The Next Conflicting Phase
Part Twenty-Five
�Commander Rabb, reporting as ordered, sir,� he said, somewhat breathlessly. AJ gestured for him to take a seat.
�At ease.�
As Harm moved to his normal seat in front of the Admiral�s desk, he began to apologize profusely. �Sir, I�m sorry I�m late-�
AJ cut him off with a dismissive wave of his hand. �Don�t worry about it, Commander. Mac called to let me know what was going on,� he reassured Harm. �I just need the report on the Cragen case so I can update SecNav.�
�Yes, sir.� Harm leaned over and picked up his briefcase, quickly digging through the papers until he found the correct file, and handed it to the Admiral.
AJ flipped open the folder and took a cursory glance at its contents. The pages were a little creased, there were a couple of grammatical errors, and Harm�s handwritten notes were messier than usual, but it was still legible so AJ decided to let it slide. He could see from the dark circles under Harm�s eyes and the deep frown lines that the younger man was having a difficult time dealing with everything, especially considering this latest complication.
Mac�s phone call earlier had been to inform him that her doctors weren�t allowing her to drive herself to appointments, so Harm needed to take her and pick her up. Apparently, she was suffering from more than the normal fatigue and stiffness experienced by most women going through radiation. When he pressed her further, she had admitted to AJ that she was suffering other, more painful, side effects that were causing further problems, which was the real reason Harm was late arriving that day. From what he could gather from her necessarily vague explanations about her treatments, Mac was experiencing some pretty painful burning at the site of the radiation, and she and Harm had spent an hour this morning in conference with the various doctors and techs discussing what to do if the burning got worse. She had assured him that she didn�t think it would be a problem, but looking at Harm now, AJ got the feeling that might be more wishful thinking on her part than anything else.
In addition to looking dead tired, Harm also looked...defeated, as if the endless parade of doctors and tests and complications had finally worn him down completely. It worried AJ to see him like this, but he didn�t know what he should do about it. Normally if Harm was upset, he would assume that Mac would take care of it, but he had the feeling that Harm wasn�t allowing her to see just how much of a toll this was taking on him as well. He would try to protect her, which normally wouldn�t matter because she�d just see through it and call him on it. But if her treatments were causing her this much trouble, he wasn�t sure if she would be able to see beyond the mask Harm had put up; and even if she did, she might not have the energy to push her way past it to get Harm to open up about what was upsetting him. Which left it up to AJ, if he could just figure out the best way to handle it.
He thought about just being blunt, but considering their history when it came to confrontation, he decided it would be better to try and ease his way into a conversation. He opted to get the JAG business out of the way first.
�Everything looks to be in order,� AJ told him, closing the file and setting it down on the desk. He saw Harm�s shoulders slump in relief, and was glad he hadn�t said anything about the report not being up to the Commander�s usual standards; Harm quite obviously had enough to worry about without getting reprimanded for a little bad grammar and penmanship.
�Yes, sir.� Harm hesitated, and then asked quietly, �Sir, I hate to ask this, but I was wondering if I could leave early for lunch. I need to pick up Mac-�
�Already taken care of,� the Admiral interrupted Harm�s request. He saw the puzzled frown on Harm�s face and explained, �When Mac told me why you were late, I asked her how she was getting home. She told me she had to wait until you could get back there and pick her up, so I arranged to have someone get her and take her home.�
�I�ve also made arrangements for her transportation to and from the hospital for as long as she�s unable to drive,� he added quickly, forestalling any further questions.
Harm looked at him, a little stunned but very grateful. �Sir, I don�t know what to say. Thank you.�
�No problem,� AJ answered gruffly, uncomfortable with Harm�s gratitude. In his mind, making arrangements for a driver wasn�t nearly enough to make up for what had happened this past year. But if it meant that there was one less thing for Harm and Mac to worry about, then he was grateful to be allowed to help.
Still, finding transportation for Mac wasn�t going to do that much in easing Harm�s mind. �Harm,� AJ said hesitantly, �If you need to talk��
AJ trailed off when he saw the shuttered look come over Harm�s face. He knew Rabb well enough to know that look meant that he was shutting off all of his emotions, and nothing AJ did would get him to open up at this point. He stifled a sigh.
�I think we�re done here, Commander,� he said, falling reluctantly back into his role as CO, not missing the relief that flickered in Harm�s eyes. He shook his head, hoping to hell that Harm would open up to someone before he collapsed under the weight of his burden.
�You�re dismissed.�
Harm quickly came to attention and then left the Admiral�s office as fast as he could while still maintaining some sense of decorum. He appreciated what AJ was trying to do, he really did, but the last thing in the world he wanted to do right now was talk about anything. He just wanted to go lock himself in his tiny little hole in the wall office and try to pretend that the outside world didn�t exist.
Stopping only long enough to grab a cup of coffee from the break room, Harm made his way to his office and dumped his briefcase on the nearest chair. Setting his coffee down on his desk, he turned to shut and lock his office door, only to find Sturgis standing there, a teasing smirk on his face.
�So what�s your excuse this time, buddy?� he asked, leaning against the doorframe. �Alarm didn�t go off? Accident on the Beltway?�
Harm�s eyes shot daggers at his old friend. �I had to drive Mac to Bethesda for her treatment because she�s so tired and sore that her doctors don�t want her to drive anymore,� he snapped at Turner, his nerves frayed to the breaking point.
Sturgis sobered instantly at the news. �I�m sorry,� he said sincerely. He took a good look at the haggard expression on Harm�s face and quietly stepped inside the office, shutting the door behind him. �You want to talk about it?�
�Why?� Harm asked as he sank heavily into his seat, his voice overflowing with the bitterness he felt. �Talking doesn�t do any good; it doesn�t make Mac feel any better.�
Sturgis moved forward, leaning against the edge of the desk. �What about making you feel better? Harm, I know it�s hard-�
�You don�t know anything about it, Sturgis,� Harm interrupted angrily. Sturgis nodded.
�You�re right. I don�t,� he conceded, but quickly added, �but there are people out there who do know what you�re going through, Harm. Maybe you should try talking to one of them.�
Harm shook his head. �I tried that,� he admitted softly. He ran a weary hand over his face. �Last weekend, I went to a support group for family members of cancer patients. And I sat in that room and listened to this man talking about his wife of twenty-three years, and how she went through chemo and lost her hair and was sick all the time, and after all of it, her cancer metastasized anyway. I watched him break down and cry because he knew she was going to die, and I felt like a fraud.� He looked up then, and Sturgis could see the guilt in his friend�s eyes. �I haven�t had to deal with any of that. Hell, every doctor Mac�s been to has told her that she has practically the best case scenario someone with breast cancer can have, and that we should consider ourselves lucky.�
�The doctor�s right,� Sturgis told him softly, and then quickly jumped back when Harm flew out of his chair and got right up in his face.
�Well, guess what? I don�t feel lucky!� he spat out angrily, the last of his control sliding out of his grasp. �I don't feel lucky at all!�
Although startled, Sturgis didn�t flinch in the face of Harm�s anger. He knew that Harm wasn�t upset with him; he was just the most readily available target. And Sturgis was okay with that if it meant that Harm could let go of some of the emotions he�d been burying all this time.
�What do you feel?�
�I feel angry,� Harm said; his voice low and tight. Unable to stand still with all the emotions roiling through him, he pushed back from Sturgis and began to pace as best he could in his tiny office. �I'm angry at all of these people telling me that we should feel lucky. I'm angry with them for telling me that I don't have a right to feel what they're feeling. That I don't have the right to be angry; that I don�t have the right to be afraid.�
He wheeled around to face Sturgis again. �The woman I love has cancer. She has been poked and prodded. She has been stuck with needles in her breast and in her arms. She has had doctors poking around, pulling tissue out and shooting radiation in. She's tired, and she's in pain. Her entire wardrobe at this point consists of a few t-shirts that don't irritate her skin too much, because it�s getting so red and painful that they might have to take a break from treatments to keep her from getting severely burned. As it is, she's so sore from the treatments and the swelling that she can't roll over at night without waking up in pain. She sleeps out in the chair in the living room because it's the only place she can get comfortable. But now, that doesn't even work, because it's hurting her back. So she can�t sleep, and I can�t sleep, and I�ve done everything I can think of to make her more comfortable, to help her, but nothing works. She just keeps hurting, and I can�t do a damn thing to stop it.�
With that admission, all of Harm�s anger and frustration faded, leaving behind an aching despair in its wake. �I�m helpless, Sturgis,� he said in an anguished whisper, staring down at his hands. �She�s in pain, and I�m helpless to do anything but watch.�
�Harm-� Sturgis tried to say something, to offer some kind of comfort, but Harm didn�t want comfort or sympathy or pity; he just wanted to be left alone. He moved past Sturgis again and sat down at his desk.
�No, Sturgis. I don�t want to hear it. Whatever it is, I just�just�� he waved his hands in front of him, as if to push it all away. Then he took a deep breath and picked up the file sitting in front of him. �I have to get this taken care of, or Bud�s going to cream me in court this afternoon.�
�Harm, you need to talk about this,� Sturgis pushed, but Harm dismissed him.
�Not now I don�t. I�m tired, Sturgis. I�m tired and I just want to stop thinking about it for a few hours, until I have to go home and deal with it again. And right now, I have a trial to prepare for.�
�All right,� Sturgis said reluctantly, knowing that he wasn�t going to get Harm to say anything else. �But if you need anything��
Harm just waved him off, burying his head in the file on his desk. Sturgis watched him for another moment before turning and walking out, quietly shutting the door behind him. He then made a beeline for his office. He might not be able to get through to Harm, but he knew someone who could.
He trudged up the front porch steps and unlocked the door. Stopping just long enough to wipe his shoes on the mat, he stepped inside, and was immediately assaulted with the wonderful scents that were wafting out of the kitchen. Inhaling deeply, he could have sworn he smelled the familiar soothing scent of his grandmother�s chicken soup; a smell that took him back to summers on the farm, of being a kid and being taken care of when he was sick. He felt tears prick his eyes as his mind drifted back to those rare happy times in his childhood, so he quickly shook himself out of his memories. Now wasn�t the time to wax nostalgic about the past; he had far too much to take care of in the present.
�Hey, Mac, I�m home!� he called out as he started to unbutton his jacket, hoping that she wasn�t napping. He had just shrugged the coat off of his shoulders and was about to hang it up when Mac came swooping in from the kitchen, a pile of clothes in her hands. At first he thought it was laundry, until she thrust it into his hands while she took his jacket and hung it up for him. Looking down, he realized that they were his workout clothes.
�Go get changed,� she ordered as she relieved him of his briefcase and his cover. �Dinner won�t be ready for another hour, so you have time to take a short run.�
�Mac-� he started to protest, but she cut him off with a quick shake of her head.
�You haven�t exercised all week, Harm. You need to get some fresh air and break a sweat for a change.� She could see he was about to argue the point, so she reached up and ran a gentle hand down his face. �Trust me, Harm. Go for the run; you�ll feel better.�
�Fine,� he conceded reluctantly, and she flashed him a bright smile and leaned up to kiss him tenderly.
�Go change,� she ordered gently, pushing him towards the downstairs bath, �I�m going to keep working on dinner.�
Too tired to argue or even question, Harm followed orders and changed into his running clothes. He did a few quick warm-up stretches and then called out to Mac that he was leaving. She poked her head out of the kitchen just long enough to tell him not to overdo it, and then he was out the door.
It took Harm less than a block to realize that Mac was right; this was just what he needed. No work, no worries; nothing but him and the cold night air and the ground beneath his feet. The longer he ran, the more tension drained out of him, leaving him with a weary body but a clear head that was, at least for the moment, at peace with the world.
Forty-five minutes later he was jogging back up the steps to his front door. He felt like he could have run for another hour at least, but he knew that he needed to heed Mac�s advice and not overdo it. Besides, if she had managed to drag up the energy to make him dinner, the least he could do was not make her wait on him. Making his way inside, he found her in the dining room setting the table. She looked up when he shut the door and graced him with the brightest smile he�d seen in weeks.
�Hey,� she greeted him pleasantly, �You�re just in time. Go get cleaned up while I finish setting the table and then we can eat.� He nodded and started up the stairs, only to stop again when she called out, �But use the guest bathroom. You�re stuff is already in there.�
Harm frowned. Why didn�t she want him to use their bathroom? He was about to turn around and ask her when she added, �Don�t ask; just follow orders, sailor. Trust me, there�s a method to my madness.�
He chuckled, shaking his head as he made his way up the rest of the stairs. She knew him too well.
True to her word, he found everything he needed to get cleaned up in the guest bathroom, including his most comfortable sweats and favorite t-shirt. He quickly showered and dressed, and then made his way back downstairs to the dining room.
She had lit candles throughout the room, giving it a soft, cheery glow. In addition, she had taken out the extension leaf on the table so that they could sit closer to each other. He wondered for a moment if she was planning some kind of seduction, but looking around, the intimacy of the room seemed less about romance than it did about comfort.
�Sit down, Harm.� Mac�s soft voice startled him out of his contemplation, and he turned to see her standing behind him holding a basket of warm bread in one hand and a pitcher in the other. He immediately moved to relieve her of the pitcher, but she shook her head and stepped out of reach.
�Uh, uh,� she said, sliding around him and setting the pitcher and basket in the center of the table. Then she walked back to him and nudged him towards his chair. �Sit, please.�
�But-� Harm started to protest, even as he let her push him into his seat. He frowned up at her. �I should be helping.�
�No, you should be sitting,� she corrected with a soft smile, patting him on the shoulder. �But you can pour the drinks if it�ll make you feel better. I�ll be right back.�
With that she darted back into the kitchen, leaving him no more chances to protest. He thought about following her, but it was obvious she was trying to do something nice for him and he didn�t want to spoil it by arguing, so he decided to just go with the flow for now. He would, however, be watching her closely to make sure she wasn�t overdoing it.
He had poured their drinks and was just sitting back down when Mac returned with two bowls of steaming soup in her hand. Setting one down in front of Harm and the other in front of her chair, she quickly headed back into the kitchen and came back a minute later with two small plates. Harm looked down, and he felt those same tears from earlier fighting to make their way out again.
�Chicken soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. Just like my grandmother used to make,� Harm whispered softly. He raised his head and found Mac staring at him; eyes shining with unshed tears and silent understanding. �But then, you knew that already, didn�t you?�
When she only smiled at him, he shook his head and asked resignedly, �Who called you, the Admiral or Sturgis?�
Mac�s smile widened. �Both, actually,� she informed him. �And then I called your mom and she gave me your grandmother�s soup recipe.�
�Why?� he questioned her. She reached out and gently covered his hand.
�Trish said these were your comfort foods as a kid,� she explained. She gave his hand a tight squeeze. �I thought you could use a little comforting.�
�Mac, I-� Harm�s voice clogged with tears, and he had to clear his throat before saying, �I don�t know what to say.�
She squeezed his hand again. �You don�t have to say anything, Harm,� she reassured him. �You just have to sit back and enjoy your dinner. Please?� she added when he hesitated, and he could see how much it meant to her to do this for him, so he smiled and picked up his spoon.
Mac looked at him nervously as he gently blew on the hot liquid before eating it. �It�s not exactly like your grandmother�s,� she explained apologetically. �I didn�t have the time for that, but I improvised the best I could.�
Harm smiled reassuringly. �It�s perfect,� he told her, his voice sincere, �Just what I needed.�
Mac breathed a small sigh of relief. �I�m glad.� A little more relaxed, she picked up her own spoon, asking curiously, �So, why don�t you tell me how this became your comfort food?�
�Well, if I remember right, the first time my grandmother made it for me I was four. It was winter and we were visiting her on the farm��
For the next hour, Harm relayed stories about his childhood visits to his grandmother. The time he stayed too long in the snow and caught a cold; the summer he got poison ivy; and the day he jumped off the rafters in the barn and broke his wrist. Mac laughed and teased him about his inability to stay out of trouble, and before he knew it, dinner was over and she was bringing out dessert.
His eyes widened when he saw the piece of warm apple pie in front of him. �You baked, too?�
Mac gave him her best �are you crazy?� look as she sat down. �Sorry, flyboy,� she informed him archly, �Not even for you do I attempt apple pie.� She shrugged her shoulders and admitted, �I picked it up from that little bakery a couple blocks away.�
Harm took a small bite. �It�s delicious,� he told her, savoring the taste of warm apples and cinnamon. He took another, much larger bite, and then another. He was about halfway done when he realized that Mac hadn�t cut a piece for herself. �Are you going to have any?� he asked curiously. Mac shook her head.
�Maybe later,� she said, knowing full well that she wasn�t going to eat any of the pie. Harm knew it, too, but he didn�t say anything. She had finished off all of her soup and the majority of her sandwich, which was more than she�d eaten in one sitting in a couple of weeks, so he didn�t want to push his luck. He also didn�t want to leave her sitting there while he ate, so he quickly polished off the rest of the pie. When he was finished, he stood up and started to clear the table, but Mac put her hand over his and shook her head.
�We�ll take care of it in the morning,� she told him, tugging him towards the stairs. �Come on, flyboy. I�ve got another surprise for you.�
Harm followed her up the steps to their bedroom. She opened the door and flipped on the lights before stepping to the side so he could enter. The moment he stepped into the room, he could see why she had made him clean up in the spare bathroom. The entire room had been reorganized. The bed had been shifted over, the dresser pushed back, and the small chair by the window removed; all to make room for the recliner that had been Mac�s bed for almost a week.
He turned to look at her in disbelief. �Mac!� he exclaimed. �How the hell did you get this up the stairs?� His blood pressure rose at the thought that Mac had somehow managed to drag that monstrosity upstairs all by herself.
She knew exactly what he was thinking, and she hastened to reassure him. �Relax, Harm. Sturgis and the Admiral came by and moved it. I didn�t so much as lift a finger. Well, except to point them in the right direction when necessary,� she added with a grin. Stepping up to him, she cupped his cheek in her hand. �I thought it would be nice if we could at least sleep in the same room, if not the same bed.�
Relaxed now that he knew she hadn�t strained herself, he smiled at the thought of falling asleep next to her again. Even if he still couldn�t wrap his arms around her as he slept, it was still a heck of a lot better than the two of them sleeping on different floors. He turned his head to the side and pressed a kiss to her palm. �I think that�s a great idea.�
�I�m glad you approve.� Pulling her hand away, she reached around and slapped him on the butt. �Now go get ready for bed, sailor,� she ordered with a smile.
Harm laughed. �Aye, aye, ma�am,� he said, saluting her playfully before heading off to the bathroom. Since he�d already showered and he was just going to wear his sweats to bed, he decided to take the time to shave before brushing his teeth and heading back into the bedroom. When he got there, Mac was in her customary long t-shirt. But instead of sitting in the chair, she was sitting on the bed holding something in his hands that he didn�t recognize.
�Mac, what are you doing?� he asked curiously. He gestured to her hands. �And what is that?�
�Hand held massager. With heating action,� she added, stroking the handle suggestively. She laughed when she saw the tips of Harm�s ears turn pink and decided not to tease him anymore. Instead she gestured to the bed and ordered, �Take off your shirt and lie down on your stomach.�
�Mac,� he protested, moving to the foot of the bed, �you don�t have to do that.�
�I know that, Harm. I want to do it.� Setting down the massager, she scooted down to the end of the bed. Catching hold of his hands, she said, �I know how hard this has been for you, Harm; how hard it�s been for you to take care of me, and the house, and still do your job. But you�ve done a wonderful job of it, and I think it�s time you get a little reward. You deserve a chance to unwind, so tonight, I want to be the one to take care of you.�
Harm looked into those beautiful doe eyes of hers and, seeing the depth of love there, caught her in his arms and pressed her to him; careful as always to be as gentle as possible. �I appreciate that, Mac,� he told her softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. �I just don�t want you to overdo it.�
�I know that,� she answered, her voice muffled by his chest, �so I made sure to rest a lot this afternoon, and I�m feeling pretty good right now. And right after your massage, I�m going to prop myself in that chair and go to sleep.� She pulled back so that she could look him in the eye. �Okay?�
He sighed in resignation. �Okay,� he conceded, releasing his hold and climbing onto the bed. He stripped off his shirt and tossed it on the floor. He started to lie down and then hesitated. �You sure that�s not too heavy?�
�I don�t know. Want me to hit you over the head with it and find out?� she asked, her voice laced with frustration. She gave him a not so gentle shove. �Lie down already.�
Since he wasn�t completely sure she wouldn�t make good on her threat, he decided that compliance was the best move and quickly climbed onto the bed. He got himself as comfortable as possible, and when he was settled, Mac slid her body to rest on top of his. Straddling his thighs, she picked up the massager and turned it on the lowest setting before gently pressing it to his back. Moving the massager in small circles, she slowly made her way from his shoulders down to his lower back, smiling every time Harm let out a groan or a contented sigh.
Harm couldn�t remember the last time he had felt so good. Every pass of the massager brought a wave of heat that eased the tension from his sore back muscles, and he grew more and more relaxed. Unable to fight the overwhelming need for sleep, he felt his eyes grow heavy and close as he began to drift off.
Mac kept going as long as she could, but eventually her shoulder protested too loudly for her to ignore, and she was forced to shut off the massager. Setting it down on the bed, she leaned down and pressed a feathery kiss to his cheek. When he muttered her name and started to stir, she leaned in close and whispered softly into his ear.
�Shh, it�s okay,� she said, stroking his hair soothingly. �Just go to sleep; I�ll be right next to you.�
When she felt him relax once again, she got up and crossed to the other side to where her chair was shoved right up against the bed. She quickly made herself comfortable and then reached back to turn off the light. As the room was flooded with darkness, she turned her head towards Harm and whispered, �I love you, Harm.�
Harm stirred at the sound. �Love you, too,� he murmured. Eyes still closed, he reached out blindly with one hand, and sighed happily when he felt Mac catch it in hers. Twining their fingers together, he quickly drifted off to sleep.
Friday, February 27, 2004
JAG Headquarters
0917 EST
It was an extremely harried Commander Rabb who rushed off the elevator that morning and headed straight to the Admiral�s office, coat and briefcase still in hand. Entering the outer office, he saw that Jen wasn�t at her desk, so he dropped his coat on a chair and knocked. The Admiral called for him to enter, and he strode into the office, coming to attention in front of the desk.
Rabb/Mackenzie residence
1820 EST
Harm was late getting home that evening; after his outburst at Sturgis, he had buried himself in his paperwork, getting it all cleared up so he wouldn�t have to worry about anything JAG related for the rest of the weekend. Now he wanted nothing more than to get inside, get out of his uniform, collapse into bed and sleep until Monday. Not that there was any chance of that happening � since Mac had started sleeping downstairs, he never slept for more than a couple of hours at a time. He just didn�t know how to sleep alone anymore.