CHAPTER 5 - THERAPY: LIVING WITH PTSD - PART A

*That which does not destroy me makes me stronger.* (Captain Campbell, from 'The General's Daughter')
 

As Commander Harmon Rabb stood in front of his apartment door, his friend, Clayton Webb, went through the motions of turning the key in the lock, knowing what to expect.
Rabb, however, had no idea what awaited him on the other side of the door, and Webb just hoped they had done the right thing. He pushed the door open, and with a hand on Rabb's shoulder, he stepped out of the way so that Rabb could enter first.

Harm was stunned by what he saw. A small group of people had been relaxing on the sofa and at the kitchen counter. Upon seeing him, they all rose to their feet, smiling happily.

"Welcome home, Commander!" they exclaimed in unison.

"Wha-? ..." Harm was rendered speechless, as he gazed wide-eyed at the faces of his Commanding Officer, Mac, Sturgis, Petty Officer Coates, Bud and Harriet. It was apparent that they had come here straight from work, as they were all still in uniform. He glanced quickly at Webb, who had come out from behind him and dropped the duffle bag against the wall.

"Don't look at me; Sarah organized everything, though she did have plenty of help," Clay explained with a smirk, his hand sweeping the air dramatically.

Harm's loft had been transformed, and he took a few seconds to look around and take it all in. Little colored light bulbs hung everywhere, along the ceiling, around the windows, all entwined with garlands of holly and pine. A large banner hung across one living room wall with the words 'Welcome Home' in red and green letters. In one corner stood a four-foot, fiber-optic Christmas tree, with its many, multi-colored lights slowly undulating and ever changing. There were even colorfully wrapped packages arranged underneath with shiny bows and ribbons. Lit candles arranged in various places lent even more of a warm glow with all the other lights and holiday decoration. Even the air itself was infused with a festive mixture of holiday fragrances.

"Wow, I can't believe you guys did all this," Harm murmured, glancing at everyone before settling his gaze on a smiling Mac.

Mac stepped forward and gave Harm a careful cheek to cheek embrace, whispering in his ear, "I hope this wasn't too much. Are you all right?" She looked into his eyes intently.

"I – I'm doing okay," Harm stammered, trying not to feel overwhelmed. The others walked up to him one at a time to extend greetings and well wishes, and he managed to keep an arm's length distance by way of handshakes.

"Not to worry, Commander," Chegwidden grinned. "We don't want to wear you out by overstaying our welcome. However, your colleagues felt strongly about you not having to come home to a cold, empty apartment."

"Thank you, sir," Harm said and looked around his loft again. "This is quite a surprise."

Harriet had waited her turn patiently and finally got the chance to see for herself that Harm was relatively in one piece.

"Oh, it's so good to see you, Commander," she gushed, as she gave him a full, extended hug which he returned, albeit awkwardly. He leaned down to wrap his arms around her back as well, as they held each other. If it had been anyone else, he would have felt extremely uncomfortable, but since it was Harriet, it was all right. Eventually, she released her hold on him, looking up and scrutinizing him closely. "Have you been eating enough, sir?"

"Ah-ha, that's what all those wonderful goodies you've been sending are for," Harm grinned. "You're trying to fatten me up."

"Just want to make sure you get healthy, sir," Harriet replied. "Come with me and I'll give you a tour of your kitchen."

Harm followed her meekly, looking a little perplexed. As Harriet and Mac showed him around, he came to learn that they were not only responsible for the decorating, but for the food shopping as well. Everyone had pitched in and Harm found his cupboards and refrigerator to be completely stocked. He wouldn't need to run out for anything any time soon. The cabinets were stuffed with boxes and cans, everything from staples to non-food items. The freezer was filled with goodies, as was the refrigerator; bottled water, juices, fruits and vegetables, dairy products, and plastic containers or wrapped packages marked with labels as to their contents. There were a couple of plates of snacks out on the counter; one with cheese and crackers and the other a mound of peanut butter cookies that looked homemade. It certainly appeared that they had thought of everything.

Harm also learned that Mac, as soon as she found out when he was being released, had hired a cleaning service that, under Harriet's supervision, had made the entire loft spotless from top to bottom. Everything was neatly organized, dusted, and polished. The kitchen and bath sparkled, and his bed had been made up with freshly laundered bedding. Harm couldn't help but think of how inviting that bed looked.

"How about a cup of hot, spiced cider, Commander?" Harriet asked, indicating the large pot being kept warm on the stove.

"Umm, okay," Harm responded automatically, as he was pulled back from his thoughts by her question.

"Don't worry, it's not spiked," Mac added.

In fact, Harm realized that his refrigerator was devoid of beer and he began to wonder if there was any booze in the loft at all. His doctors had warned him about avoiding alcohol, due to the medications he was taking. He wondered how anyone else could possibly know that, and it made him feel paranoid. He decided it was probably merely coincidence and smiled weakly as Harriet handed him a mug.

The smell of the spiced cider triggered a reaction in Harm. Memories of the night that his captor took him out of the basement prison slammed into his mind. The master had plied him with food and alcohol laced cider. Harm had endured the man's perverse sexual games throughout the evening, culminating in being taken upstairs to spend the night in his master's bed. Suddenly nauseated, Harm set the mug down on the counter a bit too hard, resulting in a loud, clanking noise. Fortunately, the sound startled him enough to bring his awareness back to his surroundings. His guests, who had been chatting amongst themselves, fell silent and watched him with concern.

"Harm, are you all right?" Mac was immediately at his side, laying her hand lightly on his forearm.

"I'm ... I think I need to sit down, just for a minute," Harm said distractedly, feeling woozy. Mac led him over to the nearest chair and he dropped onto it heavily with a long sigh. "I guess I didn't realize, in all the excitement, how tired I am." He gave a sheepish grin and added, "Sorry."

Chegwidden spoke up. "No reason to apologize, Commander. It's been a big day and you are looking just a wee bit peaked. I do believe this is our cue to leave and let you get some rest. I'm sure I can speak for everyone that we all hope you make a speedy recovery and come back to JAG soon. The place just hasn't been the same without you."

"Oh, I'll bet it's been smoother and calmer without me around to drive you crazy, Admiral," Harm chuckled heartily.

"Perhaps," A.J. smirked, then became serious. "But, make no mistake; you have been sorely missed. Now, you concentrate on getting well."

"Thank you, sir. I'll do my best." Harm stood up in order to see his Commanding Officer to the door, while Sturgis, Bud, Harriet, and Jennifer were gathering up their coats. The Yeoman Second Class presented the Admiral's cover and overcoat to him; then she said her goodbyes to Rabb and everyone else, and left. Sturgis, Bud and Harriet departed next, after exchanging warm, heartfelt sentiments, hugs, and slaps on the back with Harm as he thanked them profusely for their kindness and for everything they had done.

After A.J. donned his coat, he turned to address Harm once more. "It must feel pretty good to be back in your own place, Commander."

"That it does, sir," Harm responded.

"I know you're in good hands," A.J. glanced at Mac who was standing at Harm's side and Webb who was seated on the couch. "But, call me if there's anything you need and please keep me informed on the progress of your recuperation. Understood?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you for being here and have a good weekend," Harm said as he extended his hand.

"Colonel, Webb," The Admiral nodded at each of them, and they bid him a good night as he walked out.

Harm shuffled restlessly around the loft, looking everything over as if trying to remember when he had last been there. He took his duffel bag and emptied the contents onto his bed, then returned to the living room area. Stopping in front of the twinkling, cheerfully lit tree, he gazed down at the numerous gifts piled underneath.

"I can't believe this," Harm said, looking bewildered. "Where did all this come from? How did –?"

"Somebody thought that, since you had to miss the holidays, you should get to have Christmas now," Webb said, tilting his head pointedly over to Mac, who was going into the kitchen area. "Hey, it's only about a month late."

"It's not too much, is it?" Mac asked, suddenly concerned about Harm's reaction. She started to worry that maybe Harm didn't appreciate being bombarded by a whole group of people when he walked through his door. There was so much she didn't know about Harm's situation, about what he had been through. She couldn't even begin to imagine how bad those seven missing weeks must have been for him to spend a total of three weeks in the hospital. All she could do was to try and support him and be there for him now. Clay hadn't said much on the subject of Harm either, but he had been adamant that Harm not be left alone for a while yet.

"No, it's fine," Harm shook his head, looking all around. "Actually, it's ... very nice. The place looks beautiful, so clean. You shouldn't have gone through so much trouble." He gazed back down at the packages. "I guess I'm just a little overwhelmed."

"It's all right if you want to wait and open your gifts in private," said Webb, as Mac walked over to Harm, carrying two mugs.

"Yeah," Harm shrugged. "I think I'll tackle that tomorrow."

"Here, you forgot your cider," Mac said, holding one mug out to Harm.

"Uh ... no, thanks. Maybe later," Harm replied, trying not to grimace. He sank into a chair and absent-mindedly rubbed his knees, realizing how tired he suddenly felt. He wondered how long Mac and Webb were going to hover, when all he wanted to do was take a long, hot shower, eat a small snack, and practice the relaxation techniques he had been taught, before collapsing into his own bed. "You know, you guys really don't have to stay. I'll be fine here."

"Nice try, Rabb," Webb smirked. "Although, you don't need two babysitters. So, after I review your alarm system with you, I'll be on my way."

A few minutes later, they were done. It had taken a little longer than Webb expected, but Rabb was having difficulty staying focused and it was something new to get used to.

"Don't worry about it, Rabb. If you have any questions or doubts, Sarah will go over it again in the morning or before the next time you leave this apartment.

Harm turned to Mac, his eyebrows shooting upward. "You're staying?"

"Yes, Harm."

"All night?" he squeaked.

"That's right. I'm taking the first watch. Why? You got a problem with that?" Mac's tone left no room for argument.

Harm's mouth dropped open and then snapped shut again. After a pause, he said, "I guess not." He glanced over at Webb. "I just don't want to get in the way of your weekend plans or anything."

"It's not a problem, Harm," Mac said firmly.

"Trust me, Rabb, there aren't any plans to interrupt," Webb said cryptically. He put on his trench coat and gave Mac a quick peck on the cheek. Then, on his way to the front door, he stopped to stand in front of Harm. "Listen, Sarah was there for me when I needed help ... after Paraguay. Let her be there for you now."

Clay patted Harm on the shoulder, and then the two men shook hands.

"Thanks ... for everything," Harm said quietly, as he gave Clay a return smack on the arm.

Webb simply shrugged his acknowledgement. "Call me, anytime," he said. Turning to Mac, he added, "That goes for both of you."

In the next moment, Webb was out the door and gone.

Harm couldn't help wondering how Webb felt about Mac spending the night at the loft. He had been going on the assumption that they were together, except they didn't act like a couple. Of course, he wouldn't have had any idea about anything that took place in the past few months. After Webb's peculiar comment, all he could do was speculate as to the true nature of their relationship. Not that it would matter one way or the other. Harm had convinced himself that there was no chance for Mac and him to be anything more than friends. Ever since Paraguay, they had barely even been speaking, and he had tried to move on. Even if she hadn't told him then that it was never going to happen between them, he couldn't imagine that she would ever want him now. No woman would. He felt damaged, scarred, and useless.

"Hey."

A soft voice broke into Harm's thoughts, and he realized Mac had gone back to the kitchen, and was now staring at him.

"You were somewhere else just now," Mac said, observing Harm's pensive mood.

"Sorry," he shrugged and joined her at the counter, eyeing the snacks.

"How about if you just relax and I'll fix you something to eat?" she asked. It was early evening, and she thought he could use a more substantial meal than just the tidbits and treats that had been set out for everyone.

Harm grabbed a couple of pieces of cheese and a cracker from a platter. "Well, maybe just something simple to go with this," he said as he munched on the cheese. "Is there any soup?"

"Oh, yeah," Mac laughed, as she opened a cabinet door. "Take your pick; vegetable, cream of mushroom, cheese and broccoli, potato?"

"Vegetable sounds good," Harm responded, and ate a cracker. "I'm dying to take a nice, hot shower, though."

"Sure, go get comfy and I'll have this heated up for you when you're ready," Mac smiled.

"Thanks, Mac," Harm said, returning a smile. He walked into the bedroom to clear off his bed. He felt more settled in after he had put away his things and stowed the duffel bag in the closet. He turned off the bedroom light before starting to undress. There was plenty of light from the rest of the place to see by. When he got stripped down to just his tee shirt and boxers, he self-consciously grabbed his robe and headed into the bathroom, all too aware that he wasn't alone in his loft.
 

Mac had come prepared. She and Webb had worked out, ahead of time, which of them would stay at Harm's place when he came home from the hospital. She had convinced the Special Agent that Harm should not be alone his first night home, but after that, they would see how things went, at least for the first few days. Her schedule for the weekend was clear and she, in her usual squared-away Marine fashion, had packed a bag and brought it up from her car earlier.

After Mac put the soup in the microwave, she pulled her bag out from the corner where she had discreetly stashed it. It was time to get comfortable for the night. As she heard the water in the shower being turned on, she stripped rapidly out of her uniform and changed into a pair of gray sweatpants and a pink tee shirt with kittens on the front, which had been a Christmas present from Chloe. Matching fuzzy pink socks completed her outfit, making Mac smile at how 'un-marine-like' she must have looked. She retrieved a hanger from Harm's closet and hung up her uniform.

Turning her attention back to the soup, she contemplated the events of the evening. As far as Mac knew, she was the only person, other than Chegwidden and Webb, who was aware of the fact that Harm had spent the past two and a half weeks in Bethesda's psychiatric unit. She never did get to visit him there, and could only imagine how difficult it had to be for him to deal with staying there. Though she worried about how he was doing, she suspected that he was embarrassed by what he might have perceived as a weakness that he didn't want her, or anyone, to see. As much as she had missed him, she had given him his space and patiently stayed away. Now, however, she wanted him to have a happy homecoming to remember. Mac needed to show Harm how much everyone cared, that he did not have to feel alone, and that she would always be there for him and help him in any way that she could.

The soup was good and hot. Leaving the lid on, Mac decided to wait until Harm was ready for it before pouring it into a bowl. She couldn't help but notice how subdued Harm had been since his arrival home, and began to wonder if he might have been released too soon. He had appeared somewhat distracted and overwhelmed; yet he seemed to handle the surprise fairly well.

Harm stood under the spray of the shower, the water beating down on his skin as hot as he could stand it. He had lathered up with lots of soap, washing himself vigorously and repeatedly, yet never feeling quite clean enough. Thoughts churned through his mind on the events of the day as he let the hot water soothe his tense muscles in the privacy of his own shower. Harm had been relieved and afraid at the same time upon leaving the hospital, though with the help of his therapists, he was a little better prepared to do so. He had been anxious to finally come home, away from scrutinizing eyes. Then, the group gathered at his apartment had caught him completely off guard. The reception to welcome him back and wish him well was the last thing he expected, though he thought he had handled it fairly well. It wasn't going to be easy to act as though everything was normal, that he was actually going to be all right, when he felt anything but. He knew he was being paranoid, wondering what people were imagining and thinking about him, what had happened to him all that time he'd been missing. Only Webb and the Admiral knew a fraction of the ordeal he had endured. Harm tried to take consolation in the belief that everyone else assumed he had simply been recuperating in a regular hospital for the entire three weeks since he'd been set free.

Set free ... by his master, the man who, for a time, had had total control over his mind and body. The reality of it came crashing down on him. Harm had been positive that he would never be outside those gray walls; never see the light of day again. He still couldn't believe he was really here. Maybe it had all been a horrible nightmare, or worse yet, maybe he was dreaming now. Maybe this moment in the present wasn't real and he was still back there. Harm heard and felt the water flowing over him, taking him back to that night in the master's bathroom, reliving how he had scrubbed himself, dreading the end of that shower, knowing the master was on the other side of the door, waiting for him. The memory made him feel disoriented and dizzy.

*... Could you ever recognize this pain
You see, it's so far from over
After this you'll never be the same
You know I'm choking on knowledge
I will break you
I will break you ...*

The master was still out there ... still waiting for him.

"Oh-god, no," Harm moaned, choking back a sob. In a state of panic, he suddenly opened his eyes. He looked around frantically, his palms flat against the tile wall to steady himself. Recognizing that he was indeed in his own shower, he made the mistake of looking at his hands. He stared at the dark scars encircling his wrists, and then looked down at his body; something he had avoided doing since he had entered the bathroom. The dark marking burnt into his flesh stood out vividly against the pale skin on his left hip. It was an all too real reminder that Harm would never be truly free; that monster had seen to that.

*... You will begin to cry
Hearing the silence breaking
You breathe, alive
But you are alone again ...*

With his hands leaning against the wall to hold him up, Harm hung his head and let go. Hot tears flowed, mixing with the water washing over him. He wanted to scream, wail, hit something, break things, but instead, he suffered in silent anguish. His distress sapped all his strength, as he felt what little control he had slipping away. No longer able to hold himself upright, Harm leaned heavily against a wet wall and slid slowly down until he was sitting on the floor, curled up in a ball.

Mac had been snacking, nibbling on crackers and cheese, as she searched for something more substantial to eat. Fixing herself a sandwich, she kept track of the time and thought if Harm didn't hurry up soon, she would have to reheat the soup. More minutes passed before she began to wonder what was taking him so long, but she didn't want to interrupt him or disturb his privacy. Knowing how she could get carried away in the luxury of a bubble bath, she figured he was probably just making up for lost time.

After waiting a while longer, Mac began to get more and more anxious. She could hear the water still running; this had gone on way too long. Coming to a decision, Mac walked through the bedroom and stood outside of the glass block wall.

"Harm?" she called out. "Everything okay in there?"

No answer. Mac listened and tried again. "Harm, are you all right?" Still no answer and she didn't see any shadow of movement, either. A sense of alarm gripped her suddenly as she thought about what the doctor had said, the words 'suicide watch' flashing through her mind. Surely, Harm wouldn't have waited all this time, just to come home and ...

Mac steeled herself, imagining the worst, when she barely heard a low moan. "Harm, I'm coming in!" Decisively, she peeked around the corner of the large, walk-in shower, terrified of what she might find.

"Oh-my-god," Mac breathed, half-expecting to see a lot of blood. What she did find, however, was Harm curled up on the floor, shaking violently. "Harm, what happened? What's wrong?"

Not waiting for an answer, Mac jumped into action. The water had turned ice cold and it was still spraying over Harm's trembling body. Mac shut the faucet off, grabbed a large bath towel and draped it over his shoulders, trying to cover as much of him as she could.

"Can you hear me? Come on, Harm, you're freezing, got to get you out of here." Mac kept talking, trying to get a response. Harm was sitting with his back against the wall, knees drawn up and arms wrapped around his legs. His face was buried between his knees. "Can you get up?" she asked him.

Finally, Harm lifted his head and shook it, his eyes glassy and red from crying. He managed to rasp out a single word. "No."

"Let me help you then," Mac said gently, as she leaned down and offered her hand to him. Harm flinched away from her, trying to curl into an even tighter ball.

"No." Harm refused to meet her gaze. His legs ached and he didn't think he had the strength to stand up on his own. He was so cold that he could barely move. "No ... don't. Don't ... touch me. Don't ... look at me. Just ... don't," he said, breath hitching between the words.

"I'm not looking at you," Mac said huffily, reaching for another towel and flinging it over her shoulder. "And you're not scaring me off that easily, so come on, flyboy, work with me here." Bracing her feet far apart for leverage, she reached down, took a hold of his hand with one hand, and hooked her other hand under his arm.

Harm looked up at her in astonishment, seeing her determination, and he gave in to the fact that he needed her help. His face twisted with raw, emotional pain. "I'm sorry, Mac. I didn't mean what I said."

"I know. It's okay," she replied soothingly. "Just let me get you out of here and warmed up. When I pull, you try to push up."

"Okay," Harm acknowledged.

Mac yanked on his arm with all her might as he struggled to get up off the wet floor. Miraculously, she got his six foot four inch tall frame to a standing position, and even managed to maintain her balance as he stumbled and fell heavily against her. Whipping the towel off her shoulder, Mac deftly wrapped it around Harm's waist and even tucked in the end snugly, keeping eye contact with him the entire time. He clutched at the towel around his shoulders with one hand, swaying slightly as he gazed down at her.

"It's okay, Harm. Lean on me, I've got you," she said softly. She had caught brief glimpses of various marks and scars on his body that cataloged the terrible evidence of his injuries, but she was careful not to react to what she saw. Mac took Harm's free hand and rested it on her shoulder. "Hold on and just let me take care of you."

As Harm stood there, leaning on Mac and shivering violently, she was all business. Taking the large towel from his shoulders, she proceeded to briskly and thoroughly rub him dry, starting with his hair and working her way down his arms and chest. Harm's skin felt cold as ice. His body hair was just beginning to grow back, and Mac suddenly realized what it was that looked so different about him.

"Cute tee shirt," Harm commented, out of the blue.

"What?" Mac looked down at herself and grinned. "Oh, thanks." She discovered that the front of her clothes had gotten fairly wet in the process of taking care of Harm. "Let's go finish getting you dry." Putting her arm around his waist, she allowed him to lean on her as he limped into the bedroom.

"Sit," Mac ordered. Harm sat obediently on the bed, trembling and watching her as she nonchalantly dried his legs and feet. Once she was satisfied that he was sufficiently dry, other than his still damp hair, she pulled the bed covers down, fluffed the pillows and even laid a folded dry towel across the pillow to rest his head on. "Give me your wet towel and get in bed," she said, turning her back to him and holding out her hand behind her.

Harm removed his towel, handed it to Mac, and quickly crawled into bed, pulling the thick covers up over himself. Meanwhile, Mac hung up the wet towels in the bathroom and then rummaged through his dresser drawers until she found what she was looking for.

"Here, put these on and I'll go reheat the soup," Mac said, as she held her hand out to Harm.

He realized she was handing him a pair of boxers and he gratefully took them. "Um, thanks, Mac," he said, fidgeting under the blankets to slip them on.

Although the loft seemed comfortable to her, Mac turned the thermostat up a notch on her way to the kitchen. Her socks had gotten soaked from the shower floor, so while the soup was heating up, she got her bag out and changed into another pair. Finding a small tray, she used it to carry the bowl of hot soup and some of the cheese and crackers to the bedroom.

At first, all Mac could see was a massive lump in the bed, covered up and visibly shaking with chills. Harm had curled up on his left side, facing where she entered the room. The edges of the blankets were tucked up around his chin, and Mac saw his face peeking out and watching her as she approached.

"This should help, but I'm afraid you'll have to sit up for it," Mac said, holding the tray. Harm pulled himself up to a sitting position, which caused the covers to drop down, exposing his shoulders, chest and back, making him shiver even more.

"I could use a tee-shirt, too," he murmured.

"Of course. I'll get it," Mac responded, mentally kicking herself for not thinking of it earlier as she set the tray down. Pulling a plain white undershirt out of a drawer, she tossed it to Harm and he tugged it on. Once he got situated, Mac placed the tray on his lap. "Careful, it's hot," she reminded him.

Harm had to smile. Mac was in full mother hen mode and, strangely enough, he didn't really mind. In fact, it was a familiar sort of comfort to just let her take charge. He watched her start to walk out of the room.

"Aren't you going to have any?" he asked.

"Don't worry about me. I've already eaten," she replied with a sly grin. When Harm rolled his eyes, she protested. "Well, I was hungry!"

"It's good to know some things haven't changed," said Harm. They both chuckled.

Mac gazed at Harm wistfully as he spooned up his soup, thinking that although so much had changed, some things hadn't changed at all. He looked adorable, eating in bed, his hair all mussed and spiky. At least his handsome face was untouched, and Mac found that she could still drown in the depths of those beautiful, sad eyes. She turned away, too saddened to watch his scarred, quivering hands as he fed himself.

"Where are you going?" Harm asked between mouthfuls.

"Not far," Mac said with a quick smile. "I'll come pick up your tray when you're all done." She figured that just because they were in close quarters, it didn't mean she couldn't give him a little privacy. He didn't need her staring at him while he ate.

"Oh, okay."

Mac went into the kitchen to wrap up and put away the leftover snacks and put the plates in the dishwasher. After wiping down the counter, she went around the loft, straightened up, and blew out the candles. When she returned to the bedroom, she found Harm had finished all of the food. The empty tray had been pushed off to the other side of the bed and he was lying back against his pillows with the bed covers pulled up to his neck.

"Is there anything else you need?" she asked, as she picked up the tray.

"No, this was great. Thanks, Mac. I feel better now." In spite of the hot soup, a chill passed through him.

"Still cold?"

"A little, I guess. Just can't seem to get these sheets warm enough," Harm replied a bit sadly. As much as he wanted to ask Mac to stay with him, he just couldn't bring himself to say the words.

"Stay put. I think I know something that will help. Just give me a few minutes," Mac said mysteriously. She took the tray to the kitchen and finished cleaning up. Grabbing her bag from the living room, Mac headed for the bathroom. Her clothes were still damp from rescuing a very wet Harm in the shower and she was starting to feel clammy in them. She knew they'd have to come off and be hung up to dry so that she could wear them in the morning. After rummaging around in her bag for something she could sleep in, she pulled out a soft, cotton knit nightshirt. Upon taking off her tee shirt and sweat pants, she discovered that her bra had also gotten wet, so she had to remove that as well.

Coming to a decision, Mac quickly washed up and brushed her teeth, dressed only in panties, white socks and a powder blue nightshirt that reached to mid-thigh. As she surveyed herself in the mirror, she thought it would have to do.

When she came back out into the bedroom, she found Harm curled up on his right side, buried under the covers. Unable to see his face, she couldn't tell whether his eyes were open or closed, or if he was even awake. The bedroom lights were off, but there was ample illumination from the living room, enough to see intermittent shivers emanating from Harm's body.

Mac was on a mission. Harm, her friend and a man she cared about deeply, needed her and she knew the quickest way to warm him up. She just hoped he wouldn't protest. After all, it wouldn't be the first time they had shared body heat to keep from dying of hypothermia. Moving to the side of the bed behind his back, she quietly slipped in between the sheets and spooned behind him.

"Mac?" Harm was startled, and she felt him tense up.

"S-s-h-h-h, it's okay. I am NOT going to let you freeze to death on my watch," Mac chuckled. Carefully, she molded herself to his long body, her knees tucked behind his, one socked foot trying to reach and rub his feet, and her forehead resting between his shoulder blades. When she slid her left arm around his waist, he covered it with his own arm, holding her hand against his chest. She heard him sigh and she snuggled closer to him, hugging him against her body.

There was silence for several minutes. Harm was acutely aware of the full body contact between them. He could feel her bare leg draped over his leg, her fingers gently stroking his chest through the tee shirt, her warm breath on his shoulder, and her soft, full breasts pressed against his back. Under any other circumstances, Harm would have found the situation erotic, a fantasy come true. Right now, the warmth radiating from Mac was simply a much-needed comfort, and he finally relaxed, settling into her embrace. He thought back to the time several years ago when they were stranded in Virginia. They had spent a cold night in the woods after poachers had shot Mac in the leg, and he had tried to keep her warm. He decided now that she was merely returning the favor, a friend helping a friend, nothing more.

Harm finally stopped trembling. Mac was tempted to ask him what had happened in the shower earlier, but she thought better of it. She was beginning to wonder if he was still awake, when he shifted slightly.

"Mmmm, this is nice," Harm murmured sleepily.

"Are you feeling toasty yet?" asked Mac.

"Oh, yeah, much better," he answered. "You're so warm. What are you, part lava rock or something?"

Mac responded with a short laugh. "Oh, that's funny." It was still early, too early for Mac to even attempt to sleep, but she didn't know whether or not Harm would want her to stay with him in his bed. She would have to take her cue from him. When she started to move, pulling her arm back, he grasped her hand tighter and pinned it against his chest, tucking their entwined fingers under his chin. Without saying a word, Harm had given Mac her answer. Curled up together, they snuggled deeper into the warm cocoon of the bed. Mac lay in the silence, listening to Harm breathe and watching the patterns from the twinkling, colored lights in the living room play across the ceiling.

Once Mac was certain that Harm was sound asleep, she carefully slipped free and got up. After she grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, she curled up on the sofa, laying a throw over her lap. Watching the ever-changing colors glowing on the Christmas tree gave Mac plenty of quiet thinking time. She couldn't help but wonder about how Harm seemed so broken and what kind of horrors he had suffered to bring him to that point. Realizing that he might never be able to talk about the secrets he kept locked inside, she was afraid that she might never understand enough to be able to help him. He had changed so much already, but she was determined not to give up on him or let him push her away. She finally felt ready to admit she was still in love with him and had been for a long time. Mac just hoped that she would know when the right time came to tell him.

Mac's thoughts then turned to Clayton Webb. They had bonded as a result of their shared experience in Paraguay. It had been a frightening, stressful time, and Mac had decided then that things just weren't going to work out with Harm and her. When Harm was out of the Navy, she tried to move on – with Clay. It seemed as though they were moving towards something, and then Harm had gone missing. Though Mac and Clay had become close and found comfort in each other, she continued to have unresolved feelings regarding Harm. Mac knew Clay's feelings for her were deep and she never wanted to hurt him. Now, she was relieved that their relationship was never consummated on an intimate level. Not that they hadn't come close a few times, she thought ruefully. As much as Webb wanted more, he never pushed her. It was as though he knew that Harm was still, and perhaps always would be, between them. Mac realized that Clay seemed to understand what Harm needed, as well as what she needed to do; he had already gracefully stepped back, as though he accepted the situation. For that she was grateful and she hoped that all three of them would remain good friends.

Mac sighed. When everyone was beginning to give up hope and it seemed doubtful Harm would ever be found, he had miraculously returned. It was maddening to her how little she knew about the circumstances, or why all this happened. It was beyond comprehension. All she knew was that Harm had been deeply affected and she would do whatever she could to help and support him. The future seemed so very uncertain, and Mac could do nothing more than to wait and see what each day would bring.

Harm had been sleeping for a couple of hours already. Mac sat for a while longer, before deciding she was relaxed enough to attempt sleep. Shortly before midnight, she got up and went around the loft to turn off the various twinkling lights until the place was in near total darkness. Once her eyes adjusted, she made her way carefully back to Harm's bed.

As Mac got closer, she heard small sounds akin to whimpering and realized Harm was dreaming. In the darkness, she could barely make out that he had rolled onto his back. She crawled up to him and felt his limbs restlessly twitching. A low moan escaped his lips as his head rolled to one side. Realizing Harm was in the grips of a nightmare, Mac decided she had to try and bring him out of it.

"Harm? Harm, wake up," she said softly, gently stroking his face. His twitching turned into thrashing.

"A-a-a-h-h-h-h-h!" Harm cried out, his eyes snapping open. He awoke abruptly to the darkness. All he could see was a dark outline of a figure looming over him; he could feel someone leaning on him, touching him. Completely disoriented, he thought he was waking up in his master's bed, just as he had before.

"N-o-o-o-o! Please, master, don't! It'll hurt ... please, no more!" Harm wailed, panic-stricken. He flinched away from Mac's touch.

"Harm! Harm, it's me, it's Mac," she said, anxiously. "It's okay, you're okay, I'm here."

"M-Mac? Mac?" Harm flailed in the dark until his hand found her arm and he gripped onto it tightly. "I can't see you. Why is it so dark?"

"Sorry," Mac answered, fumbling around and switching on a nearby lamp. The sudden light had both of them blinking several times as they stared at each other. Mac was sitting up on her knees, her legs folded underneath her. Harm, who had sat up, let go of her arm and wiped his face with his hands.

"Oh-god, it *is* you," he said, breathing raggedly. Beads of sweat had formed on his forehead as he tried to shake off the bad dream. He looked around the room. "And I'm at home. I thought ... never mind."

"You thought you were back there, didn't you?" Mac asked gently. Harm merely nodded in confirmation, distressed by what Mac had witnessed. "I'm so sorry, Harm. You were having a nightmare and I thought it would be best to wake you up."

"'S'okay. I ... I'm glad you're here," Harm said shyly. "I'll be right back. Don't leave, okay? He slid out of bed and headed for the bathroom. Thoroughly embarrassed, he needed to temporarily escape her scrutinizing gaze.

"Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere," Mac smiled.

After Harm took care of business and splashed some water on his face, he came back to find that Mac had smoothed out the bedding and fluffed the pillows. She was relaxing under the covers, leaning back with her head and shoulders nestled against a pillow. Harm slipped in next to her and laid on his side facing her, realizing then that the bedroom lamp had been turned off, but Mac had thoughtfully turned on a small light in the living room. It served as a night-light, sending enough of a glow into the bedroom so that Harm could see where he was.

"You doing okay?" asked Mac, her face full of concern and caring.

"Better now, with you here," Harm responded, gazing at her intently. After a nervous laugh, he added, "I guess you figured out I'm having a little trouble with waking up in the dark ... and nightmares."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Uh-uh."

After a few minutes of silence, Harm yawned. Mac reached over and pulled the blanket up over his shoulder, which earned her a small, contented smile. It wasn't one of his full-blown, flyboy grins that she hadn't seen in ages, but it was a start.

"You tucking me in, marine?" he teased.

"Yup, I am," she giggled, turning to face him as she snuggled down farther into the cozy warmth. "Now, you think you can go to sleep, squid?"

Harm snorted with amusement. "Only if you promise to be here when I wake up."

"I promise, Harm," Mac said seriously. She laid her hand on her pillow in front of her face. Harm reached over and covered her hand with his, closing his eyes. With only their hands touching, Harm drifted off within a few minutes and Sarah followed soon after.