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AUTHOR'S DISCLAIMER: This fic is primarily about Fox
and Lark, two original characters that I created for the CP universe.
I have no intent to infringe upon copyright or profit materially by
reference to Captain Power characters, or by my use of the song “I
Wonder as I Wander”, which I believe is in the public domain.
If informed that copyright has been violated, I will arrange to have
this story removed from the Web upon request. Please do not reproduce
this story without my permission. Thank you. My friend Jennifer wouldn’t accept a co-writer credit for this, but I know it wouldn’t have been written without her help and inspiration. Thanks, Jen. GRIEFI wonder as I wander out under the sky How Jesus the Savior did come forth to die For poor on'ry people like you and like I I wonder as I wander...out under the sky... The words of the carol she’d sung earlier that night echoed in Lark’s ears. Shivering, she leaned back against the outcropping -- the blunted edges painfully jabbing her in the back. The air, however, was utterly dead around her. Like everything inside her felt right now. did come forth to die. . . It was an odd sort of Christmas carol, really -- the chorus focusing on the Savior’s death, not birth. Oddly fitting for tonight, though. From now on, she’d never be able to think of Christmas without thinking of death. She’d seen too many deaths before now to go through the whole denial bit of believing it was all a nightmare she’d wake up from. She knew better. But this . . . this death hurt like nothing else had before. Maybe because it was Christmas. She'd never lost anyone on Christmas before. Or maybe it was because she had no kin left to lose -- and Jon’s team was the closest thing she still had to a family. Maybe because Pilot was like a sister to her. Had been like a sister. None of it mattered anyhow. Pilot was dead. Precious little point in psychoanalyzing her reaction to it. She’d wanted to just let herself cry on Fox’s shoulder after Hawk had left them alone. Instead, she’d pulled away – focusing instead on cleaning up the wreck she’d turned the dispensary into in that fit of rage and grief she’d had when Hawk had told her. Part of her was ashamed of that. There were supplies there the Resistance couldn't replace easily. On the other hand, better beating up on the med supplies than on Hawk or Fox. Fox. He would’ve sat in that dispensary all night with her if he could have. But his comm link had chirped, calling him to his emergency station. He hadn’t wanted to leave. “I’ll be all right, really.” He’d hesitated. She'd seen him wavering, and she'd almost reached out and grabbed him - begged him not to leave, no matter where he'd been paged to or why. She’d forced herself to stay still, and finally, he’d just nodded in her direction. “Just . . . get some rest. I’ll check on you as soon as they turn me loose.” Well, if they were under red alert, that would be a while. Hopefully long enough so she’d be back in her room by the time he got there. Fox would kill her if he found her up here. Well, maybe that wouldn’t be so bad . . . She’d gone back to her room. Tried to sleep. And after tossing and turning for a while, she’d decided she needed fresh air. To hell with the consequences. This was her favorite hiding place. It was far too small to be called a cave. It was more like a hollow in the rock, a rounded space that she could slip into and stay more or less out of sight. A place where she could just look up at the sky and remember what it was like not to live in a cage. A place where she could say the things she couldn’t down below. “How? How could You? How could this be Your will?” She thought she’d spent all her anger and tears down in the dispensary, but now it was all boiling up again. She stared up at the stars, blinking back tears. “Haven’t You taken enough of the good ones already?” She fell silent for a moment. “I already know what Your ministers will say tomorrow. We’ll hear all about your mysterious ways and not being able to see your plan. Some of them will say You needed Pilot as an angel in Heaven more than we need herhere on earth. That it’s selfish for us to insist on having it our way instead of Your way.” She took a deep breath. “Well pardon me for being selfish, Lord. Because I will never understand why she had to be taken from us! “How could You give someone just three short years to realize what it even means to be human - and then let her be ripped out of the world she was trying to help save? You let her learn about what love is - and this is her reward?” Tears were streaming down her face now. “She had so much more to learn - so much more to give down here. But that doesn’t matter to You, does it? Do You even give a damn about any of us down here anymore? Do You care about what’s happened to Your creation? Because if You do, I’ve seen damned little evidence of it.” She leaned back against the rock. “Why didn’t You take me three years ago? I was ready. Why do You take everyone I let myself care about and leave me here? Is it some kind of test? Or is it just Your sick idea of a joke? “How long? How long do I have to sit here and watch - while You do nothing?” She bit her lip. “What are You keeping me alive for anyway? To keep telling stories? Who are You going to leave alive for me to tell them to?” The carol had finally stopped running through her head. Now it was snatches of Scripture . . . Out of the deep have I cried to you, O Lord . . . hear my voice . . . O that you would tear open the heavens and come down . . . How long O Lord, how long? She hated this. It was like a faucet that she couldn’t shut off. She made a fist and slammed it against the rock next to her. Hard. Again and again. Pain shot up her wrist every time. It was a release. The physical pain, she could deal with. The mental... Lark raised her face back to the heavens. "Why, God? Why?" There was so much she still had left to say. About the waste of Jennifer’s short life. About all the other senseless deaths she’d seen. About how she could no longer sit here and endure all this. But now she couldn’t find the words. When she opened her mouth, all that came out was an inarticulate wail. It tore out of her and opened up everything again, wave upon wave of anguish ripping her raw. Too much pain, too much loss, too much sorrow. Oh, God, when will this end? Only a few feet away, Fox winced as he crouched in the darkness. He’d been listening to Lark for about a minute now, and he didn’t know how long he could let this go on. Something about all of this was tearing her apart, and he couldn't just watch it happen. I never should have left her. He’d known that in his heart. Something about the way she'd steeled herself when he'd gotten the comm message . . . The look on her face had sent a shiver down his spine. She’d gone too calm, too quiet in that moment. He’d realized she was locking it down – for his sake. Which was why he’d slipped away from his station at the first opportunity. They could court-martial him for it later - he didn’t care. His promise to Hawk – and to himself --was more important. He’d gone to Lark’s room, found she wasn’t there, and figured where she must be. He’d known for months about her sneaking up to the surface when she didn’t want to be disturbed. He only hoped he was the only one who knew. Now that he was there, all he could do was listen to her keening, and hope nobody spotted either of them. He knew Lark had seen more than her share of death – even since she’d come to The Passages. She always took it hard when they lost a patient in MedBay. Fox had been there to hear some of the crying and the curses afterwards. A couple of times he’d even seen her punch the wall or kick over a chair. But never had he seen or heard her like this. He wanted nothing more at that moment than to be able to take her in his arms and somehow make all this go away. Failing that, he wanted to break down and sob right along with her. God, he didn’t even want to think about what Pilot’s teammates were going through right now. Especially the Captain. To lose a teammate was hard enough. To lose someone like Pilot . . . Like others in The Passages, Fox had considered Pilot a friend too, and he mourned her. Still, he knew his grief couldn’t begin to compare with that of her team. Or with that of the woman he loved. He’d seen enough of Pilot and Lark together to know they were real close friends. And he knew what the loss of a best friend felt like . . . He blinked back the tears. He’d promised Hawk he’d take care of her. He was damned if he’d let either one of them down. He could put himself on hold for a while. He had to -- for everyone's sake. He still found himself hesitating. He’d always respected her privacy in the past – never disturbing her in her hiding place. Hell, he’d done his best to pretend he didn’t know it existed. And after what she’d done in the dispensary, God only knew how she’d react to him finding her here like this. So he just watched silently as Lark's sobs grew weaker and finally died out. It was only then that he finally approached her - hoping that her tears had finally spent themselves for the night. He could only pray he wasn’t about to set her off again. But he had to do something. . . Normally, Lark would have reacted before he got within a yard of her. But now she didn’t even seem to notice his presence. She didn’t even look at him until he knelt in front of her and put his hands on her shoulders. Only then did she lift her head and stare blankly at him. Fox felt another chill run down his spine as she lowered her head again and leaned silently against his chest. He’d expected her to start screaming at him – cry – hit him – something. Not this . . . emptiness. Like she’d just died inside. He sat there with her for just a few moments, holding her. And then he finally dared to speak. “Come on. We're going back inside. Enough's enough for one night.” Lark didn’t protest - just went limp in his arms as he picked her up. He carried her down below and back to her quarters. A few people out in the hallways stared - but nobody spoke to him or made any movement to stop him. Maybe rank did have some privileges around here...or else people were making all too accurate guesses about their relationship. Well, let them talk. Let the gossips think whatever they wanted. Once they were back in her room, she sat meekly and let Fox take off her jacket and boots. She never said a word – and that scared the hell out of him. This was worse than her earlier raging had been. He’d never seen her look so . . . expressionless. She’s probably just worn out from all that crying and screaming. But he was lying to himself, and he knew it. Because what scared him most about the look in her eyes was that he’d seen it before. In the mirror on the day he got the word his parents were dead. He forced that memory away as quickly as he could. He didn’t have time for old ghosts tonight. He had to help Kiara. He tucked her into bed as if she were a child, sat down next to her, and gently stroked her hair. He didn’t know what else to do, except pray. Dear God, help me get her through this. |