A/N: I was minding my own business last night when this idea popped into my head and this story pretty much wrote itself. Written on the fly and unbeta'd.
Warning: Angst ahoy. I don't write angst. Like, never. I don't know where this came from. I need a hug. Lena needs a hug. I need to give Lena a hug. Major character death. I'm sorry.
Disclaimer: This story is mine, the characters aren't.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~~.~.~.~.~~.~.~.~.~~.~.~.~.~~.~.~.~.~~.~.~.~.~~.~.~.~.~~.~.~.~.~~.~.~.~.~~.~.~.~.~~.~.~.~.~
"Once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return." - attributed to Leonardo da Vinci
She remembers the first time. She remembers the feeling of falling, the feeling of certain death approaching as she hurtled toward the ground. Then, all of a sudden, she wasn't. A voice in her ear soothing her, 'Don't worry, I've got you.' She remembers feeling helplessly small, vulnerable and frail and completely lost were it not for the strong arms that held her. She remembers marveling at how safe she felt in those arms. She remembers being gently lowered to the ground and immediately mourning the loss of the moment, despite the situation that had caused it and the mortal danger she had faced. It hadn't been much of a taste, but from then on, as much as she had proclaimed to hate flying, she found herself longing to be back in those arms, only instead of just hovering in the air, truly flying. She dreamed of it.
She remembers the last time. She remembers the acrid smell of smoke, the fumes burning her throat and lungs, making her eyes tear. She remembers the sudden dips in altitude, the arms that held her not as steady as they usually were but still the safest place she had ever been. She remembers the quiet words of reassurance being whispered in her ear that everything was alright. She remembers those words interrupted by heavy, strained breaths that told her that those words were a lie. She remembers landing, hard and bumpy, nothing like the gentleness of the first time, but still so safe, even if her savior was not. She remembers dropping to her knees and begging, hovering over a limp body as veins were suffused with sickly green. She remembers pale flesh and vacant eyes, and screaming, screaming, screaming.
She remembers her dreams. Soaring through the skies, unhindered and free. Strong arms around her, a soft voice whispering in her ear. The sun warming their skin as the smile they share warms their hearts. Staring into brilliant blue eyes that sparkle with life and love.
She remembers. She stares up at the sky. And she weeps.
