Unending

Author: hah
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I own nothing Roswell. I wish I did
Summary:: Mi/I -- Isabel discovers you can't go home again. (Isabel POV, AU) Part 1/4 of the "Undaunted" series.
Author's Notes: Special thanks to Debbie, my beta, and all the people who have sent me feedback.

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Another wave of pain washes over me, and I scream again. Even to me, my voice sounds raw. And my throat hurts; I can barely swallow the trickle of water from the ice Michael rubs over my lips.

I have a couple of pain-free minutes now, I think, and my thoughts turn to the events that led me here. To this hard bed in this sterile, white room surrounded by cold, uncaring staff.

It started when we received word from the home planet. Word that Khivar had been deposed in a coup organized by an opposition group. We were invited home, invited to return and accept our rightful place. Home. We'd had a home, and people who loved us, but we couldn't accept that. We gave it up for something new, something unknown. The thought almost makes me laugh. But I can't, not here. Any sign of human emotion is unacceptable here.

Pain hits me anew, and the scream rips from my throat. Screaming, it seems, is allowed.

I pant as the contraction tears through my abdomen. They're getting closer together; I hope it won't be long.

When word came, Michael and Tess were ecstatic. Everything they had hoped for, had dreamed of, seemed to become reality. Max and I were more reserved. Max, because that's the way he is. Me, because I was happy here. Or there, I mean. On Earth. But it was our destiny, and we couldn't refuse. We should have.

The good-byes were hard. Liz, Maria, Kyle, Alex. Out by the reservoir we gathered to say good-bye to the best friends we'd ever had. And, for some of us, our first loves. Our only loves. For me though, leaving Mom and Dad was the hardest. Mom didn't, couldn't, understand what was happening. She threatened to call the sheriff. To report Max and me as runaways. Neither of us had the heart to tell her that Sheriff Valenti already knew. In the end, we slipped out of Max's bedroom window and into the night. We --

Oh, god, it hurts. Michael's hands hold mine, and I dig my nails into the flesh of his palms. I know it has to hurt; my nails, my once beautiful, manicured nails, are now ragged and broken. But Michael never flinches. I guess those years of living with Hank are finally good for something. When the pain ends, Michael shifts slightly, his eyes meeting mine. I can see his concern, see the pain he feels for me. I know he would take the pain if he could. If only he could.

In the still of the night we traveled to the designated meeting place, the granilith chamber. Max keyed in the commands we had been given by the envoy and the device glowed with an eerie light. Time seemed to stop, then speed up. One minute we were on Earth; the next, we were here.

Our return was not what we expected. No joyous welcome, no fanfare, no adoring public. Instead we were met by armed guards and ushered into a vehicle. And then we were brought here. It didn't take long to realize we weren't the returning prodigals. We were prisoners. Max and Michael tried to fight but our powers… Even Tess, the strongest of us, was rebuffed easily. Our powers were no match. That renders them basically useless here.

The next contraction hits without warning. This has been going on for hours; surely my body can't take any more. Just cut me open and take it out, I want to scream. But somehow I don't think that would go over well; I'm afraid of their reaction.

It took longer to realize we were much more than prisoners; we were experiments. These people didn't want their former rulers back. That regime hadn't been popular the first time around. But our genes, this curious mix of DNA, those were quite desirable, I guess. We were poked and prodded and tested endlessly. It was painful and it was humiliating, but the worst was yet to come.

They paired us off, two by two. Like a sick Noah's ark. Max and Tess, me and Michael. They…oh, god. Even now I try to block those memories. They made us…mate. It wasn't making love; it wasn't sex. It was copulation, plain and simple. Michael was as gentle as possible, but we were both scared and embarrassed. And a room full of people on the other side of a glass wall didn't help. Thankfully, I conceived quickly and the forced mating sessions ended.

This time my screams and my grip on Michael's hands do nothing to ease the pain. I had asked for drugs in the beginning. Begged for them. With scornful looks they denied my request. Drugs might hurt the baby, they said. The contractions are closer together; hopefully this will end soon.

The poking and prodding continued after conception. This time they were gentle. Gentler, at least. I saw Tess once or twice during my pregnancy. She looked haggard and drawn. And, when she began to show, the pregnancy dwarfed her small frame. We weren't allowed to speak, but I tried to convey my love and support with a smile. I don't know if it helped or not; I haven't seen her since.

The pain is unending now. The figure standing between my legs is urging me to push. Michael is whispering the same thing into my ear; his voice, at least, is caring. He wants this over with as much as I do.

<>*<>*<>*<>*<>

It's over now. God, I thought it would never end. My body is screaming; I thought the pain would end with the birth. It's lessened, but there's still a throb. The last of the figures in white has left the room, taking the…experiment. I can't, won't, call it a child, my child. A child is conceived in love. I love Michael; some days, he's the only thing keeping me sane. But that isn't our child.

Michael and I are alone in the room now. With a trace of the old Michael, he glares at the door that just closed and moves to sit behind me. He cradles me in his arms. "It's over, Isabel," he whispers in my ear. "It'll be ok."

It's over, but I don't know if it will ever be ok.

I close my eyes and press myself closer to him.

I want to go home.

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