Hi!
Never give up on me
I
do come back, eventually. Took me approximately 5 years and 8 months to get this next update up here, but here I am
and you have no idea how grateful I am that some of you are still here. I was actually very much convinced that this place was deserted by now. But here you are. Thank you to all of you who has left a comment. To all of you who have left bumps throughout my years of silence. I've read every post and cherished every word.
And thank you to my editor, my savior, who always got my back and signs up to edit my chapters even though many years have passed <3
FROM FIFTEEN:
But before I could reply, before Max could get up from his seat to take his place next to me and our daughter in silent support, George spoke up. “There’s something else you should know.”
I closed my eyes for a second, willing my body to relax, before opening them to look straight at Willa. Squeezing her hand, I turned us towards George hoping that he had some good news. Maybe something that would support the decision I had just made. Maybe some back up on the fact that going into a war while pregnant was not a good thing.
“We have known of this for some time, but have not wanted to worry you,” George continued and my heart sank.
Of course. This was not going to be good news.
“What is it?” Max asked, rising from his seat.
“The day Willa was born, there were more babies born at the exact same time.”
I didn’t know how to react to that piece of information. Didn’t know which question to ask first.
“On the same day?” Max asked.
“Around the world, a total of eight children - including Willa - were born at 2.47 a.m. on the 10th of November 2022.”
I frowned. Eight children. Hundred of thousands of children were born each day. Surely some of them had to be born at the exact time. That was probably not something out of the ordinary.
“They were all children of gaeas, Antarians and suspected parims. Couples that previously had been experiencing difficulties conceiving.”
Okay. I licked my lips slowly. That piece of information was making this whole thing a lot weirder.
“So…” Isabel spoke up. “This means something, right? It couldn’t only be a coincidence.”
Mr. Evans shook his head. “Right, it can’t be.”
I heard Max’s thought in my head before he said it out loud. An explanation that threatened to break me apart.
“You think the children have a purpose. That they were born for a reason.” I felt the chill go through his body before he finished with, “You think they have a role in the fight against the mayor and his men.”
I put my arm around my daughter. My warm, living, and real daughter. My innocent and defenseless baby girl.
George’s eyes were on Willa as he answered, “Yes.”
____________________________________
SIXTEEN
“But she doesn’t have any powers.” My mouth was dry, my heart beating in my throat. “She doesn’t share our connection. She’s just a child.”
“Mommy,” Willa said quietly, making my eyes instantly shift to her.
“Yes, baby?”
Her hand was warm in mine as she squeezed it tightly. “I want cocoa.”
Tears sprung up in my eyes so suddenly that I couldn’t stop them. Sniffling them back, I nodded, “Of course, honey. Let’s go make you some cocoa.” I looked up at the others around the room and said, “I need some time.
We need some time.”
“Of course, Elizabeth,” George said warmly, and that was all the approval I needed.
Even though I was locked up in my mind, drowning in anxious thoughts and fearful emotions, I was highly aware of Willa’s eyes on me the whole time. I was also extremely aware that she was not acting like herself.
Up until today, she had been very much a child. A regular four-year-old. Playing, laughing, throwing tantrums, talking your head off, playing with her dolls, loving the swing set. She was doing normal human stuff.
Like going to bed at the same time every night. Always taking the favorite stuffed animal with her whenever we would travel a long distance by car. Listening to the same song over and over again. Whatever song she liked at the moment, that is. Because that tended to change about once every week. As things do.
She would scrape her knees on the gravel driveway outside of our house and would come crying to her parents for comfort. And like a regular human girl, she would get a bandaid. She would not be healed by her alien father. She was treated like a human. Because she was.
She did not possess any alien abilities. She could not heal the family cat when it had gotten into a fight with the neighbor cat. She could not float herself off the bed. She could not make the lights flicker or turn them on and off. She could not see auras or affect anyone’s emotions.
So why would she have to be pulled into an alien war when she was only alien by genetics?
But today, Willa was acting differently. Today, she was quiet and contemplative. She was watching. Silently. While I was absent-mindedly stirring the cocoa into the milk, she was watching my face the whole time. Her warm small body was standing very close to mine, making my heart bleed with love.
I knew that she was worried. Because she looked exactly like her father when he was worried. But she did not seem scared. Which probably was not an odd thing, come to think of it. Why would she be worried? She did not know what all of this was about.
To her, Max’s family was just her family. It was her uncles and aunts. Her grandfather and great grandfather. We had never really discussed the alien complement in her paternal family. We had not needed to, yet. Max was not accustomed to using alien abilities out in the open, so I was rather certain that Willa had never seen his alien side.
The only thing that might stand out from a regular human family were the meetings. But Willa usually didn’t pay much attention. She would usually play with something in the corner of the room, closing herself off from the boring conversations around her.
Besides, the meetings had been few and far between anyway.
But she had been alert today. Present. Which was making me worry. How much was she really aware of? Had she been more aware than Max and I had assumed?
“Mommy? Can I have the cocoa now?” Willa interrupted my train of thought, alerting me to the fact that I had been spinning her cocoa for a much longer time than required.
I shook my head, attempted a smile smile, and sighed, “Of course, honey.” I handed her the cup. “My mind is somewhere else today.”
She took the cup and gingerly set it down next to her on the table before redirecting large brown eyes to me. Her inquisitive expression had me ask, “Is something wrong?” I hitched my chin towards the cocoa. “You wanted cocoa, right?” Maybe I had misunderstood her request while my mind laid scattered around me.
She nodded silently, then reached over and took my hand. Her hand was soft and warm. “Why are you scared, mommy?”
A short laugh of denial got stuck in my throat, surprised by her direct question. I quickly cleared my throat, “I’m not scared, baby.”
“You were yelling. At Papa and Grandpa.”
I nodded. “Yes. I guess I was.” I inhaled deeply before crouching down in front of her, putting her face at level with my own. “Listen to me, Willa. You and daddy are the most important people in my life. I love you both so so so much.”
She looked at me seriously, eyes not blinking once.
“I found out some horrible things today. Things that I want to protect you and your daddy from. Because those things can be dangerous. That’s why I was angry with Papa and Grandpa. I want us to be safe and have fun.”
I attempted an encouraging smile at her while saying ‘fun’ and she caught on to it, her mouth blossoming into a beautiful smile.
“Right?” I asked, intentionally poking her stomach, tickling her.
She laughed loudly, in that carefree manner typical of young children. Her laugher was contagious and I continued seeking out her most ticklish spots, repeating “Right?”
“No, don’t,” Willa laughed, throwing her arms around me in a warm hug, effectively cutting off my tickling attempts.
Our laughter ebbed like a long slow sigh and we grew quiet in each other arms. I hugged her close, maybe tighter than what was comfortable, and breathed in the smell of her hair.
“What’s going on here?”
We both looked up with smiles at the familiar voice, my heart still skipping a beat at the sight of him. How he was only getting more handsome the older he got.
Unfair.
He was smiling, too, leaning casually against the doorframe.
“Just getting some cocoa,” I replied, watching as Willa picked up the mug from the counter, “Careful, it’s hot.”
I felt his eyes following the movement, heard his love in my thoughts while feeling it resonating through my bones. He was the love of my life. My anchor. My knight in shining armor.
I had watched him grow and mature, shouldering the role of becoming of father. Had watched him grow into a man. He had always been strong, had always been mature for his age due to the things he had to experience when he was just a boy, but there had been a significant change in him when Willa had been born.
In me as well, I guess. Becoming a parent shifted your focus. Suddenly you were responsible for someone’s life and well-being. You were responsible for not only tending to their most basic needs, but to teach them about life. To teach them to talk, walk, ride a bike and brush their teeth.
Becoming a parent had filled us not only with an indescribable unconditional love but also paralyzing fear. I imagine that every parent worried about their children. Every parent was afraid of their children seriously hurting themselves or acquiring some lethal disease. But in addition, we had to try and accept the very real risk of our children being forced to take part in a war of inconceivable circumstances. That an alien society would start dictating rules for our children that would somehow cause them harm.
Since we had annihilated Command, the regulations of the Antarian society had changed. Antarians were no longer allowed to use human beings for their personal gain. For instance, gaeas were now to be left alone. In other words, it was prohibited to use gaeas as batteries.
The rebels’ proposal for a new society - after taking out Command - was essentially to blend in with the humans. They were not to think of themselves as superior. They were not to exert mind control or memory wipes, unless a human being had accidentally stumbled upon some information revealing the alien origin of the Antarian.
The Antarian race should remain concealed from human beings. This was a precaution as the human civilization was not yet deemed ready to face the truth of aliens walking amongst them.
In essence, Antarians and humans would co-exist in peace. Goodness was encouraged, and so alien abilities that could help the human race were supported.
I looked at my handsome alien, in the midst of his final years of medical school, and felt proud of him using his abilities to help human beings, knowing that he would - unbeknownst to his patients - use his powers to remove even the ailments that human science had not yet found a cure for.
We were finally at a place in our life where we felt content. We were both in school, we had our own home, we had a beautiful daughter and everything was falling into place.
Then reality slaps you in the face.
And our daughter decides to join said reality by saying, “Are the bad people coming, Daddy?”
I froze, my eyes landing in horror on Max’s face. Ever the expert at hiding his reactions, there was only a small flicker in his eyes - unmatched by the fear I was getting over the telepathic wireless highway - before he crossed the short distance to Willa and hunched down in front of her. Pushing an errant strand of hair behind her ear, he looked her straight in the eyes and softly asked, “What do you mean?”
“The black men,” Willa clarified.
The cold was spreading throughout my body, and I had to clear my throat before asking, “What black men, honey?”
“All black. Like the man that hurt you and daddy. Made you go to sleep.”
Made you go to sleep.
Her sentenced echoed loudly throughout both of our minds. My mental voice was hesitant and faint as I asked Max,
Does she mean when Command killed us? How would she know? We’ve never told her.
I don’t know, he replied slowly, bewildered.
Trying my best to make my voice sound as normal as possible - but the audible creaks breaking through - I asked, “Where did you hear about the black men, Willa?”
Willa dropped her eyes, looking at the cup of cocoa in her small hands, still chubby from the toddler stage, while answering, “They’re in my room.”
Coldness was freezing my heart, pausing my heartbeat, numbing my breathing.
Max carefully removed the cup of cocoa from Willa’s and fished up her gaze from the floor with the gentle press of his index finger under her chin. “There are no black men in your room, sweetheart. Mommy and I wouldn’t let anyone into your room that you don’t know.”
I cleared my throat, kneeling down next to Max, my hands suddenly clammy with cold sweat. “Did you have a dream, maybe? Were the men in your dream?”
Willa looked up at her parents. Large brown eyes slightly squinting in concentration and answered in that nonsensical lightness that only children possessed, “Yes. Yes, in my dream.”
“Was mommy and daddy in your dream as well?” Max pressed on gently. Cautiously.
Willa nodded, worrying her bottom lip, her eyes now scattering around the room. She looked uncomfortable. My heart froze with guilt. I was feeling ashamed for being in that battle years ago. For being around horrible creatures in a frightening place. I was feeling guilty about dying. About my daughter seeing it. But none of that made any sense. Not my feelings of guilt. Not the fact that she had somehow
seen our past.
But, however it had happened, it was scaring her. Something I had done in my past was haunting my daughter in the future.
I reached out and brushed my hand down the gentle curve of her soft cheek, pausing to move my thumb back and forth across her skin. Trying to sooth her as much as myself. Wanting to feel the warmth of life from her body, reassure myself that she was still here, that everything was okay.
I had been able to separate the dark world of the alien business from my life. We had a normal human existence. With studying, work, daycare, activities, pets, birthday parties, dentist appointments and managing that financial puzzle. The only alien factor in our lives since we left Roswell was our connection. But it had become second nature to us by now, a part of us. Something we barely actively reflected upon.
To suddenly place Willa in our alien world was terrifying. She didn’t belong there. Her pearlescent laughter, her shiny eyes, her small hands and feet, her careless play, her concern for her pet cat. None of it belonged in the dark alien world with real monsters and torturous activities. A world where little girls were not spared just because they were young.
The need to protect her from that world crashed down over me like a forceful wave, and my old acquaintance - Mr. Panic Attack - came back for a visit. He hadn’t been around since Max and I had moved several years ago.
With the pressure increasing over my chest, two sets of brown eyes moved to my face. Max calmly took my hand in his, squeezing it while telepathically reminding me to,
Breathe, while Willa took my other hand and encased it within her two much smaller hands.
“Mommy?” she asked quietly, frightened.
“I’m fine,” I gasped, trying to find both an encouraging smile and oxygen, before adding, “I’m fine.”
I felt the energy simmer between Max and I. Felt him redirect it towards my body, towards my chest. And I felt the warmth from Willa’s hold become warmer, warmer than normal body temperature, and spread up the length of my arm.
The feeling did nothing to ease my troubles breathing. Neither did Max’s discovery of the same novel phenomenon as his feelings, a mixture of surprise, shock, and fear fed into the connection.
Willa was feeding energy into me. Into the connection Max and I shared.
Only a second or two passed before I found my composure and pulled Willa into my side, into a hug. The pressure over my chest exploded into tears as I buried my face into my daughters hair. Willa softened in my arms, folding into my hug naturally, as Max put his arms around Willa and I.
Does this mean that she has abilities now? I asked Max through the connection.
His arms tightened their hold around his small family.
Yes. His essence was trembling. Not wanting to know what this meant. By cautious nature, being unable to not think the worst.
I have no idea what this means.
How old were you when you started using your abilities?
Max kissed the side of my head.
I don’t even remember. My father has had me practice my abilities for as long as I can remember. Solemn regret crept into his thought processes.
I think I was 8 when I first attended a session with you.
A chill went through me.
A session?
To test your blood for the gaea status.
Anger rushed through me. Nowadays, having acquired the viewpoint of a parent, this infuriated me.
They had you attend those sessions when you were only 8, to heal me?
I got a memory flash from him, before he could stop himself. A memory of myself, a small girl at the time, completely paralysed. Catatonic. At the hand of Philip Evans, in order to take my blood.
“Max,” I whispered sadly, his memory of feeling like a monster all those years saturating our connection.
“Max,” the darkness of a man’s voice overrode my whispered version. His name spoken with exhortation and surprise.
Our little family pulled apart, disentangling our small unit. But before we did, we saw the light. The light that encased the three of us. The white, blinding light.
Which had been seen by Max’s father in the doorway.
“Is there something you would like to share, Maxwell?” Mr. Evans asked.
Willa looked up at her grandfather, bounced happily to her feet and announced, “Grandpa! I got cocoa!”
This distracted Mr. Evans for a moment, enabling me a second with Max’s mind.
What do we tell them?
His eyes were soft, sad, when he met my worried gaze. I didn’t need the connection to know what he was feeling, his expressive eyes were saying it all. He was mourning Willa’s childhood. Her innocence. The barrier between our daughter and his world had been demolished. There were feelings of fear there. Of what this might mean. And the most pronounced feeling was his desire to keep this a secret. Keep it away from the rest of his family. Because he didn’t trust what they would do with the information. He was afraid that Willa would suddenly become a part of their battle plan were they to find out that her abilities were awakening. The stream of emotions I felt meant his reply was not surprising.
Nothing.
And I was not one to object. The last thing I wanted to do was to provide the army of rebellion out there a new weapon to use. They hadn’t been too careful when using Max and I. We had been involved in their plan from a very young age - from the second we were born, really - thus, the risk of them doing the same to Willa was high.
“What do you mean, Philip?” I asked, turning my head to my father-in-law.
Mr. Evans frowned, his eyes telling me as little as possible, as usual, but his stance strongly signalling his disapproval. “I’ve seen that light around you before. Around you and Max. Several times. But is has never included anyone else. Even if other people has been in your proximity. It attaches to the surface around
your bodies, no one outside of that.”
“Your point being?” Max asked roughly, getting to his feet, simultaneously handing Willa the cup of cocoa while reaching his other hand out for me to help me to my feet.
His fingers curling around my hand was stable and comfortable. Us against Them. Our family first. And we would lie to whoever necessary in order to protect our family. Especially our children.
“Don’t play coy with me, Max,” Mr. Evans said, the cold disapproval dripping from his voice.
I deeply doubted that we would be able to fool Mr. Evans. Mr. Evans, who was an expert at reading auras and energy fields, who knew Max and his abilities like the back of his hand, who probably had been on guard for the length of Willa’s life - certain that it was only a matter of when and not
if she would develop alien properties.
I straightened, feeling the whispers of a lioness brush through my soul, lifted my chin defiantly and said cooly, “Leave Willa out of this.”
Mr. Evans narrowed his eyes at us, seemingly ignoring how Willa was snaking her hand into his much larger hand by his side.
“I needed a moment before,” I said, trying to divert the situation. “I’m assuming that we should get back out there. The meeting is still running..?”
Mr. Evans didn’t blink while he met my eyes and I felt a shiver down my spine. So what if Willa had developed powers? She was off limits! I defiantly jutted my chin out further towards Max’s father, standing my ground, silently.
“Willa, let’s get back out there,” Max said, pulling at the hand interlinked with mine while he bent down slightly to put small pressure between the small shoulder blades of Willa to encourage her forward.
Mr. Evans took a step to the side, blocking the doorway. “Max.”
Max looked up at his father, while I stepped up to Max, closing the distance between our bodies.
“This is serious. If she’s developing abilities you need the help from the community. From us. You have no training in how to train her. How to help her deal with this.”
Irritation was flowing through our connection. Unclear if it was coming from me or Max.
“You leave her at daycare, correct?” Mr. Evans continued. “What if something happens there? What if she sets something on fire? If she starts lifting toys off the floor with only her mind?”
A knot was building in my stomach and I looked up at Max’s profile. At his well-chiseled jaw, tense with stubbornness.
He has a point, my increasingly frightened mind whispered to Max. He flinched at my observation.
Mr. Evans noticed. If Mr. Evans had been less of a closed book, he might have donned an expression of triumph. He knew that he was getting through to us. “We have never left our children with humans, before you decided to do it with her. I have been trying to tell you this. Now it’s even more important that you listen to what I’m saying.”
“There are Antarians at the daycare,” Max answered tightly. “You know this. You placed them there yourself. If something were to happen, they would just wipe the staff’s mind anyway.”
The face of one of the women working closely with Willa, who both Willa and I loved, flashed through my mind and my heart sank at the hint of the Antarians wiping her mind.
“Let us help you, Max,” Mr. Evans said and looked to me. “Liz, don’t be stupid.”
My cheeks flushed with indignation and I swallowed dryly, “Nothing has happened. Nothing is different.” I reached down and purposefully disentangled my daughter’s hand from her grandfather’s, shifting her hold over to my hand, “Come on honey, let’s go back into the living room, okay?” I looked up Mr. Evans. “I appreciate your concern, but this is a private family matter and I’m asking you to please let us handle it on our own.”
With that, our little family unit brushed past the hardened alien, and moved back into the living room.
TBC...
that's a good use for AI. And yay for the 3 chapters!! Can't wait to read them.
with some changes to the end.
I hope they'll find a solution to keep her safe. I want Phillip to back away from the situation too but he has a point...