Something For The Pain

by Radiorox

Days before New Years Eve, Harm is lost and presumed dead leaving Mac to deal with her emotions. But, is he really gone or did something more sinister occur?

8. The Needle Keeps Calling Me Back

Thanks to: XBlueShadowX, Aimee5, Charmboy4, starryeyes10, Nikki, dansingwolf, jag4ever, lei, Jackia, EternalSleep, Cristina, Tina Frank, achaon, Abigaile, Hieros Gamos, froggy0319, joanoa, JadeAlmasy, SpaceMan546, dansingwolf, carbygirl , JAGJenni, Manda, starryeyes, BiteBeccy, ng59678, LtColDevilDog, martini, mizukimarr, jtbwriter, Macaroon, Lissie, n.k, Lt.jgMegAustin, cbw, dansingwolf, Apion and anyone else I missed for the Feedback..

PART 8 – The Needle Keeps Calling Me Back

(Title is, once again, an excerpt from Queensryche's "The Needle Lies")

July 4, 2005
2300 Zulu
Mac's Apartment
Georgetown

The shakes had started again in the evening, accompanied by sweating and a pain that only one thing could take away. Frantically, he sat up in bed, noting that the spot next to him was empty. His senses were on fire, each trying to work as a team and figure out where she'd gone. A second later, he heard the sound of the shower running. It was a Godsend; a moment alone. Harm threw himself off of the bed, ignoring the screaming muscles as he opened the bottom door of the nightstand. From underneath he pulled out the vial and needle.

"Harm? Are you okay?" He heard Mac call from the bathroom. Obviously his senses were not as up to par as they should have been. She must have heard him fall off the bed.

Harm glanced towards the bathroom door, which was a jar and then placed his attention to his shaking hands and the needle. "Yea, yea. . . just dropped something." He stuck the needle into the vial, took note of how much liquid was being sucked in and then tried to find a tourniquet.

"I'll be out in a minute." She said, and he heard the water stop altogether.

Harm reached for a belt of Mac's and tied it around his arm, using his teeth to tighten the band. "C'mon. C'mon. C'mon." He chanted, willing his vein to come to attention. Once it did, he flicked the bubbles out of the needle. His hand was shaking so badly that it took an unbelievable amount of force to turn the needle around, angling it towards the correct vein. "Steady. . . steady. No!" He cursed as it fell out of his hand and to the carpeted floor. Frantically, he reached for it, going through the daunting task of angling it again with his vein. "Please!" He yelled out loud, looking up to the heavens for some sort of help in his task.

Mac chose this moment to walk out of the bathroom. Her eyes fixed on the figure seated on the floor next to her bed, with a syringe in his hand. "What are you doing?!"

Harm's eyes opened and fluttered, exposing the tears he was trying to fight back. They fell now, rushed down his cheeks as he looked up at Mac. There was remorse in his eyes and that awful look of shame. "I'm so sorry." He blubbered out as the needle sank into his vein. He laid his head back, allowing the sensation to ripple thought his body, calming his nightmares and pains.

He seemed to have passed out, if not from whatever he'd injected himself with, then from the force that it took him to fight off using the drug. Mac came to his side in a flash, tears falling from her own eyes as she carefully removed the syringe and make-shift tourniquet. "Oh God. . . what have you done to yourself?" She searched for a pulse, grateful to find it beating hard and steady. Mac wrapped her arms around him, rocking back and forth until she could cry no more.

His body was still unconscious as her eyes searched his arms, finding each and every prick, noticing fresher ones. Grabbing the vial, she read the label. The medical name she knew too well, as it had been used in a case she and Harm and worked on the year before. "Morphine?" But, why would Harm have it?

0039 Zulu
Alexandria, Virginia

"C'mon Webb, do something!" Major Christopher Steele yelled as he sat in his car waiting. He'd spent the better part of the day staking out Webb's place, hoping for him to make some sort of move, but it never happened. "Okay, that's it!" He jumped out of the car, carrying a small bag and cautiously crossed the street. Taking a peek through the gates of the parking garage, he saw Clay's black Jaguar in its proper space.

Chris wasn't in uniform, only in jeans and a button down shirt. He wore an Orioles cap, kept down low. A five o'clock shadow added to his attempt to look as far away from a military officer as he could. He headed up the steps to the third floor, then slowly down the hall, searching the numbers on the doors until he found Clay's apartment. He knocked once and waited patiently, but no one opened the door. After checking for prying eyes, he took out a small lock picking case and went to work.

The soft, long beep of the alarm system welcomed him. With an irritated sigh, he grabbed a flat head screwdriver and removed the face plate of the alarm keypad. It took him only a few seconds more to set up a patented CIA gadget to make the alarm believe the security code had been entered. Chris walked slowly into the area, taking in the impeccable apartment. On top of the coffee table he found a sealed bottle of Flor De Cana, along with several pictures of Clay and Mac. "Can't believe she dated a sap like you. She's so much better than that."

After placing them back on the table, he headed further into the apartment, searching out Clay's bedroom. The place was typical of a person that devoted so much time to the Agency. It was almost like a museum, kept immaculate and almost un-personable. Agents didn't really have much of a personality of their own. They were made and manufactured by the company.

There was a small desk in the bedroom on which a laptop sat with it's top open. He booted it up, used his abilities in technology to bypass the password and settled into recent documents. One of them, in particular, caught his eye. It was a journal that Webb was keeping on the laptop. Chris read an entry out loud. "January 14th, 2005. Things have been, interesting and they have just gotten even more interesting. I believed I was needed as a head on the current mission I was getting intel on. But, what I was asked to do surprised me. I had been keeping tabs on Sarah, always hoping that, with Rabb gone, she'd come to me. It hasn't happened yet, but, if what they say is true, then she is in danger and I'll be damned if he hurts her again. . ."

January 14, 2005
CIA Headquarters
Langley, Virginia

Clayton Webb was ushered into one of the plush offices in CIA headquarters believing to be discussing the details of the latest mission with Deputy Director Harrison Kershaw. He was dead wrong. Surprised by the man sitting behind the desk, Webb walked in timidly. Whoever decided to give Raymond Levine any type of power within the agency walls was insane. Raymond used to be the top trainer in the agency, the go to guy to create elite killing machines. He was the guy that taught Webb so much, but maybe not enough. "Hello Ray, fancy meeting you here."

"Clayton." Raymond smiled and pointed to a chair in front of his desk. "Always a pleasure."

"I thought I'd be speaking to Kershaw about a mission."

Raymond shook his head. "No, this was my baby, not Kershaw's." Just like before, when he used to train agents, he didn't believe in beating around the bush. There were a few key reasons why he needed Clay, pleasantries could be discussed in another venue. "I am referring to the Aurora disasters."

Clay sighed. Losing a plane was one thing, but losing both and not being exactly sure what to blame it on, was an entirely different aspect. "We had people trying to fix that mess, but it's difficult when it looks like. . ."

"I understand you were friends with Commander Rabb?" Raymond interrupted, waving off any attempt at Clay's sorry explanation.

"Were being the operative word. . . Don't you think I've received my fair share of ass chewing over this?"

"Ass Chewing?" Raymond chuckled, he wasn't planning an ass chewing. He needed someone on the inside. "Clay, I just want to know a few things."

Webb sat there, slightly unsure at what was going on. After Paraguay and Tanveer, the agency had been giving him the crappiest gigs available. He was so sure that after the incidents with the Aurora's, they would kick him to the curb. "Okaaay." He drew out.

"If Commander Rabb survived." Raymond said slowly, putting great emphasis on the word 'if.' He almost sounded sure that Harm was alive.

Webb's hands came up in interruption. That was the most absurd thing anyone could think of considering what the "facts" on the mission had shown. "That is impossible. . . actually, it's implausible. Both planes blew up. That's what we saw on the radar aboard the Hawkeye."

Still Raymond had an agenda, a secret that no one knew and he was determined to get things fixed and squared away. "I said if, Clayton. . . IF Commander Rabb survived, who would he go to?"

"Who would he go to?" Clay found the question to be awfully weird considering they were talking about a dead man.

"Yes, let's say he was. . .being hunted."

He couldn't even stop himself before the words flew out of his mouth. "That's easy, Sarah MacKenzie." Clay said bitterly, always jealous over whatever special bond Harm and Mac had. A bond, he was sure, brought an end to the possibilities of him and Sarah.

Raymond caught the underlying tone and the spark of jealousy in Webb's eyes. This was good and exactly what he wanted. "You and the Colonel had something, yes?"

"I thought we had more than something. And you know very well what we had." He was bitter about that too, how those that used to respect him now laughed instead. Clay had become the screw up, the one that let feelings for a woman strip his better judgment. But, Mac wasn't just any woman. She was strong, tough, a Marine, everything he needed from a woman. That was until that dreadful day at Manderlee when, for the first time ever, she truly opened up to him. Mac had looked at him in disgust that day and all he could do was hate Rabb because he's who she chose to go home with that day. Damn him! Damn them! "Anyway, it's over and it has been for a long time. After Rabb's disappearance, she wants even less to do with me."

"Well, too bad because I have a job for you to do." Raymond grinned, his face taking on a slightly malicious look. "You are going to watch Colonel MacKenzie."

Okay, now Clay was confused. "Watch her? Why?"

This was the tricky part; how to give away enough information without blowing open the whole thing. "We aren't so sure that Commander Rabb is dead. . ." Raymond smirked as Webb's jaw dropped, it was clear that the super spy had lost a lot of his goods during the last few years. Good, it would be easier to play him that way. "This is difficult to say, him being your former friend and all, but, intel suggests that Commander Rabb may be alive and well." It was the truth, except that instead of being alive and well, Raymond knew what they were doing to Harm. All of this with Clay and Mac, was a precaution, in case a man, as determined as Harmon Rabb, would escape capture.

Webb closed his mouth, unsure as to whether he should be happy or not. In theory, Rabb was a friend once, they'd helped each other out. Still, he was now a rival, one that had the affections of the woman he loved. "But, we aren't going in after him, that would be against SOP." Now, he was sure that it was better of Harm was never found at all as the words bitterly came out of his mouth. "We can't endanger our own to find him."

"Actually, we might have to do just that, Clay." With a fake, disgusted sigh, Raymond stared down and shook his head. "We believe he has gone to the other side, that he has been bought."

Clay couldn't help but laugh. Of all of the crazy stories this one was just preposterous. "Someone buying Harm? Like him being a double agent?" The idea just sounded funnier and funnier. "You've gotta be kidding me. He's a boy scout, he would never. . ."

"Never say never, Mr. Webb. . ." Raymond said sternly, meeting Clay's gaze with a look that would kill. "Good men have turned before. You know that damned well."

"I know." Webb knew it was true. How many had been trusted and then betrayed their country? For money? "I'll watch her." . . .

0050 Zulu
Clayton Webb's Condo
Alexandria, Virginia

Chris chuckled as the passed through Clay's entries. Every single one had a mention of Mac and what she'd been doing that day. "Boy, you are one sick puppy, Webbie." He shook his head, slightly disgusted. "Okay. . . let's see here." He scrolled through the folders, finding two final entries, one dated about two months prior. "May 1st, 2005. I've been up and down with, what I chose to call, the Case of the Missing Rabb. One minute, I remember how he was, how he'd never go to the other side. But, the intel states otherwise and today I was blown out of the water. . ."

May 1st, 2005

Raymond Levine's Home

Alexandria, Virginia

Clay walked through the mansion, not fazed whatsoever by it's grandeur. His family estate, was much more luxurious and definitely older. Levine, as far as he remembered, was a nobody. Oh, his family had money, but he was always considered the runt of the litter, the bad boy until he was forced into the agency. "Nice digs, Ray. . .I don't remember you owning a multimillion dollar estate when you were training me."

Raymond led Clay into the study and got them both a glass of cognac. "It was my sister's. She and her husband passed away quite some time ago. They left it and their monies to me."

"Some sister, I can barely get mine to visit when it's my birthday." He responded sarcastically, timidly running his fingers around the brim of the glass. "What was so important that you needed me to head over here, on my first Saturday off in months."

"It's about Rabb." Nearly choking on his cognac as Webb paled, Raymond, rose out of his chair and moved towards a desk, picking up a file folder with the words 'CLASSIFED DOCUMENTS' inked across. He tossed the thick folder at Webb then came back to his seat. "A farmer in Canada found Andy Watson's body along with Rabb's service pistol. His prints were all over it and Watson was severely tortured."

Webb cringed at the grizzly image of the former Andy Watson. His body was slightly decomposed and whatever was left, had marks of unknown origin. It was pretty easy to deduce what Raymond was suggesting and Webb couldn't deny it anymore. "So that son of a bitch is alive. . .Any idea what his intentions are?"

Raymond shook his head. "No, but we have to stop him if he gets to Washington. God knows what he will do.". . .

July 5, 2005
0102 Zulu
Clayton Webb's Condo
Alexandria, Virginia

. . .There was one more entry, the last of all of them ending two days ago. "July 3, 2005. I visited Sarah today as it was her birthday. What I found made me sick to my stomach. But I guess, everyone deserves the benefit of the doubt. I can't believe that she would . . . Would what?" Chris yelled, hitting the cursor, hoping to bring up another part of the entry but it was all gone. Quickly, he searched through the computer for a backup, a hidden file, anything, but there was none. There was nothing at all. "Damnit, is Rabb at her place or not?" The notion of tapping Mac's apartment passed fleetingly through his head. Raymond Levine would kill him if that happened. The Agency wasn't allowed to tap military personnel and Mac wasn't just any military officer, she was pretty well known within the agency's walls. "Guess I'll just have to go to her." He said with a satisfied smirk.

As she began packing up his equipment, he heard a noise in the front of the house, someone had walked in. Cursing inwardly, Chris hurried towards the window and noted the fire escape that was just a ledge away. He grabbed his bag, slung it over his shoulders and carefully climbed out onto the ledge. "Oh how I hate heights." He said with a hiss as his body flattened itself close to the wall.

There was laughter coming from inside; male and female laughter. "You know, this is the first date I've gone on in ages." He heard Clay's slurred voice say. The woman just laughed and murmured something incomprehensible. "Let's move this to my bedroom."

Once Clay walked in and turned on the lights he noticed the curtains flapping out of the window. Peeling himself from his female companion, he headed over. "I never leave anything open when I leave."

The woman, a blond haired, dark eyed agent smiled at him. "Well, it happens."

Clay shook his head. "I have central air, why would I open a window?" He pulled back the curtain and looked out to find a man heading down the fire escape. "Hey you!" The man looked up, but was unrecognizable with the baseball cap covering most of his face. "Hey! Stop!" After grabbing the pistol he kept in the nightstand, Clay rushed passed his 'friend' and headed down the stairs and onto the street, needing to jump back onto the curb as a black Escalade threatened to run him over. "Damnit!"

0250 Zulu
Mac's Apartment
Georgetown

Mac hadn't been able to sleep a wink, not that she would've wanted to anyway in fear that Harm would do something else to himself. As she watched him sleeping, she couldn't help but fill overcome with emotions. That was when reality hit; this was all too much for her. This wasn't something that they could handle together, as they'd handled so many things in the past. Butch and Sundance needed outside help and fast. Mac walked out of the room, leaving the door ajar in case Harm needed something. She placed the needle and vial on the coffee table, figuring she'd need it in order to find out if that was what he was using. And that's when the tears started.

She barely noticed them at first, but then they blurred her vision and the only thing she could see clearly was the bottle of vodka. A sob came from deep within, one that she hadn't even noticed she'd been suppressing. Then came another and another, each a remnant of the amount of pain she was in. Without another thought, she grabbed the bottle and the glass she always had nearby. The tears still rolled down her cheeks as she poured the white liquid into the glass. There were a million things in her head. A million reasons why she shouldn't do it. But, all of those reasons when to hell as she raised the glass to her lips.
------

The ending is NOT as bad as you think, I promise. :)

Apion – I know!! Talk about major drooling here!

NK – There are some shipperish moments, but not overly shipperish because Harm needs to get well and things need to get solved. Story two will be more up your alley though. :)

Charmboy – You got your answer! ;) They'll help eachother out I promise

Nikki – I am mean, so each chapter tends to be meaner than the other. Dunno, I just have an idea, let it roll around in my head for a few days, thinking if people would kill me or not, if the answer is yes, I post away. :)

Cristina – Webb and Chris will have some things to deal with. ;)

Martini – Depends on yoru idea of good and please don't die!

JTB – Harm will come back, just not as strong as he is, cos there is a lot he has to deal with. They really did a number on him, more than you can imagine.

Carby – Mac is going to be surprised by Steele, he has a few ideas up his sleeves.

Froggy – Sheesh! The drool got OVER HERE!! Now wipe that off!! Damnit!! Ewww!! ;) Yea, Harm in tub. . .(swoon)