otherways

"...MIA, presumed dead..."

It repeats over and over in her head as she sits on the couch, glass of whiskey held in her hand. She's numb, withdrawn. She's shut everyone out - Chloe, Mic, Harriet, Bud - everyone. No one can help anyway. He's gone. The only one who can help now is God and he doesn't appear to be listening.

She's been waiting for that phone call for three days. By the third day, she just wanted any call - as long as she would be told he'd been found. The not-knowing was worse than him being dead.

The only positive thought she has is that now she knows how he felt before he learned what had happened to his father. She understands why he couldn't give up the search. The possibility. There was always that possibility his father was still alive, just like now, for her, there is the possibilty that he is alive. She can't let that go.


The rain hadn't let up at all and the streets were starting to flood. Water rushes past her feet, even on the short walk to her car. The possibility. She needs to know. She's going to find him.

"Dammit!" Her car is locked and the keys are in her apartment. She runs back to the door and discovers she's locked herself out of her apartment too.

Very much resembling a wet rat, she swears at the sky and sits down on the stoop. Her head drops to her hands and she starts to cry. Today is the first time she's let herself cry over Harm. Of course now she's not sure she will be able to stop.

"Damn you, Harm. You promised me. You promised me you'd be here and now look. Is this what you wanted? Did you not want me to marry him so badly that this was your way of getting me to call it off? You bastard. If you'd just talked to me. What the hell do you want from me?" she screams into the air, ignoring the people who stare and glare at her, thinking her insane. Maybe she is.

It would explain why she runs down the stairs and out into the street - into on-coming DC traffic -