****
"Rabb." Webb briefly looked up from his desk without surprise. "I was expecting you sooner."
"What are you talking about, Webb?" said Rabb, barging through the door without an invitation.
Webb shrugged, "I would have thought you'd eventually come by to kick my 'six' for putting MacKenzie through danger."
"I was tempted," Rabb retorted.
"I know." Webb paused, "Look, as much as I love our little talks, there's somewhere I need to be." Turning around, he walked to a file cabinet, briskly pulling out several files and inserting them into a leather case. He continued to busy his hands, shuffling important looking documents into small neat piles. "You're still here," he pointed out after he had nothing left to do.
Rabb huffed out a long suffering sigh, "Look, I don't know what you're doing that's so damn important but there are people out there that need you. Stop hiding Webb."
"I'm busy." It sounded weak when he said it aloud and inwardly he cringed at the look of disbelief on Rabb's face, wondering when he had allowed his feelings to become so transparent. "I can't."
"I've always pegged you as an ass Webb, when did you become a coward?" With that cutting remark so typically Rabb, he slashed through Webb's defenses by pointing out the painful truth.
"Did she tell you what happened out there?" Webb asked, the muscles in his shoulder stretched out tight as he waited for Rabb's answer.
Rabb hesitated for a moment, "I know what happened Webb."
"Are you sure you know everything?" Webb asked. He picked up the slight tension in Rabb's shoulders that showed his insecurity. So she hadn't told Rabb everything Webb noted with a grim satisfaction.
"I know what's important," said Rabb, riled at Webb's implication and tone.
"And what makes you so sure that she needs me?"
Harm was silent for only a moment before he countered, "She needs something."
"Well, why don't you go ride in to rescue her and stop wasting my time," Webb snapped. "You seem quite adept at playing the hero."
"Do you think I haven't done everything I could to help her? That coming to you was my first choice?" asked Rabb, his voice powered by his frustrations. "She doesn't need me." He paused, his voice tinged with regret and bitterness. "She doesn't want me."
"What makes you the expert on what she wants or needs?" Webb asked, his voice tight. "She waited for you for years. Where was your brilliant insight then?"
"I don't see how any of that is your business," said Rabb, equally irritated. "This isn't about me."
"Of course it's about you," Webb said. "If it involves Sarah, it involves you." Rabb froze and Webb instantly realized his slip. "That's why you're here, isn't it," he tried to misdirect.
"When did she become Sarah?" Rabb's voice was quiet.
Idiot, Webb cursed, way to distance your self from her. His voice was dry, "I worked with her. We played husband and wife. We almost died together. I think I get to call her by her first name."
Harm remained silent.
"What would I say to her?" Webb finally asked. "I'm sorry I almost got you killed. Maybe we can do lunch sometime." His eyes were bitter as he looked straight into Rabb's eyes. "Why are you pushing this? She would be dead-"
If it weren't for you- he didn't have to say the rest out loud. The words hung between them mocking him. In the end, that's what it really came down to. He hadn't been able to save her. His extensive training, his Harvard education, his CIA background, all of it hadn't been enough to save her. When push came to shove, for all his flaws, Rabb was the one who pulled through for Mac and Clayton Webb was useless.
"I know you did what you could," said Rabb. "But you shouldn't have put her in that kind of situation," he coudln't help but add.
"What kind of situation?" Webb bristled. "This may have slipped your notice but she's a marine. I told her the risks before she got involved and I trusted her to handle herself in potentially dangerous situations." He thought back to a small dark room as she cradled him in her arms. "And she did."
"I know," said Rabb. "I just don't want to loose her." He raked his finger through his hair in frustration. "She's hurting and there's nothing I can do but watch."
Webb sighed, "What makes you think I can help her if you couldn't."
"I don't know," Rabb honestly answered. "Call it instinct."
"Great," Webb muttered, rubbing an aching spot just above his right eye. "I hate your instincts."
"That's because they're always right," Rabb answered with a cocky smirk. He eyed Webb and sobered, "You both look like hell. Grow up Webb, stop fielding her calls." He walked towards the door, stopping before he stepped outside the room. "I do love her," he added.
"I never questioned that," Webb answered. He looked at Rabb, asking the one question he was never able to completely figure out. "Why do you always push her away?"
Rabb was silent. "That's between me and her."
"Whatever," Webb replied, highly annoyed he asked at all. "It doesn't matter to me what you two do. Get married, have twenty kids and a dog for all I care."
Rabb stared at him, his eyes widening as sudden realization knocked the air out of his lungs. His voice was low, "Go to her, Webb. She needs you." The faint smile on his face was infinitely sad. "There's nothing 'I' can do for her now."
After Rabb was gone, Webb slumped into his chair, his head resting against his hands. If you only knew Rabb, he mumbled into the silence. You'd know I couldn't help her either.
He had been reluctant to visit her, afraid of finding the shattered pieces of the female he inadvertently broke.
It had been bad. His colleagues that got him out of Sadik's hacienda had gotten him to emergency medical care in the nick of time. Literally. Had he been left alone any longer, it would be doubtful that he would still be here today.
He held no illusions. If Mac not been with him, Clayton Webb would not be hobbling about today. Yet he was called the hero. He was clapped on the shoulder and given silent adulations because he 'shielded' her body with his own. Webb never bothered to set them straight.
He would have liked to pretend that he protected Mac because he was a good man, a decent human, but he knew the truth. It was blaringly obvious, and he could not hide from it.
He was selfish. It was that plain and that simple.
The thought of watching her suffer, sitting on the sidelines and hearing them break her was not a scenario he could stomach. If they were going to die, he wanted to go first if only to insure that he never heard her screams.
So he had bought her brief safety the only way he could. All he had to do was keep them occupied. And for this he was commended. No one understood Webb had thought they were both as good as dead. That while he was dragged away each morning, when they brought him back there would be a person waiting for him. A warm body that would hold him, comfort and cry for him. Up to his death, he would have the consolation of companionship. That was a hell of a lot more then she would get after he was gone and it was her turn. He volunteered for death so he wouldn't be alone.
She was completely right. He was an ass.
There had been her hope of rescue. For a marine whose slogan was, "we don't leave our men behind," a team sent in for their safe recovery didn't seem too delusional. But he wasn't a marine. He was in the company. And if they would have anything at all to say about him after his capture, it would go along the line of "Clay- who?"
And after that public denial to their knowledge of his existence, they would look at his file as dutifully reported by the station chief Edward wondering, why the hell did Webb choose to go unmanned into a hostile situation with no plan, intel or backup. It was like he was asking to be caught. They wouldn't understand how a seasoned agent would put himself in that much risk and it was doubtful the single word "Mac" would be a sufficient explanation to any excluding those who personally knew her.
He didn't even fully understand it himself, but he was nominally sure it had to do with a particular pig headed marine that would run alone into a heavily armed camp filled with known terrorists, guns blazing to save one friend. Somehow he got caught in her ride. Of course he would never forget he picked the road. Who knows, maybe that was why he couldn't let her go alone to rescue Gunny.
But there was something else. It was her face. The mixture of hurt bewilderment and disbelief after he told her she was on her own. He'd seen looks of betrayal before, most of them directed at him, but none of them cut the way hers had. From that moment, he knew he was damned to follow her for as long as she let him. It was sheer pride that forced him to stand there alone as she stole his gun and walked to the truck as he made a pathetic stand of an empty threat he knew he couldn't see through, the whole time praying she wouldn't call his bluff.
He wondered if she would have gone for him. He wouldn't, and if Mac hadn't gone for Gunny, Webb certainly wouldn't have gone alone.
And then there was Edward. The two timing bastard who told Webb he was better off without Mac then hung him up to dry. As much as he relished the thought of pulling the trigger that would embed a bullet deep into Edward's brain, Webb had unfortunately been detained on the other side of the planet recovering from the multitude of injuries he sustained in the fastidious custody of Sadik and co.
By the time he was able to suck apple sauce through a straw, the situation with Edward had been resolved and another washed up agent was undoubtedly exploring the mind numbing effects of cheap cognac at that third world hell hole. Just another detail that had been passed along to him during his snail paced recovery.
Then he had been briefed on the nature of their recovery, heard about the way she 'fought like a wildcat' and 'gave them hell' until that 'nancy lawyer grabbed her by the arms and shook her like a doll.' He even saw the evil looking bruise she gave one of the reconnaissance members, right in the stomach. Hearing these accounts filled Webb's chest with a curious glow, something akin to pride. He shouldn't have expected less from her. She awed him she was so strong, his Sarah.
His.
He'd shared a lifetime with her in that barren room and like a memory, forever would a part of her belong to him that no one else could ever touch or understand.
****
Agony. She had never felt so much pain in her life. A small cry tore in her throat as another flash of pain attacked her nerves and she could hardly remember her name. She was blind to everything but the searing pain.
****
He could still hear the screams when he dreamt at night. The howls were primal and animalistic, like the high pitched wailing of a savage animal tortured to death. Webb would wake up in a cold sweat trying to remember if the screams belong to her or him.
'She needs you.'
Webb wanted to laugh at Rabb for his naivety. If Mac was broken, there was no one to blame but Webb. He should have stopped her. He should have protected her. He should have known she would sacrifice herself the moment he was too weak to stop her.
Webb wanted to laugh. He wanted to laugh until he cried.
He went to her instead.
Talk about extreme torture messing with a person's head. Not that Webb was surprised or complaining. She felt too good and he felt too old to ever be surprised by anything again. Even this, Sarah squeezing the life out of him in a bear hug.
"Miss me?" He hadn't seen her in months and that was the best his mind could come up with. She didn't answer and he didn't care. He was too occupied with pulling her in closer to think of anything clever to say.
Webb tried not to think of the last time he held her like this. The circumstances that turned a powerful marine into this fragile looking creature he was almost afraid of crushing in his embrace. Almost. He held her fiercly, pressing his mouth against the crook of her neck in a wordless prayer for absolution.
****
"Rabb." Webb briefly looked up from his desk without surprise. "I was expecting you sooner."
"What are you talking about, Webb?" said Rabb, barging through the door without an invitation.
Webb shrugged, "I would have thought you'd eventually come by to kick my 'six' for putting MacKenzie through danger."
"I was tempted," Rabb retorted.
"I know." Webb paused, "Look, as much as I love our little talks, there's somewhere I need to be." Turning around, he walked to a file cabinet, briskly pulling out several files and inserting them into a leather case. He continued to busy his hands, shuffling important looking documents into small neat piles. "You're still here," he pointed out after he had nothing left to do.
Rabb huffed out a long suffering sigh, "Look, I don't know what you're doing that's so damn important but there are people out there that need you. Stop hiding Webb."
"I'm busy." It sounded weak when he said it aloud and inwardly he cringed at the look of disbelief on Rabb's face, wondering when he had allowed his feelings to become so transparent. "I can't."
"I've always pegged you as an ass Webb, when did you become a coward?" With that cutting remark so typically Rabb, he slashed through Webb's defenses by pointing out the painful truth.
"Did she tell you what happened out there?" Webb asked, the muscles in his shoulder stretched out tight as he waited for Rabb's answer.
Rabb hesitated for a moment, "I know what happened Webb."
"Are you sure you know everything?" Webb asked. He picked up the slight tension in Rabb's shoulders that showed his insecurity. So she hadn't told Rabb everything Webb noted with a grim satisfaction.
"I know what's important," said Rabb, riled at Webb's implication and tone.
"And what makes you so sure that she needs me?"
Harm was silent for only a moment before he countered, "She needs something."
"Well, why don't you go ride in to rescue her and stop wasting my time," Webb snapped. "You seem quite adept at playing the hero."
"Do you think I haven't done everything I could to help her? That coming to you was my first choice?" asked Rabb, his voice powered by his frustrations. "She doesn't need me." He paused, his voice tinged with regret and bitterness. "She doesn't want me."
"What makes you the expert on what she wants or needs?" Webb asked, his voice tight. "She waited for you for years. Where was your brilliant insight then?"
"I don't see how any of that is your business," said Rabb, equally irritated. "This isn't about me."
"Of course it's about you," Webb said. "If it involves Sarah, it involves you." Rabb froze and Webb instantly realized his slip. "That's why you're here, isn't it," he tried to misdirect.
"When did she become Sarah?" Rabb's voice was quiet.
Idiot, Webb cursed, way to distance your self from her. His voice was dry, "I worked with her. We played husband and wife. We almost died together. I think I get to call her by her first name."
Harm remained silent.
"What would I say to her?" Webb finally asked. "I'm sorry I almost got you killed. Maybe we can do lunch sometime." His eyes were bitter as he looked straight into Rabb's eyes. "Why are you pushing this? She would be dead-"
If it weren't for you- he didn't have to say the rest out loud. The words hung between them mocking him. In the end, that's what it really came down to. He hadn't been able to save her. His extensive training, his Harvard education, his CIA background, all of it hadn't been enough to save her. When push came to shove, for all his flaws, Rabb was the one who pulled through for Mac and Clayton Webb was useless.
"I know you did what you could," said Rabb. "But you shouldn't have put her in that kind of situation," he coudln't help but add.
"What kind of situation?" Webb bristled. "This may have slipped your notice but she's a marine. I told her the risks before she got involved and I trusted her to handle herself in potentially dangerous situations." He thought back to a small dark room as she cradled him in her arms. "And she did."
"I know," said Rabb. "I just don't want to loose her." He raked his finger through his hair in frustration. "She's hurting and there's nothing I can do but watch."
Webb sighed, "What makes you think I can help her if you couldn't."
"I don't know," Rabb honestly answered. "Call it instinct."
"Great," Webb muttered, rubbing an aching spot just above his right eye. "I hate your instincts."
"That's because they're always right," Rabb answered with a cocky smirk. He eyed Webb and sobered, "You both look like hell. Grow up Webb, stop fielding her calls." He walked towards the door, stopping before he stepped outside the room. "I do love her," he added.
"I never questioned that," Webb answered. He looked at Rabb, asking the one question he was never able to completely figure out. "Why do you always push her away?"
Rabb was silent. "That's between me and her."
"Whatever," Webb replied, highly annoyed he asked at all. "It doesn't matter to me what you two do. Get married, have twenty kids and a dog for all I care."
Rabb stared at him, his eyes widening as sudden realization knocked the air out of his lungs. His voice was low, "Go to her, Webb. She needs you." The faint smile on his face was infinitely sad. "There's nothing 'I' can do for her now."
After Rabb was gone, Webb slumped into his chair, his head resting against his hands. If you only knew Rabb, he mumbled into the silence. You'd know I couldn't help her either.
He had been reluctant to visit her, afraid of finding the shattered pieces of the female he inadvertently broke.
It had been bad. His colleagues that got him out of Sadik's hacienda had gotten him to emergency medical care in the nick of time. Literally. Had he been left alone any longer, it would be doubtful that he would still be here today.
He held no illusions. If Mac not been with him, Clayton Webb would not be hobbling about today. Yet he was called the hero. He was clapped on the shoulder and given silent adulations because he 'shielded' her body with his own. Webb never bothered to set them straight.
He would have liked to pretend that he protected Mac because he was a good man, a decent human, but he knew the truth. It was blaringly obvious, and he could not hide from it.
He was selfish. It was that plain and that simple.
The thought of watching her suffer, sitting on the sidelines and hearing them break her was not a scenario he could stomach. If they were going to die, he wanted to go first if only to insure that he never heard her screams.
So he had bought her brief safety the only way he could. All he had to do was keep them occupied. And for this he was commended. No one understood Webb had thought they were both as good as dead. That while he was dragged away each morning, when they brought him back there would be a person waiting for him. A warm body that would hold him, comfort and cry for him. Up to his death, he would have the consolation of companionship. That was a hell of a lot more then she would get after he was gone and it was her turn. He volunteered for death so he wouldn't be alone.
She was completely right. He was an ass.
There had been her hope of rescue. For a marine whose slogan was, "we don't leave our men behind," a team sent in for their safe recovery didn't seem too delusional. But he wasn't a marine. He was in the company. And if they would have anything at all to say about him after his capture, it would go along the line of "Clay- who?"
And after that public denial to their knowledge of his existence, they would look at his file as dutifully reported by the station chief Edward wondering, why the hell did Webb choose to go unmanned into a hostile situation with no plan, intel or backup. It was like he was asking to be caught. They wouldn't understand how a seasoned agent would put himself in that much risk and it was doubtful the single word "Mac" would be a sufficient explanation to any excluding those who personally knew her.
He didn't even fully understand it himself, but he was nominally sure it had to do with a particular pig headed marine that would run alone into a heavily armed camp filled with known terrorists, guns blazing to save one friend. Somehow he got caught in her ride. Of course he would never forget he picked the road. Who knows, maybe that was why he couldn't let her go alone to rescue Gunny.
But there was something else. It was her face. The mixture of hurt bewilderment and disbelief after he told her she was on her own. He'd seen looks of betrayal before, most of them directed at him, but none of them cut the way hers had. From that moment, he knew he was damned to follow her for as long as she let him. It was sheer pride that forced him to stand there alone as she stole his gun and walked to the truck as he made a pathetic stand of an empty threat he knew he couldn't see through, the whole time praying she wouldn't call his bluff.
He wondered if she would have gone for him. He wouldn't, and if Mac hadn't gone for Gunny, Webb certainly wouldn't have gone alone.
And then there was Edward. The two timing bastard who told Webb he was better off without Mac then hung him up to dry. As much as he relished the thought of pulling the trigger that would embed a bullet deep into Edward's brain, Webb had unfortunately been detained on the other side of the planet recovering from the multitude of injuries he sustained in the fastidious custody of Sadik and co.
By the time he was able to suck apple sauce through a straw, the situation with Edward had been resolved and another washed up agent was undoubtedly exploring the mind numbing effects of cheap cognac at that third world hell hole. Just another detail that had been passed along to him during his snail paced recovery.
Then he had been briefed on the nature of their recovery, heard about the way she 'fought like a wildcat' and 'gave them hell' until that 'nancy lawyer grabbed her by the arms and shook her like a doll.' He even saw the evil looking bruise she gave one of the reconnaissance members, right in the stomach. Hearing these accounts filled Webb's chest with a curious glow, something akin to pride. He shouldn't have expected less from her. She awed him she was so strong, his Sarah.
His.
He'd shared a lifetime with her in that barren room and like a memory, forever would a part of her belong to him that no one else could ever touch or understand.
****
Agony. She had never felt so much pain in her life. A small cry tore in her throat as another flash of pain attacked her nerves and she could hardly remember her name. She was blind to everything but the searing pain.
****
He could still hear the screams when he dreamt at night. The howls were primal and animalistic, like the high pitched wailing of a savage animal tortured to death. Webb would wake up in a cold sweat trying to remember if the screams belong to her or him.
'She needs you.'
Webb wanted to laugh at Rabb for his naivety. If Mac was broken, there was no one to blame but Webb. He should have stopped her. He should have protected her. He should have known she would sacrifice herself the moment he was too weak to stop her.
Webb wanted to laugh. He wanted to laugh until he cried.
He went to her instead.
Talk about extreme torture messing with a person's head. Not that Webb was surprised or complaining. She felt too good and he felt too old to ever be surprised by anything again. Even this, Sarah squeezing the life out of him in a bear hug.
"Miss me?" He hadn't seen her in months and that was the best his mind could come up with. She didn't answer and he didn't care. He was too occupied with pulling her in closer to think of anything clever to say.
Webb tried not to think of the last time he held her like this. The circumstances that turned a powerful marine into this fragile looking creature he was almost afraid of crushing in his embrace. Almost. He held her fiercly, pressing his mouth against the crook of her neck in a wordless prayer for absolution.
****