Hello there! It's been a while since I wrote something for this fandom. Here's the start of a little idea I had- a bunch of "what if's?" These will be little drabbles of things that could have happened in Shapeshifter. And I won't reveal what the what-is is until the end of each chapter. I hope you like them!
Oh, and this is a sort of spoken monologue, which is something I haven't tried before. Let me know if it works!


Hello.

So, it's... it's been a while, hasn't it? I'm sorry that I haven't visited in forever. There is no excuse, but I do live pretty far away from you now. Still, I should've made the time. I should always have time for you.

Well, first things first- happy birthday, mate. I brought flowers. Orange and red, your favourite colours. It's really hard to find orange flowers, did you know that? I mean, not that I mind. I just think the shop keeper was a bit confused when I said who they were for. She kept trying to press lilies on me, she said she didn't think that bright colours were appropriate. You loved orange though. Anything bright, actually. Orange, red, yellow... looking in your wardrobe was like looking at the costume department for "The Lion King." Even the stone on your bracelet was yellow. You were generally just a really bright person. You shone. And, and you didn't smile that often- not always properly, and never in public- but when you did it was like nothing else in the world could possibly matter. You had a really amazing smile, dude. I was pretty lucky to be on the receiving end of most of them.

I wish I could see you smile again. I know it shouldn't hurt that you've never contacted anyone since, but it does. I know I'm probably the least psychic out of everyone, but you could talk to Lisa, or Dax, maybe even Mia. I'd just like to know that you're doing all right. But since we don't know what you're doing, everyone's got different theories. Dax thinks that you've gone off to find wolf-boy and tell him stories about us. Luke said once that you might have gone to visit Catherine. You were always very forgiving- I guess you had to be, to put up with me all the time! Do you remember when I brought that dog into school? I felt terrible about that- not because it was a stupid thing to do to Dax, but because you were so angry with me that we didn't talk for almost a week. I'd never felt worse in my whole twelve years of life.

I really miss Fenton Lodge. I was an idiot- I thought I'd be better off alone at university. Most people grouped together. Clive's at Oxford, obviously, along with Luke. Mia's gone into teacher training, Jenny is trying to make it as a singer... I'm at medical school, in London. We're all relatively close to each-other, but it's not the same. Do you know what I hate the most? No-one there knows who you are. A few years ago I could be watching a movie with some friends, and say, "he loved this scene," or something like that, and they'd understand. I do it instinctively now, and every time I do I have to explain to another person who you are, where you are now and why you're not here with me. It hurts so much. They said I would get used to it, but I haven't. I haven't moved on in the slightest. I still make sure there is a clean glass in the bathroom every night, and I always write down your birthday in my calendar every year. And there's a photo of the two of us on the fridge. We're sitting in the treehouse at Fenton Lodge, and you wanted to take a picture, because, "we never take pictures! What happens when we're old and our grandkids ask us what we were like at school? What are we going to show them? Now shut up and smile!"

I'll show it to my grandkids, if you want. And I'll take lots of pictures tonight. It's your birthday, so naturally we're celebrating. We're all meeting at Lisa and Mia's flat, and we'll play lots of loud music and annoy the neighbours for you. Gideon said something about fireworks last time we talked- God knows how that will end up. Their garden is tiny and Gideon is as good at handling explosives as I am with buying appropriate flowers for a friend's grave. Which is to say, really really bad. Hopefully we'll all survive the night! And if we don't... well, then maybe I'll get to see you again.

I'd better go. It's a long drive back.

Happy birthday, Darren.

I hope you like the flowers.


What if: Darren got shot by a bullet, not a tranquiliser in Stirring The Storm.

Please review!
Adelaide.