Author: Nancy
Disclaimer: JAG and characters do not belong to me. No money made
here.
Classification: Drama with all characters.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Harm faces consequences for some of his "loose cannon"
behaviors.
PART 5
"I can't believe what Dr. Jacobs said!" Mac huffed in frustration as she and Sturgis drove back to JAG headquarters after meeting with John Jacobs's father.
"The man is grieving Mac. Feelings can get very confusing." Sturgis pointed out trying to lessen Mac's anger.
"But he practically accused Harm of murdering his son! Harm was trying to keep his son out of prison."
"Maybe Dr. Jacobs is feeling some guilt and displacing it on Harm." Sturgis interjected thoughtfully.
"You think Dr. Jacobs is feeling responsible for his son's death?"
"You're the one who figured out that Jacobs had received treatment for his drug use using his friend's name. Who do you think helped get him admitted? I believe any parent who has a child that goes astray tends to feel somewhat responsible whether it's warranted or not?" Sturgis looked over to Mac who was digesting his theory.
*******
The boredom and hopelessness seemed to enclose on Harm to almost claustrophobic proportions as the days passed. The ever-present antagonism that the inmates directed towards him did not help his dwindling self-esteem. So Harm kept to himself and maintained a safe distance from the other prisoners and especially Frank and Walt. He looked out of the small steel reinforced window of his cell and stared aimlessly allowing his mind to drift.
"Don't let them get you down," Alfred P.'s voice echoed from another distant memory. Six year old Harm was dejectedly tossing a ball up in the air after not being chosen to play softball with a group of boys on the playground. Harm sighed deeply not responding to Alfred's attempts to cheer him up. "You want to make some paper airplanes and see whose can fly the furthest?" Alfred persisted.
Harm dropped the ball and joined Alfred P. in designing airplanes from sheets of writing paper. A quiet joy replaced the feelings of rejection as Harm launched his paper phantom flyers higher into the clear blue sky. The remainder of the recess period passed quickly, and the boys who had been playing ball gathered around watching in awe as the paper jets caught the breeze and seemed to disappear in the clouds.
Harm took the letter he had written to his mother and instead of placing it into an envelope, he folded it into an airplane and sailed it across the room where it landed in the sink. He stretched back on his bunk and visualized flying at twenty thousand feet and being free.
*******
"Colonel, you and Commander Turner will leave immediately to go to the Roosevelt to investigate that helo crash that occurred early this morning on her deck." Admiral Chegwidden announced while handing files to the two officers stating before him.
"Yes, sir," Mac responded with a slight frown that caught the Admiral's eye.
"Colonel, do you have a problem with this assignment?"
"No sir, yes sir."
"Well don't keep me in suspense Colonel. Which is it?"
"Sir, I wanted to continue to look for evidence that could clear Commander Rabb before the trail became too cold," Mac replied hesitantly.
"Commander Turner would you please give us a moment." AJ looked to the other officer who immediately complied. "Okay Mac, I know that you are feeling responsible for Rabb's current predicament, but no one held a gun to his head to get him to sign that confession."
"Sir, he never really confessed to anything. As I recall his statement only said he took full responsibility for any inappropriate sharing of evidence."
"Damn lawyers." AJ whispered under his breath. "Look Mac, when Harm signed that document he basically signed his career away and he knew that. If you want to help him, then you just continue to be his friend. In the meantime dumping your own career will not help his."
"Sir, if I were in his place which I have come close in my past, he wouldn't give up on me...unlike some others whom he considered friends," she added with a twinge of bitterness.
"Colonel, I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that, and you're going to get your sea bag and join Commander Turner. Dismissed!"
AJ stared out his office window contemplating Mac's stinging words. Maybe there was some truth to her statement. Had he looked at the situation with objectivity or had he quickly convicted them. Harm could be impulsive and hot headed, but he was honorable.
*********
Harm stood in the cafeteria line as the servers dropped spoonfuls of vanilla ice cream on the stainless steel trays. This meal was something he could eat. "Ah my favorite," he muttered only to be met with a sneer from the inmate who was serving the dessert. The man scooped up an extra large serving and then spat on it just before dropping it on Harm's tray. Several prisoners laughed as Harm silently accepted the behavior and moved on down the line.
Harm's table mate, Green Bay as usual reached across to take what Harm didn't eat. "Don't take the ice cream." Harm whispered. Green Bay frowned. "The server spit on it." Harm explained. Green Bay grunted an acknowledgement and left the table hoping to convince the servers to give him seconds.
Frank took the opportunity to sit directly in front of Harm while Walt plopped next to him. "Why look Walt, we get the opportunity to sit with our esteemed guest," he taunted and bit into an apple from Harm's tray.
Walt reached over, scooped up a large spoonful of Harm's melting ice cream and stuffed it into his mouth with a satisfied smirk. Green Bay returned in time to witness the action. "Hey, Walt ate that ice cream that Duke spit in." Green Bay said loudly and the entire room burst out laughing. For the first time in weeks Harm laughed. Walt stiffened in anger ready to pounce on Harm, but glanced at Green Bay who placed a large restraining hand on Walt's shoulder and looked threateningly at Frank. No one messed with Green Bay and now it was official no one messed with the JAG.
Harm could see Alfred P. grinning and his young squeaky voice, "You know what they say...what goes around comes around." He didn't really understand it when he first heard it, but soon found it to be true many times over.
********
Several days passed without any incident and without any visitors. Harm had a nagging thought that his friends were beginning to forget him as they became busy with their own lives. Mac had tried to send word through Bud that she would be away on assignment for a while, but Bud was sent to Norfolk almost immediately after Mac and Sturgis left for the Mediterranean to the Roosevelt. Even Harriet was homebound with little AJ who had developed a case of the chickenpox.
Once enough evidence was obtained charges were filed, and Mac and Sturgis remained to serve as council for a court martial convened on the Roosevelt for the LSO officer charged with negligence in the helo crash.
Harm finally got up the nerve to write his mother and explain his situation. He tried to make it sound like he was handling the situation better than he was and reassured her that he should be out soon without any damage to his career. He added that he would rather she not come to see him, which she ignored. Her visit though motivated by love and concern only made him feel more defeated and embarrassed. His mother's pained expression and suppressed tears were like a sharp sword into his heart. His actions though noble had consequences he had not considered and hurting his mother was about as difficult as facing the reality that his career was in shambles.
He had tried to make light of his predicament when his mother and stepfather tried to persuade him to let them hire a private attorney. He managed to convince them that Mac, Bud, Sturgis were very capable of helping him, and the fewer people involved the better. After they left he felt he sunk deeper into his dark quagmire as he lay in his bunk. He closed his eyes and fell into a deep-exhausted sleep.
He was sitting in his room looking at a picture of he and his dad. It was his favorite, the one where his dad lifted him into the cockpit of a jet. It had been months since his father was reported missing. Trish, his mother had just hung up in tears from talking with someone from the Navy concerning his dad. She was unaware that he had come home early and was listening to the one sided conversation. He heard her anguished filled words that he was probably being tortured in some dirty POW camp and her accusations that the country had forgotten about her husband and that no one was doing anything to find him. He quietly retreated to his room and closed the door. Images of his dad being tortured brought tears to his young face. He was so afraid for his dad. He vowed that he would never forget his dad. He would find him and save him. No one would ever make his mother cry again.
Alfred P. stuck his head through the open window of Harm's room. "What ya doing?" He asked and climbed into the room pushing up glasses that had slipped to the tip of his nose.
"Just thinkin," Harm turned his head away trying to hide his tears.
"Must be something sad, you don't look to happy," Alfred scooted up on the end of the bed. He always had a way of getting Harm to talk about his feelings.
"It's my dad. No one cares that he's missing cept Mom and me and Grandma Sarah." Harm was sprawled across the bed. His long skinny legs hung off one side of the twin bed while his head and arms off the other side.
"I care."
"Thanks, but that won't help find him." Harm sighed deeply. "Mom asked my dad's wingman Tom Boone to help, but he was sent back for another tour in Vietnam. I've been praying every night for God to find him, but I haven't got an answer. Maybe he doesn't care either."
"Whenever God closes a door he always opens a window," Alfred P. said hopefully.
Harm looked up and smiled at his freckle-faced friend's wisdom, "So God left my window open, and you climbed in?"
"Maybe."
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