Chapter Ten

Over the course of the next few days, Jaime seemed to grow more withdrawn…and bitterly angry. Rudy and Michael debated whether the drastic change in her was a stage in her grieving, a complication of the head injury - or something even more ominous.

"I haven't seen a personality change this dramatic since her first bionic rejection," Rudy fretted. "It's more than grief -"

"Grief can produce intense anger," Michael reminded him, "but I have to agree with you. There's something else compounding Jaime's grief."

"She seems to be retaining the memories that have come back to her," Rudy suggested. "Maybe that's at the root of all this."

"That could still change. Jaime may be remembering incidents from her past due to the severe pressure that the swelling caused to the synapses in her brain. Now that the pressure's been relieved and the synapses are returning to their normal state, those memories may disappear."

"Or they might not."

"Right. But personality changes, mood swings and even intense anger are often after-effects of a moderate to severe brain injury - even in the absence of a skull fracture. I've worked extensively with patients in exactly this situation - well, minus the bionics, of course - and I'd like to spend some time talking with Jaime, to analyze any physical or biological changes she might undergo as she confronts everything that's happened to her."

"Just be careful she doesn't pitch the water jug at your head," Rudy said, not entirely joking.

That afternoon, when he'd completed a thorough and systematic check of Jaime's condition, Michael pulled a chair closer to her bedside and sat down. Jaime looked at him questioningly, unsure of what was coming next.

"How's the pain?" he asked.

"It's pain," she grumbled. "It hurts."

Michael ignored the crankiness of her response and eyed her closely. "Tell me what's on your mind today."

"What - you're a shrink now, too?" Jaime snapped.

"Talk to me about Steve."

"No."

"Does thinking about him make the pain worse?"

"I just don't wanna talk about him - that's all," Jaime said, her eyes hard and her jaw set defiantly.

"You've told us he was in your dreams - and that he frightened you. Why? What made you afraid?"

"I don't know."

"I think you do know," Michael responded gently. "Jaime, you need to talk about this."

"Leave me alone!"

Michael saw that she was eying the water jug…and he moved it firmly out of her reach. "Now talk to me. It's the only way you'll start to feel better. What scared you so badly, when you dreamed about Steve?"

Jaime's eyes grew distant and clouded over with pain. "He kept saying….that he loved me…"

"And that frightened you?"

"He doesn't love me. He doesn't care at all…or he would've tried to save Chris!" Jaime looked at Michael with a face that was sad and bereft beyond the point of tears. "He didn't even try!"

"When you saw him the other day, did you ask him about that?"

"Of course I did."

"And?"

"It was all an excuse!" Jaime said with flaming vehemence. "If it had been me over there - or even a total stranger - Steve would've found a way. He would've at least made an effort to -"

"To get himself killed?" Michael injected. Jaime merely glared at him. "Would you feel better about all of this if Steve had gone to Budapest…and died there?"

"Yes! I mean…no! That's not a fair question!"

"Steve has been retired for a long time," Michael reminded her. "Oscar didn't give him an assignment - he asked him for a favor which Steve felt he couldn't deliver. He had every right to say no. I think if you'd been in Steve's situation, you'd have made the same decision."

"But I wasn't in Steve's situation!" Jaime cried. "I was in Budapest - right there with Chris - and…and I couldn't help him."

"Before you can accept what Steve did - and maybe even begin to forgive him - you need to forgive yourself." Jaime's face blanched as she took in what Michael was saying. "You did the best you could," he continued, "in the way you felt was right. So did Chris…and so did Steve."