A/N: Woke up to an in-box of reviews today. There can't be a better way to start a day. Thank you so much Ciara, rlrct, filesfreak4life and AvaniHeath for reviewing!

One new chapter now, the other later sometime tonight. The song that inspired this chapter is "Blinding" by Florence + the Machine.

A special thank you to AvaniHeath for her thoughts and support.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: JAG is property of David P. Bellisario. I'm only borrowing.


2 Blinding

Groaning, Lieutenant Hannah Wright reached for her alarm clock. She missed it a couple of times before she eventually swiped it off the nightstand with her elbow. It hit the floor with a cracking sound and the irritating noise cut off in a warbled blare.

Oh great. She'd killed another one.

Hannah dragged her eyes open, staring groggily at the grainy ceiling, her mind foggy with sleep. God, she was getting old. These days, one glass of wine was all it took to send her into a coma. It was embarrassing. At least she'd been home alone and not out with friends. She'd never have been able to live that down.

Slowly, she sat up. Her head was spinning. She shook it, hoping that would chase the cobwebs of sleep away, but all it did was intensify the throbbing in her temple. She was feeling odd. Well, 'hung-over' was probably a better word to describe her present state, only she couldn't be hung-over because she'd only had a glass of wine, for God's sake. On a full stomach.

Maybe she was coming down with something.

Her head was pounding.

A scratching noise on the door caught her attention. When she didn't respond immediately, high-pitched and very annoying meowing replaced the scratching. Scowling, Hannah climbed out of bed, wobbling just a little as she padded to the door, the floor cold underneath her feet. As she opened it, her roommate's cat went quiet, staring up at her with wide green eyes, unblinking. It was unsettling.

"Alright, alright," she muttered when he swiped playfully at her shin with one paw, claws still sheathed. "Breakfast is coming right up." Taking a step forward, her vision blurred and she grabbed the frame of the door for support. Okay, this definitely wasn't normal.

The cat—Sully—meowed once and took off across the hall into Flo's room. Hannah stared at the open door, wondering what it was about the picture that was bothering her. Then the fog finally cleared and her mind shifted into working mode. Like her roommate Flo, she was an analyst, used to finding patterns and discrepancies and what she was looking at now was one hell of a discrepancy. Because Hannah hadn't opened that door and while Sully was capable of a lot of things, including prying open kitchen cabinets and windows, he fortunately couldn't turn a doorknob.

But maybe she was reading too much into this. Maybe she had opened the door to get something out of Flo's closet and just didn't remember. She barely remembered what she'd had for dinner last night.

Or maybe Flo was back.

Yes, that had to be it.

Relief washed through her. Flo had gone UA a week ago, or so everyone had assumed. Hannah still had a hard time believing it. It wasn't like Flo to simply disappear. She always left a note, always called if she was running late. She even called her mother nearly every time before they went out so that she wouldn't worry when she called and nobody answered. Apparently, Flo's mum was a bit prone to overprotectiveness, what with Flo being the youngest of five kids and the only girl at that, and Flo seemed happy to humour her.

"Flo?" Hannah called as she rapped her knuckles lightly against the door. It swung open, revealing the bedroom behind it. The blinds were half-drawn and morning sunlight was streaming in, painting cheerful circles on the floor and Flo's impressive collection of shoes. From where she was standing, Hannah only saw the foot of the bed, so she went inside, careful not to step on anything. Flo wasn't exactly known for her tidiness.

"Florence?" Peering around the corner of the closet, Hannah found Flo in her bed, the blanket drawn up to her shoulders. She lay facing the window, her golden hair splayed out around her head on the white pillow.

"Flo?"

When she didn't respond, Hannah stepped closer. Flo always slept like the dead. She'd once slept through the GQ alarm on a destroyer she'd been stationed on. Nobody was ever going to let her forget it. "Flo, wake up. People have been looking for you. Do you know how much trouble you're in?"

No response. Sully darted out from underneath the bed, nearly giving Hannah a heart attack, and jumped onto the bed, rubbing against Flo's still form. He nudged her shoulder with one paw. Again she didn't react and worry tightened Hannah's stomach. "Are you sick?" she asked. "Flo?" She grabbed her roommate's shoulder and the blanket slid down. Hannah gasped in horror, her gaze locked on the bruises on Flo's skin. They were varying shades of purple, some so light that she knew they were at least a few days old, others so dark they looked more black than purple. They had to be fresh. Standing next to her, Hannah saw that Flo's golden hair was matted and caked with dirt; dried leaves and pine needles stuck to it like weird hair ornaments.

Dread knotted her stomach.

"Flo," she whispered in a thin voice. "Flo, please wake up." She touched her fingers to Flo's naked skin and withdrew them immediately. It was ice-cold. For a moment she stood frozen, her rapid breathing the only sound in the room. Giving herself a push, she walked around the bed, her hands shaking. She clenched them into fists, her fingernails digging painfully into her palms. "Flo?" she asked, louder now.

But part of her already knew that she wasn't going to receive an answer.


A/N: It's back to Harm and Mac in the next chapter.