Chapter 2 Middle Earth and Tears

She awoke with a start, her eyes flying open. For a moment she wondered where she was. And then she wondered how it was possible that she could open her eyes at all. She sat up, and gasped, falling back down. She breathed heavily for a moment, forcing herself to think. You are Holly Waller. You are Thorn. You were hunted down by Dell and other Stars for stealing from Rance and leaving the gang. You were on your way to Officer Brooke's office, but they found you. You should have died. She should be dead. She sat up again, more slowly, and looked around her. She was under a light sheet, lying in a bed that was outside. No. Think, girl, think. She was lying in a bed that was under a roof, but open to the air. Ok. That was better. The ceiling arched above her head, supported by columns carved into shapes of beautiful figures that were alarmingly lifelike. There were other beds in the room. Most of them were empty, but a few beds over laid a small curled figure, who appeared to be sleeping. A beautiful woman in a flowing white dress moved around quietly nearby. And there was a bearded old man dressed in a gray robe sitting at the foot of her bed, watching her.

"Holy shit" she gasped, and fell back down. The old man got up, and moved to sit in the elegant chair by the side of her cot, so he could look into her face. She felt like she was about to throw up all over the lovely white bed, but she tried to growl at him.

"Who the hell are you?"

He smiled at her, a smile that was warm, and somehow knew everything about her. She was suddenly reminded of her abuelo, who had raised her and who had died when she was only 12. She realized that she hadn't thought of him in years.

"I am Gandalf the Gray," Gandalf the Gray? What kind of name was that? But she was confused and she hurt, and so couldn't be as defensive as she knew she had to be. He spoke again. "And who are you?"

"Th-," she began, but stopped. There was no reason why she should be Thorn here. She didn't need that name any more, and she really didn't want it "Holly Waller," She paused, looking around her. "Where am I? I should be dead, I should be dead. Dell-" she stopped, feeling her throat fill up

Gandalf spoke. He talked like her grandfather too, his voice rough like sandpaper "You are in Rivendell, in Elrond's care. You were discovered in the river by a scout who went out to investigate the Ford , after Frodo Baggins was discovered there earlier that day. You have been sleeping for a day and a half."

"Rivendell? Elrond? Frodo?" What? She digested the names, searching for some way that they could make sense. "Where the hell am I?" she looked up at him, her eyes filling with tears "I was shot, I should be dead! I- I – I should be dead!" Then she suddenly leaned over and threw up.

Wiping her mouth on the sleeve of her t-shirt, which she still wore, she couldn't stop the tears coursing down her face. If you were a Star, you didn't cry. Even as she was pleading with Dell she didn't cry. Crying was a sign of weakness. But she felt weak. She felt weak, confused, and betrayed. She was supposed to be dead! Why wasn't she? And she was going crazy. Where ever this insane place was, It wasn't anywhere in her city. She was beginning to have a feeling that it wasn't anywhere in her world. She felt a hand on her back and jerked away. She turned on Gandalf, suddenly filled with a white-hot anger.

"Why am I here? What am I doing here?" she shouted at him "I'm dead! I'm dead! There's no place called Rivendell! No one is named Elrond or Frodo or Gandalf! I'm dead!" she dropped her head onto her pillow, and ground her fists into her eyes, angrily trying to rub out the tears. She was too old for this. She was acting like a child, and she hated it, but she couldn't stop.

Gandalf didn't try and touch her again. He watched the young woman, this Holly, fight to stop crying. The healer hovered nearby, looking concerned, but Gandalf shook his head at her. This woman needed to cry. The elf who had been watching the river for the return or Aragorn and the other hobbits and instead found her had reported that she was wounded bleeding heavily, was near unconsciousness, and had spoken only a few words to him - "he shot me," and "I'm dead". She had been through something terrible. It seemed also that she had lived a rough life before then. Her black hair was cut short to her ears, and was uneven and ragged. Her black eyes had seen too much for one so young, and her tan skin was scarred in places. There was also that curious mark by her eyebrow. That could not have been an accident. She was used to battle, and it had changed her. Though he had no idea what it was that had brought her to Middle Earth, perhaps it was the force of her need that had pushed her through time. For it was plain that she was from some place completely outside of anyplace Gandalf had ever been to or heard of.

He noticed that she had stopped crying, and was staring at him through red eyes. They regarded each other for a moment. She searched his face for something. Some sign that he was joking. But his lined face was serious, pensive, and worried. She opened her mouth, and no sound came out. Her eyes closed, her face falling. Keeping her eyes shut, she repeated her question. "Gandalf…why am I here?" she opened her eyes and they were empty. I am not at home, she thought hazily. I am as far from home as I've ever been. I can't get much farther then where I am now. I'm alive. And I'm stuck, in a bed, shot, with an old name whose last name is 'the gray'. But I'm alive.

Holly lay in her bed, staring up at the ceiling. She wasn't crying anymore, and she wasn't angry. She was just thinking. Gandalf had long since gone to sit beside the other occupied bed, leaving her to think over what had happened. One thing was certain. She was alive. Somehow she had survived, and fallen into some river that was very far away from the alley where she'd been shot. She turned her head to look over at the gray robed back of the 'wizard', who was sitting quietly smoking a pipe. She still didn't understand what he had told her

"Holly Waller," he had began, looking slightly grumpy and squinting at the air above her head. "I don not know how you came to be here. I have heard and seen many things, but nothing that could explain how a frightened and hurt women could fall from your world into Middle Earth. I do think though, that perhaps for a moment a portal of some type opened in the exact place and time where you were between your world and ours. But that is only a guess on my part. Perhaps it was merely the fear and need that brought you here. I do not know." He stopped, waiting for her to respond. Holly sighed slightly, and winced. It hurt her. She looked up at him.

"Middle Earth. That's where I am."

"Yes. Middle Earth, October the 21st, the year 3018, the third age…"

"…In Elrond's house. Yes. I know." Suddenly she had felt so tired. Every moment since Kid had run into their apartment breathless, shouting that Rance had heard that she was going to go to the police, and he knew that his money was missing, she had been completely panicky, on edge, and scared out of her mind. Now she didn't need to be on edge anymore, and she could feel her body shutting down.

Gandalf had risen then. "You need to rest. The healers here have mended your wound, even though the source was unknown to them. But you will live." He leaned down until his long nose was three inches away from Holly's, and he laid a hand on her shoulder. She didn't shy away. "You will live" he repeated. Then he had stood up and gone to the other bed.

Holly turned her head away from Gandalf, and stared up at the ceiling. She knew she would fall asleep eventually. She could feel the exhaustion weighing down her body, but she had to think. She wasn't home. She couldn't ever go home. The sudden unexpected grief she felt surprised her. She hadn't particularly loved her life. It had been harsh, and cruel, and hard. But there were good things about her life she could never have again. She knew if she thought about them, she would start to cry again, and she tried to fight against the memories. But they came in anyway. Her abuelo, her apartment, Kid, hamburgers, jeans, and then she was crying again. She didn't try and stop, she just kept thinking of things she'd never do again. She'd never go to Times Square, she'd never listen to the radio, she'd never go shopping, she'd never eat in a restaurant, never see another movie…

Away at the other bed, Gandalf looked away from Frodo, and watched the shaking form of the human girl until her sobs stopped and she fell into a deep sleep.