August

May 27: Saturday

Saul Jefferson had called the CEC the night before to come and examine the body of his dead carrier son. He suspected something - what, he wasn't sure, but he know that something just seemed off.

It hadn't taken the medical team long to realize that Joshua Jefferson hadn't died of complications from the Change - he had died of a miscarriage.
They took blood back to the lab.
An induced miscarriage.

Saul Jefferson had spent the better part of the night being questioned in a dank room on base, but in the end, he had known nothing, seen nothing, and had no idea who would have done this to his son.

On the other side of the two-way glass, the young Investigator knocked over a chair and slammed the door behind him.
"Fucking Dothan freaks! I swear that father knows something, I swear he fucking does."
The unit supervisor looked up calmly from a stack of photographs laid out over the table.
"Mac, the man passed the biometrics. He's not lying. Leave him alone."
The investigator stomped over to the window, looking out through the glass at Saul Jefferson, who had his head resting on his crossed arms on the table. The Investigator stared at Saul. Saul stared at nothing.
"Well, somebody knows something. Somebody's responsible." the younger man jabbed the table with one finger, his knuckles white from the effort of clenching his fists together. "And I want to know who."
Still shivering with anger and indignation, he wandered back over to the two-way window that looked in on the silent, grieving father.
"Fucking Dothan freaks." he said again, under his breath. "Goddamn cults."

~:~

Sheridan and James woke up late and decided to treat themselves to an elaborate breakfast. James did the omelette and sliced meats; Sheridan was assigned to pancakes, sliced fruit, and juice. They turned on the radio and bopped along to music as they passed by each other in the kitchen. Mornings were never this relaxed with Harley and Soyinka here; one or the other always had to be up early for a meeting, or a class, or to work out, or one of a million other reasons that made them grouchy and hungry.

Now, with just the two of them there, the morning could go along more slowly. Sheridan glanced over to see how James' first omelette was coming along, and caught sight of the man at the tail end of a rather wild dance to some old song on the radio. He sputtered laughter, and James stopped, getting a little red in the face before laughing and dancing more wildly, all over again. This time, he got Sheridan in on the act, and the two shared a half-minute of wild, spinning, glorious euphoria - a moment of no telephones, no assignments, no husbands, no obligations, nothing to be done or handled or cleaned or put away; just themselves and a little breakfast and a happy song on the radio.

Then James took Sheridan by the hand, twirled him around, and suddenly kissed him. The moment imploded in on itself.
Sheridan pushed him away, harder than he'd intended.
"Are you crazy?!"
James just blinked at him for a second; his head was still caught up in the spinning, in the music and the dance.
"I - I didn't - "
Sheridan turned away, the back of one hand to his mouth.
"Harley already thinks you're lying, and now you just want to go and put fuel on his fire."
Sheridan rubbed his hand over his mouth and turned back to James, who was standing in the middle of the kitchen looking forlorn. Sher sighed and wiped his hands on the apron he'd tied around his waist.
"Listen, it's just - it's not a good idea, OK? Besides, I told you - we're friends."
James just kept standing there, in the middle of the floor, staring as if in a trance. Sheridan frowned.
"James? You hear me? I said we're friends."
James came to life then, crossing his arms over his chest and turning his head away from Sher.
"I didn't mean it like that." he muttered.
There was a silence; an exposed moment when Sheridan could have called him on that lie, injured him deeply. He didn't.
"OK. Well, still. We talked about this."
James shrugged, suddenly petulant.
"It was just a kiss."
Sheridan ran a hand over his hair where it had been pulled up in a knot away from his face.
"Well. Not to Harley."
James lifted his head and met Sheridan's eyes. Sheridan blinked. For less time than it had taken him to reason that he must be imagining it, James' face had looked different - it had...darkened somehow. Then the apparition passed and James was just James again, petulant and ever desirous of things he shouldn't have.
"Harley's not here."
Sheridan shook his head.
"James. Please."
James looked up at him, clear blue eyes meeting brown. He held Sheridan's gaze.
"Fine. I'm sorry."
It came out so bitter that it kept the conversation from being over, and they both stood there for a minute, uncertain who should have the next say. Sheridan broke the stalemate first; they had both gotten distracted, and now the eggs were burning.

~:~

The Council had co-opted Will Mackenzie's study for the questioning. As the leader on disciplinary affairs, the responsibility fell to him anyway. Now he stood in the dimly lit room, dressed only white, save for the symbols of Dothan that were painted along his arms. The sixteen other members of the council sat behind him, in folding chairs. The compound's only doctor, Eugene Step, sat alone in a desk chair in the front of the room. Electrodes along his arms and torso connected him to the metering machine, the heavy monster on wheels, to his left.

Will Mackenzie stood before the good doctor, his arms at his sides. He spoke slowly.
"You have to tell us, Gene. You tell us or we're all in trouble."
In front of him, the doctor was shaking, his hands trembling as he pushed his glasses up on his nose.
"I don't - I can - there's - I haven't done anything, Will."
Will Mackenzie shook his head.
"The boy is dead, Gene."
"It wasn't my fault!"
"Joshua is dead, Gene." Will repeated.
"I know! I know!" the doctor's voice cracked. "But it wasn't my fault." his lip trembled. Will Mackenzie tilted his head.
"Then whose fault was it, Gene?"
Dr. Step shook his head; tears were creeping down his plump cheeks now. He hung his head.
"The gods. It was them."

~:~