Hi, all. It's been a while, but tonight the urge hit me to finish this (it sat untouched on my HD all summer). So enjoy. And be warned, feedback may cause me to bring this to better resolution in another "sequel". Shattered Dreams By Ann Fountain fountaam@rose-hulman.edu (In the same arc as Never Alive and Broken Dreaming) Category: Angst, Vignette? Please do not summarize. Morning came too quickly. As always. The roses by her bedside mocked her. Their black hue reinforcing her dismal mood. After all, for all her work, for all her suffering, the only thing she might leave behind the day she died, would be clones born out of her pain. She hadn't even planted a tree. She had been approaching the end, and had prepared to fight for her last breath. Now that she knew the battle would be waged much longer, she was weary. And truly wondered what the point of it all was. Her cross was more a reminder of the constant presence of her family, than of her beliefs. Even the ones she had left were nebulous, even to her, and spoke more of a hope that there was something to believe in, rather than the faith various priests had waxed poetically about. Homilies from the pulpit had always left more doubt in her, for the God they spoke of was inconstant in temperament. Wrathful and loving. So it gave her little strength, if any. Perhaps the true reason her mother was pushing her to go back to the Church was so she might have a place to belong, but she doubted it. Her alarm began to shrill as she turned to glance at the clock. 6:00 AM. She hit it off with a satisfying thud and reached for the phone. Maxine of the Psych group would be in now, she made the call. --------------- They found her in a park that afternoon. She knew it was them, as they flanked her. So obvious in their motives, so empty. Skinner reached her first, his face taut, the skin of his scalp a pale red. She heard Mulder's inelegant approach from behind her, but still made no move beyond the requirements to keep the swing going. She closed her eyes as soon as Skinner looked ready to launch into lecture mode, concentrating on the simple motion alone. Until one of them stopped it. She waited for the inevitable rush of words no longer of any meaning to her, her eyes still closed, she waited. None came, at least not at first. Neither did a touch try to stir her from her shell. At least not at first. She counted slowly to one hundred before opening her eyes, and seeing at least one of the Kurts had joined Skinner and Mulder. Kurt smiled at her, a sharp contrast from the worried/angry faces of Mulder and Skinner, and she was powerless to do anything but smile back, and laugh. They had stepped far enough back for her to resume swinging, so she did. A smile for Kurt on her face. And they still said nothing. The park was relatively silent, too early for the school children to flee their toils of spelling and finger-painting, too late for toddlers to put that nap off any longer. Scully started humming children's songs under her breath. Mulder's stare seemed to be boring into the back of her neck. She stopped pushing the swing and let it slowly come to a halt. Then she stood. She spied a bench under a huge oak tree, and headed for it without a word. Seating herself before she faced them and said quite calmly, "Go away." They blinked but made no significant movement, away from her. Staying the same few feet away, violating her personal space. Not caring in the least. "Your resignation is unacceptable." She shut her eyes against Mulder's triumphant grin, "Mulder, that is supposed to be Skinner's line not yours. Go away. She heard them, scuffling their feet like naughty children caught near the scene of the crime. She took a deep breath, and tried to forget they were staring at her, as she attempted to pick out the smells of nature from the pollution of man. She had a chance at a normal life now. Cancer-free, with a unnaturally close to the final tick reproductive clock, and clones for sons. Hell of a lot closer to normal than when she woke up on Mother's Day. Still far from a Norman Rockwell life, but now she had time to change that, if she really wanted to. "Telling that counselor that I wouldn't let you resign was quite rude, Dana." Skinner's voice seemed deeper than usual. She opened her eyes, and saw that while anger was winning on Mulder's face, it was fear that was winning on Skinner's. A strange idea, that the two men in her life were so distant from her. Stranger still, was the completely platonic nature of it. Well, after watching a night of Harrison Ford movies. Tonight it would have to be Mel Gibson. Bird on a Wire as she packed her things, perhaps, or Lethal Weapon 3. Kurt was still smiling. "Have you gotten a name of your own yet, or are you still Kurt?" she smiled. Maybe a Kurt Russell movie, to associate a little comedy with the name again. He laughed, a nice sight against the green of the park. "Little point in having a name of my own. Toxic green blood tends to rule out the plastic surgery required to get my own face." She laughed too, more at the innocence in his facial expression. Skinner and Mulder were silent still. "Have you any ideas were I should move to?" she stood up. "I hear the Midwest is pretty in the spring." Kurt moved to her side, and fell in step as she walked towards the edge of the park, towards her car. "Rather flat, though. Far from the oceans." "True." Kurt nodded. She walked slowly. Allowing plenty of time for Skinner and Mulder to say something meaningful. "But you have family there." She stopped, turned to face him fully. "More green blood?" He nodded, and started to walk again, making her fall in step with him this time. "And some red. Hard to tell what really happened in this life. Especially near D.C. or San Francisco, however near Chicago, a woman like yourself could find everything she thought she had lost." "Lake Michigan is a substantial enough body of water." "I happen to know of a beautiful house that is practically lake front property." His smile grew broader. They were at her car, now. Mulder and Skinner were still silent. "Safer for my green blooded friends if I were to retreat to a wonderful home to spend my last few months. Think I could get a could deal?" "I'll have one of my brothers bring the paperwork in the morning." He extended his hand, but rather than shake it she gave it a firm squeeze. "Take care." She got in the car, and left. As Skinner and Mulder stepped back from the car, still without a single word of import. End Shattered Dreams (1/1)