Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize.
Sorry for the long wait; I have been having the worst writer's block in history. I haven't written anything except papers for the last three weeks. I was devastated, as I write other things that don't seem to have a category here at But I hope you like this, and I hope it's up to par after so long. There's an author's note at the end, just to clarify some things.
Unbalanced
Meg sat bolt upright.
Chris was gone.
"Oh no. Oh no, oh no," she muttered, tears filling her eyes. She shook her head at herself. "Don't start crying." She took a deep breath and glanced around the room through teary eyes, trying to gain some sense of familiarity. The room was lit up by the hot California sun, and it was Friday.
Oh God, Friday.
She got out of bed and ran into the other room, expecting to see a note on the table, and all Chris's things gone. She was not expecting to see him sitting at the table, reading the newspaper.
"You're here."
He looked up at her and smiled. "Where else would I be?"
She sat down heavily. "Canada?"
"I found a better solution," he said, leaning over to kiss her. He slid a piece of paper across the table. "I'm bringing it to the office in a little bit, but I wanted you to see it."
She glanced at him worriedly before she picked up the paper and read it. "You have a problem with balance?"
"I do now."
"And this will get you out of having to go?"
He nodded and grasped her hands. "Meg, this means we won't have to go on the run. We can stay here and live our lives and keep trying to end this thing. And I won't have to go off and be killed in a war I don't believe in."
"This is illegal, isn't it?"
"It's only illegal if you get caught." The slight smile had disappeared. "I can't go, Meg, I just can't. And if this is how I can make sure that doesn't happen, then it's what I'm going to do."
"I know. I just wish there was an easier way."
He sat back and shrugged. "Me too. Anyway, I've got to go bring this to the office. Wish me luck."
She did.
When Chris got back that evening, Meg was relieved. He told her, grinning, that everything had worked out and he didn't have to go. He'd come home with some groceries and things they didn't usually have, to celebrate, he said. He told her about Dr. Hernandez, the doctor he'd met a couple days before who was against the war and was helping people like him get out of it.
Meg still had reservations about the whole thing, but they both knew it was only because she didn't want Chris to get caught committing fraud. He'd certainly be arrested for that.
Chris hadn't slept much the night before; he'd been up worrying (not surprisingly, so had Meg), so he went to bed, and Meg sat in the kitchen, still a little unsure of what was going on. The ringing phone startled her.
"Hello?"
"Meg?"
"Mom?" Meg sat up. She hadn't talked to her mother in a very long time.
"Oh, I'm so glad it's you. How are you?"
"I'm okay, Mom. Chris and I are okay."
There was a moment of silence and Meg wondered if maybe she should have left Chris out of it. "That's wonderful. Shelly told me he was drafted. That must be terrible for you. I know what your father said about not wanting you to come home, but if you need to, you can. Always."
"Mom, Chris had a checkup and it turns out he has a medical problem that makes him ineligible to go." Meg closed her eyes against the lie, as though if she squeezed them tightly enough, it would all magically get better. "So he's staying. He doesn't have to go war."
"That's good," Helen said. "You both must be relieved." Meg could picture her mother standing in the hall by the phone, clutching it with two hands. She smiled sadly as Helen changed the subject and began to tell Meg about everything that had been happening in Philadelphia. Meg found herself barely listening, preoccupied in her own thoughts, which were somewhere along the lines of "what happens if we get caught?". "Anyway, Meg, this is a long distance call," her mother said, sounding more cheerful than she had at the start of the conversation. "So I better go. We all miss you, even though your father won't admit it."
Meg chuckled, but she choked on the end of it. "I miss you guys too. I'm fine, Mom. I promise."
"I know. I better go. I love you."
"I love you too, Mom." Meg hung up the phone and stared at it. She crept into the bedroom and lay down next to Chris, who spooned up against her and wrapped an arm protectively and possessively around her. She sighed.
"Are you okay?" he muttered softly against the back of her neck.
"I thought you were sleeping."
"Until I heard the phone ring." Meg was silent, lost in thought again. "Meg?"
"It was my mother," she said with a frown. Chris sat up. "Your mother?"
She rolled over onto her back and looked up at him. "It sounds like everybody's doing fine. My uncle's still dating your mom. I guess it's serious."
"Did my mother tell her about..."
Meg nodded. "I told her you had a check up and they found that you can't go."
Chris breathed a sigh of relief and then looked down into Meg's worried eyes. "Everything will be okay. I promise. Nothing will happen."
Meg nodded and they curled up together. She knew he was probably right.
So why didn't she feel any better?
A/N: I tried to be as historically accurate as I could. It seems that, unless I'm a total dunce and can't even find something on the internet, that there is no record of ways people dodged the draft. And before you say this scenario is ridiculous, I have a friend whose grandfather has a problem with his inner ear and therefore has terrible balance. He got out of having to go to Vietnam because of this. Since I didn't really want to put Chris in a cast and I couldn't find any other feasible reason, I used this one.
Anyway, I hope it seems plausible; I spent FOREVER trying to find medical reasons to get out of going to war during a draft.
I hope this story helps you all get through this uncertain time when we have no idea the fate of AD.
crosses fingers that it will have a fourth season
Thanks to all the reviewers; it's so great that there are people reading this.
