Summary: Bloom's five-year-old daughter, Jocelyn, is fatally wounded in a car crash. Their final conversation, though, holds the key to dealing with the loss of her only child.
Disclaimer: I do not own Winx Club.
Angel Wings
Bloom and Sky sat side-by-side in stiff, uncomfortable white chairs made of hard, molded plastic. They were covered in shallow scratches and their clothes were dotted with blood, but they weren't checking each other over for serious wounds, they weren't consoling each other. They weren't puzzling over what had happened. They weren't even speaking.
They just sat there, silent and pale, eyes full of tears and heads full of despair.
"Excuse me, are you Jocelyn's parents?" asked Dr. Carson, a young, kindly doctor in standard-issue hospital scrubs and frameless glasses.
Bloom squeezed Sky's hand tightly, tears cascading down her cheeks. "Yes. Is she going to be alright?"
The doctor looked sympathetic. "I'm sorry; there's nothing we can do. She's already lost far too much blood. We can work miracles here, but we can't stop death."
Bloom choked back a sob of grief and buried her face in Sky's chest. He rubbed her back comfortingly. "How long does she have?" the prince asked. The anguish etched into every line in his face made him look much, much older than he was.
Dr. Carson shook her head. "Only a few minutes. We've numbed the pain, so she won't feel anything. You can speak to her, if you would like, but you don't have very long." She put a consoling hand on Bloom's shoulder. "I'm so sorry. I wish we could have done more."
"I'm sure you did what you could," Sky said graciously. The doctor nodded and disappeared down the sterile, white hospital corridor.
Bloom straightened and wiped her eyes. "Come on," she murmured. "Let's go."
Sky made to follow Bloom to their daughter's room, but was stopped by a passing nurse. "Excuse me, sir, I'll need a few words, it's urgent." Sky shrugged and motioned helplessly for Bloom to go alone.
The room was as sterile and blindingly white as the corridor outside of it, and the waiting room outside of that. Jocelyn was an island of color in the middle of it, with her flaming red hair identical to her mother's and the bright blue eyes she inherited from her father, but her skin was as strikingly pale as the rest of her surroundings.
Bloom had never thought about the way she had taken the simple, rosy tint in her daughter's cheeks for granted until that moment, when it was too late to do anything about it.
Jocelyn, however, was oblivious to the sorrow emanating from her mother. She smiled serenely, playing with her best friend, Hazelnut, the stuffed brown puppy she never left home without. "Hi, Mommy!" she said cheerfully, flashing a gap-toothed grin at her.
Bloom nearly broke down seeing that, but instead smiled lovingly at her daughter as she sat with her on the hospital bed.
"I was thinking. Your wings are so pretty, Mommy," Jocelyn said, crawling clumsily into her lap. "I can't wait till I get my wings. I want to fly with you and Auntie Stella."
"And we want you to fly with us, too, sweetie." She kissed the child's forehead.
"My wings are going to be this big!" she giggled, flinging her arms out as wide as they could go. "And covered in white feathers. And I'll fly all over the place with you and Auntie Stella and we'll...Oh, look! The first star is out, Mommy! Let's make a wish!" Jocelyn cried excitedly, pointing out the window across from her bed at the only twinkling star in the dusky sky.
"Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight, wish I may, wish I might, have this wish I wish tonight," the two recited together, then fell silent for a few moments to make their wishes.
"You know what I wished for?" Jocelyn asked.
Bloom put on a mock-thoughtful face. "Hmm...Chicken pox?"
The girl shrieked with glee. "Mommy, that's silly!"
"Uhm…how about...a ferocious crocodile?"
She wrinkled her nose. "Nuh-uh. Crocodiles are yucky."
"I give up. What did you wish for?"
"I wished for my wings." Jocelyn paused. "Mommy, why are you crying?"
Bloom hastily wiped away the lone tear that had slipped out from under her eyelids. "Oh, no reason, honey."
The child's pale face stretched tight into a loud yawn.
"I think it's time for you to go to sleep," Bloom suggested, sniffing.
The pair snuggled down into the mattress, Jocelyn closing her eyes sleepily. "Twinkle, twinkle, little star," Bloom sang softly. "How I wonder what you are. Up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky. Twinkle, twinkle, little star. How I wonder what you are..."
She looked like she had just fallen asleep, like she could awake at any moment with cheerful smile. But Jocelyn's lungs had stopped breathing, and her heart had stopped beating, and she was gone.
Bloom sobbed, sobbed as she never had before.
The sun was setting, a blazing red fireball in the western sky. Bloom, Sky and Jocelyn were driving along a snowy road, back home to the Sparxian palace.
Headlights came suddenly over a hill, veering wildly all over the pavement. Sky swerved the car violently to avoid a head-on collision, but he skidded on a patch of black ice. The car was sent spinning, and with a deafening crunch of splintering metal and terrified screams, the other car collided with the back of theirs.
The windows were smashed and sharp bits rained down from the back windshield, embedding themselves deeply in Jocelyn's tender flesh.
Bloom awoke in a cold sweat, breathing raggedly. Her face was slick with tears.
She clamored from her bed, strewing sheets and blankets halfway across her bedroom floor in her attempt to reach the bathroom.
The mirror in the bathroom was huge, and afforded a perfectly detailed account of what a mess Bloom had become. Her eyes were red and puffy. Yesterday's make-up was stained on her tear-streaked cheeks. Her nose was running, and her brilliant smile had disappeared, perhaps for good.
Sighing heavily, she helped herself to a glass of water and went to leave. As she turned out the light, a flash of white in the mirror caught her eye. She flicked the light on, but there was nothing there.
She turned the light out again, and there it was again.
Unnerved, Bloom transformed. But suddenly, she understood what she had seen.
Sprouting from her shoulder blades were her wings. But they weren't the wings she was accustomed to. These were big wings, covered in white feathers.
Her heart skipped a beat. What was this? A hallucination, a trick of the light?
Or was it real?
A piece of paper was lying by the sink. Bloom snatched it up, recognizing the handwriting that covered it.
"dear mommy
these are the wings i wished for. i want you to have them. i got my own already.
love jocelyn"
Bloom looked skyward and thanked her daughter for her lovely gift, crying silently.
She was flying on an angel's wings.
Her daughter's angel wings.
The End.