Dannell's wonderful story inspired me to get off my rear. :)

Disclaimer. No profit intended. No disrespect intended. The characters belong to DC/Time Warner/AOL. It's their galaxy.

"No, Shady! It can't have you. Get back!"

Tasmia Mallor, the heroine known as Shadow Lass, opened her eyes in surprise at this outburst from her lover and teammate, Mon-El. She had been feeling disoriented but the intensity of his outburst shook her. She knew he had a temper, but rarely was it directed towards her. Briefly she felt several emotions at once--concern, surprise and irritation.

Shadow Lass turned her eyes to what Mon-El stared at wildly. Her eyes adjusted to see blood-crimson tendrils snaking towards him. She felt a sense of hunger and desire emanating from the presence. The tendrils seemed to grow from a vortex that appeared in front of them. How did they get here? She could not remember.

"Mon--be careful. Let me use my power to try to confuse it." She thought he grunted his assent, and then she let the power flow through her pores. A near-tangible darkness surrounded the seething hunger. Lar backed away from the seeming threat, and reached back for her hand.

Tasmia was ready to grasp his hand when she felt a strangely familiar, irresistible pull from the crimson tendrils. Her darkness seemed to nurture it. She felt the vortex seductively call to her. This hunger wanted all of her.

"Back, Tasmia. Dammit--It can't have you. Take me!" Lar tried to offer himself to the hungry tendrils but they did not want him. They wanted the their chosen prize. Tasmia unconsciously slipped around Mon-El. A single tendril nearly reached her ankle.

"Please, Tasmia. Don't go. I need you here, with me." Those words made her pause. They seemed to echo inside of her. She had heard them before, hadn't she? Or would she hear them in the future? Need. She needed Lar. He did not need her. She was just in the way. The crimson voice told her so. It loved her. It wanted all of her. Mon-El did not, the hunger said.

Mon-El sensed that his words momentarily weakened the pull the vortex had on his beloved. He, too, felt a vague sense of near familiarity. Somehow, somewhere, an irresistible void wanted to consume them. When, he could not remember. But he and Tasmia had stayed together until the end, fighting the good fight. At the end they went to their rest. There was no rest offered from this threat. This one wanted only Tasmia--it wanted her soul.

"Don't go, Tasmia. We'll get you medical attention." Again, familiar words. "You are loved. You have friends. Family. I'll take care of you. I love you, Tasmia. I need you. I'll never leave you again." These words were new. A glimpse of a memory stirred in Mon-El. It seemed that similar battles had occurred time and time again with them. Some different. Some were conflicts of reality. This was a contest for his love's sanity.

Tasmia felt so conflicted. Why was she here? Did Mon-El really love her? She knew in her heart it was true, but the void loved her, too. Its despair would consume her and would not let her go. Not like Mon-El, said the hunger. He will leave you. He will love others. Maybe he will never love you. I will never leave you. She was a step away from walking into her darkness, and she hesitated.

Mon-El used that moment to his advantage. Last time he tried to separate her from this threat. This time, if he had to, he would go with her. He reached for her hand again, this time grasping it. "Tasmia, Love, I am here. It can't have you--not without me. You walked with me through my despair. I can't let you go alone on yours. I promise you I will come with you, but let's wait a while. Let's see if we can't try something else, first. You have my word, if this does not work, I'll come back with you."

Tasmia numbly nodded. She gave his hand the barest squeeze and stopped. She lifted the veil of darkness to see...nothing. She turned to Mon-El and felt herself fading away...

Tasmia's body felt heavy and her closed eyes winced against the bright lights. Her mouth was parched. She was lying down. Where was she? Tasmia worked to open her eyes and began to hear voices. "Thank the stars! Oh, Shady! Don't you leave me like that again." Tasmia turned her head to the voice and struggled to open heavy-lidded eyes. Mon-El was beside her, holding her hand. He looked so tired. "Welcome back, my love." Beside him were Dr. Gym'll, Brainaic 5, and Saturn Girl. They all looked tired and very, very satisfied.

"Where am I?" She was surprised at the weakness of her voice. Mon-El saw the confusion in her eyes. "We're on Medicus One, love. A week ago you had a seizure and became catatonic."

Saturn Girl spoke up. "I'm sorry to enter your mind without your permission, Shady, but we did not know what else to do. I found you facing a pull, of what Freudians might call the 'id', which was trying to pull you, while in your catatonic state, into an increasingly deepening clinical depression with psychosis. Your neurotransmitter activity became very abnormal.

"We think your concern over Lar during the strain of the last few years, coupled with the" ~shudder~ "attacks from a rogue telepath who had been in your recent vicinity lead to the breakdown. This telepath, Mantor Femok, liked to place what we could call mental viruses into random minds he could touch. This virus acted upon your very understandable fatigue you've been through.

"We tried various means of fighting it. I tried to project myself into your mind to help you, but you did not recognize me. The only one you could recognize was Mon-El. I enabled him to appear in your mind to help you battle the psychosis."

"It seemed so real."

"It was real, Tasmia. It has been said that perception creates reality. The battle was real. As was your victory," replied Imra.

"Our victory," Tasmia said weakly. "Yet I don't feel like it's over. Why did it happen now, when things are going so well?"

"Because now your subconscious may be processing material it buried or did not confront during stressful times. You're right, Tasmia, it's not over. You've been through a lot of strain and you have been mentally violated. As your friend and teammate, I ask you to consider seeing a therapist. Trust me. It will make you stronger." Imra hugged Tasmia and left. They were not quite friends but both loved Mon-El in their own ways and honored each other for it.

"Well, now, young lady. You need your rest. You may have been catatonic but you did not get proper sleep. I WILL check to make sure you are obeying my instructions. Be sure that she does, young man." With that, Dr. Gym'll also left the room.

"Yes, sir," replied Mon-El. Even one of the strongest men in the galaxy was no match for a stubborn, concerned physician.

"Oh, Tasmia. I am so sorry for what I've put you through." Mon-El, Lar Gand of Daxam, kissed the hand he held--the one with the familiar wedding band that capped Tasmia's sacrificed pinkie. "I don't know what I would have done without you."

"You would have found me, eventually," she said with a slight smile. "Lar, did some of that seem familiar to you?"

"Yes, Shady. Some of it, like some of the words, felt timeless. Like we have loved before and have faced a void before. And we may again, together."

"As long as it's together, I'm not worried."

"No more worries for you tonight, Shady, my love. Sleep, and I will watch over you. I'll take care of you."

"I believe you, love. Thank you." Lar bent down to kiss her and she closed her eyes. Satisfied, he pulled up a chair next to her and held her hand, not letting go until she opened her eyes again.