Falling Skies

Fourteen

Jenn can no longer sit in silence, her fingers intertwined in her lap as she bites at her quick-flicking tongue, holding back any regrettable words she might let past her muzzle. "He will be the end of Haven." She whispers, head downcast and body rigid, waiting for her son to speak down to her. "You forget," she sighs as her eyes trace the river-like fractures in the table ahead of her to avoid his burning gaze. "Judas was once a disciple."

December laughs, his entire body shifting with each shoulder raising cough that escapes his tight pressed throat. The sound comes from somewhere foreign, too deep to be from his own body as he wipes his bloody hand across his brow, removing a stray brown hair that lingered there. "And Lucifer was once an angel, don't make yourself sound so innocent when you're not."

The stillness in the air coagulates, both parties gasping for air in the rotting thickness.

"This is God's Work through God's Creation, have you forgotten that?" Haven's motto is drawn out slow, as if the words must be poured off her tongue with the thickness of honey and syrup. Yet a kick of spice follows each syllable, her threats not yet ready to back down and submit to the boy she brought into this world.

"This started as us wanting to help this world! We wanted to end all of the death and destruction that was happening outside of these doors!" December cries, hand somehow finding itself back into the pile of shattered glass below him though he doesn't care, he just needs something, anything, to support him so his body doesn't collapse before her. "Yet somehow you took His word and you twisted it like you do with everything else, Mother. And you turned this into helping yourself. How many years has it been!? And what have we accomplished other than the death and destruction we sought out to prevent?"

Jenn pushes herself out of her chair, body slightly trembling as she locks her fingers around December's forearm. The cotton-like material of his old lab coat rough against the sensitive flesh of her palms. She can barely see, vision blurred by anger and red hot tears that stain her face, pulling the skin taut beneath them.

Jenn pulls at the fraying cloth and forces him away from the destruction he has caused, silently dragging him through those white halls until they arrive where it started. They stare into the door of the delivery room as she unlocks the cursed door, dragging him further into the room.

They travel past abandoned trucks and empty cages, a heavy scent of metal clinging to the walls of the area as she pushes forward without a word. Her grip only tightens on the boy's coat as he follows her to the back of the room, past two more metal cages at least three feet tall and a few feet wide, thankfully seeming unused.

"Do you see this door?" She chokes out, letting go of his sleeve with a malicious jerk.

He glances past her, the door like any other that resides within Haven, pure silver metal with a small keypad, the standard formula it seems.

"Yeah?"

Within four numbers the gears within it creak, December flinching slightly at the sound. It's obvious the door hasn't been opened in years, the metal gears crashing against one another with an excruciating grind. He presses a palm to his ear as the slow screech continues until breaking to a halt in seconds.

The woman merely pushes at the metal, the door swinging open with a struggle as its rusty hinges plead to be abandoned for good, the metal not used to anyone stopping by, nonetheless putting it to use.

December's eyes widen as he follows the woman two steps across the metal threshold, his boots sinking into an unknown material. This is the Earth. Somehow he never knew what it looked like outside of a journal's illustration, the air so much thinner here than two steps back, each cold slice piercing his lungs until his breaths burn. But he refuses to back down, instead, taking two steps further until his mother's hand presses against his chest, pushing the rough material of his old coat into his chest and scratching the skin slightly.

The grass is so green. A deep emerald hue that washes over the land and strikes against the soft gray of the sky, a small gleam cast over the wet grass that could only be from last night's rain. The scent of the air gives the answer away, a wet, dirty aroma attacking his nose as it turns up slightly at the unfamiliar scent.

Far in the distance lies a sight he's never seen, a lush green covering the sky supported by lines the color of his office bookshelves. He can only assume that it's the woods, the entity seeming so strange, a slight fear overcoming him at the sight of the towering trees.

Hastily, he turns to his mother, one brow cocked in confusion before turning his attention back to the outside world, the sight branding itself into his memories. "Why are you showing me this?"

"Because it was something that you needed to see. This," she gestures around her with an outstretched palm, eyes following the curve of the woods and dance of the grass. "is what we are fighting to protect, December. God made this Earth for us and it's our life's work to keep it that way."

It's his turn to falter, to struggle for the words to say as the cuspidated air bores into his chest. A sharp pain hits him as if deep enough to draw blood, his damaged hand running its length over the phantom wound. "Mom..." he's at a loss for words, body turning from the outside world and staring into the white abyss of Haven, home now a foreign word and stranger sensation. "I-I..."

"You don't have to say anything." Her small hand cusps the bottom of her son's back, face an empty slate though there's a hint of a victory in her voice, the edges of her words curving into the slightest of smirks. "But now you know why I work so hard to protect you." She coos, pulling the metal door shut behind her with a deadening slam.

December doesn't face her, the image of the outside world still burned onto oceanic eyes that compliment his mother's. Yet now they seem so different, as if both hold the same key to parallel worlds: one of peace and one of war. Tightly, he shuts his eyes, hands balling into a fist in response as the crunch of glass makes itself known in his grasp, pinpricks sprinkling the flesh as he grips tighter.

His mind can only travel back to moments ago, the image of the trees, the grey sky, the scent of the earth all too overwhelming to only last a few seconds. He needs a lifetime to process it, to understand what else is out there.

"December, people were dying because of the Sky Fall. I couldn't just sit around when I had the skills to help this race survive."

He doesn't turn to face her, or even acknowledge the sound of her voice as his mind is too far gone, lost to the presence of the unknown and to the spell of the Earth.

Slowly, his fists unball, eyes opening to the disappointing glow of the fluorescent lights, their electronic buzz filling in the gaps that his lingering breaths leave.

"Mom, I have to go." It's an imperceptible beg, face contorted into a sense of pain before he rushes out of the room, heading to the only place he knows will have the answers he desperately needs.