DISCLAIMER: X Files belongs to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, or Fox Entertainment and Grey's Anatomy belongs to Shonda Rhimes and various tv companies make the money.
CHALLENGE: Written for the 'Last Year of Our Life' challenge - spoilers for the Doctor Who series three finale.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
This wasn't how it was supposed to be. The world was supposed to end in four years time. Someone this 'Master' character, had preempted the apocalypse.
Dana Scully felt vaguely cheated. She was supposed to have had four more years at least.
Her medical training and qualifications, however long unused, were enough to get her immunity from the worker camps, a half way decent place to live and regular meals. All communications were strictly controlled, she longed as they all did for the freedom of the internet, the cell phone network.
She had been on a case in Dallas, Texas when the President had been assassinated and the Rift opened allowing the Toclafane access to Earth. No one knew who or what they were exactly. Except that they enjoyed killing things. They really enjoyed it. Hundreds of millions of people had died that first day. Twice as many had died in the year since. No one knew how many animals had been slaughtered to staunch their blood lust.
Dana had been in Dallas, Texas. Her lover, Monica Reyes had been in Washington. She had no idea whether the other woman was still alive. She had to hope that she was.
The New Order had shipped her to Seattle. The whole of the Western Seaboard was one massive factory complex building the ships and weapons. She was helping to keep the workforce alive. There were more and more cases of malnutrition, heavy metal poisoning, accidental irradiation. If she only saw twenty people die in a day it had been a good day. There was always one or more of the Toclafane patrolling the hospital. According to the rigorous triage procedures if the patient would not recover sufficiently to return to work within three days they were terminated. Eight doctors had been killed that Dana knew of trying to protect their patients.
Those that were left drew together. All of them had lost family, friends. Dana grew close to one of the original doctors from the hospital, Addison Montgomery. She had been a renowned specialist in obstetrics and neonatal surgery once upon a time. The two women shared quarters, shared their food, told each other stories of their life before the Toclafane huddled together for warmth under the blankets. Dana told her about Monica, Addison told her about Izzie who had been one of those killed in the initial attack. They cried and they kissed and in memory of all that was lost, they made love.
Four days ago Dr Montgomery had been cut down in front of her. Her scrubs were still stained with her blood. Water was in too short supply to wash clothing more than once a week. It had been inevitable. Women still got pregnant but few were healthy enough to bring a child to term. A woman had been brought in in the throes of a miscarriage. She had been at least four months pregnant. There were complications, pre-eclampsia, seizures, a massive hemorrhage. Addison had tried to save the woman, had begged the hospital authority to release some extra blood supplies so that the woman could be given the transfusion to save her life. She had been refused. Desperate, Addison had tried to donate her own blood directly to the woman. The Toclafane had watched, the giggles of amusement chilling as despite everything Addison did, the woman died. Blood still pouring from the wound in her arm Addison had picked up the nearest heavy blunt object and swung it at the Toclafane sphere.
The clang that the oxygen cylinder had made impacting against the Toclafane sphere had made everyone silently cheer. That and watching the seemingly indestructible alien object wobble on its axis. Dana would love to dissect one of them to find out what it was. There were a million theories. And one truth. The Toclafane were killers.
Dr Montgomery let the cylinder drop to the floor. The Toclafane encroached on her. Two more spheres appeared. This wasn't going to be quick. They were going to make an example of her.
The staff and any patient who was capable of walking were herded out into what had once been the car park. Dr Montgomery stepped forward.
"We've all heard the story," she shouted out. "Don't forget. When the time comes. Don't forget."
The Toclafane began their punishment. The forcefield they spun around her kept her body standing long after all life was extinct. They dissected her, removed the skin, the muscles, the organs, one by one, taking their time. Addison took a long time to die. Her last words were. "Remember the Doctor."
Today was the day, the time. She joined hands with her patients, her fellow medics and closed her eyes. "Doctor," she whispered, pouring all her hopes all her love into the word. "Doctor."
No one was sure what would happen exactly. Whether the misery would all just end, the Toclafane would be sent back through the rift or whether time itself would just unfold, a galactic reset button.
Dana had a second hope: as she prayed for the Doctor, she tried to fix every moment she'd spent with Addison in her mind. So that with any luck, she would not forget.
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