*****
Title: Lost
Author: Looneyluna
Rating: R
Code: R/S, all
Category: Angst, Romance
Summary: Malcolm's left for dead and when rescued feels as though he knows Hoshi. How does he know her, read and find out.
A/N: I must give credit where credit is due. PJ (MHE listmum) stood behind me and cracked the whip. Thanks PJ! I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.
---------------- Prologue
The air clung to his skin like a heavy woolen blanket, his subconscious begging for him to kick that blanket off. The wind moved over him as though trying to cool him, whispers in his broken mind soothing his restlessness. The ringing in his ears had finally deafened him, thus intensifying his isolation as the silence of the ever-present glaring sun beat down upon him.
The heat was harsh, but lessening with each breath he took, his mind a painful loss of who and what he was. Finally the darkness claimed him and carried him to a peaceful oblivion.
Time held no place or meaning as the moon rose and his pale blue eyes watched the stars meander through the sky. A gentle breeze soothed him to sleep.
Dawn broke and life giving leaves encased his resting soul to protect him from the harsh rays of the day. His thirst devoured him and stirred him from his healing slumber. Clumsily, he drank from the leaves; their never- ending supply nutrient-rich water sustained him and encouraged him to survive.
A countless number of days passed and the man grew stronger inside the cocoon, finally breaking it as he stretched protesting muscles. The waning light of dusk greeted him and his vision treated him to the amber specter of golden hues fighting for supremacy in the sky. Night fell and he huddled back inside the remains of his cocoon.
Hunger stirred him, his ever-constant companion as the cycles of day and night passed before him. His memories of his identity and humanity were locked deep inside his dreams, too painful to be revisited. Spent fruits fell upon the land and the man's hunger was quenched, giving him strength to collect fresh fruit.
Days turned into weeks and weeks into months, the man adapted the environment around him to accommodate his needs, his hunger assuaged by fruit and bark from the trees. He had discovered his only source of protein quite by accident. When he first woke, the man shed his clothing, finding no use for the material and forgetting any semblance of modesty. Warm storms were frequent, providing the water that was essential to his well being.
The storm of several days past damaged a nearby tree, revealing the only source of protein on the planet - the heartwood in the middle, which had the consistency and texture of fresh carrots. The man's days were spent in attempts to locate the food as he went about the new forest ripping and tearing twigs and shrubbery for food.
Over time the man grew proficient at the harvest and flourished. His nights were squandered wrestling with the demons, which haunted his dreams - a female with dark hair and an oval face. She taunted and goaded him, yet was soft and gentle with him, unknowingly keeping him alive.
That is what the beings on the surface wanted of him. They wanted him to live. They were witness to his almost death and had taken it upon themselves to save that which his kind had cast off so recklessly. The planet's native inhabitants existed on a level not seen by the human eye. They were sentient and moved among the planets of their system caring only for the life they had nurtured within the being. Pleased with his progress and health, they watched the creature and anticipated his needs, urging him to remember what he was.
The warm season remained the same as years passed. Ultimately, the man's dreams spurring him to create a device that featured in his nightly dreams. He dug through the roots of the forest floor, searching for the clothing and sparse metals he had divested himself of long ago. Taking those materials and merging them with the heat of the fire, instinct drove him to fashion a device to summon more of his kind, through a skill he didn't know he possessed. It vibrated beneath his fingertips and a communicative pattern he had learned as a boy flew from the device as he tapped out a call for help.
He would wake daily and spend what leisure time he had tapping on the communicator unaware of those around him and their power and they stretched his call throughout their home system.
--
Title: Lost
Author: Looneyluna
Rating: R
Code: R/S, all
Category: Angst, Romance
Summary: Malcolm's left for dead and when rescued feels as though he knows Hoshi. How does he know her, read and find out.
A/N: I must give credit where credit is due. PJ (MHE listmum) stood behind me and cracked the whip. Thanks PJ! I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.
---------------- Prologue
The air clung to his skin like a heavy woolen blanket, his subconscious begging for him to kick that blanket off. The wind moved over him as though trying to cool him, whispers in his broken mind soothing his restlessness. The ringing in his ears had finally deafened him, thus intensifying his isolation as the silence of the ever-present glaring sun beat down upon him.
The heat was harsh, but lessening with each breath he took, his mind a painful loss of who and what he was. Finally the darkness claimed him and carried him to a peaceful oblivion.
Time held no place or meaning as the moon rose and his pale blue eyes watched the stars meander through the sky. A gentle breeze soothed him to sleep.
Dawn broke and life giving leaves encased his resting soul to protect him from the harsh rays of the day. His thirst devoured him and stirred him from his healing slumber. Clumsily, he drank from the leaves; their never- ending supply nutrient-rich water sustained him and encouraged him to survive.
A countless number of days passed and the man grew stronger inside the cocoon, finally breaking it as he stretched protesting muscles. The waning light of dusk greeted him and his vision treated him to the amber specter of golden hues fighting for supremacy in the sky. Night fell and he huddled back inside the remains of his cocoon.
Hunger stirred him, his ever-constant companion as the cycles of day and night passed before him. His memories of his identity and humanity were locked deep inside his dreams, too painful to be revisited. Spent fruits fell upon the land and the man's hunger was quenched, giving him strength to collect fresh fruit.
Days turned into weeks and weeks into months, the man adapted the environment around him to accommodate his needs, his hunger assuaged by fruit and bark from the trees. He had discovered his only source of protein quite by accident. When he first woke, the man shed his clothing, finding no use for the material and forgetting any semblance of modesty. Warm storms were frequent, providing the water that was essential to his well being.
The storm of several days past damaged a nearby tree, revealing the only source of protein on the planet - the heartwood in the middle, which had the consistency and texture of fresh carrots. The man's days were spent in attempts to locate the food as he went about the new forest ripping and tearing twigs and shrubbery for food.
Over time the man grew proficient at the harvest and flourished. His nights were squandered wrestling with the demons, which haunted his dreams - a female with dark hair and an oval face. She taunted and goaded him, yet was soft and gentle with him, unknowingly keeping him alive.
That is what the beings on the surface wanted of him. They wanted him to live. They were witness to his almost death and had taken it upon themselves to save that which his kind had cast off so recklessly. The planet's native inhabitants existed on a level not seen by the human eye. They were sentient and moved among the planets of their system caring only for the life they had nurtured within the being. Pleased with his progress and health, they watched the creature and anticipated his needs, urging him to remember what he was.
The warm season remained the same as years passed. Ultimately, the man's dreams spurring him to create a device that featured in his nightly dreams. He dug through the roots of the forest floor, searching for the clothing and sparse metals he had divested himself of long ago. Taking those materials and merging them with the heat of the fire, instinct drove him to fashion a device to summon more of his kind, through a skill he didn't know he possessed. It vibrated beneath his fingertips and a communicative pattern he had learned as a boy flew from the device as he tapped out a call for help.
He would wake daily and spend what leisure time he had tapping on the communicator unaware of those around him and their power and they stretched his call throughout their home system.
--