Hey all! So this is my first time writing for Big Valley, so I hope you guys like it and they're in character and stuff…I love this show so much :3 This is just a weird, bit of Heath whump shot. Yay.
Disclaimer: I don't own Big Valley
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He is falling. Spinning, tumbling, head over heels in an endless curlicue of gravity. Rather calmly, in retrospect, he observes to himself that this isn't natural. So why is he falling? Is he dreaming? This does not usually happen to him. But…it seems so natural. So perhaps it really is happening to him.
This is an odd day, he decides as a mooing steer floats past.
His quiet, unassuming logic decides that this must be happening in real life because you didn't really feel this hot in a dream. Your brain didn't feel like bursting and your hands didn't feel like fire and you didn't want to scream because of the flames clawing at the back of your throat. And, well, because that was what he wanted to do, he did. He screamed long and loud in a futile attempt to expel the heat from his mouth. Instead, all it did was leave his throat even more dry and cracked then before.
Ow.
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He's still falling. And yet, he's not. His feet seem to be planted firmly on the ground while he's still floating easily through the air. It's, understandably, an extremely unsettling feeling.
He looks about the darkness that encompasses him as he falls. It's dark, but light at the same time, coming from an invisible lamp or sun or fire. He reaches out to touch it, his calloused fingers lacing through nothing. Something floats over his skin, an airy substance just barely felt, but it's there.
Random household object float in the opposite direction, somehow going up instead of down where they should be going. Somehow this offends him. He attempts to send a bedside table back down where it belongs, but instead it bonks him in the forehead and continues merrily on its way, setting the fire in his head off again.
Ow.
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"Heath? Heath?" he hears a feminine, gentle voice call. He looks to his left to see her-her-standing there in the dark-light, hands on her hips and her trademark What-are-you-doing look upon her face. And, true to form, those exact words pop out of her mouth.
"What are you doin', son?"
He doesn't say anything for a second. For some reason-even though she was never gone-he feels a terrible ache in his chest, a longing, like he had been missing her for so long and suddenly she was here again. "M-Ma?" he stammers, at a loss for what to do with this feeling.
"Yes, Heath?"
"I…I don't know." He's taken aback. He really doesn't know. What is he doing? Why is he falling? What is going on? You don't just go falling down big black holes in real life! But apparently he was. And apparently he did.
"Well, come here. Let me look at you."
He's not sure how he does it, he doesn't take any real step forward or make any movement at all, really, but he winds up next to her. He takes her tiny, petite, beautiful form in his arms and squeezes her as hard as he can because boy howdy he really really loves his ma.
Somehow he squeezes her so hard she melts out of his arms, and he's left holding nothing but this black air. He looks down, around, but she's gone, gone as steak at the dinner table, and for some reason this makes him panic.
"Ma?!" he hollers, twisting around without making any effort at all. "Ma?!"
"I'm right here, Heath," she answers, and he whirls around to see her staring at his disapprovingly. "Don't shout, young man." And with that, she raps him on the head with her knuckles like she used to when he would get into trouble as a boy. And, of course, it makes his head burst into flames once more.
Ow.
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Heath waves as Jarrod floats upwards, sitting at a desk and giving him a ferocious glare. "You really should stop this," Pappy scolds as he leaves his sight.
Nick punches him the jaw and yells that he needs to break that stallion in or he'll really give him a licking. Then he looks pained and says he's sorry.
Then he punches him again.
Victoria and Audra stand together, arms interlooped with each other's and stare him down ferociously. As he stares back (what else do you do?) Audra starts to cry. "Please stop," she whimpers, letting the tears plop down and form a floating puddle (he wonders subconsciously how in the world this is happening, but not enough to investigate further).
"Now, Audra, dear, crying won't help," Victoria tells her gently.
Audra lifts her head to glare at him. "Will this?" she whispers menacingly, and Heath's eyes grow wide as her teeth elongate and become vicious fangs, dripping venom. Victoria's do the same, their hands growing claws, and they reach for him, grasping and hissing. "WILL THIS?!" Audra screeches, and the fire in Heath's skull reaches higher than it had been before. It's an inferno, scorching his brain and burning down his body. He cannot physically take it, and even though those evil claws are snatching his clothes and pulling him closer, he curls into a ball and screams. He writhes, trying to pull free from their clutches, but they won't let go.
It hurts, hurts, hurts, and even though it's weak and he shouldn't and shouldn't be scared and should concentrate on getting away from these horrible creatures, he is and he can't, so he cries and screams some more and is terrified and he really just wants to get out of here and for the furnace to calm down.
Ow.
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Oh. Wow. He finds his feet have somehow come to touch the ground. Hello there. His tears have dried and the fire has abated, somewhat, as he raises his head to look around his surroundings. His hand reaches out to touch the side of the tunnel, but it comes into contact with something cool and won't go any further. Oh. Well then,
"Heath?"
He turns around to face the whimper, and there Audra stands, tearful once more. She has a handkerchief to her trembling chin, and somehow he feels it's his fault she's crying.
"Heath, please come back," she sobs as a tear drips down her nose.
He is confused. "But…but I'm here, little sister," he answers slowly.
"No," she contradicts him, "Come back. Come back, big brother, come back!"
He blinks. Well, okay then. "Alright, then," he agrees, simple as ever. And as he closes his eyes (somehow he knows that's how he gets back) she kicks him in the shin.
"That's for making me cry," she sniffs.
Ow.
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The first thing he notices, before he's even opened his eyes, is that he's stable. He's not falling, he's not turning, he just is. And it's actually very pleasant. His eyes crack open, the sunset slipping through the cracks between the curtains in his room (there's actually real, real light) and he blinks as he takes it all in.
Audra sits beside him, humming softly and sewing, and the sun glinting off her hair makes her look real nice.
His eyes silently roam over the rest of the room, and he sees a cup of water on the table next to his head, which reminds him of how thirsty he is and how dry his throat is. He throws out a lazy hand, but apparently it's been a while because his fingers are thick as sausages and all he does is succeed in nearly tipping over the glass.
Audra glances up at the shifting sound and drops her sewing. "Heath!" she exclaims, shooting out of her chair and pushing his hand away. "Oh, Heath, you're awake!"
"Awake," he croaks, a cough tickling the back of his dry (but not heat filled) throat, "and mighty thirsty." Of course, he's glad to see her and all, but he really really wants that water.
She assists him in taking a drink of water (his cheeks pink with embarrassment) and settles him back down onto the soft bed.
"What happened?" he questioned, not seeing any bandages on his skin or feeling any on his head.
Audra swallows, ducking her head and fiddling with her sewing. "Fever," she murmurs. "It-it was bad, Heath. You were screaming, and shaking, and the doctor said-" She cut herself off and gave him a shaky smile. "Well, it's over. You're all fine now."
Heath gave a lop-sided smile in return. "S'pose so."
"I'd best go get Mother and the boys. They'll want to see you." She stands up, setting the sewing on the floor and brushing off her skirt. His eyes follow her as she takes a step towards the door, then stops and pivots. "Heath?"
"Hmm?" he hums, an eyebrow quirking. She marches over to him and gives him a nice, solid slug on the arm. He jerks it away as she scolds, "Don't you ever do that to me again, you hear?" She pecks a kiss on his forehead and whisks out the door, leaving him to give a rueful grin and rub his arm.
Ow.
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Review for me please?