Tin Man Fic: My Sacrifice
Blows the dust off this one. I can't believe it's been more than a year since I last posted an update.
Title: My Sacrifice
Author: gatechic
Characters/Pairing: A bunch of people - I'm too lazy to list. This will be centered around Azkadellia and Garrett, eventually.
Rating: PG 13-16
Summary: Post-series. After the events of Bad Company. The Zone is in disarray with fractions forming across the land. Will DG and the Cains be able to save the Zone from another war or will brother fight brother? One will make the ultimate sacrifice, one will get revenge, and one will heal.
WARNING: Original character death.
Word Count: 3,063
Disclaimer: Tin Man characters belong to the SciFi Channel, RHI, Steven Long Mitchell and Craig W. Van Sickle. But Travis, Isabelle, and Garrett belong to me. I also borrow from L. Frank Baum, Gregory Maguire, and Rachel R Cosgrove (Payes). This is purely for fun and I'm not making a penny off of this.
A/N: This is a WIP and full of OCs. Written for the Big Damn Prompt Table. My table, complete with the finished icons, is here. Yes, I do intend on finishing the other fics, but my muse writes what he wants to write.
Government|| Symbol, support, Government|| Symbol, support, erase|| Heat, solid|| Bizarre|| Day|| Boot, catch/caught, tangle||Paint, granted, envelope, rock||Mythic, stripes, liquid,luck||Skull/Head||Dragon, Knob, Fancy, List|| Ship, Branch/Stick, Bead|| Sharp|| Snippet
Jeb left to go in search of his father, who had departed earlier to search for Azkadelia and Garrett, to tell him what happened to Garrett once the news reached the Royal Family. The Queen and DG insisted that Jeb take men with him and not go out on his own. Garrett may not have been the only target and that meant Wyatt could be in danger. Wyatt was out there and had no idea that Zero had ambushed Azkadelia’s convoy.
Jeb wanted to rush, push his horse as hard as he could since he had no idea how far his father had traveled. He was hoping they could close the distance between him and his father quickly. However, with each passing moment of seeing no sign of his father, Jeb grew increasingly worried. But he had to get that emotion out of his mind if he was going to find him. He needed to think and act clearly.
He leaned sideways, checking the ground for any signs the caravan went off the path. In choosing which road to take, Jeb had chosen this particular path since it wasn’t heavily traveled, but the downside was that it went through the forest, where anybody would be easy pickings for an ambush. “Dammit, I should have thought of that,” he said to himself. He sighed deeply, now knowing the guilt his father carried about mistakes made in the past.
Actually, the bigger question was, who knew the convoy would head this way? Jeb twisted on his saddle, facing the men behind him and then turned back to face forward. He shook his head. “No,” he whispered, “I handpicked the men myself. They wouldn’t…” he trailed off as he twisted on his saddle again, glancing from one man to another. He knew them. Lived in camps with them. Shared joys and sorrows with them of Resistance life. Some even fought by his side at the Tower on the day of the eclipse. He trusted them.
But he couldn’t shake the thought that one, maybe two, betrayed him. Or that there was a spy in his ranks. He faced forward again as they neared a bend in the path. Resistance fighters often spoke about getting even with the Sorceress. However, would they go so far as attacking his uncle and an innocent woman, who, as a child, was just in the wrong place at the wrong time? Now, he didn’t know what to think.
A short time later, they rounded a bend and overturned wagons came into view. A lump grew in Jeb’s throat at the sight of buzzards on the ground picking at the carcasses of horses and men. He pulled the gun from his holster and fired a few shots in the air while he screamed as loud as he could to scare off the winged scavengers.
When the sounds of gunshots echoed in the air, Wyatt put the whiskey bottle down and was about to unholster his gun when he heard Jeb’s voice. He stood and stumbled out from behind one of the wagons and waved his hand.
Jeb, upon seeing his father, released the breath he had been holding and said a silent ‘thank you’ to the gods. He kicked his horse to a trot and surveyed the scene as he passed the remains of men and horses. When Jeb reached his father, he could tell his father had been drinking; the signs were all there.
Wyatt shook his head. “I can’t find him. There’s blood back in the woods…” he said, pointing before slightly losing his balance.
“Pop, he’s alive,” Jeb said. He slid down from the saddle and approached his father.
“What?” he asked, not sure if he heard Jeb right or not.
“Azkadelia got him to the hospital in Central. She saved him.”
Wyatt shook his head. “But, there’s so much blood…” he started, and then narrowed his eyes; “Wait, what did you say?”
“Azkadelia saved him, according to the message we received. She used her magic and brought him back.” He glanced down and saw his uncle’s personal belongings had spilled out from the saddle bag. He had to do a double take when he saw a mini Vapor pipe. He was about to ask his father about it when he started to mumble.
“She brought him back…” Wyatt said, pacing. He scratched his head, willing the whiskey to leave his system so he could think clearly. “She brought him…back…” he stopped and stared at Garrett’s dead horse. “Oh, my…” The realization of what Jeb meant made his heart pound hard in his chest. “Garrett died and she brought him back to life, like the Queen did for DG?”
Jeb nods. “Yeah,” he replied. He closed the distance between him and his father. “Azkadelia said Zero was responsible.” He wasn’t about to second guess himself for allowing his father to stop him that day in the tent. This wasn’t the time to tell his father he should have let him kill Zero when he had the chance.
“I found him,” Wyatt started. He turned slightly and pointed. “Over that way.”
“Why are you here, then? You should be watching over him,” Jeb retorted, angered that Zero was left alone again. Unless he was in another iron suit.
Wyatt could hear the anger in Jeb’s voice and he didn’t blame him. He should be mad, gods know that he’s mad at himself. He didn’t need to hear the thoughts Jeb had going through his mind, he can see them in his son’s eyes. “I did watch over him…until he died,” he added with a nod.
“He’s dead?” Jeb had waited to hear those words for a long time. Too bad it took this long. He should have hanged for his crimes a long time ago. He does believe his father, but he wants to see the body for himself. “Where is he?”
Wyatt nodded. “This way,” he waved his hand for Jeb to follow him.
Before following Wyatt, he told the men where he was going and that he’ll be back soon. The men went to work to upright one of the wagons so they can bring the dead men home to their families. As far as the men who ambushed the convoy, they truly didn’t care. Even if all of them were not Longcoats, they were being treated as if they were. The Resistance had little regard for dead Longcoats, and that sentiment is still alive and well.
Jeb told DG her desire to unite the Zone was fruitless at best. Building bridges between the people and the ex-Longcoats was going to be a monumental task, but even she had to admit that it could take annuals. Emotions are still too raw with those the Longcoats tortured for the discussion of forgiveness.
Once they arrived at the hospital, the Royal family was reunited with Azkadelia. The Queen saw her daughter with gray hair, a sign the young princess sacrificed her magic for the life of another. “Oh, my dear…” she said, pulling her daughter close. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, still dealing with guilt and the many ‘what ifs’ that occupy her thoughts these days. All those annuals being kept in the Sorceresses’’ prison kept her shielded from the horrors her people were experiencing. Once she was freed and saw the condition of the lands, she felt guilty for not trying to find a way to free Azkadelia and lock up the Sorceress permanently. No matter how many times DG tells her there was nothing she could have done, it doesn’t help that she should have tried harder.
All the emotions Azkadelia held finally found their way out when she felt her mother’s arms wrap around her. Ahamo then joined his wife, embracing his daughter, followed by DG joining her family.
The walk through the forest didn’t start off quiet between them, but when Wyatt showed Jeb the spot where he thinks Garrett may have died, they became silent. Wyatt led him through an area of thick brush and pointed. “Right over there, you’ll find him.”
Jeb started to run once he spotted Zero’s body lying next to a tree. He saw enough of death to know that Zero was not going to terrorize his family, or anyone, again. He sighed in relief, seeing no life in the man’s eyes. Seeing the man dead brought great satisfaction to him. He glanced skyward, the suns’ rays sparkling through the trees. “Rest in peace, Mom.” Jeb turned his gaze back to the Zero. “Rot in hell,” Jeb said, sneering, and then walked away.
Wyatt stayed back and watched Jeb. He paid no attention to the sounds of the forest life around him. The only sound he heard was the heavy beating of his heart in his ears. Zero was dead. And he made sure of it. He had stopped Jeb from killing him, but what would Jeb say if he knew the truth about how Zero died? Leaving Zero locked in the suit is what Adora would want, but would she proud of how he handled it this time? Probably not. Would Jeb call him a hypocrite? Probably. Would DG be angry? Probably. But that is something he’ll have to deal with later.
“Pop, what happened?” Jeb asked.
Wyatt nodded. Looks like the time to deal with it was now, after all. It was quite a walk back to the horses, so they certainly had the time to talk, possibly about many things. By the Saints, how he wished he had brought the whiskey with him.
The Royal Family was escorted to one of the conference rooms for privacy. Azkadelia recounted the events from earlier to her family. DG, at times, shifted on her seat listening to her sister’s story. But when Az described what happened in the operating room, she sat up straight on her seat. “Wait, what color was the magic you breathed into Mister Garrett?”
“It was green. Why?” Az answered, glancing between DG and her mother.
DG glanced at her mother, her question written in her expression. “Mom, does it matter?” She was hoping it didn’t.
The Queen shook her head. “I don’t think it does.” It wasn’t often that an Ozian witch gave up her magic to save the life of another. In fact, she doesn’t recall it ever being done in the history of the Outer Zone.
“Oh…” Az began, remembering what she saw in the mirror in the Northern Palace. “It was grayish for Mother.” Oh no, what have I done? she wondered to herself, hoping she didn’t cause Mister Garrett more pain.
The Queen smiled. “I’m sure it means nothing. Perhaps it’s just your aura, Azkadelia. Don’t think anything of it.” She had plenty of practice of keeping up a strong front. The last thing her eldest daughter needed was to worry about something else that was out of her control.
Ahamo sat, lifting his hand to his mouth. He had to admit that even he had concerns as to whether or not some part of the Sorceress stayed behind in Azkadelia. Raw didn’t sense her presence but the evil witch was powerful and could have hidden somewhere deep inside his daughter. Now he was wondering if the evil witch was successful in fooling everyone including Raw and was now hiding in Garrett. And if he was thinking this, he was sure there were plenty of other people with this same thought.
In his hospital room, Garrett opened his eyes and watched the nurse just as she turned her back on him before leaving the room. A shiver ran up her spine when she sensed she was being watched. She glanced over shoulder and saw the man was still sleeping. She shook her head and then knocked on the door, alerting the guard on the other side. He opened the door for her and before leaving, she gave one last glance to the man. His face showed a man who was ill; he was pale, thin, and had dark circles under his eyes. She didn’t know much about him, but from his scars and recent wounds, he had been through more than any one person should. After leaving, the guard closed the door and then locked it.
He opened his eyes and his lips curled upwards in a slight smile as his eyes glowed green.
Title: My Sacrifice
Author: gatechic
Characters/Pairing: A bunch of people - I'm too lazy to list. This will be centered around Azkadellia and Garrett, eventually.
Rating: PG 13-16
Summary: Post-series. After the events of Bad Company. The Zone is in disarray with fractions forming across the land. Will DG and the Cains be able to save the Zone from another war or will brother fight brother? One will make the ultimate sacrifice, one will get revenge, and one will heal.
WARNING: Original character death.
Word Count: 3,063
Disclaimer: Tin Man characters belong to the SciFi Channel, RHI, Steven Long Mitchell and Craig W. Van Sickle. But Travis, Isabelle, and Garrett belong to me. I also borrow from L. Frank Baum, Gregory Maguire, and Rachel R Cosgrove (Payes). This is purely for fun and I'm not making a penny off of this.
A/N: This is a WIP and full of OCs. Written for the Big Damn Prompt Table. My table, complete with the finished icons, is here. Yes, I do intend on finishing the other fics, but my muse writes what he wants to write.
Government|| Symbol, support, Government|| Symbol, support, erase|| Heat, solid|| Bizarre|| Day|| Boot, catch/caught, tangle||Paint, granted, envelope, rock||Mythic, stripes, liquid,luck||Skull/Head||Dragon, Knob, Fancy, List|| Ship, Branch/Stick, Bead|| Sharp|| Snippet
Jeb left to go in search of his father, who had departed earlier to search for Azkadelia and Garrett, to tell him what happened to Garrett once the news reached the Royal Family. The Queen and DG insisted that Jeb take men with him and not go out on his own. Garrett may not have been the only target and that meant Wyatt could be in danger. Wyatt was out there and had no idea that Zero had ambushed Azkadelia’s convoy.
Jeb wanted to rush, push his horse as hard as he could since he had no idea how far his father had traveled. He was hoping they could close the distance between him and his father quickly. However, with each passing moment of seeing no sign of his father, Jeb grew increasingly worried. But he had to get that emotion out of his mind if he was going to find him. He needed to think and act clearly.
He leaned sideways, checking the ground for any signs the caravan went off the path. In choosing which road to take, Jeb had chosen this particular path since it wasn’t heavily traveled, but the downside was that it went through the forest, where anybody would be easy pickings for an ambush. “Dammit, I should have thought of that,” he said to himself. He sighed deeply, now knowing the guilt his father carried about mistakes made in the past.
Actually, the bigger question was, who knew the convoy would head this way? Jeb twisted on his saddle, facing the men behind him and then turned back to face forward. He shook his head. “No,” he whispered, “I handpicked the men myself. They wouldn’t…” he trailed off as he twisted on his saddle again, glancing from one man to another. He knew them. Lived in camps with them. Shared joys and sorrows with them of Resistance life. Some even fought by his side at the Tower on the day of the eclipse. He trusted them.
But he couldn’t shake the thought that one, maybe two, betrayed him. Or that there was a spy in his ranks. He faced forward again as they neared a bend in the path. Resistance fighters often spoke about getting even with the Sorceress. However, would they go so far as attacking his uncle and an innocent woman, who, as a child, was just in the wrong place at the wrong time? Now, he didn’t know what to think.
A short time later, they rounded a bend and overturned wagons came into view. A lump grew in Jeb’s throat at the sight of buzzards on the ground picking at the carcasses of horses and men. He pulled the gun from his holster and fired a few shots in the air while he screamed as loud as he could to scare off the winged scavengers.
When the sounds of gunshots echoed in the air, Wyatt put the whiskey bottle down and was about to unholster his gun when he heard Jeb’s voice. He stood and stumbled out from behind one of the wagons and waved his hand.
Jeb, upon seeing his father, released the breath he had been holding and said a silent ‘thank you’ to the gods. He kicked his horse to a trot and surveyed the scene as he passed the remains of men and horses. When Jeb reached his father, he could tell his father had been drinking; the signs were all there.
Wyatt shook his head. “I can’t find him. There’s blood back in the woods…” he said, pointing before slightly losing his balance.
“Pop, he’s alive,” Jeb said. He slid down from the saddle and approached his father.
“What?” he asked, not sure if he heard Jeb right or not.
“Azkadelia got him to the hospital in Central. She saved him.”
Wyatt shook his head. “But, there’s so much blood…” he started, and then narrowed his eyes; “Wait, what did you say?”
“Azkadelia saved him, according to the message we received. She used her magic and brought him back.” He glanced down and saw his uncle’s personal belongings had spilled out from the saddle bag. He had to do a double take when he saw a mini Vapor pipe. He was about to ask his father about it when he started to mumble.
“She brought him back…” Wyatt said, pacing. He scratched his head, willing the whiskey to leave his system so he could think clearly. “She brought him…back…” he stopped and stared at Garrett’s dead horse. “Oh, my…” The realization of what Jeb meant made his heart pound hard in his chest. “Garrett died and she brought him back to life, like the Queen did for DG?”
Jeb nods. “Yeah,” he replied. He closed the distance between him and his father. “Azkadelia said Zero was responsible.” He wasn’t about to second guess himself for allowing his father to stop him that day in the tent. This wasn’t the time to tell his father he should have let him kill Zero when he had the chance.
“I found him,” Wyatt started. He turned slightly and pointed. “Over that way.”
“Why are you here, then? You should be watching over him,” Jeb retorted, angered that Zero was left alone again. Unless he was in another iron suit.
Wyatt could hear the anger in Jeb’s voice and he didn’t blame him. He should be mad, gods know that he’s mad at himself. He didn’t need to hear the thoughts Jeb had going through his mind, he can see them in his son’s eyes. “I did watch over him…until he died,” he added with a nod.
“He’s dead?” Jeb had waited to hear those words for a long time. Too bad it took this long. He should have hanged for his crimes a long time ago. He does believe his father, but he wants to see the body for himself. “Where is he?”
Wyatt nodded. “This way,” he waved his hand for Jeb to follow him.
Before following Wyatt, he told the men where he was going and that he’ll be back soon. The men went to work to upright one of the wagons so they can bring the dead men home to their families. As far as the men who ambushed the convoy, they truly didn’t care. Even if all of them were not Longcoats, they were being treated as if they were. The Resistance had little regard for dead Longcoats, and that sentiment is still alive and well.
Jeb told DG her desire to unite the Zone was fruitless at best. Building bridges between the people and the ex-Longcoats was going to be a monumental task, but even she had to admit that it could take annuals. Emotions are still too raw with those the Longcoats tortured for the discussion of forgiveness.
Once they arrived at the hospital, the Royal family was reunited with Azkadelia. The Queen saw her daughter with gray hair, a sign the young princess sacrificed her magic for the life of another. “Oh, my dear…” she said, pulling her daughter close. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, still dealing with guilt and the many ‘what ifs’ that occupy her thoughts these days. All those annuals being kept in the Sorceresses’’ prison kept her shielded from the horrors her people were experiencing. Once she was freed and saw the condition of the lands, she felt guilty for not trying to find a way to free Azkadelia and lock up the Sorceress permanently. No matter how many times DG tells her there was nothing she could have done, it doesn’t help that she should have tried harder.
All the emotions Azkadelia held finally found their way out when she felt her mother’s arms wrap around her. Ahamo then joined his wife, embracing his daughter, followed by DG joining her family.
The walk through the forest didn’t start off quiet between them, but when Wyatt showed Jeb the spot where he thinks Garrett may have died, they became silent. Wyatt led him through an area of thick brush and pointed. “Right over there, you’ll find him.”
Jeb started to run once he spotted Zero’s body lying next to a tree. He saw enough of death to know that Zero was not going to terrorize his family, or anyone, again. He sighed in relief, seeing no life in the man’s eyes. Seeing the man dead brought great satisfaction to him. He glanced skyward, the suns’ rays sparkling through the trees. “Rest in peace, Mom.” Jeb turned his gaze back to the Zero. “Rot in hell,” Jeb said, sneering, and then walked away.
Wyatt stayed back and watched Jeb. He paid no attention to the sounds of the forest life around him. The only sound he heard was the heavy beating of his heart in his ears. Zero was dead. And he made sure of it. He had stopped Jeb from killing him, but what would Jeb say if he knew the truth about how Zero died? Leaving Zero locked in the suit is what Adora would want, but would she proud of how he handled it this time? Probably not. Would Jeb call him a hypocrite? Probably. Would DG be angry? Probably. But that is something he’ll have to deal with later.
“Pop, what happened?” Jeb asked.
Wyatt nodded. Looks like the time to deal with it was now, after all. It was quite a walk back to the horses, so they certainly had the time to talk, possibly about many things. By the Saints, how he wished he had brought the whiskey with him.
The Royal Family was escorted to one of the conference rooms for privacy. Azkadelia recounted the events from earlier to her family. DG, at times, shifted on her seat listening to her sister’s story. But when Az described what happened in the operating room, she sat up straight on her seat. “Wait, what color was the magic you breathed into Mister Garrett?”
“It was green. Why?” Az answered, glancing between DG and her mother.
DG glanced at her mother, her question written in her expression. “Mom, does it matter?” She was hoping it didn’t.
The Queen shook her head. “I don’t think it does.” It wasn’t often that an Ozian witch gave up her magic to save the life of another. In fact, she doesn’t recall it ever being done in the history of the Outer Zone.
“Oh…” Az began, remembering what she saw in the mirror in the Northern Palace. “It was grayish for Mother.” Oh no, what have I done? she wondered to herself, hoping she didn’t cause Mister Garrett more pain.
The Queen smiled. “I’m sure it means nothing. Perhaps it’s just your aura, Azkadelia. Don’t think anything of it.” She had plenty of practice of keeping up a strong front. The last thing her eldest daughter needed was to worry about something else that was out of her control.
Ahamo sat, lifting his hand to his mouth. He had to admit that even he had concerns as to whether or not some part of the Sorceress stayed behind in Azkadelia. Raw didn’t sense her presence but the evil witch was powerful and could have hidden somewhere deep inside his daughter. Now he was wondering if the evil witch was successful in fooling everyone including Raw and was now hiding in Garrett. And if he was thinking this, he was sure there were plenty of other people with this same thought.
In his hospital room, Garrett opened his eyes and watched the nurse just as she turned her back on him before leaving the room. A shiver ran up her spine when she sensed she was being watched. She glanced over shoulder and saw the man was still sleeping. She shook her head and then knocked on the door, alerting the guard on the other side. He opened the door for her and before leaving, she gave one last glance to the man. His face showed a man who was ill; he was pale, thin, and had dark circles under his eyes. She didn’t know much about him, but from his scars and recent wounds, he had been through more than any one person should. After leaving, the guard closed the door and then locked it.
He opened his eyes and his lips curled upwards in a slight smile as his eyes glowed green.