Author's Note: This story is a mixture of the movie and of the musical's characterization of Mary Poppins. While I will always adore the books, they're not really going to be mentioned here. Also, I know there's another variation of the "Mary saves the now-orphaned Banks children" and it is quite a fun read; I will try to keep my own writings away from toe-stepping areas.
Chapter One: Where the Wind May Blow
Below her the sky boiled. The clouds writhed and twisted into grotesque shapes, mocking the innocent shape making of ordinary days. Well enough away from the brewing tempest, Mary Poppins sniffed and plucked her carpet bag from the fluffy wisps of her own traveling cloud; she reached inside for her assignment book, flipping to the current date.
"Well, that's quite odd."
She turned the page to yesterday's date.
Final Night with young Prince Tan'kon.
That was as it should be, now, she turned the page back. The paper was still crisp and blank. She didn't turn the page to tomorrow's date.
"Quite odd indeed," Mary Poppins sniffed a second time and set the book away, giving the storm below a critical eye. Apparently her schedule was to be thrown off by this middling rain cloud. "I do hope you're happy."
The cloud's answering thunder rolled just underneath her cloud, off-seating her. She gave the offending cloud a cross look and turned to pluck her umbrella out from the ever-consuming wisps of clouds. Only, as she stretched her hand out, the umbrella was not there, but behind her.
Her personal carriage was moving again.
"Bother." Mary Poppins snatched at her assignment book again and opened it to the day's date.
Between the double oak trees and the whistling brook.
Mary Poppins's lips pursed into a frown as she glanced over the words. She was feeling something rather peculiar: she was feeling off-balanced. Rather, she was confused and confused was not a feeling Mary Poppins cared for. Her eyes darted over to her parrot companion, the wooden bird was uncharacteristically silent.
"I figured you would keep your tongue at the most inopportune time--" she cut off as another crash of thunder went off, this time all around her. She knew the magics of her trade would keep her safe, but her earlier confusion enabled the noise to further unsettle the normally collected woman. She coughed, bringing the umbrella close to her side; grabbing her bag with her other hand.
She sat back down and the cloud rocked as a third thunderclap sounded off. Gritting her teeth, Mary Poppins readied herself for when the cloud would simply vanish. The cloud took her underneath the storm and into a stretch of woods that disappeared into the rain all around her.
It shimmered into nothingness when she was but a meter from the ground. She landed delicately, her umbrella already shielding her from the brunt of the rain. Taking a step forward, she paused when lightning cracked across the small glimpses of sky she could make out in the forest her carriage had deposited her in.
Practically Perfect People had more than enough common sense, especially when it came to vanity ducking under for simple things. She closed the umbrella, hooking it under an arm and made her way through the soggy underbrush, wrinkling her nose as her overcoat soaked through.
Distasteful was a word in her mind but duty was duty and wherever Mary Poppins was needed, she went. Even if it meant trudging through muddy ferns and upturned roots. She made her was as quickly as she could without disgracing herself by falling when she spotted an enormous oak tree up ahead. To it's left was the shattered and charred remains of a trunk. She could faintly make out an outline of the rest sprawled behind the two trees.
She moved closer, her gut twisting in dread. She rounded the trunk, bringing her hand up to cover a gasp. The trunk crashed over a carriage, the horse drowned by the depression in the soil the impact had caused. Caught on it's side, the animal had no chance to escape the torrential downpour. She sidestepped around the poor beast and peered into the wreakage.
The faces were shadowed but she needn't check to confirm her suspicions. The suffrage banner flapping in the wind more than assured her who the fates had cast an evil eye upon. Mary Poppins rocked back on her heels, worry nagging at her, another sensation she detested.
These souls were already onto the next world, there was no need for her here.
"Please let there be no need for me here," she prayed, allowing the worry to bubble past her defenses. She turned to go when movement caught her eye. A small, gloved hand twitched from the back part of the carriage.
"Jane!" Mary quickened over to a place where she could pry debris off of the girl, as she freed the last piece she gently felt Jane's neck for any sort of tenderness, then moved her from the crash.
"Mary Poppins? Is it really you?" Jane's voice was barely a whisper in the wind, snatched away almost before reaching Mary's ears. Mary cradled the girl as she moved further into the shelter of the surviving oak and away from the death.
"Yes, Jane."
"Have you come to take me to Heaven?" Jane's next question threw Mary off-step. She turned into Mary's overcoat, seemingly oblivious to the reaction her statement brought, or to the not-quite-well-kept fabric. Her eyes fluttered, and Mary could see the bruise forming upon her brow.
"Not tonight, Jane. Not tonight." Mary shifted the girl gingerly against the bark, her hand smoothing over the child's hair. "Where is your brother? Where is Michael, Jane?"
"Why, he's just on the opposite side. He wanted to be by Father," Jane blinked slowly.
Mary's brow creased as she looked to the wreck. She knew the mother was in there, was certain the other adult had been George. She had seen no Michael though. She crinkled her nose and straightened up. "Very well. Jane, I want you to stay here, do you understand? I need to see if your brother..." she trailed off, not wanting to voice her fears.
"Yes, Mary Poppins." Jane's head lolled to one side as she tracked Mary's movements around the far side of the oak trees.
Mary sent a look back to the girl, silently thanking the fates that Jane was detached at the moment. This was not her elemental and to be so far from her comfort zone ... she didn't want the girl to feed off her own growing doubts.
"Find Michael, then assess the situation," she murmured, ducking under a low branch. She shoved her concerns away, trying to regain control. Practically Perfect Persons did not lose their composure, no matter the circumstance.
Her heel sunk in mud and she let out a frustrated sigh, tugging it free. Side-stepping another sinkhole, she came upon the small brook. "Oh!"
Michael had been on the opposite side, though he wasn't in the carriage. The boy was laid upon the upturned roots of the oaks, his body thankfully out of the freezing water. He was still and unresponsive when she shouted his name.
"Michael!" she hurried to him, placing her fingers over his pulse point. Nothing ... no! ...there. Faint but there. "Michael," she whispered gratefully.
A shadow in the corner of her eye.
She cocked her head, allowing herself a glare. The despair sprite hovered just out of reach, it's tendrils curled around Michael's form. "You won't save this one, Mary Poppins," it rasped, returning her glower. "This one wants to take the ferry ride."
"You will not make up his mind for him."
"Won't I?" it chuckled, a tendril snaking up to hover over Michael's temple. "He doesn't want to wake up. His mother gone, father as well."
"You will not be the judge over a child's life!" Mary snapped, her composure stretching thin.
"You would then?" It seized one of her wrists with another tendril of smoky darkness. Mary could feel hopelessness creeping from the touch but steeled herself. "Stop me Mary Poppins. Stop me if you can."
Mary felt the world spin out from under her as the sprite tugged her into the battlefield that was Michael's subconsciousness.
To be continued...
I know, I know. Horrible cliffhanger. The second chapter should be up within a day or two, barring any obstacles. Reviews are always welcomed and encouraged; they tell me what I'm doing right and wrong here.