Twisted

Written by Sarga

Summary: A girl awakens to find that she is now living the life of Kagome, time travel and all. Inadvertently reshaping the world around her, Kagome begins to realize just how twisted her path is becoming. Cannon Universe...with a Twist.

Disclaimer: Iyay ontday wonoyay Nuayshaiyay

Epilogue: Identity

Miroku by night, Mishka/Michael by day:

The old woman shuffled her feet slowly as she made her way across the small sterile room. Her hunched shoulders were covered in layers of home spun cloth, decorated with hand-sewn designs. Settling her small bag on a low table, she took out a comfortable and careworn pillow and laid it on the floor. She sat down and began arranging her items, covering the table with an intricately decorated cloth and spreading the items purposefully over it. Looking woefully at her grandson in the hospital bed before her, she shook her head in sorrowful dismay and she whispered her thoughts.

"The young always think they're invincible."

The old woman sighed as she straightened her shoulders and began lighting the candles and incense before her.

"Oh, Mishka, if this doesn't help you, I don't know what will," her mournful voice, though aged, spoke strongly to her grandson whose head turned toward her voice, his one swollen eye peering groggily toward her.

He watched as his gypsy grandmother began her ritual, her voice speaking in the ancient tongue that he could not decipher in his broken state.

"Darkened eyes finding no light,
Sleeping by day, sleeping by night,
Alone no more, together they fight,
Cursing the darkness they heal.

"No time, no place, yet finding a home,
Bound together yet holding their own,
Familiar journey like patchwork is sewn,
Mere fantasy no more, but real.

"Shaping the past,
Together they last,
Journey's end come fast.

"Healing proceed, survival assured,
Inevitable victory must be procured,
Failure no option despite its allure,
Safety and strength bound together.

"Some lose to their fates and may indeed fall,
Those remaining must carry the ball,
Symbolic battle with winner take all,
Survivors awaken forever."

Despite his inability to focus on her words, he could feel her intent driving towards him. As an overwhelming urge to sleep overtook him, he smiled in gratitude for her gift of a chance to heal.

The old woman released a tense breath as she felt her grandson retreat within himself. His head trauma was bad but could have been worse if he had not worn that helmet of his. She predicted a month of healing before he would awaken from his 'coma' but she knew he would be the better for it. What was it the doctors had said? 'It was lucky that he had even survived, let alone remembered his name.' This would fix the rest of his injuries and perhaps help others along the way.

A month of sleep later and his CT scan showed major improvement. The doctors were baffled at his lingering coma, almost as baffled as when he was found sitting up in his bed exactly one month after he had fallen into said coma.

Mishka, or Michael to those outside of the family, recovered quickly, although he never did participate in BMX biking again; he knew he had something important to live for or rather, someone. He would wait the year it took for her to fall into her healing sleep and he would be there for when she woke up.

Sango by night, Sachiko by day:

Sachiko's mother stood by her side, holding her hand as the medication kicked in. This desperate attempt would render her body useless and was the last option the doctors had to offer...but fighting desperately was better than giving in and dieing.

A spasm of pain ripped through Sachiko's body leaving her weak and nauseous.

Sachiko would not give up, it was not in her to give up. Her mantra had become a constant source of strength. Just one more minute and the pain will subside. Just one more day and the treatment will be complete. Just one more week and her test results would be back. Just one more...

Just one more round of treatment and Sachiko would be able to beat this monster back, this vile parasite that fed off of her very being. Hope was not an option, it was a way of life. The firm belief that she would conquer this obstacle got her through every excruciating moment. It was Sachiko's strength, it was her power; Hope and her family's love.

Sachiko's eyes glazed over as the serum took effect. She felt the obligatory drowsiness and she fought to overcome it. Alas, this was one battle she could not win. As her focus escaped her completely and she was forced to close her eyes in fatigue, Sachiko took comfort in the fact that she was not alone. Her family would be with her, in victory or defeat

The drugs put Sachiko in a coma for a month. One month during which the doctors could not test with anything more invasive than a heartbeat monitor. One month while her family sat next to her, their words spoken softly, with the firm knowledge that she would fight through this and return to them.

On the first week, Sachiko's brother thought he had seen her hand move. He was mistaken and was nearly devastated.

On the second week, Sachiko's mother knew she would pull through, despite the consoling doctors telling her otherwise. She sat by her daughter's side in silent support.

On the third week, Sachiko's father cried for her. He almost gave up hope.

On the fourth week, Michael arrived.

Michael breathed a breath of fresh air into their lives. He sat with the family, he held Sachiko's hand while the others slept, he helped with the bills that had begun to pile up. But of all that he did for her family, they would remember him for one vital thing; Michael brought Sachiko back to life.

Whispering into her ear, Michael was startled by the feeling of Sachiko's hand striking his cheek.

"Not unless you ask really nice," Sachiko croaked from a dry mouth, half a smile gracing her cracked lips.

Michael grinned like the rascal he was. He did not mind that her voice was cracking, he did not mind that her hair was only an inch long, heck, he did not even mind that her hand print was embedded in his cheek. Finally, his love had awoken.

Houjo by night, Horace by day:

"I don't think he'll be able to be integrated back into society at this rate, Sherri," Dr. Tanner explained to a grieving woman.

"Isn't there...anything you can do for him," Sherri's voice was small, like she was afraid of the answer.

The doctor glanced nervously to the door before looking back to the woman.

"You have two options. The first is to allow him to remain here with no chance for recovery until medical advancements are made. The second..." Dr. Tanner took a breath. "The second option is one that I do not recommend, but is available to you if you should so choose." Sherri's eyes were fixed to the doctor's. "Dr. Nagarajan, one of the leading researchers in the study of neurological imbalance, has developed a chemical treatment that is highly experimental. It has been tested on only a handful of humans with various results. The first stage is to induce an artificial coma. The second stage involves three weeks of the chemical drip being pumped through him. The final stage is to bring him out of his chemical coma at which time his body may or may not awaken.

"Treatment has the possibility of normalize his brain chemistry permanently but..." Dr. Tanner sighed. "It has only has a twenty percent success rate. Half of the test group woke up with no discernible improvement. Of the remaining, half never woke up at all, despite their perfect physical health. Of the rest, some woke up worse than when they started, some woke up only to beg to go back to sleep and some went into a state of catatonia. Of the ones who wanted to go back to sleep, some were successfully reintegrated into society, others ended up committing suicide."

Sherri's eyes widened.

"But..." Sherri's tiny voice had a glimmer of hope. "If you leave him the way he is, he'll just get worse anyway won't he?"

"At the time being, yes," the doctor said mechanically. "However medical advancements happen all of the time. In a few more years there could be another option for treatment..."

"Or he could be beyond hope," a third voice chimed in from the doorway.

Dr. Tanner's shoulders slumped as Dr. Nagarajan entered the room.

"Dr. Tanner here may not agree with my research methods, but we are getting closer to a cure. While it's true that the first iteration of the treatment was less than stellar, the second has had a success rate of forty percent not twenty. Your brother could be a part of the clinical trial that would open the window for himself and hundreds more to be cured. All you need to do is sign the waiver."

Dr. Tanner glared at the intruder but did nothing to stop Sherri from signing the form. She gave a great sigh of relief as she handed over the completed waver and stood to follow the doctor out.

"Say what you need to say to him before we put him under," Dr. Nagarajan coaxed gently as Sherri watched her brother on a closed circuit monitor. "The calmer you make him, the easier his recovery will be."

Sherry nodded and went alone to her brother's room where he sat restlessly in one corner.

"Hey Horace, how are you feeling."

Horace sharply focused his attention to his sister. His stare was unnerving, but she maintained her calm, after all, she had seen him at his worst and this was definitely not it.

"It's okay if you don't talk, I know you would rather be alone." Sherri smiled softly at her brother. "Tomorrow afternoon the doctors are going give you a medicine. It'll make it so you don't have to be afraid anymore. What do you think about that?"

His eyes stayed sharply attuned to hers.

"Don't worry little brother," Sherri said in her most soothing voice.

Horace's eyes drifted from hers and she felt a chill run down her spine. He was in one of his episodes and there was no telling what he was imagining right now.

Sherri saw his gaze return to her before he yelled at the top of his voice.

"GO AWAY!"

So she left, somewhat shaken but knowing that in a few weeks he might be one step closer to her.

True to his sister's word, orderlies came promptly at noon, strapped Horace onto a bed and injected him with a sedative. He fell asleep to the sound of the vile woman screaming in his head.

When Horace awoke he was in a room not unlike the one he had been put to sleep in, except this one had windows. His arms were tied down to the bed and his sister stood in the corner of the room out of the way of the doctors. She looked so drawn out, so tired, so old.

"You could use a day at the spa, sis," Horace whispered with a smirk. He knew where he was, he knew (if only roughly) when it was. More importantly for the first time in a long while he could say it without a hint of fear; he knew he wasn't alone.

Yuka by night, Yasmin by day

Yasmin sat on her bed snuggled in her pajamas as she thought about the day. She had awoken early to find her favorite pet, heck, her only pet, dead in its cage. Yasmin's pet budgie, Loki, had died in the night. They had held a beautiful little service for him, burying him in a remote corner of the garden near a huge oak tree.

It was late evening and Yasmin's mother had left a couple of hours earlier to run a few errands before the long weekend. Her father was already gone to bed, his snoring surprisingly muted in comparison to what it normally was. Still upset because of the loss of her pet, Yasmin had a good cry. Taking a couple of Ibuprofen for the headache she had given herself from crying, she lay down and fell asleep.

About an hour later, Yasmin's mother came home, put away her groceries and brought her husband's medication upstairs. Seeing his sleeping form, she frowned slightly; he never remembered to take his medication on his own and now she would have to wake him up.

Stroking his arm gently, her normally light-sleeping husband remained unconscious. Shaking a little harder, she began to get frightened as he refused to even acknowledge her efforts. Resorting to drastic measures, she slapped her husband on the cheek hard enough to leave a mark. Yet, still he remained asleep. Panicking, she flew to the phone and called the emergency line.

"Go to the nearest window and open it as wide as you can," the operator urged. "Get out of the house as quickly as possible. Take your husband with you and make sure any small children are out of the house as well. This sounds like carbon monoxide poisoning."

Moving as quickly as possible, Yasmin's mother hoisted her husband off of the bed and dragged him across the bedroom. Moving as quickly as she could, she pulled her husband down one half-flight of stairs and then another. Nearly collapsing from exhaustion, she caught her breath as quickly as possible and headed out the door, her husband in tow. Laying him gently in the grass, she raced up the stairs to her daughter's room and lifted her much more easily down the stairs and outside of the house.

When the paramedics came they could not awaken either of the victims. In the hospital, Yasmin's mother was treated for minor exposure and her husband and daughter were treated for acute poisoning. Her husband spent a couple of hours unconscious but was otherwise well after a couple of days. Yasmin, however was another matter. For two weeks, doctors tried to bring her out of her coma. Both mother and father prayed for her health.

At the end of the second week, Yasmin passed away.

"Yasmin Dafina, 15, local dance prodigy, died of complications due to carbon monoxide poisoning on July 3rd, 2003. Yasmin was a model student, active in the community and was known for her friendly spirit and charitable heart.

"Yasmin Dafina is survived by her mother and father."

Kagome by night, Kimberly by day

Kimberly could hear the sound of a fog horn coming closer to her as she broke from her peaceful slumber.

"Loud noise...why does it have to be so loud? Can't I keep sleeping?" Kimberly mumbled to herself.

With a jolt, the screeching of tires deafened her as she curled into a ball, desperately seeking to avoid the crushing impact of the tanker truck as it jackknifed over her family's car. The vehicle was suddenly wedged underneath the tanker body as it slid sideways down the road. Kimberly was knocked to the floor, the shoulder strap of her seatbelt having been shifted sideways for comfort. The seat in front of her was jammed back and, unable to avoid inertia at work, Kimberly could only gasp as her body was deprived of oxygen, forcing her to black out painfully...

"Get your ass in gear!" an unseen voice barked orders as red-clad arms pulled her securely into a firm grasp before leaping away. Softer, the voice turned toward her, for her ears only "You're leg's broken but I have to get you out of here before..."

Fire, bright and hot, burned at their heels as Kimberly felt herself propelled once again, her protector's firm embrace keeping her from a lethal impact with jagged rocks.

Kimberly looked at her savior and wondered how someone so young could take charge like that. Her thoughts, disconnected from her situation, wandered from one topic to another. She noticed his eyes were light brown, almost an amber in color.

Kimberly's rescuer grunted with effort as he ran to get out of the flame's reach, carrying her extra weight the whole time. "I'll keep you safe," he whispered as she was once again lost to the pain and the darkness...

"...blood loss...has a broken leg..." Who was speaking?

"...not going to make..." Why couldn't she focus?

"...be something we can..." Wouldn't anyone tell her what was going on?

Soft hands gently wiped Kimberly's forehead and she sighed in contentment, forgetting the pain, the confusion. For the time being, this would be fine. The soft hand moved from her forehead to her cheek to her pulse and back to her cheek. It felt so comforting and she was in such pain. All she wanted to do was sleep...

The soft hand slapped her lightly on the cheek, waking her back up to her body's aches and pains. She moaned in agony.

"Uh-uh, no you don't, stay with me."

That voice, it was so soothing.

"You've hit your head, you can't go to sleep yet, come on," the voice was getting agitated, desperate. "Stay with me..."

But it felt so good to sleep...and she would wake up in just a minute...just a little bit of rest...

The little bit of rest turned into days and the days into weeks. The whole while Kimberly's rescuer kept his eye on her, checking up on her daily, keeping tabs on her progress. It took an entire month before she finally regained consciousness.

Opening her eyes Kimberly's gaze fell on her one visitor, her rescuer. His golden eyes and pale blond hair drew her attention almost as much as his brooding expression.

"You..." Kimberly whispered, her voice tired and weakened from disuse. "You saved me. Thank you,"

His head snapped up as he noticed she had awoken. Putting on a sideways grin, he smirked at her.

"You certainly made those doctors work for their paychecks, I'll tell you that," he joked.

Smiling feebly she looked around for any sign of her mother or stepfather. Seeing none, she scrunched up her eyebrows in confusion.

"Have you seen my parents?" Kimberly asked in her sandpaper voice.

The boy looked uncomfortable.

"I..." he looked around the room desperately for someone to ease the burden from his shoulders. Seeing no one, he was not about to abandon her. "They died on impact," he offered her the only thing he could, the truth.

Kimberly's eyes went wide, their watery depths overflowing with grief. Without shame or self-consciousness, he held her until her sobbing subsided.

"Thank you," Kimberly hiccuped as she drew back, her eyes dry and her nose red. He nodded to her, unsure what to say.

"I should...go find a nurse or something. You've been out of it for a while." He got up and left her on her own. She thought back to her adventures and wondered if the others had made it through okay.

He returned with a nurse who began to check her vital signs.

"What's your name?"

"Kago...Kimberly."

Question after question, Kimberly answered them quickly and well. "How old are you? Where do you live? What's your favorite color?"

The third degree complete, Kimberly was left somewhat traumatized by the nurse's brisk nature.

"Jeeze, someone should give her a joint or something to mellow her out," Kimberly's savior snapped as the nurse left the room. She looked at him strangely for a moment before they both burst into gales of laughter.

Kimberly realized she didn't even know his name. "What...what's your name?" she asked softly.

"Neil," he responded equally as softly.

"Well, Neil, thanks for being here. I don't think it would be easy to take this on my own," Kimberly smiled wanly at his somber face.

"Well you won't need to worry about being too lonely, I've got a list of people I was supposed to call when you woke up but didn't get a chance to." Neil didn't get to elaborate too much as a doctor soon came in, taking over the show.

"Excuse us Neil, we're going to have to complete a physical and we like to request that non-immediate family and friends please step into the hallway while we do so." Neil nodded and quickly left before Kimberly could utter a single word in response.

About an hour later, Neil returned, doing a bad job at suppressing a grin.

Kimberly looked at Neil suspiciously. "What?"

"Like I said before, you won't have to worry about being alone, there are three people out there waiting to see you. I'll be leaving in a bit so I wanted to tell you before I let them in...My number's in your purse, we had to go through it to find your contact info for relatives. If you want..." Neil ran his fingers through his hair nervously. "I could help you with some of the stuff you're going through. I lost my parents when I was younger so..." he trailed off with a helpless shrug.

Kimberly nodded, smiling shyly as Neil extended his hand. Shaking his hand, she gave him a real smile, and he blushed to the roots of his hair. He left a shortly after three strangers came through the door.

"Kimberly?" the girl asked.

"Yeah?" Kimberly looked at them all, trying to remember where she might have seen them before.

"I'm Sachiko, this is Mishka...I mean Michael, and this is Horace." Sango...Miroku...Houjo...

Kimberly's eyes widened as realization dawned, it had been real.

"Yasmin...?" Kimberly saw three faces sadden at the mention of her name. "She didn't make it did she?"

Horace shook his head.

"Well, at least we're all here," Kimberly smiled sadly. "Speaking of which, you're all so much older than I thought you'd be!"

The conversation went on for a good couple of hours before visiting hours were over. With heartfelt goodbyes Kimberly knew she would have good friends to rely on in her time of mourning. And maybe, if all went well, she could find something more with her golden eyed savior.

FIN

That's all folks. Hope you enjoyed the ride. Thank you for flying with us today and remember to take all of your overhead baggage before you go.

As always, please read and review.

Taa-taa for now!

-- Sarga