Gratitude
Part Four
Seeing her head rise, Sturgis immediately shifted his gaze to the door, too quickly for Mac to catch the flash of concern in his eyes. Bud, a man never known for tact and discretion, was still staring openly at her. He looked, Mac thought with amusement, like a gaping fish. She considered looking away again before he realized he was staring and became embarrassed, but quickly discarded the idea. It was the first time since Harm had been gone that he had really looked at her and she would not be the first to break the contact. As she sat with her eyes locked on his face, she felt the ache in her heart push a little harder in her chest. She had been so focused on controlling her emotions, locking out the disturbing echoes of her time in Paraguay, and trying desperately to pretend that her shattered relationship with Harm wasn’t tearing at her soul, that she had ignored her relationships with her friends. A sinking feeling settled in her gut as she realized that she wasn’t sure they still wanted to be considered her friends.
The stabbing pain of that thought caused her breath to hitch and her heart to race. They were angry with her, so very angry. She had known that since the first day she reported to JAG without Harm, when she had overheard Jen and Tiner ranting to each other about how ungrateful she was after everything Harm had given up for her. She hadn’t said anything to them, slipping away before they noticed her, but she had seen the same sentiment expressed in the faces and voices of everyone she had come in contact with since. They didn’t understand why she was behaving so badly to Harm. They wanted an explanation. When they didn’t get it, they had turned away. And she had been so hurt, and so angry with them for refusing to consider her side of things, that she had pretended that she didn’t care. If she didn’t matter to them, she had decided, they wouldn’t matter to her. Now, sitting here across the table, the distance between them greater than when she had been on the other side of the world, she realized how very wrong she was.
They still mattered. They mattered so much. And it was devastating to realize that it wasn’t enough anymore. For any of them. The damage had been done and it looked to be irreparable. Realizing this, she tore her gaze from Bud before he noticed her returning his stare. She couldn’t take the chance that he would see her pain. Or the chance that he would reject it, reject her. Tears stung her eyes and she fought not to let them escape. She had lost them all, and each one had taken a piece of her with them. They had given her a better family than her parents ever could. But just like her parents, they had walked away. Or she had pushed them away. She just didn’t know anymore. She didn’t know anything. How could she explain her behavior to them, to Harm, when she couldn’t explain it herself. Damn it! Why the hell couldn’t she just figure out what was wrong? Why was she still trapped in Paraguay? Why was she acting like nothing had happened when every moment was still a struggle to breathe? Why hadn’t she been happy to see Harm when he burst through the door of that torture chamber to rescue her? Why had she been so damn angry with him? Why was a part of her still angry with him? Why couldn’t she just thank him for saving her?
Her swirling thoughts came to a standstill with the sound of the conference room door opening. Snapping to attention, she carefully avoided the Admiral’s gaze as he moved to sit at the head of the table. She didn’t want him to notice how precariously she was balanced on the edge of control. Her emotions were swinging erratically from one extreme to the other. She went from numbingly calm to completely enraged with little or no provocation. The scene with the Admiral had proven that. Even now, she knew that if she looked at him and saw the slightest emotion in his eyes, positive or negative, her anger would most likely explode. He was wrong. She maintained that conviction no matter what kind of emotions were filling her. He had made the wrong decision by denying Harm the right to go after her, and he had compounded it by refusing to let Harm back at JAG. But right or wrong, he was still her commanding officer, and she was forced by duty to show him respect. At the very least, she should keep her mouth shut and not make things worse. He could still end her career. And right now, her career was the only thing keeping her afloat. It was the only thing she had left.
Mac reached down to her core and summoned the discipline to lock down the words and emotions swamping her. She called upon all of her Marine Corps training and by the time the Admiral got around to discussing her cases, she knew she was once again presenting the image of the in control Colonel once again. She did her best to spend the meeting with her eyes and ears open. And her mouth shut, answering questions only when absolutely necessary. By the time the meeting ended and the Admiral had dismissed them, she felt in control once again. She was, after all, a Marine, and a Marine never showed weakness. That had been her motto the moment she joined the Corps. It had carried her this far and it would get her past her current obstacles. She would do her job so well that no one would have room to criticize. She would master these bizarre flashbacks and keep them from returning. She would move on alone, just as she had always known she would have to. And most importantly, she would get over Harmon Rabb.
She remained at the table waiting for the others to exit the room and let her newly recovered confidence flow through her. ‘I can do this. I will do this’ she vowed silently as she stood to exit the room. For herself and by herself, she would fix her life. And as she turned to the door and saw Bud and Sturgis talking to the Admiral, she swore that she would close off her heart to all of them. Her gaze fixed on them; she thought to herself that none of them would ever see her bleed again. However, even as she was making that promise to herself, all of her carefully constructed controls were swept away as the violent images once again took hold.
Blood. Blood everywhere. On the Admiral. On Sturgis and Bud. It was on their hands and their shirts. And the woman was screaming again. Her screams were echoing through the room. My name. Someone’s calling my name. A man. Clay? No, Clay calls me Sarah now. Whoever’s calling to me is calling me Mac. Who is it? Who’s calling me? What’s happening? Where is all of the blood coming from?
She tore her mind away from the images flooding through her. Sucking in a deep breath, she forced herself under control and rushed out the door to the sanctuary of her office. Intent on reaching her destination before she broke down under the strain, she never noticed the man still standing near the conference room door. Even if she had noticed she wouldn’t have thought anything of it. She didn’t think anyone was paying any attention to her these days. As she hurried blindly passed, the puzzlement on the man’s face turned to concern. He had noticed something was wrong after the other two officers had left. He had watched her face take on an expression of blind terror, then watched it slide from her as she visibly forced herself to regain control over whatever she had just experienced. And he had watched as she dashed from the room like the hounds of hell were at her heels. Now alone in the conference room, he debated whether or not to follow her. He decided against it. He knew she reacted like a wounded animal when cornered. And considering the way she had been treated since her return, he knew she would greet any sign of concern with suspicion. He was concerned, though. Colonel Mackenzie was still his friend, he had just needed to see her obvious distress to be reminded of what a good friend she was. Now, he just needed to remind her of the same thing. And if he couldn’t convince her, he would go to Harm and force him to find out the truth even if he had to personally kick the man’s six from Union Station to Georgetown to do it. She might not realize it yet, but someone was now paying close attention to Sarah Mackenzie.
Mac’s anger carried her across the bullpen and into the conference room. It sustained her as she marched to her customary seat next to the admiral. It held on as she set her files on the table and gracefully lowered herself into her chair. But it faltered when she dared to glance up at the officers staring at her from across the table. She knew they were all shocked by her attitude towards the Admiral. They might have expected something like that from Harm, but not from Mac. Especially since they believed she didn’t really care that Harm was gone.