I know that Project Orpheus wasn't exactly a big favorite amongst many, but it's one of those things I think is really kind of hard to sweep under the rug (although nuAMC is certainly trying). Kinda like trying to stuff a portly genie back in a bottle : ) I do think the basic idea, although it could get a little sci-fi, had some intriguing possibilities with all of the stem cell research being done. All things considered, I decided to use the idea in this story and explore the benefits, and the ramifications…
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Years.
Years it had taken not to see her baby's face every time she slept…when she could sleep.
Even then God wasn't so cruel as to make the dream haunt her waking hours.
But Opal was wide awake now; she had even rubbed her eyes to prove the point.
And her sweet baby was still there.
The ultimate cruelty this time, because Jenny was as she would be. Older, more beautiful, if possible: the woman she was meant to become.
"No, please."
It was her last grasp. Last defense. An attempt to give back the miracle before it took everything away from her.
"Mama…"
That was her Tad. Her steady rock. She reached toward his voice. Reached for everything she was worth, because he would give her that cheeky grin and chide her for passing out, regular sack of potatoes, in the middle of her own party. He would make things real again.
And her boy was sporting that grin: that wonderful, beautiful grin, bigger than it'd been in so long.
It was only rivaled by the amazingly crooked smile next to it.
Her boy and her baby girl. Together.
She reached out again, and her trembling fingers touched both. Touched light
Light that ignited, brightened.
"Oh…."
The word, this time her own, was equally trembling.
"Oh -"
"It's real, Mama."
Then she had her babies in her arms and nothing else mattered.
The psychic without the benefit of her premonitions, delivered the best vision of her life.
####
No train whistles. No slow-motion. No fog forcing everything else away.
Different, but the same.
It was still just them.
And she was still the woman for whom he'd gladly jump off a thousand buildings.
Jesse closed his eyes at the first touch. Caressed, like a hungry man – a starving man - the soft, firm skin. Savored one lungful (because he couldn't bring himself to exhale and take in a second) of the perfume without the price tag: earthy and unmistakably her. Heard the subtle steel that was her voice, her trademark - whittled down to syllables, sounds comprehensible only to them. And tasted….God, he tasted that once-and-gone moment when everything rises, converges….and sets itself right. That grab for perfect. Tasted it for everything it was worth.
He closed his eyes because he could not open them to a fading dream.
Not again.
Not ever again.
But a sweet teasing underneath his eyes, with slow, almost reverent circular movements, wiped away the moisture collected there. Wiped away the doubts.
Caught ti all.
His dream-catcher, coaxing.
Jesse opened his eyes to see his dream, fully formed. Pressed fully against him, her heartbeat awakening him. Bringing him back to life, all over again.
"How –"
And giving him that smile that crushed the half-formed question.
Because right then, he didn't give two hot damns about the answer.
"Shh." The only acknowledgement before she brought that smile, and those eyes, closer.
And that's all the answer he needed.
####
Watching the scenes in front of him unfold felt like watching a movie. There was apprehension as his companions approached shocked loved ones, followed by joy and even a little water in the eyes as those whitened expressions transformed into joy he would have once laughed off as some impossible pipe dream.
But there was also a disconnect. A distance. The fact was that he could only pick about four people in this room out of a lineup, and the ones he did know were otherwise, rightfully occupied.
His companions were where they needed to be, at last.
Where he needed to be: right beside a hospital bed miles away.
When his heart and his feet took their first steps toward the door, toward that destination, a light touch on the shoulder stopped him.
Leo turned to see one of those aforementioned faces in the lineup sporting an easy and somehow knowing smile – one only she could manage.
His own smile tugging at his lips, he shrugged, scanning the room again and settling on two people who were willfully entrapped in a world of their own making. "Would you look at that? Upstaged at my own back-from-the-dead pow-wow. A guy just can't catch a break, huh?"
Erica responded by capturing him in a surprisingly strong hug. Quite a feat considering the rather noticeable height difference, but he'd gladly take the momentary crick in his back.
"Welcome home," she said, minus her usual flourish. The words socked him in the gut nonetheless.
"Thanks," he whispered, returning the hug in full before raising back up.
"David?" A rhetorical question if ever one existed.
At his nod, she surprised him again by simply stating, "He did good."
"I guess Pine Valley's kinda used to this whole thing by now."
She waved a hand. "But of course. The whole risen from the grave, so passé."
Sharing a smile, they turned, shoulder-to-shoulder, as they again played temporary intruders on the proceedings. Assorted tuxes and dresses milled in the background, confused extras to the star attractions that had stolen the show.
"You might want to corral your guests and smooth things over. They're probably not schooled in the ways of us hard-core townsfolk," Leo observed.
"Well, they'd better learn fast, if they plan to stay in this town long."
Erica glanced up at him, a reminder of how amazing – and a little scary – it was to talk to someone a few good feet below you and still feel as if they were meeting you eye-to-eye. Only two people in his life had ever invoked that feeling.
"You were going to Greenlee?" Another skill of hers. The question that never really becomes a question.
His hands fidgeted in his pockets. "She already knows."
"I surmised as much."
And his eyes squinted. "And so does your daughter."
That did catch Erica's attention. So much so that he was preparing for his first sound lecture, or at least a good old-fashioned Kane wallop, when Erica reached her hand out expectantly.
He took it partly because he was relieved, and touched, to be spirited away by a familiar face…and partly because he didn't want to find out what happened if he refused an Erica Kane dictate.
"If I may ask, where are we going?"
Erica quirked one sculpted eyebrow. "To see the rest of your family, of course."
####
"Have you tried this?"
Normally, the resulting smirk would give him pause.
Then again, normal flew out the window the minute he took on David Hayward as a lab partner.
David, who was now adjusting the serum to Joe's specifications, and carefully adding the volatile chemical Joe suggested. He held the clear liquid up to the light, then slid a droplet under the microscope. That smirk only grew.
Joe didn't know whether to feel hopeful, or worried.
After a few interminable ticks of the clock, David looked up and offered one frank assessment: "By Joe, I do believe we've got it."