Rage Against the Dying Light (1/1)
By Meredith Bronwen Mallory
Mallorys-girl@cinci.rr.com
-----------------------------------------------

    She was dead. 
That sad, lonely, cold fact lay like a pawl over the three men that stood
aside the open casket in the empty, draft filled church on January morning.
Quinn Mallory stood beside his friends, the weight of his heart almost
suffocating as it hung like a stone in his chest. Dead. No, it couldn't be,
not their beautiful, shining Wade who had made each slide a little easier.
Not their angel. Not Wade.  Then he looked down, and his blue eyes
unwillingly feasted on the pale shell of Wade Welles. And he knew it was
true.

    "Does some one want to say something?" he asked of his companions, near
tears.
"I do," Rembrandt said, moving forward to place his hand on the coffin. "Hey
sweetheart," he spoke to her, to her shell, "I just wanted you to know, that
you were just... wonderful. I've never met a more kind, more caring person
than you. You helped us all cope with sliding. You were amazing..."

    *** "You're amazing, did you know that?" Quinn said as he looked up at
Wade from where he was leaning up against the counter. He looked up into her
brown eyes and knew in that instant that he'd passed so much up. Sure, she
was his friend, his best bud, but there was so much more there. Wade
suddenly, and surprisingly, a woman. A real and beautiful woman who deserved
the best. A woman Quinn suddenly found himself wanting and.... Maybe even
loving??
    "There's a lot of things you don't know about me," Wade replied with a
measure of sadness hidden in her tone.
    "Oh, yeah?" he challenged, wanting to lighten her mood, "like what?" Her
lips inched closer to his, and he realized his own were straining to meet at
that half way point. It was like some one had taken a sledge hammer to their
walls and broken the bricks down. There was only Wade, and the end of the
world. Then she turned away. ***

    Quinn realized Remmy had stepped back, tears in his eyes, head bowed.
Now the Professor came forward, so unlike the man Quinn knew. The Professor
was near tears as well.
    "Ms. Welles...," the Professor stopped, "Wade," he began again, "You were
a treasured member of our group. We will miss you sorely. We are so very
sorry to see you go..."

    *** "He won't let me go, Quinn. He won't let me go," her voice was no
more than a whisper.
    "Hang on Wade," he said, willing her to live, willing his strength and
energy to her, as if it could travel through the telephone wire and enter
her dying body. 
    "No, listen," her words hushed him, "You get home, tell my mother... don't
wanna... couldn't...." the phone dropped.
    "WADE!!!" Rage filled Quinn. It possessed his body, became one with his
soul, it ran through his veins in the place of his blood and filled his
mouth with vile. He was the rage, rage against the man who had done this to
Wade, HIS Wade. Derek Bond would pay, Quinn vowed, he would pay. ***

    *** "You," Quinn said as he took Wade into his arms, holding her and the
blanket that was wrapped around her, close. He was afraid she would vanish
if he let  her go, "Scared the crap out of me." ***

    The others were looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to say
something. His feet felt like they were made of lead as he walked the mile,
or so it seemed, to her coffin. His hand reached in to touch her cheek. It
was cold.
    "I'm sorry," he whispered so low that no one else could hear it, "I
loved you... I still do."

----

    Later that after noon, Rembrandt and the Professor stood at the shuttle
dock. The world they'd landed on, the world that had claimed Wade's life,
was very high-tech. Her body, in it's coffin, would be placed in a long
crystal tube and sent slowly spiraling into the center of the Earth. It was
custom- a grand one, but custom all the same.
    "Where's Quinn?" Remmy asked as the two minute count down began. He
gazed out at the gleaming sliver of silver that held all that remained of
Wade.
    "I can't venture to say, Mr. Brown," the other man replied, "he gave me
the timer and said he had something he needed to do."
    "Alright." Remmy said, his eyes returning to the rocket. Something was
bothering him, something wasn't quite right. Billows of steam rose around
the silver coffin as it prepared to descend, but Rembrandt wanted to scream
at them, to tell them to stop, but he didn't know why. He wished Quinn would
hurry up.

----

    It was getting warmer, and his lungs labored with each breath, but it
didn't matter. The coffin lurched as it plunged through the lava-filled
mantle of Earth. He couldn't feel his fingers, the ones he now tangled in
Wade's hair as he held her body close and waited for the warmth of the their
Mother to embrace them both.