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2015-07-18
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1/1
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Hurt

Summary:

An additional scene to the episode Critical Condition, in which Bud has lost his leg to a land mine. Complete.

Notes:

I originally wrote this as an episode epilog back in 2002 when Critical Condition first aired. I found it today while going through some old files. Let's see if it holds up. This is my first posting on Ao3, so comments are welcome.

Work Text:

He's been sitting there for at least three hours now, but he was only on his second beer. I knew, because I'd been watching. Of course, that wasn't exactly news to anyone but him. Sitting on that stool at the end of the bar was, without a doubt, the sexiest man to ever walk into The Hilltop Lounge, the rundown little bar that my daddy had left me fifteen years ago. It wasn't much to look at, but every once in a while something would happen to liven up the usual smoke and spilled beer. Usually, he managed to make my night when he showed up. Not that he ever showed any interest, or even awareness of my interest in him.

He wasn't Tom Selleck handsome, but I wasn't exactly Julia Roberts, so that was fine by me. He was tall, though, and had a certain rugged charm. He carried an air of authority that even the drunks seemed to recognize and he wore it as casually as he did his uniform, as if he'd been born to it. His voice, when he decided to talk, was deep, with a trace of Texas, but that wasn't the most appealing part about him. His eyes. I could write pages about his eyes, and I usually did, in my journal on the nights he's stop by the bar.

Most nights when he came in, he'd smile and talk to me for a little while, longer if I wasn't busy, but tonight something was bothering him. Those deep, dark eyes didn't have their usual spark, and he'd barely spoken to order the beers. He didn't even attempt the smile. Instead he'd just stared into his glass like he was looking for answers to some pretty tough questions.

Checking to see that my only other remaining customers were still engrossed in a game of pool in the corner, I wandered over to see if I could get Mr. Sexy-eyes to talk. I leaned back against the bar-back as I took a position directly in front of him. "AJ? You doing all right, darlin'?"

For the first time all night, he looked at me and I felt my stomach flip, just like it always did when he turned that dark gaze my way. I wondered if the Navy had developed that way he had of looking at you that felt like a laser peering into your soul, and a deep pool of sweet chocolate at the same time. This time there was something else there, though. A hint of sadness, and perhaps loneliness. Finally, he spoke. "If I said yes, would you believe me?"

I shook my head. "Not a chance. But I will leave you alone if you'd like."

I turned to walk back to the other end of the bar, but that drawl stopped me. "No, please. I'm sorry, it's just been a hell of a day."

I settled back against the cooler box, preparing to take on my designated duty as bartender. "You want to talk about it?"

He gave me a lazy half smile that made my stomach do an extra little flip. "No way in hell." He took another sip of his beer. "Tell me your day was good. It would be nice to know someone's was."

I shrugged. "Well, it wasn't bad. Same old, same old. Nothing exciting."

That half smile grew just a little. "Nothing exciting. That would be..."

His attention was drawn to the TV above the bar. Whatever he saw there wiped the smile off his face and tightened his hand around his beer mug. I glanced over my shoulder to see that ZNN reporter, Stuart Something-or-other standing in front of a building. The graphic in the corner of the screen said that he was at JAG headquarters. I grabbed the remote and turned up the volume so that I could hear what he was saying over the noise from the pool table. The report was about a Naval Officer who'd been injured in Afganistan. Apparently there was a investigation to find out why a Navy JAG LT had been in a position to get his leg blown off by a land mine outside a small village.

"AJ?"

There was no response. I turned back toward him and saw a tightening around his eyes and mouth that, along with the now almost white knuckled grip he had on that mug, gave away some deep emotion. "Aren't you with JAG?"

He nodded. "He's one of my officers. I swear, if that damned Dunson doesn't tread lightly around this, I'll skin him myself and hang his hide in my office."

The pain in his voice was palpable.

"It sounds like he's more that just one of your officers." I tried to keep my voice neutral, but my heart was breaking for him, and his officer.

He looked vaguely bewildered as he slightly shook his head. "I don't know how it happened. I was always careful to never get too close to my officers, but this group I have now..."

Tentatively, I covered his free hand with one of mine. "He's become your friend."

He laughed sadly. "It's more than that. He and his wife named their son after me. Hell, I delivered him."

"It sounds like they're almost family."

"They are. And now, he and his wife have to accept the fact that he's lost his leg." AJ shook his head. "Then again, if anyone can handle it, they can. They lost a child last year. I thought for a while that it was going to tear them apart, but, in the end they wound up stronger than ever. I really think they have what it takes to make it through this."

I couldn't imagine a couple going through anything like this young couple was facing, and something inside my chest twisted just a little bit tighter. "They sound like a special couple."

"They are." He looked down at my hand on his as if he was just noticing it. Just as I thought he was going to politely pull away, he turned his hand over and grasped mine firmly. "Thanks, Dottie. Maybe I needed to tell someone about it after all."

That knot in my chest loosened just a bit. "Anytime, AJ, anytime."