Here's the introduction to my strange little universe. It runs pretty much parallel to canon with the addition of my OC. I'm still ever so grateful to everyone who's encouraged me along the way. The...uniqueness...of this stuff definitely isn't for the purists, but I hope that some of you will have a little fun along with me.
The only thing I own here is my character and ideas. Anything you recognize belongs to the WB, Joel Silver, etc.
Pain!
She staggers into the wall of the hallway, hitting hard on her shoulder.
Crushing, searing, cutting pain in his chest. Bones shatter, muscles scream for oxygen. He claws at the metal spike pinning him, but it's embedded into the wall behind him. His attacker steps into sight; he snarls, but is powerless to get free. His heart keeps beating as blood flows down his chest.
"Andy!"
She feels the cool concrete of the wall against her face; panting, she opens her eyes.
Sarah flinches and yelps, "What's wrong with you? Your eyes?!!"
Andy winces, and turns back to the wall, breathing hard. Shut it down, stupid, SHUT IT DOWN! Still gripped in the pain and shock of the vision, Andy grinds her teeth hard enough to splinter. She desperately locks down mental shields, trying to damp the vision enough to allow her eyes to darken back to normal. "Sarah, I'm fine," she coughs, "I just…it's a migraine, I think."
"But…" Sarah is obviously still spooked, "You…your eyes…w-what?"
"My eyes? Did I rupture a blood vessel? My head hurts enough for that." Andy slowly rolls off her shoulder so her back is to the wall, and uneasily glances up at Sarah. With the phantom pain and panic still echoing through her head, she can only hope that she's managed to calm down enough.
"Oh…n-no. I guess… I just thought…never mind. Do you need to go to the doctor?" Sarah gingerly sinks down on her heels, pulling out her cell phone.
"No." Andy closes her eyes again and takes a deep breath. Too DAMN close. What the hell was that? These things almost never take me when I'm around other people. That's how I've survived like this so long. Shit. Whoever you are that sends me these things, don't DO that!
"Are you sure?" Sarah has slid her phone open, her thumb poised.
"No, just give me a hand up." Andy lifts her arm.
Sarah's fingers tremble a little on Andy's wrist, "God, your hand is icy!" She pulls.
Andy sways a little, now on her feet, head pounding. Her own pain distracts her just enough. Chest laboring for breath that can't come, warm salty trickle from his nose tickles down his chin. His heart still stubbornly beats, blood filling both lungs; he's desperate to cough but his diaphragm is shredded by the rod impaling him. His attacker continues forward, a look of complete shock and disbelief on his face. He snarls again, his own blood dripping from his fangs. Andy clenches her eyes shut, jaw working against the pain. What the hell? Shut it DOWN! Calm down, breathe. Ground and center so you can block this until you can do something about it. I'm coming, damn it! I swear. But you gotta let me get out of here first! Keep this up, and Sarah is going to call the friggin' police rather than an ambulance.
"Andy? You are NOT okay. I'm calling 911." Andy hears the tiny beeps of a cell phone.
"No!" Andy doesn't yet dare to open her eyes.
Sarah freezes, "But…"
"Sarah, I just need to go home. Would you tell Morgan that I'm leaving with a nasty migraine and ask Kyle to cover my consult this afternoon?" Finally sure she's not going to freak Sarah with glowing blue eyes, Andy looks up and grimaces a little, trying to smile.
"There's no way you can drive like this." Sarah insists, sliding her phone shut to Andy's relief.
Sweetie, I'm not driving anywhere. "I'll be fine, really." Andy takes a step without swaying, "See? Please just tell Morgan I need to go home. Go on. I swear I'm okay!"
Obviously not convinced, Sarah starts down the hallway, "I'll tell her now, but wait here and I'll get your stuff and drive you home."
Seeing an opening, Andy agrees somewhat frantically, "Sure thing. That's probably a good idea. Thanks! I'll just step into the restroom for a sec'." I wonder if there's enough room in the handicapped stall to shift and get out of here?
"I'll be right back." Sarah disappears around a corner.
Andy moves quickly into the ladies restroom, it's deserted, thankfully. At least this isn't going to be a bad parody of a phone booth. Andy opens her mind, just a little, not wanting to be completely overcome by the pain again, Okay, buddy, I'm coming. Where are you?
Now ready for the vision, she shifts her form. She catches her reflection in the mirror, and for the first time in the eighteen years since this madness entered her life she actually sees herself shift. Blurring like she's stepped into a mirage then settling, she stares at the wide-eyed woman behind the glass. That's just freakish. Really, really screwed up. I swear, I wish this were some kind of bad dream I could wake from, but it just goes on and on. In the mirror she stands there, same as always-- thirty-ish, eyes fading back a bit to dark bluish-grey, sandy-brown curly shoulder-length hair refusing to settle. Completely unremarkable but for the wings half unfurled from her back. Seriously. I wish this wasn't real.
Trying to focus, Andy takes a deep breath, All right, then. Where are you? Back in the vision, looking out from the hurt man's eyes: Dark warehouse-like building, smell of metal and grease (and blood!), grimy window to the right over his shoulder letting in a bit of sunlight, (thankfully not touching him, he doesn't need any more pain), a second man stepping around some kind of chunk of equipment, holding a gun pointed directly at him. The gun is trembling in the man's hands. The gunman looks at his partner, saying something. The pinned man is having a hard time hearing anything but the pounding of his attackers hearts. Hunger wars with pain for supremacy.
Andy gulps for breath, What the hell IS this? Unable to make sense of what she suspects, she does what she always does. Her job. Holding the image in her head, she lifts her wings. Wings? After all this time, I still don't understand how this can be real. Be my life. Why did they have to turn me into a freak? A bloody "hero"? How do you tell your friends, "I feel people getting hurt, turn into some thing with wings, fly between time and space to help them, then come back and pretend like I'm normal."? There's just no good way to tell someone that. She drives her wings down as she focuses on where and when she wants to be. Cold, deepest cold, and blackness so much more than a mere lack of light envelope her. For three beats of her heart, there is nothing but the cold and dark, not even a sense of self or a memory that there was once light and warmth. Only icy nothingness.
Mick St. John has had better days. True, there may have been some worse (like waking up covered in blood, discovering that his love was a monster that just made him into one, too) but mostly better. Shut up St. John. Think. There's got to be a way out of this. It was getting harder to focus on anything other than the pain, hunger, and lack of air; you don't REALLY need the air, right? SHUT UP, THINK! The two men he'd been following had somehow noticed he was there and ambushed him in the abandoned garage. One had distracted him just long enough that the other was able to shove the engine block off its jack and sent it slamming into him, pinning him against the wall. Now both of the men were staring gape-mouthed at him, I'd stare too, to be honest. Not often that someone that just had a drive shaft run through him stares back, at least for this long. Mick snarls at the pair in frustration.
One of the men, the one without the gun, turns to his partner. "I don't know what the fuck this is, but keep that thing on him." Mick is pretty sure he's referring to the gun. "What the fuck are you, freak?" He hits the engine block with a pipe he just picked up off of the grimy floor. Mick gasps as the vibrations send waves of agony through his chest, then snarls, not able to respond in any constructive way to the baiting. "Fuck! Did you see his teeth? I said, what are you?" he pulls back for another swing. It never lands.
A rush of freezing air, then a violent blow sends the pipe spinning from his hands. Mick winces as it clips him in the shin and kicks it feebly away as his attacker staggers into and catches himself against a rusty support beam. A woman pushes herself to her feet and snaps a wing, (wing?), at the man, catching him in the throat and crumpling him instantly.
Mick gapes at the incomprehensible apparition in front of him. The woman glares at the man at her feet, lip curled in a snarl as she folds grey-plumaged wings loosely to her back. Mick hears a 'click' and looks behind her as the gunman cocks his pistol with violently shaking hands.
Andy momentarily snarls at the downed attacker, fists still clenched by adrenaline.
"Behind you," Andy spins, and briefly stares at the pinned man. "Look out!" There is little volume without breath, but the panic in his icy eyes is clear. My God, he's a vampire! But…Although nothing about the situation makes sense, Andy ducks anyway just as the sound of a gunshot explodes behind her, rattling the grimy windows and echoing madly through the building. The bullet grazes the back of her left shoulder, opening a searing wound and knocking her to the floor. Pain clears away the shock of the vampire's warning and she rolls to her knees barely in time to throw up a mental shield to absorb the next three bullets.
When his shots just stop inches from the woman, the gunman freezes in confusion. Andy shifts her weight a bit and her wing brushes the loose pipe on the floor. As it rolls, she lunges for the pipe just as the gunman recovers and swings the gun to follow her. The bullets ricochet off the floor and the engine block, tearing a pain-filled cry from the pinned vamp. Andy glances back at the vampire, and then swings the pipe at the gunman. With a crack, his hand breaks, sending the gun flying, and with the back swing she caves in the side of his head. He collapses; limp, before the gun even clatters to the greasy floor. Andy stands over him, panting, long experience not allowing her to give in and retch over the violence.
Slowly she turns back to the vampire. He, too, appears to be panting, desperately trying to get air into blood-filled lungs. "Okay. Why did I just get called here to help you?" Andy takes five slow steps towards the vampire, pipe clenched tightly in her hand, "I don't know why I'm here. I should, by all I call sane, have been sent to take your head. Why am I here to help you?" The vamp only looks at her, she can see that he doesn't even have the strength to pant anymore. Even with his pale eyes and fangs, Andy sees the fear in his expressive face; a look of desperation, of pleading for understanding, but also of resignation.
"Damn it." Andy looks back at the two men she's just attacked, who may have been some sort of hunters, protecting innocent people until she killed one and hurt the heck out of the other. She bends over the guy she hit in the throat. He groans a bit, and his eyes flutter open, glazed with shock. Andy reaches out to touch him; if she can't ask the vampire, she'll get it out of this guy's head. She drops her mental barriers: Screams. Children sobbing in a filthy cage. He enters the room, smiling with anticipation, unbuckling his belt. Andy violently lurches away from him, dropping the copper pipe, this time unable to hold back spasms of nausea. After a moment, still gagging, she looks up at the vampire impaled against the wall, his head now sagging and eyes closed. "Hey, you still with me?" He jerks his head up and moans, pain filling his pale eyes. "Guess that's a yes." Andy turns back to the filth on the floor. "It's a sad day when the vampire is the good guy."
Mick struggles back to consciousness as the woman that had appeared out of nowhere (are those really wings?) and just beat the shit out of the two kidnappers that had trapped him reaches for his chin and moves his face towards the thin light of the window behind him. Brow furrowed she looks hard into his eyes. He pulls feebly away, looking down. He doesn't need to see disgust, fear and anger before he dies. A gentle touch brushes his cheek, and he, surprised, looks up as she pulls her hand back. He sees a lot of conflicting emotions flicker across her face, but not, amazingly, hatred.
"Let me help you get this thing out of you," she frowns and steps back. A slight waver in the air like the sun on blacktop, then in her hand forms a sword made of something clear, diamond-like.
Mick's eyes widen in panic, mind spinning in incoherent, pain filled circles.
"Easy there, I'm not going to hurt you." She moves the sword right above the drive shaft, "There's no way I can get this thing free without cutting the engine off," then in one swift motion she lifts the sword and swings down, hard against the metal. A few sparks fly as the sword cuts cleanly through the rod and the engine drops to the concrete. Mick's sight greys out, as the vibration brings a fresh wave of pain.
"Hey, come back here," a voice murmurs, "I'm really sorry about that."
He struggles to focus, and then feels a bit of strength flow into him and pain ebb a little. He opens his eyes, the strange woman is gingerly holding his hand, but appears to be ready to jump away. "Hey there, are you with me?"
All he can do is blink at her.
"Ok, I'm going to pull you off this thing. I need to know you aren't going to try to bite me for my trouble." She looks positively worried that he will.
Mick manages to shake his head. The woman frowns long at him, before bending close and wrapping her arms around his back as if to embrace him. Quickly, before he can tense, she puts her foot against the wall and pulls him towards her and off the shaft.
An agonized cry is torn from Mick as his body spasms from the pain. It unbalances both of them and the woman falls onto her back and Mick falls onto her. Mick feels nothing but agony for a few moments, then fear seeps into his awareness. Sheer frozen panic. Startled, Mick jerks his head up a little, and then turns it slowly to look down. Not an inch from his mouth is a warm neck with blood rushing loudly with each frantic heartbeat. He turns his head a little more to look into the eyes of the woman that just freed him. She's pinned under him, rigid, not even taking a breath. Their eyes lock for a moment as he fights down the desperate hunger. He blinks; breaks eye contact, then with every bit of his strength feebly pushes himself off of her, and collapses on his side, with a low moan of pain.
Andy lies still a moment, then dares a breath and another. The vamp didn't bite her when he fell on her. She didn't know why, he should have. Not that'd it do him much good, I'm not very tasty to his kind…she trembles from the feeling of his breath against her neck, I can not believe this. Why was I sent here? To save a VAMPIRE? Slowly she turns her head, he's right beside her, curled up on his side, clutching his chest. Blood is still leaking from his mouth and nose and Andy can feel waves of tormented exhaustion and hunger coming from him.
Shield him out; you don't need to feel this. Sitting up, Andy tightens her grip on the mental barriers that keep her sane, and out of the vampire's head. She gingerly reaches out to touch him, wondering if there was anything she could do to help him further.
He gasps and jerks back a little, his eyes wide and staring. That starts him into a coughing fit that breaks back through Andy's shields, the pain is so severe. Wincing and grinding her teeth against his agony, tears come to her eyes, "Hey, can you wake up a little? You've got to stop coughing, you're tearing yourself up inside."
The vampire shudders a little, but the coughing fades to a gurgling moan. "Good. Try to lie still a bit. You're supposed to be able to heal from stuff like this." There's nothing from the vamp but sharp little gasps. He seems to not really see her.
Unsure of what else to do but wait for the vamp to recover a bit, Andy looks around the abandoned garage. There wasn't much to see, but concerned about the cage of children she'd glimpsed in the molester's head, she turns towards the unconscious man. Skin absolutely crawling with the prospect of touching his mind again, she stiffly stands. Her shoulder begins to scream for attention now that the adrenaline was fading, so she holds her arm to her side and shuffles close to the downed creep. Looking down, her mouth works as she begins to taste the bitterness of her gorge rising. Feeling sick, she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath before reaching out to touch him.
"Wait."
Andy squeaks and jumps, falling onto her behind and scrambling around to face the vamp.
The vampire takes a few breaths, the word seeming to take most of his strength. He's still curled on his side, his eyes closed. "You…don't have…to do…that."
"Do what?" Andy's voice trembles as she tries to bring her heart rate down to normal.
"Touch…that…filth." The vamp opens his eyes to meet Andy's. She can see that he can feel her disgust at the prospect.
"Ok." Andy steps closer to the vampire and crouches down, "Why are you here? Were you, um, hunting them?"
The vamp's lips curve into a ghost of a crooked smile, "I guess…you…could call it…something…like that." He closes his eyes again and suppresses a cough.
"Hey, go easy. Is it getting any better?" Andy reaches out, almost touching him, her fingers centimeters from his forehead.
"Not…much." The vamp meets her eyes briefly, and then looks away. She feels a wave of hunger and then a feeling of shame.
Why is he still getting through my shields? Andy watches the vampire for a few seconds. Even bloody and trashed, he was awfully appealing. Blinking and shaking her head a little to break that train of thought, she asks, "What's your name?"
"Mick. St. John." The vampire blinks, then whispers, "You?"
The small hand reached out, unafraid to touch her wing. "Are you an angel?" the little girl wondered breathlessly. "Oh, no, sweetling." Andy smiled to think of herself as an angel. Cursing God for the insanity that had shattered her life was definitely NOT angelic. "Then what?" the little girl continued. "I don't know. I'm just here to help people." "Then I'll call you Lady Hawk." The little girl smiled, "Yeah. Lady Hawk." It stuck, as the little girl told authorities how she was rescued from the avalanche by "Lady Hawk," and even the newspapers covering the story had mentioned the little girl's "guardian angel" when no one stepped forward to explain how she'd appeared at the ranger station.
Mick coughs, bringing Andy back. He was looking pointedly at her, an eyebrow lifted slightly.
"Oh, sorry. You can call me Lady Hawk." Andy smiles a little awkwardly.
Mick jerks like he was shot, his eyes wide. "What?!" He tries to sit up, but only succeeds in tipping himself onto his back.
"Whoa, what's wrong?" Andy jumps back a bit as the vampire moves, still not sure if he was going to do something…unpredictable.
"Lady Hawk isn't real." Mick turns his head to the side, expression wary.
"And there's no such thing as vampires. You have to know there's stuff out there like both of us, Mick." Andy feels a bit amused by this exchange in spite of the circumstances.
"But…" Real fear grips Mick's face and he tries again to sit up.
Andy can't stand it and steps closer to him, "Calm down, you're going to tear yourself up again." She freezes as Mick pulls away from her, shaking. "I'm not going to hurt you, I just saved you. Mick, please calm down!"
His jaw clenches, "If you're real, really Lady Hawk, you'll kill me. You hunt things like me." Mick whispers.
Blinking, caught completely off-guard, "Things like you? No, Mick. Things like that," Andy points to the molester on the floor, "Things like that. Not you. Unless you torture little kids?"
Mick freezes, a vision of another time, a terrified little girl, a fire, bursts into his head and right through Andy's shields. She catches the edges of the memory: Mick, ignoring the pain of a face furrowed with gashes, horror-stricken, and feeling little but shock, carries the little girl from the burning cabin, a shadow in the window against the flames. Mick shakes his head.
"Okay, then." Andy cocks her head a little at Mick, wondering at what she'd just seen. "I promise I won't hurt you. I keep my promises, Mick."
Mick holds Andy's eyes for what seems like hours, face taut with pain. Finally, blinking slowly, he jerks his head in a nod of acceptance. He closes his eyes and whispers, "I need to get out of here."
"Okay. What should we do about them?" Andy frowns at the two men sprawled on the grimy floor. "The one is going to make it…"
"I…found the children. Several days ago. There were a couple still alive. I don't know if they'll be able to recover fully, but…" Mick keeps his eyes shut, his jaw muscles working.
"Damn…" Andy swears quietly but with feeling. "Bastards."
Without opening his eyes, Mick nods.
Looking at Mick, then to the man still unconscious on the floor, "Can you, ah, make use of that one?" Andy feels entirely out of her depth suggesting what had come to mind.
Mick's eyes fly open, and his mouth works like he'd tasted something bitter. "No. Not even…No."
"Sorry. I didn't mean…I just…sorry." Andy stands quickly and steps away from the vampire. "Close your eyes, I'm going to get rid of the bodies."
"What?! How?" Mick pushes himself onto his elbow.
Andy looks over her shoulder, "Burn them." She clenches her teeth as Mick's face goes rigid, knowing that her eyes are swirling to silver as she reaches for the energy to incinerate the two men.
"But… Both of them?!" Mick chokes.
"Do you see an alternative? He saw you for what you are. Even if you have proof of what he did to those kids, it'll be years before the courts put him down. That's a lot of time to figure out a way to expose you," Andy feels as if she is listening to herself from a corner of the dark garage; she shudders at the flat, dead sound.
Mick gasps and pulls away from Andy. She turns back to the men and with a twist of her mind, instantaneously the two bodies incandesce. Mick throws his arm up to cover his face and cringes from the flames. In a moment, all that's left are two smears of soot and ash. Andy stands facing away from Mick for a few moments, then moves her head to look at him from the corner of her eye. "I won't ever do that to you," she whispers.
Mick blinks owlishly at her from behind his wrist.
"I can feel your fear," Andy turns to him, seeing herself through his eyes like a shadow; her face expressionless, silver eyes dull. The image chills her, "I'm sorry, I'm trying to keep out of your head, but…" She looks down, closing her eyes, but unable to close her mind. The vampire's fear is like a heavy weight on her chest, making it hard to breathe. How could he not fear you? How could anyone trust you when they know? She opens her eyes, pointedly avoiding looking at the vampire, instead fastening her gaze on a rusty chain hanging from the ceiling above his head. Let it go, Hawk. You'd think by now you wouldn't even try. Just get him calmed down enough to get him somewhere safe, and don't look back. Andy clenches her teeth hard, trying to shove the pain back into a safe corner of her mind.
Mick drops his arm slowly, and stares; Andy counts her own heartbeats in an attempt to shove the vampire and his terror out of her damned brain. Thirty-seven beats later, he takes a deep breath, but it only sends him into a coughing fit.
Andy starts, and then moves quickly his side. "Easy!" She hesitates to touch him, but the vampire obviously couldn't stop. His arm collapses and he stiffens against the concrete, blood smearing across the floor. Andy bites her lip in frustration, then puts her arm around his shoulders and pulls him up to lean against her to relieve the pressure on his chest, "C'mon, try to relax a little so you can stop." She gives up on the attempt to stay out of his head, and drops her mental barriers entirely. She traces the nerves responsible for the pain, and twists the tiny currents away from him, pulling the energy into her own mind. With that relief, Mick's spasms calm.
He stiffens a little in her arms, and she feels the fear rising again in him. "I won't hurt you, Mick," she breathes, resigned.
Mick's head moves against her chest, sweat-damp hair brushing her chin. After a long moment, he whispers, "I believe you."
Andy glances sharply down, surprised. He looks up at her, china-blue eyes wide. His face is still shadowed, but the fear has faded. Mick offers a tiny, brief smile.
Feeling a little hint of warmth rise in her chest, Andy smiles back, "Let's get you out of here."
Mick nods and closes his eyes. He has to have blood, the wound in his chest was too severe and had been open too long to heal. He had no resources left.
"Do you think you could stand, if I helped you? Lady Hawk continues, "I can't carry you out of here like this."
"I can try," Mick whispers, brutally throttling down the hunger burning in his throat.
Lady Hawk's voice trembles, "I'm really worried, Mick. You need to get somewhere safe, and you need blood. Your chest isn't healing at all."
Mick blinks, trying to stay conscious. Lady Hawk was right; he wasn't going to last much longer before he'd lose control. "My c…" Suddenly his chest spasms, and he coughs again. It is like drowning in fire.
"Shit, Mick. Stop it!" Lady Hawk sounds panicked, "Mick!"
Mick tries, but the pain makes it hard to stop. He begins to lose consciousness, but suddenly feels a strong surge of energy and some relief from the burning pain. He opens his eyes to see Lady Hawk pressing her palm to his forehead, face screwed up with concentration, eyes glowing a deep green. She sags in relief seeing him take a calm breath, and her expression softens, "I wasn't sure if that would work. You were trying to leave me there, Mick."
"Thanks." Mick feels like he could almost catch his breath.
"So what caused that?" Lady Hawk's eyes are changing back to blue. Fascinated, Mick stares up at her. "Mick, are you still there?"
He blinks, "Sorry. What?"
"Your coughing fit, it seemed like you were about to say something?"
"Right. My car is just outside. I don't live too far from here, and I have what I need there." Mick closes his eyes again; her heartbeat was beginning to echo dangerously in his ears.
"Just hold on a little longer then," Lady Hawk shifts position so that she can slide his arm over her shoulders. Mick hisses with pain as she pulls him up. He's forced to put most of his weight on her, and she grimaces a bit.
"Sorry," Mick pants, each ragged breath searing his pain-fogged brain with her scent. You could stop trying to breathe. Ain't working anyway.
"It's okay, it's just that damned cut on my shoulder hurts." Lady Hawk takes a step; Mick follows, stumbling with weakness. "Which way?"
"To the right, see that exit sign?" Mick whispers, Let me make it to the door. Just the door.
Lady Hawk swivels her head to see the sign then looks back up at him, "Okay, take it slow."
Mick never knew that a dozen steps could be an eternity of pain. Closing his eyes, he struggles to stay upright and keep his fangs out of his rescuer's neck. She hasn't offered, and she'd likely torch you before you even touch her. Stay in control, St. John; just hold on.
He feels Lady Hawk stop, and opens his eyes, deliberately turning his head away from her. They were at the doorway. Now what?
"It's still light outside, Mick. How far is your car?" Lady Hawk's moves her arm from around his waist to open the door.
"Just a few feet around the corner to the left. I can make it." Mick flashes her a tired smile, "The keys are in my pocket, there. The left one." And your neck is six inches from my lips. Illusory flames crackle across his sight, Are you stupid, St. John? You're stronger than this. You just have to make it to the car.
"Right," she lets go of the door, and fishes the keys from his pocket. They step out into the L.A. afternoon sunlight and Mick can't stop a moan from escaping as it burns the skin of his face and hands. Lady Hawk hurries her steps, and Mick is forced to turn his face from the light towards her neck. Desperately clenching his jaw and eyes shut against temptation, Mick stumbles blindly along with her.
They round the corner, the Mercedes mercifully close, "Whoa. Is that your car?" Lady Hawk looks sharply at Mick.
Mick nods, holding his mind carefully blank as her hair brushes his lips.
"Huh." She opens the passenger door, and Mick collapses gratefully into the seat. She helps him fold his legs in, and then shuts the door.
She slips around to the driver's side. "I think I should look into another line of work," Lady Hawk smiles as she turns the key and the Mercedes rumbles to life.
Mick turns his head towards her, eyebrow raised, too tired to catch the sarcasm in her voice.
"So far this hero gig hasn't bought me a car like this!" She puts the car in gear and flashes him a tired grin.
Mick can't help but smile weakly back.
Andy follows Mick's directions to his apartment. It really wasn't far, but what concerned her was how to get him inside without being seen. They were both covered in his blood, (what am I going to do when I have to get back to Sarah?), and he'd lost consciousness completely a few minutes ago. I don't know if I can wake him up without him losing control and trying to bite me. I really wouldn't mind feeding him, I could control him easily enough so he wouldn't drain me, but my blood is poison to vampires.
She remembers the night she discovered that little quirk: It was her eighteenth birthday, she was finally legal to get into the clubs just off campus. Her roommates had taken her dancing, but they'd hooked up with some guys that were buying them drinks. Andy wasn't comfortable joining them, so wished them good night. She never knew when a call for help would come, and the visions were more common at night. She didn't want to be drunk in some guy's apartment when that happened. Unafraid of a walk alone in the dark, Andy headed back to the dorm. She didn't notice a nearly silent shadow detach itself from an alley as she passed. As she turned off the main street, the vampire rushed her. Taken completely by surprise, Andy couldn't summon any defense. The vamp began feeding, but in moments threw himself away from her. Convulsing, it fell to the sidewalk. Clutching her neck, Andy lay frozen in shock. The vamp finally stilled. Sobbing, she stumbled back to the main street, where a few police were patrolling the clubs closing. They called an ambulance, but never found her attacker.
A car honks behind her, and Andy blinks. The light had turned green.
She pulls into the garage below Mick's building and parks. It was dim and deserted, apparently too early for the evening rush. Unable to believe her good fortune, she turns towards Mick, takes a deep breath and shakes his arm, "Wake up. We're here."
He doesn't respond at all. This is not going to go well, Andy reaches up and brushes Mick's hair from his eyes. His head slumps to his chest, and she can't see any signs of life. Or undeath, whatever.
Hoping to put a little metal between her and the vampire, she gets out of the car and moves around to the passenger side. Leaving his door shut, she drops her mental shields and "shouts", Wake UP Mick! His head jerks up, eyes blank. He lunges for her, but the door slows him. Snarling he tries again, opening the door, but as Andy ducks away from him he collapses to the concrete.
"Stop it, Mick!" Andy shouts with mind and voice.
Mick pushes himself up onto his shoulder, panting, and looks up at her. "Stop. It's me. You can't feed from me; it will probably kill you. Stop now."
The blankness fades from Mick's eyes, and sense returns as he regains control and awareness. Mick moans and drops his head to the floor. He pulls his legs into his chest and he rolls away from her, his face to the concrete. Waves of self-loathing and despair slam into Andy's completely unprotected mind. She's knocked to her knees with the force of the vampire's emotions. Gasping, losing herself in his pain, Andy's control slips and the ground begins to shudder from the energy she unwittingly starts to channel. Building supports groan and crack. Panicking, and barely able to separate herself from the intensity of the vampire's despair, she slams her shields closed and desperately tries to diffuse the energy she called. Unable to completely drain it back where it came, she pulls some of it back into her own mind to try to stop the chaos. The overload causes her to seizure and she blacks out briefly.
Andy wakes to searing pain in her head. Groaning she rolls onto her side. She feels blood trickling from her nose and ears and soaking into her hair. It feels like someone is stabbing a knife into her temple with each beat of her heart. She feels a touch on her cheek. She slowly opens her eyes to see Mick, his eyes wide, pulling his hand away.
"A-a-re y-you a-all r-r-right-t?" he stutters, obviously shaken. He still can't sit up and is slumped on his side.
Slowly Andy pushes herself into a sitting position, "Yeah."
Mick closes his eyes in relief, "I-I am s-so s-s-sorry. I d-didn't mean to do that to you."
A wave of guilt and shame hits Andy. She winces, "Stop it."
Mick startles, "What?"
"Hating yourself. You couldn't help it. I knew you wouldn't be able to control yourself when you woke up. Why do you think I was standing outside the car when I tried to wake you?" The headache overcomes Andy's tact.
"B-b-but…" Mick stammers.
"You. Couldn't. Help. It. So stop. Right now, your emotions hurt me more than the fact that you tried to eat me. I don't blame you, it wasn't your fault, and I have no intention of turning you into a cinder." Andy shakily gets to her feet, stumbles a few steps and catches herself against the Mercedes. She allows herself to rest against it, face buried against her arms folded across the ragtop, "I almost caused an earthquake just now, from feeling your pain. I'd like to leave L.A. in one piece, so I need you to try to calm down so that I can, too.
Silence in her head. Andy groans, hoping it means that her shields are back rather than the vamp just dropped dead. She lifts her head and looks over her shoulder.
Mick stares, completely still, eyes wide.
She pushes away from the car and turns, moving relatively steadily, towards him. She crouches down, offering a hand to the vampire. "C'mon, you still need to get something to eat."
Mick blinks at her.
"Other than me." Andy offers him a weary smile.
Mick reaches out to take her hand. She pulls him close again, and helps him stand. They both stagger a little.
"We make a great team, don't we?" Andy sighs. They somehow make it to the elevator, and both lean against the wall as it climbs to Mick's floor.
As they approach his door, Mick whispers, "There's a remote on the keys."
Andy fumbles the keys out and the door opens. As they enter Mick's apartment, Andy whistles under her breath. Mick glances at her, expression confused. "Nice," Andy looks around and helps Mick to the couch. He collapses on it with a whine deep in the back of his throat.
"There's a panel in the kitchen behind the bowl of apples that opens," he whispers, "I need at least a couple of bags." Mick's eyes flick towards her briefly, but drop quickly down to his knees and his hands clench into shaking fists.
Andy looks around the exquisitely decorated apartment before zeroing in on the red apples. She finds the hidden fridge and grabs the bags of blood. She brings them back to Mick and hands them to him. "While you eat, is there somewhere I can get cleaned up a little?"
Mick looks up at her and sees how exhausted she is, she's swaying very slightly and her eyes look almost black. "Upstairs and to the left, there's a shower." She nods to him and stumbles slightly to the stairs. He hears her footsteps as she climbs wearily up to the landing, and then a door opens and shuts. Unwilling to feed in front of her, he moans quietly in relief, fumbles a bag open and begins to drink. As the blood begins to heal him, he's finally able to take a few real breaths which help to clear his mind of the fog of pain. Resting his head back against the couch, he closes his eyes and exhaustion overwhelms him.
He startles awake as he feels a hand touch his, taking the empty bag from him. "Wha…?"
"It's just me, Hawk. Do you have something so mundane as a trash can around here?" She's wearing one of his old Henley's and a pair of rolled up lounge pants, both overlarge for her, hair wet and falling into her eyes as she bends over him to pick up the other two bags he'd dropped on the floor.
Mick shakes his head to clear it, "Um, yeah. Kitchen, under the sink." He blinks as he watches her turn away, "Wait! What happened to your wings?"
Lady Hawk looks back at him over her shoulder and smiles; "I got rid of them just before I got in your car. I figured being covered in blood would be enough of a problem if I got pulled over."
"You can do that?" Mick's jaw drops as he tries to accept the easy flippancy of her answer.
"Thankfully. I don't know how I'd survive if I couldn't…its bad enough as it is trying to stay under the radar." Lady Hawk shrugs, and then winces.
"What's wrong?" Mick sits up, but his head starts to spin a bit and he rubs the bridge of his nose and blinks to try to make it stop.
"It's just this damned shoulder wound. I think I just started it bleeding again." Lady Hawk twists her head to look at the back of her left shoulder. "Shit. I did. I'm sorry about your shirt, I think I just ruined it."
"My shirt? You're worried about my shirt? Are you kidding?" Mick pushes himself up off the couch and stands up gingerly. "I don't really have anything around that would make much of a bandage, are you going to be all right?"
"If I remember not to move my shoulder much, yeah, I'll be fine. It's pretty shallow." She makes a wry face, "Just stings."
"I'm sorry." Mick looks searchingly at Lady Hawk, "I'm so sorry, about everything. I…I can't even begin…you saved me, then…"
"Shh…Mick. It's okay. Really. It is. It's what I do, and when you, well, you know…you couldn't help it." Lady Hawk half smiles at him.
Mick can't meet her eyes, "Thank you, Lady Hawk." He looks up suddenly, "Don't you have another name? I mean, well…I…I'd like to think that…maybe…" He stops, realizing that he's babbling. How hard is it to ask her if I can think of her as a friend? If she could ever trust me after I…
"You know what? I could really use a drink." Lady Hawk announces breezily, interrupting Mick's thought, "Do you have anything other than blood or water around here?"
"Ah, yeah. I do." Mick frowns at her change in tone for a moment, then turns away to reach for a bottle on the counter. "I reconnected with an old… friend… a week or so ago, she dropped this by." He proffers the bottle to her and reaches into the cabinet for a glass. He hesitates and then gets one for himself as well.
"Wow. This is good stuff." Lady Hawk looks up from the label and into Mick's eyes. "Mick, I…I haven't ever told anyone my name as Lady Hawk. I don't…I mean…please, just call me Hawk, at least for now, until…until I can get used to the idea, all right?" She grins shakily, "I could really use a bit of that scotch now, please?"
Mick lifts an eyebrow at her and then smiles, "Okay, sure. Here." He gently takes the bottle back, pours her a generous dollop and slides the glass to her hand before quickly pouring himself some, too.
She downs half of it, makes a face and whistles under her breath.
"Better?" Mick asks wryly.
"Much." Hawk takes a second swallow, and closes her eyes. "Mind if I sit down?"
"Only if you mind if I do, too." Mick smiles, "Should I bring the bottle?"
"Yep." Hawk moves back into Mick's living room. He's impressed that she walks without weaving.
She settles on the couch with a sigh, and takes another mouthful of the scotch. She leans her head against the back and closes her eyes. Mick sits next to her, she holds out her glass without looking at him, "More?"
Mick chuckles, "You sure?"
"Mmhm. Please." She rolls her head to look at him. "My head still hurts. If it's gonna keep hurting, I at least don't want to remember it."
Mick pours her another glass. As she sips it, more slowly now, he watches her. "So, what exactly are you?" He swallows the content of his own glass, brow wrinkling.
"I don't know." Hawk looks at him, "Honest."
"But, how?" Mick shakes his head in confusion.
"I was normal until I was fourteen. I was attacked…mauled… by some…beings…one day. It's a long story. That's when I started having visions of people getting terribly hurt. I didn't know what to do…I eventually worked out that I could help them, that I could shift my body so I could fly and get to them, heal them and fight the nasty things that were hurting them. I thought at first that I was going crazy, blacking out and dreaming this stuff." She shrugs again, this time with just her right shoulder. "Maybe I am, but until I wake up I'll just keep doing it." She takes another swallow of scotch, and blinks at the empty glass. "Huh. I think this time I'd better stop."
Mick reaches over and takes the glass gently from her hand. He sets both of their glasses on the coffee table and turns back to her. "Well, I'm glad to be a part of your dream, then."
Hawk blinks at him and smiles a little. She leans over and gives him a brief hug. "Me too."
Mick freezes until she lets go, too surprised by the burn of warm acceptance against his chest the second time in a week to sort through his thoughts, let alone react to her sudden friendly overture.
She stands, and takes a deep breath. "I've got to get back."
"What? Now? Are you sure you'll be okay?" Mick stands, too, her abrupt movement startling him.
Hawk's outline blurs and her wings reappear. Mick stares, his mouth sagging open a little.
"I will. But I do have to go. I left my friend hanging, worried about me." Hawk offers Mick a brief smile; "Maybe I'll try to get in touch, sometime."
Mick nods, "Please."
"Okay." She lifts her wings and disappears in a wing beat.
Mick is left standing alone in his apartment, wondering if it had been him that was dreaming.
Andy stumbles as she lands back in the restroom. She quickly shifts her wings away and looks around. She's returned just after she left, careful to avoid the chance that anyone could have stumbled in. She quickly opens her locker, grateful for the set of spare keys she stored there and hurries out. She cautiously looks around the hallway and walks as fast as she can, desperately hoping to avoid meeting anyone on her way out. Once out of the building, she runs all-out to her car, and slides in. Panting she picks up her cell phone that she'd left on the charger. This is truly the first time that forgetting to charge my phone was a blessing. She opens it and dials. "Hi, Sarah. It's me, Andy. I just wanted to let you know that I didn't wait for you. No, I'm okay. Don't worry, I'll see you tomorrow."