Character death in this chapter.

Chapter 24:
Missing the Mark

"Maybe there's a God above
And all I ever learned from love
Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you
And it's not a cry you can hear at night
It's not somebody who's seen the light
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah"

--Rufus Wainwright "Broken Hallelujah"

2145 Zulu
15 February 2004
Rabb Farm
Beallsville, Pennsylvania

Grandma Sarah sat down in her squashy armchair and watched her grandson play his guitar. He'd been ignoring her and Mac for three days and he'd only spoken when one of them asked him a direct question. Physically, he was better; his cuts had almost healed and his bones were knitting nicely. Conversely, his nightmares had gotten worse until he was barely sleeping.

"Harm," she murmured, "please play something a little more cheerful, sweetie?"

Harm looked at her, glared, shook his head and turned his attention back towards his guitar.

Grandma Sarah sighed, closed her eyes, and leaned back against the back of the armchair. She knew that she couldn't stop him, and the honey-darling-sweetheart routine wasn't working, either. "Harm," she tried again. "Won't you talk to me? You were like this after your ramp strike and after you got back from Vietnam, and you know it'll help if you talk, Harmon."

"I don't want to, Grandma," he said gruffly. "If I talk, it'll be real." Harm strummed the guitar lightly. "And if Sarah knows, she'll leave just like everybody else."

Mac walked into the room, drying her wet hands on a dishtowel. "If I know what, Harm?" she asked quietly.

Grandma Sarah, sensing a fight brewing, stood up and headed towards the kitchen. "I'll just be out back… gathering eggs if you two need me," she called.

"If I know what, Harm?" Mac repeated.

Harm shook his head, clutched the guitar closer to his torso, and strummed a chord.

Mac laid her hand on his to stop motion. "I've been being patient, Harmon, and you haven't told me a damn thing. You're using that guitar as a shield, and it's about time you said something."

Harm put the guitar down on the couch beside him, grabbed his crutches, stood up and moved away from her. "What do you want me to say, Sarah?" he asked harshly. "If I remember correctly, you already know what happened to me, because you were questioning me when I was still drugged."

"You can't escape that easily, Harmon Rabb." Mac put her hands on her hips and glared at him. "Get your ass over here and sit down, sailor. It's obvious that I've been being nice for way too long."

Harm scowled and didn't make an effort to move. "If you feel that way, Sarah, get the hell out of here and leave me alone!"

Mac crossed her arms over her chest. "Get your ass in the chair or I'll throw it in, now," she scowled and used her best DI voice.

Grudgingly, Harm stumped over and lowered himself into the armchair. "You're only here because you feel sorry for me," he said with a frown. "You're gonna leave anyway, so you might as well do it now."

"What makes you think that?" Mac asked as she strode over and threw herself on the chair next to his.

"Everybody leaves when they find out how screwed up I am," he said finally.

"I promised I wouldn't. Remember, Harmon? Why have you suddenly decided that my word is no good?" Mac arched an eyebrow and glared at him again as he attempted to get up. She stood, took his crutches and put them out of his reach before resuming her seat.

Harm made a fist and slammed it down on the arm of the chair. "I don't want to talk about it, damnit! Especially not with you."

"Talk, Harmlet," she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest. "I want to know why you're shutting me out. I sleep in the same bed, remember? I know that you're not sleeping, and I know about your nightmares. Spill it, sailor."

"Why did you say never, Sarah?" he asked quietly. "Our five year deal was almost up, and then I would've asked you for forever."

Mac took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "I didn't mean it, Harm. I was a wreck in Paraguay, and it took a good friend of ours to point out how much I hurt you." She opened her eyed and looked at him. "I'm sorry, now please get your head out of your six and tell me what the hell is wrong? Why do you think that I'd break a promise to you?"

"Because promises never matter," he mumbled. "Everybody leaves. My father left. My mom left. Diane left. Renee, Annie, and Jordan left. They all promised that they wouldn't, but they did, anyway." Harm turned away. "You've left before, too. You left with Mic, and then with Webb."

"And you left to fly," Mac countered. "We've both left, Harm. And we've both come back. This time, you're stuck with me for good, flyboy. I'm not leaving and if you don't like it, tough."

Harm was silent for a few minutes as he traced a pattern on the fabric of the chair with one finger. "Okay," he said finally. "I'm sorry."

Mac got up, walked over, and gave him a hug. "I'm here, Harm. I'm not leaving you. In fact, if I have it my way, I'll be dragging you down the aisle as soon as you're better."

Harm didn't answer. Instead, he pulled her into his lap and hugged her tightly. For the first time in days, he felt safe again. He felt whole.

"I'm taking you back to the counselor," Mac murmured.

Harm simply nodded. He didn't like going to see a shrink, but he guessed that he'd have to if he wanted to keep his Sarah. He smiled at her as she leaned down to kiss him. As her lips brushed his, he closed his eyes and thought that he'd finally found heaven.

1500 Zulu
15 February 2004
Porter Webb's House
Great Falls, Virginia

Webb lounged in the deckchair next to his mother's indoor pool and sulked. He'd found out through his contacts that Jack and Beth were being sent to round up the rest of Sadik's thugs, and he was stuck behind a desk. Kershaw had even informed him that he was being taken off field op status permanently.

Webb sighed, picked up the half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels beside him and took a healthy swig. The whiskey burned as it went down his throat and warmed his stomach for a few minutes. Sure, he knew that drinking himself senseless wasn't a real solution, but it was better than the cold, empty feeling he'd had ever since being handed over to Jack for more training.

He tipped back the bottle and drank more as he thought about the reason he'd been retrained in the first place. Sarah and Rabb. It was their fault. He should've taken a trained operative along to Paraguay instead of the beautiful Marine. Instead, he'd let his hormones pick, and he'd ended up all but thrown out on his ass. He stared moodily into the pool and then drank another swallow.

If Harm hadn't come after them, everything still would've worked out. Maybe without Harmon "Superman" Rabb around, Sarah would have married him. Webb sneered elegantly at the bottle, took a slug, and wished that Harm hadn't survived his little adventure in Colombia. Without that boy scout around, he would've had a chance.

Maybe Sarah would be kish-kishng him instead of that pilot of hers. Maybe if that sap hadn't come after them, he wouldn't be flyn' a desk. Webb upended the bottle and drank the last of the whisky. It had gone faster than it should have. He reached out and picked up another bottle with an unsteady hand.

Webb unscrewed the top and cursed as some of his precious elixir splashed on his bare chest. It was only is thid bottle, damnit. So what if he hadn't bothered to eat and he'd been drinking the day before, too? He grumbled under his breath as he wiped ineffectually at the spilled liquor on his torso.

Webb gave up momentarily in favor of putting the bottle neck to his lips and taking a long pull. He came up for air and smiled as he noticed that it was still three-fourths full. He drank from it again before he set it on the table next to him--or tried to. He missed the table and dropped the bottle instead. It broke on the rough cement surface, sending glass shards and whiskey all over.

"Damn," he muttered as he pushed himself unsteadily out of the chair. "It was my last bottle." He shrugged fatalistically. He could always get his mother's butler to get him more. He glanced down at himself and wrinkled his nose in disgust. He had to get the smell of whiskey off his skin.

Webb smiled as he saw the pool. Perfect. Now if only the room would stop moving, he could make it over there. He swayed on his feet and wobbled and weaved his way over to the edge of the pool. He jumped in quickly, not noticing that he was standing next to the shallow end of the pool.

Webb hit the water with a monumental splash, which was a far cry from his usual neat entry. He lost track of where he was in the water and cracked his head on the bottom, knocking himself unconscious. With a quiet ripple, he bobbed to the surface, his face down in the water and blood streaming from a lump on his temple.

Unfortunately, his mother was out of town, so he wasn't found until the poolman came to clean out the pool the next day. At least he'd died in country so that they had a body to bury.

2000 Zulu
15 February 2004
International Criminal Court
The Hague, Netherlands

Sturgis shifted slightly in his chair. It had been a long few weeks, and the court battle hadn't been easy. Especially with Captain Krennick as lead council. Sure, she was a good lawyer, but he'd heard rumors about what she'd tried to do to Harm. Who hadn't? It wasn't exactly like she'd been discreet about the way she'd propositioned his old friend.

The Navy could be like a small town sometimes, and with situations like the one she'd created for Harm, word spread. All of the guys knew to keep their distance and lie low when she was around. That is, unless they wanted what she was offering; a one-way ticket out of the service.

He tried to focus on what the head judge was saying, but his recalcitrant mind insisted on ducking out and thinking about the last time he'd seen his friend. It was great that Harm had gotten an early promotion, but Sturgis knew it meant a transfer out of HQ, and Harm hadn't looked like he was in good shape for that.

Sturgis hoped that Mac would be able to help; if anybody deserved happiness, those two did. He yanked his mind back to the task at hand as the judge uttered the words they'd been both waiting for and dreading. "Will the defendant stand please?"

The four of them stood up and awaited the verdict.

"This court finds the Secretary of the Navy of the United States not guilty of all charges. However, considerable damage was done to the town, and the hospital was destroyed. This court finds that reparations in the amount of six million dollars must be paid to the town of Tikifa to rebuild their hospital and recompense them for the civilian deaths. This court is dismissed." The head judge banged his gavel on the desk.

"Thank you, Captain Krennick, Commander Turner, and Major Pierce. I see my faith in the three of you was justified." Sheffield smiled and held out his hand to each of them in turn to shake.

"Just doing our duty, sir," Sturgis said, not sure if he wanted to shake the man's hand. There was something oily about the SecNav that rubbed him the wrong way. At least they'd survived the case, and tomorrow, he and Major Pierce would be on their way back home.

He looked over at the major and smiled slightly. She seemed to be in awe of their client; if she stayed in JAG, he had a feeling that she'd get over it quickly. Sturgis felt a headache building, so he pinched the bridge of his nose before he picked up his cover and his briefcase.

"Pleasure working with you, Captain," he said pleasantly and gave the blonde-haired woman a nod.

"Likewise. How's Commander Rabb doing these days, anyway? Is he married yet?" she asked with a lecherous smile.

"He's fine, ma'am. After he recovers from some injuries, he'll be getting his own command," Sturgis offered. "He's also engaged to a Marine."

Krennick picked up her purse, cover, and briefcase before answering. "I didn't think Marines were his type," she said. "His loss." She smiled at Sturgis before turning and walking out the door.

Sturgis let out the breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding and turned to Major Pierce. "Let's get the hell out of here and get home, Major."

"Aye sir," she said respectfully and the two of them left.

I wanted to kill him off earlier. ;)