Warning: Language.

Selma's Note: For a while, I thought about revising "Seeing Beyond the Ego" to include the events of this fragment, but I've been far too lazy.

Ego 1
by Selma McCrory and Deb Cebulski
copyright 2000

Moira strode up to the new, improved, all-human Marianne. "Well, it looks like you've got what you always wanted. How're you feeling?"

Marianne just sat there in a ball for a moment before realizing somebody was talking to her. "Awful."

Moira shakes her head. "I'm thinking you're missing that Kimera self you always hated."

Marianne sniffles. "Not hate, gwamma." (yt)

Moira sat next to her eldest granddaughter. "Are you sure about that, darlin'?" She smiled. "I've known you since you were born, m'dear--try that on someone who doesn't know you as I do."

"Not hate, grandma," Marianne insisted. "Just uncomfy with." Moira sighed. "We all have to deal with 'uncomfy' things now and again, darlin'. Has your Da been able to help you wi' this?"

"Wi' what, gramma?" Marianne asked, looking quite confused.

Moira raised one eyebrow. "Wi' the changes you've been through. Darlin', look at yerself--yer a wreck! Ye've got to get some help wi' this--or I'll have to have some words with yer Da--and Ra'das."

"Talked to Alex," Marianne said, not looking at her grandmother, but instead at the nearest wall. "Talked to dad, I think. I'm not sure."

Moira's face fell, and she radiated concern. "You think? Somethin's definitely wrong. Let's go."

"Go where?" Mari asked, looking up as if suddenly realizing that her grandmother was not a piece of wall.

Moira's eyes were as hard as flint. "We're going to have a chat with your Da. I'm sure your Da will be able to think of somethin' that'll help. I'll not stand idly by and watch you suffer alone."

"Okay, grandma," Marianne said, slowly unfolding herself into a standing position. She stood patiently, making no attempt to move beyond that.

It pained Moira to see her normally fiery granddaughter so tractable. She put an arm over Mari's shoulder and led her from the room.

Marianne let Moira lead the way, making no comment as they passed down the corridors, a sad look upon her face. Gradually, they came to Liam's office, and the door slid open without a sound. Liam was working on something, but looked up. "Gran? Marianne?" he asked. "What's wrong?"

Moira gaped at her grandson. "Liam, have you no eyes in your head? Look at your daughter!"

Liam looked at Marianne, taking in her red eyes and droopiness. "I knew it. She should have stayed longer in medical."

Moira's eyes lit up. "Why was she released in the first place? You of all people should've realised this wasn't normal behaviour for her!" Moira visibly calmed herself. "That's for later. Right now, we need to get Mari back to hospital."

"Right," Liam said, moving slowly around his desk as if to not scare his daughter. He placed an arm around her shoulders. "Come along honey. Gran, she wasn't like this when she came out. I know neither Sa'ana or Be'ant would have released her if she'd been acting like this."

Moira's face filled with fear. "Jesus, Mary and Joseph. Let's get her to hospital, then."

Liam led his daughter out, sighing. "When did she get so big, I wonder?"