Please, don't shoot!

Chapter 22:
Interlude

"For he comes, the human child,

To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
From a world more full of weeping than he can understand."
--William Butler Yeats "The Stolen Child"

1800 Zulu
6 February 2004
Rabb Farm
Beallsville, Pennsylvania

Mac glanced over at Harm and smiled. He looked so innocent in his sleep. She hadn't minded the quiet car ride at all; it had given her time to think. He'd only roused once, just long enough to drink a few swallows of her coke to wash down some painkillers and the gel cap from of the antidote. She pulled onto the graveled lane and drove carefully up to the house before killing the engine and getting out of the car to stretch.

Mac walked around the car, opened the passenger side door, and laid her hand on Harm's shoulder. "Wake up, Harm. We're here."

Before Harm could open his eyes, Mac heard the sound of a screen door swinging open. She turned and watched as an elderly woman stepped out of the house and hurried down the steps. "Mrs. Rabb?" she asked, as the woman approached her.

The woman nodded. "Call me Grams," she said as she tucked a strand of thick, white hair behind her ear that had escaped from her bun.

"Yes, ma'am," Mac answered.

Grams walked around the side of the car and sighed softly as she caught sight of Harm. "What did they do to you, baby?" she whispered.

Harm opened his eyes, looked at her, and smiled. "I missed you, Grams," he said hoarsely.

Grams held out her hand. "Come on, sweetheart. It's time I put you to bed."

"But Grams," he said, "I just got here."

"Harmon Rabb, Junior," she scolded. "You come home with a broken leg, broken ribs, and cuts and bruises all over you; then expect me to let you stay up? You know better than that." Grams kissed him on the cheek. "I talked to your doctor, dear. He said that you need rest, so you will go to bed."

"Yes, ma'am," he answered, as he swung his legs out of the car.

"I wish I could get him to do stuff that easily," Mac observed with a smile.

Grams smiled, her blue eyes twinkling. "Sarah, I've been putting my grandson to bed since before he could walk. He got used to obeying me a long time ago. He does it now, and he'll do it when he's an admiral."

Mac got his crutches out of the back and handed them to him. "Lucky you," she said with a wink. "It takes him forever to agree to do anything I want him to do."

Harm opened his mouth, but Grams stopped him. "Hush, baby. I've got the double bed in the back room made up for you so that you don't have to climb the stairs. We're going to elevate that leg, and I'll bring in something for you to eat."

"Yes, ma'am," he said with a sigh.

"And then I can show Sarah your baby pictures," Grams said with a wide smile. She turned to Mac. "I have the cutest picture of him on a bear rug..."

"Grandma!" he protested.

"Harmon, be thankful your mother isn't here. She's got pictures of you from that time in Miramar when you decided that clothes weren't any fun. He was three," she explained, turning to Mac.

Harm moved a little ahead of them, and Mac could hear him muttering about being doomed. She tried to choke back her laughter but was unsuccessful in stopping a monumental case of the giggles.

Grams reached for Mac's hand, picked it up, and patted it. "That wasn't the last time, either, Sarah. I called to talk to his mother once, he was five, I think, and he answered the phone." She smiled in fond reminisce. "He talked to me for a while, then told me that he had to go take off all his clothes and run around the house." She laughed softly. "The next thing I heard was Trish calling his name and ordering him to get his clothes back on."

Mac chuckled. "So you're going to give me more blackmail material?" she asked.

"Of course, honey. That's what grandmas are for; to spoil their grandchildren and then give the love of their lives a steady stream of blackmail material on them." Grams reached out to steady Harm as they walked up the stairs to the wrap-around porch.

Mac opened the door and held it open for Harm and Grams, while Grams ushered him inside. "Follow me, Sarah," she called with a smile. "I'll show you the room I've put both you and my baby in."

Grams stood on her tiptoes and kissed Harm on the cheek. "I knew that you wouldn't want to be without her, Harmon."

Harm turned bright red. "Thanks, Grams," he muttered.

Mac hid a grin behind her hand and followed him into the ground floor room that Grams had prepared. "Sit down before you fall down, Harm," she ordered, pointing towards the wide bed.

Harm shot her a dirty look, but obeyed when his grandmother reinforced the order.

Grams pushed him down on the bed gently, then unbuttoned and pulled off his Class-A Jacket. "Come on, sweetheart. Let's get you comfortable," she said.

"Grams!" Harm protested. "I can undress myself!"

"Go ahead, Harmon," she said with a smile. "I'll go get lunch." Grams walked out, leaving Harm and Mac alone.

"I hate it when she does that," Harm groused. "She knows I hate being called 'baby' and stuff like that."

Mac grinned. "I bet she's doing it on purpose so that you behave."

Harm groaned and finished unbuttoning his shirt. Without being asked, Mac helped him take it off then knelt down to untie his shoe. "Thanks, Mac," he said as he unbuckled his belt.

"Need help to get those over the splints, Harm?" she asked.

He nodded and ducked his hand. "Yeah," he admitted. "I still get dizzy when I bend over that far."

Mac carefully worked his pant leg over his splint and helped him lie down. Wordlessly, she grabbed some throw pillows and propped his leg up before covering him with a blanket. "Better, stickboy?" she asked.

"Thanks, Sarah," he murmured.

Mac climbed in next to him and reached for his hand. "Much more comfortable than the hospital," she said teasingly.

Whatever Harm was about to say was interrupted by a massive yawn. Mac reached over and started stroking his hair. "I hate painkillers," he grumbled. "Damn things make me sleepy."

"You need the sleep, Harm." Mac said softly.

"I'll sleep if you'll stay," he bargained.

Mac kissed him on the cheek. "I don't have anywhere I'd rather be," she said.

Harm sighed and inched closer to her. "Good," he said, his eyes starting to close from the medication kicking in. "Want you here to hold me."

Mac lay down beside him and threw her arm across his chest. "For as long as you want me to, squid."

She watched as Harm's eyes closed and he fell asleep. She leaned over and kissed him again. With both herself and Grandma Sarah, she was sure that they could get Harm back to a semblance of his old self in no time.

1603 Zulu
10 February 2004
Roberts' House
Falls Church, Virginia

Little AJ clapped pillows to his ears as the baby started screaming... again. Uncle Admiral AJ had given his daddy the day off, and predictably, he was spending it with the baby. He grimaced in disgust. Babies were icky. All they ever did was eat, poop, and cry, but grown-ups still thought that babies were wonderful. He didn't see what they were good for.

"Shut up, baby," he yelled, throwing his pillows on the floor. Little AJ marched out of his room and headed over to the baby's room. His daddy was asleep in the chair next to the baby's bed, and Jimmy was screaming as usual. "Why can't you be good?" he asked.

Little AJ dragged over a step-stool, climbed on it, and picked Jimmy up. "Stop crying, baby," he said, clutching Jimmy tightly as he climbed down from the stool.

Jimmy kept screaming and his little face started to turn as red as a tomato.

Little AJ held Jimmy out in front of him and glared at the small face. "Shut up!" He wrapped his arm around the baby and turned him upside down. He didn't want to hurt the dumb baby; the kid was his brother. Bobby had said that his baby sister stopped crying when she got turned upside down when his daddy was playing with her, so maybe it would make Jimmy stop.

"You're a dumb baby, and you need to stop crying. You're noisy and I don't like you much." Little AJ turned his brother right side up.

Jimmy stuffed his tiny fist into his mouth and hiccupped. He regarded Little AJ for a moment, then started howling again. At the sound of Jimmy beginning his wailing anew, Bud woke up. He grabbed the baby from Little AJ and held him tight. "AJ! You know better than to try and pick him up by yourself; he could have gotten hurt!" Bud scolded.

"Dumb baby," Little AJ said. "He never stops crying. I hate him."

"AJ! That's enough. Go to your room, and we'll talk about this later." Bud freed one hand and shooed the child out of the room.

"They don't love me," Little AJ stuck his lip out in a pout. "They just love Jimmy." He shuffled down the hall and went into his room. "Maybe if I went away, then they'd love me again."

Little AJ bit his bottom lip and reminded himself that big boys didn't cry. Grandpa Roberts said so. He went over to his closet and pulled out the suitcase he used to visit Grandma and Grandpa Sims. He opened it and stuck some clothes and the toy F-14 that his Uncle Harm had given him inside.

"Uncle Harm and Aunt Mac love me," he said softly. "I can go find them in Penn-pennsylvania." He pulled on his jacket, zipped up the small suitcase, picked it up, and sneaked out of his room. Carefully, he looked around and left the house. Outside were adventure and a journey to people who loved him. He was sure that Uncle Harm's farm couldn't be too far away. After all, Aunt Mac had been going to drive them there.

And if she could drive them there, then he could surely walk and find them. Little AJ started down the block in the direction that his mom usually used to drive to work. Eventually, he'd find it. Besides, there was a creek down this way. Maybe he wouldn't go to Penn-pennslyvania after all. Maybe he'd just go live at the creek.

A smile passed over his face. There were frogs in the creek. Frogs and some minnows. A boy could have a lot of fun playing there. Especially when there wasn't anybody at home to yell when he messed up his clothes.

Little AJ sped up and hurried to the creek. He'd stay there until he figured out which direction the farm was. After a few minutes of hard walking, he reached the creek. He grinned as he sat down and pulled off his shoes and socks. He shivered briefly as his feet hit the cold, slippery mud and laughed when it squished between his toes.

Little AJ picked up his stuff, got into the creek and waded across. The water was freezing, but he figured that it would warm up soon. There were woods on the other side to hide in, and he was sure that they'd never find him. As far as he was concerned, that was good, because he never wanted to see that stupid baby again.