chapter 10: Brazil
They reached the hangar with a breath of relief. Just one more set of doors and they would be in the desert, with the threat locked behind steel doors.
The Doctor saw her first. "Meg!"
She didn't seem to see them at first. The others' flashlights joined his as they hurried across the hangar to meet up.
Greg cursed when he saw the whole front of her body covered in blood. She limped closer.
"Are you okay?" the Doctor asked. "What happened?"
The Doctor prided himself on his observational skills. That said, on more than one occasion, he was known to miss rather obvious clues. Meg was acutely aware of the world around her. Tactical awareness was a survival skill and a good sign in a prospective companion… hypervigilance, however, was a sign of PTSD. Meg was a fighter – with a past he was more and more afraid to find out about. He should have put two and two together before starring down the barrel of her gun, her eyes holding no recognition in them.
Her eyes. The Doctor's jaw dropped when he saw her eyes. One didn't look haunted like that from just anything. She remembers everything. The Doctor realized. Whatever happened, she knows, and she never told anyone.
How?
Why?
Eight years old!
Grudgingly, the Doctor realized he might have judged her too harshly – he was still right, but she had some serious issues that didn't come from watching Predator at too young an age.
"Call them off."
"Call who off?"
"Stop killing people. Call the monsters off, or I swear, I'll kill you."
"Yeah, no problem, Meg. Whatever you want." Greg said. "Quick question, where are you, right now?"
Meg turned the gun on Greg. "Shut up."
"Yep, shutting up."
The Doctor thought frantically. Come on; you've got to have some trick. You train. You are insanely disciplined. It's important for you to keep your secret. You know you have a trigger, so what does a person like you do?
A trick, something to break the loop. But what?
Her mantra. It was her anti-trigger. "Brazil."
She blinked, the world coming back in focus. She looked so lost, the Doctor wanted to hug her and tell her everything was going to be alright from here on in – he would make sure of it. Except he made up his mind, he wouldn't travel with her again not a half hour ago. Was he already having second thoughts? Honestly, his second thoughts were having second thoughts.
"I'm so sorry Greg," Meg said, shakily. "I can't believe I thought… it's been years since I've had a flashback. I-I thought it was over."
"It's not your fault," Greg said, tentatively hugging her. "It's okay. What's important is you recognize me now, your boyfriend."
She laughed.
"No?" he smiled. "Okay, you got me. Soul mate."
It felt good to laugh after this incredibly awful day. She rested her head on his chest for a moment. If she could, she would have fallen asleep right there. "Thanks. Both of you."
Greg's brow furrowed. "Hang on, how can you have a flashback if you don't remember anything?"
"Malarial nightmare." She waved it away, with a fragile smile. "It's a whole bunch of nonsense. I was seeing zombies and pink elephants by the end of it."
"Look out!" the General shouted, firing at a Treveen.