Mirror

"Mirror"
by levelbluec/PJ

Part One

There was a blinding flash of light off in the distance. So bright, in fact, that it woke Marguerite from a sound sleep. She wanted desperately to stay where she was. Roxton had, once again, moved until he was lying right next to her. His dark head was nestled in the crook of her neck and the touch of his breath on her skin was making the hairs on her arm stand up. He shifted, pulling her against him, protective of her even in his sleep. She wanted nothing more that to ignore the light that now seemed to be pulsing just beyond the treeline and curl closer to Roxton.

She sighed and finally began to sit up. Roxton woke with a start, "What?"

It was a fairly redundant question considering the area around them had been lit up like a lightbulb, "What on earth is that?"

"It started a few minutes ago." Marguerite was already extracting herself from the circle of his arms. Roxton tightened his grip.

"What's your hurry?"

Marguerite turned in his arms and grinned at the devilish look on his face, "Other than the fact that its the middle of the night and it looks like daytime? Not to mention the fact that Challenger and Veronica have most likely seen that light already and are headed in this direction?"

Roxton Sighed heavily and released her, "You do have a point."

She finally sat up and kissed his cheek gently, "Yes, unfortunately I do."

He smiled, pleased by this open affection she was displaying. It was not like her, but then again, the last two days had been special for them both. He got up and pulled her to her feet.

They packed quickly. The didn't have much with them, considering that they were only about ten minutes from the treehouse. They had simply been reluctant to return to the others and officially bring to an end the first two days they had ever managed to spend alone together without something catastrophic happening.

Marguerite looked at the light. Well, the had almost managed a full 48 hours before the inturreption that was apparently a given should they spend any time alone together. It almost felt like the Plateau was pitted against them.

"Ready?"

Marguerite turned and found Roxton just finishing putting out their fire, "As I'll ever be."

"Do you think we should wait for the others?"

Marguerite paused. She wanted to spend more time alone with him, but the Plateau had made it abundently clear time and time again that there was saftey in numbers, "We probably should."

He sighed, "I thought so too. Not my first choice, but necessary I think."

Part Two

The light had grown steadily dimmer even as they spoke. Roxton looked up toward the trees, "We may have to go without them. We'll never find it if it goes out."

Marguerite looked past him and sighed, "It's too dark now. Perhaps we should just wait until morning."

"Marguerite ..."

"John, why is it necessary for us to investigate every strange phenomena that occurs on this Plateau?"

Roxton shrugged and started off through the jungle toward the dimming light, "Someone has to. If not us, who?"

Marguerite followed with obvious reluctance, "Anyone else, preferably." She mumbled under her breath, but followed him nevertheless. He didn't appear that he had heard her at all. They walked for perhaps ten minutes before the light went out completely. Marguerite ran into Roxton who had come to a stop on the path she hoped they were still on.

"Please John, I can't see. Let's go back."

As he spoke, his voice was so close his breath brushed across her face. Marguerite remembered, just for a moment, why it was she followed him everywhere. As she shook this unsettling thought off and she felt him reach over her and begin digging into the pack she was wearing on her back. Finally he cursed and pulled it off completely, "Hang on, let me get the torches out."

He dropped the pack on the ground and sighed. He looked around himself, the darkness was absolute, complete, he was effectively blind. Part of him wanted nothing more than to panic, drop to his knees and search for those torches. Part of him, the logical part, knew that was a dangerous thing to do. Beside him, Marguerite fidgeted.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Hang on."

As it turned out, the torches were not necessary. A voice came through the darkness, "You piece of crap ..." There was a thudding noise, a curse and finally light illuminated Roxton, Marguerite and a good portion of the area in which they were standing.

Roxton held a hand up, trying to see past the perimeter of the light, but it was useless. He moved Marguerite behind him, "What do you want?"

There was a sharp intake of air, and a crunching noise. The light was removed from their eyes, "Sorry folks. I didn't see you there. Bloody dark here."

Both Marguerite and Roxton were momentairly blinded as spots rained in and out of their field of vision. As their eyes slowly readjusted to the darkness, they could make out one figure. A woman, about Marguerite's height, wearing jeans and tennis shoes. They had both seen clothing like this before, and it did not bode well for what was coming.

Fortunately, she was apparently very friendly because she directed the light at the ground and walked toward them, "Hi." As she finally came into view, she came to a grinding halt. The smile left her face as she stared at them, dumbfounded. It was farily easy to see why now that they could see her more clearly. She was a carbon copy of Marguerite. Her hair was black, and although cut short, it was absolutely the same color. Her features were fine, but strong, and the eyes ...they eyes that now looked out at them from her face were the identical shade of blue. Like a stormy sky, the soul, the wit, the intelligence, all shown out of those eyes. It was like looking into a mirror.

Roxton moved a little closer, but did not take her hand, "Who are you?"

The woman dropped her hand to her side, "Now that is an interesting question."

She sidestepped Roxton and moved toward Marguerite. It was an action that seemed strangely familiar somehow, as if Marguerite had seen it many times before.

Roxton grasped her shoulder and she whirled around, turning his wrist in her fingers as she came. She pressed down on his wrist and Roxton felt his entire body go numb. As if he were suddenly paralyzed. Her stormy eyes flickered with the same kind of indignant rage he often saw in Marguerite's. The sound that came from her throat was almost feral, "I suggest you never do that again."

Part Three

Roxton couldn't move. Literally. And this one thought scared him more than anything else he could begin to imagine at that moment. She was holding his wrist in one hand, and he was paralyzed. He couldn't save Marguerite, he couldn't save himself ...he couldn't do anything.

The woman turned those storm blue eyes on him and shook her head. She then did something that went against every impression he had of her; she smiled, and released him.

"I have no desire to harm you. I need to speak with Professor C."

It took seeral moments for the feeling to return to Roxton's extremities, "How did you do that? Who's Professor C?"

She paused ...almost as if she were searching for an answer to a question she either couldn't answer honestly, or wouldn't, "Challenger. George ...he's here with you, yes?"

Roxton didn't budge, "I asked you something else, too."

She sighed, "Nothing get's past you, does it?" She sidestepped Roxton and moved toward Marguerite. It was an action that seemed strangely familiar somehow, as if he had seen it hundreds of times before. She laughed, "Well, you know, except me."

Marguerite couldn't help but smile. The look Roxton shot at her, however, downgraded it to a slight grin,"We're not going anywhere until you explain yourself."

The woman finally met Marguerite's eyes and smiled again, "I see it in your eyes. You already know who I am."

Marguerite opened her mouth to speak when Challenger and Veronica came bursting into the clearing.

Challenger looked first at Roxton, "We saw a very bright light ..." His gaze swept across the rest of the group and his eyes fell on the stranger, who somehow was not a stranger, standing among them, "Good Lord ..."

She didn't waste any time, "Professor, thank heavens. I really must speak to you. Please. It's very important." She spoke with such familiarity that he was taken aback. Did she know him? He glanced quickly at Marguerite and Roxton. Well, yes she probably did know him considering who her mother was.

Part Four

Challenger didn't even take a moment to consider the outcome of wandering alone in the jungle with a perfect stranger, "Fine." Time travel was not unheard of and it was quite obvious, at least to him, that she was not nearly the stranger they seemed to think she was.

At his words, the woman's body seemed to deflate in relief. As if she had been storing up tension for months, and suddenly, with that one word, Challenger had relieved all of it for her. She glanced nervously at Roxton and Marguerite, "Alone? Please?"

It was not an order, but more a plea. It radiated out of her eyes, almost a tangible thing in the air. Something had frightened her. Challenger would have to guess that running into her mother was not exactly what she had planned.

Veronica, Marguerite and Roxton all looked dubious at this request. Challenger smiled. His friends were concerned for him. In that space, in barely a second, George Challenger realized how priceless that was. It had been a very long time since he had any kind of friends, and now, here he stood, with three people who would willingly lay down their lives for him. He understood now how much that had come to mean to him and smiled.

"Let's walk back towards the treehouse." The others fidgeted. "Perhaps Veronica…" He nodded toward Veronica, but the woman did not flinch. Her eyes snapped from his face to the person in question immediately after he said her name. This was interesting, for she knew not only himself and Marguerite, she apparently knew them all.

She glanced at Veronica, hoping, somehow, that just this one time, she would relent and stay here with the others. The look on her face, however, made it quite clear that she had no intention at all of letting Challenger walk off into the jungle alone.

"Fine." Her voice held the same sort of lilting finality that Challenger's did. It was eerie in its similarity and everyone, save George, looked at her in question. Who was she, where had she come from and more importantly, what did she want?

She turned back to Roxton and slapped a large, black flashlight into his hand, "Here, You'll need this."

He took it and examined it closely, "What is it?"

The woman sighed in exasperation, "It's a flashlight da ….uhm …you, yeah, you do have electricity don't you?"

Roxton looked affronted, "Of course we do."

She grinned, "Good, consider this a bigger, brighter, better built, longer lasting version of whatever it is you have now," her eyes moves to Challenger, "Can we go?"

Challenger was actually anxious to get away from Roxton and Marguerite. He motioned for her to follow. Roxton's voice rang out as Challenger, Veronica and the stranger moved away. For some reason he couldn't place, he was wary of her, as he had never been before. Something about her was turning his stomach to ice. He glanced at Marguerite. Their physical similarity was overwhelming and once again his heart turned to stone. Who was she? "Do you think that's a good idea George?"

"I have Veronica with me John. Besides, you and Marguerite need to pick up your things before you join us. You won't be far behind."

Roxton nodded reluctantly as the other three walked off into the jungle. He could track them by the light of their torches if he had to. His mind returned to Marguerite and the two days they had just spent together. Why did things like this always seem to happen right when they were beginning to overcome all her fears and phobias about intimacy? In many ways, John hated the Plateau, but then …had it not been for the Plateau he would never have met Marguerite at all, and to him, that was unacceptable.

The others had walked a good distance before the woman spoke again, "What are the chances that they will try to follow us and listen to this conversation?"

Challenger glanced behind him, "I daresay they have enough to discuss without adding eavesdropping to the equation."

She nodded, "You're right about that."

"Who are you?" Veronica made her presence known once again just incase this stranger decided to do something that might put George's life in danger.

The woman appeared confused by the question. She glanced at Challenger, but finally she shook her head, "My apologies, really. Where are my manners? I am so used to being around you that I forget you don't know me yet. I'm Ashlynn." She paused, and finally continued, "Lady Ashlynn Margaret Roxton, to be precise."

Part Five

Veronica's jaw literally dropped, but Challenger appeared unfazed by this revelation.

"Most people call me Ash."

Challenger smiled, "A pleasure Ash. I take it you know myself and Veronica."

Ash laughed, "Are you kidding me? I grew up in your lab, Professor C. I'm a scientist. In fact, you taught me most of what I know. Including how to get here, I might add."

Veronica stopped walking, "How do we know your telling us the truth?"

Ash stopped beside her, "Take a really good look at me Aunt Veronica."

Veronica wasn't at all certain how to respond to that, "Aunt?"

They had reached the outer perimeter of the treehouse and Challenger was holding open the gate. Ash smiled at Veronica as she walked through it, "Been calling you that all my life." She looked up at Challenger as they moved toward the elevator, "Why don't they see it?"

As they reached the top floor of the treehouse, Challenger turned to look at Ash, "I think, in many ways, the brain is incapable of processing something like this so it simply blocks it out."

Ash nodded, "That's a good thing, I guess."

"Why are you here, Ash?"

Ash sighed with relief, "I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to ask me. Truth is, you told me to come."

This actually took George by surprise for the first time that evening, "What?"

"When I was old enough to understand, you told me that I had to do this …that I would be the only one who could manipulate the machine."

Challenger rubbed his chin, "A self fulfilling prophecy."

"Yes." Ash nodded.

"What are you supposed to do?"

Ash ran a hand through her hair, "Yeah well, that's kind of complicated." Ash glanced at her watch, "In about three hours, my parents are going to have a huge fight …about me. Apparently, Mom gets so angry that she storm out and wanders off into the jungle."

Challenger interrupted, "And you have to stop that argument from happening?"

"Not exactly." Ash shook her head. George could see her mind working, trying to put together the pieces of a puzzle he had obviously not completed for her, "See, here's where the whole "complicated" thing comes in. You told me that they must have that argument, it's extremely important, however, my mother cannot walk off into the jungle. From what you told me, she's never seen again."

Both Challenger and Veronica looked stunned, "Is she killed?"

"That's the thing. We don't actually know. She simply disappears. Until you tell me about it and I come here and stop it. There is a really, really long lecture that goes with this about circular physics and alternate realities, but I'll spare you."

Veronica was beginning to warm up to her, "We'd appreciate that."

Ash grinned, "Well, he didn't spare me …technically I should return the favor."

Veronica laughed, "Boring?"

"You have no idea."

Both Ash and Veronica began to laugh. Challenger did not look at all amused by this exchange, "I'm glad you're both bonding. Can we return to the matter at hand? You certainly look like your mother."

"I know. That's why you chose me instead of …" Ash paused. Should she even go into this? She had always been instructed on what exactly she could and could not say. The fact that she had brothers had never really come up.

Challenger, however, nodded and Ash quickly understood why he didn't mention it before. He already knew. "You have siblings, I take it? Male?"

Ash nodded, "Two."

"And they both look like John, don't they?"

Ash smirked, "The spitting image. And I thought you chose me because I was the intelligent one …seriously, I don't think Ed or Rich could find the right end of a toothpick."

Challenger laughed, "And you'd be the youngest, I take it?"

"Very perceptive."

They heard the elevator coming up and Challenger grasped Ash by the arm, "Just remember, they are Marguerite and John …not mom and dad, Marguerite's last name is Krux, not Roxton."

"Wow." Ash looked impressed.

"What?" Veronica was nervously looking at the elevator. Okay, granted she actually believed all this, and wasn't quite sure what exactly was happening, however, now things were likely to get very sticky.

"He said the exact same thing to me right before I left."

Veronica almost laughed again, but Challenger interrupted, "Good. Keep it in mind. Veronica, if you will kindly not mention this?"

Veronica shrugged, "George, I don't even understand what this is."

Marguerite and Roxton walked into the room moments later and all conversation came to an abrupt stop. He didn't even say anything about it. He looked absolutely furious. His eyes flickered over to Ash, and that did not help his mood at all. He moved out of the room without saying a word to anyone.

Ash leaned closer to Challenger, "Guess that fight already started."

Both Challenger and Veronica had to suppress laughter. Marguerite looked curiously from one to the other, and finally her eyes fell on Ash. She wasn't sure what to say. Should she be angry that this woman had more effectively than anything else on this Plateau created a rift between her and John, or should she know why exactly it was that the woman was here. She finally decided that she could not make that decision on her own, and ultimately walked away without saying anything at all.

Part Six

Challenger watched them both go without a word. If only they knew they had three children in their future, but he knew he could not say anything. Any changes he made, excepting the one he had made already, would create a different history for Ash and her brothers.

Ash had been sent there to make certain she and her brothers came into the world. Once that goal was accomplished, it was imperative she be returned to her own time, any changes could create a paradox and there was no way to know the outcome. Life on the Plateau must go on as it was intended to.

Challenger looked at Ash and shrugged, "We must leave them alone. I don't know that there is anything we can do at any rate."

"I know." Ash sighed, "I just hate to see them hurting. I want to help."

Challenger walked across the room and placed a hand on her shoulder, "You are helping. You're here. Come down to my lab."

This one sentence was enough to make Ash's entire face light up with excitement and Challenger couldn't help but feeling endeared to her. He wondered how a child of Roxton and Marguerite's ended up becoming a scientist? Well, he would know eventually, wouldn't he? Together, they walked down the stairs.

Roxton stood out on the balcony, staring aimlessly at the sky. He was angry, more than that, he was hurting …more emotions, in fact, than he could recall having ever had all at once. Marguerite may be able to stand in front of that girl …woman …girl, well, whatever, and not notice, but he certainly had. He didn't believe for a moment that Marguerite couldn't see the resemblance. They were practically twins.

She was obviously someone in Marguerite's family, if not her own child. What was bothering him the most was the fact that she wasn't also his child. She should be …she should be his daughter, but there was nothing of him in that woman. She was all Marguerite, and he had to wonder who the father was. Who had taken his place? What had happened? Had they returned to London and realized they couldn't make it work there?

He didn't believe that either. He wanted to, more than anything, but he didn't. Somewhere in his heart he knew. Deep down, in his very soul, he knew …knew that no matter their differences, no matter what secrets they still needed to share with one another, they would be able to make it work. If she would just give them a chance.

Quite obviously, she had not agreed. It ate at something inside him. To even consider the possibility that she had a child with another man …he didn't want to deal with this right now, but it was beginning to seem as if he had little choice. For better or worse, that woman was here, with them, whatever her reason might be.

Marguerite found him standing in the same place several minutes later. His face still turned to the sky, unwilling, or unable to look at her. He stiffened when she approached, "John, please …"

He spun around, his emotions in turmoil and he burst. Every feeling, every emotion, everything he was seeing in his mind came rushing forth in a tide of anger and insecurity he was unable to control. "What? Don't be angry? Don't look at that woman and know that something happened to us? What the hell happened, Marguerite? Did you always plan to get rid of me if we ever got out of here? Huh? Answer me, damnit! Am I just …convenient right now? Is that it?"

Marguerite was very rapidly reaching the very last nerve she had left, "We don't know anything about that woman."

Roxton scoffed. He knew he was acting childish, he knew it, and yet he was unable to prevent it from happening, "Other than the fact that you look just like her?"

"Yes, there is a resemblance, but I don't think …"

He cut her off, "Obviously."

Marguerite stopped cold, "What is that supposed to mean?"

"You didn't think, did you?" He was beginning to lose a grip on his anger, the insecurity that she always seemed to bring up inside him continued to eat away at his heart until there was nothing left but a void, "You didn't think we could make it together." He was not quite yelling …almost, but not quite.

"You're being ridiculous!"

In his mind, the response to that accusation was `of course, you're right, I am being quite the horses ass.' What came out of his mouth was completely different, "You didn't give us a chance at all, did you?" Now …now he was shouting.

Fortunately, Marguerite's last nerve snapped like a rubber band thahas been pulled much to far, "You are talking nonsense. If she is my relation, or daughter, or part of my family, how do you know she's not related to you as well?"

His voice filled the entire treehouse, "She would have SAID SO, Marguerite."

Marguerite reached the edge of what her emotions could control, "She didn't say it to me either, John."

Roxton knew that, technically, this was true, but a tightness had started building in his chest, it pulled at his heart. It was jealousy …jealousy for a man he didn't even know existed, jealousy toward any and all of the men she had ever been with in the past or might, God forbid, be with in the future, but as they were not here, he struck out instead, at her, "She implied as much. Why wouldn't she say the same to me? Why?"

"I DON'T KNOW, DAMNIT! I don't know what happens in the future, but you know what?"

They were both breathing heavily, their eyes sparking back and forth at one another. It was both stupid and a testament to the very love he was insinuating she didn't feel, "What?"

"I do know what's going to happen right here, right now."

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

Marguerite turned and stormed toward the elevator, "I'm leaving." And with that, she lowered the elevator and walked away into the darkness. No gun, no light source, nothing to protect herself, and yet her pride drove her further into the jungle, away from her friends, her family, and the man she loved with every fiber of her being.

Part Seven

John knew he should go after her. In his mind, he knew it, in his heart he wanted to, but the same kind of pride and stubbornness that made him who he was, also made him pigheaded. He simply couldn't bring himself to move from the spot where he was standing.

Ash arrived about half a second later. She looked at John, standing alone and knew that something had just gone horribly wrong. They were not supposed to have that argument for another two hours. What was going on?

"Lord Roxton?"

He turned, and as his eyes landed on Ash, they become cold … distant, "What?"

"Where is Marguerite?"

"You mean your mother, don't you?

Ash sighed, but after a slight pause, she nodded, "Yes. That is what I mean."

Roxton took a sharp breath. He had known, of course, but somehow having Ash verify it made it much more real to him, "She's gone."

Ash's face turned white, "WHAT? Where?"

Roxton looked out into the darkness, "Not far. She didn't take a torch with her."

This was not, apparently, comforting to Ash, who bolted toward the elevator, "We have to stop her!!" The panic in her voice was enough to get Roxton's attention.

"Calm down, she's not going to get very far."

Ash paused at the elevator and turned to face her father. She looked so much like Marguerite in her anger that Roxton was momentarily speechless. Fortunately, Ash didn't need him to say anything, "You listen to me you pigheaded, chauvinistic …" Ash stopped. If she continued, she was likely to say something she didn't honestly mean, "If we don't go after her RIGHT NOW she is going to disappear."

Roxton was completely confused. This did not, however, prevent him from walking across the room and grabbing his rifle, "What are you talking about?"

"PROFESSOR!!!!!!!!!!!!" Ash was finished trying to talk to Roxton. They had to leave, they had to leave now. Marguerite was out there, and every moment they stayed in this stupid treehouse felt like a timer counting down on a bomb. When it exploded, Ash would no longer exist.

Challenger came up from his lab faster than Roxton had ever seen him move, "What? What is it Ash?"

"My moron of a …Roxton let Marguerite leave …alone…"

Challenger was also looking confused and Ash finally lost it, "She went into the dark jungle? By herself? ALONE? Without anyone else? Hello?"

"Oh, gracious …" Challenger was finally catching on, "We must go after her." He started to walk toward Ash, but then stopped, "Wait. This isn't supposed to happen for another hour."

"And a half, to be exact. Guess your calculations were a little off, huh?" Ash stepped into the elevator and pinned her angry eyes on Roxton, "Coming?"

"What are the both of you going on about?"

Challenger looked at Roxton, "I can't explain it to you. Neither can Ash. But we must find Marguerite. Right now."

"Fine. Let's go." Roxton crossed the room and joined Ash in the elevator. He looked back at Challenger, "Are you coming?"

Challenger looked from father to daughter and suddenly he could see it, as he had not before. With Marguerite in the room, the physical resemblance between them overwhelmed the absolute determination, the stubbornness, the desire to do the right thing, and the pride that was all Roxton. Their similarity was not physical, but she was, nevertheless, quite obviously John Roxton's child.

Challenger shook his head, "I think not. I believe the best chance to find her will be by the two people here who know her the best."

Roxton's eyes moved from Challenger to Ash, "You really are her daughter, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"And your father?"

Ash had known the question was coming. In fact, she had prepared for it before she left, but now, looking at him, she wanted to be honest. She wanted to assure him that her mother would never love anyone but him. Their love was absolute, and without condition. Even in her youth, the warmth that love projected around their children gave her strength. She looked at Challenger and could see that his thoughts were reflecting her own, but he shook his head ever so slightly. Now was not the time, or this was something that Roxton could not know.

Ash shrugged, "I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't …"

Challenger interceded, "I really think the two of you should be on your way. Do you have your lamp, Ash?" Ash held up the large flashlight and Challenger nodded.

Roxton didn't waste any more time. There was something going on, and while he was not in the loop as far as what it was, he did know one thing, if something happened to Marguerite, he would never forgive himself. He lowered the elevator and together, he and Ash walked into the darkness.

He began calling as he reached the gate, "Marguerite?"

There was no answer. Nothing at all.

Ash joined him, "Marguerite, ANSWER ME. Please! He's knows he was being stupid, really."

"Hey!" Roxton let Ash walk ahead of him through the gate, but followed close behind, "MARGUERITE, PLEASE …I'm sorry!"

Nothing. Not a sound, not a movement, nothing at all. The panic rose in Roxton's chest as Ash shone the light around. There was no sign of her anywhere, no sign of a struggle, just a jungle full of nothingness. John continued searching for several hours before he had to accept that she was gone. He dropped to his knees in the dirt, "What have I done?"

Ash walked up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder, "Fights happen. Sometimes we all say things we don't mean. Things that under normal circumstances would be ridiculous to us. Anger makes us do a lot of things we never meant to do. This is not your fault, if anyone is to blame …it's me."

Roxton stood and looked down at her. For the first time since she had arrived, he felt pity …and shame. She had as much or more at stake here than he did. If Marguerite had been hurt, or …he paused, no, he wouldn't even consider that an option, "This is not your fault. I don't know why you're here, but I overreacted."

"I'm here because it was meant to be and I'm not going anywhere until we find her. And we will. Together, we will."

Ash knew she couldn't leave now. If she and her father did not find Marguerite, she would not exist at all. The fact that she was still there was a good sign. The future had not yet been rewritten, and this gave her hope.

John wanted to keep searching, but finally had to concede that they were unlikely to fin Marguerite in the dark, even with the flashlight to guide them. They had to wait until dawn. And he knew, without question, this was to be the longest night of his life.

Part Eight

Later that night, somewhere between late night and early morning, John Roxton lay awake. What had he done? What if he had let her walk away and right to death? But no, if she were dead, Ash would not exist and could not be here at all. He turned on to his back and stared at the ceiling. If she got injured, he would never recover. He could feel it in his heart, in his very soul. She was his touchstone, she was the only reason he managed to stay alive. He had become more careful, more observant, more cautious, because he was in love with her and the idea of leaving her here alone was inconceivable.

He had to find her. He had to believe she was not hurt, because if he didn't he would drive himself insane.

John was still awake when the sun began to seep into the treehouse. He got up, still in the clothing he had been wearing the day before and moved to wake Ash. He needn't have worried about it; she was up and ready to walk out the door.

"You didn't sleep either, did you?" John felt pity for her for the first time. He had not really considered the fact that her entire existence was now in question because he was unable to keep his jealousy in check.

Ash shook her head, "No. Just waited for the sun to come up. Let's go."

They went down in the elevator and out, into the jungle. It was eerily silent, as it had been the night before. They walked in silence, until finally, he turned, "I'm sorry."

Ash seemed sincerely surprised, "For what?"

"She never would have walked out if I hadn't …if I ..." he paused. There were so many mistakes he had made yesterday. He shook his head as if the enormity of what he had done was threatening to overwhelm him.

Ash reached out and took her father's hand, "You have nothing to apologize for, Lord Roxton."

"Call me John." He motioned to the dead, silent jungle, "Any ideas on where we should start?"

Ash paused, looking around herself critically, "Well, she didn't just disappear into thin air. Considering how fast we got down here last night …they couldn't possibly have taken her far, she would have fought, we'd have heard her. I'm betting they stashed her for the night."

Roxton looked around himself. The despair and helplessness was overwhelming, "But where? Where do we even begin? There are so many caves around here. Too many."

Ash could see it in his face. The fear of losing her was crashing in on him from every side. She grasped his arm, "Look, I understand your desperation, I do, but you have to pull yourself together. Concentrate. Think. Professor C is right; we know her best, you and me. If anyone can find her, we can. Right? We can, John."

He took a deep breath, "Right. We will."

Ash smiled, "Good. Focus your thoughts, close your eyes, search with your heart, not your mind. It will guide you."

Roxton looked down at her, "Who taught you that?"

She almost replied that, in fact, he had taught her to go with her heart. Always. But instead, she simply shrugged, "I can't remember. But I do know that when your eyes can't see, your heart won't lead you astray."

Roxton looked at her critically, "Sounds like something I would say."

"Really?" Ash turned away and looked into the trees. Something inside her said to go that way, but she was going to wait for him.

A sharp pain shot through Ash like a lightening strike. She almost gasped aloud, but kept silent. She looked down and could see the problem …or not see, as the case may be. Her hand and forearm were fading away. Shimmering, cloudy, in between existence and extinction. She put her hand in her pocket and ignored the pain. They were running out of time.

Part Nine

Roxton closed his eyes and focused on Marguerite. Her face, her smile, her eyes, her heart, her soul. He let it fill him up, let his love for her reach out into the jungle …searching. He remained perfectly still for almost ten minutes, hoping for something he didn't even quite believe could happen, but then he felt it.

Panic, fear, darkness …but it was not his own. She was in danger. She was frightened, but she was alive. He could feel it. He knew it was true, although he could not explain how he knew.

He opened his eyes and looked around. Inexplicably, he began walking. He had no idea where he was going, but he knew, with absolute certainty, that he was headed for Marguerite.

Ash watched as he walked off in the direction she had felt they should go in the first place, "Way to go, dad," she muttered under her breath, and followed.

Roxton continued moving through the jungle with confidence. He could feel himself getting closer. Her presence was almost tangible to him. Ash never said a word. She didn't complain about the pace, she didn't ask to rest, she simply followed him. Of course, she would have followed him straight into Hell if it came down to it. She loved him with every fiber of her being. She had always adored him.

She was his youngest child, his princess …something her brothers never let her forget. Both Edward and Richard found it consistently annoying and always made sure she was aware of it. Her father only laughed and told them to be quite and do something useful.

Ash smiled to herself. She wanted to find her mother and go home. They had such a wonderful life there; she had many things to go back to. Her parents were so much in love that she and her brothers had often found them disgusting in their childhood, but that same love created a cocoon of safety and warmth around the entire family. There was laughter and kindness in her world that many people could only dream of. Her father had often talked about how he and Marguerite met right here, on this Plateau.

Met, survived, and fallen in love. And she stood there as a testament to the very love she remembered. Her Aunt and Uncle Ned and Veronica Malone lived nearby, but often returned to the Plateau. Ash had never known the entire story, but she did know that her Aunt was somehow bound to this Plateau and her Uncle would never let his wife go alone.

Her parents had spoken of one day returning, but she didn't think they ever would. They had three children to consider and if her brothers were any indication, Ash was quite certain grandchildren wouldn't be far behind. She herself had never really met anyone who struck her, and having been raised in a home so full of love, she would never accept anything less. Well, that and the fact that her father did tend to scare off potential suitors.

She actually laughed out loud at the memory of the last pathetic boy Lord Roxton had chased out of their home. If she remembered correctly, her father had, with a straight face, stated that even though he was a prince, he had a brother and was therefore not "technically" heir to the throne. Talk about high standards.

Roxton stopped walking, "You find this funny?"

The pain in his voice forced Ash back to the present, "No. No, I'm sorry. I was just remembering something."

He glared at her for a moment, and then continued walking, "Care to share?" He wasn't at all sure he wanted to know, but his curiosity got the better of him.

"I can't." Ash looked on him with sadness as he sighed.

"Why?"

"Professor C said anything beyond what needs to be done could change the course of the future."

Roxton stopped again, "We've lost Marguerite, Ash. Things can't get much worse."

Ash clenched her fingers inside her pocket as another pain raced through her body. Oh, things could definitely get worse …they already were. Despite this, Ash wanted to reach out to him, to give him the comfort of the memories she now clung to when times were at their very darkest, "She has never loved anyone but you, Lord Roxton."

Roxton turned to stare at her. He didn't know what to think about that. Why would she say it when she had already said she could say nothing? Was she trying to bait him? No, she'd have killed him by now if that had been her plan, "Is that true?"

Ash smiled, "Yes. Yes, it is."

"And yet …" He paused, "Do I die, Ash? Is that why you can't talk about this with me?"

Ash sighed and shook her head, "I've said too much."

Roxton realized what a chance she had taken in giving him just that small amount of information. He accepted the gift as it had been intended, to give him some measure of comfort, "Thank you."

Ash started to speak, but her eyes clouded over with pain and she gasped, grasping her head as it throbbed, "Oh God." She dropped to her knees. Roxton was there in a heartbeat, "Ash?"

"Go. Go find her. We've run out of time."

"I won't leave you here."

Ash felt like fire was drilling its way through her brain, "Please. Leave me."

"I'll carry you." He reached for her, but she pushed away his arm.

"I said leave me."

"Damnit, you're just as stubborn as your mother."

Ash leaned forward, trying to relieve some of the pressure in her head, "I'd say I got it from both sides." She retched, gasped again, and managed to look sideways at Roxton, "Get out of here. Find her, or this will have been for nothing. All of it. Please."

Roxton glanced down at the top of her head as he stood, "I'll come back."

"I know. You always have."

He didn't wait any longer. He turned and bolted through the trees. Their time was up.

Part Ten

Roxton was crashing through the foliage. He didn't care who or what heard him; he had to find Marguerite. Whatever happened in the future between them was not the point. Here, now, this was what mattered. Ash's life was now in question, and he would guess, this meant that Marguerite's life was fading away.

Despite himself, he had grown to care about Ash. He wanted her to have the life she obviously remembered with such fondness. Whether he was a part of that life or not didn't seem to make much difference any more. It took a moment before he realized that this one thing was the definition of absolute love: caring more aboutsomeone else's happiness than you do your own. He did love Marguerite, but until that moment, he hadn't realized how much it had changed him. It was a little shocking, at first, to understand that his love for her had no limit. It was unconditional, as it should be.

He paused, looking around himself. There was something about where he was that made the hairs on his arms stand up. Why did he get the distinct impression he had been here before? He turned a full 380 degrees. He had been here before. A smile touched his lips as he remembered a time, now months past that had changed both of their lives forever. She might try to go back, but he couldn't …he didn't want to. It was in this place that she had lain down her armor at last. The battle between them had come to an end and they had found peace.

His eyes automatically scanned for the cave. He knew it was here somewhere. Why was it that when one is not looking for something, they can usually find it, but when they seek it out …it's never there. He sighed. It was here, he knew it was here, but he couldn't see it.

The memories came in a sensory explosion, anger, rage, love, kindness, gentle touches and words whispered in the darkness that she could not, now, reclaim. He stopped. Other memories, a body, a birthmark, a vivid dream …it was like pieces of a puzzle were finally falling into place in his brain.

It was not her ancestor's body they had found inside the wall of that cave, it was hers. Perhaps they had not had the heart to plunge a knife into her heart and instead filled the entrance with rocks, not to keep her spirit in, but to keep the air out. She was slowly suffocating.

The desperation and fear once again threatened to take over his mind, but he pushed it away, reaching out for her as he had before and like the curtains being drawn back to reveal a hidden picture, it was there. The opening to the cave.

He moved closer, just inside. They had cleared the rocks away and he could hear them murmuring. He couldn't decide if it was chanting or just talking. He loaded his gun, slowly, carefully, quietly. If he had to kill every single one of them to get to her then that's exactly what he would do.

He got closer to the cave entrance, just past the outer chamber. He could hear more clearly now. They spoke in whispers. They were apparently having an argument, albeit quietly.

A man's voice, "We cannot do this. We must let her out."

Another man, his voice flat, without emotion, "And what if it is a girl child? What then? Do we go back to the way things were before?"

"This will make us murderers. Don't you see that? If the child is a girl, we will deal with it, but not now. She is no danger to us now."

The flat voice spoke again, "The prophecy says …"

Another voice, raised, angry, "I KNOW what the prophecy says. I am not, however, prepared to kill in cold blood because of it."

"The other one came true."

"It did. You are correct. I am not saying the child is not a danger to us, only that she is not a danger to us at this moment."

Roxton was caught up in the conversation. His brain in turmoil. What on earth were they talking about? His mind flickered back to the time he and Marguerite had spent in this cave. It wasn't possible …he paused, well, it was possible, but …a child?

He shook it off for the moment. He had to go in there. He had to save her. Ash's life depended on it. Ash's life …, "Oh my God. Help me, please."

He had waited long enough. He burst around the corner, firing as he came. Men were dropping around him so fast that if was difficult to see who he was hitting and who was just trying to get out of the rain of bullets. He didn't register anything; he simply loaded his gun, over and over, until the cave fell silent.

When he stopped, there was nothing. Not one of those men was going to get up again, and for that moment, he didn't care. He crossed the room to the large stone that was pressed into a hole in the cave wall. It took him exactly one and a half seconds to pull that stone away.

Roxton almost cried from sheer relief when he saw the top of Marguerite's head just inside. He reached in and pulled her out, carrying her past the bodies littering the floor and outside. He laid her gently on the ground, "Marguerite?"

At first, she didn't move, she didn't do anything. Roxton could feel the fear prickling along his spine. Not dead, she couldn't be dead. Not now.

John reached down and touched her face. It was dirty, covered in dust, and he clumsily tried to clear it off. Tears he hadn't realized were there dripped down, and fell onto her cheek.

Her eyes flickered. Just for a moment. John grasped her arms, "Marguerite, please. Don't give up. I love you, you have to fight."

Her fingers tightened around his arm and finally she gasped. Gasped so hard that it made her choke. She pulled away from him, turning and retching several times, gasping for air until her lungs were no longer burning with a lack of oxygen.

Slowly, Marguerite returned to consciousness. It took her a moment to recognize. Recognize the arms that now surrounded her. The broad chest that she was pressed against.

"John?" Her voice was raspy, harsh.

He placed a canteen to her lips, "Shhh …drink some water."

"I have to tell you …"

He held her closer, "You can tell me later."

Roxton sat there on the ground for a long time, simply holding her, rocking her back and forth, "Please forgive me. Don't you ever leave me again. I can't possibly live without you in my life."

He was weeping openly, and Marguerite reached up to wipe the tears away, "Please don't."

When she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, it was unlike anything they had shared before. It was a kiss filled with promise, love, gentleness, a maelstrom of emotions he didn't know he possessed until that moment.

He finally broke away and pulled her closer, "Promise me."

"I won't ever leave you, John."

"Promise me, never."

Marguerite smiled gently, "Never."

"I'll always be here for you, Marguerite."

She touched his face gently, "You always have."

Roxton laughed, his heart filled with relief and joy, "Forever."

From the edge of the wood, a young woman stood watching. Her eyes were gleaming. This was exactly as it should be.

The end

TLW Fan Fiction Page

Page Last Update: 03/07/2005