((Remarkably, Moira/White Sands does not have a theme song (suggestions are welcome). Instead, I'm giving you one of my many alter-egos, Victor Morgan, AKA Victory X, and Shinedown - .45. I must include a disclaimer as this story includes painful aspects of military life, and may cause discomfort to some people. I apologize in advance.))
Send away for a priceless gift
One not subtle, one not on the list
"I do."
"I do."
Her smile was radiant, outshining even the brilliant white of her gown. Victor leaned down and kissed Moira's lips gently, and a resounding cry went up from the assembled airmen. The marriage of their favorite commanders had been anticipated with something akin to impatience, and both squadrons had turned out en masse for the event. The newlyweds turned and smiled, a few photos were taken, and the crowd filed out while the two completed the legal paperwork cementing their union. A few minutes later, the couple burst out of the doors of the base chapel, and were immediately showered with the only thing appropriate for a pair of Intelligence Officers: pounds of 1/8th inch cross-cut classified shred, fresh out of the shredder.
Send away for a perfect world
One not simply so absurd
"Who was it, sweetheart?"
The look on Victor's face was enough of an answer to Moira, who had seen the same expression on so many of her airmen. "No," she whispered. Then, louder, "No! We.. we just.. they can't...not so soon! Our honeymoon isn't even over!!" Even as she railed against the injustice of the timing of the government, her mind was stepping back from the emotions and acknowledging that not even she could come before the duty of a soldier, or an airman.
"Moira, I've been recalled. I have to go. You know this...."
She sobbed and threw her arms around him, holding him so tight it was as though she thought she could keep him from going there, to that foreign land of broken dreams, if she just hung on hard enough.
In these times of doing what you're told
You keep these feelings, no one knows
The uniformed man at the door held an envelope in one white-gloved hand. Moira Morgan's eyes moved slowly up from the envelope to the man's grim expression. With shaking hands, she took the envelope and opened it, drawing out a familiar letter. How many times had she written letters like this? Too many. Far too many.
"We regret to inform you that Lt. Col. Victor Morgan..."
Moira's face slowly crumpled, and she shut the door in the face of the young Captain.
What ever happened to the young man's heart
Swallowed by pain, as he slowly fell apart
"They will never come get you, yes? You are dead." A laughing, bearded man thrust a copy of Victor's file in his face. The only words he saw were KILLED IN ACTION.
"No! Dammit no!" He lunged towards the man, or tried to. His broken body wouldn't obey his commands. He had no memory of how he'd been pulled from the wreckage of the plane, or brought here to this place. He stared at the man with rage-filled eyes.
"We will be using you, yes? You are now, what you call... a lab rat? Or, you may choose the cowards way out. We would expect nothing better from such as you." The man laid a weapon at Victor's feet and stood back. Victor grabbed it and tried to aim it at the man, gasping in pain and helplessness when he couldn't even lift the weapon. The man laughed at Victor's weak attempts at defiance, and left the room.
And I'm staring down the barrel of a 45,
Swimming through the ashes of another life
No real reason to accept the way things have changed
Staring down the barrel of a 45
Time passed. Deep in Dark Astoria, a man made his home. He was neither alive nor dead, existing as a shell of a man filled only with memories of pain and rage, loss and sorrow. Years after his escape from his tormentors, he began searching for Moira. She had moved on, of course she had. It wasn't her fault. She had no reason to believe anything other than what they'd told her. He followed her to Paragon City, proud of her accomplishments, waiting for the right time to reveal himself.
Send a message to the unborn child
Keep your eyes open for a while
When he heard that his beloved Moira was in the hospital with a difficult pregnancy, the lives of her and her child threatened by the child's uncontrolled bone growth, he could hide no longer. He created a serum to help supress the mutation of the daughter. With trepidation he went to the hospital to deliver a miracle. He woke her, spoke to her, and then met her fiance, Thomas. She agreed to use the serum, which worked, with an unexpected side effect. Her daughter became aware.
In a box high up on the shelf, left for you, no one else
There's a piece of a puzzle known as life
Wrapped in guilt, sealed up tight
Two weeks later, the evening after Victor had delivered a second dose of the serum, Moira was in a coma. The doctors couldn't explain it, and neither could Victor. He was certain it wasn't his doing. Wasn't he?
What ever happened to the young man's heart
Swallowed by pain, as he slowly fell apart
Moira was taken for an emergency cesarean after her daughter's vitals became dangerously low. Victor stayed on the roof of the hospital, anguished that he could have inadvertently brought harm to the woman he loved, and the daughter she bore. He fought back the thoughts of "She should have been mine!" and hovered on the edge of despair. Moira remained in a coma.
And I'm staring down the barrel of a 45,
Swimming through the ashes of another life
No real reason to accept the way things have changed
Staring down the barrel of a 45
Two weeks later, Victor was perched on the roof of the hospital as normal. He had a peculiar feeling of being watched, and turned to see a figure standing nearby in a costume very similar to his. At that moment, GyreFalcon landed on the roof. Victor turned to greet him, when suddenly the figure leapt foward with a tazer and attempted to stun the larger man into submission. A short battle ensued, ending when the stranger sucessfully stunned GyreFalcon, who spasmed and slashed Victor's chest. The stranger, a woman, easily threw the limp form of GyreFalcon over her shoulder and leapt away. By the time the rest of the Talons of Freedom had arrived, Victor's blood mixed freely with Gyre's. The initial reports were of a figure in a vaguely 5th Column style uniform, a description that matched Victor. Despite his protests, the Talons weren't ready to trust this newly involved person in Moira's life. Some even suspected he intentionally put her in a coma. To make matters worse, the entire situation revolved around the disappearance of Moira from the hospital!
Everyone's pointing their fingers
Always condemning me
And nobody knows what I believe
I believe
Victor knew he had to help get the missing Talons back. But what could he do? He wasn't even sure if he was dead or alive. He didn't know what he'd be able to accomplish. He retreated back to Dark Astoria and brooded, dwelling on his mistakes, agonizing over the pain he caused others. For a time, all he felt was inner torment, and the cold weight of the gun in his hand.
And I'm staring down the barrel of a 45,
Swimming through the ashes of another life
No real reason to accept the way things have changed
Staring down the barrel of a 45
Please reconsider!