Author: Teacup
Subject: Trust in a Time of Exhaustion - HBX June 2008 Challenge

Trust in a Time of Exhaustion
By Teacup
HBX June 2008 Challenge

Mac: Why are you doing this?
Harm: Because it's the right thing to do.
I've stopped trying to stop you.

Disclaimer: Don't own JAG, but I do own this little derivative work.

A/N: This takes place during Season 10.


Trust in a Time of Exhaustion

She just wanted to lay herself down. It had been a long day. And she hadn’t been sleeping well. Ok, she hadn’t been sleeping at all.

Harm had come over that evening with the reason of asking her advice regarding a case he was working on. She suspected it was just a pretext to bring her dinner, which he did. She knew that he was concerned about her despite, … and maybe even because of, her efforts to push him away.

She didn’t want to keep him at a distance; it was just her nature in times of personal hurt and disappointment. She withdrew. Perhaps it was the lessons of her childhood. Trust no one in the matters of her heart and soul; it will only lead to more pain. Depend on no one but herself; everyone else will abandon her.

But she wasn’t thinking about these things this evening. She was just … tired … and achy. They had already cleaned up the dinner mess, and she found herself in her bedroom looking at the closed bathroom door, the light peeking out the bottom as evidence of its occupation. Harm was making a pit stop there before he hit the road to go home.

She inexplicably lost the power to keep herself up just those few minutes more before he left. Instead, she gave in to the pull of her bed. She stretched out on top of the comforter and laid down on her stomach, her head cradled in her folded arms.

She heard the water running and knew that Harm would be out in less than a minute. But still, she laid there, head turned, eyes open, staring at the bathroom door.

He did emerge moments later and stopped short when he saw her.

She should get up, she told herself. Stand up, walk him to the door, send him on his way, and then she could get ready for bed … despite the early hour. Not that she would sleep, but at least she could collapse.

But she found that she couldn’t move. Didn’t have the energy. Didn’t have the will.

Surprisingly, Harm did not say anything. He eyed her curiously and then walked around to approach the bed from the opposite side. She could no longer see him, but she didn’t care. She didn’t feel the need to move her head.

Mac felt the mattress move and heard the springs shift with his weight as he sat on the side of her bed. She knew that he had turned so that only one leg was on the floor; she could feel the thigh of his other leg against her side.

Oddly, he found that her position, and the fact that she chose to remain that way, was comforting to him. He might have thought that her back to him was yet again a symbol of her shutting him out, a sign that he was not welcome in her life.

But it occurred to him, that normally if … most anyone, under any circumstances that he could think of, had walked into her bedroom to find her in this position, no matter how tired she was, she would sit up immediately. Or, at a minimum, she would roll herself over on her back to face them. More than that, if she knew someone else was around, she generally would never have put herself on her stomach to begin with. Because that was a position of vulnerability.

Based on survival instinct: Never leave your back to potential enemies, unknown entities, … or even your friends if they might hurt you … or need you. Resting inevitably made people more vulnerable as it was, putting their guards down, setting their senses and consciousness on a setting of ‘barely functioning.’ But how people rested, he thought, might be telling.

He had read an article once about sleep positions … and what they meant about someone’s personality. He didn’t really believe the results of the study; he didn’t even remember what they were anymore, but it did get him to thinking that people’s positions would likely change depending on their subconscious feelings of the circumstances and the environment around them.

When in unknown territory or with unknown people, you wouldn’t sleep on your stomach. At the very least, you want to be able to open your eyes quickly to survey the situation on a moment’s notice. More than that, you’d want to keep both ears unblocked so that any alarming sound would wake you. And if awoken, you’d want your hands and legs to be free to defend yourself or run, whether from or to something.

Those instincts, he figured, might carry into the subconscious, … to dangers and fears that weren’t physical. So the fact that she was lying down, leaving her back to him, seemed to mean that maybe … she trusted him. She felt comfortable with him.

Enough philosophy, Rabb. Or psychology. Maybe it just meant that she was too exhausted and disheartened to even care about protecting herself anymore.

Besides, what did he really know about her body language, except that she’d been distant and standoffish with him for some time now? And much too professional for his liking. He wanted his friend back, … truly back. And more. He wanted her to let him in. Into her life, … into her heart.

Harm looked at her form and was overcome with an urge to reach out, even though he knew he was risking her resistance, … her rejection.

His hand wouldn’t stay to himself any longer. He hesitantly reached over and gently grazed his fingertips over her back. Despite his cautious approach, she flinched slightly at his touch. Rather than backing away, he placed his palm firmly against her spine, assuring her.

Mac didn’t know why she had startled at his touch. It was almost expected, … anticipated, … given that he had said nothing. But she enjoyed the warm feeling of his hand on her back, and her body relaxed.

Even though he felt her ease, he could still sense tension in her. Not from his touch, but from … everything. From the stress that he knew had been festering inside of her.

He rubbed her back with his hand as one would a baby, offering comfort and security. But then he transitioned into kneading her muscles a little. He was somewhat surprised that she had not objected … yet.

Lately, she had not been accepting of much of any kind of help. But as long as he was getting away with it, he brought his second hand into the action and began massaging her back in earnest.

The muscles were so tight, he wondered at just how much distress she was suffering from, keeping to herself.

There was a little voice inside of Mac telling her to stop him. Not because he was being inappropriate in any way, but … she didn’t want to rely on him. Why was he still here anyhow? Not just tonight, but always. … Why did he want to be a part of her screwed up life?

Her thoughts continued to drift, but to tranquility. … It was the effects of his soothing ministrations. Her eyes closed, and she let herself trust him.

Harm wanted to get a better angle and access to the back muscles on her other side, which was impossible from his current position. Very slowly, without removing his hands from her, he maneuvered himself, straddling over Mac’s prone form, so that he rested on his knees, hovering above her.

He could see the side of her face now. She had opened her eyes again at his movement, but she still didn’t stir. Her countenance was slightly more peaceful than it had been earlier that day, but she still looked exhausted.

He was making his way to her lower back, when she felt a slight twinge. He noticed, and, being concerned about her endometriosis, he broke the silence.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No,” she answered. “Just a stiff muscle. Don’t stop,” she requested.

He resumed his movements, but told her, “Let me know if I hurt you.”

That was a loaded request, she thought. It wasn’t the physical pains that made her suffer. Not really. It was the hurt on the inside.

And Harm had hurt her in the past. In fact, she had suffered more because of him than from most other people, … but only because she cared so much, because he meant so much to her. She couldn’t blame him. And she knew that she had hurt him too.

But he had not hurt her recently. For months now, he had just been … here … for her. Waiting.

“Harm,” she called quietly. With her peripheral vision she could see his face, so focused on his task at hand.

“Yeah?” he responded.

“Why are you doing this?”

His eyebrows raised, but then he smiled. “Because it’s the right thing to do. Your muscles are tighter than the security at Fort Knox. You need to relax,” he advised her. “I want to help,” he added, “… your muscles, at least.”

She nodded her head slightly, accepting his answer. But it made him wonder. He didn’t think she would have allowed him to do this several months ago, weeks ago even.

“Mac?”

“Yeah?”

“… Why are you letting me do this?”

She snorted out a quiet laugh at that. “I’ve stopped trying to stop you.”

She became concerned when his motions stopped at hearing her answer. Perhaps that had sounded too callous, as if she just didn’t care anymore.

The truth was that Harm wasn’t sure how to interpret her response. Was it simply a dismissal? Was it mere surrender because she didn’t have the energy to fight him off? Or was she ready to let him in?

And did her allowing him to do things apply to more than just letting him give her a back rub and bring her dinner?

Her soft voice interrupted his musings. “… Because I like it.”

She hoped he would understand that she really did appreciate and enjoy his efforts.

“You like back rubs?” he asked, resuming the massage.

She yawned. “Yeah.”

“Maybe for your birthday I should get you a certificate for a masseuse,” he suggested.

“Only if it’s you,” she mumbled. Goodness, she must be tired if she was admitting that, she thought.

The comment surprised him. “I’m honored. But you know, I’m no professional.”

“… I like you,” her sleepy voice sounded.

He smiled at her ambiguous statement. “Well, I like you too, Mac.”

She thought, ‘I guess you do, or you wouldn’t be here,’ but she was feeling too tired to even manage that sentence. Somehow, all that came out was, “…. mmm,” followed by another yawn.

“You’re ready to fall asleep, Marine.”

That sounded to her like he was going to call it quits and leave her be.

‘Don’t go, don’t go, don’t go,’ she begged in her mind. For some reason she knew that once he left, her insomnia would be back full force. This was the closest she felt to really drifting off to sleep in a long time.

The mattress shifted again, but she didn’t have to wonder what he was doing, because his face appeared before her. He had swung his leg over her and now stretched out beside her. Laying on his side, he propped his head up with his elbow, but left his other hand smoothly rubbing her shoulder.

With the distance shortened and eye contact made, though barely, since her lids were heavy, the opportunity for easier communication presented itself. Mac pushed herself to speak.

“… ’you be here when I wake?” she asked, efficiently cutting down on the number of words she needed to say to be understood. When desperate for sleep, the first word in a sentence was largely overrated.

The question took Harm by surprise, but he didn’t show it. “You want me to be?”

She nodded.

His face showed a marginal amount of confusion and even panic regarding how to interpret the request.

“Here … with you … on your bed …?” he checked.

He wasn’t entirely sure what she was asking of him, and he didn’t want to overstep. Did she just want him nearby in her apartment? This arrangement seemed precarious, and he was worried he would mess things up.

Even in her exhausted state, Mac internally chuckled at his nervousness. Always the gentleman. She smiled and then half-mumbled, “… ‘trust you.”

She did trust him … in everything, she was realizing. It was time for her to let him in if he really wanted to be there. But those thoughts would have to hold. The sandman was getting ready to claim her.

Harm took her abbreviated response to mean that he was welcome to be right where he was. He allowed his head to drop down on the beige pillow, next to the matching one she rested upon. The hand he had on her shoulder moved to gently cup her cheek.

“Sleep, Sarah,” he instructed, giving her permission to fade away.

She began to comply, when her brain processed what he’d said, and her eyes opened just a sliver. “… ’call’d me Sarah,” she observed.

He rarely called her that. Only when … well, when he was expressing care for her, when he was exposing himself to some degree in regards to the status of their relationship, in moments when … well, she’d have to analyze that later.

“Is that ok?” he asked.

She smiled. “… ’like it.”

It sounded nice from his lips. It sounded special.

“I’ll be here,” he assured her.

Her oratory abilities had shut down now, but she did feel the urge to reposition herself.

She hoisted herself up on her elbows just enough to turn on her side, mostly in the same spot that she was. But when she seemed to be edging a bit closer to Harm, he automatically rolled on his back to give her the room she needed.

But it wasn’t space she wanted. She was too tired to fight against her basic instinct to seek out his comfort. Before Harm knew what was happening she had cuddled up to him and laid her head on his chest.

Given his immediate involuntary response to her initiating this closeness, he thought for sure that Mac could not only hear, but feel his heart thumping beneath her. But it would calm, and he hoped it would be a soothing rhythm to her.

He instinctively put one arm around her, and with his other hand he caressed her hair, face, shoulder, side. When he noticed her content expression, he smiled. There was no mistaking this sleep position.

She was allowing him to protect her and comfort her while she rested. She was trusting him during this time of natural vulnerability.

It was too early for him to sleep, but he didn’t feel trapped; he was where he wanted to be. He didn’t feel that he was being kept from doing something useful with the hours left of the day; he was offering what she needed right now. That made him feel especially productive.

Harm could admit that he liked the fact that she seemed to need him right now. He was just hoping that she realized that he needed her just as much.

He didn’t know how things would be when she awoke, but he had the distinct feeling that they had made some progress tonight. Maybe it was just that her defenses were down due to her exhaustion. But, even so, he hoped she was learning that she didn’t need those shields to keep him out.

They both needed to drop their guards and trust each other. It was only together that they could truly find peace and contentment like this.

As if to agree with his thoughts, Mac stirred slightly, and, even while sleeping, managed to catch his hand in hers. She clasped onto him and brought their joined grasp up near her face. She nuzzled her nose against his hand and then settled with his arm cradled close. He could feel her soft exhales against his fingers as she held onto him, in a gesture of protection.

Conscious or not, she was taking care of him too.


The End