This is my response to the August HBX
fanfic challenge. The challenge scene, was very *challenging* for me
this month, as I had a lighthearted fic in mind, and I just can't fit
the words in. I'll save that one for another time. I have a lull at
work, and wrote this off the top of my head.
I don't own JAG,
but if I did I would have had at least one scene where we see Harm's
naked back, and Mac’s hands clawing it.
Honest Feedback
is always appreciated.
Unprepared
By TR
From the
moment we step off the bus they begin to prepare us for the reality
of pulling the trigger. Of watching the light die in the eyes of our
enemy. Of dying a little inside each time they drop and bleed at our
feet. They know we're not made for this. War, while a necessary evil,
was never our intended destiny, and yet we fight. We fight for
freedom, and control, and against the demons that haunt us with a
vicious and brutish force. We fight to stay alive.
I have
been prepared well. Always a quick study in the ways of survival, I
know exactly how to breath, how to swallow down the sickening bitter
taste of death, how to deal with the consequences of my actions if
and when the burden falls to me to eradicate an adversary.
I
know all of those things by heart. But I don't know how to do this.
Nothing I have ever learned in my lifetime of service, could have
possibly prepared me for this. They taught us how to handle taking a
life. They never taught us how to handle giving one. Breathing the
life back in to the one person we hold most dear. They don't tell us
that it literally turns our world upside down.
I'm still
sitting against the wall, panting with adrenaline, and panic, and
love. Clinging to her like she's the only thing that will keep me
from flying off the edge of the earth. I don't know how to let her
go, and suddenly I can't remember any of the convoluted reasons why I
have to. My heart is pounding. I can't seem to hold a thought. All I
know; all I feel, is her. No, they never taught me how to do this,
how to deal with the fear. I've never been so frightened in my life.
Having once held the lifeless body of her clone in my arms, the
relief I now feel is beyond words. I tighten my hold on her, as our
previous conversation runs through my mind.
'You know, I'm
starting to get the
feeling this is more than just a bump
in
the road. You honestly resent me.'
'And you have no faith in me.'
'How did we get to this place?'
My question echoes in my
head, and I still don't know the answer. All I know is that the ache
is gone, and I don't care how we got to this place. I don't care
because the hand that is now cradling my face, tells me more clearly
than words ever could, that we're over the bump in the road. Over the
bump, and full speed into uncharted territory.
"Harm?"
Her voice is a raspy whisper. I want to respond, but I can't seem to
regulate my breathing. With effort I loosen my hold on her, and she
turns, facing me. "Thank you," she says with more breath
than voice. The pure emotion on her face, is nearly my undoing.
Sometime, when I can sit in silence and sort this all out, I'll
answer all the questions in her eyes. Sometime, when I know the
answers. If I ever know the answers. Will it make her mine? Is she
mine now?
'This is not a marriage.'
Who am I kidding?
We've been married from day one. For the first time in my life, I'm
willing to consider the possibility. We are part of each other. I
don't want to wait until the stars align and finally tell us it's
time.
I still feel her hand on my face, telling me it's all
going to be alright, and I want to cry. I want to tell her everything
she is to me. She made it alright, and almost paid with her life. She
saved me too, more than once, and I want to carve my thanks in a band
of gold.
I reach out and brush her hair away from her face.
"Welcome..." I whisper back to her. I want to say more. So
much more. But I find that I don't have to. She's searched my soul.
Weighed me in the balance, and found that I want her.
I pull
her close, cradling her in my lap, as she settles her head on my
shoulder. I've never felt anything like this before, and I'm grateful
beyond belief that they never prepared me for this. As I know, deep
down, that somehow it would lessen the punch.
End of scene.
Good? Bad? Boils? Let me know.