TITLE: 'Fragments - In Memoriam' AUTHOR: XSketch EMAIL: SketchShipper@hotmail.com RATING: PG-13 (I'd rate it G, but there's one bad word) CLASSIFICATION: V, Angst, challenge fic, MSR, possibly implied DRR, post-colonisation, character death SPOILERS: Nothing specific, except maybe DeadAlive and The Truth DISCLAIMER: No claim so please no sue!!! CC, Fox, 1013 etc. have the rights to ruin them...I just borrow them to make things better :-) SUMMARY: What should you say to try immortalise someone you already know will never be forgotten? FEEDBACK: The holiest of grails and my source of life - please, help a gal live!!! This is my first challenge fic, though, so please be gentle! AUTHOR'S NOTE: Written for IWTBXF's 'Memorial Day' challenge and dedicated to Lisa...Just because :-) Also, please note that whilst this is post-series and you should assume everything in the show has happened, 'Jump The Shark' in this universe never happened. ======================================================== Fragments. Fragments of life, of buildings, of Mankind, of the planet...Fragments scattered everywhere as far as the eye could see; Most of it destroyed and beyond repair, but at the end of the day, after the dust settled, it was still their planet to inhabit and their fragments to cling to. Was still what they had fought so hard for and won. Was still what they had lost so many lives to reclaim. The aliens had arrived - being the ironically proper bastards that They were - on schedule on December 22nd 2012 at 7am EST to re- colonize what They believed to be Their property. But They had clearly underrated the power of the human spirit and the current inhabitants' preventative planning, and They had ended up in the greatest of wars against the resistant race. Certainly meeting their match against the ever-determined group from DC that had been sending up the warning flares and working on the vaccine non-stop throughout the decade-long lead up. Fox Mulder, Dana Scully and their son William, Walter Skinner, Alvin Kersh, John Doggett, Monica Reyes, The Lone Gunmen, Gibson Praise, Jeffrey Spender - all names that would forever be listed as saviours of the planet, yet few would ever hear or remember. It had taken fifteen years or fire, infection and bloodshed, but finally the invaders had given up on the planet as a lost cause and waste of time - turning Their backs on the crumbled ruins and shattered lives that remained. No matter how pointless it seemed, the humans had won...And yet that was little consolidation for the fragments of the DC group left to mourn. Now - five years later - they've decided to seize that victory, though, and celebrate the plight of their fallen loved ones. They'd been uneasy about the idea up until now - choosing to suffer with their grief in silence. But it had finally become too much for one fiery- haired member of the group to let her partner's hard work and sacrifice go forgotten, so she had organised the memorial here in the open hole that had many years ago been the basement of the FBI headquarters - the home of the X-Files. The bodies are buried at Arlington amongst the others that had died for their freedom throughout history, but here was where so much had happened and their souls deserved to be laid to rest. The woman shuffles forward with the help of her son (who's now the same age his parents had been when they'd first met and protects his mother with a passion clearly inherited from his father) and looks at the six plaques ahead of her. She places a white rose on each and then adds a red rose to the one on the middle plaque - her fingers tenderly dancing across the name engraved there before there's the soft whisper in her ear and a gentle hand helping her to stand up again. "Mom, we need to do this." She's expected to give a speech - to find some grand string of words that will immortalise the names of the people lost. But how do you find all the words to describe people you fought side-by-side with and loved? How can you try to immortalise the name of someone that will never die in your heart? She'd been puzzling it out over and over again right up until leaving home this morning, but as she turns her scarred, crippled, aging body to stare at each of the remaining comrades in turn - John and Monica tightly holding onto each other, Gibson just in front of them with his head lowered, Walter to the left, not far behind, watching her intently, and of course William at her side (as always) - she knew there was only one thing she could say in memorial of those that had given everything so that they could live in a world not overrun by extraterrestrials...So that they could *live*. Her face lifts to face the sun that shines upon them, and far from being the first or last time, Scully remembers that day not four months before the end of the battle when her life had been blown apart thanks to the ripped, bloodied body of her partner dying in her arms. "You don't get rid of me that easily..." he'd joked, averting his eyes away from her briefly to glance at the lifeless gray nearby. "I came back before..." But he hadn't this time. "Dana?" came Skinner's hoarse whisper. If they wanted something memorable, they'd just have to deliver it themselves. This she had to say. So with face still upturned, frail hands tightly pressed against her chest and jaw set, she cried out at the top of her quavering voice "*Thank you!*" Eyes slipping shut, her head lowered, and she was about to collapse to her knees when she suddenly felt a strong arm wrap around her and pull her against a tall, warm body. "The dead will never be lost to us," William whispered against the top of his mother's head. "Thank you." There was the sound of shuffling feet and ten seconds later the feel of more arms encircling them. "Thank you," the group whispered in unison. It was enough. Nothing more needed to be said as long as they continued to live, maintained their freedom and kept the memories in their hearts - no matter how many fragments their lives had been ripped into. XXXXXXXXXX THE END