Discounting some soft whimpers and the occasional unconscious whine, the babies in the maternity ward were asleep as I entered the room in the afternoon. I nodded a short greeting at Thomas Whitman, who was standing just inside the door, before walking up to the bassinet marked 'Baby Parker'. The newborn was deeply asleep, wrapped up in a white blanket with a small purple-and-pink striped beanie on her head.
I paused, hit by the innocence of the small human baby. The baby of our most recent gaea. The whole community was hoping that this newborn would be a gaea too, but it was still too soon to tell.
But I didn't have to look too close before something else about her made my heart fly off into a wild gallop.
Looking past her lightly parted lips, the relaxed features of her face, and tuning in to the soft breathing sounds she was making in her sleep, I already suspected that she actually was a gaea. Just like her mother.
But that wasn't the observation that had the skin on my forehead break out into cold sweat. There was something about her aura.
Auras matured with age; grew brighter and more vibrant, gradually extending further out from the body. Hence, the auras of practically all babies was a faint white light shimmering about half an inch around the contours of their small bodies.
But the Parker girl's aura reminded me of the aura of my own 3-months-old son. Just like his, her area was blinding if you focused directly on it. The innocent white color, representing the pureness of the baby's experiences and feelings, was glowing and billowing far outside of her body.
White contains all colors of the rainbow - it's simple science - and I had always thought it was best represented in the auras of children. In children - where their energies were balanced - equal amounts of all the wavelengths of light created the white glow.
Twisting agitation squeezed my stomach. I had only seen this type of aura once in my entire life. Around my own son. Its rarity had only recently been explained to me.
And now Nancy Parker's child appeared to have the same one-in-a-billion type of aura.
What did this mean? What did it mean for the Parker girl? What did it mean for Max?
"Everything okay, Philip?" Thomas asked behind me.
I straightened, brushed off my feelings, and gave the man (who had his own baby on the way) an impassive look. "Of course, Thomas."
Thomas nodded, his face revealing nothing, but his aura revealing plenty. He was suspicious.
I found solace in the fact that only healers could see auras in this way. Even if empaths, like Thomas Whitman, read emotions in the vibrations of the air around an individual, they never saw true colors. Consequently, if the similarities of the auras of my own son and the daughter of a gaea were of importance, no one else would know about it.
I gave the Parker girl a final look, before turning away and walking towards the door. Upon leaving the room, I told Thomas tensely, "Don't let her out of your sight."
"Philip," Thomas objected, confusion blotching his aura brown, "I have to keep an eye on Nancy. I can't stay here-"
"I'll keep an eye on Nancy," I assured him and nodded towards the baby. "You stay here. She's important, this one."
Max's father didn't grant us even a second of contemplation over what he had just shown us, instead rushing into the next memory.
As it started to take form, with Diane propped up against the headboard of a bed, with a small child in her arms, I realized that Mr. Evans wasn't necessarily feeding us the memories chronologically.
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Unbreakable - A Beautiful Lie · (Roswell Fanfiction) · √Fanfiction
I saw him right before Max did. When he did, his gasped "Fuck" magnified the jump of fear made by my body when I found myself standing merely two feet from an alien. His large bottomless black eyes were staring emptily into mine and I could see the...