Standard Boring Disclaimer: All "recognizable" characters belong to Marvel; all other characters (including some equally recognizable ones, in certain circles) belong to Tapestry (malfam@inlink.com). No money is being made and no harm is meant. Do not archive without my permission. There's a bit of bad language and a nasty injury or two, but nothing TOO bad I don't think. At always, e-mail is highly appreciated (and squirreled away for future gleeful re-reading) at kielle@subreality.com.

More Personal Disclaimer & Explanation: This...is an odd piece. It is a crossover between "It's Always Darkest..." (story #3 of the Dawn Arc by Tapestry) and "Fading Embers," an alternate to "First Contact" also written by Tapestry. I know that sounds involved, but honestly, it isn't. People who love the Dawn stories should get a kick out of this, I hope; anyone who doesn't should still be able to get the gist. I explain a lot. ;) To sum up: Dawn Embers is a very unlucky mutant teenager who's not your typical "fangirl who joins GenX." Unpleasant things happen to her. Lots of them. And it's even worse for her alternate self Ember, who had th e misfortune to fall into Sinister's clutches...

As of this posting the original "Fading Embers" is still a work in progress, and I have no idea what will actually happen to Ember and her versionof GenX. This is merely my own twisted idea, and has no bearing on the actual outcome of Tapestry's tale. Call it a "what if," written as a belated Christmas present after sufficient mass badgering in the #fictalk room late one Friday night. And people say that nothing ever gets accomplished at those chats. ;)

Other Notes: The fact that some characters that I'm notoriously known to be fond of happen to be involved in this mess is sheer coincidence, I honestly swear. But I won't deny that it was fun to write them again! The rest of the various Dawn arcs and alternate realities can be dug up right here at http://home.att.net/~lubakmetyk/others.htm#tapestry. Beware: thick accents ahead...

Running. And running. And running.

She shouldn't have been running at all. She should have stayed to fight,to protect the people who have taken her in when they could have locked her up and thrown away the key. She should have stayed. After all, it was her fault that THEY were here in the first place...her fault that her friends, her only friends in the world, were dying...

She shook her head sharply at that, almost stumbling. Her arms tightened convulsively on the blanket-wrapped package, hugging it closer to her body. No. No, she refused to believe that. They wouldn't have been so stupid as to stay and fight. They had to be retreating in the other direction -- they had to leave! That was the whole reason for her running away in the first place! To lead the enemy away...

Of its own accord, her mind flashed back to the events of a few moments before. The school had been unexpectedly plunged into darkness -- all of the students had been gathered in twos and threes in the main lobby, some in pajamas and yawning, some halfway into their uniforms and staring about warily in the pulsing glow from Chamber's unwrapped chest. Ms. Frost had arrived in a rush, barking something about getting to the garage...

Then every window had crashed inward and all hell had broken loose.

She remembered screaming, half in surprised fear and half in disbelieving rage as she came face to face with the fate she'd been avoiding for so many months. She'd tried to jump for the throat of the nearest enemy as he knocked Paige to the ground.

She hadn't made it.

As she ran through the midnight forest now, she closed her eyes briefly, swallowing down her rising gorge. Once again, she forced the following memory away: the sudden tremendous jerk which had nearly pulled her off of her feet, the horrible tearing wrenching PAIN--

She blocked that off, and kept running through the darkness, her bare feet torn and bruised but barely felt. The bundle was warm in her arms. The next thing she could remember from before, after the blast of sheeting agony -- and how much later had that been? she couldn't recall, couldn't have been more than a few seconds -- was Angelo pulling her away by her wrist as Penance tore into her attacker to buy her a few more seconds. For what?

"This!" Angelo had shouted hoarsely into her ear over the splintering pulsing crunching battle which raged around them, spilling out onto the front porch as Generation X desperately attempted to regroup and escape. The fliers were in the air but they couldn't carry everyone...

She remembered Angelo thrusting the bundle into her arms. She must have dropped it when-- She mentally shied away from the pain again. It was a miracle that Skin had caught the little knot of blankets before it had hit the floor. "Take it! Get away from here! You know what they want, chica! Go!"

And she'd clutched the bundle tight, and she'd run away.

It occurred to her now, through her haze, that Angelo would not have sent her away like a Judas goat, to die alone in the woods. He simply must have not noticed her injuries. He must have thought that all she had to do was dash out into the open, spread her wings, and fly away to safety.

She would have.

If she'd still had two wings to spread.

The feathered stump throbbed with every step, shrieking agony through her back which was echoed by a dull counterpoint pulse of pain between her thighs, making it almost impossible for her to breathe. She kept telling herself that it wasn't real, it wasn't real, IT WASN'T REAL -- her wings were merely an extension of her mind, a psionic wish pulled into solid reality by the power of her thoughts alone. They weren't real. She should have been able to retract them, make them go away, make the pain go away...but for some reason she couldn't. The good wing fluttered uselessly behind her, catching on every branch, leaving a trail of bloody feathers that even a child could follow...a trail that THEY couldn't possibly miss.

She skidded to a halt in a clearing, struggling to catch her breath, to quiet her gasps so that she could listen intently to the still forest around her. If she'd been hoping against hope that she'd out-distanced her pursuit, she would have been disappointed. As it was, she'd held no such hope; she merely nodded resignedly to herself as twigs snapped in the near distance. She had no time left -- nowhere to run -- and no strength to run even if there had been a sanctuary open to accept her.

There was only one thing left to do, really.

Struggling for a moment of calm and focus, she reached down into herself,for that core of power she'd never completely understood. Reached...and reached...and felt herself falling short, her figurative fingers scrabbling hopelessly for purchase...

Her heart lurched with shock as the ghostly touch of another psion -- that had to be it, but who? so familiar, but not any of her friends from the school -- fell lightly but surely upon her own failing grasp, guiding her that extra inch to--

Contact!

Her power surged within her like a freed lioness, snaking out and catching...something. A momentary glimpse of a stranger rose behind her eyelids, a beautiful girl her own age with the straight blonde hair of an angel and the eyes of a demon. The girl seemed about to say something...

Shivering, she blinked her own eyes open and the image was gone, but the power remained. As leaves rustled at the edge of the clearing on all four sides, she made a dramatic gesture with her free arm without knowing exactly why or what she was doing, only that the glowing disc which was now flowering open before her at her summons would save her.

Save them both.

She looked briefly down into the blanket-wrapped bundle, into the infant's wide blue eyes. The reason for her current lack of strength, the reason for the attack upon the school. No matter. It was not the baby's fault. She would give anything to save her newborn daughter.

As the disc reached full size within two heartbeats, she threw herself forward, into the light--

A strong hand closed around her throat, crushing her windpipe and jerking her to a halt only inches from sanctuary.

Without hesitation, she released her death grip on the child, letting her tumble through the shining portal. An instant later it winked out, severing the baby's terrified wail and plunging the clearing into a leafy midnight gloom once more.

The hand gripping her by the neck, the same hand which had torn off her left wing bare minutes before, now yanked her clear off of her feet and gave her a hard, furious shake. Arclight's harsh voice tore into the darkness like a hacksaw: "What have you DONE, you little bitch?!"

Unable to breathe, blood running down her back and legs, Dawn Embers merely smiled weakly and passed out.