Life: Days of Present's Past
Disclaimer: I don't own any parts of Life, Dark Angel, or Bones. NBC produced and aired Life. FOX produced and aired Dark Angel and Bones. I'm simply inspired to entertain.
Prologue: 18 Years in the Making
I remember 1989. there was giggling. Lots of giggling. Lots of noise making. Seconds, minutes, hours had passed and slowly an uneasy silence settled in as I lay there next to Charlie Crews, then a tall, thin but well built teen whose hodgepodge of wild red hair, piercing blue eyes, and gentle smile distinguished him from all the other boys that had chased me in school.
I let out a deep sigh prompting him to turn to face me and lightly stroke my left cheek. "What's wrong?" he asked. What's wrong?! Are you kiddin' me?! I thought. I angrily brushed aside his hand and sat upright, using what little of the cover on my side to cover myself…not that I needed to. I was his.
"Laura?" he said pleadingly. But that only made me angrier. And after what seemed like forever, I finally said "I'm sorry. It's just…this…us…everything. I mean, we're doing this just when you're about to leave for California. California! I…" But before I could say another word, Charlie grabbed me and kissed me.
And when he was done, he leaned forward slightly and whispered in my ear "I'll only be gone for six months. I'll be back. I promise."
But Charlie never came back. He never called. He never wrote. He'd left me alone. He'd given me the greatest joys of my life but left me only with false hope and a violent aftermath.
Days passed. Months passed. Slowly my love for him withered and was replaced by anger and, eventually, hatred. Why? Because he'd left a part of him with me. A beautiful, bouncing baby boy with wild red hair, piercing blue eyes, and a smile to match. And every time I saw my boy, I saw him. I wanted to kill him.
I don't know much about who my parents were or where I was born. For crying out loud, I don't even know my real name. All I know is that my mother must have loved me more than anything else in the world. I know because I was found lying in her arms, tightly held to her chest as the tributes to my two month anniversary, the ashes of a blazing fire and my mother's blood, rained down on me. She had protected me, kept me safe as she herself was brutally murdered.