Hello and Welcome all! I hope you take the time to read this story and more so I hope you enjoy it.

Like all who write Storm Hawk stories, i too have fallen in fascination with this show. I like all the main characters, but of all of them Finn is my favorite. He seems to have more potential to him than meets the eye.

Anyway - I do not own the Stormhawks, they are the property of Nerdcorps.

However, this is my story, and I'm sticking to it.

Oh, by the way, this story is complete, but I will be releasing it on a chapter by chapter (16 in all) basis. I personally hate getting into a good story and having it fade away. And no, that is not a personal slam on anyone. I know how life, jobs, family and that most untrustworthy companion of all writers - the muse, can and will stand directly in the way of continuing on.

But I promise, I will not upload a story unless it is finished.

Chapter 1

Finn coughed and winced. He knew he had at least one broken rib. There was something wrong with either his left arm or shoulder or both, as it throbbed with sharp pain. He could move it from the elbow down, but could only make a weak fist. The one time he had tried to raise his arm had resulted in pain so intense he had almost blacked out.

He gazed up at the clouds and tried to spot his friends who were continuing to fight the Talon squadron. He still couldn't believe that no one hadn't noticed him being knocked off his ride for the one millionth time. So sure was he that he'd be caught that he'd delayed opening his chute until he realized that the low cloud level had hidden a small rocky terra. He'd opened his chute just in time to be slowed enough not to be splattered into a red smear. As it was he had hit hard, the breath knocked out of him, seeing stars and his vision had almost faded to absolute black. Fighting to stay conscious he had given his head a quick shake and had sat up. Or at least tried to sit up.

Sharp stabbing pain had lanced through his chest and he quickly felt the right side of his ribs to find an area of extreme discomfort. One rib in particular seemed to move more than it should. He had tried to feel the other side of his chest when he found his left arm wouldn't move right. It just kind of hung there, limp and numb. It hadn't been long though before his entire left side began to ache, the pain soaring to an almost unbearable level. He couldn't tell if the agony originated from the shoulder, arm, back or chest, it hurt so badly.

He managed to pull himself around and sit cross-legged, hugging his chest with his good arm and trying to breath in short, shallow gasps. For the first time in his life, he'd gladly exchange this for the hurt he usually experienced by landing crotch first on one of his friend's skimmers.

He coughed again and this time he tasted blood. Eyes widening in fear, he searched the sky above him. Where were they? He tried to suppress another cough and only made it worse, causing a chain reaction. He'd cough, only to hold his breath, which would make him inhale deeper than he wanted to, which would send him into another paroxysm of coughing. He practically writhed on the ground as the pain in his side, chest, arm, back and shoulder exploded to white hot intensity. Coupled with the blood filling his mouth and spraying out of his nose, he was rapidly beginning to panic.

Finn lay on the ground and tried to find his center of gravity, the one he always retreated to when he needed to settle himself. It was the internal place he found when taking an especially difficult shot, or when faced with seemingly impossible odds. He would mentally imagine himself standing in the exact midpoint of his own pair of cross hairs, stabilizing himself while the rest of the world swirled madly about him. Any other time he'd be a part of that whirling storm, adding his own particular brand of folly to it, delighting in the sheer lunacy of it all. There was nothing he liked better than riding a wave of intensity, whether it was having fun with his friends, listening to or playing the loudest, wildly extreme music or just kicking back after a long day. Everything Finn did was done to the fullest.

But he couldn't deny that there were times when he needed to focus, to dial himself down and in and take control of his natural inclination. He'd lose the fear or the anger, let go the sarcasm or hilarity and bring forth calmness. He'd do what was needed and just as quickly return to normal, what passed for normal for him anyway.

Lying on the ground he kept telling himself to take it easy, remain calm, just breath in and out slowly. Yes he hurt and yes he was bleeding internally and yes, he seemed to be alone and lost and there was no sign of his friends. But he'd gotten out of tighter spots and he'd do so this time too. Just had to relax, trust that things would work out. Never mind that silly idea of that silly curse. If he truly was cursed it only seemed to manifest itself on being knocked off his bike. He'd always come out ok before. Well, until now that is.

But he was alive, wasn't he? It was only a matter of time before they'd come flying down, pick him up and take him back to the Condor. Piper'd consult some medical book she had stashed and in no time he'd be patched up, good as new. In fact, he might enjoy being hurt, as the others would feel sorry for him and pamper him, bring him all sorts of tasty things to eat, tuck him in and generally fall all over themselves in taking care of him. Yeah, he could definitely get used to that.

Finn could feel his overwhelmed brain beginning to fade as the pain and shock took hold. He tried to keep his eyes open, but the bright glare from the sky made his eyes water and his head spin from suddenly twirling clouds. Shutting his eyes Finn could feel himself continue to spin, until darkness revolved around him and swallowed him up...

Finn woke shivering. He opened crusty eyelids and looked around, trying to figure out where he was. Gradually he managed to make out he was outside, laying on hard ground, stars twinkling high above where they peeked out between gaps in the cloud cover. He reflexively rolled onto his side and stopped as pain burst through him. With it returned memory, along with the realization that he was still stranded. Once more he found himself fighting panic, along with concern. What had happened to his friends? Why hadn't they found him, rescued him? Were they searching elsewhere? Or….

No. He wouldn't think of such a thing. They were alright, just…detained. Perhaps the battle had lasted longer than usual, perhaps the Talons had been joined by reinforcements. Perhaps his friends had no choice but to make a hasty strategic retreat, and were only waiting for daylight to resume their search for him. Finn nodded, surely that was what had happened. He just had to wait and once the sun was risen, they'd come soaring out of the sky, telling him how sorry they were that it had taken so long, exclaiming over his injuries and promising him that they'd make up for it.

In the meantime, however, he was freezing, his lips were dry and his mouth parched, his head ached, his back was sore, every muscle was stiff and he dared not move or the pain would erupt. And he was hungry. He also had to pee – badly.

Finn heaved a large sigh. Causing his side to send out a sharp pain as the busted rib rubbed and poked into him. Causing him to gasp, this in turn caused him to begin coughing again. At which his shoulder and arm chimed in with their own agony. Finn could only lie on his back, holding his chest with his right arm and trying not to writhe. Once more he tasted the sharp iron tang of blood in his mouth. Slowly the agonizing convulsions grew less and once more Finn lay still, barely breathing. Over and over he told himself to remain still, remain calm, breathe easy, everything will be fine, take it easy, take it easy, take it easy.

Finn cracked open his eyelids and slowly raising his right hand wiped at the tears that had poured out. He started to wipe his hand on his shirt when he stopped and rubbed his fingers across his lips, bringing at least some moisture to them. He began to move his head, inch by inch up and around, trying to take in more of his surroundings. He found he could look to the right and up with relative ease, but turning to the left was painful and made the muscles in his neck cramp. In looking up he tried tilting his head back and managed to get a glimpse of a rock wall behind him before the discomfort grew too much to stand.

Finn knew he had to get to some kind of shelter. Even though he had managed to land on an outcrop and not directly into the wasteland, he was dangerously exposed. Steeling himself to the inevitability of having to move and the pain it would cause, he started to take a deep breath. He cut it short just as he felt another cough begin to build. Finn closed his eyes and tried to swallow, but his mouth was too dry.

Finn tried to think of a way that would get him up and across to the relative shelter of the cliff wall without resulting in him either screaming like a banshee, blacking out from the pain or further damaging his poor body even more. He couldn't come up with anything. He had attempted to ease himself into a sitting position, hoping to be able to use his undamaged legs to scoot backwards. But every time he tried to push himself up on his right arm, his rib would shift and he'd lie there on his back, holding himself frozen until the need to cough, to cry out, to squirm would pass.

There was no hope for it. He would just have to do it, no thinking – just move. Don't even count to three, just – MOVE!

Finn couldn't stop the shriek of pain from tearing out of his throat as he pushed himself up and began shoving himself backward at the same time. Tears streaming out of tightly closed eyes, he alternately coughed and sobbed as he pushed along. The pain had taken on an almost surreal quality, having leapt from white hot to excruciating and then to a point in which it seemed as if he was regarding it almost dispassionately. He had the strangest sensation of looking down at the figure of a small, slim young teen that was struggling to push itself backward.

He regarded the obstruction with supreme irritation as he hit something with his back that prevented him from going further. It took a moment for the realization to sink in that he had reached the cliff wall. The relief was so sudden that he practically collapsed, sagging against it, his head falling forward until his chin came to rest on his chest. Once again the darkness swirled up and around him and he gratefully gave into it.

When he next opened his eyes he thought that he must not have been out for very long. The pain had subsided to a somewhat manageable level and the coughing was light and sporadic. He licked the salty tears from his lips and wiped at his eyes, taking stock of the situation. He was now sitting up and although the pain in his side wasn't as sharp, his arm was now hanging down and the pull on his shoulder was intense. He was still cold, but the cliff wall blocked some of the wind and he was no longer shivering quite as hard. He was thirsty as all get out and could eat an entire hanger bay full of merb cabbage. Heck, he'd even eat one of Junko's meals, go back for seconds. And he still had to pee.

Now that he had managed to secure himself up against the wall, he became aware of sounds. He could hear rustlings and crunches; the shifting of rock and the soft fall of earth. Finn's eyes darted everywhere, trying to find the source of the noise. He really wished he hadn't dropped his crossbow when he had been tossed off his skimmer. Never mind that he probably would have been skewered on it when he landed.

Finn's high pitched scream of fright soared out into the air as he caught site of movement to the right of him. Something large was bounding toward him! Finn only had time to fling his right arm over his face as the thing stuck its fanged face at his. And began licking him joyously.

Finn froze in disbelief. Peering through his fingers, he made out the furry form of a houndbeast, its tail wagging back and forth. Reaching out to stop the creature from licking him to death, Finn's hand contacted the beast's collar. Shock ran through him as he realized that the doglike creature must belong to someone. Someone who had to be nearby. He grabbed hold of the collar and tried to hold the beast's head still.

"Easy boy, er, girl, er, whatever you are. Good houndbeastie, yes, you're a good boy. Can you get your master, huh? Yeah, master. Home. Where's home, huh boy? Where's your master, that's a good boy."

The animal regarded him quizzically, then sat down and offered a paw.

"No, no, not shake, home. Where's home, huh boy, er girl. Yeah see that now, good girl. Can you bark? Can you speak?"

The beast cocked his head at him, ears forward. It gave a small 'huff". Finn took that as an encouraging sign and began to exhort the beast to speak, bark, howl, anything. Just make noise and alert its master that there was a problem and that they should check it out.

Instead the creature stood back up, swiped its very long, very wet tongue over Finn's face and took off.

Finn frowned with annoyance. Females. Why did they have to disregard the obvious? He leaned his head back against the wall and resigned himself to wait for the sun to rise. Hopefully it wouldn't take long for his friends to find him and he'd be off this accursed rock. He wondered where the houndbeast had come from and more importantly where it had gone. Was it stranded like he was or did it belong to someone that might follow it back to him? He tried to listen for sounds of somebody approaching but heard nothing. He shifted a little as he was sitting on a really sharp rock and hissed as pain erupted from his side. He had become almost used to the pain in his shoulder and arm as it was so constant. He wasn't sure but he thought his hand was numb. He probed at it with his other hand and thought so. It felt funny, similar to when a foot fell asleep from being sat on too long. He opened and closed his fingers, and got a small tingling feeling in it.

Finn yawned. He was becoming tired and his eyes were getting heavy. He struggled to stay awake, hoping the houndbeast would come back; at least it had been friendly and could keep him company. It might even protect him if there were any predators out there. He found himself nodding and jerked his head up. Pain shot across his left shoulder and down his arm, making him wince. He leaned his head against the cliff and closed his eyes. He kept telling himself he would open them, in just a minute he would, really – he would, but he could keep them closed just for a little longer.

Finn's breath slowed as he fell deep asleep.