WARNING: I must warn you all that this does have a mention of rape and a child resulting from the rape. No details are given, but it is spoke of as happening.
Author's Note: Okay this is another repost of my old stories. This one is a strange one for me, but my muse took me here and I wrote it. I think it turned out quite well in the end. Thank you to Sirenjunkie for helping me make it what it is today. This fic is four chapters long and I will be posting them over the course of the next week.
ENJOY:)
Inspector Margaret Thatcher stared into the hole full of bodies of all ages and genders. Scattered around the perimeter were other people doing the same job as her. Here on the edge of a farmer's field that once grew wheat, was this monument to how evil humans could be to each other. It was strange here, no one talked or laughed, all around them was silence, even the birds didn't sing, as though even mother nature mourned these lost souls.
When she had been assigned to this awful, but needed task, she thought it would get easier, but it didn't. Seeing just how horrible human beings was not something Meg could ever except, to her there had to be hope in the world. Each body she studied and cataloged was a person, who lived and breathed, had a family who loved them and now they were dead and she was alive. Standing there beside that hole she could help but remember that she had no one to love her and that was her choice.
Taking her eyes from the gruesome site, Meg stepped away two paces to gather her strength before choosing another body. This part was the hardest, each one was a person who deserved time and attention, and when she chose, Meg always felt as though she was slighting the others. She wished there was a way to do each one at the same time so everyone would be taken care of, been given back their name.
Turning around she surveyed the camp, behind her were tents set up to move the bodies to once they had been photographed and catalogued. Inside one of the tent autopsies were done and the information was added to the database. This would allow some of these people's family to finally know what happened to them. To be able to close that chapter it their lives, not knowing was always the worst part of a relative's disappearance.
To her left were the vehicles they had arrived in as well has the vans that would take the bodies away once they were cataloged and tagged. It wasn't exactly safe here, but they had a job to do. They had people to bring home.
Bending down to examine the next body, this one a child, a little girl only three or four. Bile climbed the back of her throat, but she stamped it down. How could anyone do that to a child, they were so young, beautiful and innocent. Her child might have been this old if she had said yes to Ben. She could have had his curly hair, his blue eyes and that smile, how she missed that rare upturn of his lips. Squeezing her eyes shut to stop the gathering tears, children were the hardest for her, maybe because she now saw she would never have one of her own. Meg shut out the memories and her emotions, leaving had been her choice. That choice had led her here, and she had a job to do and people to help.
Making the necessary notes on the form, Meg shook her head. Forensics, she thought with a sigh, if Meg had known those night classes at the Chicago university and an associate degree would bring her to this place, she never would have begun.
After leaving CSIS a few months ago she had worked in Kamloops until they called for volunteers to help the Canadian Military. Hating to come home to her lonely apartment she put her name forward and now she was here in Europe using her new skills in identifying victims of the mass graves.
Once she was done, Meg motioned for the little girl's body to be removed. Meg watched the girl disappear into the tents and stood. She walked a few paces away breathing heavily as she tried to gain control of her emotions. They threatened to overwhelm her, she was close to breaking down, but she had to continue.
Sighing heavily, she turned to go back when there was a hand on her shoulder. Jumping slightly she turned to find one of the Military Police who was assisting, this one was a ballistics expert. John was an fatherly man in his fifties, she could see his compassion in his eyes "Why don't you take a break. Go get some water or throw up if you need to. I do it all the time. It doesn't make you weak Meg." They stood side by side for a few moments his hand squeezed her shoulder and then he was gone, leaving her to gather her thoughts alone. As he turned back to the tents she saw him wipe away his own tears.
Watching him go she smiled, at one time Meg would have bitten this man's head off for suggesting such a thing. She knew John and she knew that he was truly trying to help. If you didn't give you emotions the time they needed you became useless. This man had been to sites like this for years and he knew when someone was close to breaking. Everyone had their Achilles heel and children were hers. When they had first met he told her about the first experiences at these mass graves. He was not telling her to take a break because she was female but because she was a person with emotions. She wasn't the first person he had said this to and she knew he would not be the last.
Nodding her head, Meg walked away trying to forget the little girl who had died so horribly. She wrapped her arms around herself wishing there was someone to hold her and tell her everything would be all right. A warm breeze blew bringing the scents of spring, giving her a false sense of hope. How could there still be hope in the world, when so many people die needlessly. Shaking her head, she couldn't let that happen, hope needed to stay alive to give her the strength to carry on.
Her thoughts turned again to Ben again, she wondered where he was now, what he was doing and who he was with. If she closed her eyes she could almost feel his arms around her, feel the rush of the wind and the gentle touch of his lips. Lost in her memories, she was almost happy and forget that she shouldn't go off alone. The silence was shattered by the roaring of a vehicle, being so caught up in her memories Meg didn't hear it or the gun fire that followed.
Two men jumped out and grabbed her covering her head with a hood. Her world became black as they pulled her into the vehicle. Meg got off half a scream, but one of the men hit her. She fell on the floor beside other people, she couldn't see them but she knew they were there.
Once the van started moving the hood was ripped off. Sitting around her were three other Canadians. They were all dressed in fatigues like she was, but she was the only woman. She could feel the insurgents eyes on her. To prove to herself and them that she didn't fear them or what they would do, lifting her chin, she spoke, "Let us go now. We have not come to your country to harm you. We are here to help your people find peace."
This was rewarded with another slap, "We will never have peace while our country is overrun with those who don't belong."
The man bound her hands behind her back and she kicked out at one of them, catching him where it hurts. The man pulled her to her feet and hit her again, but then caressed her cheek in a way that made her nauseous. Not thinking of the consequences she spit in his face. The look on the man's face chilled her blood, as he hit her again. This time she fell against the side of the vehicle and she welcomed the blackness as she called for Ben.
"Ben, I need you. Help me." Benton Fraser sat up right in bed with a jerk. He was covered in sweat and breathing heavy from his dream. Glancing around him, he saw that he was at home, he was safe, but Meg was not. He ran his hand over his face and glanced at the clock. It was almost time to get up there was no point trying to get more sleep.
Three months of having this dream and he was still no closer to finding Meg. The RCMP and the Canadian Military had found the insurgent group responsible, but by the time they reached the compound Meg was gone. The three other officers who had been snatched at the same time were rescued. They spoke about Meg's courage because once she found out they had families and children at home, she had taken their beatings as well as her own. Their families needed them to come home, where she was alone and no one would mourn her. He was saddened by those words, he did mourn her. She had walked out of his life without a backward glance. Loosing Meg was worse than when his father died. At the moment she walked away Ben knew that he would always be alone, there was no one else for him, Meg was his last love.
When ever they were mistreated she stood up to the captures and diverted their attention from the other men to her. This went on until one day she lapsed into unconsciousness and wouldn't wake up. She had disappeared after that, they did not know what happened to her. Running his hand through his hair he had to smile, when he heard about what she had done, he couldn't have been more proud of her. She was so strong but could anyone endure that for long without loosing their soul. Who would they find when and if they found her?
His hands tightened into fists as he remembered the report he had managed to get a hold of. During the interrogation of her captures, they said they had left her in some field as a message that they were serious. Too bad the Canadians had not got it, because by now she was dead. The leader had laughed and said that she was fun while she lasted.
Red hot anger rushed through him again, if those men had been in front of him, Ben would have broke them into pieces. That one remark had been enough to make him throw up. How could some one be that sick? Meg, how could anyone do that to her, how could they break her like that? He wanted to hate these men but he only felt pity. Now they had to live with what they had done.
Ben hadn't given up hope, Meg was not dead, the dream confirmed it. He just had to wait for her to be found. Some days after waking from that dream Ben wanted to jump on a plane and fly over there to look for her, but all he could do was wait. He did not have the resources needed to find her. The people who did were doing all they could to find her, and she would eventually be found. He prayed that she would be all right.
He closed his eyes, Meg, where are you. He needed to know that she was all right that she was alive. He wanted to hold her in his arms and tell her that he still loved her, that he wanted her in his life, that he was stupid to let her go in the first place. That everything they thought that mattered didn't, all that mattered was that they were together.
Every night for a week Ben had the same dream. Each time he woke with her screaming for his help as she fought off someone and he could do nothing to help her. In his dream Ben fought to get to her but it was like walking through deep water. It came so often in the night hat Ben was surviving on less than two hours of sleep.
After his shower Ben pulled on a pair of regular uniform pants and he could not help but sigh. Three and half years of jodhpurs and red serge it felt good each day to put on regular uniform pants and shirt, but he still wore his boots. They had been through a lot together and he could not bring himself to wear the regulation black ones.
He grabbed a piece of bread from the loaf in the kitchen and with a pat on Dief's head he went out to his truck. Ben was glad that for the northern detachments they had moved to pickups it made getting around so much easier in these rural areas, but he still kept his dog team. He needed them sometimes, usually most of the winter.
At the detachment Fraser made his usual calls, they still had nothing to report . Canadian Forces had found the field where she had been dumped, but there were no signs of Meg or her body. It had been a little over a week since the insurgent claimed to have dumped her and three days since the raid. Meg needed to turn up soon or they would stop looking.
As usual he spent the day shuffling paper. He was glad the day was quiet, he was in no state to deal with any catastrophes. For some reason today, Meg played center stage in his thoughts. Every time he tried to think about something else she wandered in and demanded his attention. Either in memories of the time they spent together in Chicago or just where she was and what he would do when she was found.
Ben was just about to head home when one of the other officers called out "Ben it's for you, Ottawa."
His hand shaking he picked up his extension and pushed the blinking button. He took a minute to gather his thought before speaking, "Hello This is Corporal Benton Frasier."
The voice on the line spoke quickly and was very familiar, "I was told that you had been inquiring about Margret Thatcher? Did you know her?"
He swallowed, "I worked with her in Chicago. She is important to me. Do you have some information about her?" His grip tightened on the phone. They must have some news they didn't phone him to update him on a deadened search.
"Yes Corporal. We found her, she's alive....."
HeHeHe, what do you think should I keep posting??? ~Kelleth~