Sarah Mackenzie’s Apartment
Georgetown

He stood stock still, staring at the bottle on the counter.

She froze in mid-stride.

The silence was deafening.

He turned slowly and looked at her, a terrible fear in his eyes. “Mac?” The soft question asked so much.

She had no idea what to say to him. There was no excuse to justify it. Nothing she could say or do would make it okay. So she said nothing.

The anger rose in his eyes. “Mac?” This time there was heat in the question. “Mac…what the hell are you doing?”

Still she said nothing. Humiliation and shame engulfed her, silencing her.

Finally, she said the only thing she could. “I didn’t drink it.” Her innate honesty compelled her to finish that sentence. “Yet.”

The struggle to control his anger and fear was epic, but one look at Mac made him realize he had to win it. Her eyes were wide, the “deer in the headlights” look, but it was the deep anguish in those beautiful eyes that got to him. It had to be really bad if she was drinking again, worse than he had suspected.

He wanted to scream at her, to make her see that she was killing herself, but he didn’t. It would solve nothing; only make things worse. He took a deep breath to steady himself, willing all the anger away. This had to be handled with delicacy, or she would shut down on him. This time when he questioned her the compassion was evident in his voice. “Mac, what are you doing to yourself?”

It was that question, the last one, spoken with such kindness, that broke her. A rage like she had never experienced before washed through her. She literally saw red. “What am I doing? WHAT AM I DOING?” Fury had her yelling.

She turned away from him, almost running across the room. A violent wave of her arm cleared the mantle, knocking the pictures and candlesticks everywhere. “I’m not doing anything! It’s everything that’s being done to me! God damn it, I’m just trying to cope with everything, that’s all! I’m just trying to figure out how to get from one day to the next without going crazy!”

Wild now, she turned back to him, not even able to make the effort to control herself. She kicked a basket across the room. “I can’t deal with it anymore! I’ve had enough in my life and I can’t deal with it ANYMORE!”

Shocked at her reaction and the depth of her wrath, Harm still tried to close in on her and calm her down. He did his best to speak soothingly. “Mac, it’s okay. We’ll get through…”

Completely out of control now, she cut him off with more yelling. “It’s not okay! Don’t give me that bullshit! It will never be okay again!” She moved away from him as he neared. “Just stay away, damn it. This is not something you can fix with a hug and a talk. It can’t be fixed at all!”

He stopped, not wanting to chase her, and hoping against hope he could figure out the right thing to say. To do. Pleadingly, he tried to convince her that he could help. “Mac, whatever is going on, you know I’ll be there for you. I can help. I promise you…”

Once again she cut him off. “Don’t make a promise you can’t keep. You don’t know anything, and you never will! Just get away from me and stay away!” She calmed suddenly, stopping to gaze at him sorrowfully. “It’s for your own good, Harm. Believe me. Stay as far away from me as you can.” She wrapped her arms around herself as if she was cold.

The anguish in her voice tore at his heart. Unable to stop himself, he took a step towards her, holding out his hand. “Mac…please…let me help you.” God, what was going on with her? In all the years he had known her, through all the troubles she had endured, he had never seen her like this.

Her anger was back in an instant. She knocked his hand away. “No! Don’t you get it? You can’t help…no one can. Just get out!” She pointed a finger towards the door. “Get out, damn it!”

Stubbornly he crossed his arms and planted his feet firmly. “No.” He may not be able to reason with her, to convince her, but he sure as hell wasn’t leaving her like this.

“I SAID GET OUT!” The second crack in her armor appeared as she picked up a small vase to throw at him, but she couldn’t do it, dropping her arm before completing the act. The vase dropped to the carpet with a quiet thud. There were tears in her eyes, but she dashed them away. “Please, Harm. Just get out.” The despair in her now soft voice broke his heart. “Please.”

Having learned his lesson he didn’t attempt to get near her, but he didn’t back down either. “No, Mac. I’m not leaving. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I’m sure as hell not leaving you, and you can take that to the bank.” He did his best to appear firm, but not threatening or aggressive.

Once again, her anger waned, only to be replaced by pain. He was getting whiplash from the sudden changes in her mood. She dropped onto the couch and rested her head on her knees. Her voice was muffled when she replied. “You have to, Harm. I’m not giving you any choice.”

Hopeful the storm was over, he sat next to her carefully, as close as he dared. “I don’t care, Mac. I’m not leaving you.” Everything in him wanted to hold her, to somehow alleviate her pain.

Leaping up at the sound of his voice so near, she backed away from him. “I…I can’t do this, Harm. I can’t.” Once again the agony in her voice and demeanor pained him. “I’m going to bed. Please shut the lights off and lock the door when you leave.”

He sat there on the couch as she turned away, shutting the bedroom door behind her. A few moments ticked by, and the sound of the shower came through the door.

Shell-shocked, he surveyed the wreckage of the room. He just sat there, wondering what the hell was happening.

The shower shut off, and silence reigned. He barely heard it when the sobbing started, she was so quiet.

He stood outside her bedroom door, his hand splayed against it. It was torture to listen to her and not be able to touch her, to do something to help. The sound of her crying tormented him, but he didn’t go in. Somehow, he knew he had to give her some space. He couldn’t force her to accept his comfort, no matter how badly he wanted to.

He didn’t know how long he stood there, listening, but it seemed like hours. It wasn’t until the sound of her sobs died away that he realized he was crying with her. Wiping away his own tears, he prayed she was asleep and getting some kind of peace.

Turning, he took a step towards the kitchen. First, he was getting rid of the vodka, then he’d pick up the rest of the mess. He could only hope that whatever was hurting her was something he could fix.

Sunday
0330 Local

Mac opened the door of her bedroom and walked out. As usual, the nightmares had woken her in spite of her exhaustion.

Blinking against the unexpected light, she sighed gently as she saw Harm, stretched out asleep on the sofa. Tiptoeing by him, she headed for the kitchen, intending to throw away the vodka. Thank god he had interrupted her, but she needed to get rid of it. If she kept it, sooner or later she would drink it.

Of course it was gone. She should have known. Back in the living room, she saw that he had picked up the litter from her earlier rampage. She covered him with a blanket before quietly sinking into the chair across from him.

There were lines on his face that even sleep didn’t erase, and she realized they were there because of her. He was clearly exhausted. She knew how hard it was to make that trip home from a carrier, but he still came to her. He cared, about her.

A small part of her wanted to tell him everything, but she knew she couldn’t. No matter what, she needed to stay away from him. He needed somebody better, someone who wasn’t as damaged as she was. But still, it was a comfort to know he cared.

Curled up in the chair, she watched him until she fell asleep. And for the first time since the rape, she slept untroubled by nightmares.