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prisca1960

Fan Fiction - Jeremiah (TV) - Woman behind glass


I've just noticed that I never post this at my LJ. Originally written for fffc - Challenge 16.23 = Windows

Title: Woman behind glass
Fandom: Jeremiah (TV)
Character: Meaghan
Rating: PG13
Word Count:1019
Disclaimer: Of course, I don't own Jeremiah nor the character :( - I'm just borrowing them for a while



Every night she was cowering in the corner, singing herself to sleep. She couldn't sing, her voice too weak and unimpressive but it helped her to remember.

Her childhood had been a good one. Her father often was too busy to play with her but every evening he came home, took her into his strong arms, threw her into the air and laughed. Her mother was around most of the day, she taught her how to ride a bike, how to cook. Or she did sing to her with her wonderful, soft voice.

When she did grow up her, left her hometown to go to College, the still stayed close to her parents; including long phone calls and weekend trips homewards. Some months later she met John; she had always been a bit shy but he was not willing to give up before she finally excepted his invitation to a movie. Life was perfect.

Then, out of the blue, everything changed. A virus took over control of the world, within some weeks almost everyone older than sixteen, seventeen was dead. Everyone but her! Though she carried the virus inside it didn't kill her ... but everyone else who got nearer to her.

Men in white, protective suits, the eyes like tiny knobs through the double-glassed helmets, brought her into a secret military base; looked her up at a maximum security laboratory; watched her through the thick glass window. She had begged them to bring it to an end, but they refused to show mercy. And deep inside she knew, from now on she wouldn't be more than a lab rat until the end of time.

Every night she was cowering in the corner, singing herself to sleep.

+++

Eons later, hard to say if weeks or months were gone. Days and nights, minutes and hours; always the same, glaring neon light that illuminated her prison deep under the mountain. At first, she had tried to keep track by counting the meals they brought her, the experiments they made but finally, time had lost every kind of importance.

She didn't even open her eyes when she heard the heavy main door being opened, only a second later the sizzling sound that told her that someone had entered the airlock. Footsteps got nearer, lightweight steps finally attracted her attention. Although she was locked up behind thick glass, no one had ever dared to enter the lab complex without protective clothing, including heavy overshoes which were booming with every step.

But when she finally turned to the large window, she almost stopped breathing. The boy, who was standing face to face with her, was young, short, brown hair, gray eyes; curiosity and some pity she could find there but no hint of fear .

Before she could wonder if she had taken refuge in her dream world once again, he stretched out his hand and pressed the communication button.

"They're gone!"

His voice was soft and warm, so different from the scientists and military personnel around. Reluctantly she sat up at the bedside and stared at him with wild pounding heart. He had pressed one hand against the glass of the window, his long fingers splayed. She couldn't resist any longer; she went over, raised her own hand, squeezed her fingers against the glass, where his fingers rested. He didn't flinch. She swallowed; so hard to believe that he was real.

"What are you doing here," she finally whispered.
„I guess, you shouldn't be.“

"It's no one around anymore to hold me back," he answered.
"They are gone. I have seen the convoys leaving. They have given up the Mountain."

His words made her shudder. If this was not a dream, they had decided to leave her behind, locked up in the lab, left to die. So long she had longed for it but suddenly the panic was overwhelming. Desperately she gasped for air, cringed in pain, her fists hammered against the glass of the window.

"Let me out," she yelled and wheezed.
"Can't breathe ... open the door ... please … please … I wanna go home."
Then she broke down onto the cold floor, helplessly crying.

+++

Almost fifteen years later.

„Good morning, princess. I'm bringing your breakfast, tea and some toast, as ever. And some fresh strawberries today. Unfortunately, we are out of cream, I'm sorry; I guess I need to have a serious talk with the cook.“

A smile sneaked on Meaghan's face. This was the moment that always reminded her, that life was still worth living. This ritual every morning between her and Markus. Years were gone since he had found her in her glassy prison, since her breakdown. Back then she had given up all hope; all that she had begged him for, was to allow her to die. But Markus had watched her with his much too serious, sad gray eyes and finally he had slowly shaken his head.

„I can't give you your freedom today,“ he had told her.
„But I promise, one day the world will be a better one. And you will be a part of it.“

She knew better: she had witnessed the downfall of the civilization; she was a part of it. The world had reached its last days and the desperate clamping of life was just the hopeless try to put off the inevitable. But when she looked at the boy at the other side of the glass she was unable to tell him the truth. He was so young, so determined, after all he had to go through, he was still not willing to give up hope.

She had forced herself to smile; strange, she hadn't smiled for ages.
„I do believe you,“ she lied at an.
„If someone is able to build up a new world, it's you!“

***

Fifteen years. The world hadn't stopped to turn around. And even if she was still the woman behind glass, her life was worth living. Thanks to a young man who was not willing to stop fighting for the future of the world ... and for her.

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