Title: Welcome to the New Age Chapter 13

Author's Note: For disclaimer, see the prologue.

Author's Note 2: There are a couple Grey's Anatomy quotes in here. I don't own them.

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Chapter 13

Exterior – Mid-Afternoon – Day 67

A groan makes its way up from somewhere deep inside the debris pile. "Elliot?" Olivia calls. "Kathy?"

Another groan makes its way up, shortly followed by Elliot's gruff voice saying, "We're fine. A few cuts and scrapes, but nothing major. You guys okay? How's Oliver?"

Olivia looks over at Alex who gives her a short nod. "He's fine," Olivia says.

The ground starts to tremble with an aftershock, jarring the pile of debris they once called a house. Alex slips effortlessly into the hole she created to find Oliver, quickly covering her son's small body with her own. Pieces of debris fall around them, occasionally pelting Alex's back and shoulders. One particularly large piece of roofing or wall falls, crashing into Alex and knocking her down. She pushes herself up quickly, her left hand going to her abdomen to feel the injury there. She is dismayed to find the piece of wood has been pushed further in.

"Are you okay, Mommy?" Oliver asks, noticing the bloodstain beginning to spread down the front of his mother's shirt.

Alex smiles – well, she tries to, but the result is more of a grimace. "I'm okay, honey."

Oliver uses the debris surrounding him to push himself up and kiss Alex's cheek. "Don't worry, Mommy. Mama will save us."

Tears sting Alex's eyes and she blinks them back quickly. "I know, baby."

Once the shaking subsides, Olivia is on her shaky legs, moving slowly over the piled remnants of their house. Peering into the hole Alex and Oliver are safely housed in, she says, "Don't worry; I'm going to get you out."

Oliver looks up at Olivia, his blue eyes wide and shining with unshed tears. "You gotta hurry, Mama," he says. "Mommy's real hurt."

Olivia feels her blood run cold. "What's hurting her, Olly?"

Oliver looks back at Alex, carefully scrutinizing the wound in her abdomen. "Something in her belly," he says, looking back up at Olivia.

Olivia runs her hand through her short hair, the memory of Alex cutting it quickly replaying in her mind.

…

…

Interior – Kitchen, House – Morning – Day 57

Frustrated, Alex slams the scissors down on the kitchen table. "Do you want me to stab you in the head?"

Olivia turns in her chair and looks up at the blonde, her eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. "Not really."

"Then sit still."

Olivia groans and faces forward in her chair, allowing Alex to continue cutting her hair. Ten minutes later, Alex sets the scissors on the table and holds a mirror in front of Olivia.

Olivia could complain – really, she could – but there's something so innocent, so pure about the smile on Alex's face that she bites back the gasp she was going to let out and mirrors Alex's smile with one of her own.

"What do you think?" Alex asks.

"It's" – Olivia sighs – "Alex, have you ever cut hair before?"

Alex lightly bites her bottom lip and thinks back to the last time she cut anyone's hair. "Once. I was seven, Henry was ten. He put gum in his hair and the nanny was nowhere to be found."

"So you took a pair of scissors and cut it out?"

Alex nods, laughing lightly. "Mom and Dad were so mad."

Olivia takes another look in the mirror, deciding the haircut really isn't that bad, even if half of her hair is shorter than the other half. "You did a fine job, Al."

Alex beams and places a chaste kiss on Olivia's lips. "Now I have to do Oliver's."

…

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Exterior – Mid-Afternoon – Day 67

Olivia drops into the cavern and grins at an excited Oliver. "How do you want to do this?" she asks, kneeling next to Alex.

Alex coughs harshly, too harshly if the pain radiating through her body is any indication, and sits up. "Oliver first," she says, wrapping her arm protectively around her abdomen.

Olivia nods and picks up the little boy. "When you get to the top," she says, lifting Oliver to the edge of the opening, "go straight down to Uncle Elliot and Aunty Kathy. Okay?" Oliver nods and Olivia gives him the final push needed to clear the ledge. He stands up, his legs shaking, and runs down the debris hill.

"Got him, Liv," Elliot yells.

"Thanks, El," Olivia yells back. She sits next to Alex and wrests her hand on the blonde's thigh. "We have to get you out of here."

Alex coughs again and shakes her head. "I'm going to die, Liv."

Olivia tenses up, her stomach churning. "You're not going to die, Alexandra Cabot," she says, reiterating the words Alex said to her just three weeks prior. She presses a kiss to Alex's forehead and whispers, "You're not going to die."

"You're sure?" Alex's voice is weak – weaker, even, than when she had contracted the Virus.

"I am. God, Alex, I'm so sure. You're going to grow old with me, maybe we'll find a couple more kids, and we're going to watch Oliver grow up and have his own kids. We're going to have grandkids, Al. Grandkids! And then we're going to die together when we're old and gray. Together, Alex. But not now. God, not now. But you. Cannot. Give up." Tears fall freely from Olivia's eyes. She clutches desperately to Alex's hand, sending silent prayers to every god she knows of to keep Alex alive.

Alex smiles softly and closes her eyes, resting her head against Olivia's shoulder. "Love you…so much."

"No," Olivia says. "No, you can't die. We're gonna have the best life, Alex. The best life. You and me. We're gonna be so happy. So you can't die, okay? You can't die." Olivia feels rather than hears Alex's breathing become shallow. The blood rushing in her ears is paralyzing; she knows she's speaking but she can't hear the words she's saying. "Alex. It's okay, Alex. Alex, look at me. It's okay, sweetheart. Stay with me. Stay with me. Stay with me, Alex. You're gonna be okay. Alex, you're gonna be okay. Look at me. You're gonna be just fine. You're gonna be just fine. Now, just stay with me." Even as Olivia says the words, she knows they're futile; Alex is gone.

…

…

When Alex opens her eyes she is laying in the middle of a grassy field. She sits up, smiling in the warm, spring air. To her right is a small lake, to her left is a large oak tree with a figure standing underneath it.

She stands up, moving slowly through the field. As she approaches the tree, the figure turns around, a dazzling smile already gracing his features.

"Henry," Alex exclaims, throwing her arms around the boy. No, not a boy. A man. She lets him go and takes a step back, keeping her hands on his shoulders. "You're here."

"I'm here," Henry says, flashing her the same cocky grin her would use when they were kids and they were about to do something incredibly stupid and/or incredibly dangerous.

Alex can't help but smile back. She looks at him, comparing the boy he was to the man he has become. His eyes, wide and blue like her own, still hold that childlike excitement from all those years ago. His golden hair, several shades darker than the platinum it was when they were kids, is shorter now, more like a soldier's. In fact, everything about him screams soldier: the way he holds himself, the shape of his body, the way his smile doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"Army," he says, startling her out of her thoughts.

Alex looks at her brother, pure confusion written all over her face. Had she spoken aloud? "You're a soldier?"

Henry beams at her, instantly snapping to attention. "Corporal Henry Jacob Cabot the Third, at your service."

Alex pulls Henry into another hug and sighs. "Mom and Dad would be so proud."

"We are," a voice says from behind her.

Alex lets go of her brother and spins around, completely unable to hold in the gasp of shock. Standing in front of her are her parents. "Mom," she says, pulling both her mom and dad into a hug, "Dad, what are you doing here?"

"The real question," her father says, "is: What are you doing here, Alex?"

"What do you mean?" Alex asks. "I woke up here."

Her mother and father exchange a look. "You can't be here, Alex," her mother says. "You have to go back."

"Back?" Alex asks, feeling panic rise in her chest. "Back to where?"

"Home," Henry says. "You have to go home."

Before Alex has a chance to respond, a strong gust if air blows in and knocks her down. She winces in pain as her body collides with the ground, and when she opens her eyes, she is alone in a black room. Two lights pop on at opposite ends of the room, each over their own door. To her left is an ornate wooden door; to her right is a simple door.

"Go home, Alex," Henry's voice says. "Go home."

Alex scrambles to her feet and looks around for her brother. "Where am I?" she asks. "Please."

"Go home, Alex," Henry says again.

Alex waits for a few minutes, hoping her family will reappear in front of her. When it is evident that they won't, she wanders over to the door to her left, the smell of fresh cookies, and the sound of laughter attracting her. As she nears the door, the smell turns to burnt flesh and the laughing turns to horrific screams. Decaying hands reach through the door, grasping blindly for Alex. She screams and stumbles back, stabilizing herself against the opposite door.

The smell coming through this door is that of a New England winter – pure and innocent – but it is the sound that truly attracts her: It's Olivia, crying deep all-consuming tears. Alex presses her ear to the door and waits, but she cannot make out any of the words coming through. Curious, she pushes the door open.

And then she is falling.

…

…

The pain radiating through her body is intense and paralyzing. Alex tries to open her eyes, but she cannot get her body to cooperate. Liv? she thinks. Liv, help me. Her pleas go unnoticed by the detective, and try as she might, she cannot get her body to move.

Then she coughs.

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