"Throw Me A Line" pt. 1

   The day from hell would be putting it mildly, it was actually the week from hell. It felt as though every transgression he had ever committed was being tallied up and being sent right back at him. He had a odd numbness to accompany the headache that he had woken up with and the day just got better from there, or was it worse? God I'm confused.

   'Am I God's favorite play-thing? Does he just sit up there and laugh at me and my pathetic attempts to have a happy, normal, decent life? I just want what everyone else wants-the all-American dream: wife, kids, the minivan, white picket fences, and a dog named Sport. What did I ever do?'

   When he arrived at JAG that morning, he had been informed that he was going to Diego Garcia that morning and then they were going to be investigating reports of MIA's. The SecNav had decided that Harm and his partner would be the best for the job, to hell with the emotional repercussions. And Harm wasn't one to turn down an assignment-no matter the personal consequences.

   He was bought out of his self-loathing by the voice that haunted his dreams and nightmares, his undoing. "Harm? Are you okay, you look a little pale? If you're getting sick, the Admiral will give this one to me and Bud. You don't have to go through this Harm."

  She had been worried about him for awhile now, he just hadn't seemed himself.  When her turned to face her, what she saw tore at her soul. The pain and misery was clearly evident in his bloodshot eyes. "Harm sit down." She gently guided him to a chair in his office. Her maternal instincts were definitely in overdrive. "Harm, when was the last to you had any food or sleep?"

   "I wasn't hungry this morning and I couldn't get comfortable last night. I'm fine, just a little upset, but it's nothing I can't handle...like I always do."

   She recognized that he was shutting down. "Harm... don't push me away. Let me help you, I care about you too much to let you go through this alone. So please, talk to me..."

   "I can't right now..." he quickly thought of a diversionary tactic. "We need to get going. We have to be at Andrews by 1700 and I'm sure you want to say goodbye to David."

   She realized that he was being evasive so she decided to let it go for now. "Okay...you're right. But Harm, please don't ever forget that you can come to me. David doesn't monopolize all my time....and I will always make time for my best friend."

   She stayed a few moments longer and then left. Only when he was gone, did he allow a few tears to escape his eyes. 'Oh...what I wouldn't give to be more than your best friend. I don' t think I can do this.'

End part 1....

Diego Garcia

0345 Hours

Harm's VOQ Room

 

   'Trees. Thick bushes. He kept on running but he couldn't escpape the trees. They were terrifying and he was sure someone was chasing him. Finally he reached a stream and he stopped.

 

   "Help me!"

 

   Harm looked around frantically. "Who's there? What do you want?"

 

   Finally, the man stepped forward and Harm came face to face with the man that haunted his dreams. He whispered quietly, "Dad?"

 

   "You failed me Harm. You didn't rescue me!"

 

   With tears in his eyes, Harm pleaded with his hero, "I was too young Dad. There wasn't anything I could do, I tried....GOD I tried."

 

   "You failed everyone Harm- your mom, Diane, Kevin, Luke, the Admiral laughs at you, no one respects you, and most of all.... you failed Mac. Look what happened to her because of you. She would be happy if it wasn't for you. How many women have suffered because you failed them-Diane, Annie, Meg, Jordan, Mac....do I need to go on?"

 

   Tear were falling unabatedly, "No.......NOOOO!"

 

   "Stay away from people Harm, you're nothing but poison to them."

 

   He went to flee, but people of the past haunted him. They circled him and taunted him unmercifully.'

 

   Harm awoke with a start, tears still running down his cheeks. He shivered in fear and in cold. He went to the bathroom and washed the sweat that had collected along his fevered brow. He couldn't go back to sleep, he didn't want to have to face the same dream that he had had the last two and a half weeks, so he just layed in bed till the sun came up.

 

En Route to Tay Ninh Province

1045 Hours

 

   She had watched him the whole flight and she was really becoming worried. His face was drawn and pale, tiny lines of worry and pain were strewn with beads of sweat. It looked as though breathing was painful. Finally, she decided that she had to do something. It had gone on too long already.

 

   "Harm, tell me what's wrong. And don't lie to me, I can tell when you do."

 

   He looked up with his bloodshot eyes, and whispered in a raspy breath, "Mac I'm scared. I don't know what's wrong with me."

 

   She missed the underlying meaning of his words since she didn't know of his dream, and automatically assumed that he was talking about his illness. She unbuckled her seat and crossed the aisle quickly and placed her cool hand on his fevered forehead. "HARM....we need to get you to the hospital. I'll go and tell the pilot that we need to turn back."

 

   He nodded slowly, not being able to get words past the pain in his chest and leaned back in the chair. He closed his eyes and the next sound he heard startled him to the core.

 

   "MAYDAY! MAYDAY!"

 

End part 2.....feedback!!!!!!

"Throw Me A Line" pt. 3  

 

   The words 'mayday, mayday,' were enough to seriously frighten the stoic Marine. At the pilot's insistance, Mac quickly went back to her seat, making sure that Harm was strapped in properly. He was somewhat coherent and he looked at her in fear.

 

   "What's going on Mac?"

 

   "The fuel light came on the pilot is trying to find a place to land, but it's all jungle down there...." she looked at him intently and could clearly see his apprehension and fear of these jungles. They had already cost him his father and he had every right to fear this sticky, humid Hell. "Don't worry, everything will be okay. I promise."

 

   Any response was cut-off as the plane suddenly lost altitude. The last thing either of them remembered was the other screaming each other's names and then a loud scraping noise.

 

1153 Hours

Unknown Location

 

   Consciousness slowly returned. As Mac looked around her to regain, reality came flooding back harshly- they had crashed into the jungles of Vietnam. 'Poor Harm...he must be  terrified...HARM!'

 

   She quickly looked around the wreckage of twisted metal that had once been the main cabin of their plane. Her stomach twisted in fear and unease as she took in the destruction before her eyes. The whole right side of the plane had been ripped open and Harm's section of seats had been torn from their moorings. She looked quickly and desperately around for any sign of him, and what she saw tore at her soul.

 

   He was still strapped into his seat, but he didn't resemble the bright and vibrant person she knew. His skin was an unnatural pale color and blood flowed freely from a gash that disected his brow. A large piece of metal had landed on him and was successful in pinning him down to the chair. Nothing about his appearance suggested that he was even alive.

 

   With a shaking hand, she reached out to check his pulse and tears nearly fell when she found a weaker, but steady one. Her jubilation was short lived and she gasped in shock when she felt fevered skin. 'Hurt and sick....go ahead and lay some more on us God, I don't think we've had enough yet.'

 

   She worked quickly and difficultly to free him. Finally, after twenty minutes of struggling, she managed to get the metal off of him. With that done, she unbuckled his seat and gently laid him to the floor before placing a feather-light kiss on his sweaty forehead and then going to check on the pilot. One look and she knew it was hopeless. 'He was somebody brother or son or husband.' When she returned, Harm was beginning to stir.

  

   She leaned down and stroked his cheek in a comforting manner, "Harm? Can you open your eyes and talk to me?"

 

   He groaned and opened his eyes slowly. He drew in a ragged breath and then rasped out, "Are you okay?"

 

   She smiled sweetly. Of course he would be in pain and think of her first. "Just a little headache. How do you feel?"

 

   "It hurts to breath and my head and stomach hurts," he groaned.

 

   "Hurts like upset stomach or hurts like got punched?"

 

   "Like I got punched. What happened?"

 

   "It might have been your seat belt. You were thrown around pretty good."

 

   "Mac.....are we stranded?"

 

   "Yes...but the pilot sent out a mayday."

 

   "I don't think I can do this Mac. I don't think I can survive this place."

 

   "Harm.. you'll be fine. They'll find us and everything will be okay."

 

   "I'm not talking about that Mac...I don't think I can stand this jungle again."

 

   Her shocked response what cut short by Vietnamese shouting. She gave him a 'I told you so look' and went to greet their rescuers. Her relief was cut short by the gun that was aimed at her and then at Harm. They weren't there to rescue them, that much was obvious.

End part 3

Mac quickly assessed the situation with growing dread. The commandos were shouting at her in a language she couldn't understand so she didn't know what they wanted. But to her own surprise, Harm responded back in Vietnamese.

 

   [We're Americans and our plane crashed. We need help.]

 

   Mac watched in horror as one of the men, most likely the leader, slammed his booted foot into Harm's stomach. His cry of pain tore at her soul. She moved as quickly as possible to his side and stroked his sweaty hair.

 

   "Are you okay Harm?" His eyes were squeezed shut against the burning agony in his stomach and lower chest. Tears of pain were falling silently down his cheeks. "Harm?"

 

   The Vietnamese man stepped up and spoke in halting English. "Get up! Move now!"

 

   She did so, helping Harm to his feet and trying to keep an eye on the men at the same time. "Do you think you can walk Flyboy?"

 

   He did what she interpreted as a nod and they followed the men out of the plane. They had been walking for an hour, Harm leaning on her more and more heavilly, when finally he collapsed to the ground.

 

   She knelt down beside him and stifled a gasp when she realized that his fever had steadily risen. I was then that she also realized that he probably had internal injuries, because his hand was pressed tightly against his stomach. She gently moved his hand aside and lifted up his blood and dirt stained shirt. Sure enough, there was an ugly purple bruise across his abdomen. She carefully prodded his stomach which brought about a sharp gasp of pain.

 

   "I think it would hurt alot less if you didn't do that Mac," he groaned hoarsely.

 

   "I know, I know....let me see if these guys have any water." she said sympathetically.

 

   He sat up sharply, ignoring that pain that it produced. "No don't! They won't take too kindly to you talking to them."

 

   At that exact moment, one of the men came to prod them to continue walking. Mac stood up and faced the man. "We can't," she pointed to Harm, "he's hurt. We need to get him some help."

 

   All her efforts got her was a backhand across the face and the broken words, "Keep going."

 

   She turned back to Harm and watched his eyes grow dark with hatred when he spotted the angry, red welt on her cheek. "That son of a..."

 

   "Harm don't! It doesn't even hurt that much."

 

   She helped to his feet once again and they continued their journey through the jungle. The place that they arrived at three hours later was one that had tormented Harm's thoughts since he was six years old. The situation at hand at the fact that he was at the source of his life-long nightmare was too much for Harm to handle and he collapsed to the ground as darkness overcame him.

 

   "HARM!"

 

End Pt. 4

Mac moved quickly to Harm's side, trying to be a buffer between him and the guards that were moving toward them. His skin was so hot to the touch that a bolt of fear went through Mac. She was terrified because she knew that as sick as he was, he wouldn't be able to escape this place.

 

   The guard made a move toward Harm and Mac stood her ground, her glare defying the man. He stared for a while and then motioned with his rifle to move with him. She staggered to get Harm to his feet, but couldn't lift his dead weight. Another guard took this oppurtunity and roughly grabbed her by the arm while two more moved on either side of Harm.

 

   They quickly lead them to a cell and none-too-gently shoved her in there and then, to her muted horror, tossed Harm in there like nothing more than the boneless weight that he was to them. As they closed the door, she screamed and begged for a doctor, water, a blanket, anything that she could use to help him.

 

   She looked around their small dirt cell and took in what was there. There was a dust cover mat that resembled something that she figured was supposed to be a mat. She found a dirty, hole-filled blanket. Deciding that it would be best as a blanket, she quickly wrapped Harm up in it. She then tore two long strips from her ruined uniform and fashioned them into bandages for Harm's head.

 

   As she finished this, he moaned and began to open his eyes. "Mac?" he whispered.

 

   She moved closely to him, "It's okay Harm, I'm right here."

 

   He looked at her with fear, anger, and a deep sadness that she had never seen before. "This is the place Mac. The place where it all happened, the place in my dream."

 

   She stroked his cheek gently, frowning in concern because his temperature seemed to still be rising. "What place Harm? What dream are you talking about?"

 

   "This is the camp that my father came too before they took him to Russia. This is the place that haunts my dreams when my dad comes to talk to me. It's where it all began."

  

   The utter despair that was in his eyes tore at her soul and threatened to consume her. The only thing that kept her strong was that the fact that Harm needed her help right now. She moved to where his head was in her lap and she continued her minstrations, humming lightly to try and ease some of his pain.

 

   Once he finally drifted into a troubled sleep, she whispered quietly, "It'll all be okay. I promise," and then dropped a feather-light kiss on his forehead.

 

   About an hour passed and then suddenly the door burst open, startling Mac and causing Harm to stir. The man that stood before them looked down at the two and smiled evily. "Welcome." To guards came in behind him and ripped Harm out of Mac's grasp, causing him to cry from the intense pain in his abdomen.

 

   "WAIT! HE'S HURT!!!!"

 

   The man looked at her with a smirk, "Don't worry Miss, we'll take care of him." And with that the two guards moved away with him.

 

   "NO...." she didn't have time to finish her plea as the butt-end of a rifle connected with her head and she was dragged out of the room.

 

End part 5.....

As Mac slowly came to, she tried to remember a time that her head ever hurt this bad. She looked around and realized it was night time, because she could hardly see her hand in front of her face. She layed back and relaxed a bit until she remembered- "HARM!"

   She got a low moan for a response and moved to the origin. She quickly knelt by his side and tried to coax him into a more wakeful state. Ever so gently, she stroked his cheek, and her hand came back wet and sticky. She lifted her fingers to her nose and her panic rose when she realized it wasn't just sweat- it was blood too.

   "Harm? Can you here me? I need for you to wake up now."

   "Mac," he whispered.

   "Yeah, it's me. How do you feel?"

   "I think I'm gonna be sick."

   She helped him into a sitting position before he was wracked with painful dry heaves. Once she was done, she pulled him back into her embrace and let him sob--sob for his physical pain and him emotional pain. After about an hour, he drifted into restless sleep.

   Mac continued to stroke his warm forehead, frowning at the heat it was radiating. The moon had come out and cast a pale light into their cell. She studied him with growing dread. His breathing sounded better, but she knew his ribs and stomach must hurt intensely. And she was almost certain he had a concussion. All of this was compounded onto whatever was already ailing him.

   It hurt her to see him in this much pain. The few times he had stirred, he moaned and mumbled about his father. She wanted to cry as she thought about the torture this place must be to him. She wondered what these men had done to him.

   As the morning sun came up, gunfire erupted outside their cell. Mac gently lifted Harm's sleeping form from her and moved to the window to see what was going on. She couldn't see anything, but she could hear angry shouts coming from the Vietnamese.

   Abbruptly, the door to the room was kicked in and the man from the day before entered. He looked at Mac with a twisted smile that she couldn't quite interpret. As he moved forward, she put herself between him and Harm and tensed for a fight. But to her surprise, he fell to the floor in front of her. When she looked up she saw the face of their savior.

   "You guys are hard people to find Mac."

   She smiled grimly. "Shut up and help me with Harm. He's really sick."

   As they picked up to take him to the chopper, she looked at their rescuer with gratefulness. "Thanks Clay."