Author: Nancy
Disclaimer: JAG and characters do not belong to me. I don't make
money from doing this.
Classification: PG-13
Category: Drama, Angst, Romance (Harm and Mac of course)
Rating: PG-13
Summary: This is another sequel to "The Last Goodbye" which was
written in October 2001.This also
follows 'Standing Alone' also found at the same site.
The Last Goodbye was written before Bud lost his leg on the show. In
this story Harm lost his leg and is dealing with the aftermath. No
infringement is intended with the current story line. This is taken
from Harm's POV.
"I have made a big mistake." I mumble to myself as I step off the elevator. Mac had me so built up and ready to conquer the world last night, but today I just want to turn around and go back to Bealsville where I feel safe and as Mac pointed out where I can hide. Okay, you can do this Rabb just a few more steps.
"Captain! It's so good to see you. The Admiral is expecting you!" Tiner greets me with an enthusiasm that screams cover up. I've seen it too many times. Don't let him know that you really feel sorry for him and maybe a little disgust. I realize I'm being overly sensitive so I respond in like stereotypical fashion.
"It's great to be back Tiner. I'll go on in to see the Admiral." My smile is so tight on my face that I feel the muscles in my cheek twitch from the strain. I'm concentrating so hard on keeping my gate smooth and relaxed that I must look ready to blow a gasket.
The meeting with the Admiral almost makes me believe that I could just pick up where I left until he gives me that damn medal. I have always held the men and women who receive the Purple Heart in highest regard because of their ultimate sacrifice... even more so now that I've joined their esteemed ranks. Only its recipients understand how great and painful the cost. I know in my mind that I would gladly lay my life down for my country, but my wounded soul would trade the honor of the ribbon and medal for flesh and bone.
I see the Admiral's look. The one that is repeated more often than I can bare...pity. Suck it up Rabb, show him your metal. Show him that he doesn't need to feel sorry for you. You lost a leg not your ability to function as a lawyer and a human being.
At least the staff meeting isn't as painful as the last time I came back from changing my designator. I felt like a fish out of water that day, awkward and tongue-tied. Every one was laughing and sharing comments easily with one another as close comrades should, but I wasn't included. I was an outsider. I berated myself for having expected so much when I came back that first time. I guess that's why it seems so much better this time. I didn't expect anything so that anything I get will be a pleasant surprise...if I returned with two legs would they have been so generous? My self-doubt is making its wicked self known.
Bud and Harriet are like family, and I know they hurt for me, but I still sense that they don't know how to act around me. They are the only people who can plaster on fake smiles that rival mine. New rule, no more fake smiles...they are a major waste of effort. I shouldn't be thinking that, hell it's good to see them again. I smile at Bud and give Harriet a hug.
Sturgis Turner! I can't believe Mac didn't tell me that my old bubblehead friend was here, and he hasn't changed...still using his metaphors. He is giving me the message that he's not going to let me wallow in any form of self pity. Message received loud and clear, Commander.
The strangest thing about the whole staff meeting is that Lt. Singer probably in her own self centered unintentional way makes me feel the best of all. She isn't handling me with kid gloves. Instead, she uses her typical underhanded tactics to try to suck up while knocking me down at the same time. She is making is apparent that she still feels threatened by me...thanks Loren I need that.
I walk into the bullpen and scan the place. It hasn't changed, but the people have. What are they thinking about me? I'm a washed up crippled aviator that the Navy doesn't have the heart to ditch and is letting me keep my commission out of pity. Dammit! You've got to stop using that foul four letter word. It doesn't matter. What matters is what I think about myself, and I can do this...I hope.
I see her turn away and enter her office. I don't want to be alone. Mac, I want to go home with you. I don't want to keep you at arm's length for the sake of regulations. I need you Mac because I don't think I can do this by myself. It's been a long time since that day in the Rose Garden, and we've been through too much to turn back and start over. I don't want you calling me Sir or Captain, and I don't want to call you Mac, Colonel, jarhead or anything else. I want to call you Sarah.
What if I fall and can't get up? Why is that statement so not funny?
*********
Weeks are turning into months and I know I have found my place again. As I sit at the bottom of the stairwell and contemplate the past months, I decide that I actually have a flare for the administrative end of things around here and find myself enjoying mentoring the new staff. I didn't fall in the literal sense or the physical sense either, and I feel my confidence returning more each day. The ache of what I've lost however, doesn't go away and at times threatens to overwhelm me.
This particular morning starts out with a tumble out of bed when I get up so preoccupied with what I have to do this morning that I forget that I can't just jump up without putting on my prosthesis. I actually laugh at my clumsiness because I realize that for the first time I have forgotten my limitation. Now I just have to explain the black eye from hitting my bedside table. Perhaps I could say I was in a bar fight, and everyone should see the other guy. Maybe I should tell them I tripped over a knee knocker when I went to Norfolk yesterday. I chuckle aloud.
"Captain? Care to share what is so funny?" Admiral Chegwidden eases down next to me on the bottom few steps. "I could sure use something to laugh about since getting an earfull of Admiral Morris's tirade about a certain JAG officer who failed to show up for court this morning." His voice lacks humor, but is not as angry as I expect; after all, I am nearly an hour overdue for court.
"I was just thinking about knee knockers, Sir." My elbows are propped on my thighs with my briefcase sitting between my feet.
"Knee knockers?"
"I was just remembering my first six month deployment on a carrier. I tripped over those damn knee knockers so many times that my knees and shins were black and blue that first week. By the end of the deployment, I was navigating around the ship like a track star running hurdles." I smile as I reminisce about those early days of my Naval career. The days before I crashed killing my RIO and before I was shot and lost my leg.
"And once I was back on land, I found myself looking like a fool because every time I went through a threshold I unconsciously stepped over an invisible knee knocker." AJ laughed.
"Exactly, it took weeks to get it out of your head that you could walk through a doorway without stepping over those damn things, but when you went back on board it was like you never left. I never tripped again." I sigh. He doesn't say anything but allows me time to think before speaking.
"I thought I had gotten past all those barriers. I thought I could navigate without tripping and that all the barriers were just the ones in my head, but I was wrong...the knee knockers are still here."
"Harm, does this have something to do with why you are sitting at the bottom of the stairwell and not in court?"
"Yes Sir." I sigh again and smile a little sheepishly. "The elevators are out of order today."
He frowns. "I thought you were climbing steps without difficulty?"
"My residual limb has shrunk so much that I am waiting for a new one. My stability is limited, and I'm more prone to falls for the time being." I explain as he draws a deep breath understanding my dilemma.
"You should have called, and Tiner could have assisted you. Hell, I could have had Admiral Morris convene court in one of the first floor conference rooms. Accommodations could have been made Harm."
I smile and shake my head, "I was really frustrated when I found out that I couldn't get to the courtroom this morning because it reminded me that I have limits." I pause and rub my affected leg unconsciously. "Knee knockers have a purpose. The hatch can be closed securely to prevent flooding into other passageways and compartments. Without them a ship could sink." I pause again before continuing knowing he already knew that, "The Navy has been more than accommodating, but I can't expect her to change because I have a special need. Her rules and regulations exist for a reason with the ultimate goal to promote the protection of our country. I should be able to function within the existing setting. Removing a knee knocker or any other barrier for me could jeopardize the good order of the Navy." I try to explain.
"Harm, moving court down to the ground floor would not result in loss of life." He grins in his fatherly like manner.
"I don't want the Navy to have to make accommodations for me! I don't expect special treatment. The civilian world is a lot more handicap friendly and for good reason, but the Navy shouldn't have to be. She needs all her sailors in top form to carry out whatever needs to be done to promote the safety of our country." My voice is louder than it should be, and I soften it as I look into my CO's concerned eyes.
"So you're leaving?" His voice sounds a little disappointed. I know he wants me to stay for many reasons, and I appreciate his leadership more than he could ever know.
"Yes, I've been offered a position with a firm in Philadelphia. I can go home to Bealsville and commute."
"So you're going to be a Philadelphia lawyer?" He smirks.
"Since I can't fly Tomcats and navigate knee knockers, I might as well go for the money. Besides they have this Leer jet that is at my disposal, and I can still fly that!" I grin. "Plus, I'll be assigned a great deal of work in DC, so I'll be keeping my apartment."
"Sounds like a deal you can't pass up." He shakes his head. "We'll miss you."
"There is one other knee knocker that I've been tripping over for the past seven years that I need to talk about," I add cryptically as he looks confused.
"The regulation about fraternization," I add, and he chuckles.
"This wouldn't have to do with a certain Lt. Colonel?" He suggests.
I grow serious and make eye contact with him. "She has no immediate family that is available, and you are the closest person to a father figure that she has."
He looks like he is restraining from smiling.
"Sir, you made a statement to me once that had more impact than you realized. Well actually, you've made many statements, but...I'm babbling." I chuckle nervously.
"Yes you are Captain, so spit it out."
"You said that you didn't think friends called each other Sir. You have always been more than a friend to me, and I will always call you Sir out of respect for your rank and for you as a person but..." I pause as he waits patiently.
"The first day back at JAG, I remember thinking I didn't believe I could do this, but I've found out I could." I am getting off track again and smile. "I also realized then that I didn't want to call Mac Mac or Colonel, but I want to call her Sarah. I still feel that way. I think I always have." I look helplessly to see if he understands my jumbled thought processes.
He raises his eyebrows and responds, "You are asking my permission to ask Mac to marry you."
"Yes Sir. I'm not expecting her to give up her career, she's too good of a JAG to leave. I just want...I just need her...what I'm trying to say is that she makes me feel whole." I suddenly realize that I understand the ache of my loss had nothing to do with my limb, but my heart. These past months with her at arm's length due to regulations created a pain that has been slowly growing in intensity.
He smiles as he looks not at me but at the shadow of someone standing before us. "I have no problems with your request Captain, but I think you need to direct your question to her," he nods, and I see Mac walking out of the shadows with tears trickling down her face.
The Admiral makes a strategic retreat, and I push myself up to meet her as she approaches. "I guess you heard." I suddenly feel insecure.
She smiles and reaches up to touch my face. "I want to hear it again."
My hand wipes away her tears, and I pull her into my arms relieved that she is not running away from this awkward former Naval aviator turned lawyer. "Sarah, I can live with one leg, but I can't live without you in my life. I need you to feel whole. I love you, and I want to call you my Sarah, my lover and my wife."
Now tears are falling down my face as she starts to kiss them away until her lips reach mine and our souls connect in that one passionate moment never to be separated again.
The End
"When you walk through a storm
Hold your head up high
And don't be afraid of the dark.
At the end of the storm is a golden sky
And the sweet silver song of a lark
Walk on through the wind
Walk on through the rain
Tho' your dreams be tossed and blown
Walk on, walk on with hope in your heart
And you'll never walk alone,
And you'll never walk alone."
Rodgers and Hammerstein
