Even Hell
written by misanoe
Author's note: Parts of it were written before "A Tangled Webb" so this fic does not completely match up to the episode and veers off with the new season.
****
"Sarah? Sarah?"
Webb's voice was the first thing Mac's hazy mind registered. Slowly it coaxed her into reality, and she woke up to a pounding headache and back pains.
"Christ Sarah, wake up."
His voice was unusually edgy, the normal derisive tone characteristic of Webb completely gone. She began to register other voices yelling in Farsi, but they were far off in the background and all she could focus on was the sound of Webb's voice urgently bringing her back to reality.
"Sarah!"
She was abnormally lethargic, unable to form an immediate reply to Webb's pleas. Much of her strength was spent forcing her eyes open, squinted to focus on the face next to hers.
"Webb?" She groaned after finding her voice. "You look like hell."
Instead of the wry grin she expected at his response, his face remained completely serious as he peered down at her. His hair was awry, face blackened by grease and soot, emphasizing the streak of red that was dripping down the side of his forehead.
It was the brightness of his blood running from his fresh cut that snapped her into attention. They both heard the pounding footsteps coming closer and the gravity of the situation was immediately imposed upon her.
Digging her elbows in the sparse dirt, with a grunt she tried to prop herself up to make a mental assessment of the terrain. The voices of their fast approaching enemies made her instinctively reach out her hand for her weapon.
Her palms patted around her only to meet hard dirt. Where was her weapon? She had been in the car waiting for Gunny to reach them- Gunny, her head craned around as she looked for her friend only to find the burning wreckage that had once been a car.
She had been in that car- Webb must have pulled her out into safety. Webb, at the moment he was crouched next to her, his green eyes seemed to glow from the light of the fire as he looked past her to the heavily armed men carefully surrounding them in an impenetrable circle.
Unarmed, outnumbered, she reached the same conclusion Webb must have seen from the beginning- they were both royally screwed. He hadn't bothered to waste the effort in saving the weapons from the fire knowing struggle would prove futile. The only thing they could do was go quietly into custody and hope they would stay alive long enough to find a lax in security, enough to give them an opening to attempt escape.
"Get up." The leader of the ring around them moved forward, waving the barrel of his gun at their noses.
Webb eyed their captors warily and slowly pushed himself up. His back to Mac, he stood protectively in front of her, his palms raised out to show he was unarmed.
Mac also stood up, fighting a wave of dizziness that threatened to topple her over. Lurching forward, she caught herself on Webb's steady shoulder. The sudden movement made her nauseous and without thinking she lifted her hand to cover her mouth. The cheek her fingertips touched became coated in a sticky wetness that startled her- she was bleeding.
"Who are you working for? What are you doing here?" Saddiq stepped forward into the circle, two gun toting guards flanking his sides as he demanded an answer. Though his face was neutral, his dark eyes could barely contain the anger brewing in them from the unexpected attack on his people.
"Just taking a midnight stroll." Webb answered in a conversational manner, ignoring the harsh glares of the men around Saddiq.
"What kind of stroll involves attacking my hacienda and killing my men?" Saddiq growled, stepping closer to face Webb eye to eye.
Webb gave a nonchalant shrug. "I got bored."
Saddiq's eyes glinted dangerously and he tilted his head to one guard. Swiftly the man stepped forward and viciously kneed Webb in the gut. Hunching over in pain, Webb's hands clutched his abdomen and the only sound that could be heard was his gagging.
Mac winced at the painful blow administered to Webb and instinctively she reached for him, placing a hand on his shoulder and the other on his arm to help him keep upright. Her movements caught the eye of one man who began to make a move to grab her.
Eyes narrowing, Webb's head moved sharply to the man that started towards Mac. "Does your Allah tell you to assault pregnant women?" His voice was acidic, cold eyes challenging the man in front of her.
Mac saw the way the guard's eyes darkened as it viewed the infuriating man before him. She saw a bloodlust in him that made her muscles tense in preparation for an attack, pausing only when she felt the light touch of Webb's hand placed warningly on her wrist. He glanced back at her for only a brief second, but the look on his face was enough to still her into inaction. He didn't want her to interfere.
"A pregnant woman?" Saddiq asked in confusion. Stepping to the side to look behind Webb, he immediately recognized the obvious state Mac was in. "You bring a woman with child here?" Looking at Mac he addressed his next question to her. "Why did you attack my home?"
Webb's grip on Mac's wrist tightened. Taking a deep breath, Mac put her trust in Webb and looked squarely at Saddiq, refusing to speak. Before Saddiq could respond, Webb stepped between them, directing attention away from Mac to himself.
"Why would I tell a woman my business?" He asked snidely, his voice dripping with deliberate contempt.
Without giving her a second glance, Saddiq pointed a handgun to Webb's head.
"I could just put a bullet between your eyes."
"But you won't," was Webb's sardonic reply. "We both know you're not going to kill me until you get some kind of information; so put your gun away and get your man to take out his toys."
Saddiq's voice was deceptively pleasant, "My man is skilled in his craft. I'm sure his efforts will not be wasted on you."
"I can hardly wait," Webb drolled out, his face the picture of bored disinterest.
"And why should you?" He motioned to Webb. "Take him to the shed and put her in the room. If she tries to escape, shoot her."
***
The door creaked open and when they threw him in the sparsely decorated room, Mac's horror at Webb's physical state nearly paralyzed her. The slam of the door as the guards retreated spurred her into action and she flew to Webb, falling to her knees beside him.
"What did they do to you?" Her whisper was hoarse, filled with an anguish that threatened to devastate her with it's heart wrenching agony as she lifted Webb's limp head as gently as she could to rest in her lap. His face was mottled and bruised, dried blood forming into flaky black clots along his cuts.
Oh god- oh god, she didn't know what to do or how to help him. His breathing was labored, each gasp of air straining his lungs. Hesitant, she reached out her hand to trace the skin around one nasty bruise with feather light touches, a soft cry choking her mouth at the low guttural moan reverberating in Webb's throat from the simple contact. Snatching her hand back from his face as though it burned, another part of her soul shattered at the sound of his ragged voice.
"Don't stop."
His eyes were closed so he couldn't see her slight nod but he felt her fingers resuming their careful ministrations and seemed content to lie in her arms. Mac could barely move her fingertips an inch over his face before they hit another bruise or scrape marking his skin.
Four days. For four days, everyday they had dragged him away from her to bring him back hours later in a steadily worsening condition. Half dead, somehow each morning he still managed to direct all their attention towards himself and she was left alone relatively unharmed to hear his tortured screams drifting in through her barred window.
The past few days she had lived in constant fear for Webb's safety. He provoked them, teased them, hinted at having information then refusing to impart anything worth knowing in their torture sessions. And throughout it all, he continued to find innovative ways of averting their frustrations and anger far from her. But she knew he couldn't do it forever, and she was beginning to feel death would be a welcome alternative to the nauseating uncertainty she tasted every second of the day.
His screams, they became a bitter relief. Although a part of her died at each wail, they told her he was still alive, and that was almost enough to keep her from going insane. It was the silence that killed her. The moments of deep stillness that made her darkest fears surface and choke her with terror as she prayed for them to bring Webb back alive.
"Stop thinking." His hoarse command drew her back into reality, and she looked down at him to see light green eyes staring intently up at her, a startlingly clean contrast from his grimy skin.
"You don't have to keep me safe." The words burst out of her mouth before she could think, and the thoughts that had haunted her from the first moment Webb misdirected their blows were out in the open.
"If I didn't- return you- unharmed," he gave a painful gasp before continuing, "Rabb would have my ass." He voice was raw as he struggled for each word. "And- he might get- too comfortable there."
She knew he wanted her to smile and close the subject, but she couldn't. He was killing himself for her and the guilt she felt was devastating.
"Stop it Webb, just stop it." Her eyes were watering now and it took all her military training to choke back that sob overwhelming her throat. Cradling his battered head in her lap, she leaned down so close that the tips of her hair were brushing lightly across his blood stained cheeks. "Don't protect me anymore Clay." Tears were leaking out of the corners of her tightly closed eyes to trickle on his face. "If you keep this up, they'll kill you."
"We all die." He spoke plainly, as though he had already accepted an inevitable.
"Not today. Not like this," she shook her head in furious denial, her voice adamant. "Not for me."
Webb gave her a weak chuckle. "For a field agent, there are worse ways to go."
His small laugh turned into a cough, and his body began to convulse from the gagging. Helpless, all Mac could do was tighten her hold on his hand and try not to cry at the sight of fresh blood trailing down the corner of his mouth. After several minutes the heaving stopped, and Webb struggled to gather enough oxygen into his lungs.
"We do- what we have to," he gasped, still recovering from his fit.
Quietly, Mac bit her lip then whispered. "It's my turn to keep you safe."
Immediately he knew what she was implying and dark green eyes narrowed to look up at her in agitation. "No." He put all of his strength in the force of that word, leaving little room for argument.
Mac turned her head away from Webb's inquisitive stare. "You need me," she said softly.
Lifting up his hand slowly to her face to touch his fingertips lightly against her cheek and bring her gaze back to him, he gave her a tired grin. "I need you well."
The tenderness in his eyes took her breath away and filled her head with a lightheadedness that had nothing to do with the lack of nutrients her body had been denied for the past few days. Leaning down, impulsively she brushed her cracked lips against his, resting her face gently against the top of his head to sigh in his hair.
"I need you too."
***
"Where are you taking him?" Mac cried at the men dragging Webb away from her arms. "Let me go!" Slamming her foot down on the man holding her, she forced her elbow harshly into his ribs and ran towards the direction they had taken Webb.
Another man got in her way and she tackled him before he could get close enough to grab her, desperately struggling against the arms that grabbed her from behind and lifted her off the ground as her feet kicked furiously into the air.
"MAC!" Harm's voice bellowed in her ear but she couldn't think to stop fighting. The only thing she knew was the loss she felt when they had pried Webb out of her arms. "Mac-" Arms tightened around her to restrain her from hurting anyone else. "Stop struggling. They're taking Webb to safety."
Mac's ears perked at the sound of Webb's name and she stilled long recognize the man holding onto her.
"Harm?" Her voice was small and confused, incredulous at the presence of her partner.
Sensing her change of attitude, he released her so she could turn and face him. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Webb being carried carefully by several men into a dark car. Looking up at Harm, worry etched in his face, relief flooded her body- it was over. Numb, she let him lead her to another car, his arm wrapped reassuringly over her shoulder.
Later, safe in the car driving far away from a place that had been hell on earth for both Mac and Webb, her body and mind gave into exhaustion and she wordlessly cried herself to sleep in the anxious arms of Harmon Rabb Jr.
***
It had been four and a half months since she last saw him. Even though she had been deemed suitable for work within two weeks of her return to the states, she had stayed away from the JAG offices and her friends, spending most of her time alone in her apartment waiting next to the phone. Every time it rang, she prayed to hear that voice on the other end, bitterly disappointed and further depressed with each passing day.
During the day, when she wasn't home, she was visiting his house with the same ritual consistency of the sunrise and sunset. She looked for him everywhere, managing to harass anyone who may have had the slightest clue of his whereabouts. All she met were dead ends. No one could or would give her anything on Clayton Webb.
At night, with sleep came dreams, and dreams only brought the too real sounds of his tortured screams saturating the air around her as she stood helpless and safe, confined in a box to hear him suffer.
Sacrifices- all for her. She didn't feel human, worthless of the efforts Webb had endured to keep her safe.
And in her dreams, his screams would only be dwarfed by her own silence, a never ending wail of mind consuming sorrow and guilt.
After the first month, she was suffering from anxiety attacks and depression, insomnia creating dark under eye circles that clashed with her sun deprived, bloodless face. She was haunted with images, real and fake, she could not force out of her head, only temporarily subdue with mindless activities that kept her dumb.
While she avoided the people and places she had once known, each persisted in visiting, her doorbell becoming a constant high pitched buzzing until she tore the damn thing out.
She was a wreck. It had taken the intervention of Harm, Harriet, Bud and A.J. breaking into her apartment to get her to seek help. Two months later, she was pulling light shifts at JAG and acting as an hourly seat warmer for her weekly visits to a military psychologist.
Another month passed and she somehow managed to resume her full duties at work, taking bigger caseloads to keep herself busy. Her life was starting to take on a sense of normalcy- a semblance of what it had been before she walked into the admiral's office from what seemed like a lifetime ago.
Her life was becoming normal but she wasn't the same person she had once been. She went through her life feeling broken, unable to articulate the dead weight lodged in her chest to her closest friends. When she tried to speak to them, the words got caught in her throat and she couldn't make them understand she wasn't okay. She didn't think she would ever be okay again.
***
It was cold outside after she left the office. Listlessly she walked to her car, ignoring the people around her. Welcoming the clean air that flooded her lungs with it's refreshing coolness, she looked up vacantly at the night sky.
The hair on the back of her neck bristled and she felt the familiar feeling of someone watching her. Turning around, her eyebrows furrowed, she looked up to spot a familiar figure observing her from a safe distance. He was standing still, hands shoved in his over coat pockets, a scarf tucked in carefully next to his three piece suit.
She didn't think, just acted. Quickly running towards him she threw her arms around his neck and enveloped him a bone crushing hug. Her eyes closed tightly and she burrowed her face into his shoulder, breathing in the scent so uniquely Clay.
"Miss me?"
His voice seemed wry, surprised at her flamboyant greeting. He was waiting for her to let go and step back, but she didn't. Strong emotions choked her throat and made her incapable of any speech.
She felt one arm, then another, tentatively wrap around her waist and pull her in tighter. His face nuzzled her neck, and she heard his long sigh of release. Desperately clinging to each other, for the first time in months the dull ache in her chest faded away, leaving her with something akin to joy.
****
written by misanoe
Author's note: Parts of it were written before "A Tangled Webb" so this fic does not completely match up to the episode and veers off with the new season.
****
"Sarah? Sarah?"
Webb's voice was the first thing Mac's hazy mind registered. Slowly it coaxed her into reality, and she woke up to a pounding headache and back pains.
"Christ Sarah, wake up."
His voice was unusually edgy, the normal derisive tone characteristic of Webb completely gone. She began to register other voices yelling in Farsi, but they were far off in the background and all she could focus on was the sound of Webb's voice urgently bringing her back to reality.
"Sarah!"
She was abnormally lethargic, unable to form an immediate reply to Webb's pleas. Much of her strength was spent forcing her eyes open, squinted to focus on the face next to hers.
"Webb?" She groaned after finding her voice. "You look like hell."
Instead of the wry grin she expected at his response, his face remained completely serious as he peered down at her. His hair was awry, face blackened by grease and soot, emphasizing the streak of red that was dripping down the side of his forehead.
It was the brightness of his blood running from his fresh cut that snapped her into attention. They both heard the pounding footsteps coming closer and the gravity of the situation was immediately imposed upon her.
Digging her elbows in the sparse dirt, with a grunt she tried to prop herself up to make a mental assessment of the terrain. The voices of their fast approaching enemies made her instinctively reach out her hand for her weapon.
Her palms patted around her only to meet hard dirt. Where was her weapon? She had been in the car waiting for Gunny to reach them- Gunny, her head craned around as she looked for her friend only to find the burning wreckage that had once been a car.
She had been in that car- Webb must have pulled her out into safety. Webb, at the moment he was crouched next to her, his green eyes seemed to glow from the light of the fire as he looked past her to the heavily armed men carefully surrounding them in an impenetrable circle.
Unarmed, outnumbered, she reached the same conclusion Webb must have seen from the beginning- they were both royally screwed. He hadn't bothered to waste the effort in saving the weapons from the fire knowing struggle would prove futile. The only thing they could do was go quietly into custody and hope they would stay alive long enough to find a lax in security, enough to give them an opening to attempt escape.
"Get up." The leader of the ring around them moved forward, waving the barrel of his gun at their noses.
Webb eyed their captors warily and slowly pushed himself up. His back to Mac, he stood protectively in front of her, his palms raised out to show he was unarmed.
Mac also stood up, fighting a wave of dizziness that threatened to topple her over. Lurching forward, she caught herself on Webb's steady shoulder. The sudden movement made her nauseous and without thinking she lifted her hand to cover her mouth. The cheek her fingertips touched became coated in a sticky wetness that startled her- she was bleeding.
"Who are you working for? What are you doing here?" Saddiq stepped forward into the circle, two gun toting guards flanking his sides as he demanded an answer. Though his face was neutral, his dark eyes could barely contain the anger brewing in them from the unexpected attack on his people.
"Just taking a midnight stroll." Webb answered in a conversational manner, ignoring the harsh glares of the men around Saddiq.
"What kind of stroll involves attacking my hacienda and killing my men?" Saddiq growled, stepping closer to face Webb eye to eye.
Webb gave a nonchalant shrug. "I got bored."
Saddiq's eyes glinted dangerously and he tilted his head to one guard. Swiftly the man stepped forward and viciously kneed Webb in the gut. Hunching over in pain, Webb's hands clutched his abdomen and the only sound that could be heard was his gagging.
Mac winced at the painful blow administered to Webb and instinctively she reached for him, placing a hand on his shoulder and the other on his arm to help him keep upright. Her movements caught the eye of one man who began to make a move to grab her.
Eyes narrowing, Webb's head moved sharply to the man that started towards Mac. "Does your Allah tell you to assault pregnant women?" His voice was acidic, cold eyes challenging the man in front of her.
Mac saw the way the guard's eyes darkened as it viewed the infuriating man before him. She saw a bloodlust in him that made her muscles tense in preparation for an attack, pausing only when she felt the light touch of Webb's hand placed warningly on her wrist. He glanced back at her for only a brief second, but the look on his face was enough to still her into inaction. He didn't want her to interfere.
"A pregnant woman?" Saddiq asked in confusion. Stepping to the side to look behind Webb, he immediately recognized the obvious state Mac was in. "You bring a woman with child here?" Looking at Mac he addressed his next question to her. "Why did you attack my home?"
Webb's grip on Mac's wrist tightened. Taking a deep breath, Mac put her trust in Webb and looked squarely at Saddiq, refusing to speak. Before Saddiq could respond, Webb stepped between them, directing attention away from Mac to himself.
"Why would I tell a woman my business?" He asked snidely, his voice dripping with deliberate contempt.
Without giving her a second glance, Saddiq pointed a handgun to Webb's head.
"I could just put a bullet between your eyes."
"But you won't," was Webb's sardonic reply. "We both know you're not going to kill me until you get some kind of information; so put your gun away and get your man to take out his toys."
Saddiq's voice was deceptively pleasant, "My man is skilled in his craft. I'm sure his efforts will not be wasted on you."
"I can hardly wait," Webb drolled out, his face the picture of bored disinterest.
"And why should you?" He motioned to Webb. "Take him to the shed and put her in the room. If she tries to escape, shoot her."
***
The door creaked open and when they threw him in the sparsely decorated room, Mac's horror at Webb's physical state nearly paralyzed her. The slam of the door as the guards retreated spurred her into action and she flew to Webb, falling to her knees beside him.
"What did they do to you?" Her whisper was hoarse, filled with an anguish that threatened to devastate her with it's heart wrenching agony as she lifted Webb's limp head as gently as she could to rest in her lap. His face was mottled and bruised, dried blood forming into flaky black clots along his cuts.
Oh god- oh god, she didn't know what to do or how to help him. His breathing was labored, each gasp of air straining his lungs. Hesitant, she reached out her hand to trace the skin around one nasty bruise with feather light touches, a soft cry choking her mouth at the low guttural moan reverberating in Webb's throat from the simple contact. Snatching her hand back from his face as though it burned, another part of her soul shattered at the sound of his ragged voice.
"Don't stop."
His eyes were closed so he couldn't see her slight nod but he felt her fingers resuming their careful ministrations and seemed content to lie in her arms. Mac could barely move her fingertips an inch over his face before they hit another bruise or scrape marking his skin.
Four days. For four days, everyday they had dragged him away from her to bring him back hours later in a steadily worsening condition. Half dead, somehow each morning he still managed to direct all their attention towards himself and she was left alone relatively unharmed to hear his tortured screams drifting in through her barred window.
The past few days she had lived in constant fear for Webb's safety. He provoked them, teased them, hinted at having information then refusing to impart anything worth knowing in their torture sessions. And throughout it all, he continued to find innovative ways of averting their frustrations and anger far from her. But she knew he couldn't do it forever, and she was beginning to feel death would be a welcome alternative to the nauseating uncertainty she tasted every second of the day.
His screams, they became a bitter relief. Although a part of her died at each wail, they told her he was still alive, and that was almost enough to keep her from going insane. It was the silence that killed her. The moments of deep stillness that made her darkest fears surface and choke her with terror as she prayed for them to bring Webb back alive.
"Stop thinking." His hoarse command drew her back into reality, and she looked down at him to see light green eyes staring intently up at her, a startlingly clean contrast from his grimy skin.
"You don't have to keep me safe." The words burst out of her mouth before she could think, and the thoughts that had haunted her from the first moment Webb misdirected their blows were out in the open.
"If I didn't- return you- unharmed," he gave a painful gasp before continuing, "Rabb would have my ass." He voice was raw as he struggled for each word. "And- he might get- too comfortable there."
She knew he wanted her to smile and close the subject, but she couldn't. He was killing himself for her and the guilt she felt was devastating.
"Stop it Webb, just stop it." Her eyes were watering now and it took all her military training to choke back that sob overwhelming her throat. Cradling his battered head in her lap, she leaned down so close that the tips of her hair were brushing lightly across his blood stained cheeks. "Don't protect me anymore Clay." Tears were leaking out of the corners of her tightly closed eyes to trickle on his face. "If you keep this up, they'll kill you."
"We all die." He spoke plainly, as though he had already accepted an inevitable.
"Not today. Not like this," she shook her head in furious denial, her voice adamant. "Not for me."
Webb gave her a weak chuckle. "For a field agent, there are worse ways to go."
His small laugh turned into a cough, and his body began to convulse from the gagging. Helpless, all Mac could do was tighten her hold on his hand and try not to cry at the sight of fresh blood trailing down the corner of his mouth. After several minutes the heaving stopped, and Webb struggled to gather enough oxygen into his lungs.
"We do- what we have to," he gasped, still recovering from his fit.
Quietly, Mac bit her lip then whispered. "It's my turn to keep you safe."
Immediately he knew what she was implying and dark green eyes narrowed to look up at her in agitation. "No." He put all of his strength in the force of that word, leaving little room for argument.
Mac turned her head away from Webb's inquisitive stare. "You need me," she said softly.
Lifting up his hand slowly to her face to touch his fingertips lightly against her cheek and bring her gaze back to him, he gave her a tired grin. "I need you well."
The tenderness in his eyes took her breath away and filled her head with a lightheadedness that had nothing to do with the lack of nutrients her body had been denied for the past few days. Leaning down, impulsively she brushed her cracked lips against his, resting her face gently against the top of his head to sigh in his hair.
"I need you too."
***
"Where are you taking him?" Mac cried at the men dragging Webb away from her arms. "Let me go!" Slamming her foot down on the man holding her, she forced her elbow harshly into his ribs and ran towards the direction they had taken Webb.
Another man got in her way and she tackled him before he could get close enough to grab her, desperately struggling against the arms that grabbed her from behind and lifted her off the ground as her feet kicked furiously into the air.
"MAC!" Harm's voice bellowed in her ear but she couldn't think to stop fighting. The only thing she knew was the loss she felt when they had pried Webb out of her arms. "Mac-" Arms tightened around her to restrain her from hurting anyone else. "Stop struggling. They're taking Webb to safety."
Mac's ears perked at the sound of Webb's name and she stilled long recognize the man holding onto her.
"Harm?" Her voice was small and confused, incredulous at the presence of her partner.
Sensing her change of attitude, he released her so she could turn and face him. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Webb being carried carefully by several men into a dark car. Looking up at Harm, worry etched in his face, relief flooded her body- it was over. Numb, she let him lead her to another car, his arm wrapped reassuringly over her shoulder.
Later, safe in the car driving far away from a place that had been hell on earth for both Mac and Webb, her body and mind gave into exhaustion and she wordlessly cried herself to sleep in the anxious arms of Harmon Rabb Jr.
***
It had been four and a half months since she last saw him. Even though she had been deemed suitable for work within two weeks of her return to the states, she had stayed away from the JAG offices and her friends, spending most of her time alone in her apartment waiting next to the phone. Every time it rang, she prayed to hear that voice on the other end, bitterly disappointed and further depressed with each passing day.
During the day, when she wasn't home, she was visiting his house with the same ritual consistency of the sunrise and sunset. She looked for him everywhere, managing to harass anyone who may have had the slightest clue of his whereabouts. All she met were dead ends. No one could or would give her anything on Clayton Webb.
At night, with sleep came dreams, and dreams only brought the too real sounds of his tortured screams saturating the air around her as she stood helpless and safe, confined in a box to hear him suffer.
Sacrifices- all for her. She didn't feel human, worthless of the efforts Webb had endured to keep her safe.
And in her dreams, his screams would only be dwarfed by her own silence, a never ending wail of mind consuming sorrow and guilt.
After the first month, she was suffering from anxiety attacks and depression, insomnia creating dark under eye circles that clashed with her sun deprived, bloodless face. She was haunted with images, real and fake, she could not force out of her head, only temporarily subdue with mindless activities that kept her dumb.
While she avoided the people and places she had once known, each persisted in visiting, her doorbell becoming a constant high pitched buzzing until she tore the damn thing out.
She was a wreck. It had taken the intervention of Harm, Harriet, Bud and A.J. breaking into her apartment to get her to seek help. Two months later, she was pulling light shifts at JAG and acting as an hourly seat warmer for her weekly visits to a military psychologist.
Another month passed and she somehow managed to resume her full duties at work, taking bigger caseloads to keep herself busy. Her life was starting to take on a sense of normalcy- a semblance of what it had been before she walked into the admiral's office from what seemed like a lifetime ago.
Her life was becoming normal but she wasn't the same person she had once been. She went through her life feeling broken, unable to articulate the dead weight lodged in her chest to her closest friends. When she tried to speak to them, the words got caught in her throat and she couldn't make them understand she wasn't okay. She didn't think she would ever be okay again.
***
It was cold outside after she left the office. Listlessly she walked to her car, ignoring the people around her. Welcoming the clean air that flooded her lungs with it's refreshing coolness, she looked up vacantly at the night sky.
The hair on the back of her neck bristled and she felt the familiar feeling of someone watching her. Turning around, her eyebrows furrowed, she looked up to spot a familiar figure observing her from a safe distance. He was standing still, hands shoved in his over coat pockets, a scarf tucked in carefully next to his three piece suit.
She didn't think, just acted. Quickly running towards him she threw her arms around his neck and enveloped him a bone crushing hug. Her eyes closed tightly and she burrowed her face into his shoulder, breathing in the scent so uniquely Clay.
"Miss me?"
His voice seemed wry, surprised at her flamboyant greeting. He was waiting for her to let go and step back, but she didn't. Strong emotions choked her throat and made her incapable of any speech.
She felt one arm, then another, tentatively wrap around her waist and pull her in tighter. His face nuzzled her neck, and she heard his long sigh of release. Desperately clinging to each other, for the first time in months the dull ache in her chest faded away, leaving her with something akin to joy.
****