Title: Memories
Author: SweetSeptemberSky (Emmy)
Disclaimer: Just taking our Flyboy out for a quick drive. I promise to
return him.
Spoilers: None really, but it does follow the guitar scene from "Shifting
Sands"
Rating: PG-13 for language (nothing extreme)
The memories flood my mind as I start playing one of my old favorite blues pieces. Kate, Meg, Krennick, Imes, Lindsey, Mattoni, Tiner, Harriet, the Admiral, Sturgis, Manetti, Gunny, Loren, Bud, Coates, Brumby, and Sarah; my sweet Sarah.
It's all her fault I don't have a job. If she hadn't gone on that goddamn mission with Webb, if it hadn't fallen apart and gone to hell, if I didn't always feel the need to make sure she was safe . . . if I didn't love her so much.
Ok, so maybe it's not all her fault; I'm partly to blame for not thinking this through, and just rushing off without any thought to the future, to what would happen when I came back.
But good god, she didn't even thank me! I give up everything I love: the Navy, flying, JAG, all to save her; and she isn't even grateful.
When I told her that I was out, back at the hospital, I was serious. I can't keep doing this anymore; I can't be near her knowing that my efforts weren't enough to win her heart, knowing that it's Webb she truly loves.
The memories keep coming, running through my mind and I finally relive the kiss on the Admiral's porch. Couldn't she tell how much I wanted her, needed her, loved her?
It doesn't really matter anymore; it's too late.
I've got to get out of here; I need to go somewhere. Somewhere so I can escape, and leave all these bittersweet memories behind.
I write a quick note to anyone who might come by, and unplug my telephone. Shoving some clothes and other necessary items into a duffel bag, I grab my guitar and keys before locking the door behind me, and placing a spare key behind the loose brick that everyone knows is there.
The ride in the elevator gives me a chance to think about where I'm going. She emailed me a few days before I resigned and told me that she was back. I hope she's not busy or away when I get there, I'm thinking while climbing into my 'Vette. My precious 'Vette is one of the few things I have to remind me of my previous life.
**************************************************************************
After driving around aimlessly for forty-five minutes, I come to a crossroads. Kindof ironic, isn't it? No matter where I turn, I have to decide which way I want to go, what fate might have in store for me if I take a certain turn.
Silently debating for a few seconds, making sure that this is what I really want, I turn right.
Five miles down the country road I turned on is the highway, leading me to Memphis, leading me to a place to think. But more importantly, it's leading me to someone who can help.
THE END
The memories flood my mind as I start playing one of my old favorite blues pieces. Kate, Meg, Krennick, Imes, Lindsey, Mattoni, Tiner, Harriet, the Admiral, Sturgis, Manetti, Gunny, Loren, Bud, Coates, Brumby, and Sarah; my sweet Sarah.
It's all her fault I don't have a job. If she hadn't gone on that goddamn mission with Webb, if it hadn't fallen apart and gone to hell, if I didn't always feel the need to make sure she was safe . . . if I didn't love her so much.
Ok, so maybe it's not all her fault; I'm partly to blame for not thinking this through, and just rushing off without any thought to the future, to what would happen when I came back.
But good god, she didn't even thank me! I give up everything I love: the Navy, flying, JAG, all to save her; and she isn't even grateful.
When I told her that I was out, back at the hospital, I was serious. I can't keep doing this anymore; I can't be near her knowing that my efforts weren't enough to win her heart, knowing that it's Webb she truly loves.
The memories keep coming, running through my mind and I finally relive the kiss on the Admiral's porch. Couldn't she tell how much I wanted her, needed her, loved her?
It doesn't really matter anymore; it's too late.
I've got to get out of here; I need to go somewhere. Somewhere so I can escape, and leave all these bittersweet memories behind.
I write a quick note to anyone who might come by, and unplug my telephone. Shoving some clothes and other necessary items into a duffel bag, I grab my guitar and keys before locking the door behind me, and placing a spare key behind the loose brick that everyone knows is there.
The ride in the elevator gives me a chance to think about where I'm going. She emailed me a few days before I resigned and told me that she was back. I hope she's not busy or away when I get there, I'm thinking while climbing into my 'Vette. My precious 'Vette is one of the few things I have to remind me of my previous life.
**************************************************************************
After driving around aimlessly for forty-five minutes, I come to a crossroads. Kindof ironic, isn't it? No matter where I turn, I have to decide which way I want to go, what fate might have in store for me if I take a certain turn.
Silently debating for a few seconds, making sure that this is what I really want, I turn right.
Five miles down the country road I turned on is the highway, leading me to Memphis, leading me to a place to think. But more importantly, it's leading me to someone who can help.
THE END