Disclaimer: All the characters belong to their respective creators, including Cameron/Eglee Productions and 20th Century Fox Studios. No money is being made from the use of these characters. It is written solely for Dark Angel fans.
Summary: Joshua's reflection. As aired on .com - Original Work page.
Rating: PG-13
Code: Short
iluvaqt's Notes: Look out for 'Cable Hack' - cable_hack - if you think you can help out. e-mail: cable_hack
Thanks for the nitpick, spikeswench. :) I've fixed it.

The shadows told him, midday. And a gentle breeze chased the heat from his skin.

Joshua stood outside, in a shady part of the open courtyard off Oak Street. To his left, he could see some of the abandoned cars in the rail yard. A short walk away was the building where most of X5s through to X8s lived. Warehouses, offices, and labs from Oak Street all the way to Terminal City's main building were now used to house nomlies and X-series. Most stuck to their own kind, however, in one building on Occidental Street, some had started to mingle. Logan used to stay there, to be close to Max, who was most frequently found in the Command Center - certainly helped that she was a leader who never had to sleep.

Joshua smiled remembering the many nights that Max had visited him at Father's house. She'd be all mopey and he'd kiss her forehead saying, "It will be okay, virus bitch goin' down. You'll see." And he was right. Things were working out and he'd helped. Aveta and Dr Shankar said it was his antibodies that helped Logan. He was glad he'd found a way to help.

Looking down at his collection of various scrap supplies, he wondered how he could put his artistic streak to productive use. He hadn't painted in a couple of weeks and he was having withdrawal already.

At least that's what Alec had called it.

"Josh, you need to let that artist loose. Look at you sitting there nerves jumpy like Rianna off the Meth. Thank God. That stuff was turning her into a deadly drama queen. Come on, I'll help you scrounge up some stuff. We gotta get you painting again."

Rianna was one of the youngest X5s in Terminal City, Alec knew her and thought of her as a troublesome little sister - always getting into trouble. Joshua thought that was humorous considering how Max thought of Alec as a 'pain in the butt' big brother.

After seeing Rianna strapped down in the Infirmary last week, crying dry tears and barely breathing, Joshua had no desire to try Methamphetamine or any other drug. Rianna had been using it, as were some of the other X5s in the fight club, to boost their speed and agility. Alec had suspected something was going on, as had the bookie, after two of boys collapsed and started convulsing following a strenuous match. With Rianna, it had been a really close call; she'd fallen off her chair holding her chest, right in the middle of the mess hall. Aveta had agreed not to tell Max about the drugs or the club on the condition that all the drugs on site were surrendered to her. Rianna claimed that in her case it wasn't just being fast in the fights, it was about curbing her enormous appetite. With everyone on strict rations, it was almost impossible to squelch her hunger. She's found it in one of the office cabinets and read the label, ...an appetite suppressant. The other effects had just been a pleasant bonus. For a while anyway...

Putting down the bucket full of old brushes and cloths, he looked at the three-story building across the way. On the second story, where a cracked window was open a fraction, and flapping in the wind, he noticed a soft blue shirt.

He thought of Gem, and the day she'd caught him looking for flowers in the overgrown areas near the parameters of Terminal City. Escaping the musty crowded confines of the main building, he went in search of somewhere quiet and open to read. Gem had startled him and fingered his nose, where the scratch of proof had once been. He smiled to himself, remembering how she'd thrust the baby in his direction, so easily. Trustingly. Such a small little one, but perfect in everyway, ten fingers, then toes, cute button nose and soft gently formed lips. As her tiny fist closed around his index finger, he felt his chest tighten painfully. Everything about that bonding moment reminded him of Annie. Her beautiful smile, her kind and sweet nature, her trusting and comforting words.

He brushed a stray tear that had slipped down his cheek. He'd prove himself, he'd make up for his past. He'd protect Elfie and Gem. He would. No one would ever hurt them. Never. Elfie might not have a father and Gem might not have a partner. But he'd be their protector and their closest friend.

The first time he'd been left to watch Elfie alone, he'd almost been beside himself. But one glance at her peaceful little face and all his apprehension melted away...that was, until the tiny mouth let out the most horrific sound.

His brain processed at a mile a minute as he thought of things to do. If the radio suddenly started screaming static or blaring something unpleasant, he'd just yank out the power cord. Elfie didn't seem to have an off button or a disconnectable power supply. He paced that little office, ready to tear his hair out and use it as earplugs, when his sensitive snout picked up a distinctly strong and disturbing smell. Discovering where the smell was most potent only intensified his sudden distress. "Oh no..."

Frantically looking around for the necessary items, he set about changing the baby. After half a carton of cornstarch, two sneezing fits and Original Cindy's help, and 15 minutes later, Elfie was happy, clean, and dry.

Picking up a scraper, he began to chip away at the mud and peeling paint on the wall. He chuckled to himself, as he remembered what Original Cindy had called him that day.

"You're an uncle, boo."

He sure was an uncle, and a proud one too. Suddenly he looked at his blank canvas in a new light. This would be his outlet. And he knew his muses.

Starting with the sugar-wash that Original Cindy had helped him mix. He scrubbed the wall with a broom, watching as the gray bricks began to peek through the dust and grim that had built up over the years.

Opening the tins of base colors he and Alec had been able to find, he began mixing his paints on his palette. The old cabinet door displayed blotches of green, purple, black and red as Joshua began to attack the wall.

A base of darkness - hurt, pain everywhere. People suffering.
Lost and alone, loneliness, an ocean of nothing, more dark blue.
Hands reaching, begging for help. Big hands, small ones.
Hope, clouds breaking and a dove soaring.
New beginning, life to live on. Elfie.
White and gold, freedom and future.
"Elefteria, Greek for 'freedom'."

It was late afternoon by the time he finished. Standing back he studied the wall. No longer a wall, but a message of hope. A message of understanding.

"You'll see Cindy. Outside people will understand. We're the same. Same fear, same hope, same love...same birth," he said softly. Dropping his brush into the bucket, he smiled up at his replica of Elfie, the golden rays directed at her face. "I'll always protect you, little one."