Title: Rebirth – a sequel to Five Whispered Words
Author: LobsterDoc (ktleepitt@aol.com)
Rating: PG-13 for language, innuendo
Category: Romance (H/M)
Disclaimer: The standard disclaimers apply. JAG is
owned by Bellisarius Productions and Paramount. I do
not profit from borrowing any of these characters.
Spoilers: Anything up to season 7 and reference to
some of season 8. However, this veers away
considerably from the season 8 storyline and into A/U.
Most of season 8 is not relevant.
Summary: Mac emerges victorious from one of the
hardest battles of her life. This story will make a
lot more sense if you have read Five Whispered Words.

Many thanks to AeroGirl for beta reading.




PT wing, Bethesda Naval Hospital
Spring 2003

Mac stood at one end of the walkway she had come to
think of as "the gauntlet", breathing slowly,
deliberately, steeling herself for the task at hand,
yet savoring the moment and cataloging all the
details. She wanted to remember everything about this
moment. Today was the day of her rebirth. For the
first time in nine months she would walk unassisted:
no crutches, no cane, no brace, save the tiny neoprene
sleeve on her right knee, no parallel bars, no
nothing. She had taken a few steps, but never had she
traversed the entire length of the gauntlet without a
handrail or a helping hand. Today was the day. She was
sure she could do it. She bent and laid her cane on
the ground and straightened up. She closed her eyes,
mentally preparing herself for this last hurdle, the
culmination of months of pain and triumph, heartache
and love.

The journey had started when she got caught in the
open during a mortar attack. A piece of shrapnel had
torn through her leg, fracturing her femur and patella
and destroying the muscle, tendons and ligaments in
its path. The damage to her knee had been extensive
and the doctors had been unable to guarantee that she
would ever regain full mobility. The months of
uncertainty had been the most difficult of her life.
She had worked so hard to wrest control of her life
from the bottom of a bottle that she felt cheated when
control was stripped from her again. She had no choice
but to re-enter the fray. 

Somehow she had emerged victorious, like a phoenix
rising from the ashes, each fire consuming her and
then somehow fueling her reincarnation. She had risen
from a wheelchair, through a series of braces and
crutches, each time stronger and more confident.
Through two "tune-up" surgeries which had set her back
a month or more, she pushed upward, unwilling to back
down until she had achieved a full comeback.

And all along, there was Harm. The words they had
whispered to each other through her drug induced haze
all those months ago had sustained them. Neither had
backed away though they had ample opportunity. No. He
had been with her through every setback and every
victory, cheering her when she forged ahead and
catching her when she faltered, walking with her every
step of the way. His actions made his feelings clear
as nothing else could. He loved her and she loved him.
They rarely said the words, except in the privacy of
intimate moments, but they both knew they would never
willingly part.

She opened her eyes and stared down the gauntlet to
where he stood, waiting expectantly, like a father
watching his baby's first steps. She smiled,
involuntarily, at the appropriateness of that
particular metaphor. She opened and closed her fists,
willing herself to stay calm and focused. She sighed
as a hand gently touched her elbow, breaking her from
her reverie.

"You ready, Mac?" 

Mac turned toward Lt. Linda Jones, her therapist,
nodded slowly and turned back toward Harm, who smiled
gently at her from the end of walkway. She steeled
herself one more time, her determination firmly in
place. "Let's do this," she announced to nobody in
particular. 

She took a tentative step, easing her weight onto her
right foot. Waiting until she was sure of her footing,
she lifted the left off the ground bearing all her
weight on her right leg. It held. Elated, she took
another careful step, and another and another. Still,
the leg worked as designed. It took her weight without
real pain. She looked away from the ground to steal a
glance at Harm. He smiled and she returned it. Halfway
there, she was halfway there. She took another step
and stumbled. Linda reached for her arm but Mac
stopped her with a glare. She regained her footing and
let out the breath she had been holding. She regrouped
for a moment and then took another step. Her knee
twinged as it took the weight. The pain was not
unexpected, yet she hesitated, unsure of her footing.

"You ok?" Linda asked.

Mac glanced at her and then at Harm. He raised his
eyebrows. She smiled at him and nodded to Linda. "I'm
ok."

She took another deep breath and took another step.
The pain flashed again. She sucked in her breath and
continued walking, carefully, slowly toward the finish
line, each step more difficult than the last. She
glanced at Harm again. He nodded his reassurance. She
estimated the number of steps until she reached the
end: fifteen, just fifteen more steps. She stopped,
regrouping again. 

Linda reached for her again and Mac shook her off.
"I'm fine. I can do this." Linda backed away.

As Mac took another step, her damaged quads began to
protest. She felt sweat beading on her upper lip. Her
leg began to tremble. She bit her lip and kept going.
She knew this would be tough but she had to finish.
She had to do it. She would do it. Just like boot
camp, there was no pain in her world. She could not,
would not feel it. She took another step, and another,
her thigh muscles protesting mightily. She hesitated
and checked the distance again. Five steps; just five
more steps.

"Almost there, Mac," Harm urged gently. "You can do
it."

She took another deep breath and wiped the sweat out
of her eyes. She took another step and started to
count them down. 4: lift, plant, 3: put it down, pick
it up, 2: up, down, 1: drag the toe. Her knee buckled
and she felt herself falling.

And then she was there, in his arms. She had done it!
She wrapped her arms around Harm as she kissed him,
dissolving into tears. For a moment the world
contained only the two of them, their bond the only
thing of substance. The pain, heartache and
uncertainty of the last 9 months fell away like so
much cotton batten, weightless and unimportant. All
that mattered was the two of them in that moment in
that place.



Several hours later -- Mac wasn't sure exactly how
long -- she lay in the peaceful moonlit darkness of
their ocean-view room, listening to Harm's quiet
breathing. She was totally sated, physically and
emotionally. Harm had insisted that she choose the
restaurant for dinner. She had briefly considered
Beltway's just to push his buttons, but instead chose
their favorite sushi place in Annapolis, since Harm
seemed to want to head that direction. She had fallen
asleep in the car after dinner and only woken when
Harm stopped in front of the hotel in Ocean City. They
had watched the moonlight flash on the breaking waves
as they shared a sparkling grape juice on their deck
and then taken a long soak in the in-room Jacuzzi.
They had continued their celebration with agonizingly
slow love-making, its intensity surprising and
delighting both of them. It had been the perfect cap
on the day. She smiled in the darkness thinking about
how worn out Harm had been, falling asleep almost
immediately. She looked at his face, peaceful in
slumber, and reached over to ruffle his hair. The past
nine months had almost been harder on him than on her.
She felt her eyes sting with tears as she gently
touched his face. It was at times like these that she
felt it most acutely; an almost overwhelming
closeness, a feeling like no other she had ever felt
before. God, she loved him so much. She rolled toward
him and kissed him gently before closing her eyes.



The smell of coffee and bacon and the clanking of
dishes and pans woke her at 0900. Mac stretched and
looked around the sunlit room, her gaze finally
alighting on Harm, dressed only in gray Navy
sweatpants, bustling around the kitchenette.

"Morning, Harm," she called sleepily.

"Morning, Mac. Sleep well?" he asked cheerfully.

She stretched, yawned, and inhaled deeply, savoring
the feeling of well being surrounding her. "Yeah, as a
matter of fact I did. You?"

"Yeah, like a log." He looked up from the onions he
was chopping and looked at her sheepishly. "Sorry
about checking out on you like that."

"No problem. You drove all the way out here while I
was sleeping." She got out of bed, limped to the
kitchen and climbed onto one of the stools across the
counter from him. She gestured toward the food he was
preparing. "I guess I slept through the trip to the
grocery store, too?"

He smiled. "Nope, I had a cooler in the back to the
Lexus."

"Hmm. You had this all planned. That's pretty devious,
Commander," she teased.

He handed her a cup of coffee. "Well, I can be
spontaneous once in a while, Colonel," he protested
lightly.

"Ummm," she murmured around the coffee cup. She took a
sip and continued, "I seem to recall a couple of
occasions of spontaneity…" They shared a laugh.

"So, what do you have planned for today?"

"Well, I thought after the Harmon Rabb special omelet,
complete with bacon for the carnivore," he served her
a plate with a flourish and then continued, "maybe we
could go for a walk along the boardwalk, get some
seafood, just kind of hang out. Then there's the hot
tub and the indoor pool. Sound good to you?"

"Yeah. Sounds great. I love walking by the beach."

"We'll keep it short," Harm warned.

"Harm, it's ok. I know my limitations. I can walk for
a while with the stick and the heavier brace. It's
fine. In fact it will be nice to get out and walk a
bit. I still have a lot of work to do if I'm going to
pass my PFT."

Harm scowled. "This isn't supposed to be therapy, Mac.
It's supposed to be fun," he grumbled.

Mac climbed off the stool, biting back a sigh of
exasperation at his overprotectiveness. "It will be,
Harm. Relax, please. I won't overdo. C'mon, let's get
dressed and out of here. The day's half gone," she
called over her shoulder as she limped toward the
bathroom.



They had been walking along the board-walk past tattoo
parlors, penny arcades, salt water taffy shops and
snack bars, all of them shuttered and vacant,
sentinels waiting for the tourists to return for the
summer, expectant. They mirrored her mood. As she and
Harm walked, and storm clouds formed just offshore,
she had become more and more morose. Harm had become
progressively more jittery all afternoon which had
done nothing to help her mood. She couldn't really
explain how she felt, but she sensed something
missing, a whisper of something just beyond her
hearing, hanging just beyond her reach. She felt a
carrot being dangled in front of her, but like the
greyhound chasing the mechanical rabbit, she couldn't
seem to catch it to see what it was. It wasn't like
she was unhappy, exactly; she just couldn't banish her
growing unease. And she couldn't figure out what
exactly was the problem.

As they walked along the boardwalk, the gathering
storm came to fruition and the skies opened. Harm
half-dragged, half-carried her to a nearby pavilion
but they were still soaked by the time they got under
the roof. They flopped onto a picnic bench, laughing
hysterically, their arrival punctuated by a loud clap
of thunder and her mood banished for the moment.

"God, I love storms!" Mac announced loudly.

Harm gaped at her. "You're kidding?" he questioned
sarcastically.

"No," she answered, surprised. "I take it you don't."

Harm's _expression darkened and he look out at the
ocean. "Not particularly. Especially after my last
experience."

Mac nodded sympathetically. What could she say? His
dislike of storms was understandable after nearly
drowning in one, but she couldn't help how she felt.
She loved the unmitigated power of nature. She always
had. She loved the wind and the rain and the thunder
and…"Hmm?" she answered distractedly when she
realized Harm had asked her a question.

"What do you like storms so much, Mac?"

She turned to face him. "I grew up in the desert,
Harm. It rained so rarely there, but when it did the
whole world changed. Dry river beds turned into
churning white water rapids, flowers that looked dead
bloomed overnight. It was like having a black and
white world suddenly turned to Technicolor. Even D.C.
changes after a rain. For just a few minutes it smells
clean, new. You know what I mean?"

"I guess so," Harm answered uncertainly.

Mac turned back toward the ocean and continued
wistfully, "I took a walk during a nor'easter at
Rehoboth one time. I walked along the boardwalk for 40
minutes getting pounded by wind and rain; salt and
sand stung my face. It was so exhilarating, like being
scoured clean, all the stains washed away." She paused
and looked down at her feet, embarrassed at having
revealed this weakness. She continued more quietly,
"It's silly, I know. It's only rain." She looked up at
Harm when he gently touched her arm.

"I don't think it's silly at all," he answered kindly,
smiling.

Mac smiled back, her embarrassment carried away like
the wind-driven rain. She drew him into a hug and
gently kissed him. Every day she found something else
to love about this man.

He returned the kiss and then pulled out of her arms.
"I don't know about you, Mac, but I could use
something warm to drink. There's a coffee bar across
the street. Shall we?"

"Sure," she answered with more enthusiasm than she
felt. She really wanted to stay outside as long as
possible, even if she was cold. She stood to join him
but sat back down when her quads cramped painfully.

"Hey, you ok?" Harm asked, crouching beside her,
frowning with concern.

Mac almost chuckled out loud at his worried
_expression. She patted his arm where it rested on her
good leg. "Yes, Harm, I'm fine. I just overdid it a
bit and I've got a Charlie Horse. I think I need to
sit for a bit longer."

"Ok. I'll run and get the cappuccino. You sit tight."

"Yes, Dad," she answered sarcastically as he trotted
across the street.

As soon as Harm left the shelter, her unease returned.
She could not figure out what was bothering her. Harm
had been antsy all afternoon. Maybe she was just
picking up on his unease? She had tried to talk to
him, to figure out what was wrong but he had brushed
her off. Could that be it? She blew air out her pursed
lips and shook herself. Sulking about it wasn't going
to help her figure it out. Her gaze wandered toward
the crashing waves, the pull of the storm
irresistible.

She struggled to her feet using her cane and the table
for support. She limped to the railing just outside of
the shelter and stared at the grey, agitated sea. Cold
rain mixed with sand and salt pelted her bare face and
head. Cold water ran under her collar and down her
back and dripped off her nose. Wind buffeted her,
threatening to knock her over. The cold rain
intensified the pain in her leg, but she didn't care.
She struggled to stay upright, relishing the sheer
power of nature and its ability to erode the shells
she had erected around herself and reduce her to her
bare essence. For a few brief minutes it was just her
against the storm. 

The magic was broken by his hand grabbing her arm and
dragging her back under the roof. "What in the Hell
were you doing? Trying to get yourself killed?"

"No, of course not," she answered impatiently, prying
her arm from his grasp. "I was just watching the
storm."

"What if you had fallen?"

Mac sank onto a nearby bench, defeated. "I'm fine,
Harm," she mumbled.

"I know," he sighed, "But when I saw you out there,
all sorts of terrible scenarios ran through my head."

"Sorry," she answered listlessly and looked away, the
uncertainty that had plagued her all afternoon back
full force. She quietly sipped her cappuccino and
stared at the sea, wishing for answers, and hoping
Harm wouldn't pry too deeply.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"I'm not sure they're worth a penny."

"What's the matter, Mac? You've been pretty quiet
since we left the hotel. Talk to me."

Mac sighed involuntarily. She really needed to work
this out on her own. Hell, she didn't even really know
what the problem was herself. Maybe she had been
expecting something more from this weekend. Was that
it? Why was she expecting something else to happen?
Was Harm? She wondered idly if Bud had felt the same
way when he returned to JAG; vaguely unsatisfied, as
if his life was anticlimactic. She felt like something
was about to happen, like the other shoe was about to
drop. No. Not negative. Positive? She just wasn't
sure.

Harm gently touched her arm. "Mac? Talk to me.
Please."

"I'm sorry, Harm. I just feel out of sorts, like I am
missing something or like I am trying to make a major
world decision without actually being told what the
decision is. I'm sorry I'm spoiling our weekend. I
just don't know what to do…" she trailed off.

"Say yes."

"What?" Mac asked, confused.

"Say yes," he whispered touching her palm lightly. 

When she looked down at her palm, she discovered an
engagement ring, with a small diamond solitaire. It
was simple, almost plain, not the least bit
ostentatious; and exactly what she would have picked
out for herself. Her heart rate quickened and she
began to perspire. Her mouth was suddenly dry as the
Arizona desert and she found it hard to breathe. She
raised her eyes to look into his. The emotion she saw
there: love, fear, trust, threatened to overwhelm her.

"Harm. We talked about this. About the timing," she
protested gently, confused by his apparent proposal.
They had talked about eventually getting married, but
not yet. She needed to be more settled. They had to be
more public. A thousand reasons to say 'no' raced
around in her head.

"Mac. Sarah. If you want to wait to get married until
you can walk down the aisle without a cane, I can
wait. If you want to wait until you are fully
reinstated, I can wait. If you want to wait until I
get deployed next year, I can wait. We don't have to
get married on anybody else's time table. We can wait
as long as you want. But I can't wait any longer to be
an official part of your life. I can't wait to tell
our friends. I don't want to wait to know that we are
forever."

Mac felt tears spring to her eyes as the puzzle pieces
slid into place. His unease and jitteriness suddenly
made sense. She had picked up on his unease and
entwined it with her own uncertainty, effectively
multiplying the effects. She smiled. What was she
waiting for? She loved him and he loved her. Decisions
and crossroads be damned. "Yes," she blurted out
before her head could overrule her heart. 

Harm let out a soft whoop of joy as he enveloped her
in a bone crushing hug. As Mac pulled back to kiss
him, she felt another door in her heart spring open.
Her anxiety had vanished, replaced by a sense of
wonder. 

The other shoe had indeed dropped, and her rebirth was
complete.