Rating:  PG

Disclaimer: The characters of Gary Hobson, Chuck Fishman, and Marissa Clark belong to Sony/Tristar and CBS productions.  No copyright infringement intended.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

To Have and To Hold
(parts 6-9)
by inkling

Rating:  PG

Disclaimer: The characters of Gary Hobson, Chuck Fishman, and Marissa Clark belong to Sony/Tristar and CBS productions.  No copyright infringement intended.

To Have and To Hold - Part 6
by inkling
 

Incredulous, Gary stared for a moment at the small point headline.

"Hey, Chuck, listen to this!"

Chuck, still digging in the donut bag, glared at Gary.  "What happened to ‘You're gonna wake Meghan up?'" he mocked in a stage whisper as he pulled a large chocolate covered donut out.  Half of the donut disappeared in one bite.

"Just shut up and listen, okay?"  Chuck shrugged, chewing on his donut as Gary read aloud.
--------------------------------------------
MISSING WOMAN'S CAR FOUND

Aurora police Tuesday identified an abandoned car found within their city limits as that of Minter Wells resident Meghan Hudson, missing now for over three days.  The car was found on the edge of US Highway 34 near its junction with Interstate 88.  Mrs. Hudson's purse and other items were still inside.  No sign has been found of Mrs. Hudson.

According to Minter Wells police, Mrs. Hudson was on her way home from an art trade show in Chicago Friday morning when she disappeared.  She called her husband from a gas station as she was leaving Chicago, and has not been heard from since.  Prior to the discovery of her car near Aurora, it was feared Mrs. Hudson had been swept away in a tornado that struck the small farming community late Friday morning.

 Aurora and Minter Wells police are now looking into possibilities of foul play.
-----------------------------------------------
Gary thumped the paper triumphantly.  "See?  What'd I tell ya?"

Chuck took another bite of his donut, barely chewing before he swallowed it.

"Yeah, well, what did I tell you?  I told you this could be trouble, and I was right.  Or didn't you notice the part about *foul play*?"

"That won't matter.  I can take Meghan home today, before the police find her car."   Gary folded the paper and tossed it back on the table.  Chuck almost choked on the last bite of his donut.

"You're taking her home? You are taking her?" Coughing, he stared at Gary.  "Are you nuts?  What do you think her husband's gonna do when some strange guy drives up with his wife?  ‘Yeah, your wife's been staying with me in my apartment for the last three days.  Oh, and we just happened to spend last night together in my bed.  Don't worry though, nothing happened.'  You think he's gonna just say ‘Oh, thank you very much?'  You think he won't call the police?  How are you going to explain that scratch on your face?  Gar, listen to me," Chuck begged, his voice rising.  "You've got to take her to the police and let them deal with it."

 Gary didn't bother to whisper this time, either.

"No.  The paper sent her to me, and it's my job to get her home.  If she needed the police, that's where she'd be.  For whatever reason, she's here, and she's my responsibility, and I'm going to see it through.  And that includes getting her back to where she belongs.  Now are you gonna help me, or not?"

"Where's Crumb when I need him?  He could talk some sense into you."  Chuck muttered, turning away from his friend.  He froze at the sight of Meghan sitting on the bed, cat cradled in her arms as she stared at them both.

"Uh, Gar..."

Gary turned, flushing when he saw Meghan.  He traded anxious looks with Chuck.  How much had she heard?

"Um, want a donut?  There's some eclairs on the bottom."  Chuck held out the bag of donuts.

Gary shook his head disgustedly at Chuck.  Picking up the the paper, he held it out as he took a step toward Meghan, still staring blankly at him.  "Meghan... there's, there's this article in the paper this morning, see, and it says that a lady named Meghan Hudson has been missing since Friday.  She lives in a little town outside of Chicago called Minter Wells..."  Gary's voice faded as Meghan stood up, turning away from him without responding.  He caught Chuck's eyes with his own, and indicated the door with a sideways jerk of his head.  Chuck nodded.

"Um, well, you know, I gotta go make some phone calls...the power, yeah, gotta see if I can find out when the power will be back on."  Dropping the bag of donuts back on the table, Chuck headed for the door.  Paper in hand, Gary stood watching Meghan until he heard the door shut, then he went to stand behind her.  Cat in her arms, she stared out the window at the fair dawning day, and he wasn't sure if she hadn't noticed - or was unwilling to notice - him.

"Meghan..."  She flinched when he spoke, and Gary sighed, swearing silently.  He should have known better.  He should have taken the paper and the donuts and shut the door in Chuck's face.   Where's your brain, Hobson?  He reached for her shoulder, stopping just short of touching her.  "Meghan--"  He shifted around to where he could see her face, his hand still half out to touch her.  She was crying.  Tears streaming down her face, eyes closed, she shook her head at him.

"No, Gary, you don't have to say anything.  I do.  I owe you an apology... a big one."  Reluctantly, she turned to him.  "I- I- I never stopped to think about you.  I never stopped to think what my presence here might be doing to your life.  I- I- I just felt so safe and comfortable here, with you... I couldn't remember anything, and you were so willing to take care of me, I- I just went with it.  I let my mind go blank and I didn't even try to remember.  It was easier to drift away and pretend you, pretend you and I--"   Shoulders slumped, Meghan looked away.  "And then last night, after we -- after I--"  She swallowed.  "You were still so- so kind, and I just...  I'm so sorry.  I didn't mean... I didn't think..."   Wiping her tears with one hand, she stared at the floor.  The cat purred patiently in her arm.  One hand clenched about the paper, Gary dropped the other hand to his side.  He wasn't sure he trusted himself enough to try to comfort her - to take her in his arms again.  He didn't know what he would say to her, anyway.

Straightening, Meghan put the cat down as she turned back to him, her face composed now.  "You don't have to take me home.  I'll find a way to get there, now that I know. Thank you... thank you for everything."

Gary searched her face for a minute before replying.  "No, no, no... Meghan, listen: you don't understand... I, I, I've been...  I, I, what I mean is..."  His hands came up pleadingly as Gary stammered to a stop.  His eyes caught and held hers.  "It was me as much as it was you."  His hands dropped to his sides as Meghan frowned, shaking her head as she opened her mouth to object.  Leaning toward her, Gary touched her arm, forestalling whatever she was going to say.

"N-n-no, just, just listen, okay?  Just hear me out."  She stared at him mutely, then nodded once.  Gary took his hand away.  Not a man who articulated his feelings very well in the best of circumstances, he hesitated, the paper still clutched in one hand, looking away from Meghan to examine the room around him, as if he hoped to find in the woodwork words to explain his thoughts and feelings over the last few days - to himself as well as Meghan.  Grimly, he acknowledged the cat as it came to sit at his feet.

This, this is all your fault, I hope you know.  I *am* going to get you back one of these days.  You can count on it.  The cat calmly began to wash itself.

As he met Meghan's anxious gaze a second later, inspiration came to Gary from somewhere, somehow.   Dropping his gaze to the floor, he swallowed.  "You, you weren't the only one who just went with the flow.  I told you what Marcia and I were like, together."  Meghan nodded as he looked up.  She was entirely focused on him.  Gary gave the paper a tiny wave.  "Well, I guess, I guess all this time I've been thinking that it was all my fault we broke up.  Chuck, he, he's tried to tell me it wasn't just me, and Marissa too, but I guess, I guess I wasn't listening.  And Emma... but she left me, too, f- for somebody else.  Then Renee came along, and I, well, I thought that I had another chance for happiness.  But lately, lately I've been worried about it all happening again..."  Gary's face clouded as he hesitated, and Meghan touched his arm gently.  Blinking away the haze of memory, Gary half smiled at her, shifting his feet and the paper nervously.  Her hand dropped as he went on.

"Marcia and I, we seemed so right together, at first anyway,  and then it all fell apart, and I never really understood why.  Except Marcia, Marcia, she always had an agenda, and I, uh, well I never seemed to fit with it.  And if Renee, well if she has an agenda, too, and if - or when - I didn't fit in with her, ah, with her agenda, I started wondering if she'd dump me the same way Marcia did, and I- I-"  Gary took a deep breath, and his eyes briefly sought Meghan's before he looked away, anywhere but at the woman in front of him.  "I realized I don't want to risk it -- I don't want to be dumped like that, not again, not ever."  The paper chopping the air punctuated Gary's statement. Staring out the window at the sunshine, he continued,  "Then you- you came along and you just accepted me...  as me.  Myself.  No agenda, nothing."  He smiled softly, turning and lifting a hand apologetically to Meghan.  "It was easier to jump in and pretend right along with you, make believe that we belonged together, than to think about what might happen someday with Renee.  At least,  uh- well, at least until last night..." he gestured helplessly, nervously and Meghan's eyebrows went up as she smiled ruefully -- just as she had last night.  Gary heart lurched, then he refused to allow the sudden memory of last night to stay.  Not again.  Returning a brief smile, Gary hesitantly held out one hand, growing serious.

"My life right now, right now my life, it- it sort of has it's own agenda, and it's not something I can just walk away from.  But you were--" Gary groped for the right words, both hands out now, the paper forgotten.  "Wi- wi- with you, be- because of you, I saw that the right person, if she was the right person, she'd understand that - a- a- about my life.  She'd be willing to work with me, with what's important to me, not just what's on her agenda.  I wouldn't have to be afraid of her."  His eyes held Meghan's, willing her to accept his words.  "You've given me something I never had before.  You shown me what my life could be like, from the inside out, with someone who would take me for who I am, not what she can make of me."  Their eyes locked again, and it was Gary's turn for the rueful smile.  "Your husband is one lucky guy."

Meghan was silent, tears again streaming down her face.  Reaching up, Gary gently wiped them away. Then she was in his arms, and they held each other tightly.

"You gonna be okay?"  Gary whispered into her hair.  Meghan nodded against his shoulder.

"Well, I guess it's about time we took you home."  She nodded again, the cat's purr rumbling about their feet words enough for both of them.

********************************

Several hours later, a call to information had netted an address for Gary and Meghan Hudson, on a rural road outside of Minter Wells.  A phone call was the simplest solution, but, with power and phone lines down throughout the area in the aftermath of the night's storms, it proved impossible.  Plan B had been to stop off in Aurora and pick up Meghan's car.  Arriving at the intersection of the two highways, they had found three different vehicles by the side of the road, a blue Mazda Miata, a small Toyota pickup, and an older model Jeep Wagoneer with the wooden side paneling.  Meghan couldn't begin to say which one was hers.  Chuck voted for the Miata, while Gary rather thought the Jeep was more likely.  However, all three cars were locked up tight, and, as they had no keys, that route too had proved a dead end.

So it was on to Plan C.  Gary, Meghan and Chuck took Chuck's car and headed southwest on Highway 34, Marissa left behind to deal with whatever business would turn up at McGinty's.  The day, after beginning clear and beautiful, now started to deteriorate, a line of thunderstorms moving in from the south.  Chuck maintained his opinion that Gary was nuts to try to take Meghan home himself.  But, he insisted on coming along, to "pick up the pieces" when all was said and done.  Secretly, Gary was relieved, no matter the reassurances he gave Chuck.  Despite good intentions and often better results, his rescue efforts did not always turn out well for him.  Witness the Great Pyrenees adventure just three days ago.  While he hoped for the best, Gary wasn't sure what Meghan's husband was going to think when a stranger drove up with his wife in tow.

Meghan sat quietly in the back seat, nervously folding the hem of her blue sweater.  Gary had tried talking to her a couple of times, but she didn't have much to say.  She was nervous, that much he understood, and she was desperately hoping something they saw on the trip would trigger her memory before she had to face a husband she couldn't remember.  Surreptitiously, he checked the paper again.  The headline about her car hadn't changed.  Chuck glanced at him, then spoke, sotto voce.

"Nothing yet about ‘Irate Husband Beats Wife's Rescuer to a Bloody Pulp?'"

Gary didn't even crack a smile.  "No."  He shifted his shoulders in his leather jacket and stared out the window at the passing countryside.  Chuck sighed, lifting his eyebrows to his reflection in the rearview mirror.  This trip was getting old, fast.  Gary was in no mood for chit chat, and Meghan had been a lost cause from the beginning as far as Chuck was concerned.  Besides, the things Chuck really wanted to discuss with his friend he wasn't about to mention in front of Meghan.  Between the two of them, he and Gary had done enough damage there already.  He started to whistle tunelessly to himself, only to find Gary staring at him balefully.

"What?"

Gary shook his head, then pointed at the road.  "Just keep your eyes on the road, okay?"

Shrugging, Chuck gave up on whistling, and drove, willing the trip to be over soon.

********************************************

"There it is, that must be the farmhouse he meant!  Turn right, there."   Gary pointed out the window at the blue house near the main highway.  Just beyond the house, a narrow rural road intersected the highway from the north.  Only four miles from Minter Wells at this point, they had stopped at a gas station a bit further back to ask general directions.  Rain had fallen intermittently since they left the Metro area behind, and now, beneath lowering black clouds, the wind was picking up considerably.  Chuck found himself constantly dodging blowing papers and other debris on the road.  Avoiding a spinning can, he turned onto the narrow road. A half mile or so down the road, they drove past a small, dilapidated building.  Set back from the road a little ways, it was an old school that had definitely seen better days.  Several kids were playing on the equipment in the adjoining playground.

Another mile or so down the road, Chuck whistled at the skid marks now tracking all over the asphalt in front of them.  He leaned forward over the steering wheel to get a better look.

"Geez, what do they do for fun out here?  Play  dodge cars?'"

Gary opened his mouth to respond, but Meghan beat him to it.

"Stop!  Pull over, please!  Now!"

"What?  What's the matter?"  But a glance in his rearview mirror told Chuck exactly what the matter was.

Meghan, her eyes huge, terror stark on her dead white face, was practically climbing over the seat to get out of the car.  Gary tried to calm her, to get her to sit back down, but she refused to listen.  Quickly, Chuck pulled over to the side of the road and stopped the car.  Gary scrambled out, barely getting the seat popped forward before Meghan came barreling out.  One hand was at her mouth, the other clenched in a fist so tight Chuck was certain she must be drawing blood from her palm.  Running a few steps off to the side, she proceeded to lose her lunch -- and her breakfast too from the sounds of it.  Chuck winced sympathetically, then rested his hands on the steering wheel and watched out the window as Gary approached Meghan.  She was standing with her back to them, arms wrapped around herself.  Her skirt billowed around her, and Chuck wondered how either one of them could stand up in the increasing gale.

"Meghan."  She blinked, several times, seeming to be returning from somewhere very far away.  Slowly, she focused on Gary's face.  She swallowed several times before she could speak.

"I- I- remembered something.  I was driving, here, down this road.  There was a funnel cloud.  It was coming down right in front of me, and I couldn't..."  She shuddered, closing her eyes briefly.  "I tried to pull over to the side of the road, but the winds were so strong they just whipped my car around, all over the road.  I- I- thought I was dead."  She reached gingerly for the fading bruise on her forehead.  "That must have been when I hit my head, and my arm,  cause everything just goes black for a bit after that.    The next thing I remember, all I could think about was the wind, getting away from the wind.  I, I just wanted to be somewhere safe, where the wind couldn't get me.  I was kind of dizzy, and my head hurt, but once everything stopped spinning, I- I gunned the engine, and drove away, as far away from the wind as I could."

"You think maybe that's how you wound up in Chicago?"  Concerned, Gary stepped closer to her. Meghan frowned, then shook her head slowly.

"I don't know.  That's all I can remember."  Turning to face Gary, she took a deep breath and gave him a weak smile.   "I'm sorry.  I just panicked, it all came back to me so suddenly."

"That's all right."  Gary's face crinkled as he smiled in return.  "At least you didn't throw up in Chuck's car.  I'd never hear the end of it."   Meghan's clear laugh rang out, and they turned back to the car, Gary grabbing Meghan's elbow to steady her as they leaned into the wind.

"All better?"  Chuck inquired as they climbed back into the car.  Gary shot him a look.

"Those were Meghan's skid marks back there."

Comprehension dawning, Chuck was for once at a loss for words.  "Oh."   Abashed, he started the car up.  As he pulled out onto the road and began to gather speed, what looked like a section of a barn wall suddenly floated out of nowhere to land in front of them.

"Hang on!"  Chuck swerved, managing to miss all but the corner of the wood.  That corner was enough, as they heard the sudden *pop* of the right rear wheel blowing out.  Fighting for control, Chuck pulled the car to a stop on the edge of the road once again, then he and Gary got out to inspect the damage.

"I hope you checked the spare before we left,"  Gary shouted into the wind.

"Nah, never thought we'd need it."

"Nev- never, never thought we'd need it?  That's why you carry a spare, just in case you do need it!"  Chuck shrugged off Gary's incredulous stare.

"Hey, I'm never that far from a gas station or at least some kind of  help, unless I'm somewhere out in the boondocks because of you."

"Very funny.  For that, you can change the tire by yourself."

"Well at least get me the keys out of the ignition so I can get the spare out!"  Chuck kicked the offending wheel as Gary opened the car door to get the keys.  Meghan had followed them out of the car.  Trying vainly to control her hair in the growing wind, she stared numbly at the dark clouds slowly overwhelming the sky above them.  Gary touched her arm reassuringly as he reached in for the keys.  He had left the paper lying on the front seat, and as his eyes caught the new headline there Gary's blood ran cold.

THREE CHILDREN FEARED DEAD IN TWISTER.  One child missing as second twister in four days hits small community of Minter Wells.  Scanning the article hurriedly, Gary realized the children in question must be the children they had just passed, playing on the school playground equipment.  According to the article, the tornado struck at approximately 1:23 p.m.  Gary's watch said 1:07.

"Hey Gar, the keys!"  Backing out of the car, Gary tossed the keys to Chuck.  Reaching in to grab the paper, he turned to Meghan.  She was still mesmerized by the clouds, and he touched her shoulder to get her attention.

"Meghan, I- I-, there's something I have to go do.  You stay here with Chuck, and I'll be back as soon as I can."   He was stuffing the paper inside his coat as he spoke.

The look she turned on him was pure panic.

"No!"  She grabbed his arm in that same vise-like grip she had used last night, and Gary tensed.  He had to go take care of those kids.  Pointing over his shoulder, he opened his mouth to argue with her, but she suddenly let go of his arm.  Gary watched, puzzled, as her eyes closed for the few seconds it took her to reach whatever decision she was making.

"I'm coming with you."

Now Gary stared at her openmouthed.

"You- you- you can't.  I can't let, I can't let you do that.  You'll be safe enough here with Chuck, and I-"

"No."  Gary could see the terror in her eyes as she fought for control of her own mind.  She gave him a sickly grin.  "I'm having a hard enough time keeping an even keel in this wind.  I- I-" looking away for a moment, Meghan paused, then looked him full in the face.  "I want to stay with you.  Please."

He was running out of time.  Gary considered her for a moment, then nodded once.

"Okay."  He turned to Chuck, who had missed the entire exchange trying to get the spare out of the trunk.

"Hey, buddy, There's something I gotta go do, okay?"  He indicated the paper, and Chuck's concern was immediate.

"What do you have to go do in this weather?  And what about Meghan?"

"She's coming with me.  As for what I gotta go do, well, you'd probably rather not know.  Just wait here for us, okay?  Don't come after us, whatever you do." He held Chuck's gaze until Chuck nodded reluctantly.  Gary grabbed Meghan's hand as they took off, running back the way they had come.

************************************

"Damn!"  The playground in sight, Gary could see nothing of the kids that had been there less than 10 minutes ago.  Sliding to a stop on the edge of the weed filled yard, Meghan gasping beside him, he pulled the paper out of his coat, fighting the wind as he desperately sought information on where the kids might be.  There!  The article stated that the bodies had been found in a nearby field, buried in wreckage from the school, the children evidently having sought shelter inside the building itself.   Which meant right now they must be on the other side of the playground somewhere.  Suddenly, he heard them.  It only took a second to spot them after that, running up and down the teeter-totters, oblivious to their imminent danger.

"Come on!"  As he seized Meghan's hand the wind snatched the paper out of his other hand.  Gary clutched at it, but it was gone almost immediately, blossoming into myriad white blooms across the adjacent field.  There wasn't time to mourn it's loss.  Checking his watch, he pulled Meghan with him toward the children, almost falling down with her as she tripped and plunged to her knees.  Turning to help her up, his heart sank.  Hunched over where she had fallen, she stared glassy-eyed into the approaching storm, all color gone from her face.  Not now!   Gary was torn between protecting Meghan, frozen into whatever nightmare the wind had conjured for her this time, and the children, happily shrieking as they chased each other up and down the wooden see-saws.  Suddenly, Meghan's gaze broke away from the forbidding vista above them, and fastened vaguely on his face.

"Where's Eddie?"  She demanded, climbing to her feet and dusting off her hands.

Gary stared at her.  "Huh?  Wha- wha- what do you mean,  where's Eddie?'"

Her face contorted with concern, she grabbed his arm.

"He was right here, a minute ago.  You aren't supposed to be here.  Where's my Mom?  Where's Eddie?"  Gary was baffled.  Meghan didn't seem to notice, as she turned to run from the playground, ostensibly to go searching for "Eddie."  Hustling after her, Gary caught her arm and swung her around to face him.  She struggled against him, but he didn't make the mistake of letting go this time.  Instead, he put his face right down into hers.

"Meghan!  Listen to me!  It's Gary, remember, Gary?"  She stopped struggling, and stared at him, confused. *Well, that makes two of us,* Gary thought.

"Why- why are you here?  Mom wouldn't send you to get us.  Where's Eddie?"  Almost screaming in the wind, Meghan reached up to push her wildly blowing hair out of her face.  Gary still held her shoulders, and he stared intently into her eyes, determined to break whatever dream she was locked in.

"Look, Meghan, I don't know who you think I am now, or who Eddie is, or where your Mom is, but I do know that there are 3 little kids over there and they're all gonna die in about two minutes if we don't get over there to help them!"  Her face crumpled as he shook her roughly, but Gary didn't know what he was going to do if he couldn't get her to snap out of it.  He looked around anxiously for the kids.  They were gathered in a group now by the see-saws, one of them pointing to the south.  Gary, following the child's cue, turned to see a large funnel cloud descending from the sky.  His stomach dropped, and he turned back to Meghan.  Her glassy stare suddenly flickered, and she seemed to see him again.

"Gary?"

"Yeah, now come on!"  Releasing her shoulders, Gary dragged her by one arm toward the children.  Meghan gasped as she saw the approaching twister, and he spared it a glance as, heart pounding in his throat, he halted in front of the kids.  The tornado had dropped all the way to the ground, and was now spinning and dancing their way.

"Come on!"  He reached out to grab the smallest child's hand, and was completely confounded when the little girl snatched her hand away from him and hid behind her older sister.

The three of them huddled together as the older two children, a boy and a girl about six and eight years old, respectively, frowned at Gary.

"We don't talk to strangers, Mister."  The older girl spoke.

"Huh?"  Gary couldn't believe it.  Of all the times to -- He pointed behind him, to the southwest.  "Look, look, you see that tornado?  It's gonna be here any minute, and- and-"

Suddenly, the little girl noticed Meghan.

"Aunt Meghan!  Evan, it's Meghan!"  All three kids swarmed past Gary to surround his bewildered companion.  "Where have you been?  We thought you were dead!  Uncle Gary has been so--"   Gary cut them off.

"Look, look, we don't have time for this!  Come on, we have to get you somewhere safe!"

"The school!" a chorus of voices began to yell at him, but he just shook his head.  The twister was getting closer, and debris was beginning to swirl about them.  There wasn't much time.  Gary searched desperately for shelter-- there!  The merry-go-round!  He quickly picked up the youngest girl - she didn't shy away this time - and shepherded them all before him.  The other two children clung to a dazed Meghan's hands as they staggered through the whirling dust and debris towards the rapidly spinning disk.

"Get under here, all of you, now!"  Setting the child down, he grabbed the bars of the merry-go-round and dragged it to a stop.  Eyes glued to the approaching tornado, nobody had moved. "Move it!  Get under here, now!"  The kids scrambled suddenly, all of them squeezing under the disk without complaint.  Gary was motioning Meghan to go next, when the little boy's head popped out.

"Ethan!" he wailed.  "He went to find a way into the school!"  Gary's gut wrenched.  The second headline!  There were *four* children!  Fighting against the wind that wanted to push the merry-go-round into action, Gary looked desperately for the other child, nowhere in sight.  Turning to Meghan, he nodded at the merry-go-round.

"Come on!  I'll go find him!  You have to get under there and hold the disk still, or it'll take their heads off."  He could barely hear himself in the roar of the approaching tornado.  Meghan shook her head, her skirt and hair blowing wildly about her.

"No, no, I can't.  I don't think I'm strong enough; I couldn't hold it.  You have to, Gary."  Her tormented gaze held his for a moment.  "I'll go find Eddie."  She took off, stumbling in the steadily rising gale.

"No, hey, I can't let you do that!  Meghan!"  Gary stared after her.  "Hey!  You're looking for the wrong kid!"  Then the tornado, moving ever closer, gave him no choice.  Holding tightly to the bars as the merry-go-round began to drag him around in the increasing tempest, he slid down on his back next to it.  Feeling for the metal seams underneath the disk with his foot, he found one and quickly braced both feet against it.  Preventing the disk from moving took all his strength.  Meghan had disappeared, and there was no sign of the boy Ethan.  Grabbing another seam with his hands, Gary slid under the merry-go-round as three frightened pairs of eyes watched from the dimness of its shelter.

"Get your heads down!" he yelled, afraid that even under here blowing debris could injure them.  Then, arms and legs straining to keep the metal disk above them still, he watched alone as the world about him turned inside out.

Part 7
 
 

Meghan ran through the whirling dust, searching for Eddie.  Wind whipping her long copper hair across her face, she stopped to pull it out of her eyes, scanning the yard as she did so.  Doggone it, she could have sworn she saw him right here a minute ago!  Stamping her foot, she turned in an impatient circle.  Now where did he disappear to?

Something moved in the corner of her eye, and Meghan turned toward the house in the distance.  Mr. Robinson's pickup was pulling out of their driveway.  Ambivalently, she watched him drive away.  She knew Papa liked him, and Momma liked him a lot, but he had sure spoiled her and Eddie's afternoon.  It wasn't every day school let out early, unexpectedly.  Andrew, in sixth grade this year, had to stay for band rehearsal, so Meghan and Eddie caught the bus home alone, making big plans to resurrect the Lincoln Log fort Andrew's puppy had destroyed the other day.  The battle had only been half over, and she and Eddie had been in a heated debate about who should win, the cowboys or the Indians.  Still arguing when they burst through the kitchen door, they had lapsed into a confused silence at the sight of Momma and Mr. Robinson.  Meghan closed her eyes as she rubbed her right arm.  She didn't know why the two adults were standing so close together like that, or why Momma had dropped Mr. Robinson's hand only to grab Meghan's arm so hard it hurt.  She wouldn't let go, either, not even when Meghan started crying.  Her arm still hurt, though with it's own pain or the pain in the little girl's heart, who could say?

Turning her back on the house, Meghan walked on to the old barn.  Momma had shoved them out of the kitchen, telling them to go play out in the farmyard.  Under no circumstances were they to come back to the house until she came to get them.  Eddie was through the utility room and almost out the door when Momma, still holding Meghan tightly by the arm, stopped in the shadow of the washer and, bending down, grabbed her by both arms.  Eyes hard, she had hissed in Meghan's face, "You don't tell anyone about this, you understand!  If you ever tell anyone about this, something really bad will happen, and it will be all your fault!  You make sure Eddie doesn't talk either!  You understand?"  Meghan understood, alright.  As this stranger wearing her momma's face released her, she ran to the door where Eddie waited.

Sullenly, they walked out of the house.  The afternoon muggy and hot, they hashed out the remainder of their argument lying on the soft sloping pasture just behind the barn, heedless of the gathering clouds above them.  Once the victory was satisfactorily divvied up between both parties, they started a game of hide and seek.  A cooling wind had come up with the clouds, and continued to grow, but the children were used to the wind; it didn't bother them.  Right now Meghan was seeking Eddie, and she was getting just a little bit frustrated at not being able to find him.  Standing at the corner of the barn, she slowly scanned the area one more time.

There he was!  And, and, the silly boy, he wasn't even hiding!  How stupid did he think she was, just standing out there in the open loft door?  Just because it was up high, did he think she wouldn't look up there?  Something about his fixed stance made her uneasy, though, and she turned to see what held his attention.  Meghan's stomach lurched as she saw the oncoming twister, and she ran frantically for the barn, screaming her brother's name.

**********************

Swearing volubly, Chuck lay half under his car, reaching for the last remaining lug nut.  Of course it had stopped rolling just out of his reach.  Shifting further under the car, he squinted in the dim light to be sure he was aiming in the right direction.  He was gonna have a hell of a dry cleaning bill after this - no, Gary was gonna have a hell of a dry cleaning bill.  Mr. Hobson could foot this little adventure out of his own pocket.  Chuck was only out here because of Gary's unreasonable infatuation with little Missus Muffet.  If it wasn't for her, he would have been comfortably seated on his bar stool at McGinty's right now, and - assuming it was a normal day in their lives - Gary would be out saving the world, while Chuck made like God in his personal domain of the bar.  Yep, Gary *deserved* the cleaning bill.  Serve him right for dragging Chuck into this mess with him.

Catching the errant nut with the tips of his fingers, Chuck held his breath as he coaxed it the rest of the way into his hand.  "Gotcha!"  Trying to identify the sudden roaring noise he heard, Chuck lifted his head a bit too far, smacking his forehead on the chassis above him.  "Ow!"  He lay flat a moment and took Gary's name in vain a few more times, before sidling the rest of the way out from under his car.  Sitting up, he caught sight of the tornado just as it touched ground.

Eyes wide in horror, Chuck stared as the twister began its destructive dance across the land.  He knew now where Gary and Meghan had gone, and why Gary had made him promise not to follow.  Nervously fumbling the lug nut, it caught on the second try, and Chuck wrenched at it with the tire iron, praying desperately Gary would be there when he arrived to pick up the pieces.

*************************

The tornado was gone.  In its wake reigned a strange, unearthly quiet, almost as unnerving as the roar of the tornado itself had been.  Gary slowly crawled out from under the merry-go-round, rubbing the cramps from his legs.  He, too, was silent as he surveyed the ruin around him.  The children followed him, staring with mute horror at the destruction they had survived. They were all of them covered with dust and little pieces of debris the wind had driven into their shelter.

The school was gone.  The playground would host no more happy children.  All that remained of the abandoned building was the foundation and a small pile of debris at the back of the lot.  The swing set and monkey bars were twisted into macabre sculptures, the see-saws torn asunder.  The only piece of equipment to survive the maelstrom was the merry-go-round that had sheltered them.

There was no sign of Meghan or the child she had gone to seek.

The youngest girl began to sob.  "I- I- I- want Mommy!"  Tears made little runnels down her dusty face as her sister picked her up and attempted to soothe her.  Swallowing, Gary turned to the children, just as Chuck's car screeched to a stop on the road.

"Gary!  Hey, Gary!"   A frantic Chuck jumped out of his car and ran toward them.  "You're all right!  Oh my God, when I saw that twister, I thought sure -- Where's Meghan?"  Gary shook his head, grabbing Chuck's arm.  With a sideways glance at the children huddled behind him, he lowered his voice to where he hoped only Chuck could hear him.  "I don't know.  There was another kid, their brother, and she went to find him."

Aghast, Chuck took in the devastation around them, then met Gary's haunted gaze for a moment.  He swallowed.  "Hey, I'm sure she's alright.  What's the paper say?"

Gary shook his head.

"I lost it, in the wind."

"Oh."

"Look, you stay here with the kids, okay?  I'm gonna go look for Meghan and the other boy."

Chuck eyed the disheveled children warily.

"I've got a better idea: How  bout you stay with the little darlings and I'll go look for Meghan."  Chuck sighed as Gary glared at him.  "Didn't think so.  Okay.  Should I call 911 or something?"

Already walking away, Gary pointed back at Chuck.

"Yeah, you do that.  Tell someone to call their parents."  He paused as the three children turned forlornly toward him.  "You stay here with Chuck, okay?  He's gonna call for help, and someone will be here soon to take you home."

The little boy looked at him fearfully, near tears himself.

"What about Ethan?  What about Aunt Meghan?"

Gary hesitated, then offered what comfort he could.

"I'm gonna go look for them now.  They're probably alright, somewhere close by, but maybe still hiding."  The children's disbelief showed plainly, and, given the damage they stood amidst, Gary didn't blame them.  "Look, you all thought your Aunt Meghan was dead once already, and she wasn't.  Just because you don't see them right now doesn't mean that they aren't okay..."  His voice trailed off, but the children willingly grasped his frail reassurances.  The older girl nodded.

"We'll wait here, Mister."

Gary nodded gratefully.  "Good girl."  With a nod to Chuck, he turned and quickly disappeared into the wide, raw wound gouged across the land by the twister.  Behind him, Chuck and the children kept a skeptical eye on each other.  Pulling out his cell phone, Chuck flipped it open and dialed.

"911, emergency dispatch," came the tinny voice in his ear.

"Yeah, I'd like to report a tornado."

***********************************

Gary hesitated at what ten minutes ago had been a line of tall cottonwood trees.  Now it was a mass of tumbled trunks, branches and limbs snapped and snarled around them.  Quickly searching through the jumble, he came across a child sized white tennis shoe.  Something glinted nearby, nearly buried in the dirt.  Shoe in hand, he quickly unearthed the item: one of Mehan's earrings. Clutching the bright golden trinket tightly in his fist, Gary sagged against a downed tree trunk, his worst fear now refusing to be put down:  even if Meghan had found the boy, they had been unable to find shelter, and were caught up in the tornado.

Still holding the shoe, Gary pushed away from the tree.  He carefully stowed the earring in his inner coat pocket.  A few strides farther on, he stood indecisively in the gap between two ruined trees.  Against distant clouds, the twisting black funnel could yet be seen, halfway up in the sky.  Heart sinking even lower, Gary scanned the wide path of destruction laid out before him. Of all the times to lose the paper!  Without it he had no idea where the twisting winds might have deposited one copper-haired woman and a boy.   The tornado's ruinous route led north-east, as they usually did, and everywhere there was the scattered rubble and debris of its passing: building material from barns and houses, ruined farm equipment, more trees...  Suddenly, Gary's attention was caught by a lone, uprooted tree, picked up and twisted and ripped in half before being deposited on the other side of the field before him.  In the tangle of branches on one end he could just make out a bright blue shape.

It took far too long to cross the field.  Breath burning in his lungs, Gary finally arrived at the wreckage.  Meghan lay huddled on one side with her back to him, beneath the interior branches of the tree.  There was no sign of the boy she had gone in search of, until, crawling closer through the web of tree limbs, he saw a child's white shoe protruding from beneath her hip.  Gary forced his way through the remaining branches over to where he could see her face.

"Meghan?"  Her hair covered her face.  Dropping the shoe as he knelt in front of her, Gary pulled it gently back.  Eyes closed, her entire body spattered with mud and dust, she looked as peacefully asleep as she had this morning in his bed.  Her arms were wrapped tightly around a 10- or 11-year-old boy, clad in jeans and a brown plaid shirt, his head and shoulders covered with the rest of her hair.  Neither of them showed any overt signs of life.  Tentatively reaching for Meghan's neck to check her pulse, Gary jerked back as the boy suddenly began to heave and struggle free.

"Hey, hey, be careful!"  Afraid the child's struggles would exacerbate any injuries Meghan might have, Gary carefully worked Meghan's deathgrip on the boy loose.  He didn't even want to think about the baby she was carrying.  Freed from her embrace, the boy sat up as Gary carefully dug his foot out from under Meghan's body.

"You all right?  You're not hurt anywhere?"  Huge dark blue eyes stared at Gary out of a shocked white face. The boy's hair was the same exact deep copper shade as Meghan's.  He even shared her freckles, Gary thought, then realized belatedly the younger girl over at the merry-go-round had the same copper and cobalt coloring as her aunt and her...brother?  It had to be, Gary thought, looking at the frightened face in front of him.

Swallowing the boy nodded, then shook his head.

"I'm alright, I think."  Gary looked him over once to be certain, then he and the boy both turned to Meghan.  "Is, is she dead?"  The boy's voice sounded shrilly in the silent field as he shivered next to Gary.

"I don't know."  Grimly, Gary reached once more to check for a pulse.  Her flesh was warm to the touch, and it only took a second for him to find the steady throbbing beneath her jaw.   "She's alive."  He traded relieved smiles with the boy, then turned back to Meghan.  A quick check revealed no visible injuries, but Gary was more concerned about internal wounds.  Breaking a couple of offending branches out of his way, he quickly unzipped his coat and put it over her.  As he did so, Meghan's eyes flickered open, and she moved, struggling briefly to sit up before crying out and grabbing for the arm she had been lying on.

"Hey, hey, take it easy!"  Gary caught her shoulder, easing her to the ground as she fell back limply.  Meghan stared blankly beyond him.

"Eddie..."  Her voice was a fractured whisper.

Troubled, Gary recognized her expression:  the same vacant look she had every other time she seemed to be losing the battle with the shadows in her mind.  Bleakly, he wondered if the tornado had completely severed Meghan's already precarious grip on reality.

"Meghan?  Meghan?"  He touched her face with one hand.  She flinched, and struggled to focus on him, adding head injuries to Gary's list of worries.  Shifting his weight he accidentally jostled her right arm.  Meghan cried out again, and Gary swore at himself as he checked her arm.  There was an unnatural bend in it, just above her elbow.  It hadn't been visible earlier because she had been lying on it.  Worried he had aggravated the break in freeing the boy, Gary realized there wasn't much he could do for her right now without moving her around more than he wanted to.

"Meghan, your arm is broken.  I need you to, I need you to lie still now, so you don't make it any worse, okay?"

Eyes closed, she didn't respond.

Gary swore again.  Studying the boy next to him, he considered his next move.  Ethan, uninjured or not, didn't look too steady on his feet.  Feet... He was missing a shoe.  Gary reached for the white shoe he had brought with him, offering it to the boy.  "I think this might be yours."

The boy stared first at the shoe, then at his half shod feet.  Reaching for the shoe without looking, he set it limply by his side, swallowing convulsively.  His face crumpled as he hiccuped, fighting the sobs that rose within him.  "She- she  grabbed me when the tornado started to pick me up and wouldn't let me go.  She held onto me even when the tornado threw us over here, and, and..."   His face paled even more.  Ethan closed his eyes, remembering his terror and struggling to control it.  "Now, my brother and sisters are dead, and Aunt Meghan might die, and it'll be all my fault--"

"Your brother and sisters are fine."  Gary interrupted roughly.  "And so far your aunt's still alive.  Don't go burying anyone yet."

Incredulous, the boy stared at Gary.  "You mean it?  They're alright?  Evan and Danica and Cara?  They're all okay?"  Hope and disbelief warred in Ethan's voice.

Gary nodded.  "Yeah, we hid under the merry-go-round, and they're all fine.  A little dusty and dirty, that's all."  Turning away from him, Gary took Meghan's hand, examining her pale face hopefully for any signs of returning consciousness.  He had done what the paper wanted, the kids were all fine.  So, why was Meghan lying here like this?  What more did the damn thing want? Gary didn't understand any of this, and he had nowhere to turn for clues.

Behind Gary's back, the boy's face crumpled again, this time with relieved sobs.

*********************************************************

The voices above her were faint, reverberating through her stunned mind as if she were underwater, and they on land above her.  An open door at her back, Meghan's thoughts were now suffused with a gentle light, granting a peace doubly welcome in the wake of recent storms.   She reached for the voices, pushing through the fog still faintly curling about her.  So familiar, they sounded again, and she grasped anxiously for names that weren't quite there yet... Gary!  Her heart's sudden leap of joy was tempered as the man spoke again.  No, not Gary;  the voice didn't sound quite right.  Who, then?  The other voice spoke, a young boy... Eddie!  Eddie, she had found him, she held on to him as tight as she could, he was-- but the voice wasn't Eddie's.  Eddie, he was... he was a long time ago, too long ago.  Meghan struggled through the shifting sands in her mind, searching for solid ground...

**********************************************************

Gary watched Ethan uncertainly as the boy wiped tears and nose with one sleeve, leaving muddy streaks across his face.  Unsure if he should send the still shaking boy for help, he didn't know what other choice he had.   Meghan appeared to be unconscious, but if she came to in the disturbed state of mind she had been in a minute ago -- he didn't think Ethan could control her if she became violent.  And, given past experience, that was altogether too possible.   With one last glance at Meghan's prone form, Gary came to a decision.  The boy was wiggling his shoe on, but he paid attention fast enough when Gary spoke to him.

 "Listen, Ethan? Is that your name?"  The boy nodded, and Gary continued.  "Can you find your way back to the school?"  The boy nodded again, and Gary spoke intensely.  "Okay, listen, my friend is there, he called for help.  It should be here any minute. The other kids--"

"What about Aunt Meghan?"

"I'm gonna stay here with her.  She shouldn't be moved right now.  You just go find Chuck - my friend's name is Chuck, and tell him exactly where we are.  *Exactly* where we --"

"Ethan?  Oh my God, Ethan?"

*******************************

Meghan struggled to sit up, ignoring the pain in her arm.  Ethan and a vaguely familiar man were looking at her worriedly.  The man's hand was on her shoulder, preventing her from rising.

"Hey, hey, slow down.  Your arm's broken.  You shouldn't move around too much."  He sounded relieved and concerned all at once.  Meghan had eyes only for the boy.  Her left hand shot out to touch Ethan's face.

*******************************

"Ethan!  You're all right!"  At his nod, Meghan closed her eyes, sinking back into the debris, tears running muddily across her face.  Gary, encouraged she was at least somewhat coherent this time, turned back to Ethan.

"Your brother and sisters are with my friend at the playground, by the merry-go-round.  You wait there with them, and when help gets here, you tell them exactly where we are, okay?"

Ethan nodded once more. Finishing quickly with his shoe, he scrambled away through the branches.

Gary's coat had slipped off Meghan's shoulders, and he pulled it up over her again.  Meghan opened her eyes, frowning in concern.  Glancing at the wreckage around them, she suddenly became agitated.

"Ethan?  Where's Ethan?"  Her voice rose in panic as she tried to get up. Gary's brow knit with concern.  Meghan seemed to be having difficulty tracking in real time.

"Hey, hey, whoa, whoa.  You've got to lie still."  She didn't object when Gary gently pushed her back; the pain in her arm seemed to have reestablished some tenuous connection with the real world for her.  "Ethan's fine; he went to get help.  Now, you, you just lie still okay?"  He adjusted his coat closer about her as she nodded. "Everything's gonna be alright."  Gary smiled encouragingly when he noticed her gaze resting dubiously on his face.

"Do, do I know you?  Who are you?  Where's Gary?"

Stunned, Gary could only stare back at her for a moment.  Swallowing, he said, "Um, well, um he's, he's on his way, okay?  Ethan went for help. They should be here any minute."  He hoped fervently that it was true.  "And yeah, you know me.... sort of."

She nodded again, closing her eyes.  Then, suddenly, "Gary?" she whispered, shivering slightly.

"Yeah?"  He grasped her hand as she held it out, his eyes searching hers.  She seemed aware of him now, but somehow... shattered.

"You, you brought me home, right?"

"Yeah. We didn't quite make it all the way, but you'll be there soon."

"Eddie..."  It was a plea, whispered so low Gary almost couldn't hear her.  Frowning, he bent nearer, just as the tears started to flow from beneath her lashes.  "He, he never came home; Eddie didn't come home.  Ethan..."

"Ethan is fine," Gary said firmly.  "He went for help, remember?"  Confused, Meghan was considering that when she suddenly blanched a shade paler than Gary thought a living person could.  Her eyes slid shut, and Gary, reaching out to brush a stray hair from her face, panicked.

"Meghan?  Meghan!  Come on, don't go out on me now!  Meghan!"

Slowly her eyes opened.  No longer empty, Gary was stunned at the pain boiling over in the dark blue irises.  Shuddering, she took a deep breath, then looked bleakly away into the overcast sky.

"I remember, Gary.  I remember... everything."

**************************************************

Gary rode with Meghan in the ambulance that arrived shortly after three county sheriff's deputies and a fire truck.  Overwhelmed by the tide of returning memory, she held desparately to Gary's hand as the paramedics and firemen carried her stretcher across the field.  At the school yard, nobody but Meghan wanted him with her.  Her immediate concern when a deputy's hand on his chest prevented Gary from following them over to the ambulance escalated abruptly into hysteria when they began to load her into the vehicle without him.  In the interests of keeping Meghan calm without having to sedate her, his presence was grudgingly allowed by the senior paramedic. The children were whisked off in one of the deputies' cars.  The remaining deputies split up: the dark, heavyset one making absolutely certain that Chuck was going to follow them to the hospital, the other, taller, blonder and slimmer than his partner, climbing into the front of the ambulance with the driver.

Nobody noticed the yellow tabby cat that ran out from under the ambulance as it started up. A fragment of newsprint - just a headline, really - fluttered by, dropping to the disturbed earth near the cat.  Tail twitching, the cat walked over and sat on the piece of paper, watching the departing vehicles in silence.

In the bustle of their arrival at the hospital, Gary found himself efficiently separated from the now unconscious Meghan.  As the hospital staff wheeled her into an examining room, his elbow was gripped by the tall deputy who rode in with them, and he was escorted down a nearby hall almost before he could protest.  "If you'll just wait in here, sir?"  It wasn't really a question, and Gary was almost propelled into the cramped office, half expecting to hear the door locked behind him.  A dingy skeleton on a stand grinned at him from behind a cluttered desk.  Barely visible in the mess, a sign on the desk read  Dr. J.H. Todd, M.D.'  Nearby were two leather chairs, one pushed back against the wall beneath a sealed window.  Large, gray metal filing cabinets dominated two walls of the office, their tops, like the top of the desk, covered with stacks of papers and manilla folders.  Outside the window a tree shaded a small expanse of green lawn.  In the parking lot beyond the grass, the afternoon sunlight was glinting off the cars as the storm clouds dissipated.  Furtively trying the door - it was unlocked - Gary walked over and dropped wearily into the chair by the window.

A moment later, Chuck was thrust through the door by the second deputy sheriff, Gary's escort standing just behind him.  As the door was pulled shut, Chuck looked at his friend in askance.  Gary shrugged.  Raising one eyebrow, Chuck then turned to examine their temporary... holding cell.

"I've got a bad feeling about this, Gar.  They're not exactly jumping for joy to see us."

Gary just shook his head and sighed.  His concern for Meghan rapidly being overridden by the uncertainty of their own situation, he once again wished futilely for the paper.  With it he would at least have had some idea what might be going on.  In light of the rude welcome they were getting from the local authorities, Gary was beginning to think he should have listened to Chuck in the first place, and let the police bring Meghan home.  Then she might still be alright, but.. then the children - her nieces and nephews -  would have died...  Gary scratched the back of his neck and, sighing, leaned his head back against the window.  Still covered with dust and debris from the tornado, his neck and back were beginning to itch abominably.  Add to that his interrupted sleep last night, the emotional letdown after the tornado, the stress of not quite getting Meghan home, and he was suddenly finding it hard to think clearly.

Chuck studied his friend in silence, then plopped down in the empty chair to wait beside him.

Subjectively forever, in reality they waited only about 10 minutes.  The office door opened to admit a tall man in a dark suit.  Pausing halfway into the room, he continued a conversation with someone in the hall.

"...what I want, okay?  Oh, and I want to know the results as soon as he's done."

There were assenting noises from the hall outside, then he pushed the door shut behind him.  Tall, with reddish-brown hair, the man looked to be in his late thirties. His suit wrinkled, and his tie half undone, he maneuvered his way past the filing cabinets to the other side of the desk to sit in the one remaining chair.  Once there, he silently scrutinized the two men across from him for an uncomfortable moment.  His eyes were blue, the same very dark shade of blue that Gary had seen for the second time only this afternoon, when he met Ethan.  They were also increasingly hostile as he stared at Gary.  Chuck looked worriedly at his friend as the stranger finally cleared his throat.

"I'm Andrew Wallace, district attorney here.  I'd like to know exactly who you two are, and when and where you found my sister."

Gary opened his mouth, closed it, and looked helplessly at Chuck.  Rolling his eyes in return, Chuck sighed as he slumped deeper in his chair.  He silently began composing a phone call to Marissa, telling her to mortgage McGinty's and come bail the two of them, - no, hopefully only Gary - out of the county hoosegow.

To Have and To Hold - Part 8
by inkling
 

"So?  How'd it go?"  Marissa and Spike were waiting when Gary stalked morosely into his loft that evening, followed by a subdued Chuck.

"You don't want to know," Chuck replied as Gary threw his coat at the chair and headed without comment for the fridge.  The coat slid slowly to the floor as he pulled out a beer and opened it.  Taking a sip, Gary walked over, kicked his coat aside and flopped into his chair.  Staring balefully at nothing, he took a long pull on his beer.  Silently, Chuck closed the door.  Hands in his coat pockets, he eyed Gary uncertainly for a moment before moving towards the couch.

Eyebrows arched in surprise, Marissa listened carefully, wanting to be certain Gary and Chuck were the only ones who had come in.  Rubbing Spike's neck thoughtfully for a moment, she turned toward Chuck when she felt the couch shift beneath his weight on the other end.

"Chuck?  You, um, want to elaborate?"

"What's to tell?  Other than the tornado Gary and Meghan almost got killed in, and the fact her brother happens to be an over-zealous DA who was itching to lock Gary up from the moment he laid eyes on him, nothing happened."  Both Chuck's feet thumped on the coffee table as he spoke, for which he earned a brief glare from a silent Gary.

Marissa frowned, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Tornado-- Lock Gary up?  Why?"

Gary scowled warningly at Chuck, who shrugged innocently.  "She'll find out sooner or later, buddy.  Might as well be from the horse's mouth."  Gary opened his mouth,  took a breath, then shut his mouth, grudgingly conceding Chuck's point.  Marissa was his friend, and embarrassing as it all was, she did deserve some answers.  Besides, she'd just corner Chuck later, when he wasn't around to object.  Chuck would be only too happy to dish out the sordid details without Gary there to make sure he wasn't inflating them.  Not that they needed inflating.  Shrugging sullenly, refusing to meet Chuck's sympathetic gaze, Gary nodded shortly.

"Sure.  Go ahead.  Tell the world, why don't ya?"  His voice bitter, he took another drink of his beer.  Chuck turned to Marissa, hesitating.  He could still hardly believe it himself.

"Well, the DA started by wanting to charge Gary with kidnaping and rape.  Who knows where he might have gone from there.  Course, he had to drop the rape  cause there was no evidence, other than the fact Gary and Meghan spent 4 nights together in his apartment.  Alone."  Chuck gave Gary an ‘I told you so' look, earning another glare in return.

Marissa's jaw literally dropped in amazement.  Spike whined and nuzzled her hand as its rhythmic movement behind his ears faltered.  Absently, she patted him, trying to get her thoughts around Chuck's revelation.

"You're kidding, right?  He didn't really think that Gary, he didn't think..."

Chuck answered when Gary didn't.

"Yeah, well he did think it.  Took some fast talking and a call to Crumb to get us out of there without mortgaging McGinty's for the bail.  Thank God Crumb was home and not out drowning bait somewhere."  Chuck rubbed his face wearily with one hand.  "If he hadn't been home, Wonder Boy over there would have been cooling his heels tonight in an all expense paid suite, courtesy Minter Wells city jail."

His face flushing, Gary pretended not to hear Chuck's jibe, intently inspecting the label on his beer bottle instead.

"Crumb?"  Marissa shook her head.  "Why Crumb?"  This was getting more unbelievable by the minute.

 Chuck shrugged.

"Character witness.  We're just lucky they even let us call him.  Turns out he and Mr. Big Shot District Attorney Andrew A.  Wallace worked together when Wallace was just a young pup, cutting his teeth as an assistant DA in the city courts of Chicago."  Chuck stared thoughtfully at his feet.  "Guess that would explain the man's somewhat jaundiced view of his fellow man.  Though you'd think the guy would have shown a little appreciation, considering Gary had just saved three of his kids from a tornado.  Let alone the fact he'd already saved Meghan from who knows what kind of fate on the streets of Chicago."

"Is this for real?"  Marissa turned to Gary.

"Oh, it's for real alright."  Gary growled around his beer.

Chuck added, "And, it's not over yet.  Basically they released Gary under Crumb's recognizance.  DA's still waiting to talk to Meghan.  Jerk was practically salivating over talking her into pressing charges for something, anything.  He'll be standing over her hospital bed --"

"Hospital?"  Marissa's hands went out in front of her.  "Wait a minute.  How'd Meghan wind up in the hospital?  I thought you were going to take her home?"

"Yeah, so did we.  As usual, Gary's pet paper had other ideas.  First--"

"Look, Chuck, enough is enough, all right!?"  Gary's angry outburst startled both his friends into silence.  Impatiently rising from his chair, Gary stalked around to stand behind it.  He waved his beer first in Chuck and Marissa's general direction, and then toward the door.  "I don't- I don't- look, you two can just take your little gossip fest somewhere else, okay? Somewhere where I don't have to listen to it."  He turned away from their stunned expressions as he took another drink of his beer.

Marissa's eyebrows went up.  Gary was *never* that rude - at least, not to her.  She began to understand just how upset he was about the day's events.

Chuck, for once, saw that wisdom was the better part of valor.

"Yeah, sure, buddy, all right."  He stood, helping Marissa to her feet.  Gary resolutely ignored both of them, concentrating on his beer and the fact that his neck and back were itching like crazy again.  All he wanted to do was get into the shower and wash away the dirt and chaff the day had plastered all over him.

The door closed behind Chuck, and Gary stood for a moment without moving.  He knew Chuck and Marissa would spend the evening worrying about him, picking at what had happened till it fell to pieces like a threadbare quilt in their hands, but he didn't want to deal with anybody's concern right now.  Moving over to the window behind the couch, Gary leaned one arm against the frame and stared out, not really seeing the city lights glittering against a clear twilight sky, not really knowing whether to laugh or cry.  He felt utterly and completely betrayed: by the paper; by Chuck -- whose CYA  attitude had really started to bug Gary about half way through the interview with Meghan's brother.  Interview?  No, interrogation was more like it.  Gary had a hard time believing the guy was even related to Meghan.  Unless - and the way the day had gone this was probably the truth anyway - the woman he had spent the weekend with, the woman he had poured his deepest fears and hopes out to, the woman who had made him believe someone could want him just for who he was and nothing else, that woman was a figment of her own imagination. The family resemblance might be stronger had he met Meghan when she was in charge of all her faculties.

Resting his head against his upraised arm, Gary closed his eyes and sighed.  He had been a fool.  God, what a fool he had been.  Meghan hadn't need him.  He hadn't needed her.  Wanted her, sure.  Like a selfish child wanting all the goodies without the work, he had accepted her assumed relationship with him, been happy to pretend... And look where it had almost gotten him.  A one way ticket to jail.  Gary didn't even want to think about trying to explain today's events to Renee.

Suddenly, Gary was angry; angry at himself, for playing the fool with Meghan.  Angry at the paper, as useless as that was.  Angry with Chuck, for being so selfish - and so insufferably right for once.  Angry with the idiot DA that was Meghan's brother.  Why couldn't the guy understand that Gary had just been trying to help out, that he had actually done them a big favor?  Among the ingrates Gary had run into during his career with the paper, District Attorney Andrew A. Wallace was the hardest to take.  And, he was angry at Meghan, for walking into his life and making him think about things he didn't really want to think about - not to mention what they almost did togther last night.  Why did she have to pick him for her little fantasy?  What was it to her if he and Renee made it as a couple or not?  Her life was fine, or would be soon.  His had been, until she showed up.  Jerking away from the window with a muffled curse, Gary lifted his beer to finish it.  Reconsidering, he took two quick steps and gave the bottle his best pitch against the opposing brick wall.  The crash of breaking glass brought the cat out from under his chair, and Gary's ire was quickly focused on it.  He pointed a finger at it.

"This- this- this is all your fault!  You and that stupid paper of yours--"  The cat sat, tail curling around its feet, and stared yellowly at Gary.   He glared directly back at the cat, wanting to be sure the animal understood it was the object of his anger.  "You could have at least warned me.  You know, put a headline in that, that, that paper of yours, like you do for everybody else who's gonna get into trouble.  How come I'm the only one you don't bother to warn?"

The cat blinked once, then mreeowed.

"Aw, hell.  Look at me!  I'm arguing with a cat.  A stupid cat!"  Throwing his hands up in disgust, Gary headed for the broom.

**********************************************

Tossing restlessly in bed that night, the events of the afternoon replayed continuously in Gary's mind:  His anger when Wallace had accused him of "ulterior motives" for "keeping" Meghan for the weekend, and having "taken advantage" of Meghan's mental condition.  His growing sense of fear when he began to realize just how serious Meghan's brother was about charging him with something - anything; fear that fed on his anger at himself for almost giving Wallace the smoking gun he needed.  Guilt about last night's encounter had been at the forefront of his own thoughts, and he had been certain the DA could smell it like a hound on a blood trail.  If he and Meghan had...  Gary pushed the thought away.  They hadn't, and that was that.  Neither one of them had lost their head for more than a minute or two.

Settling with one arm behind his head, Gary stared at the night around him.  Topping off what had arguably been one of the worst days of his life was the fact that he had no idea how Meghan was doing.  Once Crumb had vouched for him over the phone, the sheriff's deputies had hustled them through the hospital doors and out to Chuck's car without so much as a by-your-leave.  Gary's inquiries about Meghan's condition were met with stubborn silence.  As they were climbing into Chuck's car, a Jeep Wagoneer had come screeching to a halt across the parking lot.  Positive it was the same one they had seen in Aurora that morning, Gary had hesitated, one leg in the car.  All he could make out at that distance, however, was that the driver was male, about Gary's own height with dark hair.  The man had run into the hospital as the deputy sheriff reached out to "help" Gary the rest of the way into the car.  Irritably shrugging off the deputy's hand, Gary slid into the car, and he and Chuck had driven home to Chicago in silence.

I suppose I should be grateful for small favors Gary grumbled to himself.  Chuck was not known for his sensitivity to other people's moods or needs.  His restraint in the car tonight had been nothing short of miraculous.

Gary let out an involuntary "oomph!" as the cat jumped up on his stomach, stepping delicately over to curl up beside him, in the crook of his arm where Meghan had slept.  Gary absently scratched its neck.

"Yeah, I miss her too," he whispered in answer to Cat's mreeow.  Imaginary relationship or not, his apartment echoed with Meghan's absence tonight.  Her earring, remembered as he finally hung up his coat just before climbing into bed, lay on his nightstand, glinting softly in the streetlight that filtered in his window.

Somehow,  in the midst of the turmoil in his thoughts and his heart, the cat snuggled close, Gary finally fell asleep.

***********************

She was running, pelting pell mell toward the house, Eddie's hand clasped tightly in her own, dragging him along with her when he tripped and fell, refusing to let him quit or lag behind.  Refusing to let him be taken by the howling wind snatching at them as they ran.  Now she could see the house, with the mound that was the storm cellar in the back yard, and her mother, running frantically toward them from the heavy metal door she had just pulled open, the door to safety inside the cellar.  But Meghan wasn't running anymore, she was flying, whirling through the air with the dust and trees and Mrs. Waters' big black rooster that always chased them when they went down the road to pet the rabbits that she raised.

Meghan couldn't see her mother anymore, but she still held Eddie by one hand.  Stomach turning over as they were tossed by the winds, Meghan felt the fear, felt the terror rising to choke her throat and mind, the storm inside quickly rivaling the one without.  Eddie's hand slipped a little in hers, and she saw his open mouthed face, screaming - so was she, though she couldn't hear herself - as she clawed at him with her other hand, seeking desperately to hold on to him.  She had to hold on; Momma said it would be her fault if anything bad happened, because of what she had done today; it would be her fault so she couldn't let go - she wouldn't let go.  As the world around her went dark, Meghan was conscious of only one thing.  She would never let Eddie go.

"Meghan?  Meghan?"  The man's voice floated out of the darkness she had drawn around her mind once more, and she hesitated briefly before retreating further into the shadows, shaking her head.  She couldn't live with this; she couldn't face a world where she had been the cause of her brother's death.  But the voice didn't give up.  He sounded worried, troubled... Torn, Meghan half turned toward the voice, wincing at the light that entered her shadowed mind with it.  But the shadows drew her, the hidden places where she didn't have to be the one who had let go, the one who had let her brother die.  She hadn't let go, but it hadn't mattered.  Eddie was still gone.  It was her fault.  There was nothing she could do...  Meghan choked back a sob.

The voice still called, and suddenly, Meghan began to see into the light beyond the shadows.

Ethan... she had saved Ethan.  She couldn't save Eddie.  Her mother was wrong.  It wasn't her fault; Meghan had tried with all her 7-year-old might.  The winds had taken Eddie in spite of her effort, and in a sudden flash of insight she understood they would take her, too, forever,  if she didn't walk away now, away from Eddie, away from her guilt.  Slowly, reluctantly, Meghan the frightened child released her brother, and Meghan the adult turned to follow the voice calling her out into the light.

To Have and To Hold - Part 9
by inkling

Gary's foul mood mellowed towards the end of the week, as his thoughts pulled less and less often into the downward spiral of guilt, betrayal and anger that he lashed himself with the first day or so after the Meghan fiasco.  But, with the threat of impending action from Meghan's brother hanging over his head, Gary - at least, according to Chuck - was still grumpy and "piss-poor company" more often than not.

Friday Gary found the article about Meghan in the paper.  In the "Life" section, headlined MISSING WOMAN HOME AT LAST, her name wasn't mentioned specifically, but it didn't  take the cat sitting on it yowling at him for Gary to know who they were talking about.  Meghan's broken arm had required pins and surgery to set.  Because of that and concern for her unborn child, she had spent three nights in the hospital.  Released Friday morning - about now, he realized as he checked his watch - she was home and mother and baby were expected to make a full recovery.  The article made a big deal about her rescuing Ethan from the tornado, then talked about the rather fantastic events of last weekend.  It was the last half of the article that stunned Gary.

Meghan had an all too similar experience to the tornado Tuesday in her childhood.  Her family's farm was struck by a tornado when she was 7, and her mother and younger brother were killed.  Meghan survived, barely, found in a pile of debris in a field several hundred yards from the remains of their house.  This childhood trauma, together with the tornado she encountered on her way home a week ago, were credited as triggering the amnesiac episode that had left her in Gary's care.

Eddie...  That had to be her younger brother.  Gary sat abruptly on his couch, holding the newspaper before him without really seeing it.  The cat jumped up next to him and sat, purring.  Most people only dream their worst nightmares.  Meghan had lived hers - twice.  What was it Marissa had said?  That something so terrible happens it's easier to forget, to run away, than to deal with what's going on around them?  No wonder Meghan had been in such dire straights.  He knew what it was like to try to rescue someone, only to fail.  He was an adult, though, with an adult's perspective to help him cope with his failures - not that it was easy, even then.  Meghan had only been a child.  The paper didn't give any details, but Gary could guess what had happened.  She had tried to hold on to her brother, and she had failed.  Worse yet, she had lived.

And what had Meghan told him, Tuesday, just before the paramedics arrived?  "I remember everything."  He had thought she meant who she was, where she was from.  Now he wasn't so sure.

A knock on his door interrupted his musing.  He identified the vague outline of a person through the door's frosted glass window as Zeke Crumb.  Carefully folding the paper away first, Gary opened the door.

"Hey Hobson.  Good news.  That little gal you spent the weekend with refuses to press charges.  Looks like you're off the hook free and clear."

"She wasn't a  little gal,' and I didn't  spend' the weekend with her."  Gary corrected Crumb irritably.  The retired detective wasn't fazed a bit by Gary's irritation.

"Oh no?  Well, she spent the weekend with you, didn't she?  Here in your apartment?"  When Gary nodded reluctantly, Crumb snorted.  "Sounds like you spent the weekend together to me."

"It, it, it wasn't like that!  Anybody with any sense would have seen--" Crumb's finger was in Gary's face.

"No, Hobson, anyone with any sense would have taken that gal straight to the hospital or the police station.  I still can't believe you were stupid enough to bring her home with you. Fishman, yes, but you?  I would have thought you had more smarts than that."

"Look, I-I- I tried to take her to the hospital the first night.  She wouldn't go!"  Gary protested, indignantly.

"So?  You're bigger than she is, at least I'm assuming you are.  You had Fishman there to help, well, maybe not, but anyway, you could have and you should have taken her to the authorities from the word go.  It was a dumb stunt, letting her stay here for the weekend like that."  Crumb shook his head.  "You could have at least sent her home with Marissa!"

"Yeah, well if hadn't been for that jerk of a DA everything would have been fine.  I took her home as soon as we knew where she belonged.  He just had to get all bent out of shape about it."

"No way, Hobson, no way.  You can't tell me that you expected them not to think the worst when a complete stranger, a single man, no less, shows up four days later with the guy's sister?  They didn't know you from Adam's off ox, and they had every right - every right - to think what they did.  You're just lucky you ran into her brother first and not her husband."

Frustrated, Gary stared at the older man in silence.  Crumb was right, from a certain point of view.  Trouble was, Gary didn't look at life from the same point of view.  He had the paper, and the cat, and things didn't always work out the way the world in general thought they should.  There were reasons for what was - and what wasn't - in the paper, even if he couldn't always see them clearly.  Gary hadn't been so sure about Meghan after Tuesday, but given what he had read in the paper a few minutes ago, he was beginning to think he was wrong and the paper was right, again.   How could he explain to the completely unmystical Crumb that, in some way, Meghan had needed him; that he had needed her?  Gary sighed.  It just wasn't possible.

Crumb stared back at the man in front of him.  Good kid, but he'd be darned if he could ever figure the guy out.  Shaking his head, he turned towards the door.

"Well, I'm supposed to be downstairs mixing drinks.  I suppose you have to go do whatever it is you do.  I'll see you later."

Gary nodded as Crumb left, then reached for the paper again.  There was a 62-year-old grandma who was going to break her neck on a skateboard unless Gary arrived first.  Grabbing his jacket, he hurried out the door and down the stairs.

It didn't occur to Gary until later, much later, that the article in the paper hadn't mentioned him, or his role in the weekend's events - at all.  Once more he fought down a rising tide of bitterness, though he won the battle a little more handily this time than earlier in the week.

Then, Saturday night, Renee called and Gary's world started unraveling again.

*****************************

"She said what?"  Chuck's voice went up, drawing attention from a few too many of the surrounding patrons for Gary's comfort.  It was Sunday afternoon.  The paper taken care of for the time being, Gary was sitting on a stool at McGinty's, hat pulled low over his face, once again nursing a beer and a bad attitude.

"Keep your voice down, do you mind?"  He growled at Chuck, sitting on the stool next to him.  "And you heard what I said.  Renee said the best job offer she'd had so far was in Kansas City."

"Wow," was all Chuck could think of to say.  Forearms resting on the bar, he looked at his friend, blue eyes wide in sympathy.  "This just hasn't been your week, has it?  God or somebody decided it was ‘dump-on-Gary' time, and how.  You'd just better hope whoever's in charge decided it only needed to last a week and not longer."

Gary made a face at his friend over his half upraised beer bottle.

"Yeah, well thanks for the encouragement, buddy."

Chuck slapped Gary's shoulder as he rose.

"Yeah, sure, anytime."  He waltzed off to join Crumb and Marissa, debating some management point at the other end of the bar.  Gary took another drink of his beer and tried to pay attention to the baseball game on the TV over his head.  He had said he'd pick Renee up at the airport tonight, and he wasn't sure he really wanted to.  Once the possibility of Meghan pressing charges against him had passed, Gary had been looking forward to seeing Renee.  Like his Mom's original push to "Just go get the girl," Meghan had arrived to push him past his next hurdle, the stakes going up as he and Renee found their relationship getting more serious.  Gary sighed.  Now it looked like Renee was just going to be the latest woman to decide he didn't have whatever it was she wanted in a man.  The cat appeared at his feet, mreeowing, and Gary glared at it.

"This is all your fault, I hope you know.  If it wasn't for you and that tabloid you come with, I'd be just another normal guy, looking to live a normal life."  Yeah, but without the paper, he might not have met Renee at all.  Once again, the circles his life moved in defied reasonable explanations.  Shrugging, he gave up on the baseball game.  He couldn't even remember who was playing.  The cat jumped up on the bar in front of him.  Gary grabbed it and dropped it unceremoniously on the floor, looking up in surprise as Chuck suddenly materialized beside him, Crumb appearing next in front of him on the other side of the bar.  They weren't looking at him, though.   Confused, Gary turned to see what they were staring at, and nearly dropped his beer at the sight of Meghan greeting Marissa.

Dressed in a flowing khaki colored dress that set off her ruddy coloring, right arm encased in a cast and fastened in a sling about both her shoulders, she looked none the worse for her adventures last week, and slightly more pregnant.  Then Gary realized that Crumb and Chuck weren't staring at Meghan, they were staring at the guy with her.

Gary had been right.  Meghan's husband was about his height,  with the same not-quite-black hair.  A little slimmer than Gary, his face was also narrower, and he sported a short, neatly trimmed beard.  But, from his hair and his eyes - even the eyebrows - to his short black leather jacket and the jeans and tennis shoes he wore, the resemblance to Gary at first sight was uncanny.  On closer inspection the differences - including the St. Louis Cardinals sweatshirt visible under his open jacket - began to be obvious.  However, added to the almost identical names, it was no wonder Meghan, in her confused state of mind, had latched onto Gary Hobson as her protector.  She had remembered more than she realized.

Hudson must have felt their eyes on him, because his gaze suddenly locked with Gary's.  The two men looked at each other for a long moment, then Meghan's husband touched her arm gently as he whispered something in her ear.  Absently, she nodded, still talking to Marissa.  Leaving her side, he came down the bar towards Gary, gray eyes amused as he took in Chuck and Crumb's defensive positions around their friend.

"Gary Hobson?"  His voice was low, with a slight accent.  At Gary's wary nod, he held out his right hand.  "Gary Hudson."  He smiled wryly as he spoke, and Gary tardily took the proffered hand.  "I'm here to apologize for my brother-in-law and thank you for taking care of my wife."

************************************

Half an hour later, Gary found himself alone with Meghan in the office where he and the Hudsons had taken their conversation for privacy.  Seated on the green couch beneath the window, her husband beside her, Meghan had spent a good deal of that time apologizing profusely for her brother's treatment of Gary.  When he had tried to shrug it off, she refused to let him.

"It's not 'all right,' Gary.  He had no right to treat you like that, just to salve his guilty conscience."  Gary frowned briefly from where he straddled Marissa's chair, crossed arms resting on its back.  Whose guilty conscience was she talking about?  Meghan went on.  "You put your life on the line for his family when you didn't even know who we were.  Then you get treated like rat dung by the very man whose children you saved, and all I can think is that our family might be 7 people short if you hadn't been there for us."

Gary couldn't really think of anything to say.  He would rather just forget the whole thing.

Leaning forward, arms on his knees, Hudson spoke into his silence. "Don't worry, I told Andrew exactly what I thought of his petty little vendetta.  Probably covered most of what you would have said too, if he'd given you a chance."  Hudson smiled, his eyes twinkling as he rubbed the knuckles of his right hand.  "Been looking for an excuse to tell that jerk off for years, only Meghan would never let me do it.  ‘He's family.  We have to be nice to him because he's family.'" he mimicked in a high voice.  "She's sure changed her tune now, I can tell you."  Meghan cuffed her husband's shoulder indignantly.  Tensions dissipated in the general laughter that followed, though Gary found himself wondering if the man opposite him would be quite so friendly if he knew *everything* that had gone on last weekend.

Hudson had been certain all along that Meghan was alive. Her brother, on the other hand, had concluded she was a casualty of that Friday morning's tornado.  Brushing aside Hudson's concerns that a living and distraught Meghan might have left the area, he concentrated instead on a county-wide search for her body.

"Which is why he was so hard on you.  He hates being wrong, and he hated it even more because this time I was right and he wasn't.  He had contacts in Chicago who could have helped me search for her."  Hudson's voice was bleak.  "But he wouldn't be bothered to call them.  He knew Meghan was dead.  ‘Just like Eddie and Mom,' he kept insisting, and I couldn't convince him otherwise."

"Eddie?  That was your little brother?  The one you couldn't save?"  At Meghan's confused look, Gary elaborated.  "You talked about him, when you had that nightmare."  Don't dwell on that night, Gary, not with her husband sitting right there across from you...  "And, and, Tuesday, Tuesday you said you were going to go look for Eddie, instead of Ethan.  Then I saw the article in the paper, Fri- yesterday, in the Sun-Times. They didn't give any names, but it was pretty obvious it was about you.  It all just kind of added up..."  Gary shrugged.  Meghan smiled briefly, then nodded in answer to his question.  Gary turned back to Hudson, curious.

"What made you so sure she was still alive?"

"Well, this has happened twice before.  The first time, 12 years ago, she somehow made her way from St. Louis to St. Paul.  We still haven't figured out how."  Meghan looked embarrassed.  Hudson reached for her hand.  "She spent a week in jail and 2 weeks in the psych ward of the state hospital before someone finally got smart enough to check the missing persons reports for anyone matching her description.  The second time was 4 years ago.  We were out looking for her right away, so she didn't get far.  The police found her first, and she went berserk on them, not understanding ‘who they were or if their intentions were honorable,' as she put it later."  Gary smiled as Meghan gave him an apologetic look.  The scratch she left on his face last week was pretty much gone by now.  Hudson went on, unmindful of the exchange between the two. "Fortunately, I got there not long after, and she settled down enough that they let me take her home without charging her with anything."

Pausing, Meghan's husband studied their intertwined fingers for a moment before looking at Gary.  His gaze was sober.

"That's why you couldn't get her to go to the police or the hospital.  And, both times this has happened in the past, I've been the one to find her, to come get her... rescue her.  I think somewhere inside she believed I'd show up sooner or later to get her this time too.  Only, it wasn't me, it was you."  Hesitating a second, Hudson looked somberly at his wife, then back at Gary.  "If you hadn't taken care of her, there's no telling where she could have wound up or what would have happened to her."  Hudson was wrong.  Gary could have told him what would have happened to Meghan.  "I owe you more than I can ever repay you for returning her to me, Mr. Hobson."

"Um, well, that's all right...  I didn't really do that much..." Gary's voice trailed off awkwardly as he shrugged, shifting helplessly in his chair.  He was at least as uncomfortable with gratitude from those he helped as he was irritated with their ingratitude.  Meghan cut in.

"No, Gary, you did more than you think.  By just accepting me, playing along with me even, you kept me from losing control completely.  Because of you, I was able to hold myself together better than I did either of the other times.  Then, in the tornado Tuesday, I found myself face to face with my past.  After it was over, I realized how much it had ruled my mind and my life, more than I was willing to admit."  Meghan's eyes clouded.  "It took everything I had to hold onto Ethan.  If we hadn't been thrown clear when we were, I would have lost him... like I lost Eddie.  Another child could never have held onto anyone in a storm like that.  Eddie's death wasn't my fault.  I know that now.  And, the storms, the darkness in my mind, they're pretty much gone, since I woke up in the hospital Wednesday morning."  She smiled.  "And it's in large part because of you."

Gary, embarrassed again, suddenly realized something.

"Wait a minute...  You said 7 people short.  There were only the 4 kids and you..."  Meghan and Hudson both laughed at his confusion.

"Well, they did several ultrasounds while I was in the hospital.  Turns out I'm expecting twins."

***************************

After that, some sort of signal had passed between the two Hudsons, and Gary - Gary Hudson - had risen to his feet with some vague comment about wanting both a beer and to check on the game.  He left the office, evidently willing to leave Meghan to say whatever else it was she had to say to Gary in private.

In the uncomfortable silence that followed his departure, the cat appeared, jumping up on the couch with a mrreow.  Meghan smiled, stroking the cat with her good hand as it made itself comfortable in her lap.

"I have a cat at home, you know.  Boru is a big Russian blue, though, about twice the size of Cat here."  She rubbed hard under the cat's jaw, the rumble of its purr increasing in gratitude.  "You helped too, you know, little one," she addressed it.  "You helped too."

Chin resting on his crossed arms, Gary watched dubiously from his chair, not so sure he'd be willing to call the cat's contributions to his life  "help."

When Meghan met Gary's gaze a moment later, she smiled, and Gary found himself smiling in return.  This woman wasn't a figment of anyone's imagination.  Meghan in reality was much the same as his weekend companion had been.  Too bad it looked like all he would wind up with of both Meghan and Renee would be his memories of their briefly shared "warm fuzzies" - as Chuck so inelegantly called them.   Renee...Gary wrenched his thoughts away from that dead end and concentrated instead on the woman in front of him.

She was looking around the office now, shifting slightly on the uncomfortable vinyl couch.  Her brow furrowed briefly as she focused on the contented cat rumbling in her lap, then her glance swept the office once more, as if she were searching for inspiration in her surroundings, much as he had Tuesday morning in his loft.  Catching his eye then, she took a deep breath before speaking.

"Gary, I wanted to tell you... I talked to Gary - my Gary," she amended smiling, "about this weekend.  About everything."  Eyes serious, still stroking the cat, she waited for his reaction.

It took a minute.  Sitting up straight, Gary stared incredulously at her as the import of her words sank in.

"Everything?"  He glanced nervously over his shoulder toward the door out to the bar.

Meghan nodded, pushing the cat away as she leaned forward, shifting towards him where he sat 5 feet away.  Her voice was low, intense.

"He wasn't thrilled.  But, he also understands that you backed off as soon as you realized where things were going."  Gary looked away.  He wasn't so sure about that.  Unaware of - or ignoring - his doubts, Meghan continued, "If you had pushed at all that night, if you hadn't let me go, chances are I would have gone along with whatever you wanted to do.  I was so confused, so frightened, and you were the only thing holding me together at that point.  You could have convinced me to do anything... if you had wanted to."  Gary shifted uncomfortably in his chair.  He *had* wanted to... for a little while.  Meghan wasn't finished.  "You took care of me without taking advantage of me, and Gary understands that.  It's part of why he's here.  He was just so relieved that I'm home, and safe... He said that, that you and I, there's nothing to feel guilty about."  Her eyes searched his, her turn to will him to accept her words.

Gary looked away.  After berating himself all week for that lapse, for almost playing right into her brother's hands, here was Meghan - and her husband - both offering absolution for his - and her - momentary lapse.  He wasn't quite sure what to make of it.  Finally Gary nodded uncertainly, shrugging as he accepted the gift.

"Okay."  What else could he say?

Meghan smiled softly as their eyes met.  When Gary smiled tentatively in return, she leaned back against the couch.  Thoughtfully she examined the ring on her good hand for a moment, then her dark blue eyes caught his again.  Uncertainly, she began to speak.

"I wanted to tell you this Tuesday before we left, but I..."  Chewing her lower lip she eyed him nervously for a moment.  Gary waited quietly, not sure where she was going to go with her words.  Taking a deep breath, Meghan plunged in.  "Gary, you talked so much about not being able to live up to what your ex-wife, Marcia, wanted of you.  About maybe not being able to live up to what any woman might want from you.  Did you ever stop to think that maybe Marcia couldn't live up to what you are?"

Flummoxed, Gary stared at Meghan.  Eyes focused on her ring again, turning it nervously about her finger with her thumb,  she wasn't to the end of what she had to say yet.

"You have a big heart, Gary.  You fight it, but it's there, for anyone to see who will.  From what you told me, your wife, she wasn't willing to let you live by your heart.  She tried to make you small, make you fit in her world.  Only you couldn't.  So in her own smallness, she chose to throw you out, and then pushed all the blame off on you for her own decision."

Gary opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, and then looked away as he closed it one more time.  Just last weekend he had finally accepted that the meltdown of his and Marcia's relationship wasn't entirely his fault.  But, he had never even begun to think of anything remotely like this.  He wasn't sure he could grasp it now, with Meghan laying it all out so neatly for him.  He pushed impatiently at the cat now curling around his foot.  Besides, what about Renee?  She was dumping him, too...  Or was she?  Gary was silent, thinking about last night's conversation with Renee.  Suddenly he realized she hadn't said she was taking the job in Kansas City, she just said it was the best offer so far.  Maybe she wanted a better offer... from him.  He realized that Meghan was watching him nervously,  unsure if she had offended him or not with her words.  He shook his head.

"Um, no, well, no, what I mean is... I never, I never thought of it quite like that before." Embarrassed, he ducked his head, then looked up to find Meghan smiling at him.

"Well, you should."

*************************

He kept the earring.  Debating whether or not to throw it away all week, he hadn't been sure he wanted reminders of Meghan's presence in his life.  But, he wasn't sure he wanted to forget her completely either.  Maybe he would just mail it to her.  Saturday Chuck had seen it on his nightstand, and, opening his mouth to comment, found himself facing a Gary he'd rarely seen, a hard and angry Gary.

"No.  Don't even start, Chuck."  Wonder of wonders, Chuck didn't.

Tonight he was about to mention it when Meghan remarked that she lost both her earrings in the tornado.  They had been a Christmas gift from Gary - her Gary - and she felt spoiled because he had already ordered another pair for her.  Gary decided he could keep the one he had with a clean conscience.

The Hudsons were gone shortly after that, leaving a quiet and thoughtful Gary standing in the door.

"Well?  It looks like everything turned out okay."

Startled, Gary jumped.  Chuck had materialized at his elbow again, and Gary glared at him as he moved out of the way of some patrons just coming into the bar, then headed for the office without answering his friend.  He really had too much to think about to deal with Chuck right now.

Refusing to be shook off, Chuck followed him through the office door.  Gary gave up on escape from his friend's inquisitiveness for the time being and turned to face him.

"Well?  Let's share here, buddy.  What did they have to say?"  Eyebrows cocked, Chuck leaned against a desk, crossing his arms across his chest. "Mr. Muffet didn't seem to be in any hurry to take your head off, so Missus Muffet must not have given him all the details of your little tryst."

Exasperated, Gary thought he'd had just about enough of Chuck's insinuations.

"It wasn't a tryst, and she did tell him."  Hands in his back pockets, Gary waited for Chuck's reaction, still not sure he could believe it all himself.

Chuck stared at Gary as if he had just grown another head.

"She told him?"

Gary nodded. "She told him everything."

Staring at Gary as if he had 2 extra heads now, Chuck tried again.

"You're kidding, right?  Everything as in everything?" Chuck's eyebrows couldn't go any higher as Gary nodded at him.  Waving his hands once to emphasize his denial, Chuck said, "No way.  She couldn't have told him, or he wouldn't have been here tonight, except maybe to take off your head. He was way too friendly.  Me, if it had been my wife, I don't care who you were, I would have taken your head off."  Standing upright now, arms crossed again, Chuck looked as sanctimonious as he sounded.

"Yeah, well, that's you.  This was him.  Guess that makes a little difference, huh?"  Gary turned toward the stairs.

Blue eyes wide, Chuck shook his head.  "All I can say, my friend, is your luck amazes me.  You go from facing the possibility of who knows how long in jail for something you didn't do, to being bosom pals with the guy whose wife you almost slept with.  I should be so lucky."

"Yeah, well the operative word there, my friend, is 'almost.'  You gotta get that part down to have the rest.  And, I wouldn't exactly call it ‘bosom pals.'"  Coming to a quick decision, Gary forestalled Chuck's next comment with his own question.  "Hey, can I borrow your car? If I don't leave soon, I'm gonna be late picking Renee up."

Chuck's eyebrows went up again.

"You're still going to pick her up?  After what she told you last night?"  He dug his keys out of his pocket, dangling them for Gary to take.

"Yeah, well, don't you think maybe I should discuss it with her before I decide she really said anything?"  Gary stepped back to grab the keys as Chuck shrugged.

"Why?  She sounded pretty clear to me.  But hey, it's your funeral."

Almost through the door at the bottom of the stairs, Gary shook his head, suddenly unwilling to believe that Renee would do that to him.  She wasn't Marcia, not by a long shot.  Besides, since when should he start taking Chuck's advice about women?

"Be sure you fill the tank before you bring it back," Chuck yelled, as Gary took the stairs two at a time.  If he hurried, he'd have time to stash one earring and grab his coat before he left for the airport.
 

THE END

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