Title: His Destiny
Author: Ali Cherry
Summary: Takes place after Good-byes. This was written after goodbyes and slightly edited after the season premiere. Assumes that Harm finds trouble on the Patrick Henry as he so often did in JAG.
Disclaimer: I don't own, I'm not that good. May every one be returned their rightful place. That means the good Seaman gets return to me at night! <G>


His Destiny


I looked up to the Lieutenant Commander sitting on the med bed in front of me. Clad in jogging shorts and a tank top, he didn't look that special, but hell, there were four fly boys and his Rio down the hall in the waiting room and a stack of messages concerning the Commander's status at the nurse's station. What did I, a lowly seaman, know?

I knew this Commander Rabb was fortunate. He got away pretty lucky. A broken arm, just above the wrist, I'd bet money on surgery to pin it properly. And a head wound that could have been fatal just a half an inch to the right. As it was he had a pretty bad concussion, which meant if I was right, surgery would have to wait.

His voice as he answered my questions was calm, unshakable which was hardly surprising considering he was a fighter pilot. Most medical people claim they're the worst. They are either are out to prove they're macho, or they' re too stubborn to admit that it hurts. The pilots never tell you where it hurts, never take their medication, and bitch until you let them out. I've heard that only one other group is worse, the SEALS. Thank god, I haven't had to treat any of them. When the medical unit sits around at the O club swapping horror stories, the people that have worked at Rosy Roads have the best.

I looked up into the Commander's eyes to gauge his pain. They stared back at me intensely; honest eyes that had a hell of a lot of pain in them. I felt bad because I didn't have the authority to dispense some pain medication to make it all better. I finished putting on the temporary cast and looked up to him again. The man was tall and that showed even when he was sitting down.

"I'm all done here Commander, the Doc will be with you shortly, duty prescriptions and all. Do you want me to update your friends?"

"What?"

"Your friends down the hall, Five Lt's, sir, from the Patrick Henry."

"Yeah, sure. Could you send them in?"

"Will do, Commander." I headed out of the room, going down the hall. As I came near the pilots, I saw a smallish figure approach them. Even in jeans and a soft sweater, her bearing screamed military training. I could hear her soft, even voice talking to them as I slowed my pace.

"Where's Harm?" The pilots looked at her skeptically, except for the Commander's Rio. She smiled like she knew a secret.

"I'm Major Sarah Mackenzie, the Commander's former partner and if you Squids don't get your heads out of your sixes, I'm going to pull them out and replace them with my foot. Is that understood?" Her voice had grown in intensity with every word and in this case, I could see her as the tough-talking marine she obviously was. I wondered for a second if she was a DI. Nah, I thought to myself, DIs never remove their uniforms.

"Its nice to meet you again Ma'am." It's the first words out of Commander Rabb's Rio since they pulled in.

"Lt." The major struggled with the Rio's name. "Hawks."

"Skates, Ma'am. The Commander will be fine. He was cracking jokes all the way here." She and the Major shared a slight smile and then they turn on me.

"Excuse me, ma'ams, sirs?" The pilots stood up. "The Commander said to send you in."

"How is he?" The marine major seemed to have taken position as leader of the pack.

"The Doctor hasn't come back yet, but he's really lucky. Broken arm. Probably have to be pinned. A big concussion, and a head wound that came close to being fatal." I gauged their reactions. The Major was calm, collected; god, what did she do that she could handle that list of injuries without a flinch. Even the flyboys were looking a bit sad. Then again, for a pilot, a broken arm could be a very bad thing. The Commander's career at the stick was probably over.

"What room is he in?" Again from the Major.

"Room 113."

"Thanks." She strode off towards the room, every step sure and confident. The pilots remained behind. She stopped. "Aren't you Sailors coming with me?"

"Nah, Mac, isn't it? Tell Harm we went back to the Henry for the night. And that we want to be court-martialed now." The Major rolled her eyes at that comment. And turned back to getting to the Commander.

Walking away slowly, I heard the comments, "God, that was Mac? No wonder Harm never let us meet her, there's no way we'd believe him. Skates, you should have told us that Mac was such a looker."

"Just friends, my ass!" I smiled as I walked back to the station to get another file and headed back to the Commander's room. What I saw through the window in the door made me grin. If the pilots could see them now.

The Major was embracing a tired and shaking Commander to her. He held his newly casted arm away from her, but his face was buried in the hollow of her shoulder. The scene was very intimate. And somewhat refreshing. I'm used to seeing slaps on the backs or stilted expressions of sadness. Never total unconditional support, emotional and physical.

"Is there a problem Seaman?" I jumped slightly at Robert's words. I stepped back from my peeking place and handed him the file and x-rays.

"A Lieutenant Commander Harmon Rabb, sir. Brought in from the USS Patrick Henry Currently in port. A fellow officer accosted the Commander. It was an apparent attempted murder sir."

"Thank you Seaman. Will you please alert the Jag officials?"

"Yes sir." I walked slowly away, noticing Robert's hesitation at the door, his small smile. I wondered what he thought of the lovely Major and the quiet Commander. I expected that the couple would be up for discussion over dinner that night. Speculation abounded as I picked up the phone.

"May I please be connected to the Judge Advocate General's office? Yes I'll hold."


"Excuse me."

"I'll be with you in just a second, sir." I didn't have to look up from the computer screen, to know that the man was a high-ranking officer. The deep bass of the voice coupled with the steel that was infused with the tone meant he was used to giving orders and having them obeyed at once. I looked up then to find a broad shouldered admiral with a Seal insignia on his coat and Jag insignias on his shoulder boards. "Are you here to see Commander Rabb, sir?"

"Yes."

"Sir, I realize that JAG needs to get information from the Commander but sir, I don't think he's ready to talk about it. He was pretty badly hurt."

"Seaman, Just give me his damn room number!" Oh, there was the Seal training.

"113, sir."

"Thank you son." The Admiral started to turn away and then turned back to me. "Do you know how the Commander was hurt?"

"I believe he was attacked by a fellow officer, who was trying to kill him. I heard the Commander walked into a drug ring. Criminal activity. I'm sure the Commander could give you the details." A grunt as a response, that was just great.

I followed the Admiral to Rabb's room. I justified the action with the need to take the Commander's vitals. I really didn't want to see what was happening between the lovely Major and the Commander. Not really. All right, who was I kidding? I'm a voyeur.

When the Admiral and I entered the room, no one was surprised. The Commander was lying on the bed, covered with the blanket. His cast lay on his chest, while the other arm was secured tightly around the Major's waist. He was dead to the world.

While I tried to remove the Commander's arm from the Major's waist without getting fresh with the lady, or waking the Commander, the Admiral began his cross-examination of the Major.

"Major, how is he?" Funny opening line for the JAG officer to ask.

"Admiral, he's alright. His head is hurting a bit and his arm's going to need surgery. The Doctor thinks that Harm could be grounded from Tomcats permanently. At best he won't be able to fly for a year with all the physical therapy."

I interjected my two cents in at this point. "That's a minimum time frame. When it's over though, the Commander won't be fit for combat flight status for another year. Too much risk." I looked back down to the blood pressure monitor, hoping to avoid a tongue-lashing.

"Dammit." The Admiral sighed with force. "I suppose you think I should just bring him back?"

"He's one of the best Admiral."

"I know that. But."

"He left." The Admiral's eyes bore into Major MacKenzie's face. "He's the best you could ask for, sir."

"No, if he was the best I could ask for, he wouldn't have left." Another loud violent sigh. "This is all moot point, we don't know what he wants to do. Keep me informed."

"Yes sir." The Admiral left quietly, the door swishing shut behind him.

"Ma'am?"

"Yes Seaman?"

"He was a JAG lawyer, ma'am?"

"Yes."

"Why did he retread?"

"To see if his father's destiny was his as well." Well, wasn't that a cryptic answer.

"Are you staying ma'am?"

"Yes." She sighed quietly. "Seaman?"

"Yes ma'am?"

"Why was I called?"

"On the Commander's record, he put you as first emergency contact and a Lt. Bud Roberts and Lt. jg Simms as the second contacts."

"Thanks." I got a blanket out of the closet in the room, handed it to the Major and headed out. That was the last time I saw the Commander and the Major. I wish I knew what happened. Robert told me the Commander had surgery and was released. That was the last I ever heard of Commander Harmon Rabb Jr. I hope he found his destiny.