Author's Notes: More from the AU series. I'm trying to create a feasible canon for this thing, but this falls well after anything I've written so far. Please, please let me know if anything seems way too unrealistic! Much darker than previous chapters, and also includes (canon!) alien non-con and m-preg. Just a lot more seriously than RvB ever took it.
The newscaster on the TV continued to extol the details of the latest battle against the Covenant, those strange aliens who had decided that humans should not be allowed to continue their existence. Sheila ignored the noise, focusing instead on the delicate process of cooking dinner for her husband. Not a housewife by any means, she had decided to do something special when Dick had called to say he was working late.
The ringing phone, however, interrupted both her conversation and the news report. Hitting the mute button on the remote, Sheila picked up the phone. "Simmons residence," she answered, trying to sound cheerful.
"Sheila?" The rough, haggard voice on the other end was hesitant, as if he didn't know if he'd called the right number.
"This is she," she replied warily.
"Oh thank god," the caller said. Relief was evident in his voice. "It's me, Tucker," the man clarified, and Sheila's eyes widened in surprise. She and Dick hadn't heard from their former housemate for almost two years, since he and Church had joined up for special operations against the Covenant.
"Tucker! Are you okay? You don't sound so great." In fact, he sounded downright awful; but, not knowing what her friend had been through in the last few years, Sheila couldn't in good conscience tell him that.
Tucker replied with a low chuckle. "I'm doing okay, but things aren't looking good for...me." He paused a moment before continuing. "Sheila? I...I need a place to stay for a bit. I don't want to impose, but at least for tonight, can I crash with you guys?" It pained Sheila to hear the pleading desperation in his voice.
"Of course you can," she replied gently. "Tucker, you're a friend, and we're not about to turn out friends in need."
"Sheila, you are a godsend. I should be there in about an hour, if it's no problem." Tucker's relief was palpable over the phone.
"An hour sounds about good. See you then!" Tucker made his own quick goodbyes, and Sheila hung up the phone just as Dick came in the door. With a quick glance at the unfinished dinner, she hurried out to meet him and tell him the news of their imminent guest.
----
Dinner had been a tense affair, nervous as the Simmonses were about seeing their old friend. Dick sat in his office, sending off some emails to colleagues about the work that had kept him late. Sheila, on the other hand, was nervously rearranging pillows on the couches, idly wondering why her friend would be in such bad shape. The chime of the doorbell made her jump, and she heard clattering in the office as Dick moved to join her in the hall.
On the other side of the door stood Tucker holding a wrapped bundle in his arms. The dark-skinned young man looked worn, his clothing decidedly second-hand, with bags under his eyes that were partly hidden by sunglasses. Sheila welcomed him in and shut the door behind him as her motherly instincts kicked in. Giving him a thorough once over, she determined that he hadn't been eating well, and he looked in desperate need of a shower and a good night's rest.
The trio moved into the living room, taking seats on the couches. Then Dick spoke up. "Tucker, it's great to see you, but where have you been? Church keeps in regular contact, but it's like you disappeared off the map." Tucker grimaced and gently shifted the bundle in his arms.
"I've gottta be honest with you two. You're probably not gonna want me around after I tell you my story." He held up a hand to stop Sheila's protesting. "But first, you guys should meet Junior," Tucker said, slowly unwrapping the bundle. Sheila held her breath in anticipation, her hand squeezing Dick's.
"What the hell is that?!" Dick exclaimed. Tucker sheilded the small creature against his chest while Sheila held her husband in place. Tucker didn't look inclined to answer Dick's question, so Sheila decided to speak up.
"Tucker?" She waited until he looked up at her, apprehension in his eyes. "Is that Junior?" she asked, and he nodded. "Is he...Tucker, is Junior one of the Covenant?" Another nod, more hesitant this time. "How...Tucker, how did you get him?"
Here her friend sighed and rubbed his face. Tucker took a deep breath and started his story.
----
Tucker woke to pain and darkness. A quick check found his hands bound and secured to something. It also showed that he was alone. With a groan, Tucker sat up as best he could on the floor where he was situated and tried to remember what had happened. He'd been scouting with Church through the god-awful marshy terrain when the fog had come up and he hadn't realized that they'd been separated. He vaguely recalled a sharp, pricking feeling in his arm, and then nothing until now.
He was peering into his dark surroundings when the door to his cell opened. The bright light now streaming in the doorway blinded him; only by squinting could Tucker make out the hulking silhouette in the door-frame. He couldn't stop the knot of fear forming in his gut - he'd been fighting the Covenant for over a year now, and this one had the shape of one of their Elite warriors. No human had yet won in a fight against them. Tucker clenched his bound fists and braced himself against the wall as it entered the room.
--
Tucker shivered on the cold floor of his cell as the Elite left. The alien had untied his hands, and Tucker wrapped his arms around his knees, sitting in a fetal position against the wall. It took all of his will not to break down crying.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck..." he muttered to himself, trying to ignore the pains and aches in places he didn't even want to think about. Tucker had never felt so exposed, vulnerable, or violated in his entire life. With a shuddering sigh, he leaned his head against the wall as silent tears tracked their way down his face.
--
The alien - and it was only ever one who came into his cell - couldn't speak English, or any other human language for that matter. It used a series of grunts instead, though he couldn't tell if it was language or something else. Tucker had started calling it Crunchbite in his head, due to the wicked teeth inside its frightening mouth. But Crunchbite had started being gentler with him, almost caressing Tucker's face and body after it finished its...business. What bothered Tucker most was that he was getting used to Crunchbite, to the painful, humiliating, shameful visits. He shuddered and ate some more of the thin gruel-like substance that had been pushed through the slot in the door, praying that he'd get out of there soon.
--
Something was different today. Crunchbite seemed more nervous, anxious than usual. In fact, he left the door open this time and grabbed Tucker by his arm, hauling him up and out of the door. Tucker's ragged clothing left him much more exposed than he'd like to be, but he was more concerned with keeping up with Crunchbite.
They approached another door, and Crunchbite stopped in front of it, turning Tucker around to face him. It looked as though the alien were struggling with something, and finally it ground out a few words in English, surprising Tucker completely.
"You carry savior," Crunchbite ground out, motioning with his hand to Tucker's midsection. The soldier's eyes widened. "Go. Be safe." With that, Crunchbite opened the door and pushed him out, back into the marshlands he'd been taken from.
--
The pain was excruciating. He didn't even have the right kind of bodily equipment for giving birth! All he really had were some blankets pilfered from an abandoned camp, something to staunch the bleeding. His muscles spasmed, wrenching a pained cry from his lips.
Before long, through the agony, Tucker felt a change in his body. The pain began to lessen, slowly, and something soft bumped against his arm. Half unconscious, Tucker pulled it close to him as protective instincts he didn't know he had surfaced.
--
Tucker held Junior to him, praying that this transport wouldn't be searched thoroughly. He'd been able to make his way into a half-abandoned military outpost to snag the two of them some clothing, though only the large T-shirts even began to fit Junior. The alien baby was growing steadily, his diet consisting of whatever game Tucker was able to catch while on the run.
The pair, father and son, huddled together between boxes in the hold of the cargo ship, finally on their way to Earth.
----
As Tucker finished his story, Sheila felt her heart breaking for her friend and his...son. Junior blinked sleepily at her, and she couldn't help but smile at the small thing's innocence.
"If the government gets their hands on Junior, they'll tear him apart," Tucker was saying. Sheila turned her attention to her friend and her husband. "I can't let that happen to him. It doesn't matter if Crunchbite...did that to me. Junior's my kid. We've come a long way together, and I can't give him up like that."
Sheila opened her mouth to respond, but Dick beat her to it. "Tucker, you can stay here as long as you like." Tucker stared at them incredulously. "I mean it. You're our friend, and you've been through a hell of a lot for that kid."
"We could never put you out on the street," Sheila continued. She stood and moved over to where Tucker and Junior sat on the couch, given her old friend a hug and his alien child a kiss on the head. "Family is family regardless of blood," she murmured.