Knight Squadron - Out of Reach

Note: Originally written in 2003.

Synopsis: Just when Hanson thought his life had a silver lining, the clouds appeared...

***

Chapter 1...

"I don't feel like losing any more money tonight," Hanson St. John stood as he tossed his cards on the table. He looked over at his girlfriend, "Wanna go for a walk?"

She shrugged, "Sure."

At Jarro' questioning glance, Aiden and Ares too intent on the game to do anything more than wave a hand in farewell, Hanson chuckled. "Don't worry, buddy. We'll be back before Ares wins a hand."

"See you next year, Hanson," Jarro laughed, waving them away. It was his turn to bid, anyhow.

Hanson and Leanna linked hands and strolled from the pub. She leaned up and kissed his cheek. "Let's get married."

"Married?" he almost squeaked in surprise.

"Sure. You gave me this necklace, what, a year ago? And promised you'd ask me to marry you. Well, I just decided you're waiting too long."

He grinned, "I wasn't sure if you were ready, if I was ready..."

"Sure we're ready," she grinned. "So, when can we get married?"

He laughed, truly happy. "How about now?"

She grinned, "I knew you were going to say that."

"Well, I know neither of us want a big to-do, and there's a place just across that walkbridge down the way that does drive through marriages. Imagine the look on the guy's faces when we come back and tell them what we did!"

She grinned. "You know, Jarro'd kill you."

Hanson shrugged, "He'll get over it."

She grinned lopsidedly, "Well, then let's do it! I'll race you to the bridge!" With that she sprinted off ahead of him.

"Wait!" he called after her, catching up with her just as they reached their side of the bridge. "Don't you think we should go there together? What'll we tell the justice when one of us shows up alone? 'Oh, don't worry, the person I'm marrying will be here soon.' He'll think we're crazy!"

"Aren't we?"

He grinned, "Only for each other."

She nodded, "Now's when you're supposed to kiss me."

"I thought that was after we married?"

"I want a kiss now!" She reached up and pulled his head down, crushing his lips to hers.

He wrapped his arms tightly around her, deepening the kiss. He pulled away a short time later, "If you keep kissing me like that, we'll never make it across that walkbridge."

She smiled and linked an arm through his. "Well, then, by all means... let's get moving."

***

Chapter 2...

As they were walking, it started to rain. Nothing heavy, just a gentle mist. They looked at each other, sharing a thought, and linked hands as they started jogging across.

They only got halfway.

The explosion came from nowhere, its concussion throwing them from their feet. The walkway crumbled away beside them as they scrambled to safer ground.

"Hanson!" she cried out, as a second blast blew her feet from beneath her, only her grip on the edge of the railing keeping her from plummeting to her death.

He turned from where he was crouched on the edge to find that she hadn't pulled herself up beside him, that she'd been just slow enough to be caught in the second blast. His hand shot out to her wrist, as he lay himself out along the walkway to try and pull her up. "Hold on, Leanna!"

"I'm trying!" she told him, fear lacing her voice.

"I've got you, Lya..." he reached out with his other hand. "Grab hold, I'll pull you up."

"I'm afraid," she kept her grip on the railing, his hand around her wrist.

"Give me your other hand, then you won't have to let go!"

She grimaced as she tried to, but found her arm not responding to her commands. She glanced down to find shards of concrete and metal lodged in her shoulder. Her right arm was now useless. "I... I can't," she told him weakly as she looked up, her large dark eyes filled with terror.

He reached down with his other hand wrapping it around her forearm. "Just hold on, Lea!" He turned his head to shout over his shoulder, "HELP!"

There was an explosion, not terribly far away. Ares's attention snapped up from his loosing hand of poker. "Did you guys hear that?"

"Hear what?" Jarro mumbled, tossing a few chips onto the table.

"An explosion."

"I didn't hear anything, maybe it was your wallet," Aiden joked.

There was a second, louder explosion. They all heard that. The three pilots jumped up, suddenly realizing Hanson and Leanna were nowhere to be seen. "Where'd they go?" Aiden asked.

"They said they were going to go for a... walk..." Jarro started running to the door, Aiden and Ares fast on his heels.

He paused barely a moment to catch bearings, and saw half the walkway bridging the two buildings had been blown away. And someone was dangling as another someone tried to pull them up. As he ran to help, a bone-chilling voice entered his hearing.

It was Hanson's, and he was calling for help.

***

Chapter 3...

She couldn't stop the tears from beginning to fall down her cheeks. "Hanson... I love you," she told him. With a jolt of courage, she let go of the railing to grab onto his wrist with her left hand.

He looked back to her, "I love you too, Leanna. Come on, we'll be alright. I've got you, help's on it's way."

A small section of the concrete fell away. Hanson hooked his leg through the rail as the concrete disappeared almost to his waist. With the sudden jerking motion, she slipped. He now had her held only by her wrist and hand. "Leanna!"

"I... I can't hold on!"

"Just a little bit longer..." his tears fell to splash on her cheeks, mingling with her own... mingling with the misting rain.

She started to slip, "Hanson, please, I-"

"Shhh, everything's going to be fine." He could hear shouts from behind him. "Help will be here in moments."

Her hand slipped from his.

They screamed.

Hanson reached to try and catch her again, but it was too late. Leanna fell, screaming in hopelessness. Her voice was suddenly cut off as a hover-speeder crashed into her, folding her nearly in half.

Lifelessly, the body bounced away from the vehicle to fall... disappearing into the dark lower depths of Cathorea.

"LEANNA!" He screamed in anguish after her falling form.

Moments later, there were hands pulling him back up onto what was left of the walkway. He struggled to get out of them, struggled to reach after her. "No! Let me go!" He reached forward, "LYANNA!"

Jarro held him firmly, pinning his arms to his sides. "Come on, Hanson, there's nothing we can do."

"Then let me follow her, Jarro," he kept struggling, feeling another set of arms trying to hold him down, then another. "Let me go!"

"Let her go," Ares said quietly.

The misting rain stopped, a deceptive rainbow appearing over the towers beyond.

Hanson kept struggling, "Let me go!" he screamed. Tears stained his cheeks, drawing trails in the dust of the blast that was yet slowly settling around them. "I can't leave her there!"

"Then you won't leave her... but you won't join her either," Aiden told him firmly. He looked to his XO, "Ares, we'll get a hover-speeder and go look for her body, so she can get a decent burial. Jarro, you stay with Hanson."

"No!" Hanson yelled again, struggling, "I'm coming too!"

"She's not going to look well, falling from this height," He reasoned. "You don't..."

"Don't tell me what I do or don't want to see..." Hanson growled and stopped struggling, sniffling as the tears fell. "I want to find her."

The other three men exchanged glances, then Aiden nodded. "Alright. I'll be right back."

As he left, the other two relaxed their grip on Hanson, still vigilant lest the distraught Raylian break away and leap to his own untimely death...

***

Chapter 4...

Aiden returned quickly, and after they piled into the hover-speeder, he began to make an almost circling descent, to be sure she hadn't fallen on some walkway between there and the low levels.

She hadn't.

They reached the ground level, or what had once been such, seeing a group of aliens and once-humans gathered in one area. Something was strange though. Usually, they would be clawing after each other for the unfortunate's things. Yet they stood back at an amazed and respectable distance.

As the Knights rushed forward, murmurs of 'Templars' could be heard. They didn't pick up on why, until they pushed through to the center.

There were Leanna's clothing, her things, as they would have been. One leg and arm lay at crazy angles, and the band that had held her long braid lay just far enough to the side to suggest it had been worn... but there was no Leanna. Only blood and grey-matter splattered on the ground suggested she'd been there, had landed violently... but there was no body.

Hanson looked up at the others in confusion, then knelt and patted the clothing, as though expecting his eyes to have been deceiving him, and she was yet there.

Empty.

He gathered the clothing to himself and cried, rocking back and forth, keening moans emitting from his throat. Something fell to the ground, and he reached to pick it up. It was the necklace he'd given her as a promise... a promise that, now, could never be fulfilled.

Hanson sat for a long while like that, then mechanically got up, gathering her things to himself. Without a word to his comrades, he moved to the hover-speeder, and sat in the back. He exuded an aura of utter isolation, keeping the others from trying to talk to him.

They knew he just needed some time alone. Aiden drove them back to the base, and Jarro walked with Hanson back to the barracks where they shared rooms. Without a word, Hanson entered his room and locked the door.

With nobody to see him, Jarro let himself cry for the girl who'd been his best friend's love... and had been a close friend and confidante to them all.

For three days, Jarro paced outside Hanson's room. Other squadmates had come by, trying to see him, but it was a no dice situation. The Danite wouldn't answer his comm, wouldn't even get annoyed when Jarro tried knocking constantly. He once went at it for two hours, tap tap tap tap, and not a word of admonishment was received.

Hanson never emerged, but that wasn't uncommon. The man occasionally would get in a funk and stay in his room. He had a shower, and a stash of food, so he could go for quite some time.

But, this was different. Jarro knew how much Hanson cared for Leanna, and he knew his best friend wasn't just hunkering down for the winter. Hanson was in mourning...

The more he thought about it, the more worried he got. Things soon got to the point where he couldn't wait a moment longer for Hanson to reemerge. Knowing he was going to hear it from the base keepers, and not caring, he pulled out his pistol and shot the door-panel.

Hanson's door slid open to reveal a dark room, the only light coming from the now open doorway. It fell just short of a figure sitting listlessly in a chair. Not moving.

Jarro wasn't even sure if it was breathing. He quickly moved forward and shook his friend's shoulder to no avail. The man was nearly comatose, clutching Leanna's things.

Unresponsive.

He looked as though he'd gone through the wars alone. His usually neat hair was unkempt, concrete dust still pasted through the strands that fell over his face. Even stubble was present, a testimony to just how long he'd been like that.

He had a pulse though, it was beating slowly, as though trudging along unwillingly, automatically.

Now Jarro was scared. He quickly commed Aiden, asking him what to do.

***

Hanson lay on a clean bunk in a mental ward, still clutching the bloody clothing, still unmoving.

Aiden, Ares and Jarro took shifts sitting with him. It wasn't because there were more pressing matters - they were on leave for the month - it was because seeing their friend like this was taxing on the soul.

When Aiden sat with him, he tried talking to him about all the good times they'd all had. Jarro tried to make Hanson laugh in remembrance of the pranks Leanna had helped them pull. Ares said nothing, just watching over the Danite in an understanding silence. Unsure what to say, lost in memories of his own. Because of this, he was often given the graveyard shift - grisly term, but appropriate nonetheless.

Hanson wasn't sleeping anyhow. Nor did he eat, or drink, or anything. The only time he'd remotely respond would be if someone tried to take Leanna's things from him. He simply clutched them tighter to himself.

Until he no longer had the strength to do so.

One by one, they were able to take the bloodstained clothes away, one by one the things she had were placed in a box. Finally, all that was left in his loosely gripped hand was the necklace she'd worn, the necklace he'd given her.

They let him keep that...

***

Chapter 5...

He was dying, they could see it. He'd lost the will to live, and without that will, there was nothing sustaining him. Intravenial lines and machines could only monitor him, keep him going so long before his lack of will negated their effort completely. If, no when that would happen, he would be gone forever - joining his true love in a silent death.

It had been three weeks since Leanna's tragic demise, and time was running short. They rarely tried speaking to him anymore, simply sitting beside him, occasionally touching his shoulder to let him know they were still there. That they still cared, and his leaving would surely crush them.

One night, as it neared 0330, Hanson stirred. Ares was dozing, but his honed instincts startled him awake at the faint rustle of bedclothes. He looked over, barely daring to breathe lest he disturb the near-comatose man... who was now moving?

He'd heard somewhere that just before someone dies, there is a jolt of energy from who knows where. The ability is given even the most deathly ill to say goodbye to whomever is there to say goodbye to.

For the first time in all the time he'd spent with his friend, he spoke to him. Maybe it was God leading him to do so, he did not know. But, he knew that he must speak to Hanson now... before it was too late.

As the he was silently watched, Ares let unfold the story of his own lost love. The light of his life. The fiance' that had been killed among millions in Tarsus's destruction. As he spoke, he could see Hanson's eyes clear some in understanding... in acceptance that he was not the only one to lose someone in a horrible way.

A whisper stole from his lips, and the Son of Tarsus leaned closer to hear what he was trying to say. From weeks of disuse, Hanson's usually smooth baritone voice was reduced to a scratchy whisper through parched lips, almost difficult to understand.

But Ares could understand, even if he hadn't said the words... "Will the hurt ever go away?"

He shook his head honestly. "No... but it does fade. Soon all that's left is good memories, and the knowledge she'd want you to go on."

"And if I don't want to go on?"

"Your friends and family, all of us would be heartbroken."

Hanson nodded weakly and, for the first time in three weeks, his eyes fluttered shut. His weak grip on the necklace slackened as his body went limp.

Fear shot through Ares's heart. Had his friend given up for good? But no, as he sat there listening in the stillness, he could hear the steady, shallow breathing of a tortured soul finally finding rest in the comforting arms of sleep.

It was a hard road to recovery for Hanson, but with his friends support he trudged through it. His mother even came to visit from Turin, leaving his young Nephew in the care of his Aunt.

They spoke of old times, when he'd been a child, before the Jaheem had touched his family as intimately as it had, by now, thousands of lives. He learned that, aloof as his father had been, he and his mother shared a great love. Mrs. St. John told her son the same thing Ares had told him. The pain would fade, and the memories would remain.

He was eventually released from the hospital upon the condition that if ever he started feeling a relapse, he would speak with someone. His will grew strong in the following months, and eventually the promised fading began to occur.

It was as though he suddenly woke up one day, and the sun suddenly shone. Yet, the rain clouds hovered overhead, a silent reminder that true happiness is something he would always have to work for... but would never be too far out of reach.

***

The End!