Beyond My Reach

Disclaimer: Once again I don't own Mortal Kombat, Sindel or Rayden (although I wish I owned Jeff Meek).

Author's Note: Sorry about the long wait. I had an idea of where this story was going but I needed to let it piece itself together in my mind first. Hope everyone likes. For those still waiting for updates on "Deal of Eternity" and "A Match Made In A Frozen Hell" I can only apologize. I am sick, in college and working. Expect infrequent updates for a while.

Italics are flashback sequence.

Confessions

I walk quickly, not wanting to be stopped by someone and have to make idle chit chat. Not now. Not after what just happened or what almost happened. I don't know whether to be grateful for Johnny's timely entrance or angry.

Confusion has become my closest companion these last three years it seems.

Walking past Kung Lao, I turn into my own chambers. Looking around for some distraction, I walk to my dressing table. As I sit down I see my jewel box against the mirror. I begin to sort my jewelry for distraction. Which lasts me all of twenty seconds as most of my jewels were lost, stolen or sold after my death.

I have only my gold earrings (from my mother on my thirteenth birthday), a jade anklet (from Jade), and a gold bracelet (from my sister). Shao Kahn threw away my wedding ring from Jerrod, along with my crown and scepter. The rest was probably taken by servants, guards or given as gifts to Kahn's more capable generals and warriors.

It is as I finger the bracelet that my mind wanders. To the day my life took its dark turn. The day Kahn entered Edenia and destroyed my life.

I sat at my table brushing my hair as the breeze played with the curtains. The sky rumbled with thunder.

"Mama!"

I turned around and there was my little girl, being dragged by her arm by a tall man in bloodstained skull armor.

"Mama help me!" Kitana cried as she tried to free herself. Her little three year old legs trying to kick the stranger.

I stood up and ran for my daughter only to have my throat grabbed by the brutish stranger.

"You must be Queen Sindel," he sneered. He shook the hand he had wrapped around my throat.

"Mama!"

"Mama?"

I flinch and whip towards the door, half expecting to see Shao Kahn hauling my daughter into the room.

"Mama, are you all right?" Kitana asks me as she walks into my room. She kneels by me. "What are you doing?" she asks.

As I swallow I realize how dry my mouth has become. "I'm just sorting my jewelry," I try to say as nonchalantly as I can. My daughter has tried so hard to put Kahn behind her, I will not let her see my pain. It will only bring it all back to her.

Kitana frowns at my ornaments. "Mama, is this all you have?" she asks me shocked.

I want to smile at her even though she is probably too outraged for humor. Her mother, the Queen, the representative of Edenia realm, has fewer jewels than her friend Jade. I wonder if she remembers how many ornaments I had before Kahn? I wonder if she remembers playing on my lap, dressing with my jewels as her father laughed in the doorway.

"I'm afraid so, darling. Most of my things were lost after my..." I trail off. How do I talk of my suicide to my daughter? How do I talk to her about it after I left her alone with that monster for so long? How do I tell her how ashamed I am for it now?

She sighs. "Your death?"

I nod, my throat thick with guilt. I was all she had left after Kahn killed Jerrod and yet I let myself be consumed by my own pain and abandoned her.

Kitana takes my hair brush in one of her hands and stands. She takes my hand and with a shake of her head (oh so reminiscent of her father) indicates for me to follow her. My daughter sits me on the bed and sits behind me. She begins to brush my hair.

"I think we need to talk," she says firmly as the brush goes through my hair.

"About?"

"About this guilt you've been carrying," she tells me.

I bow my head.

She continues to brush my hair. "Listen to me please. I just want you to live your life now, all right. And I know that guilt is too heavy a burden to have to carry in silence for long," she informs me.

"That sounds poetic. Where did you hear that from?" I ask.

"Rayden said it to me long ago when we first met," Kitana says.

Yes that would be something Rayden would say. "What do you want to hear?" I ask her.

She sighs impatiently as the brush strokes continue. "I can see you're hurting. Tell me about it. Maybe I can help you," she offers.

I take a deep breath and consider. I realize my daughter and I have both stayed away from this topic for a while now, probably too long in fact. Perhaps I should tell her? Not everything of course. I'll never tell anyone the entire story.

I turn around and face my daughter. Oh, I still remember when she was a little baby, playing with my hair and fussing with her new teeth. Now I see a grown woman, strong, brave, fierce with devotion... and in love. Oh how I wish I could have seen this transformation in its process rather than its result.

"Very well," I say with admittedly more courage than I feel. "I suppose we should have a talk."

Kitana nods her head.

I take the hand that isn't holding the hair brush. Tears threaten to spill from my eyes as I study my daughter. Tears begin to fill her eyes as mine do, but I will keep mine in check for now if for no other reason than to make this easier for her. I stare into her dark eyes as I make this painful confession. I feel my courage slipping. "I am so sorry," I whisper.

Kitana's eyes widen slightly and I know she understands what I am apologizing for.

I am sorry for leaving you alone.

I am sorry for abandoning you to that bastard.

I am sorry for being so weak.

I am sorry for not protecting you.

I am sorry for not being there to watch you grow.

I am sorry for not being there to tell you the truth.

I am sorry for not being there to help you.

I am sorry for not being as brave as you were.

I am sorry for everything you suffered.

I lose the battle with my tears as they slide down my face. Yet I win the war as my daughter drops the hair brush and my hand to wrap her arms tightly around me, her tears wet against my neck and her hair soft against my face.

The best way for her to tell me she forgives me.