Summary: The course of Time can be diverted a little in one
direction or another, but it cannot be changed completely...
Fandom: Knight Rider
Rated: PG
Warnings: Deathfic.
Author’s
Note:
This is in response to the “Starlit” and the “Retire” fanfic
challenges
in The Kittchen at LiveJournal. Keep in
mind, I’ve never written a fic like this before, so if I mess it up,
please
bear with me.
Sorry…
That
single word that he heard was the first thing that made
him aware. Aware of his location
(wherever that was) he was in, aware of disorientation…
As he
looked about him, he saw that he was
floating…floating in darkness.
Peaceful, painless, darkness…with only a faint, thrumming sound,
almost…like a slow heartbeat.
How
did I get here…? What happened…?
He closed his eyes, although he couldn’t tell the difference
between closed eyes and the environment around him. He started to
think,
What did I feel, what did I hear…and why
did I just say “Sorry”?
After a
long moment, something tickled the edge
of his mind, and he tried to bring it to the forefront.
Warm…something warm and strong surrounding me, the sound
of running water, like a brook or river…and rain. There
was rain falling on me, and something feather-light on my
face for a second.
…me? Just…just
what is going on?
“You’re
here.”
He
turned all around, trying to find the source
of the voice, a female voice, but all he could see was the darkness.
Am
I losing my mind…? There’s nobody here…is
there?
“No, you’re
not going mad. Look in front of you.”
He did as he was told, looking carefully.
At first, all that he could see was the same
darkness….and then, distantly at first, was the glow of stars…lots of
stars
against a black sky. Even if he were
here forever, he couldn’t count them all.
A
starlit sky?
“You can
speak, you know…if you still remember
how. Try it.”
“A starlit sky?”
“Good!
Now, look at the sky closer.”
He nodded at peered closer, and eventually, he
saw a section of the sky actually shimmer, then move.
The shimmering part moved closer to him, taking
on a more solid form with every step.
Once the being stopped moving, he could see just what, or who it
was.
The being in front of him was a woman, a rather
tall one. She had long, midnight-black
hair that went down to the middle of her back, and skin that was as
pale white
as ivory. In wind, the hair would
ripple like a field of grass or even water.
She had matching black eyes, a shapely figure that was well
developed,
yet seemed to speak of a hidden strength.
She wore a ankle-length, dark blue evening dress with a modest V
neckline, complete with puffy sleeves and a type of sequin, maybe
glitter, that
made one think of stars. In one hand
was a silver and blue object that looked like an 8 that was stretched
out a
little too far at the ends.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“My name,” she answered, her voice firm yet
warm, with a hint of music to it, “Is Millennia. I
am the Governess of Time.”
He
blinked then chuckled. “I seem to remember something about
Chronos
being involved with time, not a woman…and that was in myths…”
He
half expected her to be angry, though he
didn’t know why. Instead, though, she
looked bemused.
“Not exactly true. Yes, Chronos is Father Time,
but I am merely the Governess. I watch
over the streams of time, the souls that inhabit this world…such as
yourself.”
He nodded.
It seemed to make sense, but he didn’t know how.
“All right, Millennia, maybe you can answer
some questions for me. Like what am I
doing here…wherever this is? Why is it
when I became aware, I was hearing the word ‘Sorry’?”
She looked at him with a curious expression,
then asked, “Before that word, or around that time, tell me everything
you
experienced. A sound, a sense of
touch…something?”
“Yeah…there was something warm and strong
surrounding me. Also, a sound…sounded
like running water, like a brook or stream…maybe river…and it was
raining. Slow drops at first, but more of
it fell on
me, until it was a rainstorm. And
something like a feather on my face.”
Millennia nodded and raised her staff, which
began to give off a soft, blue glow.
“This look familiar?” she asked quietly.
He turned around…and his eyes widened when he
looked at the image before him. There
were two people in it, and they looked transparent.
An audible gasp came out of his mouth.
“Now do you remember…Michael…?”
The other person in this place, Michael, nodded,
“Yeah…it’s starting to come to me now…My partner was undergoing some
tests for
new equipment…and I thought about going out and relaxing for once. He decided to go with me, and I
definitely didn’t mind. I had to admit,
considering where he came from and where I come from, we actually
managed to
find a restaurant that we both liked.
We didn’t talk about work, for once…instead, stuff like old war
experiences, embarrassing childhood hijinks, Wilton Knight…and
something that
I’m surprised we have in common: stars
and constellations.”
She nodded and gestured with a hand to continue.
“We decided, on the spot, to go visit the
planetarium. I still remember us taking
turns at a telescope. It was pretty
fun, and I know he enjoyed himself, too.”
He then winced, his head suddenly hurting. He
grabbed it and shook it as if to fight
off something.
“No,” she said quietly, “Don’t fight it,
Michael…”
He
heard Millennia’s voice and the view changed
before him.
Michael
and the man that he saw as a father were
exiting the planetarium, which was closing for the night.
“My, how time seems to fly. I wasn’t aware
that it was close to 11,” he
replied, British accent bemused.
“I didn’t know either. Think we’ll have
trouble with the guards when we get back?”
“Oh, nonsense, Michael. Who would I get in
trouble with, the
Executive Director?”
That raised eyebrows, and the younger man asked,
“Was that a joke I heard out of you just now?”
“Come now, you must have been hearing things,”
he replied in a more reproachful tone.
“Oh, my mistake. We’d better get back
soon, though. I know Kitt and Bonnie will
be ready in the morning for us.”
“Along with your next case. But yes, we
should retire for the night.”
There was a quiet moment before Michael said,
“Devon…I know I’m a pain most of the time, especially at the
beginning…but—“
The older man shook his head and said quietly,
“I admit, I hated you at first…but that’s far behind us in the past,
and I
certainly don’t feel that way any longer.
You’re very dear to me, Michael, as a son…and I care for you
very much.”
There was a quiet smile between them, then Devon
squeezed Michael’s shoulder, followed by a firm pat, which was returned
by the
younger man.
The two of them started the walk across the
field to the area where Devon had parked his car. They
were three-fourths of the way there when Michael saw
something a short distance away from the vehicle…the shine of moonlight
on a
metal barrel, a faint outline…and the metal item was aimed right at
them.
No,
on him, he thought,
and he knew what was about to happen.
Michael said nothing and moved directly in front
of the older man.
“What—“ Devon was about to ask when he heard
sharp reports…three of them.
The younger man jerked three times, one for each
report…then began to collapse to the ground.
“Michael!” Devon exclaimed and caught him, then kneeled
slowly as he lowered them both to the ground.
He felt his hand, which was on the young man’s side, grow
warm…and wet.
“Michael, you’re hurt!“
“Couldn’t let him…shoot you.”
The Englishman examined him closely and
quickly. There were two bullet wounds
in the front, and one in the side, a short ways from the heart. Michael coughed a little and a small stream
of blood trickled down his mouth.
“No,” the younger man could hear his voice
become quiet and torn, “No.
Michael…God, no…why?!”
“They…didn’t hit you…”
Devon nearly told him to save his strength, yet
he knew that it would not have done any good.
He was dying, and this time there was no way to stop it.
The older man fully sat on the ground and held
Michael close to him, not caring if blood got onto his suit or not, and
simply
gazed into his face.
A single teardrop fell, landing on the younger
man’s face. Seeing it, he brushed it
away with a finger. A second later,
another fell, followed by more. Within
moments, they fell at a rate so fast that Devon gave up trying to stop
it.
Michael looked at him, even though his vision
was going, and slowly raised a hand to lightly touch the Englishman’s
face. The tears spilled down his
fingers.
“Devon…I’m…”
Devon heard something, felt a rush of breath
against his shoulder, and then nothing else.
The hand touching his face dropped to the ground, and the head
leaned
against him.
“Michael…?” his voice was quiet, yet torn as he
asked.
There was no answer.
As he shook the younger man gently, he called
out his name, his voice breaking more with every try…and that was when
he felt
the form in his arms begin to become cold.
Devon
opened his mouth and took a deep
breath…that cut into him and turned into a mournful sound.
Michael
and Millennia watched as Devon held the
body tightly, his sobs wracking him from deep within.
“That’s what happened,” he said, “A sniper,
someone that wanted him dead…I got in front of Devon and took the
bullets in
his place.”
“Yes,” she replied, “Two bullets entered in the
front, one lung apiece…and the third missed the heart, but hit a vital
organ. At least…it was quick.”
“Michael…” they heard amidst the weeping.
“And that word, ‘sorry’…I was trying to tell
Devon that I was sorry…because of—"
She nodded.
“Millennia…doesn’t the Grim Reaper, or whatever
his name really is handle the dead?”
“Usually,
Thanatos does,” she agreed, “But…you
and another are special cases. You’ve done well for humanity…
I’ve come here to take you and the other to
a place…a place that is at peace….and for you, it means no pain or
strife ever
again. Do not worry, the sniper will
face justice for this night.”
He
nodded, then asked, “I assume asking you to
reverse time is out of the question?”
“You’d be right,” she answered, shaking her
head, “I am not Chronos…and even I cannot change things at a whim.”
There was a
sigh before she said, “The course of time has a beginning point, a
stream, as well
as a place it empties into at the end…and while it can be diverted a
little in
one direction or another…it cannot become something else—” She then
looked in
front of her. “Oh!”
Michael turned from Millennia. His body
that was in Devon’s arms faded into
mist that eventually dissipated…and then the Englishman himself began
to become
misty, then transparent, then misty again…
A moment passed, the man was completely mist…and
then a split-second later, he changed.
Devon was not misty, but not transparent, either.
He was as solid as Michael and Millennia.
His eyes opened and he looked at them, puzzled
for a moment, before he recognized the younger man.
“Michael…?
Is that you, Michael?”
Michael looked at Millennia, who nodded. He
then hurried over to Devon and helped him
up.
The older man gazed at him then lightly touched
his
shoulder, disbelieving at first...then surprised him with a sudden
squeeze to
the shoulder that was returned.
“Yeah,
it’s me.
But…if you’re here and you see us…are you the other one she
mentioned?”
She nodded, “Apparently so.”
“How?”
Millennia looked bemused at them, then replied,
“Although most don’t believe it, it is possible for grief to bring it
about.”
“Yes…I was holding the body tight, weeping when
I felt something deep inside of me just…pop, or burst.”
Both nodded, and Millennia said, “It’s
time…Michael, you can explain it on the way.”
“Explain
what?”
“Where we’re going…and I think Wilton’s there,
too, waiting for us.”
By morning, all of the Foundation had heard the
news: At 11 PM, Michael Knight had
taken three gunshot wounds, all to vital organs, and died within
moments. When the body was found, Devon’s
held it in
a tight grip…one that was a bit hard to get loose, what with rigor
mortis. That
by itself brought pain to RC, Bonnie and Kitt…who had been close to
Michael, in
one way or another.
The
other half of the news staggered them, as
well as everyone else: Minutes after Michael
was killed, Devon Miles had died…and the cause of his death had been
puzzling. In the end, it was decided
that, as silly as it sounded, the grief had been rather deep, and his
heart
simply…stopped. Died of a broken heart,
as it was. Within a couple of days, the
sniper had been arrested, thanks to what was left of the Foundation.
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