End of Days

By: Kennedy Leigh Morgan

Rating: G

Disclaimer: Yeah, they're all mine, tee-hee, that's a good one. No, for real, I don't own 'em never have, never will, don't sue me. End of Story.

Days had become indistinct for Dana Williams, she had to ask the intern, Morgan, the date every once in a while just to remember that it was 2054. There was nothing to set the hours apart anymore, things as simple as getting out of bed exhausted her. She'd gone through her plethora of memories so many times they'd become jumbled into a virtually meaningless glob of information.

Jared and Richard were visiting today though, so it was probably a Sunday, but she wasn't exactly sure. They were watching some sports game or another, their earlier conversation had died out after nearly two hours. She'd gotten tired after talking and had taken a catnap. But now she was awake and had nothing better to do than watch her son and husband as they focused on the T.V. Jared looked young to her still, though he was pressing sixty-two. Richard was a year older than she he and lived with their grandson, William and his family. He was in better health than her but that was only because he hadn't gotten cancer.

She'd made it just past her last birthday before the cancer had become too much. She'd been in the hospital ever since. Three of the six months she'd spent there she hadn't been able to go much farther than the bathroom.

Three months with nothing to do gave a once extremely active person a lot of time to think, to look back on her life. As far as they go hers had been very good. She'd married right out of med school and balanced a career and a family of six kids plus for 63 years. Now she had twenty-eight grandchildren and forty-six great grandchildren. She'd improved the lives of tens of hundreds in the medical field, first as an ER doctor then as a pediatrician.

Her life had been long and full and as happy as they come. She could feel the end coming though, and couldn't help wondering if there was something she hadn't done that she should have. Some turn that she'd missed along the way. She somehow felt that this end, this long, slow, painful battle with leukemia was not the way she was supposed to go.

Outside her window the streets were finally clean after years of human persistence looking for a way to improve the planet. The war between space and Earth was now only a chapter in history books that human and alien children studied together in schools galaxy-wide. The events that brought these things to the norm were something she felt like she should have had a part in and that she hadn't.

It was like that old movie, Titanic. At the end the main character had done the things in life she'd said she wanted to do, Dana wasn't sure she could claim that. And now she was sure that sunset was upon her. The curtain was coming down, the door to this life would close forcing her to move forward in the grand scheme of things and it was too late to go back to find what she was missing.

She gazed lovingly at her son and husband one last time, too tired to even say goodbye o get their attention at all.

The room around her grew dimmer and dimmer but not before her old eyes saw a tiny spot of bright light, like a star, that was growing to illuminate the whole room. In the light a form of a man grew visible as his bright visage widened. He was tall, dark, and obscenely handsome and though he looked young, something in his eyes suggested that he was an old soul. He wore all white and a smile, though he was standing next to her bed, Jared and Richard hadn't seemed to notice him at all. Dana was sure she'd never even seen the man before but somehow he was familiar to her. He reached his hand out to her saying,

"Come on Scully, let's go."

She hadn't borne the name Scully in over sixty years but she trusted this familiar yet unknown man so she took his hand and followed him through the light. Both understanding and vowing that the mistakes and wrong turns of this life would not be made in the next.

She gave the man a smile as they left one world behind for another.

Far behind them in a tiny room inside St. Paul's Home for the Elderly, a man turned from his football game to glance at his mother. To the world she looked like she was still just asleep but the straight, continuous line on her readouts said otherwise.

"Dad," he said, getting his father's attention." She's gone."

The old man turned to see the woman who had once been his wife. A faint smile graced her lips and her hand was place as if gripping someone else's. A tear found its way down his wrinkled and careworn cheek as he whispered, "Take care of her," to nobody in particular. He knew that someone had been sent to get her, to take her forward in a crazy thing called life.

Fin

A/N: Okay so that was just a little weird I know. And maybe a little morbid too, but I promise next time I'll be more happy or something.

This little blurb was actually started while I was on my way to the hospital to visit someone the other day and finished last night after I watched the Emmy's and the last part of Titanic (which explains the reference to the movie) which may or may not account for the off-the-wallness of it. Anyhoo, feedback would be very much appreciated, so please review or email me.