Author's note: Jackson and Jamie are still in Portland, Maine after the disaster of the Noah Objective, and have to deal with the aftermath, what to do next, and the question of Clementine.
Aftermath
It had been a month since the TX-14 gas had irrevocably changed the world. Debriefings, recriminations, disbelief, anger, despair… and they were getting nowhere. No one in power wanted to hear the truth. Neither the government and nor the military had any use for them, refusing to publicly acknowledge the threat to mankind that had arrived with the Noah Objective. Jamie was sick of it.
So, it seemed, was Jackson.
"I'm going home," he said. "To Botswana."
"To do what?" she asked, surprised at the sudden announcement.
"I… don't know." Jackson scratched absently at his cheek. "Actually I have no idea what I'm going to do now."
"Huh," Jamie said. "Me neither."
After being singularly focused on their mission for so long, the whole team was at a loss. Suddenly irrelevant. Not needed, not wanted. Unsure of the present, let alone the future. Trying in vain to move on from the past.
It was an unfamiliar, uncomfortable existence for all of them. Especially when everyone around them was so relieved that the animals were behaving normally again. The general population went back to their lives as best they could before the Incident. It was those who knew better who could not.
"You'll miss Abe," she said.
Jackson gave a slight shrug. "He has more important things to focus on now. And better that Dariela and the baby get the medical care they need here. At least for now."
Jamie thought on this for a moment. "Did you ever think about staying too?"
"No," he replied, his resolve was steadfast. He knew she would understand and didn't bother explaining why staying in Portland was the last thing he wanted to do. Or Boston. His home was in Africa.
"It never snows there, right?" she asked after a while.
"In Botswana? It can drop to below freezing at night in the winter, but no snow."
Jamie stared at her bare feet at the space where her big toe had been. She still wasn't used to the sight, and wondered if she ever would be.
"I hate the cold," she murmured.
"It doesn't snow in LA either," he pointed out.
"So?"
"So, don't you ever think about going home, too?"
She had barely given it a second thought. Not now. Not alone. "There's nothing for me there. I have no reason to go back."
"What about Clem?" Jackson asked, bringing up the topic she had artfully avoided for weeks.
Jamie looked away.
"We have to talk about it sometime," he said. "I heard there's a special foster program to place all the orphaned children. And that she's on the list."
Jamie nodded. It was for the best. Max Morgan had cited his nomadic work life when faced with raising his only granddaughter, but promised to visit her and be executor of Clementine's estate until she came of age. There was no other close family they could locate.
Jackson smiled briefly, but there was no joy in his eyes. "Do you think that's what Mitch would have wanted?"
"Mitch is dead," Jamie said sharply. "And she's better off with a family with other kids than with me. Or you. Except you didn't mean you, did you? I'm the one who's supposed to step up and be responsible for a teenager."
"I didn't say that," Jackson said, holding up his hands in surrender. "And she's eleven."
The scowl did not disappear from Jamie's face. A heavy silence fell between them until she eventually spoke again.
"I never wanted to have children."
She glanced at him, waiting for a reaction, but there was none. She gulped back sudden, unwanted tears.
"Now there's no chance of that, is there?" she asked quietly.
"For any of us," Jackson murmured, not meeting her eyes.
"She's better off without either of us," Jamie continued, more to convince herself than him. "I'm tired, Jackson. Bone-numbingly tired. I can't look after Clem, not now. I don't have it in me."
"You don't owe me an explanation."
"I need to rest. I need to work out what the hell I'm supposed to do now. I can't do that and look after a grieving child."
"I know, I get it," he said calmly.
She pressed on, not believing him.
"Is it so wrong to want a little peace after everything we've been through?"
"No, it's not."
"Or companionship?"
"Is that what this is?" Jackson looked over at her, keeping his voice light to mask the pain they both felt.
"Forget it," she said and abruptly sat up, swinging her legs off the bed and searching for her clothes.
"Hey, I just meant –"
"It's fine, don't worry about it."
"Jamie, come on –"
But she was already pulling on her jeans.
Jackson sighed and lay back down against his pillow. He didn't want to fight. And the last thing he wanted to do was talk about what was going on between them. Her warm body, lips laced with whatever she could find in the mini bar, provided a brief reprieve from his thoughts. And as Jamie had instigated their extra curricula activities a week earlier, he figured it was what she needed as well.
Just a few brief moments, trying to feel something else, anything else, from the usual emptiness. But it was never long before the hollowness returned.
She pulled on her t-shirt and sweater and shoved her bra in her pocket before crossing the hotel room in search of her socks and shoes. When she sat to pull on her boots she finally stopped and looked over at him.
"I'm not a bad person," she said.
Jackson sighed again, and sat up against the headboard. "I never said you were."
"But you were thinking it."
"No, I really wasn't," he countered gently.
Her face softened and she felt tears threaten her eyes again. She knew she was letting Mitch down. But ever the pragmatist, Jamie knew she couldn't be responsible for raising a child who had lost her mother, step-father and absent but much loved father in such a short space of time. Not when Jamie felt his loss so keenly as well.
Jackson watched her intently before he held out his hand to her. "C'mere."
Jamie paused before dropping the boot she was holding and moving to sit on the bed. She swallowed hard before meeting his gaze cleared-eyed, emotions buried once more. Jackson took her hand in his.
"Come with me to Botswana," he said simply.
Jamie immediately frowned and pulled away. "Jackson, you don't have to –"
"Come with me," he insisted, cutting her off. "You can rest. We both can."
Jamie smiled slightly as she shook her head. "And then what?"
He wished he could provide the answers she needed. He wished he could tell her that they'd feel better eventually, not lost and alone like they did now. He wished he could promise that they'd forget Mitch and Chloe and that everything would be okay.
But Jackson didn't have the answers, any more than Jamie did.
"I have no idea," he said.