A/N: Thanks to all who are reading this! I appreciate all the views! To the guests who reviewed it, wish I could respond personally, but I thank you. R/L is getting in the way this weekend so I am posting a shorter chapter and hope to have a longer one next time.

Enjoy!

The Meeting: Chapter Ten

"Son-of-a-bitch!" He hisses as the cut starts to bleed.

"Steve? What's going on? You all right?" Danny yells over the phone.

"I'm fine, Danny, but I gotta go." He grabs a towel, wraps it around his hand and runs to the lanai doors. He stops next to her chair, shocked by the look on her face…sheer terror and pain. He kneels next to the chair and gently shakes her by her shoulders. Getting no response from that and worrying that the neighbors will soon be calling HPD, he shakes her harder. "Maggie! Wake up!"

Gasping loudly and eyes snapping open, she freezes having no idea where she is. Eyes wide, she looks at Steve, terror showing on her face for a moment before disappearing into confusion and exhaustion. "What? Where? Who?" She stumbles over the words.

"You were having a nightmare. You're here, safe at my house, Maggie. You're fine." He keeps his hands on her shoulders. "Look at me, Maggie. You're safe." He stares at her, his face registering calmness and clarity.

She looks into his eyes and relaxes a little. "Steve?" Confusion crosses her face again. She's still breathing hard and her pulse is racing.

"Yeah. I'm here. You're fine. Just a bit of a nightmare." He smiles, hoping to help calm her down.

"Yeah, no. Another side effect of pain medication." She shakes her head and tries to sit further up on the chair.

"Why didn't you tell me? I wouldn't have insisted on you taking them." He helps her sit up then sits back on his heels.

"Doesn't always happen, even with the same meds. It's never the same. I had no idea if I would react this time or not. When I reacted the way I did before, it was just a matter of time before I had one of these terrors."

"You could've warned me."

She gives a low chuckle, "Sorry, but I fell asleep before I could."

He looks down and when she sees his face again, he's smiling. "I'll keep this in mind for the future. Can you handle plain old ibuprofen?"

She nods, smiling back at him. "Yeah, that's fine. When I need it." She grimaces as she moves again.

"Level?" He simply asks.

She looks into his eyes and sees only concern. "Six." He nods, standing up. She notices the towel wrapped around his hand and reaches out, gently grabbing his wrist. "What happened?"

He glances down at his hand, having completely forgotten about the cut. "Oh, it's nothing. Cut myself trying to prepare dinner." He doesn't pull his hand away.

Carefully unwrapping the towel, a sharp intake of air is heard as air hits the wound. "Oh, Steve, I think you need a few stitches. We should get you to the hospital." She places a clean part of the towel over the cut, pressing down on it.

"I'll be fine." He flexes the hand and hisses in pain. "Don't worry." He pulls his hand out of hers.

"Steve, unless you want an extremely ugly scar on the back of your hand, I'm driving you to the hospital. Now!"

"You? You're gonna drive? I'll be safer driving myself." He turns back to the house.

Groaning in pain, she stands up, grabbing his arm. "You cannot drive yourself. Let me."

He hears the pleading in her voice and he understands. She needs to do this; to be helpful in some way. Nodding, he slowly makes his way through the house. Remembering his phone, he detours in to the kitchen, snatching it off the sill.

"Steve? Hey, Steve! You there? What the hell is going on? Come on, answer me now or I will mobilize HPD over to your house. Steve!" He hears Danny yelling over the phone.

"Danny? What the hell you still doing on the line?"

"Steve? What happened? I heard screaming. Everything all right?"

"Oh, god, yeah. She had a nightmare. That was all. Just a nightmare, Danny. We're fine." He walks back to the front door where she's waiting. "I swear, Danny, all's good." He nods at her, following her out the door. "Listen, I gotta take care of something, okay. I'll call you later." He disconnects as he gets in the passenger side of his truck.

"You sure you're okay to drive?"

"Don't worry. I'll get you there in one piece." She grins at him as she starts the truck.

Pulling up outside the house, Steve looks over at her and tried to figure out what she's thinking. The entire time in the ER, her focus was one hundred percent on him and making sure he was not going to have an ugly scar on the back of his hand. He let her concentrate on him knowing she needs to take her mind off everything else; that she needs to do something for someone else. He watches her closely as the doctor stitches up the cut. Her attention is completely on his hand, never once looking up into his face. Once the hand is wrapped, she handles all the paperwork and ushers him back out to the truck. On the drive back to the house, he can't hold his tongue any longer. "Okay, Maggie, what's going on? You haven't said more than two words since we left this house." He turns to her, placing his wrapped hand on her arm.

She shrugs, "Just worried about you. Glad you hadn't started in on that chicken before you cut yourself. That could've been ugly." She continues to look out the front window.

"What was it about?" He urges her on.

"Not sure what you're talking about, Steve."

"The nightmare. I can tell you remember. The haunted look hasn't left your eyes or your face the entire time we were in the ER."

"I can't, Steve. It's a memory of something that happened years ago. Just a memory. That's all." She gently pulls her arm out from under his hand and opens the door. Sliding out of the truck, she makes her way to the house. He follows her inside, closing and locking the door, but not setting the alarm. He can feel the breeze as it went by and he can tell she's already gone out the back to the Adirondacks. His hand aching and not really up for trying to drag any information out of her tonight, he walks to the door and yells out at her.

"Listen, Maggie, I'm bushed. The meds they gave have me a little tired so I'm heading up to bed. You gonna be okay out here?" Getting no answer, he turns on the lights and can just barely see her. He sees her wave at him and he takes it she's fine. "Lights on or off?" Again, she waves her hands in a cutting motion and he turns the lights back off. Leaving the door unlocked, he slowly makes his way up to his room, strips and falls into bed, falling asleep almost immediately.

Hours later, Steve bolts out of a deep sleep, sitting upright in bed, breathing hard and his heart beating fast. Looking around, he's not sure what woke him but something feels off. Getting out of bed, he slips on a pair of shorts, grabs his gun and moves quietly out onto the landing. Looking out into the living room, nothing looks out of place and he carefully moves to the guest room. Peering in, he sees the bed empty. Glancing at the clock, he makes his way down the stairs, checking the front door and moving through the rest of the main floor. Moving to the study, he sees the lanai door is locked but Maggie is nowhere to be found. Moving to the front window, he looks out to see if her rental is still there. Seeing the car, he turns around wondering where she could be. "Maggie? Where are you?" He yells out, setting the safety on the gun and placing it on table. "Maggie?" He checks out the main floor again, becoming concerned. Feeling a bit of panic, he takes the stairs two at a time, moving quickly to the guestroom again. This time he notices that the top cover has been disturbed, which he missed earlier, and checks the door to the balcony. Locked! What the hell is going on? Where is she? He turns as he hears a sound. Moving quickly, he gently opens the door to the bathroom, finding her sitting in the empty tub, knees pulled up to her chest and rocking back and forth. Crouching down next to the tub, he softly puts his hand on her shoulder. "Hey, Maggie, what's going on?"

Without looking up, she replies, "He's coming to get me. I know it. He's gonna finish what he started all those years ago." Her voice is flat, emotionless.

"Who? What are you talking about?"

Blinking fast, she turns her head to him. "Steve? What are you doing? Where am I?"

"You're in the bathroom, Maggie. What's happening?" He sits down on the floor, facing her, hand still on her shoulder. "How'd you get here?"

She looks around. "I don't know. Last thing I remember I was lying down in bed."

Steve drops his head, his fears starting to be realized. "You must have fallen asleep and then walked in your sleep."

"Hmmm, guess so." She shrugs off his hand, plants her hands on the sides of the tub and pushes herself up. He stands, holding out his hand to help her out. Moving slowly, she steps out of the tub, looks up at him and shakes her head. Turning, she walks to her room, closing the door behind her.

"I think she's in trouble. For the last few days, she's been pulling away from everyone around her. I can see in her what I saw in myself a couple years ago. Hell, a couple months ago. She's completely withdrawn, she has no interest in anything around her, she's reliving past experiences and last night she was sleepwalking. She's got a couple of tough days coming up and I'm worried."

"Well, I'm glad you called, Steve. I mean, I can't diagnose anything over the phone or without seeing her, but from what you're describing, she's suffering. I know you are more than familiar with the signs and symptoms so I'll take your word for it. I'm not sure you're gonna be able to get her in but I'll get together a list of referrals for her, if you'd like."

"That would be great, Matt. Mahalo. Can you email that over? I just have to figure out how to approach her. She's screaming out for help yet turns away every time it's offered. I'm afraid it's too late."

"Where is she right now?"

"Where she usually is: sitting out on the Adirondacks, staring at the ocean. She'll sit there for hours not moving and I almost have to force her to eat something. With her medical conditions, I expect to find her either in a diabetic coma or lying there with a bullet in her brain. I have to admit, I'm scared. I've seen more than my share of friends and team members who couldn't hack it and took the easy way out. I can't let her do the same."

"You really care about this woman, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do. I know how she's feeling, losing someone so close, and I've felt so protective of her from the moment I met her. I can't explain it, but I have to do everything I can to make sure she doesn't fall."

"Yeah, down that proverbial rabbit hole, as you so eloquently put it. I applaud you for taking this woman in, even though you don't really know her and wanting to help her as much as you do but I have to warn you, also. Be careful, Steve. You are still working on your issues and the last thing you need is to take on someone else's problems. Don't let her drag you down that rabbit hole of hers."

Steve closes his eyes, dropping his head, "I understand, Matt. I'll be careful. I'll call you if I need you. Thank you."

"No worries. I'll send you that list by this afternoon." He disconnects the call.

Steve shoves his phone in his pocket, walks out on the lanai and watches her. For the next hour, neither of them moves.