Title: Maybe the
mountains will fall again
Author: Magda
Rating: PG maybe less
Disclaimers: I own nothing but Gabby...
Category: that's complicated. Something between angst and fluff
Pairing: Mainly M/M but other couples will show up too
Feedback: Please!!!!
Summary: will be added later. Sorry:(
Author's Note: It was going to be a Christmas fic but since I'm not sure
how Christmas-y it will be, I thought I'll give it a shot and post the prologue
now. Tell me if I should wait with the next parts till December
Dedication: to Claire
*****************************************
MAYBE THE MOUNTAINS WILL FALL AGAIN
prologue
The stars hid behind the clouds that night and the darkness that fell on earth was thick and heavy. Rare rays of light that somehow escaped the prison of clouds highlighted the lonely house on the suburbs of Roswell, New Mexico, making it seem even sadder and lonelier.
Sitting on a bench outside the house was a 5-year-old girl with golden hair that was envied by the dozens of angels in heaven. She was looking up at the sky searching desperately for a shooting star to wish on or that funny little man who lived on the moon and always waved to her before she went to sleep.
Neither could be found that night.
She didn't move when the arms of a young dark-haired woman encircled her shoulders and squeezed her gently. She didn't need to look at the woman's face to know it was tired and tear-streaked. She didn't turn her head when the woman sighed nor when she started speaking
- "Maria, honey," - the woman's voice was low and deprived of its usual cheerfulness –"your daddy's not coming back this time…"
The girl didn't react to those words, she barely heard them in fact, yet she knew they were true. She could always tell what was a lie and what was not.
Still, she kept staring at the sky, pretending nothing had ever happened; that it was day not a night and on her left side beside her mommy sat her dad smiling lovingly at them both.
At that moment the clouds had broken and the rain started to fall.
-"Look, momma"-she finally spoke –"the angels are crying…"
And indeed they were, for that night was the night when the man fell from the moon and shooting stars stopped granting people's wishes. But most of all the angels were crying for the love that little girl deserved and, by the departure of one man, was deprived of.
Among them in a long snow white dress and a newly received halo stood I.
The littlest of Angels.
