A/N: Taking a journey into the (for me) mostly uncharted waters of tragedy/angst-land. Yeah, sometimes I like to put my OCs through the wringer. In my mind, Storm's this finely balanced being of strength and vulnerability and who hasn't had to fight against some little voice in their head trying to pull you down and drag you under?
Angels
It's Torfan all over again was the one thought that kept repeating in her mind. Repeating incessantly. It's Torfan. All over again. And guess what, Hayles? I don't think you're gonna make it out this time.
That snide little voice from the reaches of her subconscious had dogged First Lieutenant Storm for most of her career. It was the voice of all her fears and doubts in her own abilities. It second-guessed her every decision and how it loved to point and laugh at her mistakes. In her darker moments, she'd consider resigning her commission and walking away from the career she loved.
In her darkest moments, she heard the traitorous little whore inside her mind urging her to flip off the safety of her sidearm, press the barrel against the side of her head and-
Dammit, Hayley! Don't let her beat you! The voice of her elder brother cut through the Babel in her mind, brought her back around. Made her focus. "Thank you, Julian," Hailstorm whispered so as to not not be heard over the comm.
Screwing her eyes shut for the barest of instants, the young officer fought to find her centre amid the din of the battle around her. Beside her, Williams, Fredericks and Shepard kept up a constant barrage of gunfire as they fought to bring the mercs hired by the red sand dealers to a standstill.
Hazel eyes open once more, Storm raised the stock of her Volkov rifle to her shoulder, sighted through the scope and saw, through the shifting veils of smoke and choking dust, a pair of figures break cover and attempt to flank their position.
Not on my watch. Storm took a deep breath of filtered air, let half of it out and stroked the trigger. The weapon recoiled forcefully against her armoured shoulder but she regained her sight picture in an instant. The first merc, a human, was down. The high-explosive round having blown a bloody crater the size of a dinner plate in his torso. The second merc, a spindly looking salarian paused in shock, mottled grey hardsuit splattered with red.
A second round took off his head.
Shepard's voice, perversely amused-sounding amid the carnage spoke in her earpiece, "Nice shootin' Tex." A shotgun blast rang out and the Spectre-issue weapon cut down yet another merc who pressed in too close to the squad's position. They'd been pinned down outside the entrance to the pre-fabricated compound used by the mercs for more than an hour but repeated attempts to rush the Alliance soldiers and finish them off had failed.
"This is getting ridiculous. We can't press forward and they can't push us back," Hailstorm opined over the sudden lull in the battle.
Moving slowly and cautiously, Williams raised her helmeted head over the rocky outcrop they were sheltering behind and found a piece of good cover maybe fifty metres from her current position. If they could get over there, she could cover the LT while she hacked the lock on the door of the compound. Then they could finally take the fight to the drug manufacturers.
"Skipper, I can bunker down by those rocks over there," Williams pointed them out, "And from there, I can cover the LT while she opens the doors."
Shepard nodded, keen blue-eyed gaze sweeping over the terrain before them. Her glance flicked to the HUD displayed in the inside of her helmet, generated by her hardsuit's onboard computers. Zero contacts.
Nodding to Williams, Shepard gave the order, "Do it. Hailstorm, be ready to move when she's secured."
As the Gunnery Chief broke cover, dodging back and forth as she ran to throw off the aim of any potential snipers, PFC Fredericks laid down suppressing fire until his rifle overheated. The enemy appeared to have run out of soldiers to throw at them but he couldn't allow himself to relax yet. A random thought flit through his mind as his weapon cooled enough to recommence firing: During the First World War most shots were fired with the aim of making the other guy keep his head down so he couldn't shoot back rather than kill him.
Williams was maybe half-way to her chosen cover when the shot rang out.
Time seemed to slow, become elastic. Seemingly in the space between one heartbeat and the next, an eezo signature had appeared on Hailstorm's HUD and before either she or anybody else could react, a shot screamed out, rending the smoke-filled air.
Williams, caught between one running foot-fall and the next jerked, staggered on another half-step and collapsed heavily. She uttered not a sound.
"Ash!" Shepard screamed and pushed herself up and over the rocks before her, intending to brave what was suddenly a kill-zone and attempt to rescue the woman whom she had come to love like the sister she'd never had.
A strong pair of hands grabbed her, pulled her back down. Shepard struggled to free herself from Fredericks' grip and, as the two fought - he was heavier but she was desperate - Hailstorm broke cover and ran hard for the fallen Williams. "Cover me!" she shouted into her helmet mic.
Fully automatic suppressive fire opened up from behind her, keeping the merc pinned down. Shepard's shotgun, relatively useless at long range added its bass thunder to the high-pitched crescendo of the assault rifle.
Much as Williams had, Storm ducked and weaved, imagining holographic targeting reticules locking into her slender form. Her lungs burned as they fought to pull in more oxygen from her suit's supplies. Her muscles ached; suddenly all those hours spent pounding along the treadmill in the Tokyo's gym during her prior posting were paying off. Hayley felt as though she was being propelled along by the wings of angels and her feet barely seemed to touch the barren rocky ground. Just a few more feet...
Gasping for breath, sweat sliding from her hairline and down her face like the tears that threatened to fall from her stinging eyes, Hailstorm slid to a stop beside Williams. The Gunnery Chief lay immobile on her side, one arm flung out before her, fingers forming a weak fist, the other arm cradling her side. Blood, an alarming amount had spread out around her before the medical exoskeleton built into her armour shot her full of coagulants and medi-gel.
With a grunt of effort, Storm took hold of the other woman in a fireman's carry across her shoulders and turned back to Fredericks and Shepard. Mouth set in a grim line, the Lieutenant made the trip back to the relative safety of the rocks that were her only safe harbour. As she drew closer, she could see Shepard shouting something but the words were lost amid the roaring of blood in her ears. It almost looked like her lips were shaping the words
"Get down!"
Oh no. Hayley had time to think before what felt like a sledgehammer slammed her between the shoulders and she fell the last few feet. Williams' limp form flew up and over, hitting the ground hard enough to send up little puffs of red dust from the arid ground.
Fading fast, Hayley felt two pairs of hands pull her behind cover just as another round exploded close to her head, slamming slivers of pulverised rock into her helmet.
Pain, unlike anything she'd felt in her life, washed over her as she lay on her back, staring helplessly at the azure sky and cumulus clouds scudding by high overhead. This isn't so bad, Hayles. If you have to die, at least you can go out looking at pretty clouds when you go. Better that than lying face down in the dirt like poor Ash over there. Ash!
Aware of the form of Fredericks looming over her, medi-gel hypospray in hand, Hayley dug deep and found the strength to shove his hand away. "Help...Ash," she managed to get out, feeling blood fill her mouth and trickle down her chin.
Fredericks paused. She was the officer and, much as he liked Ash, his training told him to assist the officer first. Hayley was having none of it.
"Help...Ash! That's a...fucking...order!"
Fredericks disappeared from view and Hayley's head rolled back to face the pretty clouds.
---
Sixteen hours earlier
"So let me see if I have this right," Williams began after Shepard had wrapped up her pre-mission brief. Williams leaned forward in her seat in the comm room aboard the Normandy. Seated beside her Storm arched her back against the seat back and her spine crackled dully.
"Executor Pallin, the same Executor Pallin who just happens to despise the underhanded," Williams' voice did a fair imitation of the head of Citadel Security and the rest of the squad laughed, "Spectres came to you for help with busting up a red sand production facility?" Williams sat back in her seat, looking faintly shocked.
Shepard rose from her seat and paced the limited floor space. Feet were drawn up against chairs to avoid being stepped on. "Friend Pallin wasn't ecstatic with the idea but C-Sec patrols, acting on a tip-off tracked a freighter to a system right on the edges of the Terminus System. Pallin was iffy about sending in the troops without first letting the Council know."
Hailstorm spoke up, "And the Council wasn't willing to have C-Sec's presence spark a war with the Terminus Systems, especially so soon after the geth invasion."
Shepard nodded, "Right. And since we possess the only working example of stealth technology," a smile twisted the Commander's lips, "And what have the scientists been doing all this time, watching asari fetish porn and jerking off?"
"Ewwww!" Williams and Storm said at the same time. Fredericks laughed.
"Anyway, the Executor kindly asked us to go in, real quiet-like and bust things up. Hopefully without upsetting the fragile galactic 'peace,'" Shepard made quotation marks with her fingers.
As the assembled group left the comm room, Fredericks turned to Storm and Williams, "Either of you ever had red sand?"
Smirking, Storm answered, "I'm sure that even if I had, I wouldn't be stupid enough to brag about it within earshot of a Spectre, Private."
Apparently not getting the implied rebuke, Fredericks went on, "I tried it once, a few years back, before I enlisted. Really screws with your mind. I saw all these swirly colours and stuff."
As he left, following the Commander, Williams leaned in towards Storm, "Y'know, LT, that explains a lot about him."
---
The frigate entered the Damascus system at 0010 hours Zulu. As was her custom before a mission, Hayley had recorded a vid-message for her family should the unthinkable happen and she was shipped home in a box draped with the Alliance flag.
It wasn't something she liked to dwell on but sometimes, Bitch-Girl from the depths of her mind would come sauntering out of the shadows, into the light and say, So, recording another message home, Hayles? That's like, sooo touching, I might cry! You do realise you'e a dead woman walking? What, you didn't? Jesus God! You really are as naively stupid as you look in the mirror. You should have had the good sense to lie down and die with the rest of of you platoon on Torfan but here you are, on the most advanced ship in the fleet.
Ask yourself, honey: Do I deserve to be here? Well, DO I?
With an effort of will, Hayley forced her darker self back into her box and locked it down tight.
"I just wanted to send you guys a quick note before we drop. You know how much I love you all, right? Julian, you tell those beautiful nieces of mine that I'm thinking of them and I'll come visit as soon as I can."
Hayley gave the blinking red eye of the vidrecorder a brave smile and turned if off. Silent tears slid down her cheeks.
She stared as a hand came down on her shoulder and squeezed gently. "Hey, LT. Are you OK?"
Hurriedly Hayley wiped away the tears with the heel of her hand. "Yeah, I'm fine."
Williams looked doubtful. The blonde woman smiled up at her, "Let's go kick some red sand-dealer ass, Williams. What do you say?"
"Oorah!" Williams shouted.
---
Hayley's last thought before darkness claimed her for its own was: It's the twins' birthday next month. I need to buy something for them.
Beep...beep...beep
The shrill, annoying bleeping was the only thing wrong with the paradise Hayley currently found herself in. The place was gorgeous - rolling green hills, towering trees providing ample shade from the sun, ripe fruit hanging from branches. Hayley's teeth bit through the skin of an apple and sweet juice flooded into her mouth. Oh my God that's good.
As she crunched the apple, she looked down at herself. Something about her appearance was off. Several somethings, actually. She wasn't wearing her shipboard black and grey fatigues or her Mantis medium hardsuit. Instead she was clad in a diaphanous gown of white that fluttered against her ankles in the breeze. The gentle breeze felt wonderful as it teased her unbound hair.
The other thing that was off was the scarring. Rather, the lack of it. The lightly tanned skin of her right arm was free of the marks left by the shrapnel injuries she'd sustained on Torfan. Already knowing what she'd see and feeling a tickle of unease, Hayley pulled the gown aside from her chest and noted the scarring along her right side and thigh was also gone, leaving only pristine skin.
"What'd I do? Finally cave into vanity and have cosmetic surgery? I think I'd remember doing that."
The voice that answered her was a pleasant surprise. "In this place, everything is perfect, Hayley. Everything is...wonderful."
Hayley didn't know where her brother had come from but here he was, wearing a simple white long sleeved shirt and loose pants. Casting aside the half-eaten apple, Hayley ran to him and threw herself into the circle of his strong arms. She rested her head against the solidity of his shoulder. "Jules!" she gasped, feeling ten years old again. "What are you doing here?"
Her brother stepped away from her, looking grim.
Beep...beep...beep. Where was that coming from? Annoyed, Hayley cocked her head to one side and heard, so faintly she convinced herself it was her imagination, a familiar voice.
"She's still bleeding out from somewhere! Get me another unit of O positive, stat!"
"You have a choice to make, now, Hayley. You can stay here," Julian gestured around them at the pristine rolling green fields and fruit orchards. "And you'll never again know pain or fear or doubt."
"Awesome!" Hayley quipped. Julian frowned slightly.
"But know that, if you make that choice, you leave behind everybody you know and love. Me, Mum and Dad. Your comrades...the girls."
Hayley frowned now. Leave behind her nieces? For all time? Could she do that to them? Could she leave them behind just so she could enjoy this luxury forever? Could she be that selfish?
Ah go on, Hayles Bitch-Girl whispered slyly. If you go back, what do you have to look forward to? A painful rehabilitation is the least of your worries, honey. And believe me, you took a hell of a hit just now. It isn't a bullet hole in your back so much as a crater!
As for the girls? Hell, they're young! Chances are in a few years, they'll barely be able to remember your face, much less who you are. And really, don't you kinda deserve to die? You know, for not buying the farm on Torfan when you and I both know you really should have?
Sudden anger sparked in Hayley's hazel eyes. No, not anger. Fury. Utter wrath. "Don't you ever talk about my nieces like that, you fucking whore! I'm going back, damn you! And if you ever stick your nose into my business again, ever, I swear by every saint and angel that ever was, I'll find a way to excise you from my mind! I swear I'll kill you!"
The gorgeous rolling green hills and fruit orchards wavered and disappeared. Before he too vanished, Julian smiled and nodded at his little sister. "I'll see you on the other side, Hayles."
---
Beep...beep...beep
The electronic beeping, oh so familiar, was the first thing to impinge upon her drug-induced haze. Well, this feels familiar. Let's see here, with a supreme effort, Hayley twitched her right hand and felt the faint tug of the IV in the back of her hand. Oh yeah, there it is! And that annoying beeping would be the cheerful sound of your heart still beating! Yay us!
The next thing to register was a tired-sounding voice, seemingly on the edge of tears, "Hayley?" The voice rose in a shout, "Dr Chakwas! She's waking up! Get in here!"
A very weak smile came into being on her chapped lips. "Shep....ard," she managed to get out through her parched mouth. A gentle hand stroked her forehead as she heard footsteps bustling in. "You're going to be OK, Hayles. D'you hear me? You're gonna be fine!"
The young woman in the medbay never thought she'd see the day but the Commander, the strongest person she'd ever known was openly crying over her. Her.
Fighting against the drugs awash in her system, Hayley managed to ask what was, for her the most important question of all. "Where's...Ash? Did she...did she make it?"
Just before Chakwas guided her away from the bed, Shepard, still crying answered, "Yeah. You saved her life, Hayles. It was a near thing but she pulled through. She said to tell you...that you're like some guardian angel."
That faint, beautiful smile still on her lips, Hayley's eyes slid closed and she slept.