Broken Window (02/02)

      Ith (ithildin@ONDRAGONSWING.COM)
      Wed, 15 Mar 2006 18:44:20 -0800

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      Broken Window
      by  Denise Underwood
      c. 2006
      
      Part Two
      
      
      Fire, burning, screams that were raw, primal, like flesh being ripped open 
      again and again. Overwhelming agony. The end of everything. Alone forever. 
      And still the screams went on and on. Blackness. Nothingness.  Escape.
      
      A voice finally pierced the nothingness, his voice. "Are you okay?"
      
      If she opened her eyes, she'd be back in the hall, that first day they'd 
      met. No, he was dead. She saw him fall. Crazy. Mad Dr. MacAlpine. She 
      wanted the blessed nothingness back. The pain to go away. The voice of the 
      dead man to stop. "Benjamin," she whispered. Then the screaming started 
      again - her screams, she realized in some distant corner of her broken 
      mind. This was hell. Punishment for her sins, for her failures.
      
      A cool sensation at her throat. "This will make you sleep for awhile," his 
      voice said. He sounded concerned. There was a hiss, pressure, and a slight 
      burning sensation where the coolness had been. Benjamin had always worried 
      about her. Now he was gone. No one left... Then her precious blackness 
      returned to wrap her in its cool embrace.
      
      @_________@
      
      
      The blackness receded. The screams had stopped, so had the pain. It was 
      quiet. Somewhere, there were birds, the sound of wind in the trees. The 
      murmur of soft voices. Footsteps.  A hand took hers. A voice, a new one 
      this time, spoke to her. "Triona, it's Duncan. I know you're in there 
      somewhere, sweetheart. Please come back to us." This voice sounded 
      concerned too, just like Benjamin. Benjamin. Her heart contracted with 
      remembered grief. "Methos is so worried about you, and Lucia needs her 
      mother. She asks about you every day."
      
      Methos? Lucia? Triona felt she should know those names. An image of a 
      little girl with red hair and bright blue eyes.
      
      A hand stroked her face, smoothing her hair back. "You promised Lucia she 
      could go to the First Sunrise Ball this year and that you'd let her pick 
      her own dress. You don't want to disappoint her, do you?"
      
      "Keep talking to her, Duncan," a woman with a French accent said. Another 
      voice that somehow seemed familiar. There was a soft whir. "I'm registering 
      more brain activity. It's not a lot, but more than we have seen. I'm going 
      to decrease the dosage slightly and see what happens."
      
      "I've been teaching her to dance, and she can't wait to show you how well 
      she's doing." His voice held a forced brightness. "My goddaughter is a 
      natural. She takes after you, Triona." He squeezed her hand. "Anything, Gina?"
      
      The woman sighed. "No, I'm sorry."
      
      "There is no way to know what happened when grandmother was trapped in the 
      quantum beam. It seemed like only an hour to us, but to her it could have 
      been months, or even years," another female voice said. "Scans of her RNA 
      show exposure to a quantum flux field, so not only might she have been out 
      of time, but in another reality entirely if there was even the most 
      microscopic fissure in the space time continuum."
      
      Quantum flux? Other realities? None of the voices made sense. Then she 
      heard the one voice that she knew absolutely.
      
      "She's not going to get better, is she, Gina?" He sounded exhausted, his 
      voice full of sadness. "It's been ten days and there's been no improvement. 
      When you decrease the drugs, she gets worse."
      
      "I just don't know. We all know that Immortals are not immune to mental 
      breaks. But I'm working with so little knowledge of what happened to cause 
      hers; it makes it even more difficult to diagnose properly. I don't even 
      know it it's truly all psychological, or if there's some affect from the 
      quantum energies she was exposed to that we just have no way to monitor."
      
      "Don't give up on her, Methos," Duncan said. "She's strong and she has so 
      much to come back for."
      
      "I'm afraid she's never going to come back." His voice broke. "What am I 
      going to do if she doesn't? I can't leave her like this."
      
      "Don't go there, not yet!" Duncan said sharply. His voice softened. "You're 
      exhausted, Methos. Don't think the worst. Whatever happens, you won't be 
      alone."
      
      "When I got to the lab, and found her trapped in that thing, I was alone. 
      She was gone from my mind for the first time in centuries. I thought she 
      was truly dead." He took a shuddering breath. "And now, what I feel isn't 
      really her. It's like looking into a fog and only seeing a faint outline 
      with no real substance."
      
      Someone was crying. Benjamin was crying. Triona struggled against the 
      confusion and the beckoning darkness. He shouldn't be crying - not for her. 
      But he was dead. The dead don't weep. But he'd always comforted her when 
      she cried. She had to do the same for him. She loved him so much and 
      couldn't bear the fear and grief that poured down on her. She had to tell 
      him she was okay, that he could go on with his life, just like she'd always 
      wanted. For him, she would turn back from the void.
      
      She opened her eyes. Duncan was holding a sobbing Benjamin against his 
      chest, trying to comfort his grieving friend. "Benjamin, don't cry. Please 
      don't." She could barely hear her own voice, wasn't even sure if she were 
      really speaking. "Please," she entreated.
      
      The two men rushed to her side. "Triona?" It was if Benjamin didn't really 
      believe it was her. Hope battled against the anguish in his eyes as he 
      touched her.
      
      She reached up to stroke his face to reassure herself that he was real. 
      "Don't cry. Not for me." Her voice was stronger this time. She walked 
      farther from the void. It was as if a flame were drawing her closer to its 
      warmth. Closing her eyes, she let the warmth envelop her. She'd been so 
      cold for so long. Then the warmth became familiar, as if a part of her 
      she'd lost had returned. It was as if Benjamin was there with her, sharing 
      the light and the warmth. No, that wasn't it. Benjamin, but not Benjamin. 
      At least, not in this reality. The shattered shards reassembled themselves, 
      the broken window into that other sad life now whole, blocking the 
      darkness. Opening her eyes once more, she breathed his name, "Methos."
      
      He'd been right - there were always possibilities.
      
      
      * Denise * Ithildin@OnDragonsWing.com - * Ith *
      * Farscape SG1 - http://tv.groups.yahoo.com/group/FarscapeSG1/*
      * Tales From The Darkwood - http://www.ondragonswing.com/tales *
      * "Yeah, but I want to see me live happily ever after even more." 
      ~Methos*
      
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