From: Sara VanLooy Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: New Story: "Her Wings," 1/1 Date: Thu, 7 Dec 1995 15:29:45 -0600 And here I am again. This is a short piece. It's not got *any* original characters or concepts in it--just some character interaction. Its a crossover--though I'm not going to say with what just yet. None of the characters in this are mine. They are all used with love and respect but completely without permission. Rating--short and clean, but sad. Completely PG. Her Wings by Sara VanLooy The blast was loud and seemed to go on forever as the world turned black around her. She fell heavily to the floor, keys still clutched in one hand. Awareness was all but gone as time began to pour like a flooded river, pulling her along and only occasionally letting her glimpse what was passing. The paramedics looked grim as they lifted her onto a strecher. "Its a bad one! Call General and tell them we've got a Trauma case coming in!" She could sense his sadness as he brushed a lock of red hair away from her face. Doctors all around, working. On her. She could see them all. She could see herself--that was odd. Very odd. Someone said, "You'd better call the next of kin. Tell them to get down here soon." An IV next to her head was loaded with something new, and suddenly she was pulled down, her vision faded, and the world was gone. She was in a wood-panelled room. A fire burned in a wide fireplace and she was sitting in a window seat, looking out and watching snow fall. It took awhile to place the room--she hadn't been there in so long, but at last it drifted into her mind that this was her grandmother's living room in Norfolk. Which was in a house that had been sold when she was eight. She could hear her mother's voice in the other room, but it didn't sound right. Her mother sounded panicked. "Where's my daughter? I was told that my daughter was brought here!" A man's voice, too hushed to hear more than pieces, almost murmurs, "gunshot wound. . ." The voices drew closer to the door. "Honey, its Mom, I'm here." her mom could be heard through the door. She felt no urge to get up. She was comfortable where she sat, warm and safe. The other voice again. "We've taken drastic precautions due to the nature of the head wound. We've induced coma to try and relieve the trauma to the brain." A voice spoke from inside the room. "That means you'll be with me for awhile. Feel free to explore." She looked up, startled, to see a black-draped figure moving away from her. He glanced back at her once, and she saw a face fringed with wild dark hair, eyes that were so dark they weren't there. Then he turned back and continued down the hall that had opened up in the wall to let him pass. Mom's voice again. "Missy? I'm here honey. I'm going to call your sister. Then I'll be right back." Her sister. That's right. She was going to her sister's, and apparently she'd been shot. She was in a coma. Just like her sister had been. And she could hear her mother. She was suddenly overwhelmed with relief that she'd believed in her sister, had sat by her and talked while Dana was -- away. And she wanted to hear her sister's voice, speaking to her, even if it was only through this dream door. She tried to feel Dana's spirit, the way she often could. She needed to know if her sister was alright. Someone wanted to hurt Dana, kill her, and Missy was suddenly in a panic that Dana wasn't here because Dana was dead herself. Reaching out, she felt something of her sister's emotions--fear and horror and shame. And love. She knew that Dana must have learned what had happened. But something was wrong, because Dana was blocking her. Was trying not to think about her--to keep her from feeling their bond. Dana wasn't safe, didn't know who she could trust. Outside the door, voices came and went. She paid most of them no attention at all. Her mother's voice was always there, soft and reassuring. Doctors hemmed and muttered, nurses clucked and cooed. And she could't reach Dana. At last, she remembered what the black robed man had said. Feel free to explore. Experimentally, she stretched her legs. Dream-legs maybe, but they seemed to work. Her first step carried her through the window and into the snowy dawn. She could feel the cold, but wasn't bothered by it. With one more look back over her shoulder, she moved away from the living room. The voices receded behind her. The air was crisp and clear, and she walked slowly, wondering at being in her grandmother's yard. As she walked up the hill that led to the pasture, the snow faded, the light grew stronger, and she watched springtime roll in around her. She wandered the pastures of her memory through spring and into summer, and she was happy. In the hills of rural West Virginia, Dana stopped to catch her breath. She had a stitch in her side, and had been running almost constantly for nearly an hour through pitch black woods. Mulder plowed into her from behind, nearly knocking her down, and then stopped, too. He bent double, gasping. "I don't think we were followed. I haven't seen or heard anything." "Mulder, its dark and we've got to stop. We have no idea where we are." By unspoken agreement, they both sat down under the nearest tree. They'd been running alongside a cow pasture, keeping to the trees, and the moonlight streamed through the fence to illuminate the night. "I'm so tired," she gasped. "Then you should sleep." he said. She leaned her head back against the bole of the tree and closed her eyes. She didn't really think sleep would come, but it stole up on her and she let herself sink into it. And dreams came. She looked up into a black sky, with stars scattered across gleaming with surreal brightness. It seemed that a face crossed the sky, but all she could see were eyes that weren't eyes, but stars. And in her mind a voice said, "While you both are here, I can grant you time . . ." Around her Dana could see green trees, grass. The pasture wasn't the one she had fallen asleep by; it was familiar though. And in the distance, she could see the shape of a young redheaded woman. She walked towards her, until she could see that the woman was her sister. Melissa looked up at her with a smile. "Dana! You're here! Are you alright?" "I'm fine. Or I will be fine. I'm coming, Missy. I'm coming to see you. The worlds gone mad and you're the sanest one I know now." "I know you'll be here, Dana. I've been trying to reach you, to feel you. I knew you were in trouble, I knew that's the only thing that would keep you away. Mom has been so worried." "Missy, why didn't you answer your phone? I called you, I told you not to come. You shouldn't have been there. It should have been m-" Her sister cut her off. "We couldn't know, Dana. We both sensed trouble. Neither of us could know where it was hiding." The sisters walked together across the field, and Dana noticed that where she had seen summer flowers before, colors were changing. Fall progressed before their eyes and the grass faded and turned brittle. They held hands tightly but were silent. The brightly colored leaves began falling from the trees, swirling around them in red and gold eddies that looked like flames. Dana knew her time here was short, but she had so much she wanted to say that she didn't know where or how to begin. She turned to face her sister, took both hands in hers. "Missy, I'll be there--" "You *are* here, now, Dana. That's all I wanted." "I love you Miss. I'll get back, and you'll be better, and we'll . . . " her voice failed, as she tried to think of all the things she wanted to do, all those things she'd put off for later, when there was more time. Now suddenly she was out of time, with so much left undone and unsaid. The light was growing unbearably bright around them, making Dana squint to see her sister. The trees were bare, and between them walked a dark man, who raised his hand as though to wave at her-- And she opened her eyes to find that light was dawning over their hiding place. Mulder was leaning over her and softly calling her. "Scully, wake up. Wake up. It's time to get going." She sat up stiffly, rubbed her eyes and found that her face was wet. She surreptiously tried to wipe the tears away as Mulder studiously ignored her. When she had regained her composure he turned, gently touched her shoulder. "We'll be back soon." All that day, as they hiked into the tiny town, as they waited for Skinner to meet them, as they discussed their options, all Scully could think was "I'm coming, Miss. I'll be there. I'll be there." It was like a drumbeat in her head, almost drowning out the voices of the people around her. "I'll be there. I'll be there." They cut the deal with Skinner and she could see the disappointment in Mulder's eyes, but underneath it all was "I'll be there, I'll be there." The ride back seemed like it took months, making inane words come out of her mouth while Mulder sulked in the backseat and her soul reached out to try to feel Missy and it took all her self control not to growl and reach over and stomp on the gas pedal to get them there just a bit sooner. "I'll be there." Skinner dropped her at the hospital and she ran in, practically knocking nurses out of her path, running towards the room number Skinner gave her. There were orderlies in Missy's room, gently putting her onto a stretcher. They were going to do more surgery. A doctor waived them aside, giving Dana a moment to stand by her sister, to touch her hair and hold her hand. To whisper, "I'm here, Missy. I'm so, so sorry," before they covered her with a blanket and pushed her and her machines out the door. Melissa was far from the house now, in a strange place that was so beautiful and green she didn't know how she could have not known it was here when she was a child. There were birds she'd never seen, flowers so lovely they nearly brought her to tears. And when she bent over a small pond, she saw her sister reflected in it. Dana was crying, and reached for her hand, and when Melissa reached to touch the reflection she felt warm hands on her arm. "I'm here, Missy," her sister said. "I'm here." and then the reflection was gone, and Melissa was alone. She wandered a short time longer, until she felt tired, and sat down on a warm rock. She thought she might nap (sleeping in a dream seemed strange, but she suddenly felt heavy), when a voice startled her. "You've come a long way through my brother's lands. You're almost on my grounds now. Can I help you walk the rest of the way?" Melissa looked up to see a dark-haired young woman dressed in scruffy black clothes and a large ankh necklace standing in front of her. She seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. Her face was kind, and she smiled and stretched out a hand to help Missy to her feet to continue her journey. "That sounds nice. Let's go," Missy said, and took the woman's hand. Dana had been sitting alone in the waiting room for hours. Her mother had gone to lay down, didn't seem to want to be near her now. The doctors had come out once to say that the damage was worse and that Missy's condition was very grave, but after that no one had come but a nurse who offered her coffee with silent sympathy. Her thoughts were drifting--now that she was actually here, she was trying to understand everything that had happened over the last week, everything she had seen. Sudennly she knew, just knew, that something was wrong. She could feel Missy the way she had been able to as a little girl, but she was so far away. >From a distance, Dana heard her sister's voice, dreamlike. "I love you, little sister." She closed her eyes and for just an instant saw her walking away at the side of another figure. Then from the darkness Dana heard the beating of mighty wings. ****** END ********* There. Not too original. Dream and Death and their realms are the property of Neil Gaiman and DC/Vertigo. They are used without permission. I express my gratitude to NG for "The Sound of her Wings," which I first read at a very difficult time of my life and which still has the power to make me cry.