AN: Ok I won't be able to update for a week, but I have two chapters ready to post when I can. Sorry the style will change from all this angst soon, but at the moment Meg is dealing with a whole lot of stuff. Thanks for all the amazing reviews, especailly VisualIDentificationZeta, jpstar57, byrhthelm, Semaphore and rlrct.
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Meg slept with the curtains open and the light on in her room from now on. She refused to go anywhere dark or enclosed. Harm tried to avoid any situation that would cause her to have a panic attack. But even Harm couldn't save her from her dreams. Every night Meg woke up screaming.
Meg avoided any sleep at all costs. She had to sleep of course, but she dreaded it. As the days past she became thin and had huge bags under her eyes. She smiled less and less, she was listless and scared of most things. Her blonde hair was limp in its normally bouncy bob. She wandered around the apartment with a forlorn attitude. The Meg Harm used to know was gone. She was a shell of who she was, Harm felt she was letting her situation take the upper hand. Harm began to look worried, Harriet brought over food and Bud tried to make her laugh. Nothing changed. Meg felt like she was walking on eggshells.
Earlier that day Meg had found two envelopes. Scrawled across the front in Harm's handwriting was her name. Their old habit of writing letters to one another while Harm was flying had amused her and reading them on her couch was a highlight of her day. Letters were like old friends; their words wrapped around you and immersed you in someone else's world for a little while. She had treasured every letter and photograph from Harm in a box. She wanted to read these too, and engage herself in Harm's letters for a while. She decided to wait until Harm was safely asleep in her spare room before she allowed herself to indulge in his letters.
Glancing over her shoulder to make sure Harm was still asleep on her spare bed she carefully prised the first letter open. The paper crinkled. She scanned the page. Her thoughts ranged from sad about the hopefulness and happiness in Harm that would be destroyed by her disappearance, to amusement at Harm's burnt dinner. That dinner was the last time she saw Harm before she disappeared, and it felt like a century ago. Time had crawled. Calculating in her head Meg realized that Harm's fateful dinner had taken place just over a week ago. What a horrible week it had been.
The second letter was smaller. It was written on JAG paper, Harm's wards were all but scrawled. Meg stared at the paper, he must have written it during the search for her. The question was if it was before there was hope for her return, or after. Meg let the paper drift down before determinedly lifting it back up and reading it.
An hour later she was still clutching the letter, her fair fingers scrunching the sides of the paper. I think I may love you. Harm may love her, Meg. She loved Harm sure, but Harm loved her? Her face lit up in the old Meg smile. Well actually he said may love her. May. What does that mean? Meg came to a realization. Harm was talking about the old Meg. He wasn't talking about the Meg who had nightmares and was scared of everyone. Not this new Meg who wouldn't leave the house and wouldn't let him out of her sight. The happiness just washed right out of her. He loved the old her, not the new Meg. She wasn't the old Meg anymore, so therefore Harm didn't and couldn't love her.
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After two nights with only three hours sleep, Meg fell asleep on the couch. Harm was relieved, he knew of her nightmares, but he couldn't help her, all he could do was hold her when she woke up. He had called the psychologist from the hospital and she said time would heal Meg. All he could do was wait. Something else seemed to be on her mind at the moment. She would drift off in the middle of a sentence and stare off into space. She was moodier, and took insult at everything he said. Meg wasn't acting in the slightest bit like herself.
He had been patient and hadn't pushed her into doing anything she didn't want. He made sure she ate, gave her space and hugged her when she needed it. Last night he had brought her home a Texas pizza. Meg had eaten two bites. Now Meg looked worse than when she had come out of the cellar, Harm was concerned. He didn't know how much time she needed, or when she would breakdown from exhaustion and starvation. Something needed to change.
Meg moved in her sleep. Harm stared down at her. She deserved a good rest, time for her body to recover. He gazed at her face, it was troubled. He wanted to wipe all the worry and fear off her face. Somewhere in this troubled woman was his spunky, cheeky, impulsive and brave partner. Every now and then that Meg would peek out from behind this new Meg. Harm rejoiced in those times. She was still his Meg.
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James stood in front of Meg. He held a gun in his one hand, in his other a letter. His face was covered in an evil smirk. "Miss me already? I hope you didn't miss me too much." He stepped forward. Meg tried to move back but found she was tied to a chair. She strained at her bonds, James laughed at her. She began to frantically try to get away, but the harder she tried the louder James laughed. Her head began to ache with all the noise.
"Stop James please, stop!" She begged and pleaded. James laughed harder.
He began to get closer and closer to her until he was right in her face. He waved the gun around. "I could kill you with this, but I'm creative." He put the gun down. He brought the letter forward. James grinned. "See this?" Meg realized it was Harm's letter. I think I may love you. "I see you know which letter this is. I could kill you but you see instead of that I have made you undesirable to the man you love. He wants you. But as you know that Meg, the one he loves, is dead and gone." He got right up close into her face and she was overwhelmed with the smell of onion and garlic. It made her gag. Fear filled her.
"I will change. I will be the old Meg again. You won't win. I can heal." She frantically argued. This was a nightmare. Nothing James said was true. She was going to wake up and be safe at home.
He cackled. "Do you see any change in yourself? Yes you do. Every day you drift further and further away from the old Meg. The doctors said to give it time, but all time is doing is making it worse."
She cried out at him. "Shut up! Just shut up! You aren't real, go away and never come back!"
James moved away from her. He smirked. Meg strained away from him. "I may not be real but what I say is."
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Screaming filled the apartment as it had every night since Meg had come home. Harm once again awoke with a jerk. Meg had thrown off her blanket in the night. Her face was screwed in pain. Harm was filled with pain at the sight before him. Her arms and legs were frantically moving. Her blonde hair was damp with sweat and her freckles stood out on her white face.
He shook her, gently at first, then harder. "Meg, wake up. It's only a dream." Her eyes flew open taking in the room. The blue orbs were filled with panic. Scanning the room she finally settled on his face. "It's not real."
She collapsed exhausted against his chest. "It's realer that you think it is Harm." She clung to him like she had every other night. She cried like she did every other night. Harm found himself thinking something has to change, I can't do this anymore. Then he had an idea, and it may just be crazy enough to work.