open_flame: (Crying - Comic)
[personal profile] open_flame
Characters: Liz Sherman, numerous mentions of Jack Harkness.
Fandom: Hellboy, Torchwood (Bump in the Night Verse)
Rating: PG ( Mentions of death. Despair and angst)
Word Count: 1300
Prompt: [livejournal.com profile] scifi_muses vol2.week21
The Nightmare before Christmas - Sally’s Song
Setting: Agartha Temple- The Ural Mountains, Russia (Bump in the Night Verse)
AN: Liz goes to Agartha after this thread. Borrowed Dialog from BPRD: Hollow Earth

The road, if one could even call the narrow and snow covered trail that she followed up the mountain a road, seemed to go on for years. The communications equipment Liz Sherman had brought with her when she took a literal leap of faith after the latest mission, the one that had ended horribly, had stopped working days ago. The fear that she was going to die out here was not an invalid one.

Dr. Corrigan had assured her the mission was an overall success, with none of the typical agent causalities. Despite the fact he used the time vortex more times than she had ever seen him need it in such a short time, Jack also tried to assure her that everything turned out all right and that he was fine, like he always said he was. Jack was always fine.

But, she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t stay on that plane and fly back to headquarters and have someone say ‘Job well done’ to her when she knew what she had done.

She killed someone. It was of course not the first time it had happened, and if her track record was any indication, it would surely not be the last. Still, every life she took, regardless of if it was accidental or not so accidental, chipped away at her soul and her mind in a way she couldn’t begin to describe.

The bitter wind ripped at what little of her skin was exposed. Jack had suggested she bring extra layers, and though she dismissed the idea defiantly, she found herself wishing she’d listened to him, like she did all too often.

Hunger had been gnawing at her for days, the rations of food she took used up far too soon. Melted snow, of which there was more than enough, gave her water but the lack of nourishment had started to make her mind fuzz with memories; good, bad and those she was unsure how she felt about.

The screams for vengeance from the prince whose wife Liz had let fall to her death were the most predominate, of course. Though his parents, the king and queen assured them all that the prince would remain imprisoned for the rest of his immortal life, the nagging worry wouldn’t leave Liz’s mind. What would happen if…or when he gained his freedom? Would he come for them, for her? For Jack? For the entire BPRD because of what she’d done? Or would the years soften his fury. She doubted it. The years didn’t soften the guilt that plagued her everyday for the death of her family and neighbors when she was a child. Even though everyone told her it wasn’t her fault, she knew deep down that it was.

To make matters that much worse for her already troubled mind, what happened immediately following the princess’s death was the only other thing she could think of as she made her way across the frozen peaks of the Ural Mountains.

She’d faced death at Jack’s side before; it was all part of the job. But this time was different. As the ancient fortress came crashing down, he did what he always did. He took charge and protected her, just like he promised to always do all those years ago when he found her in Kansas City. This time however, it was different.

He kissed her.

She’d told herself it was a stress-induced moment of temporary psychosis. That he was sure she was going to die in that moment, and that was why he did it. It wasn’t that he…cared about her like that. He couldn’t. Could he?

Her eyes started to prickle with tears as she dropped her head, hearing her long dead mothers voice echoing in her head, telling her that her face would freeze if she cried in the sub zero temperatures.

She’d convinced herself that the kiss meant nothing to him. That part of it was easy, actually. The part that proved more difficult was the fact that it meant something to her. It meant everything. She played the chaotic events back over in her head a hundred times over in the days, perhaps weeks that she walked. Every time, every single instant the memory of his lips on hers, and the way it felt so …right made her shiver more than the cold mountain air.

She pushed the thoughts away again and again, but they never stayed away long. Part of her wished that she were back home, where people would be looking at her, noticing the looks on her face. Then she would have a reason to force herself to stop smiling when she thought about that moment, that blink of an eye when all those little day dreams and fleeting thoughts that he could maybe…possible…in her wildest of dream actually love her had come true, just for a moment.

When the realization hit her, she had nearly reached the Temple that she’d given up hope on ever finding. She was too caught up in herself to notice.

When a girl first realizes she’s in love, she often laughs, she dances, and wants to scream it from the rooftops for the entire world to hear. But not Liz. She was in love; truly deeply in love for the first time in her life and the thought of it tore her apart inside more than the thought that she’d killed someone who’d been in love.

She was lost in the process of dealing with what she was sure was an unrequited love when she heard a voice. She blinked and raised her head; not believing the voice was real.

“Welcome.” a thin man as old as Trevor Broom, maybe older, stood before her. Behind him towered great wooden door with ornate metalwork. She opened her mouth to speak, but days of not using her voice made it hardly a whisper.

“Is…” She swallowed hard, believing for a moment that she was dead. Died a death that so many who traveled the mountain had done. She entertained the idea that death was her reward, or perhaps her punishment for all she’d done in her short life.

The wind shifted, a blast of cold on her tear soaked face making her realize that…this was real. She’d found it. “Is this Agartha?” She said as she stumbled up the stairs.

“Agartha is a dream…” The small man in orange robes said with a knowing look on his wrinkled face.

“It isn’t real?” Liz fell forward, the exhaustion of the journey and the emotional uprooting events that preceded it finally getting the better of her. “Oh…God.” She didn’t care that her mothers voice echoed in her ears. Liz Sherman cried; she cried harder than she had in years for so much more than the fact that her last hope to tame the force inside her was nothing but a dream.

“Do not despair child,” The monk stepped forward, placing a skeletal hand on her shoulder. Liz was sure she felt something she’d nearly forgotten existed in that moment. Something she missed, even though it reminded her of the curse that lay sleeping inside her. Warmth.

She picked her head up, looking first as the doors, which had parted to reveal a light that was brighter than the sun on the pure white snow. Brighter than her uncontrollable fire at its brightest. Her eyes flicked over to the monk, his thin lips now formed in a bright smile. He pulled her to her feet, and with a gently push, lead her inside the temple with the four words that would change her life forever. “That dream lives here.”

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Liz Sherman

March 2020

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