Gen 8 Ch 9: Disconnect

Sometimes it feels like the rain will never stop.

And while fertile ground brings new life...

  
...it's tough to find joy in it when the sky above is an endless sea of gray.

But even if the pain can feel unbearable at times...

 ...sometimes life rewards you with something breathtaking.

Huxley still handled her like she was made of glass. She'd named her Ivy, for no other reason than she liked the sound of it, but the more she'd thought about it during her pregnancy, the more she appreciated the meaning. Ivy was strong and resilient, a plant that thrived wherever it grew. Hux wanted that for her daughter. She was going to grow up to be fearless and tough and never take crap from anyone. But now that she held this tiny, soft creature in her arms, all Huxley could think about was all the potential harm she needed to protect her from.

Grace had told her that this feeling would eventually wear off, but if Huxley was perfectly honest, she didn't want it to. It was nice to be careful and gentle for a change.

The baby had been wailing for a good ten minutes before Grace entered the room, but Hazel did not stir until Grace switched on the lights.

"What?" She sat up in bed and looked around in confusion. "Mom? What happened?"

"He's been screaming for a while, darling."

"He has? I-I thought I was dreaming..." Hazel hunched forward and gripped her head with trembling hands. "He didn't... scream when it happened. There was no time. Just the explosion--" She choked on those last words. Then, suddenly, she seemed to grasp where she was and scrambled out of bed.

Grace frowned and and moved to comfort her daughter, who had started sobbing again, but the baby's screams had become more insistent. "Go back to sleep, darling," she told her. "I'll take care of him."

Hazel crawled back under the sheets and Grace rocked the baby long after he'd fallen asleep. Icarus, Hazel had named him. Grace sighed.

Hours later, Hazel dragged herself out of bed again.

The night air was piercing cold. She barely noticed it. Snow had fallen overnight, covering everything in a layer of white, but for some reason it felt like a punch to her gut when she saw that Aidan's grave was snowed over as well.

She set the flowers she brought down by the tombstone before bursting into tears. "I can't do this alone. How am I supposed to do this without you, Aidan?"

She cried and cried until exhaustion made her curl up on the stone bench nearby.

She must have drifted off to sleep, because suddenly a weird feeling jolted her awake.

It was cold, but it wasn't from the snow all around her. This was a different kind of cold, one that permeated her from the inside out, as if her bones were suddenly made of ice.

And then she saw him. Floating towards her was a tall figure, intangible, fuzzy around the edges, but still undeniably him. Aidan.

"I'm dreaming again, aren't I," she wondered aloud.

His lips moved in response. If there was a sound, it was too faint to hear.

But when his hand touched her cheek, the cold from before seemed to melt away. His touch was warm and gentle, just like it had always been. Hazel closed her eyes and for a moment she was transported back to a summer's day in the park.

"You need to try." His voice. Barely audible, but it was there. "You need to do it for him. I know you can."

Hazel tilted her head in confusion. "I... I don't understand. What do you need me to do?"

He took both her hands in his, but even as their warmth enveloped hers, Hazel could feel them fading away.

His words were less than a whisper now, "Be strong."

She couldn't recall lying down again, but Hazel awoke on the cold stone bench as if she'd never moved from it. Maybe she hadn't.

Hazel sat up and stretched her aching body when the crunch of snow announced another sim's approach.

"Sadie?" For a moment, Hazel was perplexed to see Aidan's youngest sister here. Then again, she supposed she wasn't the only one mourning Aidan. She got up and rushed over to the teen.

Sadie made a face. "What are you doing here? Didn't you, like, just have a baby?"

"I saw him," Hazel sputtered, "I saw him, Sadie! I thought it was a dream at first, but this was different. He's still here, somehow. A part of him, at least. Some kind of energy--what people anecdotally describe as spirits, maybe? You know what this means, right?" Hazel's words tumbled from her mouth, her gestures growing increasingly frantic as she went on.

"What the..."

 "I know! Isn't it incredible? The scientific implications are baffling, to say the least... but if there is an actual tangible imprint of his life force still around, that means that he isn't really gone! And since it must be either mass or energy, there hast to be be a way to contain or redirect it. Which means that..."

Sadie had begun to back away slowly, but Hazel pulled the bewildered teen into a hug. "Don't worry, Sadie," she sobbed, "I'll bring him back. I have to try. He asked me to."

Sadie frowned and patted the weeping woman's back.

***

As magical as those first days of being a mother were, Grace still remembered how challenging it could be as well. Some children were more difficult than others, even long past their infancy. Grace had often wondered how her oldest daughter would fare as an adult, considering how troublesome she'd been growing up.

But Huxley had really stepped up. She spent every waking minute with Ivy and the delight she took in her daughter was palpable.

Hazel on the other hand, was seldom seen around Icarus.

The only signs of her presence were the new toys she periodically left around for the baby. Grace and Adam, who made sure that the boy was taken care of, often wondered if they needed to have a serious talk with their daughter.

However, Hazel was so distraught by grief, it was impossible to get her to focus on conversations. They certainly couldn't demand that she take on the weighty task of caring for a newborn.

She had hardly left the lab these past few days, but her family decided it would be best to give her time to grieve. While she was in in the lab, at least she wasn't crying uncontrollably.

...most of the time.

***

Things had been awkward between them as Huxley opened the door and led him upstairs, but when Theo picked up the little girl, he beamed.

"I wish I could've been there for the birth," he sighed. "I wish you'd called me."

Huxley gave a snort of indignation. "I was kind of preoccupied at the time. And it wasn't pretty. Besides, I..." She cleared her throat. "I didn't know if you wanted to see me again."

Theo had his back turned to her, but she could see him tense up. His voice was flat as he said, "We have a child together now, Huxley, and I'm planning on being a part of her life. So even if I didn't want to see you... I would."

It wasn't the warmest of replies, but Huxley felt emboldened nonetheless.

She cleared her throat again before speaking. "So I've been thinking... my mom said she'd be happy to watch Ivy for one or two nights a week. Which means that we can totally start practicing again, maybe even play a few gigs--"

Theo put the now sleeping baby back in her crib, turned to face Huxley and spoke in an even voice. “I’m not coming to band practice again, Huxley.”

“Come on," she coaxed, "You know Offbeat Autonomy needs you! It was always you and me, since the beginning, but then you stopped coming. And now Ethan too. He’s acting like an old geezer lately, he’s been so lame since he...”

“Got married? I went to his wedding. He and Chantrelle are very happy.”

That was all it took to make Huxley's temper flare up again. “It has to come back to that, huh? I’m not going to marry you, Theo. Sheesh!”

“I know that.”

“So stop bringing it up," she hissed. "I’m still pissed you tried to put me on the spot when I was feeling like shit.”

“You’re taking offense at something most women dream of.”

“Go put a ring on one of those women then.”

“I have.”

“What?”

“I met someone, at Ethan’s wedding.”

Huxley furrowed her brows for a moment, confused. Then her lip curled into a snarl. “And you’ve proposed to her already? Well, I can’t have been that special to you then.”

Now it was Theo's turn to pause. “You were the most special person to me, Huxley. But now I know that you’ll never be able to give me what I need.”

“A housewife?” she sneered.

“A family,” he snapped. “That’s all I ever wanted. With you.” He looked unbelievably hurt. “But I can’t let you string me along anymore. It’s destroying me.”

He turned to leave. Huxley stood rooted to the spot in stunned silence.

Halfway down the stairs, he looked back and said, “I’m still going to keep seeing Ivy.”

It took her a moment to reply. “S-sure. Whatever you…” But Theo had already left.

*

Some things are only truly felt once they are absent...

...but nature abhors a vacuum.





_______________

So yeah... Hazel's roll is single+help :,(

For my fellow ghost aficionados: I turned Aidan into a meteor strike ghost because the faces of the time anomaly ghosts are too difficult to see. Besides, I figured his cause of death was the explosion rather than time traveling issues and meteor strike = explosion.