Coming back...

Автор:  Anastasia

Открыть фик целиком в отдельном окне

She went through the long corridors, accelerating with each step. She knew he waited for her. And then she went out of the building to lighting. There he was, waiting for her in the shadowy trees. But he was not alone; there was a little girl at his side.

" I am glad you could come", he said.

" You know I am always ready to come when you need me", she answered and pointing at the child asked: " Who is it?"

Connor looked at her with his deep blue - gray eyes. His answer sounded like a shot: " My daughter."

"But.. I never thought you had any," Lindsay stammered.

" I thought you liked surprises", Connor took her hands in his: "Please, you have to defend this child. You know I have to go away any minute." "Please don't," Lindsay begged, " I need you, the team needs you."

And then it became dark. The wind cried in the branches of the trees, tearing at hair, bringing Connor away from her.

"Look up," Connor asked Lindsay. She watched the dark sky and could read the words written on it with big, glowing letters. The words she knew for a long time, but now she could read only the last ones: "I will be coming back…"

Connor looked at her for the last time: " Take care of yourself and don't forget Elisa". And then he was gone.

" Connor", tears ran down her cheeks, "don't go, don't leave me again, please". But only wind answered her with a mocking echo, repeating the plead. And then she heard a bell ringing.

Lindsay woke up, still sobbing. " It's only a nightmare," she tried to calm her thumping heart. But if it was only a dream, then why was she so nervous, feeling so bad. Why did Connor return after all these years? She thought she got over his death, she thought she has already used to living with Praeger. Then why the dream?

The ringing didn't cease, it became louder and louder and Lindsay realized it was the telephone. She picked up the receiver: "Donner".

"Hey, how is the little Lindsay carrying on without me?" a young, laughing voice asked.

Lindsay couldn't help smiling: "Marc, do you know what time it is now?" "No," he answered, "but I can check. Hey, guys, what time is it now?" Having got the answer he told Lindsay: "Four o'clock in the morning."

"I know that Marc and do you know why I asked you about the time?" she added patiently.

Marc shrugged: "Wait, I'll ask. Hey guys, why do you think Lindsay asked me to check the time?" he cried.

" Marc, it's not funny any more", Lindsay sighed. "Is there something urgent?"

"Yeah, how would you like to pack your things and leave with me for the week - end?"

Lindsay considered the situation. She would have called on Peter, telling him about her dream - she still had a bad feeling - but should she wake Peter's memories, pain and feelings of guilt? Had she the right to disturb his sleeping senses? And if not, wasn't it better to go with Marc, being in a company and making new acquaintances? Yes, going away was the best. Though she knew she can't always flee from her memories.

"Well, yes, I'd be delighted", she answered to the waiting friend.

"We're going to break away in half an hour", reported Marc. "So you'd better be ready, I'll fetch you. Bye. And Lindsay?"

"Yes", she wondered what he was going to ask. All seemed to be clear.

"I love you, darling", Marc said.

"Me too", she replied, feeling guilty. But she simply couldn't tell him she loved him. Not now. Not after the dream.

Marc thoughtfully put down the receiver. He felt that something was wrong with Lindsay. Always so gay and careless, she now sounded hurt and he could swear she had cried. It was none of his business to ask but it was Praeger's work, Marc was going to show him his real place.

Lindsay gathered the coffer, still disturbed. She took a bath, dressed, made her hair, surprisingly not feeling sleepy at all. And nevertheless the dream stayed, glued to her sub conscience. The ringing bell again disturbed her musings. She looked out of the window and saw Marc, waiting for her in his blue Jaguar. There was no time for looking back, the life went on. Lindsay sighed, locked the door and having come up to the car, returned the kiss.

"Hi, where are you going to take me?" Lindsay asked.

"I thought you liked surprises. You'll see for yourself."

Lindsay startled: "What have you said? Repeat the last sentence!"

Marc looked concerned at Lindsay: "Anything wrong? You sound so strange today."

"I am well, thanks," she replied, " just a bad dream" and wished it were the truth.

The place where Marc brought Lindsay was a little village in the mountains. Lindsay immediately liked the surroundings and telling Marc she went for a walk, strolled away heading the mountains.

It was a quiet, golden morning with sun shining through the branches and making the green leaves look like laces. She could hear only birds singing and was overcome with a sudden relief and feeling of safety. She was away from the noisy crowds, cities and away from her grief and her nightmare. Lindsay made her way through the forest, feeling as if lead by someone. And then on a lighting she stopped dead, frozen in place. She has already been there. Today. In her dream. And then the house came in sight. It was half destroyed and the trees took the possession of the walls, once proud and high and now covered with ivy. Trees stretched out their branches upon the roof and the walls and it seemed to Lindsay they stretched their claws to her, wanting to imprison her, to make her stay in this building forever. But was it really that spooky?

"Come on, Lindsay, you behave like a child, but you're not one, you're an investigator," she tried to sooth herself. But it didn't work. Uncertainty, this ancient fear took hold of her and without really knowing what she did, Lindsay turned and fled away, pushing the bushes as she ran by. She never looked back but she felt eyes upon her back, staring after her from the destroyed house, from the gloomy windows, from the past.

Peter tried to call Lindsay but failed. Nobody answered the phone. Only Lindsay's voice on a tape told Peter she would ring back as soon as possible. Peter tried the mobile phone but again nobody picked up the receiver. He began to feel worried. She would have never left the call unanswered. Perhaps it was better not to worry Lindsay with his musings? But whom else could he tell about his dream? Whom if not Lindsay? She was the only one whom Connor's death shook as much as him. It was better to talk to her than to stay alone with his thoughts. Even if Lindsay considered him partly guilty of the accident. It felt strange: now, after three years past was swiftly returning, making Peter uncertain and revealing the facts in his mind he thought were hidden forever. He sighed and dialed again Lindsay's number.

Marc was just finishing to unpack his coffer as Lindsay burst through the door. He immediately looked up: " Anything wrong?".

This time he was really worried. Lindsay was pale, hard breathing and seemed to be frightened.

"Don't say this time you're alright. I know very well, that something happened. What?" Marc took her hands. "Come on, Lindsay, you know you can trust me."

"Marc," Lindsay stammered, "it's really nothing serious. It's just I have seen a dream tonight and as I walked in the woods here I have seen a house from my dream. There must be something in it."

Marc's face lightened up: "Ah, you mean the Old House. It's a ruin, Lindsay, nothing to feel uneasy about. There are a couple of legends about it but none is true. I'm a skeptic, you know and I am sure you simply haven't slept well. Which is my fault," he added smiling. "Come along, Lindsay, let's meet my friends."

Lindsay let her being taken to a house nearby where she made acquaintance to young men and women. They were very friendly but Lindsay, usually so gay and open - hearted, still felt strange and so everyone seemed suspicious to her. She sat down at a table in the corner of the room and watched the dancing pairs: "It's silly to behave like this and to spoil my week - end", she said out loud, "It was just a dream." "Are you sure?" asked a voice behind her. It was so sudden that Lindsay span around not knowing who hid behind her back.

"Why were you eavesdropping?" she asked with a shaking voice.

"I wasn't. You have said the last words out loud my child", it was an old woman speaking.

"What are you going to tell me?" Lindsay's curiosity was woken up and she forgot at once the uneasiness and inexplicable fear she had before. "Follow me," and with this words the old woman left the room and went out into the soft darkness of the night. "I know what you're looking for, my child", she added, making her way to a bank near the entrance.

"How did you find me? Who are you?" Lindsay felt magnetized by the mysterious woman.