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- Show your face, and finish what you started-
The angels had warned Adam and Eve of many painful happenings on primordial Earth. Many things that they warned could harm them, even potentially end their lives if they weren’t careful. They said that their human forms were created to withstand the physical and emotional trials of their new existence, to forge souls worthy of entering paradise once more having completed their purpose. They warned her not to listen to the traitorous voices that tempted her to do forbidden things, even when they pleaded of inane things she didn’t understand. Eve wonders if they were sugarcoating the last part or simply lying out of pity for them. The constant monthly cramps resonating in her lower abdomen and back as thick blood gushed from between her legs, she withstood. The aches seeping into her insect bite-ridden feet and shoulders as she carries buckets of water back to their cave, she withstood. The first time she broke her arm trying to defend herself from a gazelle she had tried to hunt when Adam was on his own, she withstood. All of it - the sudden illnesses leaving them too weak to even step foot outside, the winters shivering and clinging to each other for warmth, the scratches that swelled and caked with infected blood - they withstood. She doubted the soul this was ‘forging’ was going to be very heaven-worthy, however. The first time she realises this is after the birth of her first set of twins, her first children ever.Childbirth had been the most painful experience in Eve’s short life, even moreso than the pregnancy themselves. There was nothing that compared in the slightest - the feeling of something deep within her being torn apart, blood everywhere as she screamed and writhed in endless agony. Nothing soothed her in those long hours, not even as the normally stoic Adam clutched her scalp from somewhere above her, frantically rubbing circles into her skin and desperately sobbed every prayer imaginable to whoever was listening for her and their children to live. The voice is faint, easily forgotten.
Let me go.
Of course, given it was her first birth, there had been some sudden rush of foreign yet powerful joy, fulfillment, love as she had stared in fascination at the beings created from her flesh and soul- enveloped in warmth only she provided, depending solely on her for absolutely everything. Everything had faded - the agony, the regrets, Adam’s joyous cries - only to make room for the new centres of her world. Aclima and Cain. She didn’t care that they bit when they blindly tried to feed, she didn’t care that they kept her up all night crying for seemingly no reason at all, she didn’t even care that they started to irritate Adam to the point he would simply sleep outside for nights on end. She loved every moment with the first and second set of twins - pressing her nose into their small tufts of hair and inhaling their soft scents, curling their tiny fingers around her own as they slept peacefully. It only spirals downhill from there. She doesn’t know when it all starts to gnaw at her with exhaustion and despair. Perhaps it is after the third set of twins, where Adam doesn’t even come to her side, saying she was used to it by now and could handle herself. He opted to take the children out into the fields instead.
Let me go.
She tries to push the disappointment, the fear of abandonment away. She’s a grown woman. The experience still hurt - somehow hurt worse when she was all alone, back pressed into stone, staring up at the ceiling of the cave taking deep breaths to calm herself. But she managed. They survived. Adam came home with his expectations fulfilled, and she shakily cleaned up the blood from the floor while he cooed at the new babies, still in a daze. Perhaps it is when Adam offers her the largest portion of meat, that he usually reserves for himself, later that evening as Cain and Abel start to fight over their share. “You seem tired. You should eat.” He insisted, worried eyes burning into her as she sluggishly ate with nothing but guilt brewing in her gut. Perhaps it is when, after the fifth set of twins, she finds Adam quietly tracing the shape of the new baby’s brow and asking what was wrong with it. Upon her look, he backtracks, jokingly laughing saying it was just a silly thought, she took things so seriously! Or perhaps it is now, she realises, running on about 3 hours of sleep and standing over a cauldron with stew for ten people, jostling a screeching baby in one hand and a sick toddler in the other. She wonders when love and wonder faded from her gaze. When the babies in her arms just became faceless, labelled bodies that she numbered to feed, talk to, clean up after, teach and tuck in. She feels guilt over realising she spends most of her time with Aclima and Cain, her firstborns, and even in that time, she hadn’t taken them out to wander like they used to in previous birthdays. Faintly, Eve wonders if Adam feels the same way. He seemed to mix up their names often, much to the boys’ chagrin and the girls’ laughter. Adam doesn’t see the need in birthdays or commemorating events. He hates math and counting days, leaving much of the writing and administration to her. The only reason Eve is able to chart at all is by trying to measure the passage of time with the rise and fall of the sun and moon, and the few days Sera visits with important messages from Heaven or simply just to “talk.” Mind, the “talks” were mostly to Adam with commandments and reminders about what he needed to do. Eve sat in some of them, wanting to converse more with the angel, but with how much work was split between her and Adam, it became more difficult to even leave the cave.
Let me go.
Eve doesn’t realise when she starts to hate Adam. Because she does. Sometimes, she hates Adam. Really, really hates him. She hates that he’s favoured while she is ignored. Hates that his future and work is made out to be so much more important and divine. Everything she had admired about him is a false prelude to the sour, bitter truth against its back - his initiative is his boastful pride, his humour is cruelty, his giving is pity, his absence is louder than any of his immature rants. Even his very touch becomes stomach-churning after a time. She feels guilty for even thinking about it.Eve misses the times when everything was new and exciting. She misses running carefree across Eden and even the new Earth, weaving through trees as intense winds whipped her hair about. She misses planning intricate traps and setting them up with Adam, the two of them at first finding it disturbing to hunt the very animals that used to be their friends before eventually snickering about its irony or fond memories. She mourns adventure. The hunts she and Adam would go on together, before the children - heck, even shortly after Aclima and Cain were born. She misses the sweet scent of newly bloomed flowers and the soft rushing sound of the mellow stream she stepped in, she misses holding her arrow poised to her bow as her eyes fixed her target with intent purpose. She misses the fulfilment of accomplishing something dangerous yet meaningful, searching and stepping into the unknown with nothing but raw hunger and anticipation guiding her way. Eve misses the entranced coos and cheers of her children as she showed them how to fish for the first time, misses the Adam that had proudly bounced the dumbfounded twins in his arms, laughing proudly as he pointed and declared - “that’s your Mama!”
Let me go.
She misses the Adam that would help her set up a pretend stage with instruments and toys for the children to dramatically act out stories - tall tales, mixing the blood of their past memories with light-hearted imagination. She even misses when Cain had playfully smacked the man upside the head with his makeshift sword, somehow articulately yelling “die motherfucker” and earning a shocked gasp from his parents before Adam had gotten an earful about what he said in front of the kids. When she and Adam had competed over whether the children would say “Mama” or “Papa” first. She misses the times when there was much of the world to love. There’s little to love anymore. It’s not technically true, Eve knows. She had much to be thankful for and to love - still has Adam and her children, her health, all this food she needs to prepare and plans for the next hunt. She’s probably going to keep having children, growing their family and blessings, pushing them forward to the future the angels and the Heavens had planned for them. There’s just little to love anymore. Interest and love fades slowly yet surely, yellows like the grass and withers like the leaves from the trees they used to climb. Adam’s and Eve’s skins begin to harden and wrinkle in areas, hair becoming thinner and brittle, expressions tightening and patience waning. Every new memory or love only lasts the moment of its novelty, before fading inevitably with the others.The children complaining and fighting no longer seems cute when it escalates to screams and cries. The babies wailing in hunger and sorrow no longer seem fulfilling. The exhausted angry husband dragging in tonight’s meal no longer sounds charming when he yells at her to shut them up. And everything she does starts to feel wrong. Adam is sure to let her know, as always, but even without his constant criticism Eve sees herself beginning to fall apart. Her plans aren’t solid enough - the trap they had laid out failed and their only source of meat this week ran away just in time. It’s the wrong season, the wrong prey they’re targeting, they need to map wider, he needs to scout the area, she needs to work with him to find an alternative plan. They ran out of healing salve, and Abel has a mosquito bite on his forehead about the size of his hand. It’s Eve’s fault, she had been so busy she hadn’t found the time to pick and crush the right herbs. Winter is coming and their winter clothing isn’t finished yet because her wrists ached from the day’s work. What are you even doing all day, Eve? At least I’m doing my work and not half-assing it. Cain thinks Adam hates him in favour of Abel, and that’s somehow Eve’s fault, too - how am I supposed to give all of them the same attention? Do you not spend time with them, that they want to cling to me all the time? What kind of mother are you? Tonight’s meal was awful, she seasoned the meat all wrong and they all had to “force it down their throats.” She practically wasted the meat her husband worked so hard to hunt, the only real source of meat they’d have in weeks. Adam and the children will all go to bed in a sour dissatisfied mood, all because of her. The foundation for their new shelter is coming out all wrong - this is why the angels prefer to talk to me, they know I can build better. The most shattering comment comes when a stressed Adam turns his shoulder to practically shove her comforting hand away after she offers to scout a new hunting ground with him - you’ll just make things worse like you always do . Like she always did. Like back in Eden, goes the unspoken accusation. Like with Lilith and Lucifer and the apple. Like with this whole mishap that is our earthly existence. At least he had looked ashamed at that one, cornering her later and insisting he hadn’t meant what she thought it had meant. She had been the one to reassure him as always, smiling kindly and telling him it was alright even as he clutched her hands tightly, mouth opening as though he wanted to say something before shaking his head and kissing her cheek. It was . Even if he had meant it, she’d deserve it. Worst of all, there is no escape. Try as she might to busy herself in her tasks, Eve finds the thoughts and fears lurking, only magnifying themselves as she plans, cooks, gathers. They lurk even as she prepares everyone’s dishes and clothes before moving on to grinding the herbs. They sink their talons deep, oozing with doubt, far after everyone has slept and she is awake, fretting over schedules for Adam’s next hunt and Sera’s next visit in between the list of tasks she still hadn’t finished. She doesn’t mind being busy - she loves being busy, if it means helping her family. But sometimes - just sometimes… . It’s all too much, and Eve is not enough. …
- The record spins, down the alley late at night -
One day, Eve finds herself staring at the lifeless eyes of the new deer Adam had hunted as the children scatter to finish their chores before their grumbling father returned home from his “break.” Only Adam was allowed breaks, it seemed, where he would stomp off to who knows where, stay there doing who knew what for a good 30 minutes, and then come back somewhat calmer, ready to carry on. She could only wish for that luxury, but she didn’t dare voice the request, afraid of being met with yet another comment about how lazy and incompetent she was. Despite how much they did, life still felt meaningless, anchored and stagnant under her husband and children. And yet, there’s no life to be lived without them. If life was simply this servitude, then surely the end was the necessary rebellion, the ultimate freedom?
Let me go.
Eve shakes her head, alarmed at the thought. She averts her eyes from the dead deer. She’s a failure. She should love her husband. Love her children. They all share her flesh and once a spirit, did they not? She had felt immeasurable love before - bright and warm like the dawn, selfless and instinctive. There had been a deeper wisdom folded underneath the cloth of fate weaved for them, and it had been her duty to patiently see to it, to bear the hardship and hope for a brighter future. And here she is, failing her purpose. No, she had no right to complain, did she? She and Adam had eaten the fruit. The deal with the Heavens had been made, the blame acquitted and judgements passed. How would someone as selfish as she make it to heaven if she died like this? Maybe - she wonders, albeit feeling foolish for it - the Heavens wouldn’t think of it like that. She could simply eat less, drink less, be less. It shouldn’t be difficult, given she was less. Always lesser, compared to the likes of Lilith and Adam, who were gifted with the innate connection to nature, direct conversations with the angels, stronger builds. Lesser still to the children she bled to bear, who would all live these wretched earthly lives without knowing the graces of Eden and yet carried a bright future she couldn’t. She was a waste of resources and space, adding one regret on her husband’s and family’s plates after another. No one at home notices when Eve forgoes the first dinner, quietly lying to sleep after ensuring everyone’s meals had been prepared without so much as a taste of her own share. Adam is busy boasting about a new adventure hunting down a stag as his sons and daughters circle him wide-eyed. It’s okay. She never really liked stag anyways. Less for her meant more for her family, more for the ones that mattered. The man leaves early the next morning for hunting, a few of their stronger daughters and sons accompanying him while the younger and weaker ones tend to the fields and gather fruits. No one notices Eve skip breakfast, nibbling on a few leaves in the noon to get by. Two more nights go by before the familiar pangs of hunger return, raw and gnawing away despite how certain she had been that she stopped feeling hunger. She’s angry, the first real emotion she has felt in forever. She just barely keeps herself from digging her fingers in her youngest child while rocking them, who blinks up at her in surprise. Imagine how gluttonous she would look, eating her fill alongside her husband when she hadn’t nearly done as much work, alongside the children she was supposed to feed and care for better! The anger flickers and fades as quickly as a dying flame. She’s not supposed to need . She’s not allowed to want. Not after everything she has done. Not when there’s so much left to be done. Their dear daughter Aclima is the first to say anything on the matter. “Papa, Mama didn’t eat.” The young girl’s wide inquiring eyes sink into her mother’s, a soft sadness blooming in them as she reaches forward and tilts her head against her own intuitively. Eve always remembers being surprised at the girls’ insightfulness, a small trickle of fulfilment at having her child care about her before realising with fear that she had been so easy to read. “Why, Mama?” Her twin Cain runs up on his short legs, wanting to join in on the affection and quickly jumping onto her. Eve winces and says nothing as pain seeps into her legs with the sudden weight, grounding.
Let me go.
She looks up to see Adam’s stare, inquisitive like the girl’s but with deeper concern, as though the realisation is just dawning on him. He examines her like prey to hunt, and she bristles at the idea of her quiet, criminal mourning being discovered. At having another part of her exposed for him to judge, comment, possibly even mock. Eve forced a gentle, reassuring laugh as she explains it’s a ‘silly woman thing’ to ward off their worries. Cain nods with zero understanding and Adam rolls his eyes with exasperation as he returns to work, but Aclima doesn’t look convinced until Eve promises to take her outside when she is done. At least someone noticed her laugh feels like a dying breath. When Adam grew bigger, he did so to provide for his family. When she grew bigger, she did so because she failed her family, hoarding resources she shouldn’t. Her children needed to grow bigger, her husband did too. Eve did not. …
- Be my friend, surround me like a satellite -
Eve finds her escape one day when everyone is out. There’s still hours before her children return from their errands through the fields, and Adam from his hunts. The second set of twins, just old enough to stay away from the sharp objects and too young to hunt, eagerly agree to take care of their younger sibling. Eve nearly cries in relief when she can put the child down from where they had seemed permanently latched onto her aching arms. She takes her bow and arrow so she has an excuse, leaving a ‘note’ to Adam using the wood carvings and painted letters they had come up with to ‘symbolise’ things to each other when the other was away (albeit, it was usually Adam away, but still). He doesn’t need to worry. Ensuring her children are out of sight, the woman untangles her thinned hair from the messy bun she used while cooking, letting it fall down her back. She stretches out her arms and crackles her knuckles from their stiff, fixed position after grinding herbs.
Let me go.
And then Eve runs. She doesn’t think of where she’s going, just chooses the opposite direction of where Adam went. Her legs suddenly burn and her being rings in question at the almost forgotten sensation of being carried so haphazardly like this, wild and free, but she doesn’t care. She runs for the first time since the her first twins were born, as though her life depends on it - as though the very life she’s running from, however temporarily, is going to echo in heavier footfalls behind her and thunder up to catch her, slip its talons into her flesh again to anchor her. She doesn’t realise the sounds coming from her until she sees deer running away from her, birds flying sharply from their perches and splatters of the familiar stream filling in between. When she can run no longer, she splutters and gasps between bouts of open laughter and sobs. Staggering, she falls backwards instantly, allowing herself to be enveloped by soft moist grass as her back sinks into the earth and each breath pools from her in exhaustion. Finally free for the first and possibly last time in a long time, Eve raises her head, eyes facing the vast painted skies, and sharply sucks in a deep breath, revelling in every flicker of cold fresh air driven into her lungs. For the first time since Eden, she smiles so wide her face aches and doesn’t turn her face away as warm rays of sun bathe her in comfort. She doesn’t realise how long she spends just lying there, being. How long she spends without a single thought in her head, a single cry in her ears, a single fear in her heart, a single care in the world. She never realised how easy, how beautiful it felt to not care. Another startled laugh escapes Eve, cut short by another strange sob and then a wheeze. She’s pitiful, she thinks as she shakily wipes at her face and stares up at the meagre shade the tree she was under provided. The feeling is so unfamiliar, she almost expects Adam to show up out of nowhere and insistently cuddle with her. There were very few nights she could remember where he wasn’t constantly touching her, save for the ones where her childrens clung to her and awoke her every few hours with one need or another. Eve sluggishly scooches up to rest her head against a softer patch of sand free of grass, arms landing limp next to her as the soft sound of the water and crickets lull her further into slumber. For the first time in her life, Eve slept alone. And for the first time since Eden, Eve dreams . She dreams of Lilith’s melodious, powerful laugh, her long lashes resting along her pristine face as her wispy hair pools from the crown of her had and flows against her form in the wind. Of her thin fingers weaving through Eve’s own hair, rubbing consolingly into her skin as she lay on her lap and they dreamed of the worlds beyond. The world that Eve never knew would crush and cripple her the way it had. Were they dreams, or memories? Regrets? Hopes? She dreams of the first time she, Lilith and Lucifer had met. Of the time Adam had begrudgingly tagged along to their ‘adventure’ discovering a new beach in Eden and naming all of its wildlife. She dreams of showing her children Eden one day, of Aclima’s and Cain’s hands each holding her own as they tread down the same beach their parents had fallen in love. Would Lilith have children as well? Could they meet one day again, forget about the sordid past etched into eternity? For the first time since Eden, Eve woke up feeling peace.
…
- Tiger on the prowl, East of Eden, coming for you now -
Eve has slept more than she intended to, that much she can tell, for she had left in the afternoon and when she awakened it was well into the morning of the next day. She thinks. The guilt of the realisation shatters her, and she abruptly jolts up, cursing to herself as the familiar anxiety returns. She has just run back, a thousand horrible scenarios of what had happened to her children racing through her mind, when she bursts through the bushes to the filled bustling cave and 11 pairs of eyes land on her. She hears her new name, her title echoing amongst them like a ripple growing in the pond, loud and desperate in what seems like a thousand voices.
“Mama-”
“Mama.”
“Mama!”
Instantly, Adam gets up from where he had been erratically bouncing their youngest, dislodging the other child from his knee while Aclima and Cain run to her faster. Eve nearly falls back with the force that they jointly hug her, faces wide with smiles even while streaked with tears. The twins jolt and hide behind her legs, clutching at her robe as Adam grabs her tightly by the shoulders, hands frantically checking over her face and hands before he crushes her into an embrace. Eve stiffens, withholding a gasp as her arms unsurely hover over him. They haven’t embraced in so long. She can hear his hammering heartbeat through his chest, the stammered way his panicked breaths shutter against her ear. But the embrace ends as abruptly as it began, for his hands are back on her shoulders, an iron-clad grip that now bruises as he all but shakes her. “Where the hell have you been?” Adam demands in a harsh yell of anger and despair, bloodshot eyes wide with the question as though she had set their food ablaze (again). “I’ve been looking everywhere! It’s been two fucking days, everyone has been worried sick, the children were bawling their eyes out thinking you died!” Eve is no stranger to Adam’s anger, especially directed towards her. She is accustomed to his impatience and annoyances, his occasional insults. She remembers them and encases them to her heart as easily as his affections, even far after he has offered meek apologies or assurances. She remembers being so upset and guilty for the smallest things. This was no small thing. She had messed up big time. The woman is all set to apologise just to absently blunt away the blow of his rage, perhaps with some genuine sincerity - it had not been her intention to abandon her family or scare them, after all. But much to her horror, she feels nothing. So she says nothing. Eve stares emptily back at Adam, blinking owlishly without a trace of emotion. Somehow, that makes Adam angrier. He lets go of her shoulders, raising a finger. “You bitch .” He hisses, voice only some notes lower than before, uncaring for the children. “Do you have nothing to say for yourself? For just leaving me to make food for a family of ten and raise these kids by myself?” Faintly, Eve registers the defences crawling up her mind.
It was only two days.
I’m sorry.
I can make more.
I want to die.
The last sentence startles her. She blinks rapidly, realising the sudden sorrow coiling deep in her chest and thrumming with her heart as though determined to sear straight through her back. It is then Adam notices what she’s holding. “Seriously?” He swipes at her bow to stare in disbelief, and it limply dangles in his grasp as he holds it up to her. “This is why you were out? I hunt for us perfectly fine! What were you chasing?”
I wish I knew.
Yet you came back with nothing , goes Adam’s unspoken addition, but Eve can hear it clearly. “I don’t have time for this bullshit, Eve!” He insists, the familiar despair leaking in with endless anger as though she doesn’t know, as though she doesn’t tell herself what he is yelling at her every single day. “We have a family to feed and crops to tend to, animals to hunt and a cave to clean. If you’re going to waste time, at least warn me so that I don’t come home to ten crying hungry kids! How do you expect me to explain that their mother was just having her idiotic womanly mood swings?”
You can tell them you let me go.
When she still doesn’t answer, he seethes and clutches her bow. “From now on, I will be the only one who hunts.” He declares and snaps Eve’s gift, and her hope of her next escape along with it.
Please let me go.
Eve doesn’t have the energy to stop him, only to muster the first words of hatred she ever felt without thinking. “Fuck you.” She has no warning when her head suddenly snaps to the side and needle-like sensations shoot through on her cheek from where the back of his knuckles collide. Metallic bitterness blooms onto her tongue, seeping to the back of her throat. Her vision is spotted with black patches, her ears buzzing, her legs wobbling disorientedly from the impact. Adam never hit Eve before. Faintly, the woman hears Aclima and Cain cry out in shock behind her. She feels dismay, at the realisation that she let them see their mother like this, and that they now know how much of a pathetic failure she truly is. She pities them, for even being born to who they were. A shocked gasp emanates from the man, breaking the staunch silence between them. Without meaning to, Eve glances at him warily from behind the frazzled strands of hair obscuring most of her vision and her own hand unconsciously cradled to her cheek. She doesn’t see much of the infuriated, hate-filled eyes she is expecting. Almost instantly, her elbows are seized and she is grounded. Eve wants to sink to the ground, hope the earth will swallow her whole and eat of her remains the way life already has. But she can’t. Because the same husband who hates her also loves her, and because the same husband she hates she also loves. Adam calls her name, and it swims somewhere in her mind amongst the chaos slowly calming down. She trembles but doesn’t utter a word. She blinks back at him with deadened eyes as he speaks and speaks, but nothing sinks in. Eventually, he has to usher the children away. Aclima and Cain stay to cling to her knees, as though they know how easily she wants to fall. Fall as Lucifer and Lilith did, for the endless abyss would be a more welcome grave than the ones of this earthly life. When the children finally fall asleep with full bellies and content hearts, Eve and her husband lay quietly next to each other before she turns the other way to sullenly stare ahead. She doesn’t move when he shifts to cling onto her back. She had once thought he wanted her as much as he needed her. She was wrong, as always. She was stupid, but what else was new? Everyone would have been better off if she hadn’t returned home at all.
…
- Keep me from the cages, under the control -
Adam wants to apologise. Eve does not want his apology, or his wandering hands. She weakly tells him as much after diverting and delaying the nights she went to bed or pretending that she fell asleep next to the twins on purpose. He acts like she’s going to run away forever like Lilith did, and how can she say she would not? But in the end, Adam gets his way as he always does. Eve never realised how painful making love could be when there was no love left to give. She feels instead she is a piece of the earth they supposedly came from, laying open as others only took and took from it. A flag of rotting flesh no different from the hunted animals brought home, being torn into and devoured by maggots. She could only wish she was as barren as the soil, and as dead as the stag. When the pain subsides, she feels nothing as Adam’s hands brace against her jaw and his cold lips find her own. He whispers of empty apologies and promises. She does nothing but stare listlessly up at the night sky they had once laid under, enchanted by the blanket of darkness bejewelled with a thousand stars. Before she drifts off into another dreamless slumber, Eve comes to two realisations. One, that her daughters would endure the exact same thing with the boys laying across from them. And two, that she is going to be with child again by the end of the month. Was Eve never a child? Was Adam? Did God, the Heavens above, the angels, ever look upon them with the mercy, fear, hope that they looked upon their own children? Did they never pity or feel a shred of disgust at what they put them through? Palm splayed over her lips, she allows the quiet yet scalding tears to trickle down her face. She knows by now it won’t wake anyone up. She looks at Adam, the one person who is supposed to understand, who must have once thought what she did. Did he not? Perhaps he was too good for blasphemy. She wants to cry, but she doesn’t want to exasperate him. She wants to yell, but she doesn’t want to anger him. She wants to smile, but she doesn’t love him.
…
- Running in the dark, to find East of Eden -
Eve is oddly happy today. Peace swims in her mind, sedating every troubling thought that used to keep her on edge. She takes the children out early this morning, cuddling them here and kissing them there as she seamlessly picks through as many fruits, vegetables and berries as possible. She spends most of it preparing a feast, finding creative ways to compliment the stag Adam dragged in - she owes them that much at least. Adam seems pleased that everything is ‘going back to normal’, though she wonders when she had ever felt normal. He holds her from behind, palm fondly pressed into her stomach as he relents to letting her go outside if she went with him, and today she resists the urge to flinch away. Aclima and Cain seem calmer now that they see their parents getting along, and that was all that mattered. Abel’s mosquito bite resolves. Azura lost her first tooth so she gets a special broth today. The younger sets of twins have learned how to pull each other's hair. Adam laughs, saying he's glad they never had older or younger siblings. Eve is no longer surprised upon the thought of starving the child growing inside of her, denying Adam the satisfaction of yet another means to grip onto her, denying the children a new friend. it's time to scout for new hunting ground. She takes one last look at her family, waving playfully with Adam before stepping foot out. It had been so long since she and Adam had gone on an adventure together, although she knows more than he does that this is a mission. Adam’s grip on her wrist is nearly bruising, and he walks in powerful, fast-paced steps as though intentionally trying to stay ahead of Eve. Trying as always, to keep her behind - to show her, perhaps, how much smaller, meeker, slower she was. Steering her this way and that, blocking her view of the path beyond. Eve would be irritated, even combative, if she didn’t feel utterly exhausted. She only smiles and nods to his words, allowing him the last look of the meek submissive wife he believed he was destined to lead and protect. Despite this, it’s not very hard to convince Adam of the stag just escaping their line of sight when they have reached the stream she had slept by just a week ago, to turn his head for just a few minutes desperately searching for it as he finally lets go of her wrist. The only good thing left of their relationship was that Adam still, to some extent, listened to her.
Let me go.
She hands that last shred of trust away.
Let me go.
Some deep yearning, some long forgotten voice within her calls, tempts, beckons her the way it had beckoned her to the gleaming apple at the centre of Eden’s grove.
Let me go.
No sooner has Adam turned around does Eve snatch the precious few seconds to fall headfirst into the stream. She smiles to herself as coolness envelops her, a welcome embrace. She no longer cares if she awakens to Eden or Hell. To Sera or God. To Lilith or Lucifer. Gentle water becomes a heavy torrent, invading her nostrils and mouth, flooding her lungs as she splutters and chokes. She becomes one with it like she did with the earth, forcing her body to remain limp and submissive to its tirade even as pain consumes her being and her vision goes black. The less she resists, the better.
Let me go.
She prays, she pleads to the earth and heavens above. The First Mother dreams of a heavenly angel now fallen and his voice, his soothing expression as the signature fiery spark illuminating his magic conjured small ducks. She dreams of an earthborn woman crowned first queen of Eden and then of Hell, of her endearing smiles and concerned questions deep into the quiet night as she braided her hair and sung to her soothingly. Suspended in the river and some odd realm of darkness, she feels large arms anchoring around her. A wistful sleepiness tugs at her, as though she is half-awake. Perhaps it is heaven's embrace, perhaps it is a demon of hell. She opens her eyes to the blurry sight of golden eyes, and hope rekindles in her chest. “Lilith?”At last, her suffering is over. At last, she is home. “Eve.” The deep voice answers, but it is not Lilith’s. “Eve.” The voice is louder now, rattling unpleasantly deep in her throbbing skull. Adam’s tear-filled golden eyes strike her from above, steal her breath away harsher than the water had. Horror and shock swiftly seize Eve’s core, nauseating and electrifying. Everything comes flooding back - her vision returns to stare up at the now darkening night sky and her husband’s horrified face. The throbbing in her head radiates down her eyes, matching the ache throughout her chest. Her hair is matted to her face, her dress soaked and she breathes heavily, desperately gulping air as her lungs burn. She shivers despite the warmth of his arms, feeling too cold and awful and wrong even as he clutches her even tighter to himself, chin hooked over her shoulder, matching her panicked breaths. She’s not supposed to feel anymore, and yet she feels too much all at once. Eve faintly registers the feeling of floating, arms dangling limply and neck aching. She realises now that Adam is holding her the way she held her children with his hand over her waist and elbows under her knees. He had been holding her unconscious form for however long. But then why was he standing? All too late, Eve recognises the bright white glow stretching from behind them in the darkness of the night, illuminating their features. Stunned, she turns her head to an all-too familiar face. “Eve.” Sera’s serene voice has not changed since the day it had sealed their banishment with finality. It never did stop sounding so disappointed. Her eyes, however, glow with sorrow and sympathy. “We need to talk.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The hour after the drowning is a blur.Nothing about Adam’s frantic hands shaking her by the shoulders fazes Eve. Nothing about the desperate cries and hazy back-and-forth seems to sink in.Only when Adam hesitantly sets her down and she collapses forward into Sera’s arms does feeling rush back to the First Mother again.Awake. Alive. She’s alive. She’s…reborn and not. She’s alive and not. She is a dead woman walking. She is a crumpled heap of bones and clay and stone, quaking and spluttering in the arms of the Seraphim.Sera’s figure is soft when she leans against it, almost like feathers from a dove she had once pet in Eden and yet plump like flesh, enough to sink against so comfortably.Sometime in between, Eve falls unconscious and blinks slowly into awakedness yet again. The few glimpses she sees in between half-asleep moments of pain and distant worry are the faces - Adam’s tear-stained cheeks, Sera’s deeply saddened expression, even bits of the other angels in the background with uncharacteristically morphed looks. Trees surround them, and familiar rushing from the river that almost killed her lingers in the back as well.“By the Creator!” Adam’s exclamation makes her flinch as her nose floods unexpectedly with his smell and her body squishes against his own unwantedly. Grimacing, Eve faintly presses feeble hands against his chest to push herself away, but every bone in her feels so heavy. Giving up, she reaches out a shaking hand towards the light that she thought was Sera, before the older angel’s serene, patient tone seems to embalm her, separating her from the stifling heat of her husband and the stress starting to pick away at the corners of her mind.“Please step away from Eve, Adam. Let her breathe.” Sera’s command is simple, short, and yet it strikes heavy in its resolve as Adam instantly scrambles back, casting her unsure and guilty glances as though just about ready to run back to her in haste. There’s something strangely gratifying, about seeing his usually stoic and confident self terrified and unsure as she felt. About Sera, the highest of Seraphim, speak in the favour of someone like her.“How badly did she slip?” He prods worriedly, and Eve blinks back in confusion. She was right there, surely he could ask her? “Did she hit her head? Will this mean we cannot have children? Sera, please say something!”Sera seems slightly unnerved by Adam’s questions. “It would seem that she did not slip- oh dear!”Nausea erupts up Eve’s throat, and she turns away just in time to throw up what little she had eaten the previous day, gasping for breath in embarrassment as everything burns and her husband’s touch clasps tight at her shoulders. It’s unsure, foreign, like it doesn’t know what to do itself.And then, something more welcome - a warm, gentle heaviness around her shoulders as her husband’s tight grip eases. Feathers? Or soft…fluffy…something, as soothing as Eden used to be.“You must feel so cold.” Sera’s deep voice thrums in a pleasant hum as a wave of warmth washes over her. Suddenly her dress does not stick, and her hair frizzes out as water evaporates from her face.Eve has heard enough. She doesn’t want to argue, doesn’t want to think. Without hesitation, she bows her head to Sera, nearly touching the stunned angel’s feet as her eyes close at the feeling of the soil against her forehead. Her voice trembles under the weight of her single plea, splintered with the breathless sob. She pleads to no one in particular, or perhaps to everyone she has ever met.
“Please, just…let me go.”
How easy would it be, really? The heavens could easily create another woman to be with Adam and carry the rest of the children they were meant to have. A stronger, kinder, smarter woman like Lilith or maybe like neither of them and at the same time like both, perhaps, an inquisitive soul able to make the best out of their situation. Someone selfless, who didn’t complain or so easily buckle like Eve did.Her children were young. They wouldn’t notice the difference, and even if they did, what did it matter?Hands hold her face, gently and firmly - not hard enough to grab and yet not soft enough to let her slip. Sera’s bewildered, hurt eyes scan through her, and she is flooded by an odd yet warm sense of familiarity. It is the same look of concern, loving and dare she say somewhat…protective the first time Eve had came into being, the way she’d look at Lilith and Adam with similar caution when they did something risky.In her stupor, Eve almost misses Sera’s urgent question - “What do you mean by that?”“Let me die.” Eve simply says, with no hesitation as she blinks back tiredly and Sera’s jaw drops. Behind her, Adam gasps, feet hastily shuffling as his bewildered expression comes into view. He kneels where she does, this time almost between where she sits with Sera.“You don’t mean that.” Adam begins, and Eve’s slow breath cuts him short. She tiredly addresses Sera again.“I mean it. All I do is make things worse. I wasn't even meant to exist. Lilith was supposed to be First Mother, and Lucifer was meant to still be in the ranks, and Adam…would have enjoyed Eden for longer.” She forces out the forbidden thought - they were not meant to think back to that fateful day, yet she can't help it, even as Sera’s and Adam's faces change with her speech. “Lilith is First Woman, Adam is First Man, and I am the first mistake.” Her voice starts to tarry unsteadily as stifled sobs splinter through, sharp and irritating as Eve’s eyes narrow and quiet tears spill down her cheeks. "M-Maybe the reason I’m sad and hurt all the time is b-because I’m d-defective. Adam brings food, Lilith brought wonder, and I? I only bring hunger and pain.”She doesn’t recall the last time she cried in front of Adam, not since the first birth. In any other circumstance, she’d feel mortified, ashamed.She feels nothing. Maybe because she is nothing.“Eve-” The way Adam utters her name is so foreign, so rare and yet…not unfamiliar. It is shocked, breathless and strained with disbelief as he steps forward again.Absently, she thinks about running altogether. But if she ran away…she knew she would wake up in a panic and come running back. Perhaps he’d strike her again."I do not think ending your life will address the...nature of the thoughts you are having, especially because most of them are factually untrue." Sera looks upset, but she remains still and observing her quietly - as though afraid she’d run off if she stepped forward. Perhaps she knew? Perhaps, with the warm and urgent way her eyes regarded her, she was right? “Something else is wrong here. Too much has happened in the past years. Why-why don’t we start there, Eve?” Sera’s clutch on her cheeks seems to tighten, not enough to be painful but enough for the woman to blink in caution. "Let’s just…talk about what’s going through your head right now. You don’t have to worry about what we think or how we’ll react. I just - I really want to know how you are truly feeling.”“If I t-talk…” Eve’s voice trembles more than she’d like to admit, and her hands quake as she hastily wipes at the thin clumps of messy hair over her face. “Will - will you fulfil my prayer?”Sorrow and immeasurable grief dawns in Sera’s eyes. “No, I will not end your life. And neither will you. But I will see what the angels and I can do. If you would please just-” Her lips twitch, and simultaneous doubt and worry paints her face as she continues to stare into Eve’s deadened eyes. “Talk to me? How you used to?”How you used to. That’s right. She…had stories. She and Adam and Lilith would have stories…and places to explore in the day…and they’d have their time with the Seraphim to learn about their bodies and about the strange things on the then-developing Earth but-Sera’s hand tilts her chin up. “Eve of Earth.” Huh. She used to be called Eve of Eden, before that went to literal hell. Adam perks up at the ancient name, and she falters. "You and Adam have been given this life, free will, time as a blessing. It is your choice how you spend it-”“…Well, when you put it like that, it sorta isn’t-” Adam winces, but Sera continues unfazed. “And I am here to help you both. Support you both.” She gestures to the both of them, but Adam and Eve avoid looking at eachother. “This life was meant to be many things, but not an eternal punishment. So it would be very helpful to know how I can help.”
Not meant to be a punishment?
Then what the hell were the past several years?
It comes out too quick, in a flood of emotion she can't discern.“I can’t…take another day. I can’t take another coupling or another child.” Eve breathes between hoarse sobs, feeling every bit as ugly as the voices coursing in her head insisted. She was ensnared on all sides by the darkness she thought she could keep at bay, growing smaller as it trapped her in.The admission is a weight off her chest and yet a sword through it all the same. She can’t bear to see Adam’s and Sera’s no doubt disappointed, questioning stares.Instead, at the utter silence, she looks up to see Adam’s stunned eyes and Sera’s sympathetic gaze. The man tilts his head as though having not understood.“But…you had the last few just fine.” Adam slowly begins, and Eve’s heart sinks. "Didn’t you? Yeah, his brow is weird, but that’s okay-"“No.” Eve snaps, hope shrivelling. Why doesn’t he understand? Why does the one person the Heavens created to be her soulmate just never understand? “I don’t…want more.”The misunderstanding doesn’t fade from his eyes, bloomed with hurt. “You don’t like our children?” Adam questions, distressed. "But they love you!"“No!” Eve cuts off louder, the unfamiliar and shameful rage threatening to seize her again. “I-I love them. More than anything.” She says firmly, having no doubt of anything in that regard. “I just don’t want…to go through the pain again so soon-”“You still feel pain?” Adam splutters in shock, the sudden realisation slowly dawning in his eyes as Eve refrains from screaming in frustration. “I thought it stopped after the first few?”“…Why the fuck would you think that?” Eve asks, voice shrill as she forgets all manners before the Head Seraph. The idea that her husband thought she was somehow going through these trials without pain sinks into her head - the thought that he had simply seen her deadened eyes and pale skin and bleeding flesh, and thought she wasn’t in pain-“I-I don’t know, I thought it was like punching a tree!” At Eve’s bewildered expression, Adam explains, as though forgetting the urgency of the moment as Sera sighs deadpanned. “You know, like when you pummel the same spot in a tree so many times your knuckles go numb? You telling me you never-”“Adam.” Sera cuts off, voice stiff with warning, and Eve has never felt more thankful. “I’m sorry, dear. I’m sorry that you were caused so much pain.""I didn't know!" Adam claims, seeming heavily aware of how inane his next words sounded. "Eve, I swear, I really did think it came naturally to you!"Awkwardly, Eve looks down as a tense silence befalls them, no one truly knowing what to say next. She shifts from one foot to the other.“…Is that all?” Adam ventures, eyes wide and intent. He tries to look assuring, hands on his hips. “It’s okay. We can wait. When they will grow older, they can help out more and-”“I don’t want more children. Ever. Again.” Eve rephrases. “I don’t want to couple ever again.”Adam’s face falls at the implication, and his arms fall to his sides. “Ever?”"You are allowed to choose this for yourself, if that is what you truly want." Sera slowly frowns in caution, understanding threading in her eyes again. “But Eve, I know these past several years have been difficult for you, I would hesitate to-”“Difficult? No, difficult is carrying a stag from the clearing to our cave. This decade has been-” A mirthless laugh erupts from Eve’s mouth, dry and ghastly, the first to escape her in ages, and she brings a trembling hand to her mouth as she holds up another hand to stop Adam from stepping forth worriedly. “Nope! No, no, I’m fine! I’m not crazy.” She repeats, although the looks they give her is not at all reassuring. “What was I saying?”“This decade?” Adam echoes unsurely. “It’s been seven years.”Doubt distracts her. “Cain and Aclima are turning ten. Unless…they already are ten.” She frowns.Adam shakes his head adamantly, seeming irritated. “N-No, they’re turning eight. You and your mood swings mixed up all the numbers.”“How does that make sense? Ten.” Eve insists still, shakily intaking a breath. Had she missed a birthday in all the chaos? “You wouldn’t know, you never spend time with them!” The accusation slips out without thinking, and she clasps a hand to her mouth.“Eight! No way in hell it’s been that long!” Adam’s voice rises stubbornly, and Sera’s wings flap out as both of them startle back.“Both of you calm down! They’re nine!” Sera exclaims, looking between both of them in surprise. “They are turning ten! Though you were both on Earth for much longer.”Adam’s shoulders slump, and he seems to avoid looking directly at the suspicious Seraph as Eve presses a hand to her aching head.“I’m…I’m sorry. I guess I really haven’t been keeping track of things…as good as I could have.” He quietly admits, and Sera holds up a hand to silence him.“I think you both need to talk things through and work something out, for the sake of your own health and that of your children.” Eve blinks in bewilderment, mind screeching to a halt as Adam’s seems to do the same thing. The two humans glance at eachother in question before blinking back at Sera, wondering if they misheard. Were they…receiving the help they so desperately needed yet feared? What would that entail? “No, Adam, that does not include constantly berating her and criticising whatever she does. But first-” Sera raises a finger as Adam’s mouth opens and closes, and though she tries to send strict, her voice softens at the sight of Eve’s fearful expression. “There are some…thoughts of yours I would like to address, Eve. Some misconceptions, it seems, about several things that have happened in your difficult time here. And they are certainly not unfounded, for we have not been receiving the answers we had expected or managing this situation…as best as we could.” At the anxious expression Eve no doubt shows, Sera clarifies carefully, as though approaching a child.“I believe, Eve, that you are long overdue for some time alone. With us. This is not going to be as our formal lessons were. We are going to use this time to heal, and sleep, and talk. The others shall assist in managing the children for now, so you both need not worry for now.” She pauses then, seeming to furrow her brows in thought before turning to the stunned man watching them. “Adam. I am offering this to Eve because she and I need this, but if this is something you would like as well, I can discuss with one of the other angels. You will use this time to rest nevertheless, and if you have questions, you can come to them”“Thank you, Head Seraph, but I’m not going to spend the one break I have talking.” Adam answers, crossing his arms as he nods along with SEra’s plan, though it doesn’t stop the accusation leaking into his voice. "I’m not the one who tried to abandon their family by jumping into a river.”The criticism stings worse because Eve hadn’t expected it, and unbidden tears rush to her eyes again. But much to Eve’s utter surprise, Sera’s form seems to grow, looming over Adam with wings outstretched and flames flickering in her eyes. Both humans stumble back, Eve cowering behind Sera in shock and Adam’s face paling.“Is that all you have to say, upon realizing that you would have never seen her again?” Sera’s voice seems to crackle with electric anger, oddly distorted and misshapen as the humans look to eachother - Adam in shock, and Eve with shame. “She did not abandon her family. She almost died. We are lucky she did not.”“Of course. I-I know that. I didn’t mean to imply differently. I apologise, my anger got the better of me.” Adam readily stammers, so different from the confident cocky man who could so casually scorn her before apologising, leaving her in this confused stance between defensive and self-deprecating. “Please tell me how I can assist, Head Seraph?”Sera seems to think deeply again, giving one observant glance to Eve’s shy form before sinking back to her original height as her wings fold and she sighs deeply. Something about the way her pitying eyes sunk into Eve makes the woman fidget anxiously again, and Sera’s expression twists between angry realization and grief. She raises a finger authoritatively as Adam straightens, eyes narrowed at him with dwindled trust. “You are going to listen to Eve, which includes leaving her alone when she pleases, comforting when she needs, and stopping when she says no. You will not blame her. You will not mock her. You will not so much as touch her except if she so wills it. And most of all?” She narrows her eyes, leaning to meet his own in threat. “You will not strike her. Do you understand?”The man stares, speechless, blinking dumfounded with his jaw tense as his wide eyes dart between Eve and Sera. He opens his mouth to say something, maybe object or defend himself or even agree, but upon meeting Eve’s sullen eyes, he softens, shoulders slumping in defeat.At the admission that Sera somehow knows what happened between them - and how she could possibly know and not say anything until now - leaves Eve feeling strange.“But I never-” He swallows, shaking his head. “Yes. Okay. I will do whatever it takes. Does that mean she’s staying? She’s staying, right?” He eagerly presses, wide eyes fixed on her in despair.Eve numbly stumbles, and Sera’s arms fly over to keep her upright before Adam can. “I don’t want to stay-”“No one is deciding anything right now. I will have to speak to the others and…look at a few things.” Sera’s confident voice dwindles down. “You will eat and sleep separately. The children are young, and I suppose it is about time we greeted them properly. We will help in supervision and lessons, though I’m afraid we cannot prepare food or perform the likes of such chores.”That was it? She was being put on monitoring and pushed back into that dark, empty space in her mind again? “I don’t know, I don’t think it will get better.” Eve sniffles exhaustedly with dread. Eating and not eating didn’t impact it, crying to sleep and forgoing sleep didn’t help, love and hatred didn’t touch it. What could possibly help her out of this deep, stomach-churning, haunting abyss sucking away at anything down the center of her mind? “Eve. Please.” Never has her name sounded so soft, so…wanted and yet not, eerie and heavy with seriousness on the angel’s tongue as she turns towards her. Sera bends slightly to talk to her, the way she used to in Eden, and clasps Eve’s hand in her own with a gentleness the woman felt she had forgotten. The hand is unexpectedly warm, careful as though afraid of breaking her and yet tight in how it secures her. It reminds Eve of the way Sera would hold them back in Eden. The way she used to…before Lucifer promised her- “You are hungry. You are tired. You are hurt. I don’t want you to make a decision you’ll regret.” Sera answers. “I will give you one month. One month to do however you please. Please use it to sleep. Eat. Think.” She runs her eyes over her worriedly, and Adam seems to follow her gaze as he clasps his hands together. Eve shrinks back self-consciously, arms crossing over her starved front. “Perhaps I should perform a medical evaluation of your systems. Although, I do not think it will be very thorough.”Eve bristles when she thinks of the child yet to grow in her aching womb.The child who might have died with her.The child who might not even exist, actually. She didn’t trust anything coming out of her mind right now.Sera is asking more, saying things, but she can’t hear it over the numb buzzing overtaking her ears. Eve stares blankly back, vaguely registering a few questions Sera worriedly directs at Adam now.“When was her last child? Were there complications with the last birth?” Sera’s hand continues to run over Eve’s face, brows furrowed further when she notices her pallor. “How much blood was lost? Were her cycles regular afterwards? When was her last cycle?”“I-I don’t know.” Adam fumbles shamefully.“You don’t…know.” Sera narrows her eyes then, and the air between them turns colder. Eve shivers, words turned to foam in her mouth and unable to come out as Adam shrivels under Sera’s glare. “What do you mean, you don’t know? From our limited information, we documented the youngest must be almost two years, at least? Try to remember the birth, then.”“I wasn’t there during the birth. I - I took the children outside the cave.” He confesses. “Because I didn’t want to leave them outside the cave by themselves and…because…I thought Eve could handle it.”Sera’s hand comes to pinch the bridge of her nose, and Eve looks down, just about to sink to her knees sleepily until another angel puts an arm around her shoulder. The feeling is odd enough as it’s been so long since she was touched this way, but even more odd with their almost floating limb sinking onto her and helping carry her weight as she was straightened carefully to her feet again. Through the blur of confused tears, she cannot tell much about the face a few feet above her.“Escort her to their home. I will join you after a word with Adam.” Sera tells the angel, before giving Eve one final reassuring glance and leaning forward. Eve is not prepared when Sera’s hands cradle her cheeks tenderly, placing the softest kiss on her forehead. It is only a few precious seconds, and yet it infuses her in a way little of anything does. She blinks, wide awake, the heaviness and sorrow from before still lingering and yet - the path between the trees the angel leads her down seems much less dark, though it is still hours before the sun will dawn. Much less…frightening.…Adam knows when he is in trouble. It doesn’t happen often, but when it does happen, he can see the signs. The telltale twitch of the angel’s eyes, careful about voicing any disapproval and yet blunt in their remarks. He knows there is a point to the constructive criticism - most days. He knows and he accepts it - most days. He can forget about it or drown out his worries when he takes a break from the family - most days.Until his Eve had thrown herself in a river.Evidently, today was not most days.Adam watches with dread as Eve is led away. She turns to cast him the barest look of confusion and worry, the most emotion he has seen from her in days, but the angel guiding her away puts a hand on her back and coaxes her back towards their family cave.A part of him hammers with fear - what if this was the last time he saw her? What if the angels were taking her away to be…to be unmade or worse?He had always thought the woman was...immune to that, in a way. Able to see above and beyond the day-to-day doubts, fears and anger that seemed to plague the rest of the Earth. Able to struggle through with a tired yet steady smile, continue feeding the children and working with him. She was the one who looked so calm, even when he snapped and yelled. She was the one who comforted him and...he was used to that. Admittedly, ashamedly, undoubtedly...he couldn't imagine it any other way.Adam’s mind races as the memory of her fall bleeds through his mind, an unmoving horrific moment locked in time. When he had turned and let go of her hand to look for the deer, and turned back to see she wasn't there - when he had seen the last trace of the pale thin arm before the heavy current swallowed her whole. The water burning his eyes and lungs as he desperately swam for her, spurred by the only vivid image in his frantic mind of Eve’s lifeless eyes - the way the animals lifelessly stared back at him before he cut them open. Sera looms over him, face pinched as though she couldn’t decide upon an expression, and her hands are folded behind her back stiffly.He tries to mimic her, back straightening and breaths faltering as he raises his chin dutifully. There were times when he could wave off the angels - rare, small times when he was too stressed. And yet, it seemed this would not be the case.“You’ve already struggled with one wife, Adam. I would think you wouldn’t want to lose the other.” She goes straight for the throat, and his breath hitches as he tries to keep a straight face, arms falling to his sides as he peers up at her.“I didn’t know. You know that, right?” He desperately says. “Head Seraph, you have to believe me, if I had known-”“What do you mean, if you had known?” Sera finally snaps, her voice suddenly sharper. “How do you live with someone, raise children with them, sleep next to them every night, and not know she wants to jump off a cliff?”“No! I didn’t know that was even possible!” Adam frantically replies, gesturing with his hands. She's right, you know she is. You messed up. “Aren’t we supposed to stay away from cliffs?!” Everything had been fine! Eve had been upset and he had been angry, but it got better, it always did! Things had been normal - she had made food and fed the children, and they had left them to hunt together for the first time in ages, and she had even held his hand like they used to! How could he have known, that she’d run headfirst into the stream the moment he looked away?“Do not blame her!” Sera raises a finger, the prior traces of anger flickering back in her eyes as Adam tries to calm himself. He deserved it, he knows. He deserves every bit of the scrutiny and scorn, no matter how much he tried to justify or find ways around it. "I understand you are both overworked and stretched out, but this is not the first time we have talked! In all of our sessions, you told us you and Eve were managing fine!” “What would you have done?” Adam challenges back, now thoroughly upset. “If I had admitted that maybe things weren’t so peachy? What did you do, when Eve was crying in pain from the first birth and no one was there except the two of us? You seemed pleased enough that we seemed to be handling things the way it was ordained to be - Eve and I multiplied, as you said! You're getting your precious humanity at our expense, what more do you want?!”At that, Sera falters, guilt and sorrow erupting in her eyes as he breathes heavily. “What did I tell you, when she was first created? When we first lay her next to you?” She asks, not in a harsh demand nor a mocking challenge, but with sincere concern. He tries to speak past the lump in his throat. Most memories of Eden became distorted over time, and yet he would never forget the hand on his face when he woke up, the curious eyes staring back at him with equal surprise.“That if you couldn’t fulfil your duties, I would make it known and there would be consequences. Do you recall that? Or have you become so comfortable that you’ve forgotten?”His heart thunders in his ears and up his throat, making him feel dizzy and queasy. “The angels and I have made our fair share of miscalculations and incongruent actions. I am aware. I will address this. But-” Sera raises a hand. “You lived with Eve for years and you didn’t notice she stopped eating? That her hair started falling out more than usual after each birth? That she was visibly weaker? I noticed these things within minutes, even without prior context or assessment!”How could you have known? You saw her once, maybe twice after the first couple of births? Adam avoids biting back bitterly, knowing the same accusation would befall him. He had hoped, if Eve became desensitised to the pain like he did, he could pretend he didn’t have to worry so much. He had hoped…that despite it all, she would smile again and hold him and tell him it was okay.It was an unfair hope, he now realises. A burdensome expectation. How could he put that on her? On the kindest, most sensitive soul he knew? Had Eve not deserved the same comfort from him?“You wouldn’t take her away from me, are you?” He whispers with dread instead.“She is not just your wife. She is also the Mother of Humanity. She is also the First Woman to have lived an earthly life. And before any of this, she was and continues to be the beloved daughter of the Heavens.” As Sera’s voice escalates, he nods despite the unease growing in his stomach- he knows that, of course he knows that! He forgets but he knows! Sera only continues. "But clearly, you didn’t think of that before you forced yourself on her-”“I would never- I didn’t!” He instantly replies, now near to tears as the indignant confusion set in. He knew he and Eve had their fair share of hurdles, but he would never force her! The idea of it disgusts him. Unbidden anger blooms from the very suggestion. “Eve consented as did I! She did not tell me ‘no’!”Sera’s eyes watch him sternly, not at all pleased by his reaction. “Did she tell you to stop before?”Did she? Eve’s quiet eyes blink back at him in memory, hesitant as she made excuses to sleep with the children and avoid their bed. “Yes but-”“Did she try to avoid it to begin with?”Adam falters, dread building in his stomach. Eve's lifeless eyes had stared back at him, once so full of light, and he had been so close to stopping - pulling away and kissing her and letting her sleep. But the thought of her leaving haunted him. “…Yes. But then - then she let me-”“Then you coerced her.” Nausea creeps in, and Adam only stares back bewildered at the disappointed and angry Seraph as she moves her hands to explain. “Adam, that is not a simple mistake. You pushed her into something she would not otherwise agree to. She may have indicated with her silence that she did not want to resist, but that does not mean she wanted to participate. That is not consent, that is coercion! Even if you did not know this exact fact, what about your wife’s condition assured you she was in her best state of mind and body to undertake something like that?” The true answer was not assuring, so he does not say it. He senses Sera already knows his response.
Because Eve never says no.
He swallows thickly, bringing a trembling hand to his mouth.
She doesn’t want me. It could be she never did?
Shut up, this isn’t about you. She is the one suffering right now.
She should have felt able to say no and she didn’t.
Perhaps she was afraid of me? Have I made her afraid?
Unbidden, the deep pain on Eve's face when his hand collided with her swims into his mind.
No fucking shit.
I’m sorry. I’m sorry.
The thought of his love avoiding him out of nothing but pure fear wounds him more than any injury he had sustained during his hunts had.“She looked so sad all the time, Sera. I just thought…if we could fix things with the new baby, stopped dragging out when the next baby would come-!” And then she’d look peaceful again. Eve always looked so content with the babies, curling them to her chest and rocking them with her eyes serenely closed. She’d be happy which meant everyone would be happy, which meant Adam hadn't failed and they were all going to be okay. “The only time I ever see her smile is with them.”
I can’t make her happy, but they can.
That does not seem to make Sera any calmer. “Adam, you do realise that every child will need attention from both parents, time to grow and learn and be? I understand that we told you both to be fruitful and multiply, but that does not mean pushing her to pump out as many babies as possible until she collapses from the complications!” She gestures to the direction of their cave, though it is nowhere in sight. Like he has to look, to remember the faces of the depressed wife and hungry children he was responsible for.Adam trembles as a sudden, forbidden thought erupts. “She-she wasn’t going to die from that, was she?” He had thought the angels would grant them enough grace to brave through most of their physical challenges, depending on only them to propagate humanity after all. At Sera’s silence, dread ripples through him, nearly crippling the wilted thing in his chest where his heart used to sit as he swallows. “Sera, please tell me she’s going to be okay. I know I wasn’t thinking, I know I was- I was stupid not to know the things I didn’t, but she’s gonna be okay, right?” He holds his breath infer.“With how much weight she has seemed to have lost, I am worried about her recovery.” Sera says slowly, not directly answering him. Shadows loom over her face despite how her bright light evades the darkness of the surrounding trees. “As strong as she is, I do not think…she will be strong enough to go through yet another birth without much more severe repercussions on her physical and mental health. After all, it is evident you cannot do enough to support her either.”The accusation stings, and something rings in his ears.“But…But I can.” Adam rasps. It starts as a small, misshapen thing but grows more desperate, bold as he stands back up and braves facing her again. His legs tremble, but his expression remains steadfast. “I want to try to do better. I can do better - for Eve, for the children. Just please do not take her away - for my sake.”As soon as the desperate words leave his mouth, he knows he has made a mistake.At that, Sera’s eyes narrow yet again. “The world does not revolve around you, Adam. The grand plan by the Creator none of us can reach? It is far greater than the capacity of any of us, let alone you, to understand. It is not in our capacity to decide if Eve stays or leaves, and if we do eventually need to decide, it will not be in only consideration of your sake. I am sorry that this sounds cold, but that is how things are.” She speaks in a distant, stiff tone she only used when speaking of creation, and he bows his head again, humbled.“I-I understand. I'm sorry.” Adam hoarsely replies, shaken. He’s saying the word he hates far too often, almost without thinking, though he knows it’s always warranted now. He should start to watch what he says. What else had he said, in front of Eve and the children, that lingered uncomfortably in the aftermath of their interactions? Probably much worse, and he had been too stressed and angry to notice.“We trusted you had divisions of duties and a balance we thought would work but clearly…we need to revise some things. I can’t waste time promising an outcome we cannot yet ascertain, but if this…” She fumbles uncharacteristically, and he is suddenly more worried that there was no name for whatever had been haunting Eve and him, no word for the pain she had suffered. “-whatever it is that is happening between you and Eve continues, Adam?” Sera’s glare sinks deep into his bones, a warning and promise thundering through his ears so profoundly it nearly brings him to his knees. His head bows without thinking, and yet the words don't fade. “We can find another way for humanity to thrive.”Another way.Another way, other than he and Eve? How would that work? Were they…going to unmake him and Eve? Banish them? Leave them childless? Were their children going to be forced into the tasks, at such young ages? The most likely thought lingers in Adam's mind, more deeply disturbing than anything. Were they going to take Eve away from him? Away from them all?Sera’s arm sinks onto his shoulder, but her face remains stern, serious as she looks ahead. She is trying to come up with a plan. “Keep in mind what I have advised. If you will excuse me. Michael will be attending soon should you have further questions or concerns to take care of. You are free to retire to your cave as you wish. The others will arrive shortly to aid you in the child caretaking responsibilities as I tend to Eve.”Adam’s mouth moves on its own accord. “I can tend to Eve-”
“No, I’ll do it. You should rest and perhaps….think about this anger of yours.” Sera curtly finishes, bowing her head as her light begins to fade and she turns away in thought.Further dread crawls into Adam’s gut, and as soon as Sera disappears, he runs to throw up in the bushes. Familiar horror grips at his throat, and he gasps for breath at the thought of Eve’s back turned. As he slowly wobbles back towards the cave, only one fear remains, stark and lonely from the rest. It’s something that always sits in his throat, unwilling to leave his tongue and destroy the fragile walls he set up between himself and the harsh world that seemed to determine to chew them up and spit their mangled forms out.
Eve, please don't go.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Hi! So sorry for updating and then leaving things off, a lot of the story is written but I will not be able to edit and post for a long time due to exams coming up. I might find time to allow comments but no promises. I am not abandoning the fic though! The story means a lot to me. At the moment, real life comes first. Stay safe and take care of your mental health, everyone!- TLE