Disclaimers: One of them isn't mine.  You'll know the one that Rysher: Panzer/Davies owns when you get to him.  No money made, no infringement intended.  Written for the Fall Holiday HL Lyric Wheel.  Lyrics courtesy of Emby Quinn and found at the end.
Rated:  PG-13 for a messy fight & death.

This Mortal Coil

The last pulses of lightning threw Jenny onto her side on the pavement again.  Her knees and one hand were scraped and bleeding from fighting partway up during the last lull; now her shoulder and ribs ached from this latest landing.  She didn't drop the sword, though.  She might never be able to let go of the damn thing again.

Ozone filled the air, filled her lungs, burned in her nostrils.  Tears were streaming from her eyes, she needed to wipe her nose, and blood was dripping off her left leg and sizzling under the sparks stitching flesh together again.  She could barely see the remaining denim for the blood and sparks.  She didn't really want to look.

Even more, though, Jenny didn't want to look at the green-clad figure in front of her, the one with the shirt here and the hat -- and head -- over....

She thought it anyway and managed to turn over and get a hand under herself before she threw up everything she'd had for dinner and probably all her meals for the last three days.  Jenny scrabbled away from the mess she'd made -- Added to? -- and lay there, stomach muscles quivering and the rest of her starting to shiver now as well.

She swallowed hard and regretted it, then spat the worst of the taste out of her mouth and wished desperately for water or a can of Coke.  She needed to get up.  She needed to find a way to carry this sword home without being stopped by the cops, had to keep it to use against the next lunatic who made her head hurt and came for her with a blade, and she needed to calm down enough to do... anything.

It's me thinking, not... him.  I'm the one breathing.  Damn it, breathe.  Slow.  In and hold.  Out and hold.  Again.  She held onto that desperately, feeling her heart slow its pounding against her ribs.  Calm began to settle into her mind -- thin, and brittle, and easily shattered, she suspected, but... better.  Thank God.

Her hand was starting to ache around the hilt of the sword, and her clothes were sticky with blood and mud and worse things.  The air... reeked.  Ozone had been a clean scent compared to this.  Blood and bowels, she decided, and shivered again.  Time to get up and get out.

The brick wall scraped her hand and stained her shirt and vest, but they were already a lost cause.  Her boots were filthy, too, but they'd clean more easily.  "At least it's Halloween.  Pirates are supposed to look scruffy," she muttered to herself, trying to hold onto some semblance of composure.  "Um.  I haven't left any fingerprints on him, and my hair's mostly under the bandana...."

Jenny racked her brain for any other useful details from all the law and order shows and forensics specials, but all she could think of was fingerprints and DNA tests from hair or blood and she couldn't do anything about those anyway.

"I can't leave this either," she realized.  The police would want the murder weapon -- and wasn't it supposed to be damn near impossible to get all the blood out? -- but she needed the sword.  It was the only thing that had stopped him permanently.  At least, she thought the two by four should have slowed him down longer, and when she'd thrown the rock at him, his face had healed while she watched.  He'd laughed at her, too.

Jenny shivered, hand tightening convulsively around the sword she'd taken out of his hand.  Who'd have thought years of pitching softball would keep her alive?  A brick to the stomach and he'd laid open his own leg and gut when he doubled over around his sword.  All she'd meant to do was get the blade away from him before he used it on her again, but he'd screamed when she yanked it away, and she'd flinched and it cut her leg open too.  She hadn't thought it would be so heavy.  Jenny tried not to think about what might have gotten under her newly healed skin.  Hopefully, the magic she'd acquired understood about germs and disease.

But he'd kept coming for her, holding his guts in with one hand, snarling about disemboweling her and calling her a coward who couldn't even die well, and she'd... she'd just lost it.  Jenny remembered panicky thoughts about burning witches, and silver for werewolves, and she didn't have any garlic.  Which had reminded her that you could kill vampires by taking the head off, and really, that should kill anyone, even a lunatic who could go from exposed bones and teeth to unmarked flesh in seconds.

Thinking that took a stretch of forever that still didn't let him get close enough to grab her... or get his guts back in.  His snarl from a bare yard away had goaded her into motion, though.  She'd swung the blade the way she'd swing a shovel to cut the head off a snake, and it took three tries to get his head completely off, but he didn't start healing from that.  Then the lightning gathered... and came after her.

Jenny shuddered again and forced herself to breathe steadily until her heart slowed back down, then began looking around the alley, determinedly not looking too close to the body.  Dry-retching hurt and she'd hurt enough already tonight.

"No garbage cans.  No pallets.  No tarps.  Oh, God, how do I hide this?  Not even on Halloween in a pirate costume can I walk down a street carrying a sword."  Jenny paused.  "Wait.  Neither could he."

New pain spiked through her head, sharp and edged as the sword she had yet to put down.  She cried out some inarticulate syllable and heard a new voice say, "What were you going to do with that, anyway?"

She forced herself upright, held the sword in front of her, even if it was wobbling.  "What do you want?"

Her eyes watered as she tried to focus on the new man walking towards her.  He had both gloved hands out and conspicuously empty, but that wasn't very reassuring.  He was tall with dark hair, wearing a black leather jacket, black leather gloves, dark jeans, dark boots, and a grin that made her wonder if sharks had senses of humor.  "Me?  I was wondering what you're going to do now."  He shrugged.  "Consider me the cat curiosity hasn't killed.  Besides.  You look scared."

"I'm not frightened anymore and I'm not going to run."  Jenny forced the words out, ignoring the way her gut clenched.  Her arms shook from the tension of her grip on the hilt, and she wrapped her left hand over her right to try and hold the blade steady.  Light kept sparking along the steel in time with her quivering muscles, though.

He ignored her blade (although he didn't move forward any farther) and glanced down -- Jenny made herself watch him rather than look at it again -- then shook his head, disgusted.  "You, Robin Hood?  Pathetic.  Johnny would have pounded your head into the ground if he caught you wearing that costume."  He looked back up at her, then frowned.  "New sword?"

"What?"   That wasn't a question she'd expected.  She stared at him, trying to figure out what he was playing at and when he'd pull out a blade.  For that matter, why didn't any of them have guns?

"Uh-huh."  He looked her over more carefully now, smile fading to a watchful blankness.  "And you didn't know there's a church two blocks from here."

Jenny blinked in surprise.  Why was he asking about that?  "Of course St. Michael's is two blocks from here," she finally pointed out.  "What, you thought someone stole a cathedral?"

Now he was frowning.  "Oh, great."  He turned his head then.  "Sirens, doll.  Come on."  He stepped past her carefully, watching to see what she'd do with the sword, then knelt next to the--  Jenny quit watching, swallowing hard against nausea, and instead backed towards the street, not looking down.

The stranger stood up with a clatter and offered her a bundle of dark fabric.

"His coat?"  Jenny shuddered.  "You took his--"

"Put the sword up," the stranger ordered, "and put the coat on.  You're covered in blood and we've got kids trick-or-treating all over the place.  They don't need to see your jeans."

That was the first sensible thing Jenny had heard him say yet, so she took the coat, trying not to cringe at the idea of wearing it.  It didn't smell of blood, and she thought she vaguely remembered the stalker dropping it from his off hand after he'd tangled her stick in it.  She tried wrapping the blade in it, and the new man groaned.

"No, doll, like this."  He held the coat open -- and when had she let him get that close! -- and Jenny realized there was a case sort of thing built in.  "That's the sheath.  Put the blade up.  We'll clean everything later.  When it's safe, all right?  Come on.  If you don't get a move on, the cops are going to be here and I'm not getting arrested, and I don't know your name to bail you out."

"Jenny."  The word came out automatically as she stuffed the sword into place.

"Great.  Come on."  He wrapped the coat around her shoulders -- heavy now with the sword in it -- and headed to the sidewalk.  "Come on.  Run."

That run ranked just after her near-death as the worst part of the night.

Whoever he was -- and she hadn't heard a name yet -- he kept a firm grip on her arm and he only stopped when she couldn't breathe anymore.  He led her down a street, into another alley Jenny had barely known was there, between two stores, back down a different street, into another alley... they ended up jogging down a grass-overgrown railroad track in one of the older neighborhoods near the college.

He'd kept them in shadows for most of it, and the sound of the sirens had faded away as they ran, but Jenny finally doubled over, hands braced on her thighs, wheezing and panting as she tried to catch her breath.  The stranger, annoyingly enough, was barely winded.  He just stood there and waited for her.

"Who are you?"

He grinned at her.  "Cory.  Nice to meet you."

"You helped me," Jenny said incredulously.  "Why?"

Cory frowned at her.  "Uh-huh.  Well, that explains a few things.  How many people have you been getting headaches from?  Not counting the corpse back there," he added.  "Since he's not a problem any more."

Jenny shuddered and Cory said hastily, "Hey, hey, don't go throwing up again.  Come on.  You did pretty well there."

"You... he...."  Jenny gave up and let her legs give out from under her.  The grass was cold and wet with the early dew and she didn't care.  She curled up around the tears and the sobs and the shakes, arms wrapped around herself and flinching away from the sword in her stolen coat whose owner would never need it again....

A warm hand was petting her hair when she could think again.  "Gotta love women," Cory said, sounding completely serious.  "Wait until it's safe, then fall apart and get it over with.  You're going to go far.  Here."  He handed her a handkerchief.

Jenny sniffed, realized she couldn't breathe through her nose anymore, and blew.  She wiped her eyes on the back of her sleeve, and wadded up the handkerchief.  "Thanks."  Her voice trembled but her muscles were trembling too, so that was probably fair.  "Oh, God.  I killed him."

Cory snorted.  "You did a nice thorough job of it, too.  Cheer up.  He'd have done worse to you.  Dell Martin started out as a runner for the Mob, and probably a knee-breaker, too, but he'd taken to rape.  Amanda's been wanting a chance at his head for years now."

"You...,"  Jenny paused, then froze.  "You knew him?"

Cory nodded, settling more comfortably onto the grass.  "I was looking for him when he found you."

"You were--  To kill him?"  The shivers were letting up a little, although the casual tone from Cory wasn't really reassuring her.

"He hurt kids."  That seemed to be his entire answer, because Cory dropped the subject to dig through his pockets.  He pulled out with a cell phone and a Snickers bar and held out the candy.  "Here.  You've had a rough night."

"I.  He."  Jenny started over, scared and chilled and suddenly exhausted.  "I killed him and you're giving me chocolate?"

"He got the trick, you get the treat."  Cory eyed her, then said more gently, "Sugar's good for shock, pretty Jenny-O.  It's just chocolate.  Eat it."

Jenny stared at him and nearly jumped out of her skin when an owl ghosted through the clearing, stooping to catch some struggling thing and flap off with it, hooting triumphantly.  She opened her mouth, but words weren't coming, and the candy was still in its wrapper, and she was shaking, so she tore off the plastic and ate the candy, grateful that something was still familiar.  Chocolate, peanuts, caramel... she knew this much, at least.

She sat there, counting her breaths and trying not to count her pounding heartbeats, and over those she heard Cory talking to someone.  Jenny looked up just enough to be sure he was on the phone and went back to ignoring him.  She didn't know any Matthew who'd answer a call after nine on Halloween and after a short time Cory wasn't speaking English anyway.

The feel of his hand rubbing her back in long, firm strokes from shoulders to waist and back eventually penetrated her fog.

"Hey, Jenny-O.  Think you can walk now?"

"Um." Jenny shook her head to wake up, not in denial, then looked up.  Her night vision had sharpened while she'd been sitting there.  Cory was worth looking at if you liked dark haired, mischievous men.  He didn't look nearly as dangerous as he had.  Kind of a pity, really, but she thought she'd stick to dangerous redheads instead.  Harder to find, so harder to get into trouble with. She blinked again and hoped she hadn't said any of that.

Cory was still watching her steadily, so probably not.  "Yes. I can walk home.  Thanks for... well, everything."

"Home."  Cory eyed her, then pointed out, "You don't know how to use that sword."

"No, but I know where the SCA practices on weekends."  She thought about it and added, "And if I sign up for karate next term I can use it for my phys ed requirements."

Cory said slowly, "The headaches you were getting... are warning signals."  Being right about that cheered her up momentarily, but her enthusiasm faded away again as he continued, "But other immortals get the same warning that you're there.  That's how they found you.  How many besides Dell, Jenny-O?"

Jenny shivered.  "Um.  I don't know?  At least one woman.  She was tall, sort of reddish-brown hair, and in a dark blue coat... oh."  Her voice felt small as she huddled into the coat trying to make herself smaller.  "She was carrying a sword, wasn't she?"

"Probably," Cory said dryly.  "Did she come after you?"

Jenny shook her head.  "Chemistry had just gotten out.  There were fifty of us, easily.  She didn't... didn't know who to look for."  Under Cory's inquisitive stare, she admitted, "I saw her on campus every couple days though.  She was... she was looking for me.  Wasn't she?"

Cory nodded.  "Sounds like it.  Anyone else?"

"I don't... you're not going to believe me," she said finally.  "I don't know if I believe me."

"Try me," Cory suggested, chin propped on his fist and elbow propped on a knee.  "Male or female?"

"A boy," Jenny said finally.  "Blond, about, um, twelve?  Fourteen?  He... he was in the student union yesterday and followed me across campus, but... I think he had a knife in his coat.  I saw metal when he turned."  She looked up, hesitant.  "Was I just paranoid?"

Cory was frowning, though, his mouth a thin, angry line.  "Kind of cute, in a hellion sort of way?"

Jenny nodded.  "Yes.  Jeans and a jacket... kind of scruffy-looking, and acting like he was lost.  He looked like some middle school kid, but... he shouldn't have been there, and he made my head hurt, and... you mean I'm right?  He had a knife?"

Cory snorted.  "That or an axe, knowing that little bastard.  His name's Kenny, and he likes to get people to trust him so he can kill them when they turn their backs.  He may not be your problem, though, Jenny-wren.  Look.  You killed a man tonight.  Was that just reflex or do you want to live?"

Jenny choked on her first answer, then forced out, "Yes.  I want to live.  They're trying to kill me?  Why?"

"Lots of reasons, none of them very good."  Cory stood up.  "Come on.  You need to get some sleep and get cleaned up; I have a hotel room with two beds and a lot of hot water.  In the morning I'll find you some clean clothes and we'll come up with a story to withdraw you from college."

"Withdraw me from--"  Jenny stopped short.  "Oh.  There's a dead man in an alley, and there was... lightning, a lot of it.  They've found him by now and I killed him."

"And took the murder weapon," Cory agreed.  "And people are trying to kill you and you don't know how to use that sword.  Why did you cut his head off?"

"Because rocks and two by fours hadn't worked, and I didn't have any silver bullets."  Jenny blurted it out and watched, shocked, as Cory nearly fell over laughing.  "What?  It worked!"

Cory grinned at her from his careless sprawl on the grass.  "It sure as hell did.  Nice work.  Come on.  Tonight, shower and sleep.  Tomorrow, breakfast and story and clean clothes and we pack you up.  Tomorrow night, I get us on the road so you can meet Matthew and we can find you a teacher."  Cory shook his head, grinning.  "He's already wondering if I'm bringing him a trick or a treat."

Jenny shivered and rubbed her hands on her jeans, trying to ignore the tacky, drying blood on her left thigh.  "So which am I?"

"Neither."  Cory sobered a little, and Jenny winced to have sounded so needy and so young.  He winked at her.  "But if it was Guy Fawkes Day he'd check me for firecrackers.  Maybe we should pick some up on the way.  Just so he can find them and quit worrying."

Figuring that statement out left Jenny giggling and nicely distracted from her problems, as she suspected Cory had intended.  And maybe he wasn't safe... but nothing much else was right now.  She'd think about it all over breakfast, after she'd had some sleep.

But she'd sleep with the coat, and the sword, on the bed next to her.  Just in case.

~~~ finis ~~~

Notes, Comments, Commentary:

Title taken from Hamlet's 'To be or not to be' soliloquy, namely:

"To die, to sleep;
To sleep, perchance to dream.  Ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause."

Cory Raines is from "Money No Object," in fifth season, and was played by Nick Lea of X-Files fame.  Matthew is Matthew McCormick, from "Manhunt," also in fifth season and played by Eric McCormack of Lonesome Dove:  The Outlaw Years and Will & Grace.  Per the Watcher CD, Matthew taught Cory; per that same source, Cory is the source of a lot of the Robin Hood legends.  No wonder he resented a strange immortal dressing up in Lincoln green.

You can comment on this in my LJ here.

Lovely graphics courtesy of Boogie Jack.