Hey, I'm sorry this took so long to get written and posted. I blame school mostly. First it was anxiety over it starting, and then when it started I became too busy to do much other than sleep. Anyway, my thoughts were constantly on the next episode and now that I have a new computer in my own room, I should be able to get episodes up even quicker! Yay! (Applause)

Also, I had a question: I have tons of great songs and ideas for Andromeda Music videos. But I can't make them myself, I don't have the right equipment, so if I wanted to post my suggestions to anyone who can make one, where would I put the post? (Of course you could always email or im me if you wanted :) )

Ok, enough of that, down to business!

Earth's Children

Morning smiles

like the face of a newborn child

Innocent; unknowing...

Promises of a long lost friend

It speaks to me of comfort

But I fear

I have nothing to give

And I have so much to lose

Here in this lonely place

Tangled up in our embrace

There's nothing I'd like better than to fall

But I fear

I have nothing to give

-Ancient Earth lyrics (Sarah McLachlan)

Episode Sixteen

After all the people I had lost in my life the sudden loss of my brother wounded me more than I could have imagined.

At what point does a person become numb to the pain of losing a loved one? What was the body count that I would have to reach before I would no longer suffer from such excrutiating agony? When would it stop and let me live the rest of my life in peace?

From before I could remember, Devin had been a constant in my life. I could only just recall asking Mom why her stomach was growing. Her words, telling me to watch and protect my brother, echoed through my mind always, a steady rhythm behind my other thoughts. And I had failed. The blame was all mine. I should never have let him join Evan in their rebellious meetings.

Logic didn't comfort me. I knew that in reality the meetings and system my husband had come up with had done more good than harm. My mind also knew that Devin was a grown man; capable of making his own decisions. My heart refused to accept such cold knowledge. For once even Evan could do little to comfort me. I finally understood how he had felt when Liam had been killed.

Well, not exactly, I suppose. After all, Devin could still be alive. Orla certainly seemed to think he was. I wanted to believe her; I wanted so badly to believe that she was right and that we would see each other again. It was possible, wasn't it? Perhaps not probable...but when had anything that happened in our lives been 'probable'? I often thought back and wondered how things would have been different if Orla been correct and not, alas, I.

At least I could be sure about one thing: Seamus, my son, would live. Of that I was absolutely certain, as much as I had always been. I have never really believed in the supernatural, but I couldn't help but think the dreams I sometimes had were premonitions of the future. The dreams had become more frequent and more vivid as he grew older, but I couldn't always recall them. They were always different too. Some nights I woke up at peace with my self and the world, other times I awoke crying and trembling in fear. From what I could remember of the dreams, there were only a few similarities. The faces I saw were almost always the same. I pondered telling Evan about them, but after Devin's disappearence I decided not to. I'm not sure why... but it was nice to have something all to myself. Some bit of knowledge that I could comfort myself with when no one else was able to.

For a time we, the people in the Human Ghetto, were left in peace. Evan -or "Harper" as people on the streets came to know him as- would sometimes disappear for a few days when word came of Nietzscheans searching for him. But things quieted down and we were left with our grief. It was in times such as those dark days that I would realize how important my family was to me. It was in them that I found my strength.

Orla was stronger than I could ever imagine. Buoyed by her belief that Devin was not gone from our lives forever, she was able to go about our daily business with her usual positive mood. When my sadness overtook me she would make me rest and take care of me; this woman who's health was now so frail. Her skin might be an unhealthy white; she might be thinner than Brendan, but her eyes sparkled with life as much as they always had. How she could continue so without Devin by her side was beyond me. Those two had been in love from the moment they had set eyes upon each other. Her goodness helped me to overcome my doubts and evantually join the living again.

The boys, Seamus and my nephew Brendan, were constantly striving to make us laugh. When my thoughts were suddenly filled with my brother I would watch the two of them playing and working together and it would comfort me. Thanks to the two of them and their antics I was reminded of the happy memories I shared with my family, rather than just the sad ones.

Caitlin was more sensitive than the boys. Growing into such a beautiful young girl, despite her lack of words, sometimes Caitlin would just sit with me. Her silence was often a greater comfort than any other's persons' words. Once she disappeared with her brother and cousin for nearly an entire day. When the three of them returned she handed me a bouquet of wildflowers. The gesture had been so sweet that tears had filled my eyes, though I refused to cry. Then Caitlin hugged me fiercely and ran away, blonde hair flying behind her back. I had stood there, alone in the kitchen, staring at the flowers as I remembered when Devin would go and pick me flowers after the two of us had fought.

But I think the greatest help was indeed Evan. He always knew what I was thinking. Despite the amount of years that had passed since I had first kicked him on that dark night (it seemed a lifetime ago) he still looked just like the handsome boy who had so infuriated me. I don't if what people say about soulmates is true or not; but Evan was as close to one as I think I could get. He really did complete me. I could no more live without him than I could live without oxygen.

As the days went by, one after another in a slow march of grey skies and unclean winds, and seasons passed as they had done for eternity, I found myself smiling again. It didn't seem possible; how could I be happy when our lives were so filled with sadness? But I was, and I was not the only one. Even Caitlin recovered her happy disposition, a healing that comes so much easier to children than to adults, it sometimes seems. 'Adult'...when had I started calling myself that? For that matter, when had I become an adult?

Three years after my brother's capture I was in my early thirties, give or take a year, I suppose, since I had never been completely sure of my age since my parents' death. Despite my advanced years I didn't feel old. I didn't even feel mature. I had always associated wisdom and strength with age, but now that I had reached such an age, I felt no different. Everything was just as confusing, just as painfully strange and new, as everything had been twenty years ago. As my son grew older, I often felt younger, rather than otherwise. Though between him and his father, one would think it would be the opposite.

At thirteen, both Seamus and his cousin Brendan were strikingly handsome; both were fairly short, Brendan about an inch taller than Seamus, but both had beautiful eyes. Seamus with his clear brilliant blue ones and Brendan with the warm brown of his father. The only thing the two had in common otherwise was their spiky blonde -almost more of a pale white color than actually gold, like that of Evan and Orla- and of course, their cocky attitudes. When I was thirteen, and I'm sure it was the same for Evan, I was struggling merely to survive to be fourteen, that I had no time for friends. Let alone boyfriends. Apparently life in the city was different, because Seamus began to claim that he'd fallen in love.

I remember well the first night that he came home and after a silent dinner of picking at his food and constantly sighing, while casting significant looks to Brendan, who would look back sympathetically, Seamus at last spoke up when only Evan and I remained in the kitchen.

"How old were you when you got married?" He blurted out, blushing a little and not meeting our gaze. Evan was helping me wash dishes -no easy task in such a dampy and small room- and we exchanged puzzled looks at his question. Finally, eyes questioning, Evan shrugged and answered our son's question.

"I guess I was about nineteen or so. Your mother was...?" Now it was his turn to look at me and wait for an answer. Under both of their stares, I didn't really care to remember how old I was. Of course, if someone had told me what was going to happen three years later I might have changed my thinking...

"Around twenty I suppose," I finally muttered, concentrating on the dish in my hands and making sure to give it an extra vigorous scrub. When Seamus said nothing else, merely standing in the doorway and looking uncomfortable, I nudged Evan in the shoulder. For a moment he stared at me in incomprehension until I gestured my head to the boy.

"Why do you ask?" He quickly turned and directed towards Seamus.

"I just wanted to know....see, there's this girl...her name's Julia, and, and we're in love."

He said these last words so fast that I almost thought I hadn't heard right. There was complete silence as Seamus stood up straight, looking slightly defiant, and I tried to think of what to do. Should Evan and I somehow turn this into a life lesson? Should we encourage it or convince him that he was too young? Then again, in our lives, the phrase 'too young' had almost lost all point of use. I don't think Evan was having such difficult thoughts as I was. He laughed.

"Just like his Dad eh?" Grinning, Evan walked over and lightly cuffed Seamus' head, who grinned right back at him, apparently relieved from having such positive feedback.

"Making the ladies swoon at first sight, breaking hearts..." Evan shook his head in mock sadness, giving a theatrical sigh. "Ah, those were the days..." The two 'men' laughed and I found myself once more slightly irritated at them both.

"Ahem." I cleared my throat and two pairs of blue eyes focused on me. Crossing my arms and tossing my hair, something that was rather difficult to do, considering that it only reached my chin, I said in a neutral voice,

"And who exactly did what other girls did you sweep off their feet? Strangely enough, I was under the impression that you had married your first and -correct me if I'm wrong- only love. Me." I walked towards them as I spoke, saying the words as though they were simply observations. Seamusg giggled nervously, looking from one of us to the other, but he was too used to our petty squabbles to be too worried. Evan just changed expressions instantly, a trait I lacked but at which he excelled, and carefully put his arms around me.

"I was only joking, you know that. You're the only woman I've ever loved or ever wanted to love." I wish I could say that I wasn't so easily placated, but since I knew he was only joking before, I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and turned back to our current problem.

"And what makes you think that this girl, Julia, feels the same way you claim to feel?" I asked, trying to sound serious and not make fun of his emotions. At my words though Seamus looked uneasy again. He gave a brief shug; lifting one shoulder and lowering it. I looked to Evan to see what he made of this gesture.

"Well...I guess she probably doesn't know exactly how much I like her. Dad," As if suddenly thinking of something, Seamus looked up at his father -a short distance now that Seamus had gone through a growth spurt- and continued hestitantly.

"How did you make Mom fall in love with you?" His look was once more serious but I could not hold in a laugh at his words. Evan opened his mouth to answer but I cut in before he could say anything.

"Your father? Make me fall in love with him? That's not exactly how it happened." Evan frowned slightly while I grinned to myself and Seamus looked confused.

"But, I mean, what did you do and stuff?"

"Oh this is too perfect," I muttered, threw my hands in the air, and returned to my dish cleaning. Behind me, Evan continued with his solemn conversation, one hand resting on Seamus' shoulder lightly. They looked for all the world as though they were discussing the meaning of life and wisdom was passing from Father to Son.

"Now at first your mother didn't think much of me at all."

"That's putting it rather lightly, don't you think?" I said over my shoulder. Seamus glanced at me curiously but Evan ignored my words.

"Anyway, I didn't let that stop me. I followed her around, showed off my skills and my better side. You know, convinced her that I was worth spending her time with. In the old days, they used to call it 'courting' or sometimes 'dating'. We got to know each other better and found that we had a lot in common."

At this I had no choice but to turn around incredulously, fists on my hips though I ignored the water now staining my grungy dress.

"That's not what it was like at all?" Evan looked at me in surprise while Seamus asked eagerly,

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, your father did nothing but pester and annoy me. Not to mention he could hardly give a decent compliment to save his life."

Evan blushed slightly and mumbled something I didn't hear but Seamus found my words funny.

"So tell me exactly what you did," Seamus implored his father.

"Wouldn't you rather have my advice?" I asked, a little surprised. He grinned at me and shook his head.

"Nah, after all, Dad's way worked, didn't it?" My mouth must have dropped open as Evan let out a loud laugh. I tried to say something.

"But it was embarrassing! I practically hated him when we first met," I tried to insist.

"But you guys still got married and all, so it must have worked."

Evan was holding his sides now, laughing so hard. I decided that I'd had enough of washing dishes. Still unable to think of a single thing to say to that, and not likeing this feeling of speechlessness one bit, I stormed out of the kitchen to go talk to 'sensible' people, such as Orla and Caitlin.

I suppose Evan's advice must have worked since a few weeks later Seamus brought Julia over for dinner. She was apparently a good friend of his and Brendan's and the three got on wonderfully. I wasn't so sure that I liked the girl; she seemed a little arrogant and spoiled to me, but then, she was only a child. I decided to let it go and let things work themselves out. I had hoped that Seamus would evantually see Julia the way I did, but he truly seemed taken by her. There young love only lasted for a few months though; towards the beginning of winter Seamus became melancholy and depressed. Apparently Julia had dumped him and he was heartbroken. Good riddance, was all I had to say. Evan took it a little more seriously, explaining that it was Seamus' first love, and that those were always the hardest.

"Not all first loves are the same." I reminded him. They couldn't have really been in love. Even if they had been older, I firmly believed that if you truly loved someone, you stayed with them for as long as you could.

"They're just kids whose hormones are controlling their minds," I said loftily. Looking back, I wish I hadn't had such a cavalier attitude. Instead of finding my words comforting, it annoyed Seamus that I didn't understand, and he often turned to his father when he wished to confide something. I was hurt for a little while, but Seamus' mood only lasted for the one season. Brendan was soon sick of his dark moods and by spring the two boys were back to prowling the streets and playing with their friend Isaac. Seamus and I grew close again, mainly due to his numerous mechanical projects. Other than himself, I was the person with the best understanding of such things and he loved to talk about what he was working on and what he planned to make. Sometimes I would feel a little guilty when the two of us would have these conversations, for Evan was often left out. He didn't know what we were talking about most of the time and his lack of knowledge would make him frustrated. There didn't seem to be much common ground among the three of us, except for when we were together as one big family with Orla, Brendan, and Caitlin.

In fact, Caitlin was about the only one who could ever calm Seamus down. When he got in a bad mood, which was luckily a rare occurence, Seamus would act surly and get mad at anyone who reprimanded him. Only Caitlin took no nonsense from her older cousin. I remember one episode of such a case: It was that same spring after Seamus' failed love and all of us were outside enjoying the sunshine. Caitlin was drawing pictures in the dirt with her hands, and the rest of us were doing various things. Seamus and Brendan had returned from the junkyard mid-afternoon, apparently having got into a fight, over what we did not know. Brendan stormed into the house and slammed the door while Seamus stomped around our little group. The four of us just ignored him, though Orla offered an inviting smile. For a few minutes Seamus did nothing while we continued our business; then, for no apparent reason that I am aware of, he walked over to Caitlin and scuffed her pictures with his foot. Before the three of us could scold him Caitlin had leapt to her feet and in one swift motion slapped her cousin across the face.

I swear the sound of it practically echoed in the small area.

"Caitlin..." Orla gasped, trying to reprimand her. I layed a hand on her arm to still her words, wanting to see how the two children handled things. Caitlin was glaring at Seamus, who appeared stunned. There was a red mark on his cheek and his mouth formed an O. The two stared at each other, unblinking, for I don't know how long. I wondered what Caitlin would say, if she could speak. But they did not seem to need words to communicate. After a few minutes of this, Seamus hung his head and gave a small,

"I'm sorry Caity" using his and Brendan's pet name for her. Caitlin ignored him, turned sharply, and stalked into the house. It was just one of many times where Caitlin showed that she was just as strong as her two cousins. Perhaps this seems unimportant to others but the knowledge made me easier about the future. I knew that no matter what might happen to her mother, or myself and Evan, Caitlin would be able to take care of herself.

And so our lives went; day after day, night after night. There were raids from the Nietzscheans, there were one or two small Magog attacks that were terrifying at the time but not so bad in retrospect, there were murders and mugging among the humans themselves; and there were the impartial killers; plagues, famine...but nothing so bad in particular that it stood out in our minds. All of these things and more were just the backdrop of our every day lives.

And, as Orla would always say, there were good things too. There were children; there was the dawn and the setting of the sun; nights of full moons and starry skies, laughter, unusual acts of kindness, and so on. She would always make sure to point these things out to her children, and Seamus if he was around. I sometimes wondered why, but never put my question into words. One night after going over all the known constellations and telling the three children about how beautiful the stars were in space, she answered my question on her own.

"I wish I could see the stars from space someday. And the earth, and the moon." Brendan said quietly. We were behind the house; some might have called it our backyard since there was a small patch of undead grass that was boxed in with walls on all sides, so it gave a feeling of complete privacy. Evan had gone to sleep with a headache, but Orla and I were sitting outside on the grass with the children, who were stretched out side by side on the ground.

"Yeah, that'd be great..." Seamus said. His voice picked up a little bit as he continued with a little more excitement, "If I ever lived in space, I wouldn't ever leave it. I'd go visit drifts, and other planets maybe, but mostly I'd just stay in my huge spaceship and just fly around..." Brendan nodded in agreement.

"Oh I don't know, that seems like a bit of a meaningless life," Orla countered gently.

"So? What's wrong with a meaningless life? What's the difference between a meaningful one and one that's not?" Seamus rolled over onto his stomach to face his aunt inquiringly, chind resting on his fists as he gazed up at her. Brendan followed suit curiously; only Caitlin continued to lay still on the grass.

"Wouldn't you rather do something important, something that changed the world? Something that helped people? I'm sure space is a nice place, but you shouldn't forget about all the beautiful things here on Earth. A meaningful life would be working to preserve those beautiful things..." her voice trailed off and she stood up. Both boys were looking at her with odd expressions. As though they were caught between wanting to agree with Orla because of how much they loved her, but not really thinking her words made sense.

"Well, I'm off to bed. Goodnight everyone, sleep well." She stood up and smiled cheerfully at them and we returned her pleasantry. I wasn't quite ready to sleep, but I stood up anyway.

"Your aunt is right you know; a meaningful life is much more fulfilling than you'd think," I didn't want to sound like I was lecturing, and as I spoke both Seamus and Caitlin slowly got to their feet.

"Maybe...but Aunt Orla's too nice. I don't think I could ever be as good a person as she is." Seamus said ruefully. I laughed and ruffled his hair, though he tried to duck away. So instead I caught him up in a quick hug and kissed his forehead before letting him go. He pretended to be disgusted but grinned as he went inside. I did the same to Caitlin, who accepted both hug and kiss passively, gave me a quick smile, and followed Seamus. I then turned to Brendan, who was still laying on the ground.

"Hey kiddo, aren't you tired yet?"

"Not really..." There was something in his voice that made me think something was bothering him, so I walked over and sat down next to him. Neither of us said anything for a few minutes, then...

"Aunt Josephine can I tell you something?" His words were slow and hesitant, and he sat up abruptly as he said them. I schooled my face into a calm expression as I looked over my nephew, silently dreading what his words might be.

"Of course Brendan, you can always talk to me." I finally answered.

"Will you promise not to tell Mom?" These words caught me by surprise; usually Brendan was quite close to Orla, especially after his father had been taken.

"Sure," I wanted to add something to my promise, some sort of safeguard so that if what he told me was too big I could tell her without feeling guilty. But the words wouldn't come out. So I waited silently while Brendan collected his thoughts.

"Seamus and I did something bad the other day," He finally said in a small voice, turning his gaze to the ground and picking at the grass.

"How bad?" I sat as though frozen, trying not to sound mad or worried; merely curious.

"I'm not sure. We only did it to save ourselves but..." Again he hesitated and I reached over to lay a hand on his, offering comfort.

"You can tell me. I promise I won't be mad at you," I said quietly, gazing at him intensely. At last he looked up and met my eyes.

"We killed somebody." I felt as though I'd been kicked. I struggled to continue breathing normally, feeling cold as ice.

"Who was it? Why?" I stopped myself before I started scaring him.

"I don't know who it was, some guy. We were coming home from the junkyard and we were eating the lunch you'd given us. Suddenly he just came out of nowhere. We didn't even know he was there until he knocked Seamus down. He had a knife and I was afraid he'd hurt us so I attacked him, then Seamus stood up and he helped me..." Brendan shivered fiercely and looked away. I no longer felt scared though; I knew Brendan wouldn't lie, and so all that was left was a great deal of sadness. As I reached over to lay an arm around him, pulling him to my side, it occurred to me why it was that I felt so bereft.

Both my son and my nephew, at just thirteen years old, had lost all semblance of innocence they might have had.

Well and so, why should I feel bad? Hadn't I been three years younger than they when my own innocence had been lost? While I might have liked to protect them from all unpleasantness in the world, to do so would probably do them more harm than good.

"Why didn't you want to tell your mother?" I asked softly.

"I didn't want her to know that I was...that I was a murderer." His voice came out hoarsely and he bit his lip, presumably to keep from crying. Brendan rarely cried so that spoke of how great his distress was.

"Your Mom would never think that of you; just as I'd don't think that of you. Orla has killed to protect herself and her family. Don't be ashamed of it." He leaned into my arms and I held him for much of the night, until he fell asleep. I let him sleep for a little while because I wanted to be alone with my thoughts. So many things were racing through my mind. I had always taught the two of them that it was safer and better to run away than to fight back. Brendan had usually listened to me politely but then point out that neither his father nor his uncle ran away from fights. I would sharply reply that neither his father nor his uncle were thirteen years old. I had at least thought that Seamus, my son, had listened to me and would be safer for it. I suppose I'd been wrong.

It wasn't that I wanted Seamus to be a coward or weak. I just wanted him to survive. And brave as his father and Devin may have looked to the boys, I knew that there had been many times when Evan's temper or Devin's pride could easily have gotten them killed. Perhaps I was trying to control them too hard. Maybe I'll I could do was protect them as much as possible and hope. Hope that fate had a better future for them than the ones it gave to their family.

With a sigh I gently shook Brendan awake. He was too heavy, despite his skinny frame, for me to carry him upstairs. He nodded groggily as I told him to go to bed. I watched him walk inside as I stood up. Before I followed him I paused; looking up in the sky to wonder if it held the answers to the questions I so desperately wanted to ask. But all that I saw was a vast emptiness, broken only by a few pale and fading lights.

Author's Note:

Please don't hate me! I'm so incredibly sorry that this took so long! But seriously, it really was just one thing after another. And also, please forgive my spelling/grammar errors. I have a computer in my room now, but at the moment it only has wordpad on it, so I had to make do with practically no cool writing features. For the same reason, please forgive me if it's really short. It doesn't have a page count, so I had to try and estimate. And since I had writer's block throughout this whole episode, it was hard for me to just sit down and write page after page. Despite all this, I hope you enjoyed this. I can't promise when the next episode will be, but I promise to at least get started on it really soon. Thanks for waiting,

Luna Sealeaf