THANKS: Big HUGE thanks go to several people; my babe WonderWolf (aka Wolfpup) for housing my dribbles.... I swear some day I'll write something longer than four pages! *G* My girl WondberBeta, or Shallan. You rule! Nextly, to Lila (aka Pester), TAE (a wickedly quick turnaround this woman has!), and (I think, I can't remember, and I really didn't feel like searching through the TSW archives! *BG*) Sue Foster.... erm... at least that's the name I remember! I'm really sorry if I'm wrong! Anyhow, I owe these three ladies for having a look-see through my fic before it went to beta. Thanks to the Musae for letting me finish this in ONE sitting. Thanks to Spirit for giving me this drive and hunger for fanfic, and the ability to write it.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the boys, or the girls as they appear. Wish I did. If you sue, you can have my room in the garage. It needs a good vacuuming, and still needs to have most of my stuff put away, as I just moved in. *G*
Feedback welcome! My new email addy is AmDonas@hotmail.com. Oh, if anyone out there knows Gaelic grammar, PLEASE email me! Am Donas is supposed to mean 'the demon' in Gaelic, but I just took the two separate words from a book, so I don't know if its correct! *G*
Anna Rennie-Clark
It was a silent dream I had. I couldn't yell or scream in terror, couldn't warn anyone. I was paralysed with fear; I could help no one, saw them all die.
Now I'm awake, drenched in sweat, and breathing like a horse that had just run a mile. My eyes are as wide as saucers. Scrambling out of bed, nearly tripping over a pile of my clothes and shoes, I make a mad dash down the hall for the bathroom.
Leaning over the sink, panting, the mirror shows me my strained face. Lines around my mouth, eyes puffy, lips cracked and dry. Hair matted down, sticking up; a tousled mix of both. Chest damp with sweat. My hands tremble badly even as I fight for them not to; my quivering legs barely holding me upright. The porcelain beneath my hands is a heaven-sent support.
Cold water pours from the tap as I turn it on, and I am grateful. Cupping my hands, I splash my face several times, then drink until I have no stamina left to stop from breathing it in. Grabbing a towel and drying my face off, I scrub the rest of myself down too. It helped; almost like washing the fear from my mouth and drying off the sweat of terror from my body.
But still the images haunt me. As fire licked along Megan's hair, giving her a golden halo, she screamed in pain. Her anguish was palpable. Heavy beams pinned Henri to the concrete floor, blood pouring from a ragged gash on his forehead. Jim lay perilously close to a flaming wall that looked as if it was about to collapse, and Blair struggled to reach him. Rafe stood before a cracked window, screaming from the outside for those inside to awaken and escape. He clawed desperately at his holster, nearly fumbling his gun onto the ground. Clutching it firmly by the barrel, Rafe made to smash the thick butt into the middle of the pane, but it exploded in his face before he could make contact. His screams added to the gut-wrenching cacophony of the dark night.
But it is the plight of my father that has me so torn and shaken. He had been hit with three bullets, the same ones that started the ravenous fire in the first place. His right shoulder was ripped to shreds, his left knee shattered. Even with these hurts, he could have survived, despite the fire. However, it was the continuously leaking rent in his abdomen that was fatal, that had my stomach roiling.
There was nothing I could do but watch as the leader of the Major Crimes Unit perished. As my dad died. This is where I most cursed my lack of mobility; I longed only to rush to him, strip off my clothing, and press it to his wounds. I could not; my joints were locked, making it impossible for me to help my dad. To help anyone.
"Nnnnoooo." The loud moan escapes my lips before I can stop it. I clap a hand to my mouth before another can come. Suddenly, faintly, I hear feet hit the floor and cross the hard wood flooring of the apartment. A bedroom door opens, and footsteps trace the same route I took to the bathroom. Its hinges creaked, giving voice to the opening door. A warm, work roughened hand came to rest on my shoulder. Its owners voice deep, concerned, and scratched by sleep.
"What is it, son? Are you all right?"
I couldn't hold it in any longer, and I folded into his chest, shaking and sobbing. "I... I don't even know how to say it. I saw... saw it all. So much pain." And so distracted was I that I almost didn't notice him leading me over to the bathtub and sitting the both of us down.
"Do you want to tell me about it?"
I shuddered and was grateful for his thick, strong arms. "I don't think I can." Not so much quaver in my voice now, but it was still hard to speak.
"Try. I'm here to listen, not judge, so go slowly."
"You... and the others chased a gang of drug runners into a warehouse. A firefight started when you reacted to a noise, coming up from behind your cover to shoot. They fired. Three shots hit you, but they went through you and hit barrels of flammable chemicals stacked up on the end wall too. The barrels exploded, and the crates and walls caught instantly." I stopped, heaved in a deep breath. His hand rubbed my back again, and it soothed me. "There was a powerful explosion as a result, and it collapsed part of the warehouse's structure. Henri was trapped, Megan's hair was..... Oh God, I can't. I just can't!"
"Hey, hey, it's all right. You don't have to go on. You had a pretty nasty nightmare, son, but it's over now."
I looked at him, fighting not to remember even as the images forced themselves to the forefront. "I saw you die. I watched the whole unit get decimated. And all I could do was watch; it was like I was floating on wings, Dad. It was.... horrible isn't even a strong enough word to describe it."
"Sounds like you really had a ride on Lady Nightmare's Wings." He stood, still keeping his arms around my shoulders. "Why don't we go to the kitchen and get you a drink?" He started towards the door, but stopped at my protest.
"Dad, wait!"
"What?"
I swallowed thickly. "I lost you in that dream, Dad. I don't want to lose you for real. Please.... please be careful."
The older man's smile was indulgent. "Son, nothing is going to happen to me."
"Dad," I started to protest, "please be--"
"All right! I'll look out for myself should I run into any drug runners."
I sighed, relieved. "Thank you."
"Sure thing." He led us out of the room, towards the kitchen and a glass of cool water.
I didn't hesitate to lean against him, savouring the warmth. As I reached out a hand to close the bathroom door, my eyes strayed back into the bathroom. A shadow, faint but still there, seemed to drift through the glass of the window. I'd swear it was just my over-active imagination, but it seemed as if the shadow had wings.
So Lady Nightmare was gone for the night, but who knew when she would return? And who knew what she would bring with her on her next visit?
The End