Emerson

Since the day my name was drawn from the lottery, every time I look at Tia all I see is a future. So, when the ultrasound monitor reveals that she is carrying six babies, it’s as if the life I’ve dreamed of sharing with her vanishes before my very eyes.

Hope flickers then fades. And all I see is the darkness and despair that the days ahead will bring. Because this isn’t an enemy I can fight. It isn’t a foe I can protect her from.

In the end, it will be the future we all prayed for that will eventually take our wife from us.

Six babies.

Despair beats wildly against my chest.

All my life, I’ve tried my best to be an optimist, refusing to let anger override my emotions -- but right now, for the first time in a long ass time, it’s hard to remain calm.

I want to scream at the scientists who created this epidemic in the first place. I want to push Lawson against the wall and let him know what I think about his ethics because if he hadn’t shown up here demanding her, she wouldn’t have felt the pressure to get pregnant. The pressure to take the fertility drugs Banks offered.

Part of me wants to blame Banks, even though I know he was only trying to save her. And then there’s that deeper place in my soul that condemns my own actions. My own desires. Because I wanted this. I wanted to start a family with my wife. To have children. Even though I knew the dangers.

But then I look at my wife and I know I have to push those thoughts away. Tia needs me. Now more than ever. She wipes away the tears that have fallen down her cheeks, resolve is in her words, and fire in her eyes, and I know that my anger -- however righteous it may be -- has no place here.

Tia needs me to be strong, the way she needs all of her husbands to be strong. And I sure as hell have no intention of letting her down.

“What do you need, Tia? Food, a bath, fresh air?” I ask this even though the other men are shaking their heads, upset with her decision to continue with the pregnancy.

But I am not other men. I have seen a baby come into this world, I know what is possible. And an idea comes to me.

Hope flares once again with possibilities.

“I want testing done,” she says to me, before turning to Banks. “Before anything else, we need to know everything we possibly can about these babies and my odds.”

“Okay.” Banks nods, but I can see he is still struggling.

“And we need to do it in secret.” She wrings her hands together, brows drawn, her mind clearly searching through all the scenarios that lie ahead. “If word got out about me being pregnant with six babies…” She shakes her head, flustered. “We can’t let any media become involved.”

Salinger clears his throat. “Let’s go to my mother’s facility. She’ll help us keep things private. They’re more private than the government labs.”

“Good idea,” Banks says, nodding and dragging a hand over the back of his neck. But he seems more intent to take action, rather than wallow in the doubt and despair we’re all clearly feeling. As much as I don’t like him, I give him credit for that. For how hard he’s fought to keep Tia safe. He trains his gaze on Salinger. “Give her a call and I’ll get a few things rounded up. Tia, can you leave in a half hour?”

She nods.

I glance around the room, catching Fallon’s eyes. I can tell the last thing he wants, is to watch his wife leave after such paramount news. None of us do, I feel the mood shift as Giles, Hux, Fallon, and I consider her going.

“I don’t really want you out of my sight,” I admit, feeling protective. I trust the other guys… but this is my wife. Carrying my children.

Tia looks at me with surprise. “Oh.”

Everyone turns to me, and I realize I rarely speak up like this. I don’t usually say what I need. I’ve had plenty of experience laying down my own wants for the good of the whole.

But now, looking at Tia, I wonder if I have spent too much time agreeing and not enough time making demands.

Would things have been different with Helene and Mason if I had refused what my family wanted?

Of course, they would have.

It kills me to think Helene’s life would have been better if I’d made different choices. But it’s a decade too late to reconsider our decision. We both made that bed and we have to lie in it.

But now it’s like I have a second shot. Another chance. Now I can make my wrongs right.

I only hope Mason will forgive me one day for not fighting for him.

“I’m not trying to be pushy,” I say, reaching out and tucking her hair behind her ear. “I just hate the idea of not being with you through all of this.”

Tia walks over to me and wraps her arms around my neck. “I know. And I love that about you, Em. But this isn’t a typical marriage. As much as I want you all there, all seven of us can’t traipse into a lab and not raise flags.” She brushes her lips against mine. “And I won’t be gone long.”

I groan, knowing she’s right, but fucking hating the idea of my wife getting bad news and not having me by her side.

“Hey,” she says softly, her palm resting on my chest, hazel eyes full of emotion when she holds my gaze. “You have next week off, right? We can spend time together then. Just you and me.”

I nod. I have leave days I’m required to take every quarter. “You’re right. It would be too much to all show up there together. But I’m going to hold you to that promise.”

She presses her cheek against my chest. “I love you,” she says, then looking back up, she adds, “But don’t worry about me. I’m stronger than I look.”

I kiss her softly, knowing she’s exactly right.

Tia is strong, a force to be reckoned with. And I count my blessings for that because I know better than anyone else here what my wife is going to be up against.

I’ve already been through it once before.

While Tia’s lab results are being processed, we all try to keep things light-hearted for her. But her stress is evident. She’s not sleeping well, dark circles are under her eyes. She has no appetite and Salinger’s mother’s initial reports said that she has low iron and high blood pressure.

Already, her body is fighting against the hope she carries inside her.

It’s not clear how many of the fetuses are girls, but Banks has already confirmed that at least one is. He’s started his treatment, which means multiple shots and pills every day for her. And I can see the strain it’s taking on her body and mind.

What my wife needs is to clear her head, get her mind off finding a cure and focus on staying healthy.

Each one of us, her husbands, the men who swore to protect her, try our best to keep her relaxed, happy, but I know she can see through the act most of the men in the house are presenting.

The truth is, they are as anxious as she is. Every time any of us men are alone together, the conversation turns dark -- quickly.

“It’s not viable, and the sooner she realizes that the better,” Huxley says one morning as the two of us shovel the last of the snow from the driveway.

I don’t say anything, I just keep my head down. I don’t want to argue. The truth is, I know Tia is deadset on carrying our babies to term, or for however long her body will allow her to.

The last thing she needs is anyone doubting her. Things have changed for our family. She’s a mother now. Her main goal is keeping our children safe, making sure each one is able to take their first breath.

And we all need to respect that, even if it scares the shit out of us.

“If something happens to her, how can we live with ourselves?” Huxley continues, dropping his shovel.

The work is done, and as we catch our breath I look up into the clear blue sky, a new season underway.

“Your attitude isn’t helping anything,” I tell him, even though his words echo my fears. “Right now we should be positive, that’s what Tia needs.”

“Well, I’m fucking positive this is going to end badly.”

Huxley’s beating a dead horse, and it’s time his tune changed.

Or maybe I just need a change. My dad told me the island is beginning to tease us with spring. And with it, life. New plants are already pushing through the ground, and lambs, calves, and foals will soon be born.

The circle of life.

But our children are due in the winter when life fades, and the world turns barren. I shake away the thought. And instead, think of home.

The elevation is lower there and we get a lot less snow. There hasn’t been a trace of white in six weeks. My mother told me the last time we spoke, that the grass is greener than ever and they are preparing to plant the garden. It was always one of my favorite times of the year. We worked hard, but we had hope for what our toil would bring.

I need a reminder of that hope now.

“I’m going home in a few days,” I tell him, making the decision as I speak. “To see my family, help with the planting.” Placing my shovel down, I add, “And Tia is coming with me.”

Hux frowns. “Does anyone else know this?”

Shaking my head I give him an answer I’m sure he isn’t expecting from me, “No. But it’s happening.”

I’m not asking permission, I’m taking what both my wife and I need.

A moment of happiness.