Earth's Children

Summary: The parents of Harper tell their tale of life and love in Post-Commonwealth Earth.

Author: Luna Sealeaf

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: Again, I do not own any Andromeda characters, so don't sue me, etc. Nor do I own the lyrics of the songs both parents sing. I'm not making any profit, and since my total life savings accumulates to a whopping 24 bucks, there's really no point in suing me.

Archive: It didn't occur to me before, but if anyone wants to they can. I dunno where this fic would fit in though...

"Humans are so caught up in their emotions for one another that they seldom have time or energy for anything else. Such as defending their planets."

-Unknown (believed to be Nietzschean) AFC 104

Episode Nine

My first few days of fatherhood were tiring, but good. Once Josephine was able to walk around we returned to our own house. I remember how we'd lay the baby down on the bed and simply stare at him, adoring every part of him. Seamus? Where had Josephine come up with the names? It wasn't bad; though I was a little disgruntled that she didn't bother to discuss names with me. I was too relieved that both she and the child were recovering to care too much. For awhile, during her labor, I was certain I had lost her. It was the most terrifying moment of my life.

That first night with just the two –no, three of us, is still embedded in my memory. The baby was crying and I was afraid he would disturb his mother, who was resting on our bed. Since he had come earlier than expected, all he had was a pile of blankets to sleep on. Awkwardly I picked him up, trying to understand why he was making so much noise.

"He's probably just tired," Josephine called weakly from the other room. I nodded, accepting her knowledge, and shifted so the baby rested in the crook of my arm. My son. The thought still boggled me.

"How come he doesn't just go to sleep?" I wondered out loud, aware (not for the first time) of just how little I knew about children.

"Because he's a baby Evan. Most babies don't know they're tired." The weariness in her voice worried me, and I closed the door to our room, hoping this would stifle the child's cries to her ears. A thought occurred to me, and it brought a shy smile to my face. To be honest, I didn't really know what I was doing, but perhaps, well, it was worth a try, right? So after taking a deep breath, and trying very hard to not feel like an idiot, I started to sing the lullaby my parents had once sung to me:

"Looking down through a tide of no return, lies a field where the crops no longer grow. Parched is the land, strangled and be damned, there for the grace of God go I..."

I continued singing the words softly, and by the time I'd finished, his eyes had closed and he appeared to be asleep. For a moment I just looked down at him, still amazed how tiny he was. Carefully I lay him back down among the blankets before returning to the bedroom, where Josephine was staring at me with a strange look on her face.

"What?" I asked as I undressed, trying to look nonchalant.

"What kind of lullaby is that?" She folded her arms incredulously.

"What's wrong with it?" I asked, a little defiantly

"You'll depress him with words like that!" She answered hotly. I shrugged and decided it was probably best to simply not answer.

The next day I was excused from working in the fields so that I could take care of Josephine and Seamus. Throughout the day the others came by to poke their head inside and ask how the baby was doing. Orla stopped by for a time, bringing Brendan with her and laying him down by Seamus. As the girls talked, I stared at the two children, and suddenly laughed. Josephine and Orla halted their conversation to give me a worried look.

"I just realized something," I explained in an attempt to assure them of my sanity, "Brendan and Seamus, they're practically brothers. Think about it, they're cousins on both sides of their families." They agreed and exchanged smiles. It was a little strange, but the thought gladdened me. Later that night, as Seamus was crying (again) Josephine gathered him in her arms and started to sing softly. I had been working on his cradle and looked up.

"Well let's hear it then. If my lullaby was so depressing, what are you singing?" Josephine ignored me except to raise her voice so I could hear her.

"The moon-cradle's rocking and rocking, where a cloud and a cloud go by. Silently rocking and rocking, the moon-cradle out in the sky...

But the bond woman down by the boorie, sings with a heart grown wild. How a hundred rivers are flowing between herself and her child..."

The song was beautiful, I'll admit that, and it certainly sent the baby to sleep. But I failed to see how it was any happier than my song. As usual, Josephine felt no need to explain her reasoning to me, and we agreed to alternate lullabies each night.

The days passed quickly, faster than I could have anticipated. Between the new baby, as well as my nephews and niece, and bringing in the harvest, it was no wonder that there was little time for anything else. One night that I remember clearly was when I came home to find the cradle I'd started completed and rocking gently in front of the fire.

"Who had time to make it?" I asked, going over the fine handiwork. It was as good, if not better than the design I had planned to make. Josephine was sitting on a stool by the fireplace, and she grinned at my admiration.

"I did of course. There wasn't anything else to do when he was sleeping," I looked over at my wife in surprise.

"I didn't know you could make things like this," She shrugged modestly, no doubt suppressing the urge to gloat for my benefit.

"My Dad taught me a lot of stuff before he died. Besides, it wasn't that hard to figure out." I shook my head in wonderment at my wife. It turned out that she had quite a talent for woodwork; while I was out in the fields with Liam and Devin; she often fixed up the house or made other small gadgets. As she regained her strength however, she had little time for such extra activities. Fall came and as always there was the work preparing for winter. The twins, now nearing three years old, were constantly running around as we were outside. Siobhan delighted in picking grass, declaring them 'flowers' and presenting the bouquet to the nearest person she could find, or going to sprinkle the plants on one of the babies' foreheads. Declan, quieter than his sister, tried to imitate his father as he worked.

Liam had made him a small shovel and a few other tools, and the little boy would quietly find a patch of ground and copy whatever his father was doing. Liam would pretend not to notice, but the smile that softened his face was visible to all of us. Although Lughna loved the two children to no end, she also offered to watch Brendan and Seamus often. The wistful looks she gave them were heart-wrenching. We all knew she wanted more children of her own, but that she wouldn't be able to. Still, for the most part, the winter, and then the spring, passed by with happiness and cheer. Siobhan's bossiness made us all grin, and Declan's silent rebellion against his older sister provided us with much amusement. The babies too were growing, Brendan practically a year old and Seamus growing more each day.

Surely my memory, dimmed by age, has dulled the sharper reality of our lives back then. I'm sure there were days of worry and exhaustion, days when one of us fell ill. But it's hard to recall those moments, for they passed quickly. The only thing that marred that year of happiness was when reports of Nietzschean raids would send us to the small underground chambers in fear. As spring came, more reports of Magog attacks swept through the village as well.

But even these had little affect on us; our small sphere of peace and happiness seemed nigh impossible to broach. If only that had been the truth.

None of us were overly concerned; Josephine herself was confident, assured by some strange vision or feeling that Seamus would grow to adulthood.

"You'll see Evan; our son's going to survive. I won't allow anything to change that," She lifted him, now almost eight months old into the air and cooed at him softly. Her words, strangely enough, sent a chill through me.

"You shouldn't speak of such things. It'll bring bad luck," I said softly, watching as Seamus laughed with delight at being in the air. Still, I was relieved at how strong he'd grown in the past few months. His eyes had cleared as he'd grown, and they were now a bright blue, similar to my own. The curls of his hair were a dirty blonde, dark at the roots and growing lighter towards the edge. Sometimes, I would wonder to myself if I'd live to see him grow up. These thoughts tormented me; faith battling my logic. I was only twenty-four, not a child, but still young, at least by the old Commonwealth standards. How old were my parents when they were killed? And that was in the isolated hills of Ireland. Josephine's parents had died when she was just ten. Lughna's parents had died when she was just a child as well, though she didn't speak of the details. To stop the tirade of these thoughts, I would close my eyes and force myself to concentrate on the present. I had my strength and my health. There was no reason why I shouldn't live to see my grandchildren. None at all.

So a year passed; we celebrated Seamus' first birthday with a picnic, making an overall holiday of it. I played my tin whistle and everyone danced, just as they had Liam and mine's wedding. Only this time, little Declan and Siobhan joined in, holding their parents' hands and trying to mimic their steps. To the side, Brendan and Seamus sat on a blanket spread out over the grass, watching their parents and aunts and uncles, laughing though they were too young to understand what was going on.

This was perhaps, my favorite memory to look back on. The sunshine making the day bright and clear; the happy faces of my brother and sister, as well as Devin and Lughna. My beautiful Josephine, turning and dancing with a grace I would never have. The little ones all at peace, happy and content.

With such a beautiful day, how could any of us portend the dark shadow that would fall over my family? Surely it was impossible that we wouldn't spend every Midsummer Day like this, together and whole.

But as harvest time passed, Siobhan and Declan now old enough to assist in the chores, a feeling came over us all. There had been no more raids from the Nietzscheans, and the few villagers that had ventured to the city for news and supplies didn't return. A hushed atmosphere descended over the village, and we went there as little as possible. Lughna was the only one, venturing to take Declan and Siobhan to the little school in town. The rest of us continued to work while settling in for the winter.

One afternoon, as Liam, Devin, and I were stacking food into the cellar when the sky darkened. Orla, who was watching Brendan and Seamus up by the houses, screamed suddenly, bringing Josephine and Lughna running outside to see what was the matter. Thinking something had happened to one of the babies, the three of us ran up the hill as well. But Orla wasn't looking at either boy; instead her pale face was staring at the sky, a look of terror across it.

"Oh god..." I hear Devin, beside me, exclaim softly. He and Liam were looking up and I followed their gaze. My blood ran cold and my heart was paralyzed with fear. Filling the sky were hundreds of ships. Strange ships, but there was only one possibility for what they could be.

Magog.

"Everyone, quick," Liam didn't need to elaborate, Josephine rushed forward, hastily grabbed Seamus, who was now screaming, and raced for our small hiding chamber. With several layers of grass and dirt it was difficult to lift the door, and I ran to help her. Then again, the layers also served to hide our scents. If Magog or Nietzscheans were able to smell us, they would hopefully assume it was our houses and belongings that carried our odors.

As I rushed forward, Devin doing the same thing as I, I noticed Liam wasn't going towards his home.

"Liam, what're you doing?" I called out; halting though the panic racing through me urged me to run.

"Siobhan! Declan! Gods!" Lughna suddenly screamed, and she too began running towards the village, the direction Liam had been heading towards. I began to run after them when Josephine called to me.

"Evan no! Don't leave!" She cried; her eyes wide with fear. I stopped, looking over my shoulder at her and Seamus. Liam heard her, for he called over his shoulder,

"Stay here Evan, it's too dangerous –stay here and protect the others," I knew he had meant to say that it was too dangerous for me, but I knew I couldn't leave my wife and son, much as I wanted to help my brother and his children. Without further hesitation, I ran over to Josephine and the three of us entered the dark chamber we'd only had to use twice. Months ago, during one of the Nietzschean scares, the cries of Brendan and Seamus were so loud that we would surely have been given away. To solve this problem, Josephine had carefully concocted a mixture of herbs that when smelt, produced a calming affect, almost sending a child to sleep. She tried this on herself numerous times before allowing it to be used on any of the children, and there seemed to be no harmful effects.

In any case, it was preferable to certain death. As I lit a few of the extra candles we kept in here, Josephine soothed Seamus with the herbs, and he soon drifted to sleep. We sat in silence, my arm around her and the baby tightly except for when I went to the ceiling, listened carefully for any noises, and then slowly lifted the door, trying to see if Liam and Lughna had returned.

One of these looks was successful: As I lifted the door just enough to look out at the ground, I saw Lughna running furiously, gripping the hand of both Declan and Siobhan, terror written on all their faces. They raced to their own hiding cell and disappeared underneath it before I could call out and inquire about Liam. I would have continued to check for him, but after another hour different, stranger, noises filled our small home. I can't begin to describe the terror that filled us all; there were harsh, inhuman cries, the sound of many heavy feet treading above us. Josephine and I winced as we heard our house being torn apart. All either of us could do was hope that the rest of our family were alive and safely hidden. The herbs Josephine used must have been potent, for our son slept through this with only a small frown on his face. I had to take him from Josephine when she started to clutch him too hard, for I feared she would either harm him or wake him up.

I don't know how long this terror lasted. As the hours wore on, I drifted in and out of sleep, despite the cold fear I felt. Although neither of us could bear to eat, when Seamus eventually awoke, Josephine fed him before administering more of the herbs. Except for the candles, it was completely dark inside, so there was no way to tell how much time had passed. Finally though, the sounds ceased. We waited even longer, just in case there were more of them, but finally I dared to open the door; they had gone. I told Josephine to stay there for a few more minutes as I looked around. The destruction was heartbreaking; every one of our houses had been utterly destroyed, the pieces scattered around. A tornado might have hit and we wouldn't have known the difference. As I walked around sullenly, I came across a large corpse. I nearly fainted when I first saw it, for it belonged to a Magog, but it didn't move and I approached it cautiously. The smell nearly made me throw up; apparently after they hadn't been able to find any of us to eat, the monsters had turned on one another. It was sickening and didn't bear looking upon, so I instead went to tell Josephine it was safe to come out.

"My world," She exclaimed softly as I helped her out and she looked around. Still carrying Seamus, she followed me to Devin and Orla's hiding place. I called to them, saying it was safe to come out, and slowly the ground seemed to lift as Devin crawled out. I helped him out as Orla also appeared, clutching Brendan to her shoulder tightly. We were all silent for a moment, taking in the devastation around us.

"Liam, Lughna!" Orla suddenly cried out, then turned to rush towards their hut. I remembered seeing Lughna, along with the children, get to safety, but had Liam made it before the Magog attacked? As one we rushed to their cellar, as Orla frantically called to them. No one answered, and finally Devin and I pried the opening up, wondering if they had been injured somehow.

Sitting on the floor, a child huddling on either side of her was Lughna. She didn't look up as we called to her. Siobhan and Declan were crying, so I ducked inside, handing first one, and then the other, to Devin and the girls. Next I crouched in front of my sister in law, taking her hands gently. They were like ice, but at the touch she at last looked up. Blood was splattered across her face and I quickly searched for a wound, concerned for her.

"Liam," She said the name softly, eyes staring past me.

"Where is he?" I asked, seeing no wound on her. She didn't answer and I gave her a slight shake.

"Where is Liam, Lughna?" I asked again, louder this time. Still she didn't answer, and fear started to course through me again. Carefully I picked her up and climbed back out of the cellar, setting her back down on the ground.

"Take care of her, I'm going to find Liam," The others stared at me.

"I'm coming with you," Orla said at last, taking a step forward.

"No; you stay here. I'll go with Evan," Devin caught her arm and walked over to where I stood. I could see that Orla wanted to argue, but at a look from Josephine towards Lughna, she nodded. Devin gave me a curt nod and then we took off, racing for the village, both afraid of what we would find.

If our home was in destroyed, then the village was a complete disaster area. The sun was just rising (I hadn't even noticed until then that it was night) as we approached the village. It seemed that the Magog had left, leaving the remains of their attack behind. Houses lay crumpled on the ground, those that stood were burning. People ran through the streets, doing any number of things. People screamed out names, trying to find lost ones, children stood and cried, their parents no where in sight. Dunwich was by no means a large city, but there were at least close to a thousand people living scattered about the area. More than half of them were killed; those that were lucky enough to escape the Magogs' claws or teeth would find themselves crushed beneath collapsing houses, or trapped in burning buildings.

Trembling with fear and anger, I caught anyone who passed by and asked them about my brother. Although most people knew us, no one knew where Liam was or what had happened to him. Most of the villagers, some who I had even come to consider friends, were hysterical with fear and unable to assist themselves, let alone help us. So Devin and I wandered the streets for hours, calling out for Liam, our cries nearly drowned out by the sounds of the horror around us. Finally I thought to look by the school, as that was where Liam would have gone to rescue his children. Voicing this idea to Devin, we ran towards the school. We were met with a sobering sight; the building been burned down, and countless bodies, some those of children, were strewn around it.

Heartsick, we continued to search until at last, throat dried from breathing in smoke, eyes watering with the sting of it, I found my older brother.

I also learned that Lughna's face was covered with Liam's blood, which was why I could find no wound of her own.

When I recognized the body, I sank to my knees, disbelief clouding my mind.

"Devin," I called out, too overcome to say anything else. It wasn't needed; he saw me and ran over to my side, kneeling down to do what I could not; see if my brother still lived.

"Evan, I'm so sorry..." Devin turned his head as his voice caught in his throat. I fell forward, hands holding me up from the ground as I struggled to comprehend what was going on. Liam couldn't be dead. It wasn't possible. No matter that there were too many wounds to count; too much blood and dirt to make out his face clearly. He had to be alive somehow.

"Liam," I called softly, at last crawling over to his side, dusting off his clothes and rolling him onto his back. He would laugh when we explained how we thought he was dead. He'd scold us for scaring poor Lughna and the children. I knew what he'd say exactly: How could he leave when he needed to take care of all of us? We depended on him, so he wouldn't allow himself to die. It was as simple as that. He was my big brother; my protector.

"Come on, we have to take him home," I said softly, voice croaking. Devin looked up at me, confused by my tone. He must have realized something was wrong, but he didn't say anything, he only stood and helped me lift Liam's body, slowly walked back to what remained of our home.

I don't remember the walk back. I don't remember seeing Josephine and Orla rushing towards us, suppressing tears and screams when they saw our burden. I do remember Lughna's cry, her wild look as she saw us and her sigh as she fainted onto the ground.

"Josephine, he needs help," I said softly, stoically not looking down at the lifeless body of my brother. Handing Seamus to Devin, Josephine hesitatingly took a step forward, knelt, and checked to see if Liam still lived. Her face turned up to me in sadness and confusion.

"He needs help," I said louder, wondering why she did not rush to go and get her medicines.

"Evan, he..." her voice trailed off as she turned to look at her brother helplessly.

"He's not dead." I said softly, fists shaking. Josephine didn't say anything else; she turned back to me, walked over to where I stood, and embraced me tightly. I shuddered fiercely and suddenly was crying. I felt frozen inside. The only warmth I could detect was from Josephine, my Rose, who hugged me to her fiercely and whispered the same soothing sounds she used on Seamus when he cried. It was all too much, and a moment later, I again sank to my knees. Josephine kneeled with me, still cradling me in her arms, her own tears mingling with mine.

The next day the others built a pyre. I couldn't do anything, I'm ashamed to say. I was put in charge of watching the children; Lughna was still not herself and was put to bed, a cool cloth on her forehead. Orla, upset as I was, still managed to help Devin and Josephine. There was plenty of wood; we decided there was no point in rebuilding our houses, so that was no problem. No one talked much, except to give directions. Even the normally rambunctious Siobhan was subdued, sitting quietly with her brother by my side. Thankfully they both seemed unharmed. Josephine came to see me once everything was ready. She gave me Seamus to hold, taking the hands of Siobhan and Declan, both still silent, and Orla of course took Brendan as we went to the center of our small home, where the pyre, along with my brother, waited.

"Should we fetch Lughna?" Orla asked softly. They glanced at Josephine, who nodded tightly. Devin disappeared, helping a poor, pale, silent Lughna to walk. Her eyes were still unfocused, and her face appeared vacant. The others tried asking her if she wanted to say anything, but she didn't seem to hear them. Orla finally lit the pyre as the sun began to set; both on the day and on our old lives. Tears streamed down Lughna's face unchecked, and despite her strong will, Orla broke down crying, sobbing into Devin's arms. Josephine rested her head against my shoulder, but I could do nothing except stare at my brother's body as it burned. I couldn't even cry. It had all come to an end too quickly.

In the end, only Josephine had the strength to say any words. As the fire began to dwindle, a breeze picked up, scattering the ashes across the night sky. Her voice trembling, Josephine began to half sing, half recite, a song she claimed was an old family hymn...

"May the spirit never die, though a troubled heart feel pain. When this long winter is over, it will blossom once again..."

Days later, we were all still stunned by the swift obliteration of our former lives. No one knew what to do. Liam had always been the leader, the one we all looked to for guidance and advice. His calm, reassuring presence, now gone, had made us all feel safe. Lughna still did not seem to know herself; we gathered that Liam had been killed in front of her. Josephine said that she might regain her wits in a matter of days...but that it was a possibility that she'd never be the same again. Siobhan and Declan were too young to really understand what had happened. Although they sometimes asked where there father was, or sometimes stood silently, staring into the distance, they regained their enthusiasm for life, as is the way of children. Other than nightmares, it seemed that they would recover from their ordeal.

This again, left us wondering what to do. The lesson Dunwich had been taught was a harsh one; terrible as the Nietzscheans were, they were a buffer against the Magog. There had never been an attack so bad in the entire village's history. Josephine later recalled the woman's warning to her, a couple of years ago, when the Nietzscheans had first left. They must have known that by leaving, they made Dunwich a perfect feeding ground for the Magog, for we humans couldn't fight back. Now the village was all but destroyed, and it would take years for its prosperity to return, if it ever did. There was no telling when the Magog would return. The four of us discussed our options late into every night, trying to decide the best course of action.

In the end, there was really only one choice.

Boston.

The refugee camps would provide at least some amount of safety from Magog. I dimly recalled what the camp had been like when Orla and I had first arrived. Josephine was troubled by our decision, even though she agreed it was the only feasible option.

"It'll be hard to leave Dunwich," she said softly as we began to pack. All that any of us had left was a few pairs of clothing, and the food, which thankfully remained untouched. Not knowing what we'd find in the camp, we planned to bring as much food as we could carry. Josephine brought her medicines as well, or at least, the ones that could be scavenged from the wreck that was our house. Winter was upon us, and we bundled the children and ourselves heavily as we prepared to make the long march to Boston. None of us dared to talk of hope. We knew what awaited us in the 'Refugee' Camp; however we had a greater chance of survival there than here. Still, it was painful beyond words to leave that place where we had known happiness. I couldn't stop the tears when I realized that Liam wouldn't be coming with us. His children would never see their father again. When I voiced this thought out loud, Devin reached over and grasped my shoulder tightly.

"No, but they still have two Uncles who love them and will take care of them." His eyes didn't leave mine until I nodded. There was still an empty, hollow feeling inside of me that was left by Liam's death. In time, it would be filled with anger. For now, though, it was all I could do to follow Josephine, who carried our son, as we turned our backs on the past and stared at the ground we tread on, afraid to face our future.

Author's Note:

Aw man that was hard. Anyway, my headache's better now, thanks. Poor Liam. Poor everybody. This is too depressing...I'm gonna go. The next episode will be up shortly. (also, you should know that the lyrics to the two lullabies were from songs by Flogging Molly and Loreena Mckennit, as were the words Josephine quoted at the end. If you can't tell which is which, well, it doesn't really matter) Thanks for reading,

Luna Sealeaf