AN: I have been watching Band of Brothers this week, and it helped me immensely in forming an image of Ross in the military.  It's a great series; I highly recommend it.

The Age of Aquarius

Chapter Eighteen: All You Need is Love

She loves you

And you know that can't be bad

She loves you

With a love like that, you know you should be glad

('She Loves You' Lennon/McCartney)

Saigon, Vietnam

When you are away from everything, and everyone that you know, a vacuum is created, and suddenly, you don't know who you are anymore—nothing is the same—you aren't the same.

The result can be painfully stifling, or amazingly liberating.

The image that Ross Geller had of himself before he arrived in Vietnam was very different from the one carried with him at the moment.

His parents always loved him—perhaps a little too much.  They coddled him, adored him, spoiled him, and made him believe that he was capable of achieving anything.

He truly believed that he could be the very best at everything that he tried.

The United States Army gave him a dose of reality that he wasn't quite prepared for.

There was no denying that Ross was exceptionally intelligent—he was a great strategist, and a terrific map-reader. 

But when he was put out onto the field, and in pressure situations, he would simply crumble.

The military, being the well-rounded organization that it is, was able to work around Ross' weaknesses, and take advantage of his strengths.  They'd made him an intelligence officer, a job he'd excelled at, but hated.

He longed to be out in the field, fighting the Viet Cong, defending freedom and honor, the way his father had…the way his grandfather had.

In two days he was leaving Saigon, and heading back to the United States.  He knew his parents, his sister and his friends would all wonder how he'd managed to survive, and would hound him for stories about his tour.

What could he tell them?  He'd spent the majority of his time here in offices, or riding from base to base, watching as other men suffered the casualties of war.  The closest he'd ever come to combat was his trip across the border, where he'd watched helplessly as his captain and two soldiers he'd barely known had been killed mercilessly.  Sure he'd been shot, but at the time, he hadn't even had the good sense to turn around and fire back.

He stood up, and walked to his office window.  Below him the streets were in chaos, as word that the Viet Cong were closing in spread.  He thought of Mei Ha, and how frightened she had been the night before.  He'd promised to take her with him, when he left for the US—but he knew that the military would only allow it if they were married.

And among the smoke and chaos of the war, and a city that was on the verge of destruction, their true identities seemed lost, and their lives revolved around nothing but that moment.  Both of them were so desperate for some kind of harmony, some sense of sanity amongst the bedlam, that they were willing to do anything.

He'd married her, not only to save her, but to save himself.

New York City

"You're wondering, aren't you?"

"What?"

"My leg.  You're wondering what happened to it."

"I—"

"It's okay, there's nothing wrong with being curious."

Rachel sipped her coffee nervously, and averted her eyes.  She hadn't meant to stare, and she didn't want to hurt his feelings, but it was impossible for her not to wonder.

"It was a land mine.  In Vietnam."

"Oh," Rachel looked up at Joey, who was looking at her intently.

"We were running for the border…taking some desk jockey to his cushy new job in the capital…but the Commies got there before us, and rigged the field.  At least I think that's what happened.  Anyway, I woke up in a prison camp, and my leg was…gone."

"Wow," Rachel whispered, her eyes watering, "that's...that's…I don't know what to say."

Joey shrugged, and sighed heavily.

"How did you get out?"

"A…friend…he was with me when the bomb went off…he didn't lose any limbs or anything," Joey shook his head, and for a split-second, Rachel thought she saw a glint of resentment residing in his chocolate eyes.

"Where's your friend now?"

"I don't know," Joey's turned to look out of the coffee shop window, a faraway look lining his tired featured.

"Was he a good friend?" Rachel asked quietly.

"He saved my life," Joey replied, with more bitterness that he had intended.

Saigon, Vietnam

He was sat in his chair, his head leaned back, his hands folded neatly in his lap, his mind wandering, when the bomb went off.

It shook the foundation of the building, knocked photos off of the walls, and knocked plaster from the ceiling.

In an instant, the Embassy was chaos; papers fluttering, people screaming, and alarms sounding.

He rushed into the hallway, and watched, dumbfounded, as people hurried for the exits, only to be stopped by the military police.  Ross rushed toward the door.

"What the hell is going on?  Why can't we leave?" he asked the first MP he saw.

"Sir, there are riots in the streets.  You'd be safer here," the MP replied hastily.

"Here?  You mean here where a bomb just went off?" Ross asked incredulously.

"Sir," a Private approached Ross from behind, "The Ambassador is evacuating from the roof.  He wants you out too."

"I have to find my wife!" Ross replied angrily.

"There's no time Sir.  We'll send people for her—please Sir, follow me."

Ross looked back at the MP, before turning and following the Private to the roof, where a large green military chopper was waiting.

"Come on sir," the Private yelled over the noise, "It's time to go home."

*

Somewhere in North Vietnam

"We're getting close," the Captain muttered, as he led his platoon through the thick foliage slowly.

"How can you tell, sir?" the Lieutenant asked.

"This place is covered with booby traps—look," the Captain stopped and pointed at a small branch that had been laid carefully across the makeshift trail, "Warn your men, and stay alert…the compound must be close by."

The Lieutenant nodded and turned back to his men, as the Captain moved toward the trap.

He crouched over the branch, and gingerly ran a finger across it.

"Clever little Commies," he whispered, shaking his head as he moved to stand.

Suddenly, a man pounced from behind a large fallen tree, and tackled the Captain to the ground.  The man straddled the Captain, and pressed a knife to his neck.

The captain looked up at the man, his face completely covered in blackish-green mud, his clothing torn and blood stained, his breath hot and ragged. There was a menacing fire lining the man's eyes…his deep blue eyes.

"What in the hell are you doing?" the Captain yelled, as his men approached, weapons drawn, "Don't shoot him!  He's American…I think," the Captain choked out, as the muddy man applied more pressure to the knife on his throat.

"We're on your side, son," the Captain said quietly, then watched as his words registered with the young man.  The man looked up at the other soldiers, his anger slowly melting into fear.  He looked back down at the Captain before scrambling to his feet, and disappearing into the trees.

"Sir, are you alright?" the Lieutenant ran toward the Captain, and crouched next to him.

"I'm fine, Lieutenant. Send some of your men after than man!"

"Who was he?"

"I don't know. But I'll be damned if I'm gonna let him run around this jungle like some fucking lunatic."

"Yes Sir," the Lieutenant replied, then looked back at his men, "Martin, Goldman and Parker—find that man—we want him alive!"

"Yes sir!" the men said in unison, and shot into the trees.

"Watch out for traps!" the Captain yelled, as he stood up, holding his throat and counting his blessings.

There's nothing you can do that can't be done.

Nothing you can sing that can't be sung.

Nothing you can say but you can learn how to play the game

It's easy.

There's nothing you can make that can't be made.

No one you can save that can't be saved.

Nothing you can do but you can learn how to be in time.

('All You Need is Love' Lennon/McCartney)