Rachel distractedly made her way into her wardroom. Having breakfast with Mike and some of the other officers after returning from the Vyerni had taken her mind off of the entire ordeal. But now she was all alone with her thoughts. She still couldn't believe that she had made it off of that Russian ship. Alive. Unharmed. And physically without a scratch. Was it worth it? Slattery considered it an, "MC" or "mission complete," and Rachel agreed on principle. But...
Cossetti was dead. He was a brilliant PO3, even if he had almost abandoned the ship. But he had changed and had been more loyal than ever, trying to make up for his transgressions. Everybody had welcomed him back with open arms but he still thought he had something to prove. Luckily he died while knowing that he was a hero, and that everyone approved of him.
Positive outcome = Russians were destroyed. Hopefully. And of course the captain and Tex were out of captivity. That's cause for celebration. But as she sat in her wardroom, her mind wouldn't - couldn't - stop thinking. Every sound made her start. Every smell was intensified. And her breathing would not slow down. The adrenaline crash was going to happen soon, and it wasn't going to be pretty. The ecstasy had worn off and the reality had set in. I just shot a man. No, I murdered a man. Rachel rubbed her hands together rocking back and forth. What if he had a family still alive? A wife? Kids? The last thought turned her stomach. Rachel quickly opened her hatch and sprinted down the passageway toward the head, barely missing a sailor as she flew by. Making it just in time she crumpled to her knees in front of the head and threw-up her breakfast, wishing she hadn't eaten the eggs that Bacon had prepared.
Rachel sat there for what felt like hours, tears rolling down her face, thinking about what she had done. I. Killed. A. Man. Yes, it was in order to save lives... but how do I justify that my life is more important than his?
Her hands still shook and the rest of her soon followed. I need air. Light. A breeze in my face. With a ragged inhale, she stood slowly and flushed down her breakfast. The doctor walked over to the sink, turned on the faucet, and splashed some water on her face, hoping that it would liven up her complexion. Yeah, right. Nothing's going to liven me up for a while. I killed a man. She shook her head to chase her thoughts away and slowly trudged aft with her head down, not daring to look at anyone along the way.
Lost in her thoughts, Rachel made the trek to the stern, barely giving the lab a second glance as she walked through the door to the helo deck. Closing the hatch, she walked all the way across the landing pad to the stern, taking in the sun and the cool, crisp breeze. Lifting her head, Rachel surveyed the foamy water stirred up from the propellors and leaned on the metal wire railing.
What was I thinking volunteering for that mission? I'm not in the Navy. I'm a doctor for goodness sake! I save lives, not take them! Rachel took in another large lungful of air and closed her eyes, bowed her head, and exhaled slowly. I may need to talk to someone about this... not sure if they have a shrink on board. Maybe I could talk to Danny, or Burk, or… nah. I can handle-
"Doctor, what are you doing out here?" the captain questioned as he came to lean down on the wire next to her. Rachel's posture stiffened immediately as she lifted her head, waiting for a reprimand about his rescue.
"I could ask you the same thing: you were out in the water for many hours and then held prisoner for almost a day. Shouldn't you be in sickbay? And why are you out here?" Rachel asked. The concern in her voice startled her; she hardly knew Tom Chandler - it wasn't her job to be his keeper. Tom shifted his weight and gazed out onto the glassy surface of the ocean not touched by the ship.
"HM Rios said that I'm just a little dehydrated and my face is a little burned; I'm to drink a lot of fluids and then have him check me over in a few days."
"Good. Glad to hear it."
"And I overheard some sailors talking about how you were heading this way - wanted to just check-in."
Rachel ignored his 'check-in' comment. I'm sure he… well, I'm not sure why he needs to 'check-in' with me. Probably due to the way I passed that note, or that I even went over to the Vyerni.
"Before you reprimand Mike for sending me, it was my decision. I volunteered," Rachel said, her voice not wavering, "and I'd do it again, too," she added, her voice finally starting to quiver. Rachel took in some deep breaths and tried to not fall apart any further.
"Are you okay, doctor?" Tom stood and turned toward her with a concerned gaze, giving her his full attention.
Rachel ducked her head, still leaning against the rails, and tried to block the captain's view of her tears starting to fall. She tried to nonchalantly wipe them away with her sleeves, but when she looked at her shirt she saw little drops of blood. I can't lose it in front of this man. And if I stay here that is exactly what will happen; I've got to get back to my room. Fast.
Turning the opposite way, Rachel started to walk toward the hatch. "Yes, Captain, just a long day," Rachel called over her shoulder with a fake smile, not daring to look Tom in the eye. She had almost made it to the door to her lab when a wall of solid chest appeared between her and her goal.
Rachel's voice began to lose its confidence. "Excuse me, Captain," she said quietly, trying to sidestep him to no avail.
"Hold on, Doctor. What's the matter? Are you hurt?" Tom asked anxiously, imploring her to look at him. "You weren't shot or..." Tom let the question hang, knowing she would understand what he was trying to say.
"NO!" Rachel's eyes flew to meet his, anger rising. "I killed a man. No, I murdered him! In cold blood! I took that gun out of my kit, pointed it at him, and fired! My ears were ringing so bad it felt like my head was exploding. Then, since he wasn't dead, I had to point it at him again and pull the trigger! Only this time I shot him in the head... so his head was exploding... and there was brain matter splattered everywhere, even on my clothes! And I can't get the look on his face out of my head... surprise... utter despair... agony." Rachel's tirade ended and her shoulders slumped, tears now running freely down her face.
"I'm a doctor, Captain - how am I ever supposed to come to terms with my actions?" Rachel lamented. "I'm not any more important than him. How can I choose to play God and take somebody else's life? And I still feel like I'm back on that ship... every smell, every movement... I feel like Ruskov is going to walk through that door. I'm going crazy." Her breaths were coming short and fast - she was hyperventilating and about ready to faint if nothing was done.
Tom grabbed her shoulders and shook her slightly.
"Doctor. Doc-tor. Rachel," Tom called intensely. "Look at me."
Rachel looked up into the captain's face but continued to breathe erratically.
"Breathe," the captain instructed. Rachel nodded her head.
"In... 2... 3... 4... Out... 2... 3... 4... In... 2... 3... 4... Out... 2... 3... 4…," Tom gently rubbed small circles into her shoulders with his thumbs, trying to calm her. "Come on, Doctor, you don't want me carrying you through the ship to sickbay - scuttlebutt would have us fraternizing in your cabin," Tom grinned, trying to defuse the situation. Rachel shook her head and tried to laugh, but couldn't. She kept on inhaling and exhaling for four beats each, still not able to calm down.
Finally, Tom decided to try another tactic since he did not have a spare brown bag: he drew her into his chest and wrapped the rest of her into a big embrace. Rachel's head came to rest on his chest right above his beating heart, and she took comfort in the steadiness of it. "Breathe with me, doctor, come on. Breathe." Tom's voice rumbled in her ear as he exaggerated his air intake and release, trying to soothe the rattled woman in front of him.
Rachel sank into his embrace, welcoming the human contact; it had been months since she had had a hug. Slowly but surely her breathing started to normalize.
"Your name is Rachel Scott. You are safe onboard the James, one of the finest Naval destroyers in the world. There are 213 sailors on this ship who are doing everything in their power to keep you safe. The Russians will not take you again, not if we have anything to say about it. I promise you that."
Rachel nodded, breathing finally under control. In the rational part of her brain she knew what he was saying was true, but the irrational part... Not so much. I can't believe I've turned into a blubbering mess around him. Way to be professional, Scott! Rachel tried to extricate herself from his hold, cheeks aflame with red. Tom let her go, but didn't move out of her way.
"I'm not finished, doctor," Tom called softly. "I know that it's hard killing somebody… I've been there myself. Look at me," Tom quietly commanded. Rachel lifted her glassy eyes to his, "And yes, you will probably have nightmares about it. But please don't ever think that what you did wasn't the right thing. It was either you or him. We need you. The world needs you. Please do not chastise yourself for choosing your life over his. understood?"
Rachel nodded her head.
"If you ever need to talk about it, please do. You are always more than welcome to come talk to me, but if you don't feel comfortable at least talk to someone. You can't keep it bottled up inside; it will eat you alive. Trust me." Tom searched her eyes to make sure that Rachel understood what he was saying, and that she was in a better headspace.
"Thank you, Tom," Rachel whispered.
Tom nodded his head slightly and released her. She skirted around him and made her way to the hatch.
"Oh, and Doctor?" Tom turned his head over his shoulder. Rachel stopped and looked back.
"That was an amazing kiss, but next time, kiss Tex - he's single and crazy about you. He chewed my head off for 10 minutes straight about cheating on my wife," Tom grinned.
Rachel groaned and shook her head in exasperation as she made her way into the darkness of the bowels of the ship. Men. I kill someone and all they think about is kissing! She wandered back to her room no longer in a state of panic. True, she had still killed a man, but at least she knew that there were people to talk to. She didn't have to go it alone - all she had to remember was to breathe.
Okay, so this is my first published fanfic here on the site. If you liked it, awesome. If you didn't like it, awesome. Not looking for flames. Just wanted to share.