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The night passes slowly. Meg sleep is restless, and she wakes often. Her mouth is constantly dry, so she keeps drinking water, which means she needs to go to the bathroom every hour. The nurses never seem to mind being called in, coming into the room with brisk efficiency and empathetic smiles.
The process of getting out of bed and to the bathroom is an ordeal. Meg's center of balance is off because of her stomach, and getting out of bed has been awkward for awhile. But the real problem is the pain. Once she stands up, her chest is slammed with an intense wall of pain that steals her breath and makes her head spin.
"Don't move," the nurse reminds her once she's standing, gripping Meg's arm. "Your oxygen level drops when you get up, so just stay here until you feel like you can breathe."
Meg nods, her eyes squeezed shut as she focuses on breathing. The baby kicks and squirms, demanding to know what's going on. She rubs her stomach with her free hand soothingly.
Like a wave rolling back out into the ocean, the pain recedes. Meg breathes out a sigh of relief.
This process repeats several times during the night and into the next morning. The pain medication they give her takes the edge off when she's in bed, but it's useless when she stands. When the morning nurse comes in to take her vitals, Meg is exhausted but sick of trying to sleep. Instead, she turns on the television after the nurse leaves.
The morning news is just finishing up the weather, which, spring in San Diego, isn't really newsworthy. It's sunny, it's warm, it's perfect. What else is there to say? But the end of the segment still takes almost five minutes because the anchors banter back and forth.
Then, the lead anchor turns serious and faces the camera.
"In other news, Adrian Veidt of Veidt Industries, who is now serving as Chief Advisor to the President, has issued a statement about his wife. Meg Veidt, as you may know, disappeared from public view soon after their marriage, citing exhaustion. Mr. Veidt said this."
The image on the screen changes to Adrian as he looked the night before. He stands in front of the hospital, surrounded by the press.
Meg snorts. Adrian has managed to look exhausted and upset. It looks real, even to Meg. The press, and, consequently, the world, must be eating this up.
"As you know," Adrian says, "my dear wife, Meg, was overtaken with exhaustion after her efforts in New York in the wake of November 2. What we chose to keep private was that she is pregnant with our child. She came to San Diego to recuperate and prepare for the birth. However, earlier today she had a pulmonary embolism and was rushed to the hospital. Meg is all right and will make a full recovery. To aid her recovery, we will be secluding, and I appreciate your cooperation. Thank you." He nods his head and leaves.
The news anchor reappears. He says, "We wish Mrs. Veidt a speedy recovery and a safe delivery. In other news…"
She turns off the television and closes her eyes.
iOf course he already has a way to spin this. He probably had that story ready the moment Billy and I made our escape./i
She sniffs, but swallows back her tears, determined not to cry. Tears aren't going to help. She needs to think, needs to plan.
iHow can I possibly come up with a plan clever enough to fool the smartest man in the world?/i
The only reason she got away last time was because she ihadn't/i planned. She'd acted without thought. Adrian couldn't have foreseen that Rorschach got her a message telling her of what happened. Meg still couldn't believe she'd gotten the journal in the first place. If Rorschach hadn't made it to his mail drop… if the boy who found it had been killed in the blast… if Meg hadn't left town before the blast…
But it all worked out and Meg had managed to run. Eight months of going from town to town with no set plan. Of driving wherever the road took her and Billy. Of writing her newsletters, telling the truth of what Adrian had done. Of holding meetings for people, explaining everything she knew.
Of course, she didn't tell anyone who she was. There was too much of a chance of Adrian finding her if she did. In every town, she went by a new name. She'd grown her hair out and dyed it dark brown. Sometimes she thought a few people recognized her anyway, but since she remained free, she assumes they didn't tell anyone.
iOf course, it'd be just like Adrian to let me think I'd escaped while he kept track of me all the while./i
Meg sighs, a dark cloud wrapping around her. She closes her eyes. iThis is hopeless./i
"Knock, knock," Adrian says at the door.
"Mom!"
The cloud recedes somewhat, and Meg opens her eyes. "Billy! Oh, baby boy, how are you?"
Adrian and Billy stand in the doorway. Adrian is holding a bouquet of roses in one hand, the other holding Billy's.
"I'm fine, Mom," Billy says, and Meg misses the days when Billy called her momma. He'd picked up 'Mom' from friends at the last school he'd been at, and now there was no going back. "Adrian said you were sick but going to be okay. You okay?" For a moment, he looks uncertain.
"Of course, honey. I'm just a little sick. Come here, I need a kiss."
He releases Adrian's hand and runs to the bed. Adrian quickly comes up behind him and wraps his arm around the little boy's waist, lifting Billy so he can place a sweet kiss on Meg's cheek.
"Oof," Adrian says as he sets Billy back down. "You're almost too big for me to do that!" He ruffles Billy's hair.
Billy laughs, blushing and looking at Adrian adoringly.
Meg tries not to glower at Adrian. She doesn't want Billy to see. Children are perceptive, and she doesn't want her feelings for Adrian to destroy Billy's fragile security.
"These are for you." Adrian hands the flowers to her.
iCoward, hiding behind a child./i "Thank you." She sniffs them and smiles. "They're beautiful." She sets them on her tray.
He sits on the edge of her bed and takes her hand. "How are you feeling this morning?"
"I'm fine, Adrian. Tired and in pain. But okay."
He reaches for her stomach but hesitates before he touches it. Looks at her.
She nods.
"Any action?" He lays his hand on her stomach.
The baby kicks against his hand. Adrian miles in delight, but Meg likes to think it's trying to defend itself.
"The baby was pretty active last night," Meg says. "Been quiet this morning."
"She's probably tired."
"She?"
He looks at her, surprised. "You didn't know?"
Meg shakes her head, heart fluttering in her chest. "No. I've been going to doctors, but I've moved around so much... And without insurance… Are you sure?"
"The doctor is as sure as he can be, but it's not an exact science. Not yet. But what he was able to see was pretty convincing."
Tears prickle in her eyes. She never seriously thought about having children. The idea of having sex with someone to procreate wasn't something she's ever been interested in, and as a single woman with a demanding job, she's never thought herself a viable candidate for adoption. Billy coming into her life had been a surprise. A blessing, but a surprise nonetheless.
Being pregnant… It terrifies her. There are so many things that can go wrong. And doing it on the run, it's worse. But, to her surprise, she wants this baby. She loves it with a fierce intensity that takes her by surprise every day.
"A daughter." Then, because she can't help it, she says, "Bet you're disappointed. No son to carry on your legacy."
Adrian's jaw tightens. He rises. "Billy, do you want to color a picture for Mom?"
He nods enthusiastically.
"Let's go find Miss Stacy in the waiting room. Mom and I need to talk a bit." He takes Billy's hand, and they leave the room together.
Meg adjusts herself on the bed and pours a cup of water. The cool liquid flows down her parched throat soothingly, and she's able to breathe a little easier when she's done.
Adrian reenters the room and closes the door. "Please don't say things like that in front of Billy. I don't want him to think he's any less my son for not being my blood."
She feels herself go pale. Her mind hadn't been on Billy when she said it, what he might think. He's too young now to understand, of course, but, legally, he is Adrian's son. And yet, she can't help but say, "You're telling me it's not different?"
"I am not my parents." His voice is sharp. Biting. "And I'm delighted to be having a daughter. I told you, Meg, I never thought I'd be a father. You don't understand the joy I feel at this chance." He comes back to the bed and sits. "How are you. Really?"
"Really? I'm really frightened. And in pain. And devastated."
He tilts his head, arranging his face in an expression of concern. "Why?"
She exhales and lays her head back against the bed. It's too heavy to hold upright. "How long have you known where we are?"
"Ah." He looks down and takes her left hand. Runs his thumb over her ring. "Not until I got the call yesterday, darling. I chose to let you go free."
"Right."
"Truly." He looks up, clutching her hand. "When you never returned home, I was shattered. Wrecked. My wife and my son, gone. I thought, at first, you must have been taken. Someone must have… But I quickly came to my senses. The world is united and you, Meg, are its sweetheart." He cupped her cheek and smiled softly at her. "No one would touch you. You had to have left on your own. And the only reason for that is because you learned the truth."
She moves her head so he's no longer touching her face and looks away.
Adrian sighs. "I just can't figure out how."
Meg debates whether to tell him, then decides it's too late anyway. "Rorschach. He made arrangements to get his journal to me."
"Of course." His voice is tight.
She looks at him and sees that his fist is clenched.
Meg rolls her eyes. "For God's sake, Adrian. He's dead. You won." Her voice cracks on the last word and tears threaten. Ruthlessly, she pushes them down. Clearing her throat, she says, "Why didn't you track me, then? I know you could have."
Adrian nods. "I could have. But I also knew that I could find you whenever necessary, for you or for me. But what would have been the point of forcing you back?"
"And now? When I get better, are you going to let us go?"
He sighs and takes her hand again. Kisses it and shakes his head. "I can't, my love. I'm sorry. The first time, it was a simple matter to concoct a story the public could believe. That you were overwhelmed and needed time. Now that we've announced your pregnancy, it makes even more sense. But we can't do it a second time. It'd read too much as if there were trouble between the two of us, and we can't–"
"And God forbid your image be tarnished."
"I'm trying to save the world, Meg." There's an edge to his voice now.
Meg nods, a black curtain of despair settling over her. "So, I'll never be free."
"Darling." He runs his fingers along her hairline and through her hair. "I promise, you will never want for anything."
iNothing, except the only thing that matters./i
