Prologue: 'A World Crumbling'

"OhmygodohmygodohmygodohmyGOD!!" Benton Quest said frantically as he raced into the emergency room.

"Quest! What room are the Quests in!" he shouted worriedly. He was growing more agitated by the second.

"Room 206!" a nurse said, pointing, too stunned by the sudden entrance to argue. Dr. Quest ran in the direction indicated and tore into the room. He stopped suddenly as he saw the figure lying in the bed, another figure kneeling motionless beside it. He gathered up the kneeling figure in his arms, and they cried together. When there were no tears left to shed, they held each other, the final surviving members of what was previously a perfect, happy life.

Later, he sat in the hall outside the room in shock. He thought "My wife, my son, God, what'll happen now? What happened?" The police told him they were assaulted, but the assailant got away before anyone got a good look at him.

It didn't matter. The damage was done in the scant seconds in which the attack took place. His small, young family was decimated.

"Dr. Quest?" a doctor asked "We're sorry, but there's too much damage, and it's too widespread. If they got here sooner..." he let the sentence trail off. "There's nothing we can do but ease the patient from life. You'd better come in now, it should happen soon." The doctor shook his head. He hated this job sometimes...

Fighting back tears, he slowly entered the room, knowing what would have to happen when he did. When he heard a soft cry from the bed, he lost all hesitance and rushed to the bedside.

Two eyes, bluer than the sky outside their window on that perversely sunny day, gazed at him, a slight smile curving the small mouth. That smile was replaced by a grimace as pain wracked the dainty body. Rachel embraced him, as the monitor flat lined.

They then got up together, quietly weeping as they walked out of the room where their son lay motionless.

At the tender age of six, at 5:32 PM, Jonathan Benton Quest died from wounds inflicted by an unknown assailant. His mother, Rachel Wildey Quest, another target of the attack, was unharmed.


The End (the beginning?)

Author's Note: Okay. There it is. [pause] Hmm... it's not half bad, actually. Not half good, either, but oh well. How many of you knew that those last two lines were coming a mile away? I remember a line from MST3K a few weeks back. "C'mon! Dead people know what's happening!" when the movie was trying to be all mysterious and surprising. Well, I'm always critical about my own work, so if you like it, more power to you. It's just that self-deprecating humor of mine kicking in.

Seriously, though, I might make a series of this, showing aftermath and what changes because of this. I'm not sure if this concept was used before (it sure _seems_ familiar) but here's my take on it. C&C are welcomed, MSTs should be sent to me before being sent to the list, so I know what public humiliation I'm up for. ^_~ Flames will probably be forwarded to (no wait, that might _condone_ flames...j/k)

Ja ne!



OTHER Categories: ALT (I didn't want to give it away before the story)

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Date: Sat, Apr 3, 1999, 2:30 AM 

Author's Note: Okay, my first released fic. I don't know if this is any good, but it's a "past" fic, and I tried to piece together the details of Rachel's death for it. I used some JGQ, some of what I believe for no good reason, and some of what I picked up from discussions. Also, I visited for the express purpose of this story, and ended up spending an hour there, just perusing the info. Great site. If anything gets horribly twisted up, however, it's my fault.

Rating: G / PG

Category: Past, Angst, (for other categories read the story, _then_ look at the bottom for the info.)

Archivers: Take it, but tell me if you ain't Suze.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Quests, the series, and I barely own the story (Comico and JGQ seems to have written most of it) I just added my own twists to it. If you sue me, um, what do you expect to get?