Author: Cyberwolf PM
Destiny universe. In a world full of betrayal and tangled loyalties, does blood still count for anything? Should it? [Chapter 1 up] Planned pairings: AxC, but not main.Rated: Fiction T - English - Adventure/Drama - Shinn A. - Chapters: 2 - Words: 1,726 - Reviews: 4 - Follows: 1 - Updated: 06-26-05 - Published: 06-11-05 - id: 2432585
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Prologue: Like the Light From the Morning Sun
fall into a light sleep Watashi ni michiru
I don't carry out yakusoku wa yagate
Itsukano Kagayaki suteta
Kaerenai asa no hikari noyou
Fall into a light sleep, it encompasses my very being
I never carry out my promises
So long ago, I threw away my brightness
And like the light from the morning sun, it can never return.
-Half-Pain, Witch Hunter Robin ED
He'd been a mistake.
Unlike Naturals, Coordinators did not feel the need to use birth control. The odds of conceiving, especially with a partner who was not a genetic match, were so slight as to not even be a factor. In fact, it was common for Coordinators – both male and female – to take fertility drugs in order to obtain a much-wanted child. The last thing anyone worried about was an unplanned pregnancy.
Nonetheless, that was the situation she found herself in.
The doctor who had informed her of her new condition did so with a smile, never doubting that this was a dream come true for the young woman in front of him. Her silence he attributed to wordless happiness. The absence of her husband – for of course she was married, how else could she be pregnant? – well, that was easily explained. No doubt the man was unavoidably engaged – there was no lack of things for anyone to be doing, what with the economy kicking into high-gear and the tension building between the PLANTs and the Earth Alliance. Smiling in empathic joy for her, the doctor carefully advised her as to what diet to follow, what she could and could not do as her pregnancy progressed, and a myriad other things that Coordinator women had to consider when carrying a precious, precious baby to term. He then set an appointment for her to come back in for a check-up – Coordinator pregnancies were as carefully monitored as any of their ZAFT combat operations.
When he never saw the woman again, he sadly concluded that she had suffered a miscarriage – an all-too-frequent occurrence among the population, even with the best efforts of everyone involved.
As a matter of fact, the young woman in question had carried the baby to term, and gave birth just as the digital calendars shifted from August 31 to September 1 – PLANT time being set to Greenwich Mean. The baby was completely healthy, which surprised her a little, and she was so very happy that he was, which surprised her even more. When the nurse came in with her son – her son! – and laid him in her arms – when the baby boy, whose motor-control skills seemed strangely developed, even for a Coordinator baby, gripped her finger in one tiny hand – when her wondering, tearful eyes wandered over him, noticing all too well the genetic markers already in his features, traces of his father and his mother underneath the baby-fat – when she cradled him and understood fully how much a part of her – and him – this new fragile life was, she almost decided not to give him to the adoptive family she'd carefully and secretly arranged for.
She'd never met the young couple until the day they came to take her baby away. She tried very hard not to look at them; the tears in her eyes would have made seeing them clearly a difficult task, anyway. She could hear them speaking to her, and she thought she actually responded verbally once or twice, but everything – once she could think clearly – seemed a blur in her memories. There was not much paperwork involved – they hadn't gone through any official agencies. And she'd insisted. The new 'father' had made – or had got a friend to make, she couldn't remember – birth certificates and other such documents for the baby. They offered to give her contact information, but she refused. She wanted to make the break clean and final – it would be too painful otherwise.
So they left, with her child in their arms, and something inside her broke beyond all healing.
Oh yeah, the baby ain't a fanmade New Character. Can't stand them. And I have just deleted a rant on NCs that really has no place in the author's note for a prologue.