Author note: Character's internal thoughts appear between // //
Northeast DC near Union Station 0500 EST The morning of . . .
The man turned restlessly in his bed, the expression on his face indicating that he was deep in REM sleep and *not* having a good dream. If anyone had been in the room to observe Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr., Navy JAG lawyer and sometime-Tomcat pilot, they would have correctly guessed that he was in the grip of an intense nightmare.
Suddenly, he gave a strangled yell and bolted up-right, physically forcing himself into consciousness. Harm took a moment to calm himself, noting with a pilot's detachment that his heart was racing, he was panting and sweating as if he had just finished a 7-minute mile, and the sheets on his bed were undone and tangled around his legs and waist.
He steadied his breathing and padded over the bathroom. He splashed lukewarm water over his face and grimaced at the tired, red-eyed reflection that looked back at him.
//Get a grip, Rabb. It's only a dream.//
Harm closed his eyes and the images from his nightmare immediately assailed him. His eyes snapped back open and he muttered aloud, "Yeah, a dream you've had three nights in a row."
He walked back into the bedroom and looked at the clock on the nightstand; 5:10 AM. He knew it would be a lost cause to try and go back to sleep for another hour. Permitting himself a sigh of frustration, Harm grabbed a clean pair of boxers from a dresser drawer and headed back to the bathroom for quick shower. It would clear some cobwebs before his morning run.
USS Seahawk The western Atlantic Ocean 0500 EST The morning of . . .
Lieutenant Colonel Sarah McKenzie found herself wide-awake, staring at the bottom of Petty Officer Coates' bunk for the third morning in a row.
Her internal clock told her it she had awoken at the same exact time she had the two previous mornings. With that realization, the reasonable Marine gave up her struggle to right off the images she had seen in her sleep as "just a silly dream." It was time to acknowledge that this was one more "incident," one that would drive her logical co-workers and commanding officer back at JAG, crazy.
She was having another vision.
Northeast DC near Union Station 0500 EST The morning of . . .
The man turned restlessly in his bed, the expression on his face indicating that he was deep in REM sleep and *not* having a good dream. If anyone had been in the room to observe Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr., Navy JAG lawyer and sometime-Tomcat pilot, they would have correctly guessed that he was in the grip of an intense nightmare.
Suddenly, he gave a strangled yell and bolted up-right, physically forcing himself into consciousness. Harm took a moment to calm himself, noting with a pilot's detachment that his heart was racing, he was panting and sweating as if he had just finished a 7-minute mile, and the sheets on his bed were undone and tangled around his legs and waist.
He steadied his breathing and padded over the bathroom. He splashed lukewarm water over his face and grimaced at the tired, red-eyed reflection that looked back at him.
//Get a grip, Rabb. It's only a dream.//
Harm closed his eyes and the images from his nightmare immediately assailed him. His eyes snapped back open and he muttered aloud, "Yeah, a dream you've had three nights in a row."
He walked back into the bedroom and looked at the clock on the nightstand; 5:10 AM. He knew it would be a lost cause to try and go back to sleep for another hour. Permitting himself a sigh of frustration, Harm grabbed a clean pair of boxers from a dresser drawer and headed back to the bathroom for quick shower. It would clear some cobwebs before his morning run.
USS Seahawk The western Atlantic Ocean 0500 EST The morning of . . .
Lieutenant Colonel Sarah McKenzie found herself wide-awake, staring at the bottom of Petty Officer Coates' bunk for the third morning in a row.
Her internal clock told her it she had awoken at the same exact time she had the two previous mornings. With that realization, the reasonable Marine gave up her struggle to right off the images she had seen in her sleep as "just a silly dream." It was time to acknowledge that this was one more "incident," one that would drive her logical co-workers and commanding officer back at JAG, crazy.
She was having another vision.