Withheldforprivacy: What if Jane had never lost her boot? (Remember he catches her by her toes)

I have not seen Tarzan for some time, though I do enjoy the movie. So I may have gotten the setup a little wrong, I apologize. But nonetheless, I hope this short one-shot is enjoyable.

It came in flashes, the memories. An image… a sound… explosive pain. She had leapt from the edge of a cliff, trapped between the choice of being torn apart by the baboons, or risking what lie just a leap away. Trees, much further down than she ever imagined. The holler of an unfamiliar animal, clearly an ape of some sort, almost… human. The trees, much closer. She could actually see the brush below through the few breaks in the canopy. The ruffle of leaves. A loud crack accompanied the instantaneous agony. Was that the branch she impacted, or her own bones breaking? The darkness came just before she could make out the wet mud between the brush.

Jane regained consciousness. She immediately begged to return to the darkness. She wanted to scream, but every cursed bone in her chest was aflame, breathing was a feat. She couldn't muster the willpower to scream. Wh-what… what… hap-happened? She thought, her own mind stuttering the words as she struggled to form any coherent thought through this hell. Her limbs joined the cacophony of torment. There was sound around her, but she couldn't identify a one. She opened her eyes, her vision almost too blurred to be of any use. What few shapes she could make out she couldn't identify, the accursed pain overwhelming all her senses. Her mouth was filled with the taste of metal, almost salty. I want to go back to the dark… the thought vague, spotty. She just wanted to return to wherever she was between seeing that muddy ground, and opening her eyes again to… this.

Tarzan had descended to the forest floor as fast as he was able, desperate to find the creature just like me he failed to catch. He saw her leap from the cliff tailed by a troupe of baboons. He tried to help her flee but he dropped her. He tried to reach for her, but damn it he missed. Since when did he fail when reaching for something? Not since childhood. Had he been shocked by that odd yellow coating she had that wasn't fur? Shouldn't have mattered. He shouldn't have allowed her to fall. I have to find her. She's like me, she's a hairless gorilla.

It took hardly any time for him to make it below the canopy and find where she had fallen. Bent and broken branches marked her fall, punctuated by an unusual silence as the local birds had flown away, insects startled into fearful silence, leaving the air painfully quiet. She was lying on the ground, and for several moments he feared Sabor had found her. Her face was caked in blood, he could hear the gurgle in her throat, the crackling of her labored exhalations. Her limbs were coated in lacerations, and it was hard to distinguish what was drying blood and what was the clay-colored mud stuck to her skin. He approached slowly, knowing how dangerous a wounded animal could be. No matter how severe an injury, the risk was always there.

He tilted his head as he looked at her, trying to see what she looked like. She was like him, he needed to know what she was. What he was. He had lost this opportunity to learn who he was. Damn it! Why did I drop her?! He cursed, slamming his fist into the nearest tree. Pain erupted in his joints, helping to soothe the rage roiling in his heart. He had to ask his mother what he was. He had to know why Kerchak hated him so. Why he was the hairless freak. Why were his legs so long and thin compared to his brethren? Why could he walk upright? Why was he better at fashioning more complex tools? What was he? What was she? Questions he could never answer. He knew there was no surviving this fall. There was far too much blood, the air thick with the smell of it, and he knew what that breathing looked like. He had seen it after a member of his family had been attacked by Sabor. They had chased the beast away, but the injuries were to grave. This hairless gorilla's breaths matched those of the mauled gorilla.

Jane had mercifully slipped back into unconsciousness, falling back into the darkness. Tarzan reached out, placing a hand upon her chest. He could just barely feel her thread pulse beneath his hand, her heart beating far too quickly. He remembered his mother showing him how to feel her heartbeat, to show him they were family. She looked like him, but her heart was so different. It was too fast, too faint. He put a hand against his own chest. His heart raced anxiously in his chest, but it could not match the racing taps beneath his other hand. Wake up, just wake up long enough for me to ask what you are. What I am. I need to know! He pulled his hand away, examining his palm. A sticky layer of blood coated his hand.

The young woman only struggled for a few more minutes before the irregular rapid breaths ceased. Tarzan reached a hand out over her chest again, and there was no thread pulse beneath his palm. A furious roar burned his throat, made his chest ache; the birds who dared venture back to the area scared away once more brining back the eerie silence. To his surprise a sound echoed his angry cry. It sounded like thunder, or the crack of when lightning struck a tree. But there was no storm, no explanation. What could have made that strange noise? He frowned down at the body of the dead hairless gorilla, and knowing there was nothing left he could do for her left to try and find the source of the storm-less thunder.

Tarzan peered through the thick foliage as he finally caught up to the source of the strange sound. There were more of the like me animals, these upright hairless gorillas. They made strange sounds; completely unlike the language of the gorillas. Like the strange not-fur yellow coverings that had been on the other one, they too were covered. It was similar to the cloth he bore around his groin for protection, only more colorful, and covered the entirety of their bodies.

What does mother about these creatures? She found me, she must know about these others who are like me. He pondered. He wondered what Kerchack knew about them. The family's silverback had always shown animosity towards him, did he know about these like-me creatures? Did he know something about these hairless gorillas, and that was the source of his anger? I need to know more.

Curiosity failed to describe what was taking over him. He stared at these two, clearly the males of the species. Where did they come from? Why I have I never seen them in the jungle until now? Tarzan pondered, carefully moving closer. Suddenly the thunder-sound came again, deafeningly loud. His ears rang as the sound began to fade away, and he saw how all around him branches were damaged. He looked closer, and saw a strange stick in the hand of the taller of the two hairless-gorillas. It seemed to be the source of the sound and the source of the destruction. Something about that stuck unsettled him, how could it damage the trees and brush without touching them? How does it make such a sound? Questions, so many questions. He shook his head, trying to regain his countenance. He had to ask his mother, she had to know about this.

He left, making his way back to his family. The 5 kilometer trek felt arduous, he was too anxious to get back and inquire about these creatures that were just like him. He felt a sharp pang of guilt for the death of the female. No longer distracted by the desire to investigate the stormless thunder, his mind was allowed to wander back to her fatal fall. I missed. I dropped her, and I missed her. He thought to himself. It's my fault. It's all my fault… He could have asked her about what he was. He could have learned more about himself, about her, about them. He wondered if his mother would ever forgive him…

The family was eating, but the tumultuous emotions swirling inside him made it impossible for him to even consider eating. He ran frantically, earning skeptical looks from the others. He found his mother near the center of the group, enjoying some fruit.

"Mother,"

"Tarzan?" she turned to him, her calm expression quickly shifting to one of concern. "What's wrong?" He didn't answer her until he was close enough that he could speak quietly so only she could hear. He was enough of a freak, he didn't want the others to hear. He was enough of a freak, he didn't want them thinking he was crazy too with talks of like-me hairless gorillas until he knew more.

"There's others. Like me," he was never one for subtly. "I saw them in the jungle. They're hairless except the tops of their head, they have long legs and stand upright, their hands are small… they… they look just like me," he blurted quickly and for several painful moments he feared his own mother would dismiss this claim and call him crazy.

"You saw… others. Like you?" She clarified, and put her fruit down. She had wondered for many years if more of those hairless apes would appear in the jungle. She didn't know what they were or where they came from. But she knew where she could help get Tarzan answers. "Tarzan… there's something I should have told you many years ago," she began, eyes downcast. "I… I found you. You were not born in this clan. Or any gorilla clan." She started, and Tarzan felt his vision close in on itself. So it's true. All this time… I wasn't actually a gorilla. I wasn't some mutant freak. I'm something else. "Come,"

His mother had shown him the tree house. He saw the pictures of himself, of his parents. They were like him. Upright, long legs, hairless, small hands. The curiosity was insatiable. He couldn't help himself. He needed to see them more. He needed to learn more about them. He tried to listen to his mother's story of his adoption. Of what Sabor did to her first son, did to his biological parents. Tears came. Emotions he couldn't put words to. He needed to see them. He needed to learn more. He needed to be near the others like-me. He left his worried mother behind to find them.

***
"Clayton, what if we never find her?"

"I am sure she'll return professor," Clayton replied dismissively. He had a feeling she wouldn't. It was rare that someone became lost in the jungle and returned. Probably eaten by some large cat, or those savage gorillas. He turned away so the professor wouldn't see him roll his eyes, and to get away from the insufferable weeping. Good God man, pull yourself together. It's not like she was his son. Just a woman, an annoyingly curious one too.

"We should go back out there," he wept, sick with worry for his missing daughter. He had lost his darling wife, he couldn't lose Jane too. Why did he let her talk him into this dangerous expedition? Hiring this bodyguard didn't help.

"It will be dark soon," Clayton tried to feign concern,

"All the more reason to find her!" Archimedes sniffled,

"We are no use to her if we go wandering into the jungle at night only to get lost ourselves. We can resume the search in the morning," He insisted. "She's an intelligent woman," there's an oxymoron if I've ever heard one, he thought to himself. "I'm sure wherever she is she'll stay put to make it easier to find her," he wasn't looking forward to a fruitless day of searching. But it would be a good way to get the professor to unwittingly look for those gorillas with him, perhaps he could come up with some way to get the professor to suggest that the gorillas would have taken her, getting him to lead him to the beasts.

A thump caught their attentions, and they quickly turned to find a half-naked dirt-coated man crouching at the edge of their camp. Clayton lifted his gun, and before Archemedes could stop him, the hunter pulled the trigger.

So I don't know how satisfied I am with this, I may revisit this again later. I struggled for days to get this out, and I'm just not happy with it. I hope you enjoyed though.