AN: Merry Christmas to all my readers and reviewers! I hope to post at least one more time before Christmas. Anywho enjoy this chapter, and review!
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Meg's POV
It was colder than when she had last woken up. Meg interpreted this bit of information as it was probably night now. She was still hungry, and it looked like James hadn't been down here again. He certainly hadn't left her any food. Her stomach growled.
"James! James please, I need some food and water!" Meg pleaded. She didn't even know if he was still here. He may have left her to die. In that case calling was fruitless.
But her shouts were quickly rewarded with footsteps across the cellar ceiling. They stopped. She continued to call until her voice became hoarse and her head swam with exertion. James never came down.
Meg strained at her bonds, but all the good that did was cause the rope to cut into her skin, until she felt blood dripping down. Nausea overwhelmed her for a second. She gagged. He couldn't leave her here to die? The very thought of being caught in this small room with no window terrified Meg. But she was scared stiff by the idea that she was going to starve to death down here. She pulled at her bonds once more; they cut into her skin again. Meg didn't have the energy to scream. She didn't even have the energy to cry, or enough moisture in her body. How long had she been without food? How many days had passed since she had called Harm?
Meg's eyes slid shut. Surely Harm would be here soon?
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The throbbing in her head had died down enough for Meg to become more aware of her surroundings and situation. There was still no sign of food or water from James. He was obviously punishing her for attacking him, or else he wanted her to die slowly. Either was possible. The room was just as small and dark as Meg remembered, the walls threatened to close in on her. She would have thought after the amount of time spent in this room her claustrophobia would have ceased, instead it returned stronger than before. She began to hyperventilate. Her fears were beginning to get the better of her.
A crash from above her, jerked Meg out of her thoughts. She noticed that whatever James was doing upstairs he wasn't bothering to be quiet. There were footsteps, sometimes it seemed like he was running. Other times she could hear him talking to himself, though she couldn't make out the words. He moved furniture, and once or twice his phone rang. He never picked it up.
She felt ill and weak from the lack of water. The adrenaline that had kept her awake for so many days had faded. Now instead of being awake and all her senses being on full alert, she wanted to sleep. Her uniform was filthy and she felt like she was covered in an inch of dirt. Her wrists stung like crazy from all her attempts to get herself free. Her stomach ached for food.
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Her eyes flew open. She must have drifted off. She heard bangs that sounded suspiciously like flash bombs going off. People were yelling. It sounded loud to her ears, her headache returned. Why didn't they come down here and find her? A whole lot of gunshots went off at once. Silence reigned once more.
Then the yelling started again. Shakily Meg called out, "Please somebody I'm down here! Please come get me out!" Somebody thumped on the cellar door. Meg didn't know if they were here to help her, or if they wanted her dead. She would take her chances. "Help me..."
The door was broken into with a loud crack. Men in black with guns were in her face. They hesitated, then one spoke into his radio. "Paramedics in the cellar. ASAP." They weren't going to hurt her. Meg thought she had no tears left to cry, but she was wrong. The men all seemed to hesitate. One came forward and leaned over her to cut her bonds. She was rescued at last.
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Everything became a whirlwind of men with guns, paramedics poking her and asking her how she felt, and an ugly looking police officer asking her if she could talk. It was all too much. What Meg wouldn't give for one familiar face. Someone she knew. She felt so overwhelmed, so lost. The sun shone bright in her face after all her days in the dark. She was only beginning to see clearly. Her eyes stung.
There were too many people around her. Where was James? He could be just waiting to kill her, a paramedic leaning over with his smile, or the police officer with a nose like him. He could be anywhere. She tried to look everywhere, adrenaline rushed through her body. Meg began to panic. People began moving faster around her, hands reached out to sooth her, and nurses spoke assuring words. She felt trapped, her eyes searched for a face she knew, anyone. Her eyes lit on a group of people with familiar uniforms, trying to push their way past the police lines. She began to identify them; Krennick and the Admiral were yelling at some police officers, Bud was comforting a crying Harriet. The last figure was desperately searching the scene in front of him, Harm. She began to cry with relief. He was here.
Nurses soothed her. A voice called out her name. Once, twice. He was here. Someone pushed away all the hands that were attempting to comfort her. The next thing she knew was she was pressed against someone who smelled like Harm. Her hand free of the IV clung to him. He gripped her like he was never letting go. She couldn't stop the tears. She was safe. And she hadn't felt like that for who knew how long. James couldn't get to her while Harm was there. Her fingers gripped his top with intensity. She was dirty, tired and hungry, but now Meg was also safe.