Chapter Three

"Chris…" Jaime whispered again.

Rudy didn't think she was anywhere near ready to hear the truth - but he couldn't outright lie to her, either. "Chris isn't here, Honey," he told her gently. Jaime's vital signs were bouncing all over the place; she didn't seem fully conscious.

"Need…Chris…." she murmured before her eyes fluttered closed again.

Oscar arrived outside the doorway just in time to overhear Jaime's plaintive cries. His eyes met Rudy's and the doctor shook his head sadly, joining Oscar in the hallway.

"Can she hear us?" Oscar wondered.

"No. I tuned her ear down when we relieved the pressure in her brain. The less extraneous input right now, the better."

Oscar nodded. "Are you going to tell her - or would you rather let me do it?"

"About Chris? I'll tell her, but right now the stress would be to much for her. When her condition improves - or if she flat-out asks me - I'll tell her."

"I called Steve."

Rudy's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Oh?"

"He hung up on me."

"That's hard to believe. Do you think he's coming?"

"I just…don't know."

Steve had managed to eke out an hour or two of sleep, but the night was full of terrible images - both when he was asleep and even more so when he was awake. He had never refused a mission before and cursed himself now for having done so this time. But he'd been retired for over five years. The refusal had nothing to do with Chris (or Chris's relationship with Jaime). Steve had figured - probably correctly - that once he stepped back into agent mode, Oscar would be reluctant to let him go back to retirement.

Now Chris was dead…and Steve was overcome with anger. Oscar had no right to put him in that position, to expect him to be a savior! He had no contacts anymore, no safety net! Hell, where did Oscar get off sending Jaime and Chris in the first place? They were supposed to have been retired, too! Steve knew that if Jaime found out he'd refused to go to Budapest, she'd probably never forgive him - and she had that right…if she survived.

Steve's heart longed to rush to Jaime's side, to hold vigil at her bedside, to comfort her, but he was certain his presence wouldn't be welcome. Still, he couldn't just sit on the deck of his boat and swill scotch and not do something. Resolutely, he packed a small bag and headed for the airport.

In the netherworld between unconsciousness and coma, Jaime was experiencing some horrific images of her own. She saw Chris, reaching for her from the other side of a widening chasm…heard him calling her name…and then he was gone and there was nothing left except the abyss. Jaime's dream-self, convinced she could find him, jumped into the chasm - and began to fall. Hundreds of hands reached toward her, some almost touching her as she free-fell toward the unknown world below.

"No…." real-world-Jaime cried out, just before she hit the bottom.

Surprisingly, it didn't hurt. The fall had felt endless and the room was larger than she could possibly conceive. Pitch-blackness enveloped her so thickly that dream-Jaime couldn't see her own hand in front of her face. She could sense dozens and dozens of people crowded all around her…but there was only one person she longed to see. Gathering her voice, dream-Jaime and real-world-Jaime called out in unison:

"Chris!"

There was no answer. No one spoke at all, but the crowd was surging nearer. Jaime felt as though she might suffocate. There were too many of them! They were closing in…she couldn't breathe! Panic beat hard in both Jaimes' chests and then suddenly, one calm voice spoke out of the darkness.

"Jaime….?"

Steve didn't belong here! Why was he calling to her…and where was Chris….?

Frightened beyond screaming, real-world-Jaime opened her eyes. She was all alone.