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Characters: Liz Sherman -Harkness, Trevor Harkness (Age 20)
Mentions for King Belenus, Jack Harkness
Fandom: Hellboy/Torchwood
Setting: Bump in the Night Verse
Rating: PG-13 (mentions of violence and angst)
Word Count: 2350
Prompt: Torch Song – AFI
Leave me, leave me to grieve that nothing's lost, nothing's lost
Leave me, But when you leave me, know nothing's lost, nothing's lost
100_fairytales - 096:Unusual Hearing
Author's Notes: This takes place about 6 hours after Liz takes the Oath of the Seelie Fae Fire Knight, and the night before she, her children and John Hart return to New Jersey.
captain_flyboy and
king_belenus are used with the full consent of their mun. Super hugs to
captain_flyboy for the beta and
keep_them_safe for the (eventual, when she feels better) grammar smack.
It had been nearly a full 24 hours since she'd seen Jack. Ordinarily, this wouldn't phase Liz that much. She'd frown a little more than usual, then head to bed like always. The only difference would be that with Jack gone, she'd forgo a slip in favor of one of his t-shirts she pulled from laundry hamper and swap pillows for the one on her husband's side of the bed. It was an unbelievably girly and, depending on Liz's mood, weak thing to do in her opinion, but no one ever saw it. That made it OK.
That wouldn't do a damn thing to help this time, because there would be no 'See you in 17 hours, sweetheart.' text on her phone when she woke. No big blue circle on the calendar that Trevor and Thomas insisted they needed to know exactly when Daddy would be home. There was no comfort in thinking “Jack will be home, soon.”
Liz was amazed at how readily the twins accepted the “your father had to go away on emergency business” excuse. This was because coupling the news with telling them they could sleep in their parents bed, and make a fort from the mountain of plush blankets and pillows made it easier to deal with Dad suddenly 'leaving'. After less than twenty minutes of playing, the twins were passed out in a pile of blankets, both of them clinging to their father's pillow just like Liz would have been if she could bring herself to sleep.
She was heavy on her feet as she moved out to the beach, leaving her shoes behind just like Jack had done the day they renewed their marriage vows on that same stretch of Caribbean island. And just like she'd seen him do from afar that day, she scooped up a handful of crystal white sand, slowly letting it drop thought her fingers as the gravity of the situation hit her. Her out stretched hand began to glow, liquifying the sand, sending ribbons of glass though her fingers, onto the beach and into the ocean with a gentle hiss that was hardly audible over the waves.
To her credit, Liz hasn't cried. Crying always made her feel more human somehow, but she didn't want that this time. Her fire, however, just like that little mantra she learned years ago in the Ural Mountains of Russia, really was her. If she refused to acknowledge her emotions, it would do it for her. Soon, there were hundreds of tiny discs of cloudy glass in the sand, formed as Liz bled off every bit of excess energy she could to keep herself sane. She didn't even realize she was doing it until she stopped, turning slowly to see the beach littered with little discs as far as she could see. The tide has washed away her footprints, but not the little plates of reformed silica.
Liz bent down to pick up a disc, marveling at the perfect roundness of it. Such control, and she didn't even know she was doing it consciously. Her fire, if it could speak, would surely have snorted, telling her that once again, it knew what she needed on the most basic level even better than she did. But she'd hear that soon enough.
Then she heard something else. Or more accurately, felt it. It was as if someone had imbedded a comm speaker in her brain and left the volume way too high. There was just as much painful static, if not more as the frantic voice broke though the sounds of the island.
'Ma!'
She shock off the invasion of her mind made her jump. “Wow...” Liz coughed, a wave of nausea washing over her, then passing just as quickly. Too much fire. she thought to herself as she sat in the sand, sucking in deep breaths of salty sea air.
She'd had voices in her head before, but she'd never been awake when it happened. Maybe that's why Liz was sure it was one of those, what did they call them back at Bellemie? Stress-Induced Psychotic Episode. Yeah, that was what this was.
A minute passed, maybe more. Liz was considering standing when another assault hit her upside the head. She winced, toppling over involuntarily. Her hand flew up to her face, sure she'd been struck by something and she was gushing blood all over the beach.
As though on cue, the second Liz's mind was distracted, the voice pushed inside her head again. ' Ma! Listen to me. NOW!'
Still sure she was under some sort of attack, Liz panicked. Not for her own safety but that of her son. She of course recognized Trevor's voice. But something was different. Not wrong, just off. It was past midnight, why was he up? Why was he outside? “Baby, go back inside!” Liz shouted as she tried to right herself.
Again the voice echoed inside her head, less frantic and more annoyed this time. 'I'm not outside, Ma. Just listen to me, damn it!' That took her off guard, and she nearly fell over again. Letting out the fire always made her woozy, often to the point of passing out but the adrenaline that replaced her blood wouldn't let that happened this time. “Trev-” She started to stand, looking around the shore for her son but, instead was cut off by another projection in her head that knocked her on her ass. 'DON'T SAY MY NAME! They can hear you. They're watching you. The island isn't safe anymore.'
Trevor's shout echoed, the sound reverberating on her skull like when a gun goes off too close to your ear. The ringing was almost too much for her to hear the next command from her son. Her adult son...who was trapped in Fae. “What...?”
'Stop it. Stop talking. Stop thinking. Stop everything.' It was a curious mix of Jack's 'hypno- voice' and the younger version of Trevor's pleading, worried voice. Liz stayed laying on the sand this time, blinking as she tried to stop...everything.
“How are you...?” She finally choked out as her fingers dug into the sand, trying to push away the pain of having someone else inside her head. For a fleeting moment she wondered if this is what Abe felt like when someone pushed a silent thought at him. It hurt, so much, but that too was fading with every new communication, just like the unsettling in her stomach. 'Where are you?' she directed a thought at Trevor without realizing it.
' I'm safe. Dad is safe. We're fine.' Trevor's voice was clear now, like the frequency of the comm that didn't exist has changed. It wasn't entirely true, but he knew the Fae didn't want him or his father dead. Yet. They were too important to kill, Jack especially. Trevor has spent his weeks in Fae observing, listening, making a note of how this past was changing every minute, every second. Each little difference that happened helped him piece the puzzle together.
In Trevor's time, The Brother of the Bad Wolf had never awoken, the tide of the Fae War hadn't shifted so suddenly. The imaginary road map Trevor had been following to urge his biologic and adopted family at the BPRD along might has well have been run though a shredder. Still, his mother took the Oath. About 3 months too late, but she still took it. That meant she was thinking of her children and her husband when she unwittingly forged a telepathic link with her fellow Knights, Nathan more than any of them. It meant she included them, all of them in a way she'd never intended to or would realize until much later. It took the Trevor who was pulled from his own time almost a day to realize why he suddenly felt so...normal again but now that he did, he was using it his advantage.
You need to step back and think, Ma. You're going about this all wrong. Trevor pushed quickly, knowing at any moment the mythical beings that aligned with the unSeelie would be there to check on him again. 'You have to stop being so stupid with this lonely hero crap and listen to Uncle Nathan.'
She opened her mouth to shout but instead pushed her anger back silently.'Don't tell me what to...think, Trevor Harkness! Don't tell me what to FEEL! I am your mother and you have no idea what I just did to keep you and your father safe tonight!' She'd collapsed on the sand then, shouting at nothing, shouting at everything. Shouting without making a single sound.
Liz was curled up in a ball on the beach, her entire body ringed in sorrowful blue flames as the sand bubbled into liquid around her. She wasn't saying a word anymore, her arms wrapped around her head as if to shut out the entire universe or failing that, the new voice in her head. Conflicting emotions flowed though her. Fear for her son, for her husband, for herself. Anger at herself, anger at the Fae, anger at the King for not warning her about all the things that would change when she took the Oath. Not that Liz actually let the Fae elder speak, nor would she have listened if he had. Not even King Belenus could have foretold the fact that an unclear mind would lead to a bond unbreakable by time and space between Liz, Jack and their children, both born and unborn.
Trevor knew, though. It was all in their past, which was Liz's present. Nathan had taught him and his twin brother to use the link well, and in turn they had taught their yet unborn baby sister to do the same. It was as simple as breathing to Trevor, as much as it was painful and unknown to Liz.
'Good, you got it. Now they can't hear you.' Trevor's assault on her mind was even less intense now, almost as if his was a fading memory instead of a projection he was pushing into her head. It was soothing, gentle, loving.
Trevor could feel her confusion, her fear and above all her anger. So much anger that was consuming her. Just like Dad... he thought to himself before he pushed another thought, no order, into his mother's thoughts. 'Ma. You can't come here, not yet. Trust me, you're not ready.'
'Why?' Liz again, without even knowing what she was doing pushed back a single word, a desperate pleading word. Isn't that WHY she took the oath, the reason she'd finally offered up herself as a pawn in the Fae's games; to save her family. Now Trevor was telling her not to. It made no sense.
'Just trust me. You need to go home right now. You need to train. Pack up your stuff, get us on the plane and go home. Bring John too, we'll need him later.' Trevor's voice was like Jack's during a mission briefing; authority, commanding, and Liz knew there was no saying no to him.
'You need the others, all of them. We can still win this thing, but you guys can't do it alone.' One of Trevor's eyes opened when he heard a sound. They were coming to check on him, right on time. They might ask him once again if they knew how to 'shut off' his father's brutal alter ego other than killing him. Trevor didn't, know of course, but that didn't stop them from trying to force it out of him very violently. He had to end the link, now, before they caught on that he could communicate with his blood family this way, and before his mother started feeling his apprehension at the next round of brutal interrogations.
He pushed one more thought into his mother's mind before he severed the telepathic link that opened when she took the Oath of the Fire Knight. 'I love you, Ma. Now go get the rest of our family and save the world.'
Then he was gone, as was the feeling her stomach had been turned inside out and her mind was under attack. It felt like waking up after an explosion, only the headache was worse, like someone had been stabbing at her brain with red hot poker. “NO! Wait!” She gasped as her eyes opened again, like she was just waking up from a nightmare.
Liz had sand stuck to her cheek. Sand, not ribbons of glass like she'd expected. Somehow in the course of it all, she'd rolled away from the pool of glass she'd created and onto a new patch of sand. Liz kept her eyes closed as she lay on the beach, the sound of the waves gradually replacing the ringing in her ears.
She wasn't crying anymore, she wasn't on fire and that awful feeling that she had to vomit was finally leaving her after weeks of being there. She was...calm. Not the forced calm she kept saved in reserve to stave off a blow up, but truly, purely calm.
She stayed on her stomach, digging her fingers into the beach, letting the little grains of sand trickle thought her fist again as she considered everything her son told her. She knew he was right, she knew the usual plan of going in guns blazing wouldn't do anything but get a shit ton of people killed. Not against this enemy. They needed help, she needed a team. An army.
Liz pushed her fingers into the sand again. Her hand was almost buried when she was forced to stop. She spread her hand out, searching for the obstacle that blocked her way deeper into the earth. When she pulled her hand out, a single perfect shell lay in her palm. “I hear you loud and clear, kid.” In spite of everything, or maybe because of it, Liz finally let herself smile.
Mentions for King Belenus, Jack Harkness
Fandom: Hellboy/Torchwood
Setting: Bump in the Night Verse
Rating: PG-13 (mentions of violence and angst)
Word Count: 2350
Prompt: Torch Song – AFI
Leave me, leave me to grieve that nothing's lost, nothing's lost
Leave me, But when you leave me, know nothing's lost, nothing's lost
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Author's Notes: This takes place about 6 hours after Liz takes the Oath of the Seelie Fae Fire Knight, and the night before she, her children and John Hart return to New Jersey.
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It had been nearly a full 24 hours since she'd seen Jack. Ordinarily, this wouldn't phase Liz that much. She'd frown a little more than usual, then head to bed like always. The only difference would be that with Jack gone, she'd forgo a slip in favor of one of his t-shirts she pulled from laundry hamper and swap pillows for the one on her husband's side of the bed. It was an unbelievably girly and, depending on Liz's mood, weak thing to do in her opinion, but no one ever saw it. That made it OK.
That wouldn't do a damn thing to help this time, because there would be no 'See you in 17 hours, sweetheart.' text on her phone when she woke. No big blue circle on the calendar that Trevor and Thomas insisted they needed to know exactly when Daddy would be home. There was no comfort in thinking “Jack will be home, soon.”
Liz was amazed at how readily the twins accepted the “your father had to go away on emergency business” excuse. This was because coupling the news with telling them they could sleep in their parents bed, and make a fort from the mountain of plush blankets and pillows made it easier to deal with Dad suddenly 'leaving'. After less than twenty minutes of playing, the twins were passed out in a pile of blankets, both of them clinging to their father's pillow just like Liz would have been if she could bring herself to sleep.
She was heavy on her feet as she moved out to the beach, leaving her shoes behind just like Jack had done the day they renewed their marriage vows on that same stretch of Caribbean island. And just like she'd seen him do from afar that day, she scooped up a handful of crystal white sand, slowly letting it drop thought her fingers as the gravity of the situation hit her. Her out stretched hand began to glow, liquifying the sand, sending ribbons of glass though her fingers, onto the beach and into the ocean with a gentle hiss that was hardly audible over the waves.
To her credit, Liz hasn't cried. Crying always made her feel more human somehow, but she didn't want that this time. Her fire, however, just like that little mantra she learned years ago in the Ural Mountains of Russia, really was her. If she refused to acknowledge her emotions, it would do it for her. Soon, there were hundreds of tiny discs of cloudy glass in the sand, formed as Liz bled off every bit of excess energy she could to keep herself sane. She didn't even realize she was doing it until she stopped, turning slowly to see the beach littered with little discs as far as she could see. The tide has washed away her footprints, but not the little plates of reformed silica.
Liz bent down to pick up a disc, marveling at the perfect roundness of it. Such control, and she didn't even know she was doing it consciously. Her fire, if it could speak, would surely have snorted, telling her that once again, it knew what she needed on the most basic level even better than she did. But she'd hear that soon enough.
Then she heard something else. Or more accurately, felt it. It was as if someone had imbedded a comm speaker in her brain and left the volume way too high. There was just as much painful static, if not more as the frantic voice broke though the sounds of the island.
'Ma!'
She shock off the invasion of her mind made her jump. “Wow...” Liz coughed, a wave of nausea washing over her, then passing just as quickly. Too much fire. she thought to herself as she sat in the sand, sucking in deep breaths of salty sea air.
She'd had voices in her head before, but she'd never been awake when it happened. Maybe that's why Liz was sure it was one of those, what did they call them back at Bellemie? Stress-Induced Psychotic Episode. Yeah, that was what this was.
A minute passed, maybe more. Liz was considering standing when another assault hit her upside the head. She winced, toppling over involuntarily. Her hand flew up to her face, sure she'd been struck by something and she was gushing blood all over the beach.
As though on cue, the second Liz's mind was distracted, the voice pushed inside her head again. ' Ma! Listen to me. NOW!'
Still sure she was under some sort of attack, Liz panicked. Not for her own safety but that of her son. She of course recognized Trevor's voice. But something was different. Not wrong, just off. It was past midnight, why was he up? Why was he outside? “Baby, go back inside!” Liz shouted as she tried to right herself.
Again the voice echoed inside her head, less frantic and more annoyed this time. 'I'm not outside, Ma. Just listen to me, damn it!' That took her off guard, and she nearly fell over again. Letting out the fire always made her woozy, often to the point of passing out but the adrenaline that replaced her blood wouldn't let that happened this time. “Trev-” She started to stand, looking around the shore for her son but, instead was cut off by another projection in her head that knocked her on her ass. 'DON'T SAY MY NAME! They can hear you. They're watching you. The island isn't safe anymore.'
Trevor's shout echoed, the sound reverberating on her skull like when a gun goes off too close to your ear. The ringing was almost too much for her to hear the next command from her son. Her adult son...who was trapped in Fae. “What...?”
'Stop it. Stop talking. Stop thinking. Stop everything.' It was a curious mix of Jack's 'hypno- voice' and the younger version of Trevor's pleading, worried voice. Liz stayed laying on the sand this time, blinking as she tried to stop...everything.
“How are you...?” She finally choked out as her fingers dug into the sand, trying to push away the pain of having someone else inside her head. For a fleeting moment she wondered if this is what Abe felt like when someone pushed a silent thought at him. It hurt, so much, but that too was fading with every new communication, just like the unsettling in her stomach. 'Where are you?' she directed a thought at Trevor without realizing it.
' I'm safe. Dad is safe. We're fine.' Trevor's voice was clear now, like the frequency of the comm that didn't exist has changed. It wasn't entirely true, but he knew the Fae didn't want him or his father dead. Yet. They were too important to kill, Jack especially. Trevor has spent his weeks in Fae observing, listening, making a note of how this past was changing every minute, every second. Each little difference that happened helped him piece the puzzle together.
In Trevor's time, The Brother of the Bad Wolf had never awoken, the tide of the Fae War hadn't shifted so suddenly. The imaginary road map Trevor had been following to urge his biologic and adopted family at the BPRD along might has well have been run though a shredder. Still, his mother took the Oath. About 3 months too late, but she still took it. That meant she was thinking of her children and her husband when she unwittingly forged a telepathic link with her fellow Knights, Nathan more than any of them. It meant she included them, all of them in a way she'd never intended to or would realize until much later. It took the Trevor who was pulled from his own time almost a day to realize why he suddenly felt so...normal again but now that he did, he was using it his advantage.
You need to step back and think, Ma. You're going about this all wrong. Trevor pushed quickly, knowing at any moment the mythical beings that aligned with the unSeelie would be there to check on him again. 'You have to stop being so stupid with this lonely hero crap and listen to Uncle Nathan.'
She opened her mouth to shout but instead pushed her anger back silently.'Don't tell me what to...think, Trevor Harkness! Don't tell me what to FEEL! I am your mother and you have no idea what I just did to keep you and your father safe tonight!' She'd collapsed on the sand then, shouting at nothing, shouting at everything. Shouting without making a single sound.
Liz was curled up in a ball on the beach, her entire body ringed in sorrowful blue flames as the sand bubbled into liquid around her. She wasn't saying a word anymore, her arms wrapped around her head as if to shut out the entire universe or failing that, the new voice in her head. Conflicting emotions flowed though her. Fear for her son, for her husband, for herself. Anger at herself, anger at the Fae, anger at the King for not warning her about all the things that would change when she took the Oath. Not that Liz actually let the Fae elder speak, nor would she have listened if he had. Not even King Belenus could have foretold the fact that an unclear mind would lead to a bond unbreakable by time and space between Liz, Jack and their children, both born and unborn.
Trevor knew, though. It was all in their past, which was Liz's present. Nathan had taught him and his twin brother to use the link well, and in turn they had taught their yet unborn baby sister to do the same. It was as simple as breathing to Trevor, as much as it was painful and unknown to Liz.
'Good, you got it. Now they can't hear you.' Trevor's assault on her mind was even less intense now, almost as if his was a fading memory instead of a projection he was pushing into her head. It was soothing, gentle, loving.
Trevor could feel her confusion, her fear and above all her anger. So much anger that was consuming her. Just like Dad... he thought to himself before he pushed another thought, no order, into his mother's thoughts. 'Ma. You can't come here, not yet. Trust me, you're not ready.'
'Why?' Liz again, without even knowing what she was doing pushed back a single word, a desperate pleading word. Isn't that WHY she took the oath, the reason she'd finally offered up herself as a pawn in the Fae's games; to save her family. Now Trevor was telling her not to. It made no sense.
'Just trust me. You need to go home right now. You need to train. Pack up your stuff, get us on the plane and go home. Bring John too, we'll need him later.' Trevor's voice was like Jack's during a mission briefing; authority, commanding, and Liz knew there was no saying no to him.
'You need the others, all of them. We can still win this thing, but you guys can't do it alone.' One of Trevor's eyes opened when he heard a sound. They were coming to check on him, right on time. They might ask him once again if they knew how to 'shut off' his father's brutal alter ego other than killing him. Trevor didn't, know of course, but that didn't stop them from trying to force it out of him very violently. He had to end the link, now, before they caught on that he could communicate with his blood family this way, and before his mother started feeling his apprehension at the next round of brutal interrogations.
He pushed one more thought into his mother's mind before he severed the telepathic link that opened when she took the Oath of the Fire Knight. 'I love you, Ma. Now go get the rest of our family and save the world.'
Then he was gone, as was the feeling her stomach had been turned inside out and her mind was under attack. It felt like waking up after an explosion, only the headache was worse, like someone had been stabbing at her brain with red hot poker. “NO! Wait!” She gasped as her eyes opened again, like she was just waking up from a nightmare.
Liz had sand stuck to her cheek. Sand, not ribbons of glass like she'd expected. Somehow in the course of it all, she'd rolled away from the pool of glass she'd created and onto a new patch of sand. Liz kept her eyes closed as she lay on the beach, the sound of the waves gradually replacing the ringing in her ears.
She wasn't crying anymore, she wasn't on fire and that awful feeling that she had to vomit was finally leaving her after weeks of being there. She was...calm. Not the forced calm she kept saved in reserve to stave off a blow up, but truly, purely calm.
She stayed on her stomach, digging her fingers into the beach, letting the little grains of sand trickle thought her fist again as she considered everything her son told her. She knew he was right, she knew the usual plan of going in guns blazing wouldn't do anything but get a shit ton of people killed. Not against this enemy. They needed help, she needed a team. An army.
Liz pushed her fingers into the sand again. Her hand was almost buried when she was forced to stop. She spread her hand out, searching for the obstacle that blocked her way deeper into the earth. When she pulled her hand out, a single perfect shell lay in her palm. “I hear you loud and clear, kid.” In spite of everything, or maybe because of it, Liz finally let herself smile.