A/N: Oh dear…another story. This means I have four 'active' stories going…Letters to Harm is still very active; Conquering Never and An Unlikely Angel will be finished, but apparently my muse has ADHD and needs to have multiple balls (stories!) in the air. Actually, I kind of suspect I have a little ADHD, inattentive type…which has gotten worse with job, kids, house…but that's neither here nor there and has nothing to do with this story. :)

Yet another post-Paraguay story. Crappy storyline, but what fodder for fan fiction! Go easy on our peeps here—they're under stress.

Someone (you know who you are) suggested that since we couldn't find a particular story, I should write it…well, I feared writing something exactly the same, so this one will take the place of it.

Gone

Chapter 1: Prologue

1643 Local

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, VA

It had taken more than a couple of months to get everything in order, but at last freedom was in sight. There had been cases to finish, an apartment to clear out, a car to sell, and travel arrangements to be made. Letters had been written…well, only three, actually—but she felt they were all equally important. The first was her letter of resignation, the second was for her Uncle Matt, to be mailed after she visited him one last time. The last, and by far the hardest to write, was her farewell to her godson, AJ Roberts. It saddened her that she wouldn't be around for the birth of AJ's little brother or sister, but, as she suspected she wouldn't be a welcome presence in the baby's life, it was probably easier to be long gone before the child entered the world.

Mac checked her watch. It was nearly time to meet with the admiral, so she logged out of her computer, stood up and straightened her uniform, and closed up her office. With her briefcase and cover in hand, she headed across the bullpen to the admiral's office, her new wristwatch digging unpleasantly into her rather pale flesh.

The timepiece that now graced her left wrist irritated her to no end. It was uncomfortable and she really didn't care for the design, the color of the band, nor the bright gold of its buckle and hands. In the quiet she could hear the second hand ticking and she feared it alone would drive her mad. She'd chuck the thing, but the problem was, ever since she'd returned from Paraguay, her time sense had been sketchy at best. After being late to more than one appointment, she'd finally bought the first watch within regulation she'd seen, in the first department store she'd passed on the way home one night.

On the way to the admiral's office, she smiled brightly at Lt. Roberts as she passed him standing at the copy machine, tossing a 'hello, Bud' at the now quite confused lieutenant. Lt. Colonel MacKenzie hadn't spoken to anyone unless it was work-related, much less smiled at anyone, in months. Mac nearly laughed at the man's expression, feeling lighter than she had since before Harm had been accused of Lt. Singer's murder. She tried not to explore these emotions too thoroughly. After all, there really was nothing to be happy about in this entire situation.

Petty Officer Jennifer Coates greeted her as she walked into the admiral's anteroom. Her 'the admiral is waiting for you, ma'am' was said with barely concealed disgust, but for once Mac didn't let it bother her. She smiled at the young petty officer in the same manner she'd smiled at Lt. Roberts, her smile widening when she noted Jen's eyes narrowed in suspicion. She was sure that the younger woman was wondering what the colonel was up to, or maybe she was wondering if Lt. Colonel MacKenzie was intoxicated or high on something. Once again, Mac had to hold back a laugh as she thanked Jen and pulled open the door to Admiral Chegwidden's inner sanctum.

The meeting did not take long. The admiral read her letter of resignation, sighed, and told her that this time he would have to process it immediately. This wasn't the same situation as when she left to join Dalton Lowne in private practice. Admiral Chegwidden hadn't wanted her to leave at the time and had held onto her resignation in hopes Mac would come to her senses. This time, it was clear he was as relieved by her resignation as she was. It was wholly a win-win situation. She shook AJ's hand, grinned winningly at him—she really missed smiling—and thanked him for allowing her the experience of working at JAG Headquarters. He looked at her nonplussed as she stood at attention for one of the last times, then dismissed her with only two weeks left to go before she was on terminal leave.

She hoped she would make it.

Two weeks later…

0755 Local

Mac's Apartment

Georgetown

Mac gave her apartment one last glance. There were still a few pieces of furniture remaining; the new tenant had expressed interest in having a furnished apartment. Her bed, the dining room table, the couch and a chair along with a few accent tables were left, and Mac sincerely hoped the young woman would find greater happiness here than she had.

Last night had been difficult. Once she'd made her decision, she had felt an overwhelming sense of relief and near-giddiness, but then, as she lay in her bed one last time, the reasons why she had chosen to end things here in this manner wouldn't let her rest.

It had all started with Harm's arrest for Lt. Singer's murder. She hadn't been allowed to visit him in the brig, and it tore her apart. It was not so much that he was there suffering and she wanted to be there to comfort him…but more that she had willingly followed the admiral's orders to the letter, not bucking her CO's decree as Harm would have done had the situation been reversed. The truth was that she was terribly hurt that Harm hadn't let her in on his investigation into Singer's pregnancy and had felt some satisfaction in 'punishing' him for it. The guilt over that was crushing and she had reacted badly…if one considered running off on an ill-considered mission posing as someone's pregnant wife 'reacting badly'.

Then came the days of listening to Webb scream as they tortured him, nearly being tortured herself, only to be rescued by her very own knight in shining armor. Okay, the armor was really just a denim jacket, but the results had been the same—except the damsel in distress didn't fall into the arms of the knight and they didn't ride off into the sunset together…

They'd instead ridden off in a biplane right into a tree. She'd said horrible things to him, angry that he would only speak in riddles, would never give her a straight answer as to why he threw away everything to find her. When she pressed him on it, he'd wanted to 'table' the discussion. In retrospect, tabling the discussion had been the best idea, but she knew his reasons for it were that he didn't feel that way about her and not because he knew she'd been in no condition to talk about anything other than what she would be doing in the next five minutes. She'd been exhausted, couldn't close her eyes or sit in silence without hearing Clay's cries of pain, and the one man whom she loved most in the world didn't stop once to hold her, to tell her she'd be okay, to tell her he was there for her.

She'd just been another mission.

Mac had childishly wanted to provoke him, get him to fight for her, find out once in for all if he loved her just as she loved him. She'd thrown that never in his face, and although something flickered in his eyes—regret, sadness, she didn't know—he'd stood there stoically, let her get into the cab, never protested it in the ride to the airport, never had one argument against it during the long flight, and didn't stop her as she hailed her own cab and left him standing at yet another taxi stand. Harm didn't call to check on her before they'd both shown up at JAG Headquarters on that awful day when she'd stood next to him as Admiral Chegwidden hurled insult after insult at the now former naval commander. She'd tried to protest on his behalf, tried to tell the admiral that the man had saved her life, but, to be honest, she'd been confused, had difficulty following their conversation, was tired beyond all measure having not truly slept since the flight home, and it had just hit her that the admiral actually refused to let Harm go after her. Admiral Chegwidden wouldn't send him, wouldn't give the man leave that he was due to go to her, and basically would have let her die a horrible, painful, tortuous death.

Mac's mouth only had asked permission to return to duty, because her brain was still trying to process what had just happened. Harm was not coming back. The admiral didn't actually care that she'd come back. She was hurt and angry with Harm. Harm didn't love her. She was just a friend. A friend for whom he'd given up everything…a friend who'd never thanked him for that…

Mac nearly cried in the middle of the bullpen when she realized she'd let Harm believe she wasn't grateful for his sacrifice. She had wanted to go after him after he'd thrown his cover to Tiner, but Harm had then given her such a look of absolute coldness that it literally made her shiver.

She decided to thank him some other time.

Life at JAG then become more and more onerous. She'd become the office pariah, was spoken to only as it pertained to a case or her duties as chief of staff, and after a couple of incidents with her supposed best friends, she decided it was time to leave. There would be no transfer; where once she'd been proud to serve, she now saw herself as unworthy. She had to be; why else would her CO have been willing to leave her behind in that South American hell?

Mac knew it wouldn't make a difference if she were transferred; she would still no doubt be unable to command the respect due a senior officer. The people here could barely hide their scorn for her, and she feared that somehow any new junior officers in a new post would follow suit. They'd pick up on the fact that she was wholly undeserving of their regard purely on the basis of her rank and then behave accordingly. Her leadership would do nothing for the good order of the Corps.

After Harm had walked out of JAG, Mac had given him a few days to cool down and then tried to call him. And call him…her multiple messages were left unanswered, and when sometime after the fifth one she'd stood outside Clay's hospital room listening to him welcome Harm to the brotherhood, she knew she needed to see him in person. Mac had left the hospital unseen and driven directly to Harm's apartment to wait for him. Thankfully, she didn't have to wait long…

Flashback…

"Get out."

Mac whipped around, startled, her chocolate-amber eyes meeting his icy blue-greys. She'd let herself into Harm's apartment, ignoring the guilt that lanced through her as she'd used her emergency key. She figured if she were already in here when he arrived, it would be harder for him to avoid her.

"Harm, I— "

"Save it. I'm not in the mood."

"Wait, Harm…I need to talk to you, to apologize—"

Harm interrupted her with a bitter laugh. "Apologize? For what? I mean, your unwavering support for me with the admiral was sooo appreciated," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "But, admiral…he saved my life!" he mocked, and she felt her eyes fill with tears. "After that half-hearted endorsement, why would you feel the need to apologize?"

By then, Harm was looming above her, glaring down at her with…was that hatred? Yes. It had to be…

"Look, Mac…if I had wanted to talk to you, I would have answered the phone instead of listening to you ramble on on my machine. You said everything you needed to down in Paraguay. Lucky for you, you don't have to put up with me anymore. You can go play nursemaid to your new boyfriend, cut up his food for him…maybe, I don't know, chew it up for him first…don't worry about ol' Harm."

Their 'conversation' had clearly gotten out of hand. "He's not my—"

Harm rolled his eyes. "That kiss you laid on him says differently."

Mac was once again having difficulty following a conversation. Harm sounded…jealous. But why? It was obvious he didn't even like her. As was growing common, her head started to pound as she tried to focus. "Harm…please don't be jealous…" She didn't mean to say that, but her addled mind wasn't cooperating today. She really should have picked a better time to come here. A snort from Harm startled her for the second time since she'd been here.

"Jealous? You've got to be kidding me, Mac! You think I wanna end up like your husband and boyfriends? Webb's already nearly been killed—and I'm not convinced he's going to survive you again. Doesn't sound like there's much to be jealous about, Mac."

There it was again. The reference to Mac's dismal success rate with relationships. Her tears freed themselves and slid down her cheeks. Harm turned away in disgust.

"I'm s-sorry to bother you, Harm."

"Oh, please, don't worry your pretty little head about it." He turned back to her and motioned toward the door. "Goodbye, Mac."

Mac felt she had no choice but to obey. "Goodbye, Harm." She walked to the door and pulled it open. She stepped into the hall, but then Harm's soft voice stopped her.

"Mac?" He sounded tentative, almost contrite. Maybe they could still salvage this. She turned around.

"Yeah, Harm?" There was a hopeful lilt in her tone.

"The next time somebody gives up 'all they've got' to save you, you could at least thank him." The door slammed in her face.

"But, I was-" she said to nothing.

The next run-in that started her on her current path occurred in the break room a week later…

Flashback…

"Hey, you two…have you, um, heard from Harm?"

Mac had found both Bud and Harriet in the break room. The couple had been talking while they waited for a new pot of coffee to brew, but had stopped abruptly once she'd entered the room.

Harriet looked her up and down. "No, ma'am. Have you?"

Harriet's tone was not disrespectful, but it wasn't…respectful. Mac chose to let it go; tensions were high lately since Harm hadn't been allowed back, and, given that it was her fault, she figured she could cut everybody some slack. She shook her head in response to Harriet's reply.

Bud spoke up then. "He did send AJ a birthday gift."

"Oh, that was nice of him," Mac commented inanely. The coffee finished brewing, and Bud motioned for Mac to pour a cup for herself first.

"Yes," Harriet responded. "And AJ insisted on calling him right away to thank him. Such a polite little boy, don't you think, ma'am?" Mac looked up at her sharply, but Harriet's gaze was the picture of innocence. Mac suspected it had gotten around that the ungrateful colonel hadn't thanked the commander for throwing away his career for her.

"Um, yeah…he's a sweetheart." Harriet's grin was smug. Mac blinked at her a few times, then murmured something about needing to get back to work. She left the room, leaving her steaming mug on the counter.

Bud brought it to her a few minutes later and started to say something that sounded like an apology, but Mac cut him off, dismissing him after thanking him for the coffee. Once he was gone, she tipped the dark liquid into the wastebasket. Her stomach had started to hurt, and the thought of the bitter liquid now nauseated her. Unfortunately, she'd been hoping the caffeine would help her stay awake; she hadn't slept well the night before, nor the night before that, nor the…well, no need to kid herself. She was barely sleeping at all and hadn't since…she honestly couldn't remember.

Today, though, she found she couldn't even focus enough to defend Santa Clause on a breaking and entering charge, so she'd gone to the admiral and asked to secure early because she wasn't feeling well. It was the truth, but Mac still squirmed inwardly as Admiral Chegwidden studied her, a feigned look of concern on his face. After several painful seconds, he told her to take tomorrow too if she wasn't one hundred percent. Mac assured him that she didn't think that would be necessary, thanked him, and left without being dismissed. She didn't do it on purpose; she truly forgot the normal protocol as she left a worried CO behind her.

Mac couldn't know that the admiral was suffering from his own guilt over the situation. He'd noticed the dark circles under his chief of staff's eyes deepening, watched her weight drop before his eyes, and regretted everything since he'd forbidden his staff to visit Harm in the brig. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do about that now. The thought of it made him surly and difficult, and it further convinced his favorite marine that he didn't care about her.

No one cared about her, really…and she was fast reaching the point where she couldn't take it anymore.

The day she had secured early, she'd gone home, taken a double dose of Benadryl®, and woke up groggy and nauseated four hours later. She'd vomited up the crackers she'd tried to eat to settle her stomach, then fallen asleep again, not waking up until 1100 the next day. Obviously, she was already quite late for work, and since the admiral told her to take today if needed, she decided to stay home. She called in, apologized profusely to the admiral for not calling sooner, totally missing the relief in his voice when he told her it was okay.

She also didn't notice his relief when she showed up at little AJ's late birthday party the next day.

It was that party, however, that convinced her to go through with the plan that had been formulating in her mind for the last couple of weeks. She was no longer welcome in this world of hers, and it was time she left it behind…

Flashback…

Mac stepped into the Roberts' kitchen and asked Harriet if there was anything she could do to help. Harriet declined, despite the multitude of food-laden trays surrounding her. Mac shrugged inwardly; she couldn't blame the woman for not wanting her involved. Mac stood awkwardly in the kitchen for a few moments, lost in thought, until Harriet's voice brought her back to reality.

"Was there something you needed, ma'am?" Mac refrained from asking her to call her Mac as she would have done before, then asked a certain question before she could stop herself.

"Is Harm coming today?"

Harriet nearly dropped the tray of fruit she held in her hands. She recovered quickly, shaking her head, telling Mac that Harm hadn't known what his schedule with the CIA would be like, so he'd thought it best to decline." Mac nodded. "But that was after he found out you'd be here."

Ah…so that's how it is, she thought as her eyes widened at Harriet's rudeness. The plans she'd been merely toying with coalesced into something solid. It was time to act.

"Well, Harriet, I actually have to get going." They hadn't even had cake or opened gifts yet. "Maybe you could see if Harm's free now?" Harriet looked surprised, and Mac nearly giggled. She said her goodbyes to the younger woman, then sought out little AJ. It broke her heart when the sweet little four-year-old cried as she told him she needed to leave, and when he asked why she was crying, she told him it was because she was going to miss him so much. With one last 'I love you' she was gone.

Back in the present, Mac locked her apartment door behind her and left. She had a plane to catch.

The next day…

1132 Local

United States Disciplinary Barracks

Ft. Leavenworth, KS

It has been hard leaving her uncle for the last time, but it had needed to be done. She'd hugged and kissed him goodbye, not bothering to hide her tears, joked with him as she always had, then left the building. She tossed certain items into the nearest garbage receptacle, no longer needing them, found a mailbox in which to drop her letter to Uncle Matt, then drove back to the airport in Kansas City. She returned her rental car, not caring that they were going to charge her an arm and a leg since she hadn't bothered to refuel it, then entered the terminal.

A few hours later, planes were landing and taking off again. They flew overhead, filled with people going to places unknown, the bright sun glinting off their silver wings.

But Sarah MacKenzie wasn't on any of them...

Because Sarah MacKenzie was dead.

End Prologue