Disclaimer: Not my characters.
Spoilers: All Things, Memento Mori, anything to do with Luke.
Summary: Four what-could-have-been's. Completely unrelated to each other, except in a weird, Twilight Zone-ish kind of way.
A/N: For the LJ xfdrabble challenge 30. Alternative Universe.

Dana

The kids are always up at the crack of dawn. Jessica chattering at the top of her lungs, Mikey chasing the puppy around the house. Dana can't quite remember her life before this, can't help thinking that although this is supposedly the American Dream (2.5 kids – check; white picket fence – check; dog – check) something feels wrong.

Isn't this what she wanted?

She loves her children. She loves Daniel, she thinks. She even loves her job, sort of. As much as she can love dispensing aspirin to geriatrics.

But sometimes she looks up at the stars and wonders what she's missing.

Mulder

There are so many things he left unsaid, so many things he wished he'd had the chance to share with her. He should have known they didn't have forever. He hadn't wanted to face the truth; ironic, really, considering the driving force of his life is the search for truth.

All he can do is hold her hand and breathe with her as the monitors track her heartbeat.

Then he kisses her forehead, hugs her mother and finds the nearest bar. When he realizes that alcohol can't hide the pain forever, he goes home, showers, and goes to her funeral.

John

"Luke?"

The yard is empty but for the bicycle lying carelessly on its side.

"Luke?"

He knows never to run off, John thanks, starting to panic. He's been told a thousand times never to talk to strangers.

But where is he?

Cases immediately spring to mind: children lured away by pedophiles, killed by madmen, sold into child prostitution.

No, John thinks. Not Luke. Not my son.

But he knows that's exactly what happened: someone convinced his sweet, innocent, trusting boy to go with them.

And then Luke comes running up, a scruffy dog in his arms"Can we keep him?"

Monica

In New York on a case, Barbara is the last person she expected to see. More surprising is that although her connection to Luke can only be painful for the other woman, there's no hostility.

Barbara invites her over for dinner ("To thank you for everything you did," she says), Monica brings a bottle of wine.

In the morning, she wakes up spooned behind Barbara, her face nestled in blonde hair, her arm draped over Barbara's waist. Though she's not quite sure how this happened, she has no regrets.

If there's one thing she's learned, it's that life's too short.