A/N: This is the first LoZ fic I ever wrote seriously. It actually was started about three years ago and has been finished on and off after having survived through three hiatuses and a serious consideration of scrapping. But I decided to give it another chance, and am actually quite pleased with the results. Rated PG-13 for violence and Link's surprisingly dirty mouth; warnings include angst, sadness, violence, Link/Zelda pairing (no citrus), and alternate realities. The timeline I'm basing things on is a quasi-alternate-reality of my own creation: I base most if not all of my Zelda fanfiction on the idea that all the deeds done and chronicled in the Zelda games (with the exception of the Wind Waker for obvious reasons) were the deeds of one brave young lad chosen by Destiny and the three Goddesses as the Hero of Time, the Legendary Hero. Oh. And I don't own Linky (more's the pity) or Zelda or any of the game's other characters. They are copyrighted to Miyamoto Shigeru-san and Nintendo, the lucky bastards. I own, however, sole copyright of each and every one of my original characters. Steal them and I will hunt you down and break your elbows. Remember: A vague threat is no one's friend.
-Act I-
A Twist of Fate
8
Sirens blared and tires screeched as the ambulance went flying down the street toward the ocean. The streets seemed to blur as the large vehicle careened down the roads.
"What's the call?" Kate Madison asked.
"A lady called in a report on an assault victim down on the pier. Says he just kind of appeared on the docks," her partner, John Callahan replied.
"Appeared? What, like he staggered out from behind a building or something?"
"No. Appeared like out of thin air. Says she had no idea where he came from, but he looked pretty beat up."
"Oh. Weird."
The ambulance roared to a stop in the parking lot by the docks, and the two paramedics rushed out. There was a small crowd of people standing around, and Kate guessed that their victim was probably right in the middle of it. "Excuse us, please," Kate said as she and John leapt from the ambulance with all of their gear. Not bothering to wait until people moved, Kate shoved right through the middle of the large group and stopped cold. Lying unconscious in the center of it all, badly beaten with charred, bloodstained clothing, was a young man whose apparel looked like it had come straight from a fantasy costume shop. Kate shook herself out of her shock, and dashed over to him to check for signs of life.
She felt for a pulse while John broke up the crowd and was dismayed when she found none. "He's flatline, John!" she cried.
"I'm kinda busy," he said as he reached into their medkits for an I.V. "Un-flatline him!"
Kate glared at his entirely non-helpful reply and started to perform CPR on the victim, all the while receiving instructions from the hospital on treatment.
They worked steadily for about ten minutes, and finally Kate, who had been unwilling to give up for pure stubbornness' sake, was rewarded quite suddenly when the victim choked out a hoarse cough and started to breathe, though it was shallow.
Kate grasped for the oxygen mask and placed it over his mouth and nose to help his labored breathing. "Ha! Got him," she said, entirely satisfied with herself.
"You've still got that streak going, Katie?" John asked with a grim smile.
"For the sake of our patients, I hope it never ends…" she grinned back.
After making sure the victim was stable, the two physicians loaded him onto the gurney, and hoisted it into the back of the ambulance. Kate climbed in the back to monitor the patient while John got back in the driver's seat. He started up the van, and was off, tearing down the street again, though in a somewhat more relaxed pace than they'd arrived. Kate sighed and leaned back against the side of the ambulance, relieved that the patient hadn't died.
That was when he woke up.
The patient's eyes snapped open, and he went into a sheer panic when he didn't recognize his surroundings. The panic was compounded when he realized he was strapped to the gurney. With more strength than someone in his condition should have had, the young man started to strain against the nylon straps that bound him to the gurney. "Whoa, take it easy," Kate hissed, and not surprisingly, her voice had the opposite effect that it was supposed to. He looked at her for a split second, and then returned to pulling against the bindings. The terrified assault victim pulled free and rolled, tumbling off of the stretcher. He backed fearfully into the far corner away from Kate, and pulled a large broadsword from a scabbard at his back. Kate hadn't seen it there before.
He held the sword with the deadly sharp tip aimed directly at Kate's heart. Even as she realized he could probably kill her with it before she could blink, she could have sworn she could see a subtle glow about the sword, as if it was alive or had a power of its own.
Shaking that thought aside, Kate instead decided to focus on keeping her patient from killing her. "Take it easy," she said calmly, even though her heart was racing. "I'm not gonna hurt you."
"Everything okay back there?" John called from the front.
To avoid a nasty (and most likely fatal for the paramedics) confrontation, Kate responded. "Yeah," she said calmly, no outward sign of fear given. "Everything's fine," she lied, ignoring the disconcerted look in the eyes of her patient.
His eyes narrowed, but the tip of his sword never dropped. Kate noticed that he was quite competent with his weapon. It seemed less of a sword and more like an extension of his arm. She took a soft, small step toward him. "I mean you no harm," she repeated.
The point of the sword flashed toward her. "Stay back," he snapped. "Don't come any closer."
He took a deep breath, still struggling with his wounds. "Where am I?" he asked next, and Kate's eyes widened.
She didn't say anything for a moment.
"Where am I?" he repeated sternly.
"San Francisco, California."
-Act I-
A Twist of Fate
8
Sirens blared and tires screeched as the ambulance went flying down the street toward the ocean. The streets seemed to blur as the large vehicle careened down the roads.
"What's the call?" Kate Madison asked.
"A lady called in a report on an assault victim down on the pier. Says he just kind of appeared on the docks," her partner, John Callahan replied.
"Appeared? What, like he staggered out from behind a building or something?"
"No. Appeared like out of thin air. Says she had no idea where he came from, but he looked pretty beat up."
"Oh. Weird."
The ambulance roared to a stop in the parking lot by the docks, and the two paramedics rushed out. There was a small crowd of people standing around, and Kate guessed that their victim was probably right in the middle of it. "Excuse us, please," Kate said as she and John leapt from the ambulance with all of their gear. Not bothering to wait until people moved, Kate shoved right through the middle of the large group and stopped cold. Lying unconscious in the center of it all, badly beaten with charred, bloodstained clothing, was a young man whose apparel looked like it had come straight from a fantasy costume shop. Kate shook herself out of her shock, and dashed over to him to check for signs of life.
She felt for a pulse while John broke up the crowd and was dismayed when she found none. "He's flatline, John!" she cried.
"I'm kinda busy," he said as he reached into their medkits for an I.V. "Un-flatline him!"
Kate glared at his entirely non-helpful reply and started to perform CPR on the victim, all the while receiving instructions from the hospital on treatment.
They worked steadily for about ten minutes, and finally Kate, who had been unwilling to give up for pure stubbornness' sake, was rewarded quite suddenly when the victim choked out a hoarse cough and started to breathe, though it was shallow.
Kate grasped for the oxygen mask and placed it over his mouth and nose to help his labored breathing. "Ha! Got him," she said, entirely satisfied with herself.
"You've still got that streak going, Katie?" John asked with a grim smile.
"For the sake of our patients, I hope it never ends…" she grinned back.
After making sure the victim was stable, the two physicians loaded him onto the gurney, and hoisted it into the back of the ambulance. Kate climbed in the back to monitor the patient while John got back in the driver's seat. He started up the van, and was off, tearing down the street again, though in a somewhat more relaxed pace than they'd arrived. Kate sighed and leaned back against the side of the ambulance, relieved that the patient hadn't died.
That was when he woke up.
The patient's eyes snapped open, and he went into a sheer panic when he didn't recognize his surroundings. The panic was compounded when he realized he was strapped to the gurney. With more strength than someone in his condition should have had, the young man started to strain against the nylon straps that bound him to the gurney. "Whoa, take it easy," Kate hissed, and not surprisingly, her voice had the opposite effect that it was supposed to. He looked at her for a split second, and then returned to pulling against the bindings. The terrified assault victim pulled free and rolled, tumbling off of the stretcher. He backed fearfully into the far corner away from Kate, and pulled a large broadsword from a scabbard at his back. Kate hadn't seen it there before.
He held the sword with the deadly sharp tip aimed directly at Kate's heart. Even as she realized he could probably kill her with it before she could blink, she could have sworn she could see a subtle glow about the sword, as if it was alive or had a power of its own.
Shaking that thought aside, Kate instead decided to focus on keeping her patient from killing her. "Take it easy," she said calmly, even though her heart was racing. "I'm not gonna hurt you."
"Everything okay back there?" John called from the front.
To avoid a nasty (and most likely fatal for the paramedics) confrontation, Kate responded. "Yeah," she said calmly, no outward sign of fear given. "Everything's fine," she lied, ignoring the disconcerted look in the eyes of her patient.
His eyes narrowed, but the tip of his sword never dropped. Kate noticed that he was quite competent with his weapon. It seemed less of a sword and more like an extension of his arm. She took a soft, small step toward him. "I mean you no harm," she repeated.
The point of the sword flashed toward her. "Stay back," he snapped. "Don't come any closer."
He took a deep breath, still struggling with his wounds. "Where am I?" he asked next, and Kate's eyes widened.
She didn't say anything for a moment.
"Where am I?" he repeated sternly.
"San Francisco, California."