The hot Mexican sun beat down overhead. It was only a few hours into the morning, but already its rays scorched the earth. Waves of heat danced above the ground, casting out mirages. But not even those were enough to stop the crawl of infect sweeping through the streets of a small town. Once it had thrived in the heat of summer as a tourist hotspot, now it stank of decaying flash, and all that thrived were insects feasting on the flesh of the infected.
An Imp roamed across the burning sand, completely ignorant of the heat surrounding it. The waves of the ocean rolled in and out, but the creature paid them no mind. It roamed its way across the beach, lazily taking in the surroundings. Bodies of infected lined the beach. Their rate of decay varied. Some were days old, others could be only a few hours. The Imp looked at them as it passed by. Through the lens of his scope, Reaper watched as the Imp came into his line of sight. Buried beneath his own shelter, Reaper waited for the Imp to move closer. It slowly lined itself up. With a pull of the trigger, the dart silently sped out of the barrel and collided with the Imps' neck. The Imp cried out and thrashed its arms to the side, only to find nothing nearby. It stumbled unsteadily, staggering into the sand alongside its brethren. The Imp released a whine before collapsing into the sand dead.
Reaper rose out of the sand, tossing his cover into the ocean breeze. The breeze blew over his face, instantly cooling him down. For four days he'd taken cover beneath the sand and laid in waiting for the infected to cross his path. Most of the residence had been killed in the initial outbreak and those that had survived had been taken back to Nevada, but this mission wasn't about recovering survivors. It had been to test the antivirus dispersal technique. Since there was no guaranteed way to disperse the antivirus in a massive quantity in one go, they started testing single doses in darts. It was slower, but the results were just as deadly, and in the favor of the survivors.
Reaper reached for his pack by his foot and shouldered. It had lost much of its weight in his time spent in the sand, most of it being food, but he heaved it effortlessly onto his back. He pulled out his radio and turned it on. The commotion constantly coming over the radio had nearly blown his cover the first night. "Outpost Mike Xray, this is Reaper, do you copy?"
He waited a moment for the signal to reach the base. Given that there were always dozens of signals trying to get through, he wasn't surprised when he didn't receive an answer.
"Outpost Mike Xray, this is Reaper, do you copy?" he repeated.
"This is Outpost Mike Xray, we read you loud and clear Reaper. Good to hear your voice. Mission status?" came the reply.
"Mission status complete. Returning to outpost." Reaper stated.
"Cope that."
Reaper clipped his radio to his belt and started walking toward the outpost. It was station on the other side of the town, but with the darts working, there wasn't much to worry about. The mutation strain had been isolated on Olduvai. Mexico had been the test location Reaper had agreed on. It was small and nearby incase he needed to be evaded out. Without the infected around to wander, the resort seemed a lot nicer. The only that kept lingering in his mind was-
"Reaper, this is Outpost Mike Xray. We have a Code: White on Alpha Base. Repeat, we have a Code: White on Alpha Base. Transport ETA five minutes."
Reaper stopped in his tracks. He pulled off his radio. "Copy that, flares up." He quickly dropped his backpack to the ground and pulled out one of his retrieval flares. He triggered the flare and tossed into the sand in front of him. All the while, his mind was running a mile a minute. Code: White. Code: White. Vera. Vera was in labor. That was the one thing that he had feared while he was off base. He passed the sand near the flare, waiting anxiously for pick up.
He heard the chopper before he saw. The large vehicle had been pulled out of the hanger for emergency extraction operations, though everyone had hoped to use them in mass dispersal operations. The bird cruised through the air toward him. It barely hovered the ground before Reaper launched himself at it. He threw himself into the bay of the chopper, allowing the pilot to immediately take off again. He tossed his pack into the seat beside him and waited. He watched the area beneath slowly shift from the Mexican resort, to the California coastline, to the sands of Nevada. The hour flight seemed to drag by and yet disappeared before his eyes.
The chopper touched down, and much like in Mexico, Reaper launched himself out of the chopper before it made contact with the ground. He stormed toward the rising elevator, reaching it just as the doors opened. It came to no surprise that Stijin was standing the in elevator, waiting for him. Reaper entered quickly and stood beside Stijin. The doors closed and the body began to drop into the shaft.
"How is she?" Reaper asked. He dropped his gear, not caring about where it landed or what tumbled out of his pack.
"Considering she had the baby two days ago, they're doing good." Stijin answered.
His heart plummeted in his chest. All the energy was sucked from his body. Two days. He'd missed the birth by two days. Reaper sagged against the wall of the elevator in defeat. "Dammit."
"Don't beat yourself up Over this." Stijin said. "Vera wanted you on this mission, there wasn't anything you could've done to get out of it."
"I should've been here." Reaper shook his head. "Were there any complications?"
Stijin winced at the mention. He slowly nodded. "There was a...slight complication."
Reaper arched one of his brows. "How slight?"
"Your son decided to take after his mother and be difficult." Stijin answered.
Reaper lowered his face into a hand. "He was breach?"
"Yeah."
Reaper kicked the wall behind him. "Dammit! I knew this was going to happen."
"You and everyone else." Stijin replied. "Vera knew it. Sam knew it. The delivery team knew it. And they got through it. She's fine and so's the baby."
Reaper rubbed his face. He couldn't keep his mind off of the fact that Vera had just gone through a breach birth naturally. He knew she hated medications, but this was one time he'd hoped she would yield to the option. She was tough, but there was no need to prove it to anybody.
"Not to make light of the situation, but that woman has a mouth on her." Stijin stated. "If any of that had been in English, I think I would be deaf right now."
Reaper could help but choke out a laugh. He nodded slowly and looked at Stijin. "How much of it was in Russian?"
"About eighty percent." he answered with a shrug. "I recognized the Chinese before she switched to French. Then it was back to Russian. Good thing Sam knew what to do, that woman is terrifying in Russian." Stijin paused for a moment, looking ahead of him. "How much did Vera teach Sam anyways?"
Reaper arched a brow. "If Sam's pregnant, her expounding language is not going to be your concern for long."
Stijin turned to Reaper. "Oh god no. No! No! No! I was just asking for my sanities sake."
Reaper snorted as the doors opened. "You're sleeping with my sister, how much sanity do you have left?" He took off sprinting through the hall before Stijin had a chance to reply. He weaved around the people milling about the halls, booking it into the corridor.
Nine weeks after purging Olduvia hadn't given the survivors enough time to completely repair the station. Very few survivors wanted to risk returning to the facility, even after the bodies had been dealt with, but with the number of survivors, they had to be relocated. The facility wasn't as glorious as had been before the attack, but it still safer than Earth. Vera had refused to go back to Olduvai outright. It had nothing to do with the fact that she was pregnant and he was on Earth, but more with the facility had nearly gotten her killed one too many times for her liking.
Reaper turned the corner and nearly ran into Sam. He managed to come to a halt just a few inches from her. Sam turned around and nearly jumped out of her skin at seeing her brother behind her.
"God, John!" Sam cried. She smiled as she tried to catch her breath.
John chuckled breathlessly. "Sorry Sam."
Sam gave him a knowing smile. "I'll be by in a few hours to check up on them."
John smiled and quickly maneuvered around Sam. He jogged down the hall and took one final left, before coming to a stop outside their temporary quarters. He hit the control and slipped inside before the door had opened up completely. Two steps in, John came to a halt. In the far corner of the room, the cot was pressed up against the wall, where Vera lay fast asleep. Her back faced the wall while her faced the room. Her left hand hung over the edge of the cot and dipped into the storage crate that was settled beside it. John quietly stepped further into the room until he reached the bed. He eased himself onto the edge of the cot and peered down into the crate. His heart swelled at the sight.
The crate had been lined with whatever cloth that had been scavenged from the facilities. Old rags, clothes, and shredded remnants of tarps, provided a cushion for the small infant that lay nestled inside its walls. John stared down at the tiny infant in the crate. It was hardly half the crates size. The baby was wrapped in what looked like one of Vera's shirt remnants, securely wrapped to keep warm. His eyes were closed as he slumbered. His small head was covered, not with a hat, but with a black sock that someone had donated. Children had started life with less.
John cautiously reached down into the crate and took his son into his arms. There was hardly anything to the baby. John eased the baby into the crook of his left arm and held the baby against his body.
"How does it feel to be a dad?"
John looked up from his son to Vera. She was still lying on her side, but her eyes were one him. He could see the hints of exhaustion in her gaze. He could only imagine what she had been put through. "Different. How's it feel to be a mother?"
Vera's eyes drifted to the baby, but she remained silent. She pushed herself up and leaned against the wall. John watched her as she evaded his question. He carefully eased himself against the wall beside her, careful of the baby still in his arms. "Don't shut me out, Vera. Not now."
Vera closed her eyes and leaned her head against John's shoulder. "Unexpected."
"Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?"
"I don't know." she answered.
It was better than nothing, at least. John looked back down at the baby. He couldn't believe how something so small could captivate him so quickly. "I'm sorry I wasn't here."
"They needed the best on their missions." Vera said.
"You needed me more." he replied, looking down at her.
"Who told you?" Vera asked.
John shook his head. "It doesn't matter. You would've had another hand to crush. A deserving hand to crush, and someone to focus your angry cussing at." He paused for a moment. "Please tell me you took some for labor?"
Vera was silent, giving John the answer.
"Why?" he asked.
"I was allergic to it all." she answered quietly.
John closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall. It would figure. The one time Vera could consider taking narcotics was the one time she wasn't able to. "Dammit."
"It doesn't matter, John." Vera stated. "He's healthy, I'm healthy. What more do you want?"
"I'd settle for his name." John replied. "What have you been calling little Dimitrov?"
"You mean, Reaper Junior?" Vera smiled. "About that. I had a few ideas, but I wasn't going to decide until you got here."
"Bring it on."
"Johnathan Eric." She replied.
John looked down at the baby for a moment, adding the name to his small, you face. "Sounds kinda funny when add Dimitrov to it, though."
"You're saying it wrong." Vera replied. "It's Johnathan Eric Grimm."
John looked down at her again. "Just what is he getting from you?"
Vera gave him a slight smile. She reached over to her son and eased the sock off his head. Most babies were born with little hair or a lot of hair. But John hadn't expected what he saw. At first, he believed that he was looking a headful of tiny dark stubbles over his sons head. But these were merely his roots. The remainder of his hair was white. John chuckled.
"I'm only giving him the best of me." Vera replied. She slipped the sock back over the babies head. She gently stroked her finger over her son's cheek, relishing the feel. "He'll find out soon enough that his mother is incapable of feelings motherly emotions. The less he has of me the better." She moved from John's side and eased herself off the bed, putting as much physical distance between them as possible as the room allowed.
John watched her pace about the small room. He'd seen her act this way far too many times before. It killed him each and every time. She always thought the worst when everything was stacked against her. He couldn't hold that against her, not when her knew how her life went, but she needed to understand that she had already exceeded what she believed she was capable of. John gently laid the baby back into the crate. His son stirred for a moment, but didn't wake. He stood up from the bed and moved to intercept Vera's pacing. He grabbed her by her upper arms, and held her still. "How much longer are you going to keep doing this to yourself? How long are you going to keep lying to yourself?"
Vera tried to pry her arms free, but John held her tightly. This was going to end, because they didn't have time for this shit.
"We both know you are far from incapable of feeling, Vera. If anything, you feel more than others." John explained. His voice grew louder as he continued. "If you didn't feel anything, you never would have attacked the soldiers at the convent. You never would have sent Portman's ass flying when you transferred. You never would have gone back to Russia, hell you would have never left Russia. You never would have packed up the barracks, never kept the necklace from Goat."
Vera pulled against his grasp. She slammed her fist against his chest, but John still held her firmly.
"If you didn't care, you wouldn't be standing in the same room as your son!" John continued. He moved in for the kill. "Hell, if you didn't care, he wouldn't be here!"
Suddenly, a tiny cry filled the room. Both turned to the small crate, where the baby lay crying. Vera freed herself from John's grip and rushed to the crate. John watched silently, as Vera quickly lifted the baby from the crate and proceeded to rock him in her arms. She whispered in Russia and stroke his tiny cheek. John slowly came up to Vera's side, keeping his eyes trained on Vera's interaction with their son.
"Truth is, you're afraid to admit that you care and feel, Vera." He began. His voice was much softer than before. "It means you have to open yourself up and risk losing people you care about. You're afraid because you don't him to grow up like us."
Vera said nothing as she continued to soothe the baby.
"You're not incapable of feeling, you're just choosing not to feel." John said. "Except you can't do that with him. You can't help but care for him. You can't help but be his mother."
Vera silently sat herself down on the edge of the cot. The babies cries quieted to tiny whimpers. "I hate you."
John chuckled and knelt down in front of her. He reached out and tilt her chin to meet his gaze. "Lzhets."
Vera nodded slowly. "Da."
John rose from the ground and sat down beside Vera.
"I was thinking we should call him 'Eric'." Vera said. "He'll grow up hearing what we did. He might even think he has to live up to his name, if we call him 'John'. But if we call him Eric-"
"He grows up learning about a man who you considered your father." John finished.
Vera hummed and nodded her head.
John motioned to take the baby. Vera eased him into John's arms. John looked down at his son. "You're gonna hear a lot about our world, Eric. You're gonna hear about how it was before the demons came. You're gonna hear about what the demons did to our home. You gonna hear a lot about your mom and dad. The things we did to stop them." He looked over toward Vera. Her violet eyes held his. "There are gonna be days when we're not for you. Days when we're fighting those demons. There are gonna to be days when you're mad at us, when you hate us, when you're afraid we won't come back." Vera reached out and grabbed his arm. John turned his gaze back down to his son. "Truth is, Eric, we're just as afraid as you. Those days we leave, we'll be afraid we won't see you again. We won't hold you, kiss you, tell you we love you. But we'll go, just for the hope that you never have to fight our battles, so we can take you home."
Eric gave a large yarn, squinting his eyes tightly. John couldn't help but smile down at his son. He didn't understand, but one day, maybe he would. He would understand what his parents did for them all. He'd know why his parents had nightmares. Why they would fight a lot. Why his mother would distance herself from time to time. Maybe there would be a day when he'd walk on Earth without the fear of infection. Maybe there would be a day when John could take them both to the cabin. Eric opened his eyes and looked up at John. John felt the air rush out of him as he stared down into hazel slits within violet eyes. Eric closed his eyes and wiggled himself into John's arms. Maybe there would be a day.

END

TADA! oh goodness it's over. it's over...what I'm I gonna do now?! oh wait, I have like 5 other fics I've been neglecting...oops.

YOU GUYS ROCK! YOU'VE BEEN GRAT WAITING FOR UPDATES! WHAT AM I GONNA DO WITHOUT YOU ALL

Hope you weren't disappointed with the ending. Gotta give them closure after all the crap I put them through.