me, Harm," Jordan hissed. "We are meant to be together, you are meant to trust me and now I find out this."
 
He slumped further down in the sofa. "I didn't want to believe it was true I guess. The admiral and Mac only knew because Jack Carter came to the office...I suppose I thought the more people I told, the more real all this crap would be." Jordan just glowered at him like he was the reincarnate of Satan. She did not respond in anyway and the silence was irritating him. "Well? Say something?"
 
"Why didn't you come to me with this?" she whispered.
 
He shrugged. "I didn't need to see a shrink, Jordie. What I did need was answers."
 
"Is that all I am to you- a shrink? Is this my punishment for that whole Palmer thing?"
 
"No, of course not," he emphasised.
 
Jordan studied him for a moment, as if not too sure of whether to believe him. Apparently she did, for she said, "So when are you going to see your father?"
 
"He's *not* my father," Harm cut in harshly. He sighed at his defensiveness then lowered his voice. "On Saturday at around two. He invited me to a barbecue, the others will be there."
 
"As in your brother and sister?" Harm nodded. Jordan's blue eyes then fixed on his. "Are you going alone?"
 
Harm shifted uncomfortably, seriously contemplating lying to her. Somehow, he had the distinct feeling telling her Mac was accompanying him would not go down well. For a shrink, Jordan behaved almost jealous of the partnership he shared with Mac. Surely she could see that he and Mac were just friends.
 
"Umm...Mac's coming with me," he mumbled, not meeting her probing eyes. He could feel her glare boring into his skull.
 
"Mac..." she repeated quietly. "You're taking Mac to go visit the father you just found out about instead of the woman you're meant to be in love with."
 
He didn't mean it to sound so cold but he just felt more comfortable with Mac there. She didn't have any expectations nor would she analysis every move Harm made. Not to mention Mac had been there in Russia when he found out the man he thought his father was dead, it was only right she be there now.
 
"Jordan, don't make this into something it's not. I would just feel better having Mac there, especially after Russia."
 
"Well, if that's the way you want it..."
 
Needless to say, the rest of the evening passed with an icy atmosphere in the air with neither in the mood for jokes and laughter- Harm's thoughts drifting back to his new family and Jordan thinking of ways to dispose of Mac, preferably in the most painful manner possible.
 
************************************************************
Jack Carter’s Residence
Baltimore
1418 EST, May 8th
For all his thirty years with the Bureau, Jack Carter had never been so nervous in all his life until now. It was ironic to think he could deal with the vilest of serial killers and the most savage of drug barons without a second thought but the idea of spending the day with his youngest son terrified him to the core.
 
Ben...His lost little boy. He had searched for Karen and Ben for months after his ex-wife stole his baby son but by the time he found them it had been too late. Now he was getting his boy back. In the years after Ben's adoption and absence from his life, Jack struggled to overcome his son's disappearance while trying to raise a bitter seven-year-old boy and a withdrawn five-year-old girl alone, and times where hard for lone fathers in those days. Jack never gave up hope on getting Ben back yet he had to abandon his quest to concentrate on his other two children. That was the hardest decision he had ever made.
 
But now he didn't care to think of the past; he was getting his Benji back!
 
Jack stood by the window staring out eagerly like a child waiting up for Santa Claus. His eyes would lit up whenever a car drove by only to dim when he realised it was not Ben. Questions bred out of worry and fear of rejection pervaded his mind. What if he wasn't coming? What if Ben decided to leave the past alone?
 
"He'll be here, Jack," came the gentle lilt of his wife, Maggie. "You just have to relax. You'll frighten the poor boy with all your obsession."
 
She was quietly amused by his increasing agitation over the week leading up to this gathering. She had taken the full brunt of his worries and nervousness. Maggie was more than aware that Assistant Director Jack Carter was not always as tough as he led the junior agents under him to believe. That was one of the many attributes Jack loved about Maggie; she accepted him for who he was without stressing over it. Karen had always been skittish around his job.
 
Jack shot Maggie a sideways glance before his azure eyes returned to the window. "The boy probably thinks we're all a bunch maniacs with the way Pete practically stalked him."
 
"But, Dad, we *are* all a bunch of maniacs," grinned his son, Jeff. His wife, Caroline, just shot him a withering glare and he shut up.
 
"I'm not a maniac," piped up the couple's six-year-old son, Macaulay.
 
Caroline smoothed her son's dark hair. "Of course not, sweetheart, sometimes Daddy is just an bonehead and says some boneheaded things, that's all."
 
"Daddy's a bonehead," giggled the boy, gleefully.
 
"Gee, Carol, you can be so very 'supportive' for a shrink," muttered Jeff at his wife's smirk.
 
"Jack," Caroline said, sobering, "I am afraid you *will* put across a manic impression if you carry on staring out that window like that. You've been there for three hours solid, you'll have the neighbours nervous."
 
"Dad's been like that all day," smiled Sam, amusing Kester with a storybook.
 
The whole family was here, of course, not just to welcome Ben back into the family but for Jack's sake. His daughter Sam and her three-year-old son Kester had drove in from their home city of Wilmington. Ironically, his eldest son Jeff and his family actually lived just a few miles from where Ben was living all these years. It was comforting to know that Jeff would be able to keep closer contact with Ben since the two both lived in DC.
 
"Hey, Grandpa, is Uncle Ben really a pilot for the Navy?" enthused Remy, Jeff's eldest son. "Do you think he was in a war? Does he still fly? D'you think he'll take me to see a plane? Or maybe take me on a ship?"
 
At three, little Kester was too young to understand what this meant to his family; the welcoming of his lost uncle back into their lives. He was in the full spirit was the event, picking up the good mood from his elders, but soon boredom was unleashed and he was quite happy to play with his toys again, dismissing everything with the short attention span of the average toddler. In many ways, when Jack watched his youngest grandson he was taken back to the short years he had with Ben. Kester was a spitting image of his uncle as an infant.
 
Jack's four elder grandchildren, however, were old enough to appreciate this day. They knew what it meant to their father and grandfather. Jeff's children- fourteen-year-old Annika, Jeremy aged nine-and-a-half, and six-year-old twins, Madison and Macaulay- were all intrigued and excited at meeting their newly revealed uncle. But out of all of them, it was Remy who seemed the most enthralled by his Uncle Ben.
 
The nine-year-old was still many years from graduating even from high school, nevertheless everyone in the family knew the boy dreamt of joining the Navy and piloting some hotshot fighter jet. His bedroom was adorned with posters of jets and model F-14's he had made. Remy was over-the-moon when he found out his lost uncle was in the Navy and a former pilot, with all the FBI agents in the family it delighted him to know there was finally someone he could talk to about his passion.
 
"Maybe if you ask him nicely he'll take you to see a plane," Caroline appeased.
 
"That's if he sticks around long enough," Jeff added. When he saw his father's face fall and his wife's glare, he amended, "You know how lawyers are, always dashing off to do their paperwork."
 
"Jeff," sighed Jack, "I wish you would be more open-minded about Ben. This is my son, your baby brother, coming back to us. Please don't scare him away."
 
Jack knew that his eldest son had his reservations. He was convinced Ben was gone forever and would end up not wanting much to do with them. Jeff was only seven when the whole incident occurred- old enough to understand that his mother had kidnapped his brother and left him behind. It had hit the boy hard making him delicate and volatile. But where a seven-year-old boy shed tears, a thirty-nine-year-old man used sarcasm and emotional shields to hid his true feelings. In many ways, when Jack had lost Ben physically he had also lost Jeff emotionally. Only Caroline and the kids could unlock him.
 
Jeff hesitated. "I'll try, Dad. But only for your sake, I'm not going to get all intense with Little Brother only to find him reject us. I think Mother Dear put us through the wringer enough as it is."
 
"Jefferson, you shouldn't be-"
 
The ring of the doorbell cut off Jack's tirade. The family watched in disbelief as Jack ran to the mirror, brushing a hand through his thick hair then straightening his shirt.
 
Maggie halted his movements, catching her husband's hand. "No more, Jack...Your son is waiting for you."
 
Jack smiled at her. What had he done to deserve such a loving wife? Perhaps if he had met Maggie forty-one years earlier all this would not have happened. But as it was, he was about to welcome his long-lost son back into the family. Taking a deep breath to compose himself, he walked to the door.
 
For all his excitement, for all his longing to have his Ben home again, he wasn't sure if he could do this. What if Jeff was right? What if he rejected them? Could he handle losing Ben a second time?
 
He inhaled deeply. He had to do this. This was his son and he was coming home.
 
Jack was barely aware as he opened the door, silence hushing the atmosphere. First, he set eyes upon the young woman who was accompanying his son. It hadn't struck Jack that he could have more grandchildren out there, another daughter-in-law, but since there was nothing mention in the brief file he had managed to get his hands on, neither was the woman or Ben wearing a wedding band.
 
Somehow that was comforting, to know he hadn't missed *that* major part of Ben's life.
 
Finally, his blue eyes came to rest on Ben. Although Jack had the opportunity to see his son a week ago in the JAG office, it still astounded him how much Ben had changed. There were moments in his mind when he still thought of his son as the two-year-old baby he was the last time he saw him. But despite struggling coming to grips with the fact his son was now in his early thirties, he could not help but smile inwardly at how the years had treated him.
 
There was no denying Ben was good-looking, inheriting his towering height, intense blue eyes and dark hair. There was some hint of Karen around the jaw, but it was so satisfying to know his son had grown into a Carter. No matter who had raised him, no matter what lies he had been told, no-one could change his genetics.
 
Blood *was* thicker than water, thank God.
 
Not waiting one moment longer, Jack reached for his son, embracing him for the first time in thirty-two years. Ben stiffened under his hold then gradually returned a weak clasp.
 
"Oh, Ben, it's so good to see you," cried Jack, reluctantly releasing Ben whilst blinking back the tears pooling in his eyes. "It's so good that you came."
 
"Uh...I go by Harm now," his son replied, awkwardly.
 
It angered Jack to have to call his son by the name *they* had given him, a family name no less but there was nothing he could do. One had to accept things had changed or they would get no-where.
 
"Okay...Harm it is," conceded Jack.
 
As if suddenly gaining his bearings, *Harm* blinked then turned to the woman standing by his side. "This is my partner, Sarah Mackenzie."
 
"Partner as in...?"
 
"Partner as in partners at work," smiled Sarah. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr Carter."
 
They shook hands. "Please call me Jack."
 
"In that case, call me Mac."
 
These introductions were the easy part. By now standing in the hall, the rest of the family had gathered hesitantly to see how relations were going. This was going to be interesting. Surprisingly, or perhaps unsurprisingly, it was Jeff who hung back with the same face he wore when he was nervous- he was frowning slightly, his eyes lowered. Jack turned to Ben, or should he say Harm, and almost laughed to see his youngest sporting an identical expression.
 
Maggie smiled at Harm, stepping to stand at her husband's side. "Hello, I'm Maggie, Jack's wife. I guess that makes me your step-mother. Don't worry, I know there's a lot of us but you'll get used to the brood soon enough." Harm smiled back, seemingly appreciating the light humour.
 
And it was the normally quieter Samantha who stepped forward to touch her brother. "You've grown," she said with a smile. "You were always such a pipsqueak that we thought you'd never grow."
 
Harm returned her smile. "You must be...my sister, Samantha."
 
"Yeah, call me Sam, but I can also handle Samantha. Any of the 'Sammi' stuff, you're dead."
 
"Sure thing, childhood nicknames can be a pain." Harm's smile grew into a grin when he looked down to notice the tiny dark-haired boy who was clutching at Sam's leg. "And who is this little guy?"
 
Sam scooped her son into her arms. "This is my son, Kester. Kester, this is your Uncle Ben."
 
"Uh, I'm your Uncle *Harm*, Kester. Hi there, squirt. How old are you?"
 
Sam exchanged a glance with Jack at Ben's name correction but she quickly turned her attention back to the conversation. "He's three years old, just turned three last month."
 
"Name's Kes," yelled Kester, correcting Harm with a child's cheeky certainty.
 
"So, it's not just Kes here that doesn't like his name." Of course, those words could only come out of Jeff's mouth. The eldest of the three Carter children moved from his wife's side to stand directly in front of Harm, scrutinising him like the man was a suspect instead of his brother. "You're looking good, Baby Brother. I see *they* treated you well, that's good."
 
"And you must be Jefferson," scowled Harm.
 
Jack cast a glare at his two sons. The temperature in the room dropped at least ten degrees in the moments they had set eyes on one another. He wished just for once Jeff would quit being an FBI agent and give a person a chance, especially when that person was his own brother.
 
"That's right, *Harm*, that's me. Big brother Jeff."
 
Just as Jack was about to intercede before World War Three could break out, Caroline rolled her eyes and offered her hand. "Hi, I'm Jeff's wife Caroline. Welcome to the family, or should I say welcome back." Harm looked relieved, shaking his sister-in-law's hand while keeping a watch on Jeff. Ever the psychologist, Caroline ignored the testosterone permeating between the two brothers and proceeded to introduce her four offspring. "These are our children; Annika, Jeremy, Madison and Macaulay." She nodded to each child as she said their name.
 
"Are you really a pilot?" Jeremy piped up, eagerly. "Grandpa said you were."
 
Jack winced inwardly. The last thing he needed was for Ben/Harm to think he was snooping around, checking up on him. He relaxed when he saw that Harm simply shot him a curious glance before answering the boy.
 
"Yes, I am. I used to be a pilot in the Navy but a few years ago I became a lawyer. I still clock a few flying hours in though."
 
"Cool! I'm gonna be a pilot too, y'know."
 
"Well, maybe when you're qualified we can fly together."
 
"That would be neat. I've even thought of my callsign- Gambit."
 
"Gambit?"
 
"Big 'X-Men' fan," interrupted Caroline. "Not to mention he thinks he's invincible when he's determined."
 
At this, Mac- who has remained quiet throughout- snorted. "Sounds like someone I know."
 
Sam cleared her throat. "I suppose we should get the barbecue started, knowing our luck it'll probably rain soon."
 
As the family- now completed family- began to move to the kitchen door which led to the backyard, Jack couldn't help but hold back to watch them all unobserved. It felt good to have all his children under one roof again after thirty-two years, even if those 'children' were all in their thirties.
 
"I told you it would be okay," Maggie whispered to him. "And it's going to get even better."
 
At that moment, Annika gaped her uncle then cocked her head to her mother. "You didn't say he was cute, Mom," gushed the teenager.
 
Caroline hid a smile. "Just remember he's your father's brother, Annika. That means he's your uncle and off limits."
 
Jack watched them retreat, following the others. When they were out of sight, he turned to his wife and shared a private smile. In reply to her statement, he said contentedly, "Yes, I know, I've got my son back."
 
************************************************************
This seemed somehow surreal to Harm. Just over a week ago, he was Harmon Rabb Junior who would probably be planning to spend his Saturday afternoon flying his plane 'Sarah' or having lunch in some upper-class restaurant with Jordan. Now look at him- he was spending the day with his father, brother and sister watching their kids bounce around chirpily. And despite all his anger and aggravation at the whole situation he couldn't help but enjoy himself.
 
Naturally, Harm revelled in the company of his five new nieces and nephews. He liked children and these five were no exception. They were just kids who had no involvement in the whole mess surrounding his adoption, they were innocents so he would feel no rage towards them.
 
But to his astonishment, he had to admit he actually found himself growing fond of Samantha, the woman who was his elder sister. She treated him as a cross between a good friend and a kid brother. As an only child, Harm wasn't used to having a sibling relationship with anyone but he liked the idea of sharing a built-in friendship with this woman simply on the basis she was his sister. There was something comforting to know he had someone looking out for him, someone who held no real expectations of him since he was family.
 
Then there was his 'dear' brother, Jeff...This guy seemed to be the epitome of hostility. His mood, when dealing with Harm, shifted from sarcastic to downright moody. Harm was beginning to wonder how Jeff had kept such a caring wife like Caroline and had managed to raise four affectionate kids. He doubted very much if Jeff's 'jovial' spirits had anything to do with it.
 
"Don't worry, Jeff's like this in all the situations where he can't take charge."
 
Harm scowled when he saw the knowing look Caroline gave him. He hadn't even noticed her approach him and sit opposite him on the garden bench. "Are you a psychic or something?"
 
"No, I'm a clinical psychologist."
 
"That would explain it then." Just what he needed, another Jordan telling him he needed a CAT scan.
 
"Actually, I guessed from the way you're looking at my husband like you want to slit his body open and use his intestines to hang him." Harm shrugged sheepishly. "Believe me, there have been moments when I have had similar thoughts. Jeff is a great husband and a wonderful father, but in the considerate side of things he comes up lacking."
 
"So I've noticed."
 
"And you think you're not a Carter; you have the whole sarcasm part worked down to a T."
 
Harm scowled at this. He didn't like being affiliated with his birth name, he liked to delude himself that it wasn't true. And from the watchful glint in his sister-in-law's eyes, she knew that too. Actually, given time to look things over, Harm was surprised at how much a 'Carter' he was. He had considered having DNA tests run to know for certain what Jack Carter and his mother had said was the truth but when he had taken the time to actually study Jack he found so many similarities both personality and physically. It was the eyes that had done it, when he looked into Jack's blue orbs he saw his own. There was no denying his parentage after that.
 
Deciding to change the subject onto something more neutral, Harm asked, "How long have you been married to m-my...to Jeff?"
 
"Sixteen years, we met at a criminal psychology seminar then the next thing we knew we were married and had Anni two years later. I take it you don't have any kids."
 
"No, have thought about it but I haven't met anyone yet."
 
Caroline smirked. "Not even Mac?"
 
"No," Harm replied, indulgently. "not even Mac. We're just friends but nothing more."
 
"Not many 'just friends' would accompany someone to a meeting like this. But I suppose Jack is happy you don't have kids yet. He would probably want some part in their lives and it would hurt him to think he missed another significant part of your life."
 
"I'm glad my life conforms to Jack's hopes..." Harm trailed off, embarrassed that his anger had the best of him again. He sighed heavily. "I suppose I understand. I just feel my life is out of control at the moment."
 
"I understand," murmured Caroline.
 
Harm snorted. He hated it when psychologists said they understood when they knew nothing at all. It sounded so patronising. "I really don't think you understand."
 
"You're right," the woman admitted, "I don't understand completely. *Your* situation is unique but I *do* understand a little of what you're going through, the identity crisis you're feeling." At Harm's questioning glance, she continued, "I was adopted at birth. My parents loved me and gave me everything but still I wonder who my real parents were."
 
"Believe me, the truth isn't all that it's cut out to be sometimes...but it is worth it."
 
Caroline smiled warmly at him, taking his hand gently. "I'm glad it is."
 
************************************************************
"How long have you been working with my brother?"
 
As much as Jack wanted to be with his new-found son, he decided Ben- Harm- needed time to get used to the new settings not to mention he couldn't trust Jeff. Right now, the eldest of the Carter children was interrogating Mac for information.
 
"Almost four years," Mac answered patiently.
 
 "Mm-hm, and is my brother seeing anyone?"
 
"Eh, I think that's a question to ask Harm...and I'm sure he'll answer you if you were civil to him."
 
Jeff smirked slightly. "I guess."
 
Jack sighed. "Jeff, why don't you go see if you can give Maggie a hand with the salad?" Jeff nodded curtly at Mac then obediently wandered off to where the barbecue was sizzling. Jack gave Mac an apologetic smile. "You must excuse my son, he's not what one would called trusting. Too many spy movies as a child."
 
"I suppose it must have been difficult for him too," Mac said.
 
"Yes, it was. How do you explain to a seven-year-old boy that his mother has left him and taken his baby brother? Jeff never got over it. He worshipped Karen and adored Ben...Harm. But it's even harder to explain to a thirty-four-year-old man that his whole life is a lie?"
 
Perhaps his selfishness for Ben had hurt his son too much. He had just went ahead and told Ben who he was, that his entire foundations where nothing but an illusion created by two parents-cum-kidnappers. Maybe it would have been better to have let the past go, let Ben go.
 
Mac, as if sensing his thoughts, said, "I won't lie that it has been hard for Harm. This has made him moody and quite trying. But he will handle it. I was with him when he found out that his father," she winced at this, "was dead after he had searched for him for so long. Harm values his family, and given time he will come to feel the same for you....given time. Harm obsesses in things close to him, I know because I was there when he had you all checked out. You have to mean something to him if he's not willing to let you go yet."
 
Jack was delighted at this insight into his son's life, and the reminder that it had only been a week...Time was the key factor in building a relationship, and Jack was not going to give up.
 
************************************************************
Outside The Villa Franco Restaurant
Washington DC
1300 EST, May 19th 
Jeff hated stake-outs; they were tedious and often pointless. Today he and his partner, Ashleigh Kincaid, were assigned to be watching an asshole narcotics trafficker who had been realised from prison just a week previously. It was mainly a babysitting job to keep an eye on this felon while punishing him and Ash for the unorthodox boat chase they were involved in a few days ago. His Assistant Director said it would not look good for him to have special treatment; sometimes it really sucked having half your family in the same line of work.
 
He shifted in the front seat of the standard Ford Taurus that seemed to be a favourite issue of car for the Bureau. He then turned to the passenger seat when he heard Ash give an irritated sigh.
 
"What?" he demanded.
 
Ash just raised an eyebrow. "You remind me of my six-year-old godson. He can't pack his ass down for more than two minutes. But he has an excuse, he has ADHD. You, however, are an FBI agent in his early forties. Can't you keep still?"
 
"Oh, sorry, your Royal Highness. And for your information, I'm only thirty-nine."
 
Ash smirked. "I forget."
 
In law enforcement, one had to trust their partner impeccably and there was no denying that Jeff would place his life in Ash's hands at a moment's notice. Yet there were times when he could gladly murder her with his bare hands. Ash was an excellent agent and he considered her a good friend but she could be so annoying when she wanted to be. Jeff sometimes wondered if her bouts of childish behaviour was his own fault. She was around the same age as Ben and he sometimes imposed his 'big brother' act onto her and, being the youngest of five children, Ash responded.
 
And just like a typical little sister, Ash decided it was time to move in for a kill. "How's it going with Ben? You and he best buds yet?"
 
"Oh yeah, it's like he was never away," Jeff muttered sarcastically as his gaze drifted to the side window.
 
Ash arched an eyebrow. "So, you were your usual charming self?"
 
Jeff turned quickly to glower at her. "What the hell is that meant to mean?"
 
"Nothing, but I'm just making an accurate observation. You have been determined to not like him from the moment you heard he had been found and I bet you were an ass when you actually met him."
 
"I have *not* been determined to hate him. Ben's my kid brother, I looked forward to seeing him."
 
"Do the comments 'how can I be related to a damn military lawyer' and 'he's been raised by assholes so what hope is there left for him' ring any bells with you? Because I remember a certain person saying that to me some weeks back."
 
Jeff smirked at his statements then caught himself. Defensively, to deflect attention from him, he demanded, "Why are you so damned interested in what I think of Ben?"
 
"Well, I like to see families coming together and finding joy in one another's company. Not to mention, I think Ben is rather cute."
 
They often found themselves having deep, meaningful conversations during long, boring assignments but discussing his brother's 'cute' factor was not something Jeff wanted to delve into. It wasn't as if the little brat would be around for long to allow them a proper look at his face.
 
Ash regarded Jeff. "What are you afraid of, Jeff?" she asked, her tone not taunting but more gentle.
 
"What?"
 
"Don't get macho on me. Why are you so afraid of liking Ben?"
 
Why was he? He knew he should have been delighted that Ben was back with them, he had dreamed of the day his brother would rush back into their arms and they would be a family once again. But the thing was, Ben did not rush back into their lives. He had his own life and seemed, at times, almost terrified of them. Jeff had watched him carefully at the barbecue and fifteen years of sniffing out criminals and victims had taught him to recognise the smell of wariness.
 
It wasn't really Ben's fault. In many ways, Jeff had been expecting the two-year-old that he remembered to be returned to them. He hadn't really considered that as the years passed and he grew up, Ben had grown up as well- only with a different family on the other side of the country.
 
Now Jeff wished that Ben would just leave them alone. His father was doing well in over-coming Ben's abduction but all this igniting old and bitter memories. He didn't want his father to go through the pain of losing Ben again when Dear Baby Brother decided he didn't want any more to do with them.
 
"I can see it already, Ash," Jeff admitted, "Ben's gonna jack us when he gets bored and I don't think Dad will get over it again."
 
"What makes you thinks he'll not want anymore contact? He did come to the barbecue, didn't he?"
 
"Yes, but curiousity is a strong enticement."
 
"And I was speaking to Caroline and she said Ben often speaks to Sam and even Remy."
 
"Remy is a little nine-year-old kid and Sam is too easy on him. There's no..."
 
Ash picked up where he trailed off. "Sam doesn't expect a huge explanation for something which he probably doesn't remember."
 
"Yes."
 
That was particularly vexing. Sam was so good to Dear Baby Brother, treating him as if he had never left. Why wasn't she as mad as he was? She had been there when Ben was taken, she had listened to their father cry at night for the loss of a son.
 
"You know what you problem is, Jeff?" Ash asked, not really expecting or wanting an answer from her partner. "You feel as if your territory has been invaded."
 
"What? That's ridiculous."
 
"It's true, you've been the kind of successor to your dad for years and now Ben has come along."
 
God, she made him sound like a spoilt kid. He was not jealous of Ben, he was mad at him. Was it such a crime to have one's father's best interests at heart? Jeff just wanted to protect his father and now Ash was making it as if there was some kind of power struggle going on.
 
"Look, I know that dear baby Ben is going to dump us and run leaving me to deal with my dad's guilt and grief all over again. And when did your mail order psyche degree come through the post, Ash?"
 
"Don't need a psyche degree, Jeffy. I'm the only girl of four brothers, I know way too much about the male ego. And I saw the concern Ben had for that little Ryan kid and I think he isn't the type to just do a runner. Someone who cares that much for a stranger's child has to have some feelings other than curiousity for his own family."
 
Jeff snorted, unimpressed. What did Ash know? She had her perfect little family, she wasn't the one whose mother was a conniving kidnapper and who had a brother more interested in his life of lies than his true family. However, Jeff took it all back when they went back to the office four hours later and found his Uncle Peter sitting on his desk waiting for him.
 
"What's up?" he asked.
 
"Your father just called me a few minutes ago. Apparently, your little brother is coming on Saturday to spend some time with him."
 
Shooting Ash a scowl, he when he caught her smug grin, Jeff nonetheless smiled inwardly to himself. For his father's sake, he was glad to have been proven wrong.
 
************************************************************
Jack Carter’s Residence
Baltimore
1200 EST, May 23rd
Harm didn't know what possessed him to come here, perhaps because he spent the past couple of weeks brooding or maybe he just need to do this alone. Whatever it was, he found himself phoning Jack Carter up the previous night and asking if he could come for a visit. One would have thought he had given the older man the Nobel Prize from the joy in his voice, but when Jack eventually calmed down he said that his family needn't ask- they were always welcome. The thing was, Harm often forgot he was this man's- this stranger's- family.
 
As it was, he did find himself growing close to Sam and Jeff's family. Sam made a point of calling him every third day and Harm liked that. She didn't put pressure on him, and the main conversation was on work or about his little nephew Kester. And with Jeff's family, he found himself regularly e-mailing young Remy to send the boy pictures of jets or another miscellaneous Navy news.
 
Strangely enough, Harm also found himself confiding in Caroline, much to Jordan's chagrin. He knew he should discuss his problems with Jordan, not because she was a psychiatrist but his lover yet he could not forget her credentials. Sometimes she forgot that there were times when he just wanted to talk and not be subject to her analysis. Besides, as an adopted child herself, Caroline understood his identity crisis more than Jordan ever could.
 
Suddenly, the front door opened and Jack appeared, smiling down at him. Harm swallowed a slight snort- this guy was always smiling at him. He wondered if Jack had actually raised him and seen what a little brat he had been as a child, if the man would be smiling quite this much.
 
"Hi, B-Harm, how's things?" he said, ushering Harm into the house.
 
Harm let the slight slip of his name go as he followed the older man into the house. "Is Jeff not coming over today?" he asked to break the silence.
 
He was really trying to make an effort today. Mac had told him he should at least try to get involved more with these people and consider himself lucky to have them. Looking at her estranged family, he knew that she was right. He was lucky that this man- his biological father- had devoted thirty-two years to worrying for him. When little Annie Lewis was found, no-one came forward to claim her tiny body and no parent grieved for the death of an innocent child lost too soon.
 
Jack seemed a little surprised at his voluntary attempt to spark a conversation. "Eh, I usually see Jeff and the kids on a Sunday and occasionally I see him when I'm down in the DC office. Oh, did Sammi tell that Kester's starting nursery?"
 
"Yeah, he must be very excited."
 
"He's so smart," Jack said, proudly, "I suppose it helps that he has his own personal teacher but he's come so far."
 
There was something in Jack's voice that made Kester's accomplishments sound all the more achieving. "Far? How do you mean?"
 
"Well, when Kester was six months old he had meningitis, we didn't think he'd make it he was so sick. But he's a tough boy and he surprised us all."
 
It was odd for Harm to think that while he had his past, his real family had a past too- part of which did not include him. Oddly, he felt some sadness that he missed growing up being bullied by Sam and hero-worshipping Jeff, that he missed the births of his nieces and nephews. But he had a duty to make up for that now, or at least try to. It was time to put the hostility behind him, there was too many lost years to allow aggravation and anger blight this chance.
 
Maggie came into the living room and after hesitating for a moment, Harm gave her an affectionate hug.  "It's good to see you, Harm. How have you been?"
 
"I'm good," Harm smiled.
 
"Well, you boys have fun. I have to go see one of my young patients. There's soup on the cooker and bread in the oven if you get hungry. I'll see you soon, Harm."
 
Maggie kissed Jack then waved to Harm before leaving as swiftly as she had come. Harm wished she would come, he wasn't sure if he was ready to face Jack alone and he had the distinct feeling that was the whole point. Judging from Jack's nervous features, Harm had the feeling he too was uncertain of how to proceed.
 
After a few minutes of awkward silence, Jack spoke up. "Eh...how about we watch the game?"
 
Harm didn't care if the 'Teletubbies' were on, if television was going to protect for a few hours from the emotional talk he knew was imminent then he would gladly watch anything.
 
"Sure, that would be great."
 
The next three hours were occupied with the baseball game, little more than small talk passing between the two men. When the commercials came on, Jack disappeared, returning with three books. Harm suddenly realised they were photo albums. Sitting beside Harm on the sofa, Jack gave him a hopeful look.
 
"Would you like to see them?" he asked. "They're your baby photos and pictures taken with your sister and brother."
 
Hesitantly, Harm nodded. The curiousity was too much. When growing up, he had no real interest in his infant photos to miss them but now he needed some kind of foundation, some proof that he did exist before he came into the possession of the people he called his parents.
 
Flicking through the album, Harm scrutinised every single photograph chronicling the growth of a tiny baby with a fine, silky black hair into a mischievous toddler. Underneath each picture was his name- Ben- and the age he was when photographed. In many of the photos was a little raven-haired boy and girl he knew had to be the young Jeff and Sam. They all looked so happy together and Harm silently mourned for the time they had missed out on.
 
Finally, Jack said, "Karen, your mother, was always obsessed with taking pictures of you kids. Our camera must have been well and truly worn out by the time you came along. I think she took a picture for every time breathed. She loved you all so much. As do I."
 
The past tense when referring to his mother was not lost on Harm but he decided not to pursue it any further. He couldn't condemn Jack for hating the woman who stole his kid, Harm had begun to wonder if he too shared his father's feelings.
 
On the last page of the album Harm was looking at, he came across a blown-up, glossy photo of Jack holding him. It had the date on the bottom- July 14th 1966. A childish painting was preserved in a plastic sleeve and tucked behind the picture. Harm traced the outline of the laughing man and boy captured so many years ago.
 
"That was the last photo we have of you," Jack said, his voice choked slightly. "We had been playing soccer and you scored a goal against Jeff. You were so happy."
 
Keeping an eye on Jack, Harm opened out the picture. It was of a house with five figures standing beside it. It was a typical toddler's mess but it held so much significance. At the bottom were the printed words 'Happy Father's Day' which he had attempted to copy out.
 
Oh God, he couldn't do this...
 
Jumping up, Harm shoved the picture and photo album at Jack. "I-I have to go, this isn't right," Harm declared, backing away to the door.
 
Jack stood up, frowning. "What do you mean, Harm?"
 
"You're not my father, not any more. I have to go." Jack caught him before he could dart out the house. Harm cast pleading eyes to the man who was his father. "Please, let me go. I can't do this."
 
And Jack let him go, but not before Harm caught sight of the man's eyes and knew that he was breaking his heart into a million pieces all over again.
 
************************************************************
Harm’s Residence
Washington DC
1720 EST, May 24th
After the events of the previous day, Harm had put the visit to Jack's place out of his mind. He knew it would be difficult but all he wanted to do was forget the whole things ever happened. Life would eventually return to normal for him, and maybe even for Jack. It was a mistake to dredge up the past; sometimes it was best to let sleeping dogs lie, Harm understood that now.
 
He was absently-mindedly flicking through an old file when he was startled back to life by the incessant pounding of his door. As he stood up to open it, he wondered who it could be. He was not in Jordan's good books after not telling her first about his little discovery, and Mac had washed her hands of him when he told her he wasn't going to see Jack anymore.
 
Harm blanched when he opened the front door and found himself face-to-face with Jeff and, judging from the hardened rage burning in his brother's blue eyes, he knew this was not a social call. It didn't take a psychologist or telepathic to realise that he was not Jeff's favourite person, but today the man looked positively more pissed off that usual.
 
Barging past, Jeff stalked into Harm's apartment. Bemused, Harm just arched an eyebrow and turned to his brother. He knew this was not going to be fun.
 
"Please come in," Harm said, dryly.
 
Before he could make any other comments, Jeff moved forward and grabbed him by the collar. "You really are a little jerk, and I should have been glad when Mom took you away," he said through clenched teeth. His voice was low but that did not cushion the sting of his anger. Harm struggled slightly in Jeff's hold but the older man shook him. "Do you have any idea what you've done to Dad? What you've been doing for thirty-two years?"
 
"I made a decision, it's really not any of your business."
 
"Wrong! I'm his *son* and I've not forgotten that. If you come near him again, if you so much as hurt him by your selfish actions, I will kill you- brother or not." He shoved Harm away. "And don't bother contacting Sam or my family. You turn Dad away, you turn us all away. Maybe you really do belong with those family-wreakers."
 
With those hate-brimming words, Jeff stalked off leaving Harm stunned. He thought that breaking contact with his biological family was what he had wanted. Maybe Jeff's little visit was a good thing in a way, it was what Harm needed to truly leave Jack in the past...It was just a pity he didn't really believe that.
 
************************************************************
Jeff Carter's Residence
Washington DC
1921 EST, May 25th
"I don't believe you sometimes, Jeff, I really don't!" Jeff squirmed slightly under his sister's wrath. Sam's temper was like an unyielding hurricane. "I can't believe you said such callous, cold hearted things to our own brother."
 
When Jeff had returned home from his detour to 'darling' Baby Brother's apartment, he wasn't exactly expecting the Nobel Prize when he told his wife and sister of his visit to Ben's but he didn't think Sam would react so harshly. It had been years since she had exploded at him- the last time being when she was twenty-one and being eyed up by a kid he hated so he flashed his FBI badge at him. She hadn't spoken to him for three months after...and now he predicted he was going to see a repeat performance.
 
"Oh, Sammi-"
 
Sam stepped forward threateningly. "*Don't* call me that, Jeff, I'm not a child anymore. And how *dare* you decide what contact I am to have with Harm. He's my brother, in case you've forgotten."
 
Now she was started to ignite his temper. "Well, *excuse me*, but he's the one who has forgotten who his real family is. You saw Dad, he was devastated because that little shit decided to go back to his kidnappers."
 
"It's only been four damned weeks! What were you expecting- happy families? I'm sick and tired of you dictating how I should behave around Harm."
 
"And I'm sick and tired of you calling him by the stupid name," Jeff shot back, incensed by Sam's easy acceptance of Ben and at the world itself for allowing this all to happen in the first place. "His name is Ben."
 
Kester wandered into the kitchen, lured in by the smell of cookies and the distress of his mother. He stared wide-eyed as Sam scooped him up and headed for the door. Before she could dash away, Jeff caught her by the arm. Clutching her son tightly, Sam tearfully faced him.
 
"Quit living in the past or you're going to wreck this whole family, Jeff," she whispered. "Tomorrow I'm going to see our brother and sort this out once and for all."
 
And with that, she was gone taking Kester with her. Previously forgotten Caroline's steadfast but silent presence through the whole argument, she just moved forward and held him gently.
 
"He's the one who's going to wreck this family," Jeff muttered, hating himself for sounding like such a kid.
 
Finally Caroline spoke. "You know I love you, Jeff, and as your wife I'm letting you know it's okay to be angry but it's time you stopped acting like a jealous little boy, and deal with the fact that Ben's home."
 
Jeff just fumed at his own wife defending Ben yet more angry at himself and the truth in Caroline's statement.

************************************************************
Tickety Boo's Restaurant
Washington DC
1411 EST, May 27th
"Mommy, I'm bored," whined Kester as he fiddled with his knife and fork. "When is Unca Harm comin'?"
 
Sam was getting nervous now. She had arranged to meet Harm twenty minutes ago yet he had not made an appearance. The previous night he'd sounded rather surprised when she phoned him and invited him to join herself and Kester for lunch. Now she was worried that her ass of a brother had caused too much damaged for Harm to trust them.
 
In all honesty, Sam could not entirely blame Jeff for his cold behaviour and there was occasions when she had to force herself not to feel the same. It had been hard growing up as the sister of a kidnapped child, knowing her own mother had taken Ben and left her and Jeff behind. During the day, she had watched her father obsess over Ben's kidnapping and at night she listened to him quietly cry for his lost son. She was only five year old when Ben was taken and it was hard not to feel a little jealous of all the attention that was bestowed on her brother.
 
As the years passed, Sam often found her thoughts drifting to Ben and wondering what he was doing. Jeff was always the bossy elder brother and she felt wistful that she had missed out on the fun of bullying Ben around and protecting him from being bullied. Now that he was back- as Harm- she just wanted to make up for the years.
 
Her patience now waning, she sighed with relief when she looked up to see Harm make his way through the tables of the restaurant to take the seat opposite her.
 
"Sorry I'm late," he said with a worried smile. "I was held up in court."
 
Sam still found it ironic that he had become a lawyer when it was the law that had let them down so long ago.
 
"That's okay," Sam replied, "I was worried you wouldn't show up." From his tense expression, she knew instantly that he had considered backing out. Cursing Jeff and his insensitivity, she said, "You know, Jeff is not the lord and keeper of the family. Sure, he's my big brother and I respect his opinion but he does not speak for us."
 
"He told you out our conversation?"
 
"Yes, though he probably cleaned it up for us."
 
Harm finally graced her with a smile. Sam realised that was the first time she had seen him smile so freely and widely since she had met him. She felt as if she had accomplished something with him.
 
"So how was work?" she asked.
 
"Okay."
 
She smirked. "How is Mac?"
 
His immediate frown gave way to a faint smile. "Okay too."
 
"Caroline said you were seeing some Navy psychiatrist called Jordan. Is it serious?"
 
"Do you all have obsessions with my love life?"
 
"Of course we do." She smiled at Kester who was playing swords with his breadsticks on the table of his highchair. "Have you spoken to Dad yet? " Sam didn't want to push this but they had to talk about it at some point.
 
Harm looked away sullenly. "No."
 
"Are you going to?"
 
"I don't know."
 
"He's your father, Harm, he loves you."
 
"No, *my* father is dead, he died ten years ago in Russia."
 
God, he was so damned stubborn. Sam would have given anything to have Harm call her father 'Dad' and acknowledge he was a full-fledged member of the Carter family. If only he could see it from her view how alike they were, both psychically and emotionally, then he would not be so quick to disparage his blood link.
 
"So, is that it?" Sam demanded. "You walk away again?"
 
Harm fidgeted in his seat. To avoid the question, he instead grinned at Kester. "What are you doing there, Kester?"
 
The toddler beamed at him. "Playing knights." He stared solemnly at his uncle. "Unca Harm, do you not like G'andpa anymore?"
 
"Of course,  I like your Grandpa."
 
What could he say to the kid? Harm knew Sam was watching him for a reaction and had she been Jeff, he would have assumed she had put Kester up to asking that precarious question. But he had the feeling that Sam would never sink that low as to involve her little boy in an adult conflict.
 
"Then why don't you speak to him?" asked the child.
 
How could he respond to that? Kester just saw him as another uncle, he was far too young to fully understand the situation of Harm's relationship to him. In many ways, that was what Harm liked so much about Kester and his other nieces and nephews. They accepted him without expecting too much, too soon. Sam was much the same in that respect; she never forced him to give what he couldn't give at the moment.
 
"Eh...Well, Kester..."
 
Luckily, Sam interjected when she saw he was uncomfortable. "Honey-"
 
Suddenly she was cut off when a deafening boom thundered through the restaurant, a white flash blinding the patrons. People were screaming, grabbing at their sobbing children as they stampeded for the exits. The fire alarm shrilled through the establishment and a young suited man, who appeared to be the manager, was trying to ward people to the doors.
 
Harm and Sam were already on their feet, wincing as pieces of plaster and ceiling beams rained down. They coughed as the dust and smoke clogged their lungs. Harm caught his sister's eyes for a brief moment, taking in her dusty white hair that was usually raven.
 
"Mommy!"
 
It was Kester's petrified cries that jolted them back from the shock. He was squirming fearfully in his highchair, crying at the chaos and hysterical mob.
 
"Oh my God, Kester!"
 
It was then Harm noticed the little boy's shirt was stained crimson. Blood, Kester's blood. Sam, startled by the fact her child was hurt and she could not see the severity of the injury, was making a frenzied attempt to haul her son from the highchair heedless of the harnesses securing the toddler.
 
Harm's military training took hold. He grabbed Sam by the shoulders and shook her to rationality.
 
"Stop it, Sam! You're scaring Kester." At his words, she calmed slightly as he had predicted. Her eyes were still dilated with the naked fear of a troubled mother, but she ceased her struggles. "Get out of here, get out now. I'll get Kester."
 
"No, I'm not leaving him."
 
"Go now, Sam. You're wasting time!"
 
The restaurant was practically vacated now. Pushing Sam in the general direction of the exit, Harm began to swiftly unhook his nephew from the harnesses. His heart broke at Kester's pitiful whimpering but he did not have the time to comfort him. The thick haze of smoke was blinding and Harm could barely see three foot in front of him as he was forced to blink repetitively to relieve his stinging eyes. He could feel the temperature rise dramatically from the fire coupled their own adrenaline making the heat intense. Debris fell  from the roof and the sprinklers were little relief to the violent conditions.
 
"Time to run, Kes," Harm whispered to Kester, who was cowering in a fetal ball in his arms.
 
Harm was forced to slow his pace as the thick black smoke hampered his senses. The spreading fire, scorching his lungs was quickly swallowing up the oxygen. When he heard Kester coughing and wheezing, he hugged his nephew closer into him knowing the child's lungs were far more vulnerable than his. Flames had engulfed the tables behind him, crackling ominously, and he knew he had very little time left before it engulfed him.
 
Coughing, he made his way blindly to the exit. The burning flames was enveloping the walls and ceiling easily and Harm was forced to drop to his knees and crawl awkwardly as he clasped the weight of a now bawling three-year-old. Plaster and beams now cascaded from the ceiling, threatening to batter onto the man and boy and the smoke pervaded every corner of the banquette room.
 
Harm was now gasping for breath, wincing as he inhaled the super-heated air of the flames. The roar of the fire was deafening now as it crept closer, but Harm could hear the sirens of emergency vehicles approaching...though not fast enough. He was blind, deaf and wheezing yet he refused to give up when Kester's life depended on him. Sam had entrusted her son to him and he was damned if he was to let her down, he couldn't do that again.
 
Groping the carpet, now running on auto-pilot when he felt the cool breeze of fresh air in front on him. It gave him a new burst of energy. Harm was suddenly able to see the light of the outdoors as they approached the doors when suddenly his head exploded in violent agony as a beam bashed down onto his neck and skull. An overwhelming need to vomit tightened his stomach and he was winded as he collapsed to the floor heavily, squashing Kester.
 
He barely felt Kester being pulled from under him and strong arms hauling into the beautiful fresh air. He heard Sam calling to him gently, trying to coax him into increased awareness but his grip on consciousness swayed as he gave way to the painless black oblivion.
 
************************************************************
Georgetown Medical Centre
Washington DC
1930 EST, May 26th
Someone forced his eye open and flashed a bright light at him. He squirmed and moaned softly. Why were they harassing him? He was tired, all he wanted to do was sleep. Just as he thought he was getting his respite, someone shook him slightly. He felt himself scowling, swallowing his nausea. His head was pounding and he wished he could be left in peace.
 
"Come along, wake up, Commander. You have to open your eyes."
 
He moved his head away from the sound, becoming increasingly aware of his searing throat and heavy chest.

Another voice spoke, this time familiar. "Harm, wake up. Open your eyes."

His eyes fluttered open, everything a blurry white. He didn't know where he was or what was happening.
 
"Wha...?" he croaked, wincing in pain. Gradually his eyes focused on Mac and a young nurse. He glanced around and realised he was lying in a hospital bed, attached to monitors. "What happened?" His voice was little more than a whisper.
 
"Try not to talk, Commander," the nurse order gently, "your throat was irritated by the smoke."
 
Smoke? It was then it hit him with striking clarity. The fire in the restaurant, Samantha and Kester, trying to escape. He struggled to sit up, desperate to know if his nephew was alive, but his efforts were hampered by the firm grasp of the nurse and Mac who held him down easily.
 
"Kester...? He's okay?" he demanded to know.
 
"Kester is fine," Mac assured. "He's resting at in the kids' ward, he got off better than you." She fed him a few ice chips to ease his throat. "You saved him Harm, if it hadn't been for you he probably would have died."
 
Harm collapsed back into the pillows, spent. He had never felt so relieved now that he knew his little nephew was safe. He would have done the same for anyone, especially a child, but he had experienced a strange determination when he was trying to protect Kester from the flames. It suddenly dawned on him that he actually cared- *loved*- this little kid and his mother and in the short weeks he had known them, he had formed a attachment, or a bond for lack of a better word, for them.
 
His father used to tell him that 'acquaintances are fine, friends can be close but family is forever.' As a little boy, he never understood what it meant, but now everything was clear and he knew from personal experience that his father- the man that had raised him- spoke the truth. He sighed wearily. As he slipped back into sleep, he pondered over what this realisation meant for him.
 
Mac watched her partner fall back into a deep slumber, now able to fully relax knowing that he was on his way to a full recovery. These past few weeks had been an emotional rollercoaster for Harm and today had brought things to a head. When Harm had saved Kester, almost killing himself in the process, both his families had descended onto the hospital. Of course, it was like asking Heaven and Hell to form an alliance with both parties arguing among themselves over whose fault the whole incident was.
 
The whole Carter clan had arrived at the hospital just a few minutes after her, apparently responding immediately when Sam had called them. Despite worry and anguish, it had been relatively peaceful for a few hours until Tricia and Frank Burnett came on the scene. Chedwiggen had called them after being informed by the hospital, and Tricia had taken the first flight out to be with her son.
 
The moment Jack and Jeff set eyes upon her, the atmosphere went straight to hell. The only rational people in the waiting room were Maggie and Caroline- Sam was with Kester in the children's ward and even Jeff's four kids had been influenced by their father's loathing of Tricia Rabb.
 
The nurse jotted a few notes in Harm's chart then looked up at Mac. "I'm sorry, Ma'am, visiting hours are over for the night."
 
"Is he going to be okay?" Mac asked, her eyes on her sleeping partner.
 
"He's going to be fine. A few more days of observation and he'll be ready to leave the hospital." Mac sighed in relief. She stood up, reluctantly. When the nurse saw her hesitation, she looked up from the chart and smiled. "He's going to be okay, but I do think you should go into the waiting room and prevent World War Three from breaking out."
 
"You heard all that."
 
"I think you could hear all that commotion from Pluto."
 
************************************************************
"This is all your fault."
 
Jack's normally placid blue eyes turned glacial as he glowered at Tricia Rabb. His mother had always taught him to treat women with respect but at this very moment, his finger was itching towards his gun. Judging from his son's mirroring glare of rage, he too was fighting the impulse to commit murder.
 
"My fault?" Jack repeated with an incredulous tone. "My fault?! I'm not the baby thief, the one who can't even have her own kids so she kidnaps another man's child." He moved closer to Tricia, drawing up his height as a tool of intimidation. Frank Burnett and Maggie stepped forward, ready to separate them. "Maybe there's a reason why you couldn't have kids; God doesn't want you to spread your evil genes to another generation. Lord knows why Karen wasn't afflicted with your condition too. You're both as sick as each other."
 
The resounding of smack of Tricia's hand slapping Jack's echoed through the room. Everyone blinked, stunned at what just happened. Jack just brought a hand up to rub his face gently.
 
"Harm doesn't want to see you," Tricia scowled. "Why can't you just take the hint and leave us alone?"

In a low, fierce voice, Jack said, "Ben is *my* son and you can't take that away from me. I'm not leaving him alone because that's what you forced me to do all those years ago. I hate you with all my heart, Tricia, but I'm willing to accept you for Harm's sake. But try and stop me from at least speaking to him and you'll regret it."
 
"What are you going to do? Shoot me?"
 
"No, but your Dear Old Daddy is dead now, no longer in power to corrupt justice and the rights of a father. *I'm* the one with all the backing in court now and remember, there is no statue of limitations on kidnapping."
 
The threat was enough to shut things up for a little while, but not for long...
 
************************************************************
Georgetown Medical Centre
Washington DC
0720 EST, May 27th
Harm's lungs were heavy, his eyes were stinging, his throat was scratchy...and his head was aching. Not from the concussion but from all the bickering surrounding him. It was clear from his mother's threats and Jack's shouts that they were both arguing with the nurses over who should be allowed to visit him. It was ridiculous, they sounded like two parents fighting for the custody of their little kid.
 
Groaning, Harm smothered his face with a pillow in a vain attempt to block out the noise. He didn't even look up when he heard the door open and someone slip into his room. Another nurse, or if the fates were going to be cruel then it was probably Jeff coming in to strangle him.
 
"Suffocating yourself won't make them go away," Mac's amused voice said, sounding muffled through the pillow.
 
Harm shoved the pillow to the side and glowered at his partner. "Please shoot them, mow them down, whatever," he pleaded, "I won't tell anyone. I don't think I can take anymore of them arguing."
 
"It could be worse...I don't know how but it could be."
 
Harm didn't answer. Throughout this whole ordeal, he had been calm and reserved like a good Naval officer's son should be- 'stand tough and keep your head up, son,' his father always used to say- only he wasn't a Naval officer's son. And now his temper was fraying.
 
Pulling the IV from his arm, wincing as he did so, Harm sat up and after releasing the bed rails, he swung his legs around to the floor. Mac was momentarily startled but quickly jumped into action, trying futilely to push him back down. Harm pushed her hands away.
 
"No, Mac, I can't take this anymore. I have to get away from them. Can you get my clothes? I'm going home."
 
"But, Harm, you're sick, you need to be in a hospital."
 
Harm shook his head. "No, what I need is peace and to be away from them. I need time." His blue eyes fused with her deep brown. "Please, Mac, do this for me. Get rid of them for a few minutes so I can get out of here."
 
Mac sighed then nodded. "You know I'll do anything for you. Where are you going to be?"
 
"I'm going to see Sarah."
 
************************************************************
Georgetown Medical Centre
Washington DC
1011 EST, May 27th
"I demand to see my son. NOW!"
 
Tricia Rabb was fed-up of being kept from her son's side for a moment longer. She wanted to go to him and hold like she always did when he was sick as a little boy. On a much deeper level, she wanted to attest her maternal bonds and keep Harm away from Jack. Normally, she was a very rational woman but the minute Jack re-entered her life, all she could think about was losing Harm for good.
 
The young nurse looked little older than a teenager but she held her ground. "I'm sorry, Ma'am, but you can't see Commander Rabb at this time."
 
"I have a lawyer, you know."
 
"Yes, everybody in this city seems to have a lawyer but that won't let you get into that room. This is a hospital not a court room."
 
Jack snorted in amusement and Trish glowered at him. From just hearing them, one would have assumed that it was two small children fighting over a favourite toy instead of two middle-aged adults battling for the affections of their grown-up son. Trish was more than aware how pathetic it all was but she could bare losing out to Jack. Her son, her life, was at stake.
 
Her son's partner, Mac, had practically dragged them all down to the cafeteria to give the poor medical staff on Harm's ward a break. It had been like two camps stalking each other; her and Frank versus Jack and his family. This idea was emphasised again in the hallway outside Harm's room now when Jack was joined by his daughter and young grandson, who had just been released from the hospital.
 
"Where's Harm?" Sam asked, squeezing her little boy to her.
 
The child was still slightly pale but looked well on his way to recovery. What nearly made Tricia gasp was the fact that the little boy- Kester- looked so much like Harm when he was a toddler. Kester had the same thick dark hair and sparkling blue eyes filled with mischief. But then, this boy *was* her son's nephew...
 
"They won't let us in to see him," Jack replied. He tousled his grandson's hair. "How's it going, Kes?"
 
"'Kay, G'andpa."
 
"Good boy. Maybe when your Uncle Harm gets better, we can all go get some ice cream together. Would you like that?"
 
"Yeah," grinned the boy, clapping his hands in delight.
 
Jeff just rolled his eyes. "By the time we get to even see Harm, we'll probably all be on our pensions and eating the ice cream with our false teeth."
 
Tricia had to agree with him. When the hell were these medical types going to allow her to see her own son? She had only been allowed to see him for a brief period the previous night, not long after he had been admitted. He was so pale and weak, and it frightened her to the core to see all the monitors and machines attached to him.
 
Mac walked into the hallway, shutting the door to Harm's room. It still vexed Tricia that this young woman could see Harm but she could not. "You're not getting to see Harm because he's gone." At their collective gasps and stares of fright, Mac looked reproachful and rephrased, "What I mean is, Harm's discharged himself. He's no longer in the hospital."
 
"What?" both Tricia and Jack uttered in shock.
 
"Harm said he would find sleeping in a kindergarten classroom has to be more restful than sleeping with you lot fighting outside,"  was their blunt reply.
 
Sam glared at her father and Tricia. "Well, are you two happy now? Behaving like a pair of kids has just drove Harm further away from us." Tricia's eyes narrowed at being scolded by the young woman she still looked on as a child but Sam was no longer looking at her. Her gaze was now scrutinising Mac. "Is he even well enough to be out of hospital?"
 
Mac frowned. "I don't know, he was so determined to get out of here that I barely had time to question him."
 
"Do you know where he is?" Jeff asked, scowling.
 
"Perhaps."
 
"Would you tell us?"
 
"No."
 
Jeff was startled by Mac's curt answer but any attempts to interrogate her was cut off by his wife's cold warning stare. To Tricia's surprise, Jack didn't seem about to question Mac further and instead he appeared to be lost in thought. For her part, she could not believe her son had run off on them. Never in all his years had he been so blatantly cut-off from her. Looking back at her behaviour over the last twenty-four hours, she didn't blame Harm. She and Jack had argued over him like he was an object, not a thirty-four-year-old man with his own views and opinions. She had Harm for so long and she wasn't sure if she would able to, but maybe it *was* time for her to let go a little...
 
************************************************************
Karwell Airfield
Virginia
1330 EST, May 28th
Jack watched the tall, young man tinkering with the small aeroplane. Despite his injuries from the fire, Jack smiled and had to admit the boy looked good. Harm held himself as if he was in some pain but this was the most content he had seen him since their first meeting. Jack approached his son slowly, stopping a mere few feet away from him, not willing to intimidate or crowd him. He and Tricia had already made that mistake once.
 
"How d'you find me?" Harm didn't turn from the plane as he spoke.
 
Jack smiled. "I *am* an FBI Assistant Director in my spare time..." He moved close to Harm until they were standing side-by-side. The older man took a paper bag from his jacket pocket and handed it to his son. "You forgot your medication. The doctors were pretty pissed 'til I said I'd bring them."
 
Harm tossed the bag into the plane's cockpit. "Gee, thanks," he muttered sarcastically.
 
Jack paused then sighed wearily. He had been doing that a lot lately. Maggie would have a fit if she had been able to take his blood pressure through all this emotional turmoil- he was a prime candidate for a coronary. But then, from studying Harm's stiff posture and ice cold eyes, he could tell he was not the only one ready for stress therapy.
 
"Well, boy, I suppose your mother and I have made quite a mess of this whole situation, huh?" There was no reply. "I guess I shouldn't have just dumped the truth on you like this."
 
"Yes, I guess you could say that," Harm retorted sharply. He swallowed, inhaling a calming deep breath. "No, that's wrong...I just wish...I dunno, that the truth was *not* true." He shrugged. "If you know what I mean."
 
"I have an idea...It wasn't easy thinking of a way to tell you what happened. When Peter told me that he met you, it was all I could do to stop myself from running over to your house straightaway. It was Maggie that persuaded me to take time for both our sakes."
 
"How long have you been married?"
 
"Twenty-seven years, I went through the courts to divorced Karen, your mother, for desertion."
 
"Why didn't you and Maggie have any children of your own?" Harm must have seen Jack's discomfort for he shook his head slightly. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to."
 
"We...we didn't have any children because I don't think I could have handled it. I couldn't trust anyone with my child again, not to mention I devoted much of my time trying to get your adoption annulled by the courts."
 
It had been one of the happiest days in his life, Jack recalled, when he was finally rid of the bitch who had stolen his son and wrecked not just his life but the lives of their other two children. He was free to marry the woman whom he loved and cherished and who he knew was able to reciprocate those emotions. Nevertheless, how could he and Maggie ever have a child when he could never trust a woman not to run off again? It wasn't that he didn't trust Maggie, it was just sometimes his feelings of dubiousness and hatred for Karen were too much for him. Besides, the idea of bringing another child into the world who would not get to know his or her elder brother hurt like hell, and he could never lay that hurt on Maggie and the kids.
 
It was time to take this conversation onto lighter ground. There had been too much pain already. "So, why haven't you graced me with some grandkiddies?" Jack smirked. "After all, you've got your shrink girlfriend and you seem awfully close to your partner."
 
"For the same reasons as you, I guess." At Jack's questioning look, Harm continued, "I devoted much of my time to finding my father...the man I thought was my father."
 
"Yes, it seems we've both spent a lot of our time looking to the past, huh, boy?"
 
"Yeah, it looks that way." There was a pause. "What do you want to do about it?"
 
"I think we should both move forward. The question is, do we moved forward together...or separately?" It was the hardest thing Jack had ever said, giving his son the choice of walking out of his life forever, but the decision had to be Harm's. His baby Ben was gone now, he had accepted that, and now he had to accept that his son was now called Harm and that he was an adult.
 
Harm regarded him thoughtfully. Then, ever so slowly, he held his hand out. "I...I would like to move together. As a family."
 
Jack quickly took his son's hand, clasping it tightly, then enveloped Harm into an embrace. *Thank you for bringing my son back,*  was all he could think.
 
His son smiled broadly, warming Jack's heart. He notched his head to his plane. "Ever been flying?"
 
An image sprang to mind. His little Ben was grinning at him mischievously as jumped and galloped around in the backyard. He shouted to him, telling me he was an aeroplane. Jack had hoisted the toddler into his arms and swooped him up and down. Ben had laughed so joyfully, then proclaimed to his daddy that he wanted to be a jet when he was 'big'.
 
Maybe little Ben was not entirely gone.
 
************************************************************
Jack Carter’s Residence
Baltimore
1200 EST, June 31st
"How's the Birthday Boy enjoying his party?" Sam teased her brother.
 
Harm just rolled his eyes, then smiled knowingly. "I must be the only person in the world who celebrates his thirty-fifth birthday twice. Does this mean I get two lots of presents now? One set for my June birthday and another for my October birthday."
 
The whole family had gathered to celebrate Harm's real birthday for the first time in thirty-three years. It had been silently established that his June birthday would be for them and them alone while his October birthday was a day he would commemorate with Tricia.
 
"I want two birthdays too, Mommy!" Kester called, grinning cheekily at them, his little face smeared with chocolate birthday cake.
 
Sam pulled her son closer. After witnessing the effect the 'gift' of Harm having two birthdays had on the family, she was just thankful for her normal, one-birthday-a-year son. With the resilience of a small child, Kester had recovered quickly from the trauma of the fire and it was nothing but a faint memory for her son. However, for the rest of the family, the repercussions of the fire and the aftermath was something they were working on. Much to her father's joy, his relationship with Harm was rapidly improving. As for her, she was eternally grateful to Harm for saving her son at risk to his own life. The whole incident had only served to enhance their bond.
 
"I'm sorry, honey," Sam said to Kester, "but you only have one birthday."
 
Kester pondered over this. "Unca Harm gets two 'cause he's special, huh, Mommy?"
 
"That's right, Kes. He's special."
 
To push away the sombre atmosphere that had quickly developed at the child's innocent statement, Harm dived down to scoop Kester into his strong arms. "Well, how about you help me open some presents instead?"
 
The boy worshipped his new uncle and loved the extra attention Harm bestowed onto him. Jeff was more than willing to provide a male role-model for Kester but he had his four own children to think of and a hectic job, and it was a struggle to even get Kester's real father to pay child support let alone fly across from his precious job in Japan to see his son. However, Harm seemed to enjoy his new role in Kester's life, and Sam was happy that a bridge was building through Kester bring Harm closer to the family.
 
Sam's blue eyes drifted over scene before her. Harm was chatting to Remy and Annika with Kester perched on his knee; her father, Maggie and Caroline were cutting up the cake and bringing out more food while the twins- Madison and Macaulay- were arguing over their Gameboy. It was just Jeff that seemed apart from all the bustle.
 
Though Jeff and Harm behaved civilly when each other's company, the fight they had a few days before the fire still hung in the air- Jeff's stinging words neither forgiven nor forgotten. It was hurting them both, and as their sister she had to fix it. They were both too equally stubborn to make the first move.
 
She moved closer to her elder brother, who was standing in a corner as silent as she had ever seen him. Sam just put a comforting hand on his arm and said, "Go talk to him, Jeffy. For Ben's sake and for yours."
 
************************************************************
The day was getting on and as the partying gradually lulled, Harm felt the need for a little privacy. He wasn't used to the whole 'big-family' thing and found it somewhat stifling at times, although he would not trade it for anything. He discovered that a couple of days ago when it was found his nightblindness had been incorrectly diagnosed and the opportunity to fly was presented to him once again. Instead, he gave up that chance to return to active duty to get to know his rediscovered family.
 
Now, he found himself sitting in the attic of Jack's house. He had never revealed to Jack, for fear of arising the man's spirits too high, but he did have some memory of this house. It was little more than flashes here and there from the mind of a two-year-old but it was enough to bring familiarity to him. One thing he could recall was playing Hide And Seek in the attic with his brother and sister, all the nooks and crannies providing an excellent place to explore for any toddler.
 
Perusing around the attic aimlessly, his eye caught sight a large cardboard box with 'Ben' written in thick black pen on the side. For a moment he felt as if he were intruding until he remembered he *was* Ben. Uncertainly, he moved to the box and opened the flaps. He found tiny clothes folded up inside- little dungarees and shorts and shirts- which he held up. They were so cute but the poignant way they were carefully packed away made Harm feel as if they belonged to a dead little boy. And, in a way, Ben had died when he was two.
 
Also, in the box were old toys and picture books carefully preserved no doubt by Jack. Sam had told him it had taken Jack six years before he finally packed up his things from his bedroom- he would have been eight years old at the time, living innocently tucked away from the truth.
 
At the very bottom of the box, Harm came across a small box wrapped in cheery Christmas paper of little Santas and snowmen. On the tag, it said 'To Ben, Happy Christmas, Love your Daddy' and it was dated 1966.
 
"Dad bought that for you the Christmas you went missing." Harm spun around, still clutching the parcel, to find Jeff standing there regarding him dubiously. "He thought you might come back so he could give it to you...but you never did."
 
This was just great, Jeff coming up to chew him out a new six. Whenever he was alone with his elder brother, the man took the opportunity to burden him with the guilt and anger his abduction had brought to everyone. Harm had tried to make allowances for him; hell, the guy was only seven when Harm was taken, it must have been hell. He himself knew the difficulties in carrying on life when a loved one had just vanished- there was no finality. When a child- or anyone for that matter- died, the family was left with grief but could usually pick up the pieces after mourning, when a child disappeared no-one could more on as a little voice was always crying to be found.
 
"It wasn't my fault." Harm blinked in surprise. He didn't know where that had come from only that he sounded like a huffy little brat. Maybe he was just sick of be expected to give something- feel some emotion- for an event he had no say in.
 
Jeff raised an eyebrow, also surprised to see the change in Harm's normally placid demeanour. "Yes, well, it wasn't ours either."

What the hell did he mean by that? Of course, Harm didn't blame them. He must have looked puzzled for Jeff said, "Oh, I see it in your eyes every time you look at us. We lost you and we found you, and you don't like that."
 
"Hey, this is hard for me. You at least knew the truth, knew who you were. I thought I was Harmon Rabb then along comes Jack and I find out my whole damn life is a lie."
 
"You're not the only one this is hard on, Ben," Jeff retorted, enraged. His voice lulled slightly. "Do you know what it was like for Dad? He lost his wife and baby son. How do you think me and Sammi felt to know our mother left us? To know she abandoned us?" His voice was now little more than a whisper. "We were young too, and we were growing up motherless. You have no idea what it's like telling people your own mother dumped you."
 
"That wasn't my fault."
 
The truth was, he hadn't really thought about it that way. Harm just assumed that Jeff and Sam all wondered over the whereabouts of their little brother, but he forgot that they also had to deal with the fact their mother had just ran out on them. How does a child deal with such a thing?
 
"No...no, it wasn't...but it wasn't ours either and despite what you want, you are who you are." Jeff's eyes drifted to the Ben box. "I should have been home that day, y'know? Dad knew Mom was not over the attack and he wanted me to stay with her. But I wanted to play baseball and the minute he left for work, I went off to play."
 
"You were just seven, you couldn't control her. And I...I shouldn't have just let myself fall into that new life, I shouldn't have made things so easy for my mom and dad."
 
Jeff smiled faintly. "You were just two, you didn't know shit."
 
Harm studied him. When he was little he had always dreamed of having a big brother to protect him and teach him sports, and now his dream had been realised. When he looked at Jeff, he could almost see himself. They shared the same dark hair and square-jaws. But they had both lived without a brother for so long...could they ever really accept each other?
 
"I can leave. I don't have to come back."
 
"No," Jeff said sharply, his eyes now riveted on Harm's. "That would kill Dad." Good Jeff, always thinking about the welfare of his father. Sometimes Harm wondered who was the father and who was the son out of the pair. Jeff sighed. "And...Ben, you were a little crap and I doubt anything has changed over the years." He smirked. "Little brothers are always little craps. But I could get used to having you around. I think I already have, Ben, and I'm not just saying this on Dad's behalf."
 
Harm nodded. If Jeff could work at this, then he was willing to try and make a go to re-salvage their relationship. They were brothers, they had to.
 
"Come on, lets go down," Jeff said. "We're going to sound like a Hallmark card if we carry on with all this mush."
 
Harm smiled, and the two brothers moved towards the stairs. Just then, Harm stopped suddenly and turned to Jeff. "Can you just do me one favour, Jeff?"
 
Jeff frowned suspiciously. "Sure...what?"
 
"Just remember my name isn't Ben any longer."
 
"Okay then." The older man then smirked maliciously. "Hey, I'll call you Pipsqueak instead. That *was* your old nickname."
 
Harm just shook his head in resignation. Theirs was sure to be a turbulent relationship that was probably never going to be easy. Harm knew that the day he met the moody man who was his brother. But then who said family was ever easy?
 
 
                                                    THE END
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I got this idea from reading all the 'The X-Files' fan fiction where Mulder has other brothers/sisters who have been kidnapped/abducted/adopted or where the CSM is really his father. I thought it would be interesting to look at an alternative to Harm's 'perfect' family. After all, we saw from 'The Ghosts Of Christmas Past' that Harm's father was not exactly a saint. Harm has always worshipped his father and I just couldn't resist writing a story that would mess with his head.

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