DISCLAIMER: These characters and situations do not belong to me in any way shape or form. I have borrowed them as part of my sanity maintenance.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Written for merfilly's Memorial Day challenge to incorporate Huntress into a fic prompted by the following lyrics from Snow Patrol's 'The Finish Line'
I feel like I am watching everything from space
And in a minute I hear my name and I wake
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
The Finish Line
By Debbie
It was an ordinary Monday, the last in May, when the call came through, 'need your help at a quiet uprising in sleepy Gauntan'. Of course, like all uprisings there was nothing quiet about it. The voice had sent transport and, within hours, she joined Black Canary in the thick of the action. One lucky shot grazed her left ear and, for some reason, knocked out her contact with the voice.
She looked around, momentarily lost; she'd never realized just how much security she gained from the voice. Soon, once again acting of her own volition, she saw in the distance some henchman driving a group of children deep into the undergrowth. Now, unable to hear the voice screaming in her ear to avoid the trap at all cost, all she could see was a threat to children, and she flew, oblivious to the shots whistling around her slender frame.
Reaching the edge of the woods, she stopped for an instant, intent on the noise to her left. Just as she caught the tell tale click of a mine underfoot, her world faded to black.
Moments later, a bright light shone around, the glare on the white hurt her eyes, and her head thrummed with the total lack of sound.
Pure silence surrounded her.
She was scared.
Where was the voice bringing her safety?
Where?
She listened.
Black noise.
Intense pain throbbed through her, every joint screaming to be left alone, her spine curling in an attempt to get away from the agony; she was finished. And, as her mind registered that fact, the pull increased in intensity, drawing her towards the source of the blinding light.
She wanted to resist, was trying to resist, but the magnetism between the light and the pain was just too strong.
Where was the voice bringing her safety?
Concentrating with all her senses, she heard it, quiet, strong, deep, like a shadow in the dark.
I tried very hard to trust you. There's always a price for trying to help; this is yours.
No! No! Her body rocketed towards the tunnel of brightness.
Again, she dug deep, listening; again, she heard it, this time a softer, gentler voice, calling her home.
You can't beat these guys; they took me, and I can take you. You know you like me.
No! No! The chasm came nearer still.
And still her bones ached as her body cried out for relief. Silence reigned, crushing all life force from within outwards. Clamping down on the scream that threatened to escape, she caught it, faint as a whisper, soft as a caress, firm as iron, the sound that tethered her in time and space.
Don't go. . I need your help; it's extremely frustrating trying to read you. I need you.
Gradually, slowly, the brightness receded, the silence began to fill, the glare on the white turned grey, and the voice became stronger, became real, became the voice, became her.
She tried to smile. She tried to wake.
"Huntress."
The voice continued to soothe and cajole, but still the pain fought to steal her away, her mind counter-resisting the white light and its pull so strong. But now, she could feel solidity. A hand squeezed her own in quiet strength; its warmth bringing blood back to the frozen tips of her being.
"Helena."
She took a deep breath, taking in all that she could want and opened her eyes because there was nothing more left to do; the voice needed her and she needed the voice.
She opened her eyes and there she was.
The End