Chapter Four: Outside the Snow is Falling
Rodney watched as Elizabeth left, absently rubbing the hand she'd been holding, a tiny smile on his face. He was so lucky to have a friend like her-- so lucky that she wanted to be friends with someone who hadn't thought he needed any. He didn't know why he had found himself so drawn to her when he'd made it a habit of pushing everyone away. And he couldn't for the life of him understand why she hadn't allowed him to push her away.
Or maybe he did, and that was the problem. His thoughts returned to the dream he'd been having before Elizabeth had woken him. He hadn't thought about--not seriously--his past in so long, that it surprised him to have dreamt of it. Looking back, though, it probably shouldn't have. With all the hoopla the Atlanteans were going to for this Christmas thing, it was no wonder he was dreaming.
He stretched and began tapping his fingers nervously on the desk in front of him. He'd left all that behind--hadn't he? He had cut all ties to who he had been, what he had stood for, because it meant nothing. And yet, ever since meeting Elizabeth in Antarctica those many months ago, he'd found himself joining in, trying to make friends again...
Clea and Casta had made him see that, even if he refused to examine it or admit it to himself. They'd seen through his front, just like Elizabeth had. Which was why he had kept himself away from children. Because he'd known that would happen. Children were his weak point.
And yet it had been Elizabeth who'd slipped beneath his guard, who had shown him that people weren't so bad after all. He hadn't realized, at first, what was happening. He had just accepted the position as head scientist on the expedition with a happy heart. Finally, people were taking him seriously as a scientist.
And they were, but it had been Elizabeth who suggested he go along. Not Sumner, not O'Neill, but Elizabeth. Elizabeth who had already become his friend. Rodney shook his head and grinned ruefully. Now, they were all here, on Atlantis, and he couldn't get away from his past even though he was in another galaxy.
He sighed and gazed out into nothingness, remembering how it had been, so long ago. How cold...how...lonely...a little boy lost in the wilderness...
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Snow covered the land like a blanket, large drifts making it difficult to get around. Nicholas Kringle shivered beneath his ragged clothing, his small hands trying desparately to keep his mother's tattered shawl wrapped around him. It was all he had of her, all he remembered of her. And they were trying to take even that away.
Forcefully he kept himself from crying. Tears would only freeze to his face and obscure his vision. Plus, if he gave in to the overwhelming sadness he was feeling, he'd likely die out here, in the frozen countryside. So, on and on he trudged, falling here and there, as the drifts in some spots were deeper than others.
He didn't know where he was going, only that he had to get away. He had no family, and the money that had been left him had been squandered by the corrupt matron of the orphanage. He and several other children had been forced to live in squalor, while she drank incessantly. After the money ran out...the others, they had been given away to work in the mines.
But his mother and the matron had been friends at one point, and as evil and corrupt as she was, she honored that friendship by keeping him around. However, when she had found the shawl, she had insisted that he give it to her, to pay for his upkeep. Because it was worth a lot of money.
Nick tried again to force back a sob as he ploughed on. He'd run away then, determined to do something. To save the others. Something. That had been several days ago. Now his stomach was grumbling, and the only moisture he was able to get was from melted snow, and he had no thoughts except to get away. Far away. To somewhere warm.
Warmth. Like sitting in front of a fire, letting the heat seep through him. He'd done that once when he'd been forced to help work at a manor. He hadn't minded that though, because of the fire, and because the butler had given him warm chocolate when he was done. And Nick had made some wooden dolls for the children of the servants as thanks for that.
That was something Nick was very good at, carving wood into things. Making clever little joints and hinges to put wheels on, or to make things bend. Matron hadn't liked that about him, that he made toys to make the others happy, less sad that they had no real homes.
He smiled slightly, and paused. He could almost feel the warmth of that fire. Hear the pleasant crackling of the cheery flames...the screaming of a little girl as...
Nick's eyes abruptly opened and he looked around for the source of the screaming. A small hut that he hadn't noticed amidst the trees was aflame, and two people stood far away from it. A man desparately holding on to the arms of the child as she struggled to get to the hut.
"Mommy!" the little cried, "Mommy mommy mommy mommy!" Sobbing and twisting in the man's arms, she suddenly fell limp.
Nick ran forward in concern and tapped the man on the arm. The guy was much taller than he was, and had a terribly hurt expression on his face.
"They are ill...with the coughing sickness..." he said as if in a trance, 't save Lira, but I will save Lila...I must..."
"Is she still inside, your Lira?" Nick asked, then tugged on the man's coat to get his attention, "Is she still inside?" The man blinked at him uncertainly, and then nodded.
"And she is alive?"
"It is on fire....I couldn't get her to come out..."
That was all Nick needed to hear. He pulled his mother's shawl off, and rubbed it in the snow before pulling it up over himself, to protect himself from the fire. Then he ran towards the hut, ducking through the flames, and calling out.
"Lira, Lira, answer me!"
At first, there was no answer, but then he heard raspy coughing, and followed the sound to a room that was nearly engulfed in flame. A woman sat up in bed, sobbing and coughing at the same time, whispering, "Mika, Lila..." over and over again.
Nick plunged through the flames and gently took the woman's hand. "Come with me Lira," he told her, "And I will take you to your family. You must come with me, I cannot carry you...please, with me..." his pleading at first fell on deaf ears as the hut began falling apart around them.
"Lira...Lira you must come..." worry and desparation made his voice louder than was probably necessary, but it did the trick and snapped her somewhat out of her fever induced trance.
"Are...are you an angel?" Lira asked in wonder.
"I just am here to help, Lira," Nick told her, "Now we must go..."
She allowed him to pull her with him, back the way he had come, dodging falling debris. Finally they reached the door, and he shoved her out, telling her to go, to go to her husband and daughter. Because at the last minute, his foot had become trapped in a hole he hadn't seen.
He watched her go, could see through the flames that the she had made it to her husband. Nick smiled before a coughing fit took him. Thick black smoke had filled his lungs, making it difficult to breath. At least...at least he had helped someone. At least the shawl had gone to a good purpose. Another smile crossed his face as blackness overtook him.
When he woke, he found himself laying in a warm bed with luxiourious covers. Nick sat up and looked around at the tiny room he found himself in. It was the perfect size for a child. A tiny window looked out over a frozen landscape, and he was in a small bed that was just right for his frame. Nick gazed at everything in wonder, mouth open. Then he remembered, the fire. Lira and Lila and Mika...had they all got away all right?
As he started to get out of bed, a soft sweet sound filled his ears, and he looked up to see a woman who hadn't been there before sitting beside his bed. A glow surrounded her as she sang in a language he thought he should know, but didn't. Nick settled back, listening to the voice, feeling a kind of peace settle over him.
When she stopped, he looked up at her and asked, "Am I in Heavan, sweet angel?"
The woman smiled and shook her head, then placed her hand on his. "I am a spirit who has seen your heart," she told him, "It holds no malice though it is troubled. What you have done for those strangers has shown me that perhaps the human race has grown further than any one of us could have hoped..."
Nick simply stared at her, as she tenderly leaned forward and kissed his forehead. "You are who is, and will always be..."