Chapter Six. Letters Of Lost Faith And Inheritance

Three months had past. Things were nothing more then usual at blue base, Tex however, was putting some things into motion.

Now at twenty three weeks pregnant, she knew that she was having a boy and had some contractors over to discuss her ideas and plans. But she had began to wonder if they were paying attention as they sat at the kitchen table. Their only response for everything was an 'uh-huh' and nod. And to be quite frank, it was driving her mad.

She finally decided it was time to hack into her old, threatening side to get them to pay attention. So she slammed her fist on the table and stood.

They looked at her now at her full attention. "Okay. I want the walls Cobalt," she paused, showing them a sample she'd retrieved from a hardware store. "The floors are to be this," she slammed a sample of tan carpet on the table, guaranteeing their attention. "All over the house----closets, bedrooms, living room..." They nodded, a bit nervous by her behavior. "Are we clear?" They nodded again, noting she seemed more like a drill sergeant, then a customer. "Good. Not in the bathroom or kitchen." They nodded again and she looked back and forth from the two.

From her point of view, they seemed to understand, but as soon as they strolled out the door, she rolled her eyes and leaned against the door murmuring. "Men..."

She looked at the new clock she'd just hung two days ago above her couch. It was one pm and she figured the mail carrier had already been there. He seemed to come early and she wondered if it was because he enjoyed his job. The man was always happy and jolly.

He was older---mid forties---his skin darker from years of days in the sun—on the job, brown hair barely noticeable from under his hat—he considered his good luck charm when avoiding dogs, blue eyes and wrinkles covering his face.

Tex had only run into him a couple of times, but she already knew he loved his job.

She sighed thinking about going down the long, complicated stairs that seemed to be growing more difficult to maneuver everyday. And now she had---for some reason—developed the fear of falling down them and hated even attempting to go down. But what could she do? There was no elevator and she couldn't just become a hermit.

No, that wasn't an option.

She crossed her arms, thinking about it for a moment.

What made them so hard now? They were easy when she'd first arrived----as easy as they could be. Was it because her walk had somehow morphed into a waddle because of her pregnancy? It was the only explanation, she concluded then turned toward the door and then down the hall. She took her time making it down the stairs and then down to her mailbox.

She was pleasantly surprised to see the mail carrier walking over with the mail in hand.

He smiled upon recognizing her. "Hello, Allison." She nodded and smiled as he searched through the pile in his hand. It took him a moment, but he handed her three letters and a magazine.

"Any letters from-" he dashed her hopes of anything from Church with a shake of his head.

"I'm sorry. I didn't see any with I glanced." She felt her heart plummet to the ground, but she tried to hide it. Her eyes told everything.

"Oh…okay. Thanks." He knew that she'd been waiting for her man to write her back and felt horrible he hadn't.

"You're welcome. If I see any letters that say its from him, I'll dash here. Even if its before my shift." She felt honored he would do that.

"Thanks again. Have a good day." He nodded and turned on his heel, walking away. She watched him until he crossed the street, then she looked at her pile of letters.

She had went down those treacherous stairs for this? Bills and a magazine? She sighed and walked back upstairs and into her apartment.

He hadn't wrote her back. Once. How could he have lied about writing? Why? She felt her heart sink, hoping it wasn't somehow her fault. Maybe he wasn't mad, maybe it wasn't his fault. Things could just be busy at the base.

Yeah, it was that, she thought, tossing the letters on the table and walking to bed.

Still, nonetheless, she was disappointed.

And she figured because of her pregnancy, that was why she was about to breakdown.

She did. On the bed, laying staring out the window, tears rushed down her cheeks and her breathing was now in sobs.

What had she done wrong? Why wasn't he responding? Did he hate her or something?

The thought seemed a little unbelievable, but the more she thought about it, it started to make sense. He had forced her to leave without a tear shed, complaint filed, curse thrown. Nor was there any objections on his part. He had left her, that was what she thought now. He just hadn't told her yet, if he ever would.

Her sadness soon turned to anger.

She looked at the diamond engagement ring on her hand, pulled it and off throwing it across the room into the wall by her door. It clunked to the floor.

Without any hesitation, she rose from her bed, grabbed a pen from the kitchen drawer, a piece of paper and envelop from the kitchen also and sat at the table and wrote him a less then heartless goodbye.

Still, with her anger, she cried as she dropped it in the mailbox.

Things in Valhalla were iffy since the beginning of June.

Not exactly the norm for lack of better words.

Everyone was growing increasingly frustrated with Wash's stuck up attitude, Tucker and Sister had been going at it with flirting for at least two months, which caused tension, and Tex's absence to not responding, was flaming up Church and shorting his temper. Caboose had seemed to find a way to annoy Church even more---believe it or not, Doc had been on a high level of trying to change everyone and his team was a wreck. And sooner then later, he decided it would be best just to let them die without his help---hey, they obviously didn't need it.

He was sitting at his desk, gazing longingly at a picture of Tex.

Why wouldn't she write him back? Is she really that mad? Then he sighed, leaning back in his chair and ran his hand through his hair. The chair creaked as Tucker walked in holding the delay mail drop. Forcefully, he set a letter on his desk. He looked up to Tucker and then to the letter. Tucker just glared at him silent. He hadn't spoke to Church for over two months. Or, at least not directly.

He took the letter and read the address.

From command.

He motioned Tucker off and he departed with a scoff.

As soon as he heard the door slam shut behind Tucker, he flipped the letter and tore it opened. It seemed to be in perfect condition an he pulled it out an unfolded it.

Dear Church,

From the Director of Project Freelancer.

I know you've been quite busy with your team in Valhalla and I know they can be quite a "handful" to say the least. And I completely thank you for taking them as your team and putting up with them for the many years you have.

I know you don't have much experience on a real battlefield, but I have a proposal I doubt you'll turn down.

A new war is on the verge. A war between the separatists. They are constantly trying to control our government and we believe they may have broken their peace treaty. We are in the time antebellum. It is really just a matter of how much they will take---how long they wait.

As I sit in my office writing to you, they are—more the likely---planning an attack---their first strike on us.

The UNSC needs your help. Someone of your expertise to help slaughter these alien scum like they have deserved so many years.

If you agree, you will be paid a hundred thousand dollars a year and if you become a special agent: two hundred thousand. Call this number if you wish to join the action, 678-97676 Plus, the last time the aliens attacked, they destroyed earth----wiped it clean. If you fight, you could be saving earth. And everyone on it. Think of Allison.

From the Current Director of Project Freelancer. Doctor Leonard Church.

Church just stared at the letter.

A lot to take in.

A lot indeed.

He seemed to know about the team somehow, he knew what seemed to be a lot about Tex, a new war, slaughtering aliens and saving earth? Not to mention letter was signed Doctor Leonard Church. How could it be?

Sitting on his chair, staring at the letter, everything seemed in slow motion.

The whole thing seemed surreal. He wanted to know why this all seemed to pour on him so quickly----like in a strike of lightning.

Now he was incapable of fathoming it. All his problems were piling up quickly, too quickly. It's like the Tasmanian Devil had came in an wrecked everything just as his life was starting to take shape. Him and Tex were headed to getting married until she found out she was pregnant, then everything just started going against him. The tide had suddenly changed its course in that split second that she had confided. He was happy she'd told him---don't get that wrong---but ever since then, things had...changed. Nothing had ever been the same. And now, all he wanted, was to hold her and tell her everything would be okay. Not go into a war or get involved with the Director. No, that wasn't what he wanted to do.

But with one quick moment., he picked up his comm and dialed the number in the letter.

Somehow, he felt this is what Tex would have wanted.

When the receptionist picked up, he told her about the letter and she dispatched him to the Chairmen, then to the Director. It wasn't easy conversation but everything went well.

After Leonard hung up his call, the mail carrier entered and held up the letter from Tex and set it on his desk before leaving. The Director motioned the guards stationed outside to shut the door and they did. He gently picked up the letter and looked at the returning address.

Still, he felt guilty for taking the action he had. But now, things were set in stone----the plans in action, everyone informed, papers signed. Even if he wanted to---which he couldn't---stop them, he wouldn't be allowed to. Plus, it would cost the board about six million dollars to back out.

Not an option, not anymore. Had he backed out before papers were signed, things would be stoppable.

He just sighed, opening the letter and unfolding. It looked tear stained.

Leonard Church,

You're mad or something, and so am I. I feel resentment to you for leaving me alone at home. I never thought I could hate you this badly, but I do.

I know you're probably agape about this or thinking I'm lying, but I'm not. Maybe I'm just mad, but I'm still disappointed in you. As a father, lover, supporter and everything else your job is. I don't even see how you can sleep at night, knowing that I've been pleading for a response and you never sent one.

I'm having a boy and I promise to never let him become you., never. He will be better then you and me-----everyone we've ever known. And I'll never let you see him. All you can do is watch from the sidelines. If I ever see you again, I promise to beat you to death and then I'll laugh at you well you beg.

I hate you for what you've done to me. Because its obvious you did me and left me. I can never forgive you. Not that you probably care.

Allison.

Leonard sighed folding the letter and shredding it. He had gotten what he'd wanted.

But why did he feel so bad? Because of how you did it, Allison's voice spoke. It was true. You can fix this. Just call and explain everything. He paused, looking at his phone. Everything could be fixed with just two phone calls. Just two.

But...he would lose his job. Everything he ever lived for and had left. Do it, for me, it spoke again and he hesitated before turning away.

No, he wouldn't. Please, the voice pleaded. He felt like banging his head on the table to stop it. But instead, he started to speak aloud. "I can't, Allie, I can't."

"Yes, you can. I know you can."

"You don't understand, Allie-"

"You think too much., just do it." He felt his throat constrict, but instead of arguing more, he pulled out a letter she had wrote him before she had been killed.

It had been more then ten years since he'd first red it, but he felt the same as he had then. His hands trembling, heart in his throat, excitement filling his eyes.

Though he still wasn't sure why he always got this way. It was almost as though he was expecting it to be different. New. Like she was still alive, staying hidden in the shadows, but coming out to leave him mystery letters. It wasn't true----of course-----but it helped him sleep.

He unfolded it an read it.

Dear L.L. Church,

Oh dear god! Where to start?

Well…oh boy. This week has been...Crazy.. Yeah, crazy is a good word.

Settling into base with all these strangers has been hard. They seem nice, but they're kind of creepy. One guy doesn't even talk. All the sergeant told me, is that he's more of the "strong silent" type. I personally think he's a fucking insane killer. I have to say that he freaks the hell out of me.

This other guy is always talking about his crazy girlfriend like he thinks I'm gonna sympathize him or something. I'm serious, this guy thinks I'm going to make a move on him or something. I already told him about you, but he didn't seem to care. Actually, it only got worse then. Now, he constantly is asking me if I'm lonely or if our relationship is good. I've told him a thousand times that I love you and that we're doing great and are happy. But this guy won't leave me alone. I wish you'd come down here and give him a face job for me.

Minus that, the base is fine. Though it would be tons better if you were here.

Aside from that, I wanted to tell you that I love you and I'll come home soon, I promise. Good luck with your meeting with the Chairmen Of The Oversights Subcommittee. I've met that guy by the way. He's kind of a jerk and his accent is so phony. I can tell it's not real. Just something he adds to intimidate people.

Anyway, if you act anything like you usually do, I'm sure everything will go fine and Project Freelancer will be under the works in no time.

Sincerely Yours,

Allie.

He felt tears running down his face.

It was the last letter he would ever receive from her and the closest he would ever get again to communicating.

She had told him about her new base. Sounded kind of shitty, in his opinion, but that was his only conclusion.

He sighed, setting it in its drawer and closed. Then he ran his hands across his desk edge. It seemed perfectly unscathed or scratched or even worn. He reached into another drawer and pulled out a picture of Allie.

His sister was next to her, both with smiles. They were outside his parents' estate. His sister's green eyes seemed to glow with her Black hair blowing in the wind as was Allie's hair. Only he focused on Allie. Her Red hair looking vibrant and clashing wonderfully with the flawless grass behind her, eyes almost reflecting the grasses shade and her perfect teeth showing her joy. One of her peaceful moments, he thought. Though he remembered that had been the day before she had told him she was pregnant. His eyes drew in her beauty before he set it in the drawer and closed it.

Two weeks later around two pm, Tex found herself---once again---at her doctor's on the cold metal table, sitting flipping through the pages of a magazine. For some unusual reason—she realized---the nurse hadn't asked her to change into a gown. Though Tex figured it didn't matter, probably nothing, she thought and flipped the page again before closing it and touching her now bulging belly.

Somehow, she felt better from sending that letter to Church. Whether it was because she needed to let that out or because she no longer felt obligated to send letters. Whichever it was, she was happy. But still...she felt wrong about telling him all of that bullshit. None of it was true.

He didn't just do her and leave. No, that wasn't Church. And she sure as hell wouldn't beat him to death. Or laugh at it, ban him from his child's life or anything else she said. The only true thing, was that she was having a boy.

No, rephrase that: they were having a boy.

Tex nodded happy with herself as the doctor entered. Her face strait as she flipped off the lights without hesitation. Tex blinked in surprise as the doctor sat in her chair in between the sonogram machine pulling it closer while motioning for Tex to lay down.

What was going on today? Everything seemed out of whack. As if an emergency had instantly erupted only minutes before her arrival.

Though despite her doubt, she laid down and pulled up her shirt. The doctor quickly and unexpectedly squirted some gel on the drum of her belly and she gasped from the cold.

Though Morgan still said nothing as she moved the hand piece over her belly everywhere, pausing at certain spots before moving on, only to come back again.

When Tex noticed her returning to a certain spot more then twice----no, more then three----Tex felt her nervous set in and her palms got sweaty as her heart began to race.

What was wrong?

She drew in a breath to speak and opened her mouth when the doctor spoke first. "Have you ever looked into your family history?" Suddenly, she felt sick from her question. Of course not, he wanted to shout, I'm an orphan. But she answered calmly, trying to steady her tone.

"Not really. Why?" The doctor seemed distracted as she turned to her before finishing up the sonogram and flipping on the lights. As the doctor started to speak Tex felt her stomach do flip flops as she feared the worst.

"I bet you never knew your parents, correct?" She wondered how she had known, before clearing her throat and answered.

"No, why?"

"There is really no easy way to say this...but…your mother died while giving birth to you." Tex suddenly felt adrenaline rush into her veins. What about her father? The doctor spoke before Tex could ask. "Then your father went crazy and was admitted to the psychiatric clinic. When they released him though, they found him dead in your parents' house in Houston. He had shot himself in the head. So, with no one left, you were sent to an orphanage. You supposedly have a guardian that was unresponsive to the calls that were left. She may be still out there, for all I know." Tex wondered why this had much to do with her current situation.

"What does this have anything to do with me?" The doctor sigh, as if the explanation was complicated and fatal. Tex felt her heart skip a beat.

"Your mother had an inherited disease called, thrombophilia." She gawked at the doctor and she explained. "The easiest way to explain it, would be to say that it increases your chances of a blood clot forming and cutting off blood circulation to your baby and it would be still born." Tex felt her throat go dry and her body freeze. "Your mother was killed because one of the clots after you were born traveled to her lung." A brief silence followed before she spoke again, seeing Tex's gawk stare with fear fixed in her eyes like a child. "Allison, I'm not saying this will happen to you. I mean, as far as I know, you don't even have any of the symptoms." She stared, waiting for her to continue. "Have you ever had a heart attack? A blood clot?" No, she hadn't. And Tex felt a sigh of relief escape her.

"No."

"Then there is a possibility that everything will be completely normal for you."

"What should I do?"

"Just keep up your habits. They must be good, because you're here now. And just come by every three weeks." Tex nodded and Morgan laughed. "I'm sorry. I've been out of whack today. Me and my nurse had to make a late call last night for a delivery." Suddenly, Tex felt glad it had nothing to do with her.

"Makes sense. Are we done here?" The doctor nodded.

"Yes. Just go schedule a new appointment for three weeks from now." Tex nodded and pulled down her shirt as Morgan left. She looked to her side where an empty chair was. It had been placed for anyone that may come. She felt a ping of jealousy of other women and alone in her silence.

Church should be there. No, needed to be there. To comfort her sadly in his arms, to drive her home with him and whisper encouraging words softly in her ear. But he wasn't.

She stood then, grabbed her purse and slung it over her shoulder, before taking off to the front desk and scheduling an appointment. She got to her car, laying her head back on the seat with her eyes closed.

This wasn't fair. How could she handle all of this alone? It was too much to bear. Now she was going to have to beg Church to come and tell him everything. But what if it didn't work? What if he still didn't come home? Maybe he wouldn't even write back.

She felt tears rush into her eyes while the car began driving her home.

No, he would.

She felt herself wanting to beg. To get down on her knees and beg at his feet to come home. But even then, she doubted he would come home. What had happened? Where had everything gone? They'd once had so much that she had doubted that anything like this would have ever happen. But it had.

She opened her eyes and laid a hand over her belly.

All that could be done now was hope.

She felt the baby kick and she wiped the tears from her face.