Earth's Children

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

Author: Luna Sealeaf

Rating: PG-13 (Just to be safe)

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 7 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...

My life goes on in endless song

above earth's lamentations,

I hear the real, though far-off hymn

that hails a new creation.

Through all the tumult and the strife

I hear it's music ringing,

It sounds an echo in my soul

How can I keep from singing?

-Ancient Earth song (Enya)

Episode Fourteen

What a strange summer, and then winter, it had been. First Orla's sickness, thank Whatever Deity That Lives she survived, and then Seamus' strange theft of the flexi from the library.

I remember waking up one morning to find my husband and my son, shadows under their eyes, grinning from ear to ear. Evan explained how Seamus had stolen the flexi, and at first I assumed he wanted me to reprimand him. Then Evan showed me the flexi with an air of pride and I took a look at it, confused by both of their behaviors.

Well; it was a blueprint for a machine. What was the big deal? I shrugged, handed it back to Evan, and told Seamus that he had to return it. I was all for rolling over and returning to bed, but Evan impatiently handed the flexi back to me.

"Seamus understood all of it." He tried to explain; of course, this was no explanation at all.

"That's great honey," I directed this towards Seamus, whose smile was gone and was now staring from his father to me.

"No, I mean he understood the instructions. Didn't you Seamus?" Evan glanced at the boy, who shrugged.

"I think I did. It's not like we have any of the right materials or nothing, but sure, I knew what it meant." He shrugged again, gaze down to the floor. I still wasn't quite sure what Evan's point was so I asked Seamus to go downstairs and see if his aunt or uncle were up while I got dressed. He gave a nod before racing through the door and down the stairs.

"I was just surprised I guess. Not many kids his age could claim to understand it," Evan tossed the flexi on the bed.

"Surprised? By Seamus? Evan, haven't you realized by now how different he is? He's not even nine yet and he's smarter than I was at thirteen. But we've already had this conversation, remember?" I smiled to Evan as I slipped a vest on over my shirt and tied the strings. He shrugged, looking slightly sullen, but I assumed that it was because he'd been up all night. Giving him a kiss –he tried to put his arms around me and continue it, but I pushed away gently,

"We have to get breakfast ready," I reminded him. And the rest of our day continued as they normally did. While the kids were at school, I went for a walk with Evan. We didn't get to be alone as much anymore, and it was nice with just the two of us.

When spring finally came, it brought many things I hadn't noticed into light. Such as the fact that my little boy, my only living child, would be turning nine years old in a few short months. My nephew, Brendan, was turning nine this month, and my eleventh anniversary with my husband would be celebrated this year. How was it possible? How had eleven years of my life passed so quickly? It would have been depressing if I wasn't so happy. My youth might be gone, but I was left with something better. Family.

There were two small celebrations over those three months; one for Brendan, and one for Evan and me. Caitlin, my beautiful but silent niece, had already been given a small party when she'd turned seven earlier that year.

It was around this time of happiness and, for the most part, content, that Evan met Randal. Evan explained to me that Randal had been a coworker with him and Devin in the mines, and the three had been friendly acquaintances. When Evan met up with him at the market, he invited him back to our house for dinner.

I didn't like Randal from the first moment I saw him. I couldn't say why exactly, and I didn't voice my opinion, but I couldn't help my instant dislike. None of the others seemed to share my feelings; Randal was at least ten years older than all of us, a widower with no children, and a friendly manner about him. Tall and thin, with gray hair, he told wild stories of barely escaping Nietzscheans and Magog, and had many humorous tales and jokes.

I was polite since there was no reason for my strange feeling of dislike. Randal was nothing if not impeccably polite. He once remarked that I reminded him of his wife, only I was more beautiful, according to him. Evan grinned, but I had to force a smile, thinking it was a strange comment. However, since the others enjoyed his company so much, he was invited for dinner often. Even Brendan took a liking to him, and Randal would always say that if he could have had a son, he would have wanted one like Brendan. Caitlin ignored him, but then, she ignored most people she didn't see every day. As for Seamus, well...he was the only person who seemed to share my dislike of Randal.

He'd sit at the table, silent, and eat quietly, not even looking over at our guest. Since I did pretty much the same, I didn't pay too much attention to this. But when Seamus started being outright rude to him, Evan would lecture him sternly on his manners. Randal would protest that it was alright; many kids were shy of him. After that I started watching Seamus. One evening, while the others were in the main room, I asked him to help me clean up.

"Why don't you like Randal?" I asked him quietly as he handed me a dish.

"But –but you don't like him either." His blue eyes were wide as he said this. I nearly dropped the dish.

"What makes you think that?" I said in a calmer manner than I felt; studying his face, which was already handsome at his young age.

"I dunno, I can just tell." He shrugged, obviously not being able to describe with any more details. I sighed and put the dish away.

"Well, we have no reason to not like him, so we must do our best to be polite."

I could tell that he wanted to protest; ask his customary 'why?' whenever we gave him a rule that didn't seem to make sense. But I repeated my first question before he could say anything else. Seamus pondered his answer for a moment before answering.

"I'm not sure; he just seems...weird." I couldn't agree more, but I didn't tell Seamus this. As the parent, I couldn't condone unwarranted bad behavior. So I instructed him to be nicer; he didn't have to like Randal, but he couldn't be rude.

For a long time, there was nothing more to it. Randal continued to be a guest for many nights, but I had more important things to worry about than him. For example; Seamus' birthday.

I was planning a small party; trying to find ingredients for his favorite foods, something that was never easy in the beginning of summer, and trying to convince Evan that nine years old was too young to allow him to drink beer. I was also thinking about having him invite some of his friends over. He and Brendan had a close friend from school; his name was Isaac, and I often saw the three of them playing outside. Isaac had darker skin and was a few inches taller than both Brendan and Seamus. I hadn't met him, but I heard both boys talking about their escapades at school with him. All in all he sounded like a nice boy.

Then, only a week before Seamus' birthday, he came home with a dark bruise on his cheek and several on his ribs. I was surprised to see him in such a state and when I asked him what had happened, he refused to say anything. I asked Brendan, who claimed that he didn't know either. Orla was worried as well; she tried to get both boys to tell her what had happened, but neither would talk to her either.

"Let it go Orla; he probably just got into a fight at school," Devin finally said after Orla had complained that neither would tell her what happened.

"Yeah, these hot summer days get a boy's temper up." Evan agreed.

"What can you expect from a kid whose half-Irish, they're always fighting..." Devin was teasing Evan, who took a playful swing at him, but Orla's glare and voice quickly silenced him.

"Brendan's half Irish...in case you forgot." Her icy tone quickly made my brother give her a sheepish grin.

Eventually we had to let it go; Seamus wasn't badly hurt, and since he refused to tell us what happened we had to assume that it had been, as his father and uncle had said, a schoolboy fight. With his birthday plans finished and the day fast approaching, I didn't think much of it.

The night before Seamus' birthday, we were all gathered in the main room; the kids were playing some kind of card game (I still couldn't understand how Caitlin always seemed to know how such things were played, yet showed no hint of hearing us when we explained the rules to her) Orla and I were talking about the food we'd prepared for the next day, and Evan was playing a soft tune on his tin whistle while Devin sipped a small glass of beer.

"Say, maybe I ought to invite Randal over tomorrow; he'd enjoy the company since he lives alone..." Evan had finished one song and looked over to me as he made his suggestion. I was about to shrug when Seamus' voice cut through the air.

"No. I don't want him here." All of us turned in surprise at him, and Evan was frowning. Under our scrutiny Seamus suddenly seemed uncomfortable.

"Why not cuzo? Randal's funny," Brendan protested. I was staring intently at my boy, but although he cast a glare in his cousin's direction, he only shrugged at our inquiries. I could tell that Evan wanted to insist that his friend be invited, but I spoke first.

"That's alright Seamus; it's your birthday." I smiled at him and cast Evan a warning glance. The matter wasn't discussed for the rest of the night.

The next day went as planned and everyone had lots of fun. As I had expected, Seamus did invite Isaac over, and I was pleased to find that he seemed like a nice boy. He was polite; more so than Seamus was at times, which surprised me. Most parents didn't bother to teach their kids to be polite, and who could blame them? I scarcely had time to do so, and I was better off than other people, some who didn't even have a home and had to constantly fight to survive.

Our good mood only lasted for a few days though.

One afternoon I was the only one in the house; Devin, Orla, and Evan had all gone to the market and were planning to make a day of it. I had volunteered to stay home and wait for the kids, who were old enough to walk home by themselves. Suddenly I heard someone burst through the door, shouting loudly to see who it was.

"Brendan, what's the matter?" I asked, going to the front of the house. He was out of breath and before he could answer, Seamus followed him inside. I gasped and had to bite my lip to keep from shouting myself. Seamus had blood trickling from his mouth and a cut on his forehead, one hand clutched at his chest and he limped slightly. However his attention was not towards me; he was glaring at Brendan with such intensity I almost wondered if the two had gotten into a fight.

"Shut up Brendan!" He ordered sharply, wincing as he struggled to take a breath.

"What happened?" I asked, rushing to Seamus' side and ignoring his attempts to flee from my hold. I looked over the cut on his forehead; it wasn't serious, but as I checked the spot where he clutched with his hand, he grimaced again and I knew he had at least one cracked rib. Brendan started to say something, but again Seamus lashed out.

"Shut up Brendan!" They glared at each other for a few minutes till I reprimanded Seamus for shouting at his cousin like that. Looking from one to the other, I realized that Caitlin wasn't with them. Before I could ask where she was the door burst open once more and a second later Caitlin's arms were thrown around me in a tight hug. I saw Seamus cast a worried look at her, but relax after studying her for a minute.

"Brendan, take your sister upstairs." I disentangled myself from her, gently pushing her to Brendan, still keeping a firm hold on my son.

"Seamus, you're coming with me." I ignored his protest and dragged him into the kitchen.

"I don't suppose you're going to tell me what happened?" I asked grimly, sitting him down before searching for the right medicines I need. Seamus hesitated, started to shake his head, and stopped, saying abruptly,

"I just tripped on the way home. That's all." He obviously seemed proud to have found such a good explanation so quickly. I raised an eyebrow as I studied him.

"You know, I could keep you here until you tell me the truth." His mouth started to open and I knew he was going to proclaim that it was the truth; he really had fallen down, but I was having none of it.

"But I'm not going to. You know why? Because whatever's wrong, you're the only one who seems to be suffering from it. I want to help you, but I can't if you don't tell me the truth. You're the only person who can help you; it's your choice."

I crossed my arms as I looked at him; for all intents and purposes I looked sure and deliberate in my decision. But really I had no idea if I was doing the right thing. Maybe I should keep him there until he told me what really had happened. This time it was a cracked rib; what if next time it was something worse? If only I had some idea what the problem was.

"For now, you're going to have to stay home with me tomorrow."

"Mom, no! That's not fair, I'm fine!" His eyes were wide and pleading, but I ignored it. We had all been planning on going for a sort of 'picnic' tomorrow afternoon by the ocean, presuming the weather was all right and no other problems occurred. After today though, I was looking forward to another day at home. At least this time I'd have some company.

I gave all three children a quick meal and sent them to bed, despite the early hour. Then I sat up until everyone else came home. I stood up with relief when I heard footsteps approach the door. Devin came in first, then Orla, both of whom were laughing. I caught sight of Evan's face as I broke into a hurried stream of words.

"Something happened today, Seamus –"

"What's wrong with Seamus?" Evan asked as he walked in. I was about to answer but the words caught in my throat when he was followed by Randal.

"What's wrong Josephine?" Evan said again, frowning as he walked over to me.

"He's hurt again, but it's worse than before." I finally said, although I didn't like talking about it front of a relative stranger. Both Devin and Orla cast worried looks at me.

"How bad is it?" A note of worry crept into Evan's voice and he took my hands in his.

"He'll be fine, but he's got a cracked rib, or at least a pretty badly bruised one."

"He didn't say what happened?" Orla questioned. I shook my head before telling them his 'falling down' story.

"You don't think it could be true?" Randal suddenly asked in a curious voice. I was annoyed at his intrusion of our conversation, but I answered him.

"No, I don't think it's true at all." I resisted the urge to glare at the older man, who shrugged, offering a friendly smile.

"Anyway, I told him he has to stay home and rest tomorrow. You guys can take the other two; I'll stay home with Seamus." They nodded and I bid them goodnight, not wanting to stay downstairs with the three of them and Randal.

I had a restless sleep that night; one filled with strange dreams. I always had strange dreams, but I rarely remembered them. This one was vivid and haunted me for days:

I was holding Seamus, who was young, probably only one or two, in my arms and we were surrounded by stars. I couldn't see where we were and didn't know what we were doing there. Suddenly Seamus was torn from my grasp; I tried to scream but couldn't and then I was falling backwards –landing in water. I struggled to swim to the surface but couldn't find it. Just before my lungs exploded with pain a hand gripped my wrist and pulled me through. I was staring into several faces; all of them strange. A man had gripped my hand though, and staring into his face I felt calm. In a perfectly normal voice I asked him if he had kept my son safe. His reply was that he'd done the best he could. A girl next to him –a strange looking girl, asked him if his best was enough...and then I woke up.

It was all just jumbled nonsense, but I couldn't get the images out of my head for days and was left with a strange feeling. It reminded of the vision-like dream I'd had when I'd given birth to Seamus, which was something I hadn't thought about in almost nine years. I never told anyone about my dream, but in a way it only served to cement my confidence that Seamus was more than he appeared.

That next morning though, he was just a little boy who had been refused a day of fun. He stared stonily as the others left. Caitlin had to be convinced to leave; she grabbed Seamus and refused to let go. At last Orla picked her up and they left, promising to be back before dark. I watched them go before turning to Seamus.

"If you go rest I can probably make something for breakfast." He shrugged, ignoring me, and walked off; slightly hunched over so as not to irritate his ribs. I sighed; so that was how it was going to be. That didn't keep me from making myself something to eat, as well as bringing him some breakfast upstairs. He pretended to have fallen asleep, so I returned downstairs to perform the numerous tasks I usually had no time for.

Hours passed; several times I went upstairs to check on Seamus, and the day went by quietly.

A little while before I expected everyone to return, there was a knock at the door. Wondering who it was –Nietzscheans never knocked, so at least I knew it was a human- I left the kitchen to open the door.

"Good afternoon there neighbor," Randal said in a cheery voice, letting out a slight laugh. A sense of unease washed over me but I ignored it.

"Hello Randal. My husband and Devin aren't here right now, but they'll be back later." I assumed he was just stopping by to see them and started to close the door but deftly stepped inside as I did.

"Well that's all right; I just thought it'd be nice to see a friendly face. Mind if I stay for a short spell?" His air of jovial friendliness was a little off-putting, but I shrugged and asked if I could get him a cup of tea.

"Sure, if it's not too much trouble, that is." I assured him that it was no trouble and went to go boil water. As I was fixing the drinks he wandered around the kitchen looking at everything.

"It's nice to get to know you a little better, Mrs. Harper, or can I call you Josephine? It's such a pretty name."

"Josephine is fine." I gave a polite smile, silently wishing the others would return quickly. As I turned to set the cups on the table he was suddenly standing in front of me, hands in his pockets.

"A pretty name for such a beautiful woman..." He said the words softly, staring down at me and my sense of unease increased.

"What was your wife's name?" I asked suddenly, still keeping my voice polite. The question seemed to take him aback, but then he chuckled.

"Oh you're a sly one...but let's not talk about the dead. The present's only what interests me, don't you feel the same?" These words too were said softly and before I knew what had happened, his hand was on my waist.

"What are you doing?" I asked in disbelief, trying to take a step back; the counter hit my back as his other hand brushed my hair from my face.

"I just want to get to know you better..." He leaned forward and I dropped the cups, pushing him away by the chest. Anger flared through me and something in his expression changed. Before either of us could do anything a voice said sharply,

"Mom...?" I looked at the doorway to see Seamus standing there, looking at the scene with wide, confused eyes.

"Seamus, go get your father," I ordered quickly. Randal was standing straight up now and he cast me a fierce glare. Seamus turned to do as I said and I rushed forward, only to be pushed to the floor.

"Come back here," He yelled loudly, sprinting from the room to where Seamus had gone. I was on my feet in an instant, terrified for my son. I followed closely behind and screamed in anger when I saw Randal lash out at Seamus, who fell to the floor.

"Do I need to teach you another lesson?" He was shouting, eyes wild. For a moment I was blinded by rage; it all made sense now...

"How dare you touch him," I said the words quietly but with such a deadly calm that even Seamus looked at me in surprise. Randal had apparently not heard; he was giving a heavy blow to Seamus, who was still on the floor, and I rushed at him fiercely, hands clawing at his face.

Blood covered my nails and Randal cried out. I didn't have long to feel triumphant though –he backhanded me to the floor again and for a second I was stunned, the breath knocked out of my body.

"Mom!" I heard Seamus cry, and he ran to my side. My eyes were blurred and I tried to sit up.

"Seamus –no" The words burned my chest as I tried to gasp them out. He didn't listen, instead he did the same thing I had done, running at Randal, screaming in fury and trying hard to hit him. Randal practically laughed before shoving him away. Seamus hit the wall hard and fell to the ground. My senses were returning and I again staggered to my feet.

"How dare you..." Tears were coursing down my face; tears of rage and hate. "It's not enough that I have to worry about Nietzscheans and Magog killing my child? It's not enough that he could die of sickness or hunger or any number of injuries? I will not let him be hurt by another human." Each word was spat out –as well as a bit of blood- as I stood there, fists clenched, and shaking.

"I didn't hurt him cause I wanted to Josephine...he just needed to be taught not to disobey his olders, that's all." Randal stepped forward, hands reached out for me. With a cry I turned and ran back to the kitchen, mind racing. He was right behind me; one hand yanked at my hair while the other caught my arm. I had made it far enough though; with my free hand I grabbed the pail of water I'd just boiled, hoping it was still hot enough, and flung it into his face.

Judging by his painful cry it was still hot enough to be painful. But not enough to blind him; he twisted my arm painfully but let my hair go to get the water out of his eyes. His face red, I prepared to fight him as much as I could, but knew I couldn't hold him off forever. With despair I watched as he realized it too, and a smile crept across his face. But then I heard the door open.

"Evan!" I screamed loudly. My voice was cut off by another dizzying blow to the face. I heard Orla's scream and an instant later Evan ran into the kitchen. His face was one of pure anger but when he saw Randal gripping me and the blood on my face, he almost went crazy. Abruptly I sank to the floor as Randal was wrenched away. I heard a resounding crack as Evan began beating him. Devin yelled for him to stop, once he'd came to my side to make sure I was ok. Between the two of them they shoved Randal outside, and I heard Evan scream–no doubt restrained by Devin- that if he ever laid eyes on him again, he'd kill him.

"Seamus?" I said groggily; blood was pouring from my nose and I could taste it in my mouth. Then Orla was at my side, brushing hair away from my eyes and murmuring soothing words.

I was all right except for a few bad bruises. I was more concerned about Seamus. My son had a mild concussion and a few more bruises, but was otherwise unhurt. He was shaken more than anything, and I knew that the psychological damage had been greater than the physical. As the two of us were upstairs recovering, he told me everything that had happened. How he'd been beset by Randal one day on the way back from school. Brendan and Caitlin had raced ahead and neither had seen it. The second time, Caitlin had seen everything but of course couldn't tell anyone. Seamus had tried to confide in Brendan, but his cousin didn't believe him.

The fact that we hadn't been able to protect him was clearly a betrayal, though it was one Seamus never put into words. How can I describe the guilt one feels when a parent fails in such a way? I should have seen; I should have trusted my gut instinct. Evan felt even worse, but the two appeared to reconcile quickly. Brendan was also extremely upset, but Seamus assured him that he was forgiven.

There was a subtle change in him after that though. You couldn't tell unless you looked for it, but it was there. He never talked to strange adults ever, even avoiding his teachers. He didn't have such a problem with females; but any strange man was given an icy glare. And he seemed to distance himself from the rest of us. Oh, he played with Brendan as much as ever, as he played with his father and uncle, and he never hesitated to tell myself and his aunt that he loved us. But something was different. And for awhile it nearly broke my heart.

In the end I began to learn that perhaps it was for the best. Evan and I would not be around forever. Who knows? Maybe the more independent he felt; the easier it would be for him when we were gone. I hoped so, for it was the only comfort I could offer myself.

Author's note:

Kind of an out-of-the-way chapter, but one I'd been planning since the beginning. The next chapter will probably be a little more lighthearted, but then again, I'm making any promises. Actually, wait, I was wrong; you might want to go and get your tissue-boxes ready. I know I will. Anywho, same old same old: you guys are awesome, I'm extremely grateful for every single review, and truly happy that so many are enjoying this.

On a different note; may I suggest reading Forgotten Night (if you haven't already done so) It's posted by me, but written by a friend and is very good. Definitely a good pick-me-upper after my next few depressing episodes...

Thanks,

Luna Sealeaf