Title: A TRIP TO AFGHANISTAN III
WORDS ARE NOT ENOUGH
Series: A Trip to Afghanistan
Author: Piper86
Email: improvkris@yahoo.com
Rating: PG-13 for violence
Classification: Harm/Mac pairing, JAG story
Spoilers: A little IN COUNTRY goes a long way ...
NOTE: The lyrics mentioned are from the song "Post Mortem Bar," found on the soundtrack to the film "Longtime Companion"
CHAPTER III - WORDS ARE NOT ENOUGH
Harm's eyes never left her face. His hand grew numb as he kept up the rhythm, squeezing a little more air into Mac every few seconds. He could no longer feel where his hand ended and the bag began. Exhaustion closed his eyes, and it was only then he realized that they were as dry as the sand blowing outside. He couldn't remember the last time he'd even blinked. All his energy was focused on the battered woman before him.
She had not moved since the SEAL medics administered a dose of morphine. It had been the only way they could get her thrashing body to relax enough to intubate her and help her breathe. Harm started to shake at the thought of how close he'd come to watching her die. He knew that death was not far away from her. He could feel it crouching in the shadows of their cave ... hungry and waiting ...
Patient ...
As patient as she had been with him, for so many years. Rabb, you're a complete ass, he cursed to himself. All the time wasted. Just a few short weeks ago she had lain in his arms, out here in the Afghan desert. She hadn't even wanted to lie next to him without an invitation. He had given her one, albeit flippant, on the pretext of preserving body heat. He gazed down at his arms ... she had been right there. With him, warm and soft and open. He could still feel her breath on his neck, her hair on his cheek.
The bombing run had broken their moment of peace. In an instant they had been scrambling for cover, another chance wasted. And the next time he held her, she was almost destroyed. Sacrificing herself for him. His chest burned every time he thought about what Webb had told him.
I think ... I think she was trying to protect you Harm.
But she couldn't protect him from the one thing he so desperately feared - losing her. His head sagged as his free hand once more caressed her face.
God, Sarah.
One of the medics appeared at the cave entrance. "Sir, I can take over for awhile. You need to rest. You'll need your strength. The Lt. says the wind is dying down. We'll get moving in an hour or so."
He gently disengaged Harm's hand from the breathing apparatus, and seamlessly resumed the rhythm. Harm could only crawl to Mac's other side, stretching out beside her, laying his hand on her right arm as he drifted into sleep.
The dream came gently, weaving into his mind. He was standing at the back of the cave, a bright fire burning in front of him. Shadows danced on the walls, in the shape of the flames. He saw the outline of a woman at the mouth of the cave. Moonlight shone on her shoulders, framed her hair. She slowly stepped into the cave.
"Sarah" Harm whispered.
She walked towards the fire, staring into the flames. She stopped in front of it, right across from Harm. Only then did she raise her head to look at him. She was naked, and completely unharmed. The hot fire made sweat stand out on her skin. She was so beautiful. The flames leapt higher, licking the cave's low ceiling. Her eyes never left his.
He felt a hot wind swirl around him. He shielded his eyes and stepped back from the fire, which the wind had turned in his direction. He looked again at Mac, who was slowly raising her arms out to her sides. They were covered in ugly, bleeding welts. Harm screamed her name, only to see a jagged red slash appear across her chest. She tilted her head back suddenly, as if she'd been struck. Harm tried to reach her, but the fire kept him at bay, a slave to its will. Whichever way he went, it followed him, spurred on by the hot wind.
Then he saw them ... the shadows on the cave walls. No longer reflections of the flames. They were faces. No, one face ... the same face. Smiling, almost laughing. Shadow arms reached out along the cave walls towards Mac. Harm saw her spin as they grabbed at her flesh. He watched as these demon arms dug angry slits into the skin of her back.
The arms spun her again, lifting her off the ground. She hung there, arms and legs outstretched, her body slowly being destroyed. Harm frantically tried to reach her, crying out her name. Her eyes never left his. The look in them was one of pure suffering. He watched as tears formed on her cheeks. Tears that soon turned to drops of blood. It was then that a shadow reached down from the ceiling, covering her face in darkness.
"SARAH!!!!!" Harm screamed, bolting upright from his position beside her. He was covered in sweat, pale and breathing raggedly.
"Sir! Are you all right?" the medic asked him, obviously worried. "You were having some nightmare, from the sound of it."
"Sarah ... Colonel MacKenzie ... she's ...?" Harm stammered.
"No change, sir. She's holding on."
Harm shakily got to his feet, stumbling outside and gasping deep breaths of the cool night air. The wind had completely died down. He saw the SEAL team packing their gear and preparing to move. He turned around and looked back into the cave. The second medic came up behind Harm, and passed under him to talk to his partner. Two more SEALS came up with Mac's stretcher. In a few minutes, they once more had her secured and ready for transport.
Harm was too exhausted to continue her breathing, but he insisted on walking beside her. The team continued picking their way through the sand and loose rocks. Every so often they would stop, check Mac, and trade off the person giving her air. For three hours they continued, finally seeing lights from the village in the far distance. The RIO called in their location, requesting an immediate medical evacuation to the Patrick Henry. He then turned to Harm.
"Sir, that helo should be at the village when we arrive. They'll take you both back to the Henry."
Harm could only nod. Ever since they had gotten back underway, he had been plagued by his nightmare. Mac's body tortured in front of him. And the shadows claiming her ... he shuddered at the memory of it. He pressed on, never leaving her stretcher.
The lights from the village didn't seem to be getting any closer. His headache had returned with a vengeance. He was thankful for the darkness, the bright sun may very well have overwhelmed him. His eyes were half closed, his hand gently touching Mac's shoulder now and then.
They finally came out of the hills to the helo waiting for them just outside the village. The SEALS made quick work loading Mac into the copter, while the medics gave a rundown of her condition to the crew. In the meantime, Harm hauled himself into the aircraft. He would not leave her. One of the helo crew grabbed him by the arm and started to ask him a question, but the look Harm gave him stopped the young man cold. He released Harm's arm and let him be, sitting next to Mac.
Harm searched out the medics, giving them a nod of thanks as the helo door slid shut. Both nodded in return, snapping to a sharp salute. Harm then turned his attention to Mac, as the helo crew did a full assessment of her.
It took what seemed seconds to reach the ship, compared to the hell they went through to get to the village. Mac was carefully unloaded on deck and swept away to sickbay. Harm tried to keep up, but fell off the pace as his body finally rebelled against him. An ensign noticed his obvious exhaustion and helped him the rest of the way to sickbay.
Harm could not see Mac while they worked on her. A nurse attended to his head, cleaning and bandaging the wound. She warned Harm about the possibilities of a concussion. He nodded absently, still focused on Mac, and on his nightmare. He didn't like not being able to see her.
Both he and the nurse jumped as they heard a heart monitor start to flatline. The nurse ran to the other compartment, Harm gripping the table underneath him. He thought he saw shadows ... arms ... dancing along the walls of the medical unit. Headed towards Mac.
"Nooooooo!!!!" He cried out, running after the apparitions. They dissolved into a mist as he reached the door, hearing the return of a heartbeat to the monitor.
The medical team breathed sighs of relief. She was still with them. Still alive. As the crowd of people started to separate, Harm could see Mac lying on an exam table. They had her on a respirator. The tubing snaked its way from her mouth to a noisy little machine sitting under the heart monitor.
"Commander, come in." urged one of the staff.
Harm felt himself being pulled into the compartment. Mac lay before him, black and purple bruises standing out against her unnaturally pale skin. She looked unreal. But her chest was rising visibly, and she was alive. Alive.
He walked over to her, leaning over and letting one finger trace the hair away from her forehead. Only then did he realize that her eyes were open slightly. His breath caught as they opened further, revealing the soft brown eyes he knew so well. They tried to focus on him. He eagerly touched her face, careful not to hurt her.
"That's it Sarah. You're on the Henry. We got you out. You're going to be all right. You're ..."
She continued to look at him, stopping his words. The eyes gazing up at him were brimming with emotion. Relief. Love. And so much pain.
He returned her gaze, locking eyes with her. His hand slipped to her throat, gently stroking it with his thumb. Sweeping under her jaw line, careful not to disturb the ventilator hoses. His other hand slid under her head, cradling the back of it with his palm. He opened and closed his mouth, too overwhelmed to speak.
Slowly, he lowered his face to hers. Their eyes never leaving each other's. He tenderly brushed his lips over her drooping eyelids, closing his own eyes as he did. He didn't dare do more, not wanting to cause her any more pain. He slowly pulled back from her, opening his eyes again. He watched her struggle to open her eyes, using every bit of strength she had. She was looking straight into his soul, her eyes full. He watched as a single tear made its way down her cheek. He gingerly kissed it away. He tasted its saltiness on his lips.
They stayed that way for hours, no words between them.
The silence saying everything.
THIRTY SIX HOURS LATER
FLIGHT DECK
USS PATRICK HENRY
Harm found himself making yet another appearance on deck, scanning the horizon for the medivac helo that start Mac on the journey home. The deck crew visibly shuddered when they saw him coming, preparing for their hundredth go-round with the anxious Navy Commander. Harm knew he was making a nuisance of himself, but some outside force compelled him. He had to make sure that everything was all right, running as expected, and that nothing would keep Mac from getting on this flight and to Bethesda. He had already cleared it with Admiral Chegwidden to fly back with her. The ship's doctor, Lt. Commander Haskett, had given him something for his headaches, and they were now under control. He was completely focused on Mac now.
It had been rough going since they returned from the Afghan village. Mac's heart had stopped briefly when she was first brought to sickbay. The medical team had resuscitated her, and she had regained consciousness for a while. Harm had refused to leave her for a second.
Some hours later she had closed her eyes, and not opened them again. Her body temperature fluctuated wildly, and her heartbeat was irregular at best. The medical officers had worked nonstop over the past 28 hours, since she became unconscious, trying desperately to stabilize her enough for evac. But the longer they waited, the more time became their enemy. Harm knew the clock was ticking, and it drove him close to frenzy.
After being told the helo was on time, due in the next hour, Harm retreated back to sickbay. He kept his time away from Mac to a bare minimum, not wanting to miss it should she wake up again. He bent his head to step into the compartment, immediately checking the monitors surrounding Mac. He couldn't see any change from when he left a few minutes before. Minutes. Ticking away.
He returned to his seat beside Mac, his fingers resuming a gentle, well-worn pattern up and down a bare patch of skin on her left arm. Her bruises had fully formed now, a few turning sickly yellow green, others still horribly black and purple. Her hair was wet, stuck to her forehead. She was feverish again. He reached for one of the wet cloths by his chair, and started to gently pat her forehead and cheeks. The sound of the respirator droned in the back of his head. A constant reminder that she was hanging on, but that she still might not...
"Rabb! pull it together," he chastised himself, she'll need you when she comes around.
Harm heard Lt. Commander Haskett coming into the compartment. Glancing up at him briefly, he nodded, then returned his full attention to Mac.
"Good morning, Commander," Haskett murmured.
Harm felt a pang of apprehension ... this was not his usual greeting.
"I understand the helo will be here within the hour, and I wanted to spend some time with you before we get Colonel MacKenzie out of here."
Harm slowly turned to face Haskett, his hand now coming to rest on Mac's forehead, holding a damp cloth in place. Cmdr. Haskett wheeled a chair over to sit with Harm, facing him.
Harm couldn't help swallowing hard as Haskett looked down at his hands, rubbing them together. He took a long pause before raising his eyes to meet Harm's gaze. Harm could feel his heart starting to sink, hearing the doctor's deep intake of breath.
"Commander, as you know, Colonel MacKenzie suffered severe, life-threatening trauma to over 75 percent of her body. Her care was hampered by the remote location, and the delay in getting her back to the Henry. We're not equipped ourselves to handle a trauma case like hers for such a long time, not to mention stronger antibiotics for the infection in her back. And then there's the surgery she needs for her internal injuries."
The doctor would not meet Harm's gaze. His eyes dropped back to his hands. Harm stared at the top of Haskett's head as the doctor continued.
"Not that we had a choice. She never would have survived a long flight in the condition she was in when she got here. We did the right thing keeping her here."
Harm blinked, turning to look at Mac's stricken face. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a shadow start to slither up the wall. The nightmare in the cave was creeping out of his dreams. There was a roaring in his ears, through which he heard Haskett's voice again.
"Commander," Haskett said, running a hand through his hair, "Sir, the Colonel ... she ... "
"NO!" Harm's booming voice cut him off. Harm watched as the shadow continued to creep along the wall, reaching the ceiling.
"Commander, please understand" Haskett laid a hand on Harm's arm, "I have to prepare you for what may very well happen. She's still with us, and that's a good sign. But she has such a long way to go. Her body and will are strong. Without them she never would have left that interrogation room alive. But she's been fighting for a long time, mostly on her own, and her body is getting very, very weak. She's tired out, she's ... ..."
"She's STRONG! She's strong enough to keep holding on. I KNOW IT!!" Harm's shouting made the doctor jump a little, and Harm thought he saw the shadow retreating a bit as well. He raged on, "You just get her onto that helo, Haskett. She'll survive. You just get her that far, and I'll get her the rest of the way. She's going to live!!"
Haskett slowly rose to his feet, placing a hand on Harm's trembling shoulder. He spoke softly, "They'll do a full assessment on her at Bethesda. Getting the infection under control will be the first hurdle. Then they'll be able to do surgery and re-inflate her lung. I don't know what they'll be able to do about her hand. The bones are crushed. Commander, I'll get her to the helo. I just can't give you any promises past that."
With that, Haskett left the two of them alone.
Silence enveloped them, interrupted only by the sounds of the machines connected to her. He closed his eyes, and again saw the image of her from his dream. Naked, untouched. So alive. He willed the rest of the dream away, before the horrible scene overwhelmed him again.
He tried to form words, to speak to her. He wanted nothing more than to be back in the desert, holding her under the stars, and this time pouring out his heart. His jaw clenched, working up and down. He let a finger brush over her swollen cheek, down to her neck and over her collarbone. He bent close to her ear, feeling the heat emanating from her skin. Softly, he began to sing.
If I could have one more day with you
The way it used to be
All the things I should have said
Would pour out of me...
He gingerly kissed her ear, unable to continue.
"Oh, Sarah ... God ... please ..."
Hot tears ran down his face, as he felt the shadows drawing nearer.
A voice split the darkness around him.
"Commander, the helo's here. We're ready to move her."
WORDS ARE NOT ENOUGH
Series: A Trip to Afghanistan
Author: Piper86
Email: improvkris@yahoo.com
Rating: PG-13 for violence
Classification: Harm/Mac pairing, JAG story
Spoilers: A little IN COUNTRY goes a long way ...
NOTE: The lyrics mentioned are from the song "Post Mortem Bar," found on the soundtrack to the film "Longtime Companion"
CHAPTER III - WORDS ARE NOT ENOUGH
Harm's eyes never left her face. His hand grew numb as he kept up the rhythm, squeezing a little more air into Mac every few seconds. He could no longer feel where his hand ended and the bag began. Exhaustion closed his eyes, and it was only then he realized that they were as dry as the sand blowing outside. He couldn't remember the last time he'd even blinked. All his energy was focused on the battered woman before him.
She had not moved since the SEAL medics administered a dose of morphine. It had been the only way they could get her thrashing body to relax enough to intubate her and help her breathe. Harm started to shake at the thought of how close he'd come to watching her die. He knew that death was not far away from her. He could feel it crouching in the shadows of their cave ... hungry and waiting ...
Patient ...
As patient as she had been with him, for so many years. Rabb, you're a complete ass, he cursed to himself. All the time wasted. Just a few short weeks ago she had lain in his arms, out here in the Afghan desert. She hadn't even wanted to lie next to him without an invitation. He had given her one, albeit flippant, on the pretext of preserving body heat. He gazed down at his arms ... she had been right there. With him, warm and soft and open. He could still feel her breath on his neck, her hair on his cheek.
The bombing run had broken their moment of peace. In an instant they had been scrambling for cover, another chance wasted. And the next time he held her, she was almost destroyed. Sacrificing herself for him. His chest burned every time he thought about what Webb had told him.
I think ... I think she was trying to protect you Harm.
But she couldn't protect him from the one thing he so desperately feared - losing her. His head sagged as his free hand once more caressed her face.
God, Sarah.
One of the medics appeared at the cave entrance. "Sir, I can take over for awhile. You need to rest. You'll need your strength. The Lt. says the wind is dying down. We'll get moving in an hour or so."
He gently disengaged Harm's hand from the breathing apparatus, and seamlessly resumed the rhythm. Harm could only crawl to Mac's other side, stretching out beside her, laying his hand on her right arm as he drifted into sleep.
The dream came gently, weaving into his mind. He was standing at the back of the cave, a bright fire burning in front of him. Shadows danced on the walls, in the shape of the flames. He saw the outline of a woman at the mouth of the cave. Moonlight shone on her shoulders, framed her hair. She slowly stepped into the cave.
"Sarah" Harm whispered.
She walked towards the fire, staring into the flames. She stopped in front of it, right across from Harm. Only then did she raise her head to look at him. She was naked, and completely unharmed. The hot fire made sweat stand out on her skin. She was so beautiful. The flames leapt higher, licking the cave's low ceiling. Her eyes never left his.
He felt a hot wind swirl around him. He shielded his eyes and stepped back from the fire, which the wind had turned in his direction. He looked again at Mac, who was slowly raising her arms out to her sides. They were covered in ugly, bleeding welts. Harm screamed her name, only to see a jagged red slash appear across her chest. She tilted her head back suddenly, as if she'd been struck. Harm tried to reach her, but the fire kept him at bay, a slave to its will. Whichever way he went, it followed him, spurred on by the hot wind.
Then he saw them ... the shadows on the cave walls. No longer reflections of the flames. They were faces. No, one face ... the same face. Smiling, almost laughing. Shadow arms reached out along the cave walls towards Mac. Harm saw her spin as they grabbed at her flesh. He watched as these demon arms dug angry slits into the skin of her back.
The arms spun her again, lifting her off the ground. She hung there, arms and legs outstretched, her body slowly being destroyed. Harm frantically tried to reach her, crying out her name. Her eyes never left his. The look in them was one of pure suffering. He watched as tears formed on her cheeks. Tears that soon turned to drops of blood. It was then that a shadow reached down from the ceiling, covering her face in darkness.
"SARAH!!!!!" Harm screamed, bolting upright from his position beside her. He was covered in sweat, pale and breathing raggedly.
"Sir! Are you all right?" the medic asked him, obviously worried. "You were having some nightmare, from the sound of it."
"Sarah ... Colonel MacKenzie ... she's ...?" Harm stammered.
"No change, sir. She's holding on."
Harm shakily got to his feet, stumbling outside and gasping deep breaths of the cool night air. The wind had completely died down. He saw the SEAL team packing their gear and preparing to move. He turned around and looked back into the cave. The second medic came up behind Harm, and passed under him to talk to his partner. Two more SEALS came up with Mac's stretcher. In a few minutes, they once more had her secured and ready for transport.
Harm was too exhausted to continue her breathing, but he insisted on walking beside her. The team continued picking their way through the sand and loose rocks. Every so often they would stop, check Mac, and trade off the person giving her air. For three hours they continued, finally seeing lights from the village in the far distance. The RIO called in their location, requesting an immediate medical evacuation to the Patrick Henry. He then turned to Harm.
"Sir, that helo should be at the village when we arrive. They'll take you both back to the Henry."
Harm could only nod. Ever since they had gotten back underway, he had been plagued by his nightmare. Mac's body tortured in front of him. And the shadows claiming her ... he shuddered at the memory of it. He pressed on, never leaving her stretcher.
The lights from the village didn't seem to be getting any closer. His headache had returned with a vengeance. He was thankful for the darkness, the bright sun may very well have overwhelmed him. His eyes were half closed, his hand gently touching Mac's shoulder now and then.
They finally came out of the hills to the helo waiting for them just outside the village. The SEALS made quick work loading Mac into the copter, while the medics gave a rundown of her condition to the crew. In the meantime, Harm hauled himself into the aircraft. He would not leave her. One of the helo crew grabbed him by the arm and started to ask him a question, but the look Harm gave him stopped the young man cold. He released Harm's arm and let him be, sitting next to Mac.
Harm searched out the medics, giving them a nod of thanks as the helo door slid shut. Both nodded in return, snapping to a sharp salute. Harm then turned his attention to Mac, as the helo crew did a full assessment of her.
It took what seemed seconds to reach the ship, compared to the hell they went through to get to the village. Mac was carefully unloaded on deck and swept away to sickbay. Harm tried to keep up, but fell off the pace as his body finally rebelled against him. An ensign noticed his obvious exhaustion and helped him the rest of the way to sickbay.
Harm could not see Mac while they worked on her. A nurse attended to his head, cleaning and bandaging the wound. She warned Harm about the possibilities of a concussion. He nodded absently, still focused on Mac, and on his nightmare. He didn't like not being able to see her.
Both he and the nurse jumped as they heard a heart monitor start to flatline. The nurse ran to the other compartment, Harm gripping the table underneath him. He thought he saw shadows ... arms ... dancing along the walls of the medical unit. Headed towards Mac.
"Nooooooo!!!!" He cried out, running after the apparitions. They dissolved into a mist as he reached the door, hearing the return of a heartbeat to the monitor.
The medical team breathed sighs of relief. She was still with them. Still alive. As the crowd of people started to separate, Harm could see Mac lying on an exam table. They had her on a respirator. The tubing snaked its way from her mouth to a noisy little machine sitting under the heart monitor.
"Commander, come in." urged one of the staff.
Harm felt himself being pulled into the compartment. Mac lay before him, black and purple bruises standing out against her unnaturally pale skin. She looked unreal. But her chest was rising visibly, and she was alive. Alive.
He walked over to her, leaning over and letting one finger trace the hair away from her forehead. Only then did he realize that her eyes were open slightly. His breath caught as they opened further, revealing the soft brown eyes he knew so well. They tried to focus on him. He eagerly touched her face, careful not to hurt her.
"That's it Sarah. You're on the Henry. We got you out. You're going to be all right. You're ..."
She continued to look at him, stopping his words. The eyes gazing up at him were brimming with emotion. Relief. Love. And so much pain.
He returned her gaze, locking eyes with her. His hand slipped to her throat, gently stroking it with his thumb. Sweeping under her jaw line, careful not to disturb the ventilator hoses. His other hand slid under her head, cradling the back of it with his palm. He opened and closed his mouth, too overwhelmed to speak.
Slowly, he lowered his face to hers. Their eyes never leaving each other's. He tenderly brushed his lips over her drooping eyelids, closing his own eyes as he did. He didn't dare do more, not wanting to cause her any more pain. He slowly pulled back from her, opening his eyes again. He watched her struggle to open her eyes, using every bit of strength she had. She was looking straight into his soul, her eyes full. He watched as a single tear made its way down her cheek. He gingerly kissed it away. He tasted its saltiness on his lips.
They stayed that way for hours, no words between them.
The silence saying everything.
THIRTY SIX HOURS LATER
FLIGHT DECK
USS PATRICK HENRY
Harm found himself making yet another appearance on deck, scanning the horizon for the medivac helo that start Mac on the journey home. The deck crew visibly shuddered when they saw him coming, preparing for their hundredth go-round with the anxious Navy Commander. Harm knew he was making a nuisance of himself, but some outside force compelled him. He had to make sure that everything was all right, running as expected, and that nothing would keep Mac from getting on this flight and to Bethesda. He had already cleared it with Admiral Chegwidden to fly back with her. The ship's doctor, Lt. Commander Haskett, had given him something for his headaches, and they were now under control. He was completely focused on Mac now.
It had been rough going since they returned from the Afghan village. Mac's heart had stopped briefly when she was first brought to sickbay. The medical team had resuscitated her, and she had regained consciousness for a while. Harm had refused to leave her for a second.
Some hours later she had closed her eyes, and not opened them again. Her body temperature fluctuated wildly, and her heartbeat was irregular at best. The medical officers had worked nonstop over the past 28 hours, since she became unconscious, trying desperately to stabilize her enough for evac. But the longer they waited, the more time became their enemy. Harm knew the clock was ticking, and it drove him close to frenzy.
After being told the helo was on time, due in the next hour, Harm retreated back to sickbay. He kept his time away from Mac to a bare minimum, not wanting to miss it should she wake up again. He bent his head to step into the compartment, immediately checking the monitors surrounding Mac. He couldn't see any change from when he left a few minutes before. Minutes. Ticking away.
He returned to his seat beside Mac, his fingers resuming a gentle, well-worn pattern up and down a bare patch of skin on her left arm. Her bruises had fully formed now, a few turning sickly yellow green, others still horribly black and purple. Her hair was wet, stuck to her forehead. She was feverish again. He reached for one of the wet cloths by his chair, and started to gently pat her forehead and cheeks. The sound of the respirator droned in the back of his head. A constant reminder that she was hanging on, but that she still might not...
"Rabb! pull it together," he chastised himself, she'll need you when she comes around.
Harm heard Lt. Commander Haskett coming into the compartment. Glancing up at him briefly, he nodded, then returned his full attention to Mac.
"Good morning, Commander," Haskett murmured.
Harm felt a pang of apprehension ... this was not his usual greeting.
"I understand the helo will be here within the hour, and I wanted to spend some time with you before we get Colonel MacKenzie out of here."
Harm slowly turned to face Haskett, his hand now coming to rest on Mac's forehead, holding a damp cloth in place. Cmdr. Haskett wheeled a chair over to sit with Harm, facing him.
Harm couldn't help swallowing hard as Haskett looked down at his hands, rubbing them together. He took a long pause before raising his eyes to meet Harm's gaze. Harm could feel his heart starting to sink, hearing the doctor's deep intake of breath.
"Commander, as you know, Colonel MacKenzie suffered severe, life-threatening trauma to over 75 percent of her body. Her care was hampered by the remote location, and the delay in getting her back to the Henry. We're not equipped ourselves to handle a trauma case like hers for such a long time, not to mention stronger antibiotics for the infection in her back. And then there's the surgery she needs for her internal injuries."
The doctor would not meet Harm's gaze. His eyes dropped back to his hands. Harm stared at the top of Haskett's head as the doctor continued.
"Not that we had a choice. She never would have survived a long flight in the condition she was in when she got here. We did the right thing keeping her here."
Harm blinked, turning to look at Mac's stricken face. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a shadow start to slither up the wall. The nightmare in the cave was creeping out of his dreams. There was a roaring in his ears, through which he heard Haskett's voice again.
"Commander," Haskett said, running a hand through his hair, "Sir, the Colonel ... she ... "
"NO!" Harm's booming voice cut him off. Harm watched as the shadow continued to creep along the wall, reaching the ceiling.
"Commander, please understand" Haskett laid a hand on Harm's arm, "I have to prepare you for what may very well happen. She's still with us, and that's a good sign. But she has such a long way to go. Her body and will are strong. Without them she never would have left that interrogation room alive. But she's been fighting for a long time, mostly on her own, and her body is getting very, very weak. She's tired out, she's ... ..."
"She's STRONG! She's strong enough to keep holding on. I KNOW IT!!" Harm's shouting made the doctor jump a little, and Harm thought he saw the shadow retreating a bit as well. He raged on, "You just get her onto that helo, Haskett. She'll survive. You just get her that far, and I'll get her the rest of the way. She's going to live!!"
Haskett slowly rose to his feet, placing a hand on Harm's trembling shoulder. He spoke softly, "They'll do a full assessment on her at Bethesda. Getting the infection under control will be the first hurdle. Then they'll be able to do surgery and re-inflate her lung. I don't know what they'll be able to do about her hand. The bones are crushed. Commander, I'll get her to the helo. I just can't give you any promises past that."
With that, Haskett left the two of them alone.
Silence enveloped them, interrupted only by the sounds of the machines connected to her. He closed his eyes, and again saw the image of her from his dream. Naked, untouched. So alive. He willed the rest of the dream away, before the horrible scene overwhelmed him again.
He tried to form words, to speak to her. He wanted nothing more than to be back in the desert, holding her under the stars, and this time pouring out his heart. His jaw clenched, working up and down. He let a finger brush over her swollen cheek, down to her neck and over her collarbone. He bent close to her ear, feeling the heat emanating from her skin. Softly, he began to sing.
If I could have one more day with you
The way it used to be
All the things I should have said
Would pour out of me...
He gingerly kissed her ear, unable to continue.
"Oh, Sarah ... God ... please ..."
Hot tears ran down his face, as he felt the shadows drawing nearer.
A voice split the darkness around him.
"Commander, the helo's here. We're ready to move her."