A/N: Before I begin this 9th installment in my solo Gabrielle stories, I need to offer a personal thanks to an "Evil But Friendly Rival" for the idea of dealing with the reincarnated Xena as a young woman coming of age.
This story takes place fifteen years after David comes back from the future to save Gabrielle. In that time, Xena has grown up never truly remembering who she was in her previous life.
All that is about to change…
Awakenings
Forward
Lay back and dream of me,
Red Death to set you free.
We turn the screw to make you die.
Soft flesh and razor blades,
Golgotha, Ace of Spades.
Still hero's twist your pretty eyes.
All mine, all mine,
Black night, moon shine.
All mine, all mine,
Nightmare, the Dream Time.
Black terror stalks the night,
Claws to clutch and fangs to bite,
The dark and faceless crawling fear.
Despair, you can't resist,
Now feel the lizards kiss.
The reptile hissing in your ear.
All mine, all mine,
Black night, moon shine.
All mine, all mine,
Nightmare, the Dream Time.
Dead voices speak through me,
Of things that should not be.
The Prince of Wounds, the Lord of Flies.
Evil lives within ourselves,
We need nobody else.
We tell ourselves the best of lies.
All mine, all mine,
Black night, moon shine.
All mine, all mine,
Nightmare, the Dream Time,
Nightmare, the Dream Time…
"Nightmare, the Dream Time" by Motorhead – From the album "1916"
Something slammed into the earth nearby, causing dust to fall from the ceiling of the temple. The air was thick with it, making it hard for her to breathe without coughing.
Lying before her, on the stone altar was her mother, covered in blood from several wounds, the worst of which was in her upper chest, just above the heart. Her hands worked with automatic ease as she stitched that injury closed and placed a compress over it. Then her mother convulsed once.
All around her, in the temple, people were moving for the exits. Xena noted that most of them were injured in some way or another. Only the most severely wounded were being left behind, along with numerous volunteers from the temple. The smell of blood and other human debris filled the air, like a charnel house. A balding elderly man in the robes of a High Priest stood before the statue of his god and cried in dismay.
"My temple!"
She froze, feeling the uncertainty rising within her. Her mother convulsed again, and then again. Her movement became a frenzied, disjointed series of desperate motions, as if her mind had lost the ability to control her own actions.
An older, heavy set man standing opposite tried to help her hold her mother down. He was a grizzled man in a tattered uniform, his one arm in a sling, the other pressing her mother back down on the altar.
"What's happening?" he asked in alarm.
"I don't know!" She answered in rising panic.
Suddenly, her mother gave one final inhalation that came out in a death rattle. Her body arched off the slab and fell back upon it, completely still.
Behind the grim faced soldier was a young man in what were once the white robes of an acolyte. The fine fabric of his clothing was covered in stains; most of them dried blood by the color.
Beyond him, in the dusty background, she saw dozens of people all lying here and there upon crude stretchers or other stone beds. All of them were wounded. Only a few of them moved. Immediately, she knew she was in some form of hospice, though she didn't know where. The entire scene was frighteningly familiar, but she couldn't understand why.
The young priest looked down at her mother and his gaze softened sympathetically.
"She's dead," he said quietly.
"No!" Xena sat upright in her bed, her body covered in cold sweat and her heart pounding within her chest as if it were going to explode. Her eyes darted about the darkened space around her. She was in her room, in her home. Outside the window, she could hear the sounds of the night animals singing down by the small pond. Her window was filling with pale light, signifying the coming of dawn. She let her heart slow back to something more normal and rose, still trembling a little. Her night shirt was soaked, and the breeze coming in through the window sent a chill through her body. She quickly shed the damp garment and pulled another one from her dresser, feeling the cool fabric slide over her skin. That felt better.
Tying her long black hair back shed tip toed across the hall and peered into her brothers room. She saw the familiar mop of dirty blonde hair sticking out above the edge of the blankets, and she heard Alexander's soft breathing.
She closed the door again and padded into the kitchen and got a cup of water. She drank silently, the images of the dream playing out in her head. She shuddered again at the memory. It seemed so real.
She sipped at the water and could almost taste the dust that had saturated the air of the place. She cold actually feel the dried blood on her fingers. She couldn't understand where the nightmare had come from? She had never, in her life, seen more than a fist fight between a couple of the boys in town? Never been in a Healing House, let alone one so, what, chaotic?
She refilled her cup and walked quietly back towards her room, pausing outside the door to her parents bedroom.
Without really knowing why, she opened the door and peeked in. A soft breath of relief came from her lips as she saw her parents lying in sleep, her mother comfortably resting her head on father's shoulder. His one arm wrapped protectively about her, just like he used to do with Xena when she had been younger.
A part of her wanted to climb into bed with them, like she had done when she was still a kid.
As appealing as that thought had been, she pushed it aside. She was fourteen years old, going on fifteen. She shouldn't be climbing into bed with her parents just because she had a bad dream. That was ridiculous!
At least they were alright, she thought, and she smiled as she watched them sleeping. Her mom was so lucky to have a man like her dad. She closed the door and headed back to her room. Somewhere in the back of her mind, the nightmare lingered.
Xena lay back down on the bed and tried to relax. Her eyes scanned the ceiling above without seeing it as she tried to make sense of the dream. Eventually, she drifted back into an uneasy sleep.