Disclaimer: If they were mine, season nine would look a whole lot different.
Spoilers: Everything up to ‘Shifting Sands.’
Author Notes: The song used is Vertical Horizon's “Best I Ever Had (Grey Sky Morning)."
Chapter 1
JAG Headquarters
0556 EST
Petty Officer Tiner strode through the halls of JAG headquarters, reveling in the silence. It had long ago become habit for Tiner to arrive first, preparing himself for what would surely be an eventful day. If there was one thing Tiner had learned over the years, life at JAG was rarely boring. So he was surprised to see a light trickling into the darkened bullpen. Slowing his steps, he looked around for the source of the faint glow. He found it seeping through the open blinds of Sarah Mackenzie’s office window. The colonel had returned a little less than a week ago and was already back to being the no nonsense, straight-laced Marine Chief of Staff. She came in early each morning, back straight, eyes ahead, focused on whatever tasks had been laid out for her since her return from her adventure in Paraguay. Normally, Tiner admired her for her ability to bounce back from anything. Today, he resented her for it. Because this particular adventure had cost them all more than they expected. It had cost them Commander Harmon Rabb.
When the Commander resigned his commission to go after the Colonel, everyone in the office felt a mixture of worry and relief. While they knew the mission was dangerous, they trusted Harm to find Mac and bring her home safely. And they trusted that the two would walk through the doors of JAG closer than ever, having faced and defeated death again. They trusted that the Admiral had known that Harm would be back and not process his resignation. They trusted that life would return to the way it was. And they were devastated to learn that their trust had been misplaced.
Harm had found Mac and he had brought her home. But instead of being closer, they were farther apart than anyone had ever seen them. They entered the Admiral’s office with stiff formality and closed off expressions. The entire staff had waited anxiously for the end of their meeting with the Admiral, hoping that when it was over the Commander and the Colonel would return to their respective offices and circle each other warily until time and proximity once again wore them down and mended their relationship. But when the two officers exited the office, Tiner knew that it wouldn’t be that easy this time. The look of shock and dismay on the Colonel’s face was worrisome, but it was the Commander’s expression that threw them all. For the first time since any of them had known him, Harmon Rabb looked defeated. He had walked quietly to his office, picked up a box that he hadn’t had a chance to unpack since his return to JAG after Lt. Singer’s murder, and just as quietly walked out of the bullpen. And the Colonel stood there without moving, without saying a word.
Tiner didn’t understand. No one understood. He had followed her across the world and she couldn’t even follow him across the bullpen. He had given up everything, his career and his wings and his life, and she never uttered a word. No “Are you O.K.?” or “I’m sorry”. But they could have understood that. They could have attributed that to shock, the same shock they felt at hearing that the Admiral had in fact processed the Commander’s resignation. But the next day, after Commander Turner had gone to see Harm and find out what had happened, all sympathy and understanding for the Colonel disappeared. The story spread from Turner to Roberts to Coates to the whole office. After everything that Harmon Rabb had done for her, everything he had given up to save her, Sarah Mackenzie never said thank you. That they could never understand. And that, Tiner thought now as his gazed hardened on the industriously working Colonel, he didn’t think any of them could ever forgive.
Chapter 2
JAG Headquarters
0852 EST
If anyone were to look into Sarah Mackenzie’s office at that moment they would see the very image of a hardworking lawyer engrossed in a case. Only someone looking very closely, or who knew her very well, would notice that the white knuckled hands were not holding the file so much as clutching it like a life preserver. Or that her entire body was rigid with tension, and her eyes were actually fixed on some point far away. But no one at JAG was looking closely at Sarah Mackenzie these days and the only person who knew her well enough to see through her careful facade was gone from JAG. And from the looks of it, he wasn’t coming back.
‘Blood. There’s blood everywhere. Where is it coming from? Whose is it? Is it Clay’s? The missionaries'? The terrorists'? Mac’s eyes strayed from the blurred words in the file to her hands. Hands that were still covered in blood. Blood that had been there from the moment she had looked into the eyes of Saddiq Faad. She had thought it would wash away in the soothing bubbles of a hotel bathtub in Paraguay, under the burning gaze of the only man who mattered, who still thought she was beautiful. But even as she had grabbed the towel to cover herself when Hardy showed up, she had seen the blood lingering on her palms. It never left her sight for long. Most of the time there was only a trace, but there were moments she could practically see it dripping from her fingers. This was one of those moments. She perched on the edge of her chair, frozen, trying desperately to remind herself that her hands were clean, that she was free of Saddiq and that room with its metal cuffs and steel wool and Clayton Webb’s blood. But as the mere thought of Webb’s blood crossed her mind, the rest of her waking nightmare slammed through her in waves. Because now sound had been added to sight. Now she could hear the screams.
‘Not again! Please, Clay, please stop screaming. I promise I’ll do anything you want, just please stop. I’m sorry, I tried, I know it’s my fault but please, Please, PLEASE stop!’ But even as she begged the phantom Clay to be quiet, a more logical portion of her brain questioned what she was hearing. Slowly that portion of her mind took over, dampening the sound until she could bring her full mind to bear on the problem. ‘That doesn’t sound like Clay. I remember what Clay sounded like. I’ll never forget it. This is higher pitched. A woman. That’s it. A woman’s voice. A woman’s scream.’ Hers? No, she didn’t think so. Even in her thoughts she didn’t let herself show the kind of terror she heard in that voice. So whose voice was it? The missionary woman’s? Had she screamed when they pushed her to the ground? When the gun had been aimed at her head? Was that the voice she was hearing? Then suddenly, as her mind was still trying to put together the puzzle, the voice changed. It became louder once again. And now it was calling to her.
“Colonel?”
‘Why is she calling me Colonel? How does she even know I’m in the military? Clay only ever called me Sarah.’
“Colonel Mackenzie?’
‘Oh, God. How does she know my name? What else does she know? What’s happening? What’s happening to me?!
Where....’
“Colonel Mackenzie!”
Mac’s head snapped up as a familiar and most definitely masculine voice cut through the noise in her head. Her gaze immediately fixed on the stern, annoyed face of her commanding officer. As she leapt to attention she felt the slightest tremble begin in her hands and dropping the file, clenched them painfully in front of her. Forcing herself back into her stoic Marine facade, she focused herself on the Admiral.
“Sir, I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you come in.”
The Admiral’s gaze narrowed.
“And did you also not hear Petty Officer Coates calling your name for the past five minutes?”
At this Mac’s eyes registered the blur standing behind and slightly to the side as Jennifer Coates. Jen was looking at her with the same mixture of confusion and annoyance that everyone seemed to feel whenever they looked at JAG’s Chief of Staff. Mac’s eyes darted back to the Admiral as her face flushed with embarrassment.
“No, sir. I’m sorry but I didn’t,” Mac’s voice remained remarkably calm and even considering the current state of her nerves, “What can I do for you, sir?”
As the Admiral opened his mouth to answer her, she saw the look of annoyance slowly morphing into full-fledged anger. And her ragged nerves threatened to shred completely at his response.
“You can start by telling me what the hell is wrong with you!”
Chapter 3
Mac froze at her commanding officer’s demand. What should she say? Did he know something was wrong? Did he suspect that she was not as fine as she pretended? That underneath the cool, take no prisoners marine was a woman who felt herself slowly unraveling? No, he wasn’t looking any harder than the rest of them. He didn’t care to know what was wrong with her; he only cared to know why she didn’t snap to the minute he opened his mouth. Well, she could deal with that easily enough.
“There’s no excuse, sir. I was trying to catch up on my work and I guess I got distracted. I apologize, sir. It won’t happen again.”
She thought she had pulled herself together and handled that well, at least until the Admiral’s next question knocked her off balance again.
“Are you sure you’re O.K. Mac? Do you need more time?”
The concern in his voice and in his gaze nearly reduced her to tears. It felt like forever since someone in the office had shown any concern for her welfare. Why was he the only one who could see that this WAS hurting her, despite whatever her appearance maintained? Why couldn’t Harm...
Harm. Harm had come for her. Had given up his career to try and save her. He’d had to. Because the man standing in front of her had given him no other choice. Because the man standing in front of her was willing to leave her behind. To let her die. And now, now when she was here in front of him and not dead in a remote part of South America, he had the nerve to stand there and pretend to be concerned. He had abandoned her, had punished Harm for coming to find her. He had betrayed his own damn Seal code of never leaving a man behind. Was that why he had refused to take Harm back? So he wouldn’t be faced with his own failures? Well, if he thought firing Harm would make what had happened just go away, he was about to find out just how wrong he was. She knew what part she had to blame for all of this mess. She understood why these people were angry with her. And she knew that although they were just as angry with the Admiral, they would never show him that. As their C.O. he was protected from their wrath. Well she’d be damned if he’d be protected from hers.
“No, sir.” Her tone was coldly respectful as she drew herself up to stare him directly in the face. “I am perfectly capable of fulfilling my obligations at JAG. It was a momentary lapse that will not happen again. I won’t let the team down, sir.”
Her face and tone had remained impassive from the moment she opened her mouth to respond. It remained so as she delivered what they both knew was a deliberate slap in the face. And it was only beneath the respectful facade that Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Mackenzie, U.S.M.C., felt a vicious stab of vindictive pleasure as she watched former Navy Seal and current Judge Advocate General, Admiral A.J. Chegwidden, flinch from her blow. With a barely contained rage, she gazed at him as he drew himself up ramrod straight and tried to overwhelm her with his presence. She had seen him do it before, and it had worked before. Every single time it had worked. On everyone from Tiner to the SecNav. Even now, some part of her was registering the sudden nervous tension from Coates. The forgotten Petty Officer had drawn back instinctively from the Admiral’s anger. Then she looked from the Admiral to the Colonel and could barely suppress a gasp. The message in the Colonel’s eyes was clear and sharp as a dagger.
‘Bring it on, old man. I dare you.’
Coates wasn’t the only one to recognize the look in Mac’s eyes. It was all A.J. could do not to flinch again at the blatant challenge issuing forth from his Chief of Staff. Even as he began to respond, the officer in him took stock of the situation and realized this was not the place to continue this particular showdown. He would not give his people any more of a show, and he would not let Harmon Rabb’s ill-conceived resignation cause him to lose another officer. Because he knew what was behind Mac’s sudden rage and he was absolutely certain that no threat, no punishment would make her back down now. They would finish this confrontation later.
He answered her in a deathly quiet voice that still managed to carry across the entire bullpen, “I’m glad to hear that, Colonel. Staff meeting is in two minutes. I trust you will be on time.”
Without waiting for a response, he turned and strode out the door, leaving a shell-shocked Jen scurrying to catch up to him.
Mac sighed as she began to gather her files. She was somewhat disappointed that the Admiral had backed away from their verbal skirmish. She had been looking forward to telling him exactly what she thought of him. And then, when he booted her out of the service right behind Harm, she had been looking forward to knocking him flat on his two-starred ass. And afterwards maybe stepping on his face with one of her regulation heels. She let out a small giggle at that until she realized he’d be able to see past her regulation heels and right up her regulation skirt. He’d probably enjoy that. With another sigh, she gathered up the rest of her papers and her violent tendencies and headed into the conference room. It was going to be a long week.
Chapter 4
Mac’s anger carried her across the bullpen and into the conference room. It sustained her as she marched to her customary seat next to the admiral. It held on as she set her files on the table and gracefully lowered herself into her chair. But it faltered when she dared to glance up at the officers staring at her from across the table. She knew they were all shocked by her attitude towards the Admiral. They might have expected something like that from Harm, but not from Mac. Especially since they believed she didn’t really care that Harm was gone. Seeing her head rise, Sturgis immediately shifted his gaze to the door, too quickly for Mac to catch the flash of concern in his eyes. Bud, a man never known for tact and discretion, was still staring openly at her. He looked, Mac thought with amusement, like a gaping fish. She considered looking away again before he realized he was staring and became embarrassed, but quickly discarded the idea. It was the first time since Harm had been gone that he had really looked at her and she would not be the first to break the contact. As she sat with her eyes locked on his face, she felt the ache in her heart push a little harder in her chest. She had been so focused on controlling her emotions, locking out the disturbing echoes of her time in Paraguay, and trying desperately to pretend that her shattered relationship with Harm wasn’t tearing at her soul, that she had ignored her relationships with her friends. A sinking feeling settled in her gut as she realized that she wasn’t sure they still wanted to be considered her friends. The stabbing pain of that thought caused her breath to hitch and her heart to race. They were angry with her, so very angry. She had known that since the first day she reported to JAG without Harm, when she had overheard Jen and Tiner ranting to each other about how ungrateful she was after everything Harm had given up for her. She hadn’t said anything to them, slipping away before they noticed her, but she had seen the same sentiment expressed in the faces and voices of everyone she had come in contact with since. They didn’t understand why she was behaving so badly to Harm. They wanted an explanation. When they didn’t get it, they had turned away. And she had been so hurt, and so angry with them for refusing to consider her side of things, that she had pretended that she didn’t care. If she didn’t matter to them, she had decided, they wouldn’t matter to her. Now, sitting here across the table, the distance between them greater than when she had been on the other side of the world, she realized how very wrong she was.
They still mattered. They mattered so much. And it was devastating to realize that it wasn’t enough anymore. For any of them. The damage had been done and it looked to be irreparable. Realizing this, she tore her gaze from Bud before he noticed her returning his stare. She couldn’t take the chance that he would see her pain. Or the chance that he would reject it, reject her. Tears stung her eyes and she fought not to let them escape. She had lost them all, and each one had taken a piece of her with them. They had given her a better family than her parents ever could. But just like her parents, they had walked away. Or she had pushed them away. She just didn’t know anymore. She didn’t know anything. How could she explain her behavior to them, to Harm, when she couldn’t explain it herself? Damn it! Why the hell couldn’t she just figure out what was wrong? Why was she still trapped in Paraguay? Why was she acting like nothing had happened when every moment was still a struggle to breathe? Why hadn’t she been happy to see Harm when he burst through the door of that torture chamber to rescue her? Why had she been so damn angry with him? Why was a part of her still angry with him? Why couldn’t she just thank him for saving her?
Her swirling thoughts came to a standstill with the sound of the conference room door opening. Snapping to attention, she carefully avoided the Admiral’s gaze as he moved to sit at the head of the table. She didn’t want him to notice how precariously she was balanced on the edge of control. Her emotions were swinging erratically from one extreme to the other. She went from numbingly calm to completely enraged with little or no provocation. The scene with the Admiral had proven that. Even now, she knew that if she looked at him and saw the slightest emotion in his eyes, positive or negative, her anger would most likely explode. He was wrong. She maintained that conviction no matter what kind of emotions were filling her. He had made the wrong decision by denying Harm the right to go after her, and he had compounded it by refusing to let Harm back at JAG. But right or wrong, he was still her commanding officer, and she was forced by duty to show him respect. At the very least, she should keep her mouth shut and not make things worse. He could still end her career. And right now, her career was the only thing keeping her afloat. It was the only thing she had left.
Mac reached down to her core and summoned the discipline to lock down the words and emotions swamping her. She called upon all of her Marine Corps training and by the time the Admiral got around to discussing her cases, she knew she was once again presenting the image of the in control Colonel once again. She did her best to spend the meeting with her eyes and ears open. And her mouth shut, answering questions only when absolutely necessary. By the time the meeting ended and the Admiral had dismissed them, she felt in control once again. She was, after all, a Marine, and a Marine never showed weakness. That had been her motto the moment she joined the Corps. It had carried her this far and it would get her past her current obstacles. She would do her job so well that no one would have room to criticize. She would master these bizarre flashbacks and keep them from returning. She would move on alone, just as she had always known she would have to. And most importantly, she would get over Harmon Rabb.
She remained at the table waiting for the others to exit the room and let her newly recovered confidence flow through her. ‘I can do this. I will do this’ she vowed silently as she stood to exit the room. For herself and by herself, she would fix her life. And as she turned to the door and saw Bud and Sturgis talking to the Admiral, she swore that she would close off her heart to all of them. Her gaze fixed on them; she thought to herself that none of them would ever see her bleed again. However, even as she was making that promise to herself, all of her carefully constructed controls were swept away as the violent images once again took hold.
‘Blood. Blood everywhere. On the Admiral. On Sturgis and Bud. It was on their hands and their shirts. And the woman was screaming again. Her screams were echoing through the room. My name. Someone’s calling my name. A man. Clay? No, Clay calls me Sarah now. Whoever’s calling to me is calling me Mac. Who is it? Who’s calling me? What’s happening? Where is all of the blood coming from?’
She tore her mind away from the images flooding through her. Sucking in a deep breath, she forced herself under control and rushed out the door to the sanctuary of her office. Intent on reaching her destination before she broke down under the strain, she never noticed the man still standing near the conference room door. Even if she had noticed she wouldn’t have thought anything of it. She didn’t think anyone was paying any attention to her these days. As she hurried blindly passed, the puzzlement on the man’s face turned to concern. He had noticed something was wrong after the other two officers had left. He had watched her face take on an expression of blind terror, then watched it slide from her as she visibly forced herself to regain control over whatever she had just experienced. And he had watched as she dashed from the room like the hounds of hell were at her heels. Now alone in the conference room, he debated whether or not to follow her. He decided against it. He knew she reacted like a wounded animal when cornered. And considering the way she had been treated since her return, he knew she would greet any sign of concern with suspicion. He was concerned, though. Colonel Mackenzie was still his friend; he had just needed to see her obvious distress to be reminded of what a good friend she was. Now, he just needed to remind her of the same thing. And if he couldn’t convince her, he would go to Harm and force him to find out the truth even if he had to personally kick the man’s six from Union Station to Georgetown to do it. She might not realize it yet, but someone was now paying close attention to Sarah Mackenzie.