Rose and Thorn - part 1 (PG-13)

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Rose and Thorn - part 1 (PG-13)

Post by Shadow »

Disclaimer: Moonlight is not mine and no copyright infringement is intended.

This story was originally posted in April '08. It's been rewritten slightly in order to make a somewhat better fit with the last four episodes, as it's meant to be a side trip between "The Mortal Cure" and "Fated to Pretend."
















You’ve been a vampire for most of your life, and maybe you’ve never come to terms with it, but you’ve found a balance; you’ve known joy and laughter, and the woman you love is drawn to your wit and charm as much as she is to your pain. You’ve kept the pain buried, but it’s there and it’s deep, and your soul is damaged. Now your dream’s come true and you’re human again, it’s what you’ve always wanted, and you’re out there walking in the sun. But the world has changed and the balance has tipped, and the pain isn’t buried any more; it’s rising into your dreams, into your life, and how are you ever going to move beyond it?


ROSE AND THORN
Part one



The clearing by the pond would have been beautiful on any other day, still green even in January and brilliant in the sun. But death haunted this place now. The sunlight hurt, it blazed down on Mick like fire, and Beth was looking at him with cold fury on her face. “Stay away from me,” she said, and she turned her back on him and strode out of the clearing, rigid with anger. Mick stared after her, dazed and shocked, and he was certain that he had lost her. Lost her forever. He turned and looked down at Josh’s body, then looked at his own hands, covered in the dead man’s blood. Mick’s shirt was drenched in blood, Josh’s mingled with his own, and it was clammy and cold against his burning skin. The sunlight was going to cause serious damage if he didn’t get out of it soon, but he wasn’t sure he cared. He could hear Beth weeping by the pond; her grief hurt him far more than the sunlight did, but there was nothing he could do. Even more clearly he could hear the paramedics talking as they packed their supplies and readied the body for transport. “Did you see this?” one of them said. “The guy did a cutdown and tied off the femoral artery – it could have worked, too, if the overall trauma hadn’t been so bad.” The paramedic sounded astonished, admiring, as if the work Mick had done was somehow significant. What did it matter, when Josh had died anyway? Beth will never forgive me. She’ll never understand why I wouldn’t turn him. The paramedic went on, “A necklace. I would never have thought of that, would you? Didn’t the cop say the guy was a P.I.? How the hell did he know what to do?” Mick moved to the shade of a tree and sank to the ground beneath it, closing his eyes. Beth had asked him the same thing, and the memories had nearly overwhelmed him. You learn a lot in war.

The sky was overcast, gray with snow, and among the dense dark trees the trench was a freezing morass of ice and mud. Mick had never imagined that anything could be so cold. It was the coldest winter seen in the Ardennes for over fifty years, they said, and men all along the line were falling to exposure as fast as they were to combat. Mick’s friend David lay between the soldiers who’d been recruited to hold him down, angry and tearful and probably as drunk as he was going to get. God knew how Ralph Sanderson had managed to hoard those bottles of whiskey, but it was a blessing. The last of the morphine was gone. “Damn you, Mick,” David muttered. “You said you’d send me back - you said they’d wait and watch it – you said they probably wouldn’t amputate . . .” Mick looked down at David’s frostbitten foot, prepped for surgery as well as they could manage. He couldn’t send David back, to an evacuation hospital or even to the doctors at the battalion aid station. The enemy’s sudden surge through the lines had cut them off from all help. Mick would have watched and waited himself, treating David’s foot conservatively, if it hadn’t gone gray and necrotic with wet gangrene. He remembered what it had been like with Mary, and he felt sick with fear. It was hard enough to treat a man who’d lost a foot to mortar fire – there was one such man in Mick’s makeshift ward just down the trench - but it would be another thing entirely to do the amputation himself. And whiskey or not, David was going to feel this. The way Mary had. “You don’t look so good, Mick,” Ralph Sanderson said, taking a firm grip on David’s arm. “Hell of a job for a field medic. You ever done this before?”

It was dark, pitch dark in a London blackout, and Mick had only the faint light from a shielded pocket torch that was wedged into the rubble above him. He was crammed awkwardly in the tiny space at the bottom of the vertical tunnel, alone with the trapped girl. Shouts came from above, warning him that there was no time left. “I’ve got to do it now,” he told Mary. “Are you ready?” Mick carefully tightened the tourniquet. He wasn’t sure if she’d heard him – her body was limp against the rubble, and her eyes were closed – but after a few seconds she whispered, “Ready.” Her voice was almost too faint to hear. Mick shifted the light so that it shone on Mary’s arm, and his hand shook as he picked up the blade and pressed it to her skin. She’s only twelve, was all he could think. Only a child, no older than Rosie.

And he was running through the night, running with a speed only a vampire could reach. There was a terrible part of him that loved this, the speed and the strength, and he hated himself for succumbing to its glamour. The speed, the agility, the grace – they were all part of the monster. And the monster had been in control only moments ago, when he had found himself standing outside her window. Mick veered at top speed and crashed into a wall, slamming into it as hard as he could, striking it with his fists until his hands were gashed to the bone. The pain sent him staggering to his knees, but it didn’t touch the memory, and it didn’t last. In less than a minute the wounds had healed. Desperately he got up and began to run again, pushing himself harder, picking up speed. But he couldn’t run fast enough to escape the images in his mind: the girl on the other side of the window, the rage and the hunger, the driving need to kill. To kill Rosie. He flung himself up the side of a building, reached the roof, and stood poised on the edge, looking down some thirty stories. He’d tried to do this so many times, so many ways; Coraline had said there was no way for a vampire to die but God knew she’d lied to him before. He threw himself headfirst off the roof and fell into the darkness.













Mick woke, gasping for breath, sitting up so fast that the room seemed to spin around him. He leaned forward to put his hands to his head, and the fleur-de-lis pendant fell free of his shirt, swinging on its chain in a slow echo of the spinning room. He caught it and held it, then tucked it back inside his shirt. He didn’t want to think about that last dream. But he could still feel himself falling through the darkness; he was sick and dizzy and the room seemed to lurch drunkenly beneath him. The nightmare clung to him, and it took him a minute to realize that the room was moving.

It’s not just the dream. It’s an earthquake. Mick was startled by how different it felt, now that he was human. He sat very still until the rolling movement came to a stop. Pain flared in his ribs and knee, and his body was damp with sweat. The vertigo lingered, a sensation he hadn’t felt for over fifty years. A human sensation.

The dreams were different too; they had changed when he had. They had begun during his last days as a vampire, when his efforts to save Josh had rekindled all those old memories. But dreams in a freezer were faint things, cold and slow and hard to remember. Mick’s new dreams were vivid and intense, and they felt as if they were real. They were like the nightmares he’d had after the war. Would it be too much, he wondered, to ask for a few good dreams, bursting into his mind with all the same intensity? Maybe those would come too. In time. In whatever time he had.

He would deal with the dreams, however bad they were, and he would deal with the flashbacks if they returned. It was all part of being human. The pain in his body still felt amazing, a constant reminder of how he’d changed, and he almost regretted that he was starting to heal. He rolled back his left sleeve and lifted the bandage that covered the wound on his forearm. This wound had not healed at all; it was still as raw as the moment Coraline had made the cut. Would it stay that way, as long as he stayed mortal? There was so much he didn’t know.

Mick went to the window and glanced at his watch: it was two in the morning. He looked down at the city, wondering how severe the earthquake had been. Everything looked normal enough - the city lights still glowed to the horizon, the traffic moved smoothly through the streets. Sirens wailed in the distance, but that was hardly out of the ordinary. Mick switched on the television and the computer, looking for news. Gradually reports began to appear on the television: the earthquake had been relatively mild, but a few structures had collapsed, most significantly a small apartment complex in Glendale. Would Buzzwire have a report? He turned his scrutiny to the computer, and found it. Found her. Beth was there, standing in front of the rubble, microphone in hand. He stared at her image, as mesmerized as he had been the first time he’d seen her online, and reached out to touch her face on the screen.

He hadn’t seen her since Josh’s funeral. Their brief conversation had given him hope, though things between them were still far from healed. He’d told her about the cure and its limits, and he’d told her, very briefly, about the fight in the alley. She’d been astonished to see how he’d changed, but he knew she still didn’t understand why the cure was so desperately important to him. Her anger at him had faded, replaced by bewilderment: she truly didn’t comprehend why being a vampire was such a terrible thing. And why should she understand, when there were so many things he’d never told her? “What could be the downside?” she’d asked, and he’d only told her the smallest part of it, about missing things like sunbathing and food. He’d never been able to bear the thought of telling her anything more.

The camera moved aside from Beth, panning over the wreckage behind her, while her voice summed up the damage and gave estimates of how many might be trapped within it. Rescue workers swarmed over the rubble, and a red-haired woman with a search dog moved past in the background. Mick stared at the woman with the dog, putting out a hand again. Esme? The woman’s dog was black-and-white, not shaggy brown, but –

He shook his head sharply. It was impossible. It couldn’t be Esme. The woman was so far in the background he couldn’t see her clearly; he was reacting only to the blaze of red hair.

The camera shifted back to Beth, and then the report closed. Mick sat very still for a moment. He shouldn’t go there. The woman wasn’t Esme, and Beth still needed space. If he went to Beth now he might very well end up pushing her away. He needed to wait for her to come to him. He shouldn’t go.

But five minutes later he was on the road.












The place was cordoned off already, but Mick didn’t find it difficult to get through on foot. An ambulance raced past him, its siren starting to blare, and he looked out at the remains of the apartment building. A few paramedics were clustered around a person lying on the ground, and two more ambulances stood ready. Three television vans, along with the Buzzwire van, were parked nearby. The woman with the black-and-white dog still moved through the rubble. The dog seemed distracted, but the woman was uncannily intent. Was this dog trained to bark when it found someone, the way the little brown dog in London had been?

“Mick?”

Mick turned, startled to find Beth beside him. He hadn’t caught her scent. He hadn’t even heard her. Surely even as a human, he should have heard her approach? He was more distracted than the dog.

“Beth,” he said, and stopped. He didn’t know what to say to her.

“What are you doing here?”

He shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep. I thought I’d come see what was happening. Do you know if they’ve found everyone yet?”

She shook her head. “There’s one family still missing, parents and two kids. They’re hoping the dog can find them. It found most of the others.” She hesitated. “I guess you would have been able to do that yourself. Before.”

“Yes. It’s a talent that’s hard to explain, though.”

She nodded. On camera she’d appeared as confident and poised as ever, but in person he could see how tired she was – dark circles under her eyes not quite concealed by makeup, the faintest tremor in her hands. Was it simple grief for Josh, or was she still haunted by what she believed Mick could have done? Both, perhaps. Her hands were bare; she no longer wore Josh’s ring.

An uncomfortable silence fell between them. Mick wanted to ask about the ring, but that would be guaranteed to make things even more awkward. He took a breath, trying to think of something else to say, and the dog barked.

Mick spun around to look, then staggered and nearly fell. The black-and-white dog was now small and shaggy and brown, barking excitedly. The redheaded woman waved and two ARP men began to run toward her. A flash, and the warden was standing in front of Mick. “You’re the medic, right? We need you over there.” And then Mick was looking down the vertical tunnel at the girl trapped below, and he was paralyzed with fear. “I can’t! I don’t know how. I’m just a medic; I’m not a surgeon!” And he was crammed into the tunnel and the girl was looking at him with trusting eyes. “I’m Mick,” he said, trying to give her a reassuring smile. “I’m Mary,” she whispered in return.

“Mick! Mick, what’s wrong?”

He was conscious of Beth’s voice, of her arm around him, but it seemed like the faintest of dreams. All he could see was Mary, pinned in the rubble; all he could think of was the gas leak that was sure to kill them both if he didn’t quickly do what must be done. In the back of his head he could hear a surgeon’s voice describing the proper way to make the cut for an amputation, so that there would be enough skin and muscle left to close smoothly over the bone. But he didn’t remember the details, and he’d never seen it done. Just take it off as fast as you can and see she doesn’t bleed to death; they can sort the rest out later. He’d given her morphine from his kit but there hadn’t been time for it to take full effect, and it wasn’t going to be enough. God, if only he could wait! Someone shouted down the tunnel, a warning about the gas – they’d just found someone else nearby, dead from it. Mary’s eyes had fallen shut, and she lay limp against the rubble, dazed and drugged. From the morphine, Mick prayed, and not from the gas. “I’ve got to do it now,” he said. He tried to keep his voice calm. “Are you ready?” Of course she isn’t. Neither am I. He tightened the tourniquet, and a few seconds later she whispered, “Ready.” He gazed at her face one more time. She didn’t look like Rosie, but she was exactly the same age, and he shivered. He moved the light to her arm, took the blade, and cut swiftly through skin and muscle, working his way to the bone as fast as he could. Mary was trying to be brave, and the morphine was dulling the pain, but it was still too much for her. She cried out for him to stop, and then just cried, in quiet desperate sobs. He couldn’t listen, couldn’t stop. Find and clamp the major vessels. Cut the bones. All he had were bolt cutters; the radius and ulna parted with a sickening crunch. Her blood sprayed across his face. He found the bleeder, caught it, clamped it –

Mick gasped, suddenly feeling Beth beside him. She’s real. Hold on to her. “Mick,” she said. “Mick, please, you’re scaring me.”

He looked up and saw her, the nightmare images fading. Her face was full of fear, and she had her arms around him. They were both sitting on the ground – when had he fallen? “It’s okay,” he whispered. “Just a flashback.” It was another human thing, this intense physical reaction that accompanied the visions. He was shaking all over, shivering with the shock. He tried to pull his coat tighter, but his hands wouldn’t work. Beth did it for him, watching him anxiously, one arm still firmly across his shoulders. She was so warm, so gentle. . . he couldn’t keep himself from leaning into the comfort of her embrace. But that was all right, apparently. She only held him closer.

“Are you going to be okay?” she whispered.

“Yeah. It’s just – it just takes a few minutes.”

“A flashback,” she said. “Of what?”

“The war.”

She looked at him questioningly. “Which one?”

“Second world war. I was a medic.”

“The second – my God. I should have thought, I should have known.” She was quiet for a moment. “A medic. That’s how you knew – how you knew what to do, when . . .”

Mick nodded.

Beth asked, “Is it coming back because of that? Because of what you did for Josh?”

“No. Not this time.”

He felt her flinch. Shouldn’t have said that. Too late now. But she didn’t take her arm away. It felt so good, so terribly good, to have her hold him.

“What caused it, then?” Beth asked. “Do you know?”

“The woman with the dog. There was a woman with a search dog in London, a redheaded woman, just like her. So much like her.” Mick looked up, and saw her standing at the edge of the rubble, watching the rescue workers dig. She could have been Esme’s twin.

“What happened in London?”

“We were billeted there, waiting to be deployed, and there was a bombing raid – a big one. A row of buildings got hit nearby, and we went to try and help.”

“Wait. Mick, what year was that?”

“1942.”

“But that was before . . .”

“Yes. Before I was turned.”

“You were human,” she murmured. “How old were you?”

“Twenty.”

“God, you were so young.”

“It was cold that night. Like it is now.” Mick tried to huddle deeper into his coat. “It’s so cold.”

“It isn’t really,” Beth said worriedly. “Mick, I think you’re in shock.”

“Yeah. But it’ll pass.”

“You’ve done this before?”

He nodded. “Not for a long time, though. It’s a human reaction. I’d almost forgotten how bad they were.”

“Does it help to talk about them?”

He managed a laugh. “I don’t know. I’ve never talked about them before.”

“Do you want to now?”

“Do you want to hear it?”

Beth’s arm tightened around him. “Yes,” she said.
















_
Last edited by Shadow on Mon Feb 16, 2009 8:18 am, edited 5 times in total.
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redwinter101
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Re: Rose and Thorn - part one

Post by redwinter101 »

I've never read any of your work before *headdesk*.

Need to fix that immediately.

I loved this first chapter - and I will be back for a longer comment (I should warn you, I am an epic commenter) but I just wanted to let you know that I loved it - the characterisation, the emotion, the promise of this story of Mick's past. It's beautifully done and I can't wait to have the time to read the rest.

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Re: Rose and Thorn - part one

Post by wpgrace »

Oh I remember this story!!! This is an amazing story! I am so glad you are bringing it here.

I so wish the show had given us at least one more ep of human Mick, to do just exactly what you are doing here... to explore how it is to be human again after so many years not. It couldn't just be about eating hot dogs and donuts.

And I love how you remind us, so vividly here, that his human life BEFORE wasn't just about eating hot dogs and donuts either.

This Mick is just as complex and rich on the inside as our vamp Mick.

I am in heaven re-reading this!!!! Thank you soooo much!
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Re: Rose and Thorn - part one

Post by coco »

Shadow I've never read this before and I can't think why :?
This was a stunningly good first chapter. So rich in detail and emotion.
I love this look at human Mick and how it is affecting him.
I'll try and read more from work if I can but if not, I'll get to it when I get home :D
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Re: Rose and Thorn - part one

Post by Shadow »

Red and coco, so glad you found this! Thanks so much for your comments, and I was especially pleased that you both mentioned the emotions coming across - that was one of my biggest goals with this story, to make it just as emotional as possible without (hopefully) hitting the point of melodrama.

Grace, I'm thrilled you remembered it and wanted to read it again! I'm totally with you about wishing the show had given more time for Mick to be human. I was longing for at least one more episode too. (No doubt that's a good part of why I ended up writing this!)
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Re: Rose and Thorn - part one

Post by redwinter101 »

Shadow wrote:But the world has changed and the balance has tipped, and the pain isn’t buried any more; it’s rising into your dreams, into your life, and how are you ever going to move beyond it?
This is such a brilliant premise for your story - the full effect of resurgent humanity for Mick is far more than physical - it's going to have an impact on his very soul.

I loved the way you weave just enough of Josh's death to introduce your first, incredibly evocative flashback. Brilliantly done and it flows so beautifully, taking us seamlessly from the frozen horrors of the Ardennes to the twisted rubble of London.
Shadow wrote:He’d tried to do this so many times, so many ways; Coraline had said there was no way for a vampire to die but God knew she’d lied to him before. He threw himself headfirst off the roof and fell into the darkness.
This was the only part of the story that I really struggled with. It's beautifully written but I ache at the thought of suicidal Mick. We see his strength of character, his sheer love of life, all throughout the show - it's so strong and so powerful I wonder if I can ever really see him reaching the point of actively trying to end his life. Perhaps through careless neglect or recklessness - but throwing himself off a building? I shudder for him here.

And then, poor Mary. Oy, that's gut-wrenching - for Mick - and you make us feel it too.
Shadow wrote:He was conscious of Beth’s voice, of her arm around him, but it seemed like the faintest of dreams.
I loved this whole section. In spite of Beth' fragile state, and the difficult terms that they are on here, her reaction to his obvious distress is so tender, so concerned. It's beautiful.
Shadow wrote:“Does it help to talk about them?”

He managed a laugh. “I don’t know. I’ve never talked about them before.”

“Do you want to now?”

“Do you want to hear it?”

Beth’s arm tightened around him. “Yes,” she said.
What a beautiful ending - leading us on to the next part while giving a moment of such intimacy.

Oh this is amazing - I'm so happy to find it!

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Re: Rose and Thorn - part one

Post by mitzie »

I have never read this story either. Excellent, passionate start!! Wow!!!!

Off to read the next part right now...*clap* *clap* *scream* *scream* *thud* *thud*

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Re: Rose and Thorn - part one

Post by lila »

This is fantastic! Like Red, I can't believe I've never read any of your work before! I'm going to fix that right now, dammit, because you weave an excellent story line and spot on characterizations. Also, you have a lyrical writing style, which I love.

I'd leave a longer comment, but, er, I can't wait to read the second chapter, so I'll go do that now :mrgreen: .
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Re: Rose and Thorn - part 1

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I'm so pleased to have more new readers! So glad you found this, mitzie and lila, and even happier that you are liking it! You made my day saying the characterizations were spot on, lila - that was another of my biggest goals and it is so good to hear that it worked. Thanks so much for your comments!

Red, I can't tell you how much it means to hear your reaction to the flashbacks at the beginning. I spent an insane amount of time on those first four paragraphs, rewriting over and over because I wanted to achieve a certain effect - which is exactly what you mentioned in your comment..... oh, that was good to hear.

I gave Mick a suicidal period in this story because of that last look we had of him in '52, when he asks Coraline to kill him and says he wants to die. I didn't think that frame of mind would pass quickly or easily, and it seemed that it would take him a while to find the ways to cope with his vampire existence - before he found the balance in his life that would let him know joy again. (Of course those thirty missing years will always remain a mystery, sigh.)

Anyway I'm glad you pushed through that part and kept going! And very pleased that you liked the ending. I'm quite blown away by your epic comment; it is absolutely fascinating to find out so much about your thoughts and insights on the story. Thank you!
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Re: Rose and Thorn - part 1

Post by redwinter101 »

Shadow - I did warn you I tend to ramble on when I read a story that inspires me!

Will get to the rest of the story when I have the time to savour every moment as I am sure it is equally wonderful.

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Re: Rose and Thorn - part 1

Post by francis »

I think I must have read it somewhere else, this is familiar.
Poor Mick is having nightmares and flashbacks after the failed rescue of Josh. The show never much explored his feelings after LLF, and went on with him frolicking at being human. I’m glad you deal with that theme. I love how you write the scene after Josh’s death in the park.
And then again a voice from the past: Esme. Or is it?
But I love that Beth is ready to help him through this. Besides her natural curiosity, she is really concerned for him. Like this very much.
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Re: Rose and Thorn - part 1

Post by Fleur de Lisa »

I remember this well, but am enjoying immersing myself in it once again.

I love the melding of past and present. The flashbacks are superb and everything has such a nice flow to it.
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Re: Rose and Thorn - part 1

Post by Shadow »

It's marvelous to have repeat readers - thanks ever so much for coming back to the story!

And many, many thanks for mentioning the flashbacks. I'm particularly glad to hear that you liked that part.

Hope you enjoy the rest!
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Re: Rose and Thorn - part 1 (PG-13)

Post by starbucksjunkie »

I, too, read this on a board long ago and far, far away. And it's just as riveting now as it was then.

The details, the smooth transitions from past to present and back again are lovely. And you Mick--so raw, like a wounded animal. He never counted on this part of being human, and you have captured it with such power.

Brava! Just beautiful. And I will be back when I can savor it with time and my full attention.
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Re: Rose and Thorn - part 1 (PG-13)

Post by Shadow »

And I remember well a certain reader whose encouragement and comments helped me get this story posted in the first place .....

So glad you're revisiting, Nikki.
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