Generations: James and Helen
Title : The Incubator: Generations - James and Helen
Rating: NC17
Characters: James, Helen
Summary: A prequel telling the story of James and Helen, Steve's parents, two slaves granted the honor of being part of the slave 'feeder' programme before they are sent to the colonies. Over time they learn to beocme intimate with each other and for four years, bring up a young boy named Steve.
A/N - Although this is set in the Incubator verse which involves Danny/Steve and other H50 characters, this fic is more original work than fandom based.
~
They sized each other up, standing on opposite sides of the small room. He was tall, broad in the shoulders, not as fleshed out as he could be. Dark hair, dark eyes, slightly tanned skin, handsome features of his face set into a grim expression. He came from a well known Household, a respected family name within society. She was a head shorter, a thin, unshapely body, long dark hair and blue eyes. Her face was like the rest of her frame, small and compact but pretty in it's own way. Her former Household wasn't nearly as sophisticated, but connected enough to have gotten her into a 'feeder' programme. Only a select few slaves were granted such oppurtunities rather than a direct route to the colonies.
Both of them wondered if it were luck they'd been chosen as feeders. They'd been taken from their households, put through extensive medical examinations and given brief but indepth information about their purpose as feeders. They had six months to conceive a child, if they were unsuccessful, it was a fast track to the colonies.
"I'm James," he said, sensing her nervousness.
"Helen," she replied, feeling a slight relief now they knew each others names.
There was a strangeness of the apartment, it would just be the two of them living there, though they could socialise a little with their fellow 'coupled' slaves within the complex. But just the two of them would live within the space of their small rooms. A bedroom ( one double bed), an en suite bathroom (shower unit, toilet, sink), an adjoining small room kitted out as a nursery and an open main room with kitchenette set in the corner. It was homey, meant to be comfortable and welcoming. They'd even been allowed to bring a few items from their households, if their former Owners had given them gifts. She'd brought a blanket, given to her by her Owners when they'd been successful in getting her into the feeder programme. He'd brought nothing, he'd never owned anything and his Owners hadn't gifted him. They'd wished him well and sent him on his way after five years of dutiful servitude.
This would be their home now and if they did conceive a child, it would be home for four years. Neither of them remembered the apartments they were born into, or the slaves who'd brought them up for the first few years of their lives.
The first night they simply lay next to one another, neither of them really sure who should attempt to make the first move. Eventually they simply fell asleep, barely touching. Helen woke up first, finding herself curled up and comforted by the closeness of his body, feeding off his warmth. The next few nights were the same, only they lay closer each time and on the fourth night, when a chill had set in, he even wrapped an arm around her and held her close, like her body comforted him also.
They both knew they should begin trying, to put it off would inevitably lead to being in the colonies within six months. Neither of them were strangers to sex, they'd both had Owners who'd taken them to their beds over the years. But sex with another slave was a concept hard to grasp, usually an act forbidden within society. Only the feeder programme allowed it, in order to maintain the slave populations. To go from a life where sex with another slave could lead to a stint in the pound, to being paired up with a slave in order to conceive a child. It was hard to adjust.
As the days passed they slowly got to know each other, spoke a little about the Households they'd just come from. They both had pasts of multiple Ownerships, neither had been with a particular family longer than five years. Both had been trained and owned as regular house slaves.
The first time they had sex, Helen lay impassively as James took her, careful and tender but barely looking her in the eye as he rutted gently against her. Neither of them made a sound, save for his soft grunts as he came, emptying his seed into her. It was a few nights before they tried again, the activity same as the first time. When he was finished James would roll onto his side, his back to her, long broad frame tense and closed off, as if ashamed of what he'd done.
It was in danger of becoming a depressing routine as the weeks passed with no result of conception as the doctor began the first tests. But they were becoming familiar with each other now and though the sex was still awkward, there were moments where they connected more than just physically. Helen began to touch him back, barely at first, small brushes of her fingertips against his arms as they settled beside her on the mattress. They made eye contact, he even smiled, especially when she turned from tentative touching to wrapping her arms around his neck to hold him.
There was something about her, something that drew him down to kiss her. James wasn't sure what it was, other than the way her eyes looked up trustingly at him, the way her mouth was parted with silent breaths as he took her. It was something he felt the need to do and it was a moment of his own free will, nobody was going to stop them or forbid them from doing so. The sex was part of what was expected of them, as slaves part of the feeder programme. But kissing, kissing was an intimacy neither of them had been allowed before and yet here, in the privacy of their small abode, they had the free will to kiss without reproach.
He paused his slow thrusting, settled deep inside her and she looked confused, frowned so her brow furrowed right at the bridge of her nose. He didn't give her a moment to say anything, just leaned down and kissed her, gently, a slight brushing of their lips. He paused, unsure how she'd take to the intimacy, until her arms shifted around his shoulders, a hand gliding gently up into the nape of his neck, fingers sliding against his hairline. He pressed his mouth harder against hers and felt her body press up against his as they kissed.
Her small pert breasts brushed up against his chest as her hips shifted under his. He began moving with her, feeling her lips pulling against his gently before she pulled back and gave a small gasp for air. Her breath cooled against his lips where they were moist and tingling from the sensation of their kiss. Looking down at her he found her smiling, brow no longer furrowed and their bodies seemed to have found a rhythm. It felt better now that she was beginning to respond to him and James allowed himself the indulgence of enjoying the connection they shared, the feel of pushing into her body and being encompassed by her tight heat.
He always felt a little guilty that he felt that pulsing pleasure of orgasm as he came inside her and she felt nothing. He knew sex could be fulfilling for both people involved, yet she'd yet to show any enjoyment of the act. Her reacting back to him, holding him and moving under him caused his orgasm to hit him quicker and harder than it had other times, but instead of rolling away from her this time, he lay down on his side and kept an arm wrapped lightly around her waist.
Eventually she turned to him, curling closer in his arms as she fell asleep and he held her close, enjoying the feel of her hair tickling his chin as her breath ghosted over his chest. Sex became more enjoyable after that and they both began drawing on their past experiences as they became accustomed to one another, the intimacy creating a gentle bond between them. It was the closest to love they were ever going to feel for one another. James began touching her in other ways, fingers dipping between her legs before he even attempted to penetrate her, teasing that sensitive spot just between the folds.
Helen was surprised the first time, unsure how to react until she gazed into his eyes as he quietly asked her to trust him. Her body relaxed into the feel until the sensations he was causing to rise within her body had her hips writhing and breath escaping her lips with quick fire gasps. It was like she couldn't take anymore, yet he withdrew his hand before she felt truly satisfied. His entry was a little rougher this time, but her back arched in response as the feel felt all the more sensitive and she moaned his name softly. As he began to thrust into her with meaningful glides of his hips he leaned up to create space enough to press his thumb against that spot once more.
He stroked gently with each thrust into her and watched as her eyes fluttered closed, body trying to assimilate all the new feelings he was creating within her. Her mouth was parted into a soft 'o' which let out small gasps, moans and the gentle saying of his name. He could feel the reactions within her also, as he took her and teased her, gave a grunting moan himself as he watched her suddenly flooded with pleasure. She body shivered and shook under the wave and he felt the tight fluttering contractions surround his cock, urging on his own orgasm. Pulling his thumb away as her writhing and shuddering became a little more erratic, he picked up the pace, enjoying the feel of her around him and allowing himself the indulgence of that enjoyment. It took little time before the pleasure pulsed around his own body and he emptied himself into her waiting body.
They were both breathless afterwards, he lay on his back, skin sheened a little with sweat and she rolled over with a soft hum, pressing her body like a blanket against his. He held her close finding the longer they were together, the less inclined he was to let her go.
A few weeks later the doctor diagnosed a positive test for pregnancy. Over the next few months they had to attend meetings and classes, given strict guidelines and rules for how the child was to be weaned for the first four years of it's life. Within their apartment they indulged in the mood of being expectant parents, but the reality was they were merely two people about to care for a child until it was old enough to enter a training camp and become a slave.
James had been put into service as an attendant to one of the doctors who lived within the complex. Helen was to attend in the nurseries, so as to learn how to handle the child she was carrying and how to act as carer toward them. Other expectant feeders were there also, as well as feeders who'd given birth to their children and were in the process of weaning.
Nine months later and James woke one night to Helen shaking him gently, telling him it was time. She was calm as he helped her out of bed. There was little point dressing, and he helped her slip on a pair of slippers and her robe, the labour ward was within the complex. Carefully and steadily he led her through the corridors and floors until they reached the medical facility where a nurse ticked off their details and put them in a room to wait. They held hands until the mid wife arrived, ushering James out of the room.
He sat outside waiting until a nurse tired of him loitering and sent him back to his apartment. He had no purpose or reason to be hanging about the halls, he'd meet the child soon enough when Helen had given birth. He didn't sleep, just sat in his chair and waited, either to be summoned or for Helen to walk through the door, child in her arms. He jolted awake a few hours later, having fallen asleep in the chair, body aching from the awkward angle, wrapped in Helen's blanket.
With no Helen returned from the ward, he reluctantly left the apartment to attend to his duties. It was a long day and his attention drifted occasionally, earning him several reproaches from his Master until eventually he could escape home again. Entering the apartment he looked about hopefully but still no Helen. He fell exhaustedly to bed and was restless without her beside him and still no word about the labour. The longer he went without information, the more concerned he was becoming for her and the child.
After attending his Doctor a second day, he returned back to the apartment once more only this time, Helen was waiting. Settled in her chair looking tired but happy as she waited for him. He went to her quickly before she could stand, falling to his knees instead beside her and pulling her gently to him for a kiss.
"Are you all right?" he asked her gently.
"Yes," she replied honestly.
"The baby?" he said tenatively.
"Sleeping next door," she said, pulling back a little and brushing her hand accross his cheek. "Do you want to meet him?"
"Him?" James replied, a smile on his lips as he stood, taking her hand to gently pull her up.
"Yes," Helen nodded, letting him pull her accross the room to the nursery.
As James pushed the door open, he felt a strange knot in his stomach, nervous of what he'd find there. In the cot lay a small bundle, gently sleeping, small mouth pouting, the tiniest of noses, eyes tight shut in slumber. He was beautiful and James wanted to reach out and hold him, fold him into his arms and keep him safe. Something cold chilled his spine as the realisation hit him that he'd not be able to protect this small child in life. That too soon he'd come to learn his true purpose. Helen's hand squeezed his and he gave a small smile. For the moment, for this one fleeting moment he'd allow himself the dream of thinking he could be a protector of this baby, of the woman beside him. His wife and son, a family with a future.
"What's his name?" he asked her, voice barely a whisper lest he break the spell.
"Steven," Helen replied, moving close so her body leaned against his, head resting against his chest as he put an arm around her. "They named him Steven."
~
It was difficult not to allow a bond to form. Time moved fast and he didn't remain a tiny bundle long, soon enough he was rolling, crawling, taking his first tentative steps and saying his first words. Helen spent the days with him in the nurseries and James snatched what little time he could in mornings or evenings to spend time with his son. He was careful to keep the boy at arms length, knowing it would hurt all the more when the day came to say goodbye. To Steven they were Helen and James, never were any of the children of the complex to hear or understand the concept or idea of a mother and father. Helen found it all the more harder not to allow the bond to develop, a bond already there considering she'd carried him for nine months within her.
On the evenings they'd sit in the living room, Steven curled up in her arms as she read to him from story books. Often she'd end up singing lullabies, a gentle hum on the air that washed over her son and James. James would sit melancholy as he looked at them, losing himself in the fantasy that this would be how life would always be for them.
They were still able to indulge in having sex. The doctor had prescribed pills to Helen which prevented her falling pregant again and it wasn't frowned upon for them to continue having such a physical relationship while they lived together. At night, when Steven had been put to bed, they found some comfort and solace in each others arms.
The day came for Steven to leave them. Four years had passed like the flicking of a switch. James woke early and wrapped an arm tighter around Helen's small body as she lay asleep, curled against him. He wanted to halt time and just hold this moment, their child at peace in the room beyond and this woman so kind and caring held in his arms for eternity. As she stirred he loosened his hold, pulled away, the moment broken. He had to face the reality that their time together had come to and end. He got up and dressed, made breakfast as he waited for her to wake up and begin the day.
When Helen appeared it was with a grim expression. He knew it would be harder for her. She'd spent everyday with their son, albeit surrounded by others in equal situations as they were. But the bond was strong, she hadn't been able to fight the urge to give their son the love of his mother. Steven was all grown now, as grown as James would ever see him. He wandered into the kitchenette rubbing his eyes, looking sleepy, hair all unkempt and pyjamas wrinkled.
"Early breakfast today," James informed him, setting down a small plate of bacon and eggs before him. He tried not to think of it as their final meal together though it was.
Helen pushed her food around her plate but ate very little and James found he couldn't stomach his own. Steven swallowed his down with eagerness, usually they didn't have such extravagant meals, especially not breakfast which was usually cereal.
"You should get him dressed," James pointed out to Helen as he caught her eye. He tried to ignore the tears that appeared in her eyes even as she swallowed down and nodded her head slowly. He looked away, ignoring Steven also. "They'll be here soon."
"Who'll be here?" Steven asked innocently enough as Helen took his hand and pulled him towards the bathroom.
"You're going to go away for a little while remember?" Helen explained in a soft tone. "You need to look your very best before you go."
James closed his eyes and tried to breathe, though all his breath seemed to want to leave his body at the same time. He gathered up the dishes and slowly cleaned them and put the kitchen back to rights. He sat down in his chair and felt old, older than he'd ever felt before. At forty three he was old for a slave still in service, though that service was limited to a medical facility and attending a doctor.
The door knocked and he stood quickly, opening it to find a woman, dressed in a trainer uniform holding a tablet which she was scrolling through.
"Child five eight six alpha - Steven?" she parroted from the tablet before looking at James.
"Yes Miss," he nodded, turning to find Helen standing holding Steven's hand. He was dressed in a simple light blue trousers and smock outfit, sturdy black boots and navy blue coat. In his arms he held the blanket Helen had brought with her from her former Owners.
"Well, come along, we haven't all day," the trainer barked out accross the room.
Helen led Steven to the door and he looked up at James with fearful eyes. James crouched down by him, straightening out the collar of his little coat.
"I don't want to go," Steven said quietly, little hand latching into James's. "Can't I stay."
"It's only for a little while," James said, a lie but one they'd been told to tell. It was meant to make the transition easier. He gave Steve's cheek a pinch with his free hand. "Chin up hmm...it's an adventure. You like adventures remember? See you soon okay?"
He gave Steven a wide smile, pulled him in for a quick hug as Helen crouched down also. She was finding it all the more harder to hold herself together.
"You be good," She said, pulling Steven to her and pressing a kiss into his cheek. "Do everything your told and mind to say please and thank you."
"I will, promise Helen," Steven assured her as she pulled away. Standing she turned away to hide her tears and James pushed Steven gently towards the door.
The trainer was looking impatient, as if she'd been privy to far too many similar scenes in her years working in the feeder complexes. She put a hand on Steven's shoulder and guided him into the hall, halting him and pointing to the blanket in his hand.
"What's that?" she said, pulling it from his grasp and handing it back to James without a flicker of emotion on her face. "No personal items. Come along, we've others to collect."
Steven looked ready to burst into tears and bit down on his lower lip as James looked down at him. James gave him a brave smile, tapped on his own chin and gave a tilt watching as his son swallowed down on his tears and sucked in a breath. He jutted his chin out and tried to be brave. As he was led away James closed the door, too full of guilt to watch his son be led off to start his life as a slave. Turning, he twisted the blanket in his hands and grapsed at Helen as she fell into his arms, face pressed into his chest. Her body shuddered against his with silent sobs and they held one another as they gave in to the grief.
By the end of the day they'd boarded seperate coaches of their own to be taken to the colonies. Never to see each other or their son again.
Rating: NC17
Characters: James, Helen
Summary: A prequel telling the story of James and Helen, Steve's parents, two slaves granted the honor of being part of the slave 'feeder' programme before they are sent to the colonies. Over time they learn to beocme intimate with each other and for four years, bring up a young boy named Steve.
A/N - Although this is set in the Incubator verse which involves Danny/Steve and other H50 characters, this fic is more original work than fandom based.
~
They sized each other up, standing on opposite sides of the small room. He was tall, broad in the shoulders, not as fleshed out as he could be. Dark hair, dark eyes, slightly tanned skin, handsome features of his face set into a grim expression. He came from a well known Household, a respected family name within society. She was a head shorter, a thin, unshapely body, long dark hair and blue eyes. Her face was like the rest of her frame, small and compact but pretty in it's own way. Her former Household wasn't nearly as sophisticated, but connected enough to have gotten her into a 'feeder' programme. Only a select few slaves were granted such oppurtunities rather than a direct route to the colonies.
Both of them wondered if it were luck they'd been chosen as feeders. They'd been taken from their households, put through extensive medical examinations and given brief but indepth information about their purpose as feeders. They had six months to conceive a child, if they were unsuccessful, it was a fast track to the colonies.
"I'm James," he said, sensing her nervousness.
"Helen," she replied, feeling a slight relief now they knew each others names.
There was a strangeness of the apartment, it would just be the two of them living there, though they could socialise a little with their fellow 'coupled' slaves within the complex. But just the two of them would live within the space of their small rooms. A bedroom ( one double bed), an en suite bathroom (shower unit, toilet, sink), an adjoining small room kitted out as a nursery and an open main room with kitchenette set in the corner. It was homey, meant to be comfortable and welcoming. They'd even been allowed to bring a few items from their households, if their former Owners had given them gifts. She'd brought a blanket, given to her by her Owners when they'd been successful in getting her into the feeder programme. He'd brought nothing, he'd never owned anything and his Owners hadn't gifted him. They'd wished him well and sent him on his way after five years of dutiful servitude.
This would be their home now and if they did conceive a child, it would be home for four years. Neither of them remembered the apartments they were born into, or the slaves who'd brought them up for the first few years of their lives.
The first night they simply lay next to one another, neither of them really sure who should attempt to make the first move. Eventually they simply fell asleep, barely touching. Helen woke up first, finding herself curled up and comforted by the closeness of his body, feeding off his warmth. The next few nights were the same, only they lay closer each time and on the fourth night, when a chill had set in, he even wrapped an arm around her and held her close, like her body comforted him also.
They both knew they should begin trying, to put it off would inevitably lead to being in the colonies within six months. Neither of them were strangers to sex, they'd both had Owners who'd taken them to their beds over the years. But sex with another slave was a concept hard to grasp, usually an act forbidden within society. Only the feeder programme allowed it, in order to maintain the slave populations. To go from a life where sex with another slave could lead to a stint in the pound, to being paired up with a slave in order to conceive a child. It was hard to adjust.
As the days passed they slowly got to know each other, spoke a little about the Households they'd just come from. They both had pasts of multiple Ownerships, neither had been with a particular family longer than five years. Both had been trained and owned as regular house slaves.
The first time they had sex, Helen lay impassively as James took her, careful and tender but barely looking her in the eye as he rutted gently against her. Neither of them made a sound, save for his soft grunts as he came, emptying his seed into her. It was a few nights before they tried again, the activity same as the first time. When he was finished James would roll onto his side, his back to her, long broad frame tense and closed off, as if ashamed of what he'd done.
It was in danger of becoming a depressing routine as the weeks passed with no result of conception as the doctor began the first tests. But they were becoming familiar with each other now and though the sex was still awkward, there were moments where they connected more than just physically. Helen began to touch him back, barely at first, small brushes of her fingertips against his arms as they settled beside her on the mattress. They made eye contact, he even smiled, especially when she turned from tentative touching to wrapping her arms around his neck to hold him.
There was something about her, something that drew him down to kiss her. James wasn't sure what it was, other than the way her eyes looked up trustingly at him, the way her mouth was parted with silent breaths as he took her. It was something he felt the need to do and it was a moment of his own free will, nobody was going to stop them or forbid them from doing so. The sex was part of what was expected of them, as slaves part of the feeder programme. But kissing, kissing was an intimacy neither of them had been allowed before and yet here, in the privacy of their small abode, they had the free will to kiss without reproach.
He paused his slow thrusting, settled deep inside her and she looked confused, frowned so her brow furrowed right at the bridge of her nose. He didn't give her a moment to say anything, just leaned down and kissed her, gently, a slight brushing of their lips. He paused, unsure how she'd take to the intimacy, until her arms shifted around his shoulders, a hand gliding gently up into the nape of his neck, fingers sliding against his hairline. He pressed his mouth harder against hers and felt her body press up against his as they kissed.
Her small pert breasts brushed up against his chest as her hips shifted under his. He began moving with her, feeling her lips pulling against his gently before she pulled back and gave a small gasp for air. Her breath cooled against his lips where they were moist and tingling from the sensation of their kiss. Looking down at her he found her smiling, brow no longer furrowed and their bodies seemed to have found a rhythm. It felt better now that she was beginning to respond to him and James allowed himself the indulgence of enjoying the connection they shared, the feel of pushing into her body and being encompassed by her tight heat.
He always felt a little guilty that he felt that pulsing pleasure of orgasm as he came inside her and she felt nothing. He knew sex could be fulfilling for both people involved, yet she'd yet to show any enjoyment of the act. Her reacting back to him, holding him and moving under him caused his orgasm to hit him quicker and harder than it had other times, but instead of rolling away from her this time, he lay down on his side and kept an arm wrapped lightly around her waist.
Eventually she turned to him, curling closer in his arms as she fell asleep and he held her close, enjoying the feel of her hair tickling his chin as her breath ghosted over his chest. Sex became more enjoyable after that and they both began drawing on their past experiences as they became accustomed to one another, the intimacy creating a gentle bond between them. It was the closest to love they were ever going to feel for one another. James began touching her in other ways, fingers dipping between her legs before he even attempted to penetrate her, teasing that sensitive spot just between the folds.
Helen was surprised the first time, unsure how to react until she gazed into his eyes as he quietly asked her to trust him. Her body relaxed into the feel until the sensations he was causing to rise within her body had her hips writhing and breath escaping her lips with quick fire gasps. It was like she couldn't take anymore, yet he withdrew his hand before she felt truly satisfied. His entry was a little rougher this time, but her back arched in response as the feel felt all the more sensitive and she moaned his name softly. As he began to thrust into her with meaningful glides of his hips he leaned up to create space enough to press his thumb against that spot once more.
He stroked gently with each thrust into her and watched as her eyes fluttered closed, body trying to assimilate all the new feelings he was creating within her. Her mouth was parted into a soft 'o' which let out small gasps, moans and the gentle saying of his name. He could feel the reactions within her also, as he took her and teased her, gave a grunting moan himself as he watched her suddenly flooded with pleasure. She body shivered and shook under the wave and he felt the tight fluttering contractions surround his cock, urging on his own orgasm. Pulling his thumb away as her writhing and shuddering became a little more erratic, he picked up the pace, enjoying the feel of her around him and allowing himself the indulgence of that enjoyment. It took little time before the pleasure pulsed around his own body and he emptied himself into her waiting body.
They were both breathless afterwards, he lay on his back, skin sheened a little with sweat and she rolled over with a soft hum, pressing her body like a blanket against his. He held her close finding the longer they were together, the less inclined he was to let her go.
A few weeks later the doctor diagnosed a positive test for pregnancy. Over the next few months they had to attend meetings and classes, given strict guidelines and rules for how the child was to be weaned for the first four years of it's life. Within their apartment they indulged in the mood of being expectant parents, but the reality was they were merely two people about to care for a child until it was old enough to enter a training camp and become a slave.
James had been put into service as an attendant to one of the doctors who lived within the complex. Helen was to attend in the nurseries, so as to learn how to handle the child she was carrying and how to act as carer toward them. Other expectant feeders were there also, as well as feeders who'd given birth to their children and were in the process of weaning.
Nine months later and James woke one night to Helen shaking him gently, telling him it was time. She was calm as he helped her out of bed. There was little point dressing, and he helped her slip on a pair of slippers and her robe, the labour ward was within the complex. Carefully and steadily he led her through the corridors and floors until they reached the medical facility where a nurse ticked off their details and put them in a room to wait. They held hands until the mid wife arrived, ushering James out of the room.
He sat outside waiting until a nurse tired of him loitering and sent him back to his apartment. He had no purpose or reason to be hanging about the halls, he'd meet the child soon enough when Helen had given birth. He didn't sleep, just sat in his chair and waited, either to be summoned or for Helen to walk through the door, child in her arms. He jolted awake a few hours later, having fallen asleep in the chair, body aching from the awkward angle, wrapped in Helen's blanket.
With no Helen returned from the ward, he reluctantly left the apartment to attend to his duties. It was a long day and his attention drifted occasionally, earning him several reproaches from his Master until eventually he could escape home again. Entering the apartment he looked about hopefully but still no Helen. He fell exhaustedly to bed and was restless without her beside him and still no word about the labour. The longer he went without information, the more concerned he was becoming for her and the child.
After attending his Doctor a second day, he returned back to the apartment once more only this time, Helen was waiting. Settled in her chair looking tired but happy as she waited for him. He went to her quickly before she could stand, falling to his knees instead beside her and pulling her gently to him for a kiss.
"Are you all right?" he asked her gently.
"Yes," she replied honestly.
"The baby?" he said tenatively.
"Sleeping next door," she said, pulling back a little and brushing her hand accross his cheek. "Do you want to meet him?"
"Him?" James replied, a smile on his lips as he stood, taking her hand to gently pull her up.
"Yes," Helen nodded, letting him pull her accross the room to the nursery.
As James pushed the door open, he felt a strange knot in his stomach, nervous of what he'd find there. In the cot lay a small bundle, gently sleeping, small mouth pouting, the tiniest of noses, eyes tight shut in slumber. He was beautiful and James wanted to reach out and hold him, fold him into his arms and keep him safe. Something cold chilled his spine as the realisation hit him that he'd not be able to protect this small child in life. That too soon he'd come to learn his true purpose. Helen's hand squeezed his and he gave a small smile. For the moment, for this one fleeting moment he'd allow himself the dream of thinking he could be a protector of this baby, of the woman beside him. His wife and son, a family with a future.
"What's his name?" he asked her, voice barely a whisper lest he break the spell.
"Steven," Helen replied, moving close so her body leaned against his, head resting against his chest as he put an arm around her. "They named him Steven."
~
It was difficult not to allow a bond to form. Time moved fast and he didn't remain a tiny bundle long, soon enough he was rolling, crawling, taking his first tentative steps and saying his first words. Helen spent the days with him in the nurseries and James snatched what little time he could in mornings or evenings to spend time with his son. He was careful to keep the boy at arms length, knowing it would hurt all the more when the day came to say goodbye. To Steven they were Helen and James, never were any of the children of the complex to hear or understand the concept or idea of a mother and father. Helen found it all the more harder not to allow the bond to develop, a bond already there considering she'd carried him for nine months within her.
On the evenings they'd sit in the living room, Steven curled up in her arms as she read to him from story books. Often she'd end up singing lullabies, a gentle hum on the air that washed over her son and James. James would sit melancholy as he looked at them, losing himself in the fantasy that this would be how life would always be for them.
They were still able to indulge in having sex. The doctor had prescribed pills to Helen which prevented her falling pregant again and it wasn't frowned upon for them to continue having such a physical relationship while they lived together. At night, when Steven had been put to bed, they found some comfort and solace in each others arms.
The day came for Steven to leave them. Four years had passed like the flicking of a switch. James woke early and wrapped an arm tighter around Helen's small body as she lay asleep, curled against him. He wanted to halt time and just hold this moment, their child at peace in the room beyond and this woman so kind and caring held in his arms for eternity. As she stirred he loosened his hold, pulled away, the moment broken. He had to face the reality that their time together had come to and end. He got up and dressed, made breakfast as he waited for her to wake up and begin the day.
When Helen appeared it was with a grim expression. He knew it would be harder for her. She'd spent everyday with their son, albeit surrounded by others in equal situations as they were. But the bond was strong, she hadn't been able to fight the urge to give their son the love of his mother. Steven was all grown now, as grown as James would ever see him. He wandered into the kitchenette rubbing his eyes, looking sleepy, hair all unkempt and pyjamas wrinkled.
"Early breakfast today," James informed him, setting down a small plate of bacon and eggs before him. He tried not to think of it as their final meal together though it was.
Helen pushed her food around her plate but ate very little and James found he couldn't stomach his own. Steven swallowed his down with eagerness, usually they didn't have such extravagant meals, especially not breakfast which was usually cereal.
"You should get him dressed," James pointed out to Helen as he caught her eye. He tried to ignore the tears that appeared in her eyes even as she swallowed down and nodded her head slowly. He looked away, ignoring Steven also. "They'll be here soon."
"Who'll be here?" Steven asked innocently enough as Helen took his hand and pulled him towards the bathroom.
"You're going to go away for a little while remember?" Helen explained in a soft tone. "You need to look your very best before you go."
James closed his eyes and tried to breathe, though all his breath seemed to want to leave his body at the same time. He gathered up the dishes and slowly cleaned them and put the kitchen back to rights. He sat down in his chair and felt old, older than he'd ever felt before. At forty three he was old for a slave still in service, though that service was limited to a medical facility and attending a doctor.
The door knocked and he stood quickly, opening it to find a woman, dressed in a trainer uniform holding a tablet which she was scrolling through.
"Child five eight six alpha - Steven?" she parroted from the tablet before looking at James.
"Yes Miss," he nodded, turning to find Helen standing holding Steven's hand. He was dressed in a simple light blue trousers and smock outfit, sturdy black boots and navy blue coat. In his arms he held the blanket Helen had brought with her from her former Owners.
"Well, come along, we haven't all day," the trainer barked out accross the room.
Helen led Steven to the door and he looked up at James with fearful eyes. James crouched down by him, straightening out the collar of his little coat.
"I don't want to go," Steven said quietly, little hand latching into James's. "Can't I stay."
"It's only for a little while," James said, a lie but one they'd been told to tell. It was meant to make the transition easier. He gave Steve's cheek a pinch with his free hand. "Chin up hmm...it's an adventure. You like adventures remember? See you soon okay?"
He gave Steven a wide smile, pulled him in for a quick hug as Helen crouched down also. She was finding it all the more harder to hold herself together.
"You be good," She said, pulling Steven to her and pressing a kiss into his cheek. "Do everything your told and mind to say please and thank you."
"I will, promise Helen," Steven assured her as she pulled away. Standing she turned away to hide her tears and James pushed Steven gently towards the door.
The trainer was looking impatient, as if she'd been privy to far too many similar scenes in her years working in the feeder complexes. She put a hand on Steven's shoulder and guided him into the hall, halting him and pointing to the blanket in his hand.
"What's that?" she said, pulling it from his grasp and handing it back to James without a flicker of emotion on her face. "No personal items. Come along, we've others to collect."
Steven looked ready to burst into tears and bit down on his lower lip as James looked down at him. James gave him a brave smile, tapped on his own chin and gave a tilt watching as his son swallowed down on his tears and sucked in a breath. He jutted his chin out and tried to be brave. As he was led away James closed the door, too full of guilt to watch his son be led off to start his life as a slave. Turning, he twisted the blanket in his hands and grapsed at Helen as she fell into his arms, face pressed into his chest. Her body shuddered against his with silent sobs and they held one another as they gave in to the grief.
By the end of the day they'd boarded seperate coaches of their own to be taken to the colonies. Never to see each other or their son again.