November, 2266
[thoughts]
*emphasis*
(Almost 5 years after this timeline diverged from Canon version.)
Angel sat in a chair, pulled up next to her mother's bedside. Her dad was sitting on the other side of the bed, holding Lyta's thin hands in his own powerful ones. He didn't know if this would even work. He didn't know why he'd even agreed to let his baby try this . . . but he knew (or at least he hoped) it wouldn't hurt either of them. But it was taking so long, his beloved daughter had never tried to keep up a scan for more than a few minutes, 10 at most, and this was nearly 45 minutes. But he didn't want to stop her, didn't want to give up hope, not after so long. It was a chance.
Angel's hands were on Lyta's forehead, and she was concentrating with all the scarce bit of training she had. She was trying to scan her mother . . . abilities her teachers didn't quite understand were being used, if awkwardly. Suddenly Angel's eyes went from being closed to being open, and Zack's heart clenched inside him. Oil black, like the story Tess would tell on a very few, usually drunk and reflective, occasions. Angel did seem to have inherited something horrible from her mother . . . But she closed her eyes again, blinking, and they were back to a normal brown.
She whimpered and began to cry. Zack was instantly on his feet, reaching over to hold her, shushing her sobs, telling her it was ok, she was safe.
Angel pushed him away, but quickly grabbed him into a tight hug again. "No, daddy, no, mommy's in there! There IS someone in there, I know! There's a block, I called out, I don't think she heard me, but she's in there! I have a mommy, daddy, I have a mommy. She's there. She's afraid. All that's left outside is fear, daddy. I don't know if she heard me. If she can hear me maybe she'll come out. I think I'm strong enough to help her get out, to help her get past the fear! But I don't know if I can make her hear me. Those mean people hurt her, daddy, those shadow-people. I could see things that were left outside. They were mean to her, and she's afraid. I don't think she knows they're gone. When you're inside, you don't know how much time has gone by, my teachers say. What if she still thinks they're out there? Is that why she can't come out?" She sounded afraid.
Zack, a little surprised, admitted that he didn't know.
Angel (appearing to change topics the way that children do) said, "I'm hungry. I wanna go back to unka mike's house." Her voice was subdued.
Zack agreed. "Ok, but I want to come back tomorrow, would you mind? Do you want to try to find mommy again . . . or not. It's up to you," he said.
Angel had hopped off her chair to walk out the door, but just before the threshold she turned around to look back at the figure lying in the bed. She had never seen the person move, talk, or do anything at all but lay there and breathe a little bit. Angel walked back for a moment, head at a faint tilt, thinking. [My mommy was different than the others mommies were. Their mommies could run and play and buy cookies for them. My mommy had to sleep because she was sick and hadn't gotten better. She wasn't . . . there . . . here? to be with daddy and me. But today it wasn't like before . . . there's *someone* there. But how can I tell her it's safe to come out now?] Inflating her torso with stubbornness, she reached out and placed both her hands on the side of Lyta's head and whispered out loud, "Come out, mommy, wake up!" while she broadcast it, as loud and as focused as she could, to Lyta.
Nothing happened.
Zack led a very sad 4-year old back to Michael's house for lunch. He'd made plans for them to go see a new exhibit at the local planetarium that afternoon, which had been a favorite place of Angel's to visit, but she was unwilling to leave. She just sat on a couch and cried all afternoon, huddled up next to her father. Nothing Zack tried could cheer her up, and when Mike and Lise got back from work, they couldn't do anything to cheer the hysterical girl either. She refused to sleep in her own bed that night, scared to bits from the faint traces she'd seen in Lyta's mind. Zack stayed up, sitting with her, wishing he hadn't let Angel try . . . she would have probably obeyed him. She was such a good child. He just kept telling her that he loved her.
He didn't realise he had fallen asleep until one of the servants was shaking him awake. "I'm sorry to disturb you so early, sir, but sir, please, the hospital is on the link. They say it's about your wife, sir-"
Zack was already halfway to the communit before the nervous and tired servant could even straighten up again. Angel was still sleeping in his arms, he didn't have the time or desire in his haste to put her down, he was so terrified. [The worst might have happened to Lyta, her hold on life had been so shaky for so long - ]
"Mr. Allan, there you are - you don't look hap- oh good grief what did that idiot butler tell you?!" The woman on the screen said. "Do - not - panic! This is good news!"
Zack suddenly had to sit down, his eyes still glued to the screen. Angel didn't so much as stir in his arms.
"You left the instructions to be notified ASAP, regardless of time, if your wife Lyta should ever show any signs of recovery. Sir, a few minutes ago a nurse doing a routine check saw her body shaking. It was slight, but the first sign we've had from her in - oh, since she was brought in on Mrs. Garibaldi's orders, before your girl there was even born. We brought in a neural scanner. The movement was involuntary, but sir, there are a few, scattered brainwaves. She might recover consciousness in a few more days - or it might be weeks. But there is now a chance that she will recover, where there was none before. Slim, but there. There is no residual physical damage, as you know, which might be a factor in her favor - no pain to fight through. We are continuing to monitor her, and we can let you know in a few hours whether or not the activity will probably continue, fade away, or progress to consciousness."
Zack, for the second time in his adult life, started to shed tears. "She might wake up. . ."
"We don't know how much of her mind and personality will be intact, if at all, but this is the first good news to come along in a very long time. For the past few minutes, she has been sleeping normally. Very deeply, but normally. We will call you back in about an hour, Mr. Allan." The call ended.
Zack hugged Angel to him tightly, the pressure of which woke her up and she started to squirm, then stopped to demand to know what's wrong. He couldn't answer, so she broke the strongest rule there was for telepaths. She scanned him.
"Mommy?" She wondered softly, looking at the now-blank screen. [Daddy was crying! Daddy never cried! Babies cried, old girls at ceremonies cried, but daddy didn't cry! But he wasn't mad or upset . . . he was happy?] "Why are you crying daddy? I am going to go help mommy wake up all the way! And you have to put clothes on, too, you can't go in PJ's." She wriggled out of his arms and ran down the hall to her room to change out of her nightgown.
~~~~
(Two days later . . . )
Zack sat on the edge of Lyta's bed, holding her hands as faint trembles shook her frail body. Nerves that had started to fire again were triggering muscle spasms. He was as nervous as hell, and kept moving his eyes between Lyta's face and the jumping readings on the monitors she'd been hooked up to. He wanted to pick her up to hold her but was worried she might be hurt by the contact, he didn't want to interfere with the IV tube or monitoring lines.
Angel had been led back to sit with Garibaldi in the outer room. They knew Lyta was in for a hell of a shock, and they had no idea if she was still emotionally stable, or even if she was mentally intact. The adults didn't want to risk hurting Angel in any way.
Angel could tell, even through the hospital's wall, that her mother was in the final stages of waking up, full of fits and tremors and almost as many mental stumbles backwards as forwards. [Don't be scared, mommy,] Angel thought to herself, [I can't be scared either. I'm not afraid. Yes I am! What if she doesn't like me!?] She couldn't hear what Daddy was saying, even when she peeked part of her face around the corner . . . But she could see.
Zack was whispering to Lyta, soft and reassuring but nervous. "Don't worry, you're safe, Lyta. Don't panic, you're safe, ok? Please lie still, you're still too weak to move yet, even with the physio - please, lie still, don't hurt yourself."
Lyta's facial muscles had atrophied, she couldn't form expressions but she was trying to, unaware of the *exact* change but extremely confused, because of her vague awareness that there *had* been a change. She didn't realise - or was too confused and weak to care - that she was broadcasting emotions. Intense, knife-edged yet somehow fuzzily blurred emotions. Fear, but mostly she was totally bewildered as to what was going on. Shaking his head to try to clear it, Zack began to pick up distorted images of shadow-people and screams, Lyta - she was screaming, she was so very afraid - but she could not make herself be heard, she had no voice - the last thing she remembered was trying to hide in some way, in any way, oh god how could she hide? Somehow . . . then . . . she was here? Where IS here?
"Don't try to talk, Lyta, you can't yet - you have to rebuild your vocal cords, they - well - we couldn't keep everything moving, your face probably feels numb, but we kept the skeleton and most of the muscles active, so it won't be as hard to start walking again. You've been unconscious for so long - I'm here to help, Lyta. I called in for a sabbatical yesterday when we knew you would wake up for sure, as long as it takes, I'm here to help. I've had to wait so long for you. But don't worry, love, I - oh god, how do I tell you this? I - I had an Angel to keep you near to my heart. Really. I - we - I . . ." Zack's voice failed him.
He kept her hands held inside one of his, but he moved his other hand to stoke her hair. It had been carefully washed and combed out everyday, but it hadn't been cut. It now reached well past her waist. Through images sent to him, jumping flickering images that Lyta didn't know she was broadcasting, Zack could see what she saw. Her vision was blurry from disuse, but she could still see there was a change. She tried to focus on him. Her eyes asked what her throat could not. How long?
"Oh, god, Lyta, I have no idea how to tell you this. I - when we . . . did you know, or suspect, by the time the attack came that . . . that your period was late?"
Her confusion grew briefly before being overtaken by fear.
"I had an Angel . . . that's - that's what I named her . . . I didn't give her a middle name, in case you wanted to pick it, we didn't know how long - if ever - until you woke up, but she has my last name. You - don't get up yet, you need to rebuild your muscles - lay still, easy, easy, you're not in any kind of trouble, ok? Everything's ok. You - we - are safe. Calm down, please." He turned towards the door and waved two fingers in a 'come' motion. "You - you were . . . We didn't find out until a few months afterwards, but as soon as we found out, we were going to move you someplace safer than where you were anyway, but we shoved up the time to the next day. I had to keep you safe, my love. Here, let me help you sit up a little, go slowly." He helped her sit up so she could see the room, and was rewarded with an overwhelming wash of dizziness. Zack shook it off faster than Lyta did, still observing the world through a confusing double set of senses. Lyta was still dizzy from the motion, but managed to lightly grasp onto his clarity in an attempt to focus her own mind. And, when her vision cleared a little more, she saw Angel standing a few feet away, beside Zack.
Confusion. Recognition. Disbelief.
Hope.
She was stunned, and managed to move her neck slightly to look at Zack's face.
"This is our daughter. She became an active teep just last month - we think that's maybe how you woke up - we've been trying to wake up ever since they found you, collapsed, right after the battle. She was born the next august. I got to be the first to hold her. I caught her coming out - I've been totally in love with her since that moment, heck, before then. And now, she - she's . . . Angel turned 4 earth-years almost 3 months ago. And she is her name, she's good, she's smart, and can read a bit already and spell and add small numbers - and yes, you were pregnant. Don't cry, Lyta, she's my reason for living. Her and you."
Lyta was nearly blinded from all the tears. [She's so beautiful!]
Angel heard her, smiled and hesitantly clambered up onto the bed beside Lyta. [Hello mommy], she sent gently.
Lyta managed to shift her weak arms to touch Angel.
[Hello,] she was able to send weakly in return.
********