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| Fisch in 3 parts; K+ | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Apr 12 2006, 09:27 PM (247 Views) | |
| Keenir | Apr 12 2006, 09:27 PM Post #1 |
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Returned
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Title: Fisch in 3 parts. Author: Rodlox. Summary: Loss and service are sometimes all people have left. Rating: K+ Only the original characters are my own; all others are canon and belong to the wonderful people who bring us _The 4400_. Author's notes: This ficlet takes place in three parts. It was originally two parts...but I think this OFC could neatly tie up a loose end left behind by 'Suffer the Children'. also, any errors about polio are my own mistake. Spoilers: Pilot, the s1 finale, Suffer the Children. it also references the Devon Saga of mine. ~~~ EPISODE 1.1: Her grave was small and unadorned, bearing only a name and a date: Amy Fish nee Clepp, 1927-1959. The little standing stone had only one visitor, and he had been the late Amy's husband and personal doctor: Edmund Fisch, disappeared 7 August 1950, unable to see past the water in his eyes what details the passage of time had etched into the stone. 'Be a pastor,' his parents had told him, entreated him to be like his uncle and great uncle and so on down the line of ancestors, and so Edmund had begun seminary towards that selfsame goal as so many Fischs before him. That had been before he'd ever met a charming young lady in the early grip of what everyone had known to be a slow killer. But her polio had not swayed him from her side. Medical school had only focused his energies, showed him the best way to help her when love's medicine needed water to swallow it down. He loved her and she him, and neither that nor the preachers and other doctors could put a stop to polio once it had begun. Never once had Edmund strayed from her side. Only disappearing had separated them. He'd come back, feeling no different than he had felt in the summer of '50 or the four years before then, racing from the confines of quarantine to where he had loved Amy, had tended to Amy, had wiped her brow and prayed with her... Only to find that Amy had gone ahead, finding an eternal escape from the iron lung that'd confined her in her waning years. Gone. Both Amy and the polio, along with the President who Amy had platonically admired for his endurance through his own suffering. All in the earth and turning to dust. 'Polio is a thing of the past' people had told her since his return, alongside 'nobody gets polio anymore.' While his medical mind was glad that there would be no more suffering from that forever disabling disease, he could never bring himself to be truly grateful, for Amy was no more. The love of his life, the person fullest of vitality in all the world, the center of things, the center pole around which the universe rotated. And now the universe swung wildly, wobbling this way and that without the balancing point which it had depended on. Now that all was lost from his past, only one element of anything remained to Edmund: a person he'd met in quarantine building C during those six weeks, a person he would never have called friend; but a person who was now Fisch's last chance. "You asked to see me?" Jordan asked, having stood here, having waited patiently for the past three-quarters of an hour. He certainly hoped Fisch had something worthwhile to offer for this wait. Fisch nodded. "I do. I'd like to offer my services, to you, to your organization." To this Center, whatever it may become. It was at least an alternative to whatever means of mind-numbing existed in this day and age, and it left him the slenderest strand of hope, that he was not completely berift of any company. ~~~ BETWEEN EPISODES 1.6 & 2.1: He was as silent now that he'd finished filling his bag as he'd been while filling it, his room now as plain as it'd been the day he had moved in. Finally, seeing the entreating look, the near-pleading on the tiny-pupilled woman who'd come to relay one of Jordan's orders, "I'm being replaced," Edmund said more to himself than to the young lady who'd seen fit to let him know that Jordan now had a personal physician. That it was another returnee, another '4400' as the press termed them, was of no consequence or appeasement to Edmund. That he was being informed at all, notified that his services would no longer be sufficient to tend to the mogul, that he ascribed more to the mogul's personal secretary than to the lord of the Center himself. "You're not being replaced," the young lady tried again to tell him. What was her name? For someone who hadn't aged those fifty-odd years, Edmund wondered why bits of memory were harder to get at than others. Ah yes, she was Devon. "Mr. Collier simply feels that Mr. Farrell's abilities are needed for the time being, and that your services are still in great demand among all the other returnees here in the Center. "I specialized in something that's gone now," he said, not having the strength in him to wave a hand to silence her, only enough muscle to lift the travelbag of what little he'd aquired and accumulated in his time here, here at the Center. "I thought I could make do with a private practice," with Jordan as my central patient, and all the others as a way for me to fill my time. "This merely proves to me that I was wrong. Better to learn it now, yes?" though that last sentance was half-hearted at best. Few enough people had this number, and few was plenty enough. Jordan had it and Devon did too; and Richard had looked at the number when he'd offered it, thanked him, and left the Center. "If you need a doctor, I'll answer," was all he said before shutting the door after him, leaving her alone in the room. No sooner did he shut the door than he came face-to-face with some young man, likely a beau of Devon's: the woman was attractive enough to have a dozen easily, though Edmund himself had still never wavered from Amy. "Hey," the young man said. "Hi." "I'm Shawn Farrell. My, ah, before was 2001." Edmund, who'd shared confines with the one who'd coined "my before," simply said "Edmund Fisch, 1950," as he figured it was simple manners to reciprocate. "Am I to take it you are Mr. Collier's new physician?" "Well, that's what I wanted to talk to you about...see, I don't want to -" "A man cannot serve two masters," Edmund interupted. "And too many cooks spoil the soup. In either case, both of us cannot be here." "Hey, then I can -" "You are -" wanted? needed? "the one who has been asked for. When I am once more asked for, I will return, if I am able." Managing a semblance of a smile to assure the boy that it was really nothing personal - trying to assure himself of the same thing at the same time - Edmund said, "I wish you every luck," shaking the hand that Shawn put out. That done, he left. Devon came out just then and stood beside Shawn, the two of them watching him go. "Isn't there something we could say?" Shawn asked, thinking that there had to be something. "I'm afraid not," Devon said, thinking that she'd give Shawn a copy of Dr. Fisch's cell phone number, just in case: one must always prepare for all eventualities. ~~~ CODA TO EPISODE 2.5: The door was opened for him by the Center bodyguard who'd sat in the shotgun seat on the drive over, and Edmund could see around him as the bodyguard went back to sit, could see the faces of the vagrants. Clearly these people had been expecting someone else. However much a person tried to ignore the buzzing of conversation that did not involve oneself, it was impossible once back at the Center or anywhere else, to shut it out completely. Even Devon's own mother, who heard next to no gossip from the Center, was right in line with the popular view at the Center: that Devon and Shawn were a couple. Edmund knew better, knew that whatever Shawn's own feelings were, Devon had eyes only for Jordan. Which only made her request all the more puzzling, as unless Jordan was cleaning up one of Shawn's messes, there was really no reason for her to have asked a licensed doctor to have come here; certainly the people here were in need of medical attention, but how or why did Devon get involved in it? Perhaps she was repaying a debt she thought incurred when Shawn had called him up, asking for him to tend to Devon in her medical hour of need; he had come quickly and gladly. And now he was here, unable to avoid hearing the stage whispers of "that's not Shawn" and "who's he?" He exited the car, which waited behind him as he took steps toward the ever-watching group; not large steps, but he had never been good at tiny steps either. One vagrant darted forth, snatching one-handed the book from Edmund's hands, only the barest of touches skin against skin, and dashing back to the security of the group. He knew well what book it was, though if asked couldn't say why he hadn't simply left it in the car: it was what he'd been reading over and over again since he'd first seen it for sale and had scrounged up the money to buy it; it was Jordan's book, '4400 and Counting.' The bookthief got a look on that thieving face and held up one hand, looking at it as fingers flexed, first slowly and then quicker; looked at Edmund even as other vagrants were grabbing his arm, hurriedly yet reverently in their way, "What'd you do?" was the question, "I used'ta have arthritis in this hand," holding up the hand that'd been held aside and uninvolved in the snatching, "real bad." "He's a 4400," said another, one who was testing personal balance without the use of crutches after... "Thank you!" when it worked. He recalled shaking Shawn's hand...and now here he was, passing out healing like a plague. "My talent?" Edmund whispered to himself; to aquire a talent - only the one? or potentially without number? - and let it breed, multiplying like locusts and boils within him, passing to whomever he touched...and also to whomever was touched by those who touched him. "Please," one vagrant begged of him, "what do we do now?" Another answered for him, saying, "I got buddies down on the pier, and don't you know folks out by..." words only half-heard. When the sentance was done, Edmund addressed them, "Bring your friends and their friends, all of you come to the 4400 Center, I bid you welcome." "But - but we can't go there," was the objection. "Why not?" Edmund asked, curious; seeing their coming there as perfectly reasonable. "Fer one, we ain't 4400s." Edmund looked at him: it was the bookthief. "I healed you, you healed him and her, and they healed the others," simplifying what had taken place, but only a little. "You have awakened a part of your inner, but only a part. All of you, have achieved the second key," and he hoped Jordan would agree with his diagnosis. Such a step forward for the Center and the cause it stood for. As the va...no, now friends, though he knew not their names, were all standing around, their eyes drawn to him. "Go," he asked of them, and they dispersed. ~~~~ the end. author's note: I just hope the Center hasn't just aquired an army. |
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~~~~ My fanfic.net page. My geocities fanfic page. | |
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| AbductedWhileDriving | Apr 12 2006, 11:24 PM Post #2 |
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Healer
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Ah, that was very good. I felt a bit sorry for Edward being replaced and stuff... But if it's Shawn, I don't really care!
BWAHAHA, I'm so partial! Heh, hmm, sorry... This was good though, I liked Edward, he seemed like a loyal yet harmless guy. Okay, I need to get one thing straight though, I was reading, and I got a bit confused. I hope I don't come off as stupid when I ask this (I read too fast sometimes) but is his talent "transferable-healing-powers?" Except for that last bit, I found this story totally clear and concise. You did an excellent job, you always do. You wrote well and you gave me a nice look in another original 4400's past. Bravo.
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ZOMG, I love this. XD Thank you, Leob!My Personal Affiliates: ![]() ![]() ![]() Thanks to Leob for the avatar! She's just making everything... ^.^ | |
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| Keenir | Apr 12 2006, 11:40 PM Post #3 |
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Returned
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hi. I'm very glad you enjoyed it. sometimes they just talk to me...and sometimes its a wordless yammering. :D on your guess, you are very close...transfer-and-multiply. *begins work on the revision that will clarify that* many thanks for pointing out my vagueness on that matter. again, many thanks for your fb; and have nice days, my friend. |
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~~~~ My fanfic.net page. My geocities fanfic page. | |
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BWAHAHA, I'm so partial! Heh, hmm, sorry... This was good though, I liked Edward, he seemed like a loyal yet harmless guy. Okay, I need to get one thing straight though, I was reading, and I got a bit confused. I hope I don't come off as stupid when I ask this (I read too fast sometimes) but is his talent "transferable-healing-powers?" Except for that last bit, I found this story totally clear and concise. You did an excellent job, you always do. You wrote well and you gave me a nice look in another original 4400's past. Bravo.
ZOMG, I love this. XD Thank you, Leob!


8:53 AM Jul 11