- Letting
Go
Rating: Anyone
Pairing: Harm/Mac
Classification: Angst, Vignette, Shipper
Spoilers: My stories can contain spoilers of any episode already
aired in the US
Disclaimer: I don't own them. If I did, this show would be *very*
different by now.
Archiving: Usual drill. Archived at myjagfanfic @ Yahoogroups;
and various other lists; http://jagficlady.com/ OR http://jagficlady.741.com/
Anywhere else, please ask I like to know where my stories end
up.
A/N: Someone suggested I write this after a story in which Mac
said bye to her dad was posted. Thanks, Rita! For the Ladies
in the Choir. (You know who you are <G>)
Summary: This takes place after Harm's visit to Mac's apartment
in the finale and before hers to his. I know we didn't see him
with the Captain's bars until the last scene, but I think for
this visit, Harm would have wanted to be wearing them.
==============================================================
He was always amazed at how many people came here. Even in
the middle of the day, there were always people walking the length
of the black reflective stone, as if amazed by the sheer size
and workmanship of the wall, or regretting the huge list of names
cut into its shining surface. Or looking for one name in particular,
usually with a piece of paper in their hands that would give them
the correct panel number.
But he didn't need to look for the name he'd come to visit.
It drew him as it always had since that first day when he was
just a midshipman at the Academy - and every Christmas Eve since.
Except for the time he had been training as an aviator or on sea
duty; and except for last Christmas Eve, when he'd foregone the
yearly pilgrimage to be with Mac at the hospital. He'd come here
a few days later, after she'd been released and he'd known she
was going to be all right after her accident.
But it hadn't been the same.
And now, less than six months later, here he was again, standing
before his father's name, reaching out to run his long fingers
over the indentions as he always did.
"Hi, Dad," he heard himself say in a quiet voice,
not really caring that there were others nearby that might hear
him. Yes, this was personal, but he was talking to a granite wall,
not flesh and blood. And while he knew his father was long-buried
in the Taiga, this was where he had always felt the closest to
the man he'd strived to be like all his life - to make proud of
him. "I know. It's not Christmas Eve. But I needed to come
and tell you that I might not be able to get here on that day
anymore." He could see his reflection in the highly polished
material, could see the four bars on the epaulets of his summer
whites. "As you can see, I made Captain. Not officially,
but frocking was allowed. I'm going to London, Dad," he continued.
"I've been named Force Judge Advocate for Naval Forces Europe,"
he said, unable to still the tiny thrill of pride that went through
him at the words. It was still something that he couldn't quite
grasp the reality of. He smiled gently. "I know. Takes some
getting used to, doesn't it? 'Captain Rabb'. I keep expecting
someone to report me for wearing the wrong insignia. Or for someone
to tell me that I'm not really a Captain after all - that there
was a mistake."
"But I won't be going to London alone, Dad. You remember
Mattie? The girl that I introduced you to here Christmas Eve before
last? She went back to her dad, but then she had an accident and
was in a coma for a few weeks. She's going to be okay with some
therapy, but her dad couldn't handle things and went off the wagon.
He's agreed to let me take custody of Mattie again. So once she's
ready to travel, I'll be bringing her over to London."
He sighed deeply as he reached the crux of the matter. "I
don't know what I'm going to do about Mac. I know you remember
her. You'd heard me talk about her enough - and she was there
at the edge of the Taiga when I found out what had happened to
you."
"I told her almost a year ago to let me know when she
was ready to talk - but she hasn't come to me yet, and I don't
think she's ready since she hasn't. So I don't want to force the
issue, but I need to know. I just came from her place - she said
she was taking things 'one day at a time', but didn't say anything
about us or our future. If we *have* a future, that is. Time's
running out and I don't know what to do about it. The idea of
her going to San Diego - didn't I mention that? She's been offered
a new post at the Marine base there, heading up a new multi-force
JAG office. It's a big deal for her. One that I can't ask her
to give up, even for me. And I don't want to give up my promotion
and everything that goes with it. I wasn't even sure I'd ever
get that fourth bar and eagles. Not after last year. Anyway, the
idea of not having her around isn't something I'm ready for. Even
when she was seeing someone else, she was still in my life. But
with so many miles between us, I don't think we can sustain a
friendship, much less a relationship. Ever since I heard the news,
I've been dreading the thought of our being apart. I've been remembering
things, times that she and I were so close to getting it right,
and then something would happen to get between us. But I do know
that if she ever does tell me that she's ready to talk, I'm going
to tell her how I feel about her. I'm not going to hold back any
longer. It's time to let go and embrace the future if I'm ever
going to be happy."
"I need to get going. I have more packing to finish. There
are a lot of things that I don't want to leave to the movers.
Last time I trusted them, I lost quite a few things. I just wanted
to stop in and let you know why I wouldn't be here like I usually
am. But I'll have you with me in spirit, Dad. It's taken me awhile
to figure that out, but I realize now that you're not here. This
is just a black granite wall." He placed a hand on the name
and the other on his heart. "You're here. You've always been
here, and you will always be here."
"I love you, Dad." He stepped back from the stone
and went to attention, snapping a salute to his long-lost father
before turning smartly and walking away from the past into the
future.
The End
- Home Harm/Mac
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