freedhunter | (no subject)

(no subject)

Going to the mall during the busy hours probably hadn't been the best of ideas, Ford thought as his wife and him were making their way through the crowds, bumping shoulders with passerby's ever so often. He was mainly just annoyed, but he worried about her. Crowds and Darcy had never been the best of combination. Though as far as he could tell, she was holding up okay. Comparing her now to the woman he had first met was like comparing night and day.

Still, they had some shopping to get done, shopping they had been putting off for long enough already. And it had to be now, if they wanted to get home to have dinner at any sort of suitable hour, and go out stargazing later in the evening like he had promised her they would. It wasn't often that he agreed to go out and do that with her, so now that he had promised he wanted to keep that promise.

But it was still crowded. And loud. And annoying and frustrating and full of idiots and... And crowded.

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"He's good." He talked with him often over the phone, but they didn't meet up as often as Ford would have liked. But the man was busy, Ford knew, and he had just properly settled in into married life, himself. "He's just about working himself to the bone trying to get better, from what I can tell. Seems Quinn's helping him out a lot. Seems she's always at his place when I call." He had his definite suspicions about that, but so far Francis hadn't said anything.

Darcy had her own suspicions. Quinn was always either working or helping Francis. She wasn't sure if she was trying to ignore what happened to her until it went away and those feelings vanished--which they wouldn't--or if she was involved in something she couldn't tell her. There was the thought that those two had become close, but she didn't let her mind wander that direction.

"He'll get there," she said as positively as she could. He was a strong man, strong enough to come out of it in the first place. He'd make it. He had to.

Edited 2012-11-15 22:38 (UTC)

"I'm just worried he's pushing himself too hard. I know he wants to get back to where he was." And that scared Ford a little, because that might mean that Francis was preparing to get out there again. Back to work, back to hunting. Back to killing, he thought, thought he knew that taking life had never been Francis' first choice.

"What about Quinn? What's she doing when she's not playing nurse or personal trainer to Francis?"

"Maybe he'll know when he hits his limit," she tried to sound encouraging. It wasn't easy especially since he seemed like the type to be very dedicated to what he set his mind to. It reminded her a lot of Quinn.

"I don't hear from her much. She's training and trying to figure out where they're going to put her. I don't want her back in that, but I can't tell her no. I have no place to," she resigned herself to that a long time ago. "She's going to do what she's going to do and there's nothing I can say or do to stop it. And I don't think she does have the sense to know where her limits are."

"Francis is the kind of guy that, when it comes to himself, he'll find that limit and then try to take one step past it. If he can't, he'll nurse his wounds and try again. And again. Maybe that's how he became as strong as he did."

But about Quinn, well... "You're the big sister, of course she's not going to listen. But hopefully Flynn will have some sense for once and she'll listen to him. And Francis can be good when it comes to making Flynn see reason."

"I hate not having any control over this," she muttered. That wouldn't surprise Ford at all. Darcy's quest for control often left her feeling short of her goal and self-loathing. She wasn't going to be able to control her sister or make her see any sort of reason, but maybe someone else could and Darcy would have to accept that as that being as good as it would get. That was all she could do.

Francis was someone Darcy trusted, however. She could understand him and feel like he had Quinn's welfare in his best interest. That would have to do.

He glanced over. "I know you do." And he did know. He had gotten so much better, but she still had her issues.

They finally arrived at their destination; a field outside of the city. With no city lights there, no light-pollution, the night sky seemed to come alive. Ford parked and got out, fetching the blankets and the bag from the backseat. "So... Pick a spot."

He understood and he knew when to push and when to tell her to shut up and right now all he had to do was let her know he got it. She was always going to struggle with some aspects of this control issue, but she was much better than she had been.

They arrive and climb out of the car. Looking up at the sky and then the field, she headed out to a big open spot, coat tugged tightly around her, the collar popped up over her neck to keep in the heat. "Here's good," she said finally, still standing with her eyes turned up.

One of the blankets were placed on the ground to keep the cold in the ground from seeping up into them. Then, as soon as she had sat down, he took a seat behind her, long legs on either side of her, and wrapped the two of them up in the remaining blanket. That was as cozy as it was going to get. Which wast actually quite a lot.

"So what do you see today?" He asked, resting his chin on her shoulder.

Darcy essentially folded up into the fetal position with her legs pulled up to her chest and leaning back against him. He was warm and the blanket helped and the sky was gorgeous tonight. The stars were bright and the void a beautiful black, hints of color around the edges. She was really glad he'd agreed to go stargazing with her. It was something that soothed her.

"I see..." she smiled up at the sky. She could answer with the constellations and where certain satellites should be passing over, but no, today she would be a little more poetic. "I see options. I see different paths and serenity. I see something that I don't need to control."

He smiled and turned his head to kiss her neck. "You're in a philosophical mood today," he mused, and after yet another brief kiss to her neck he looked up again. He couldn't see options, nor could he see paths. But he could see serenity and something that didn't need to be controlled. Something that couldn't be controlled, and that was just fine.

She tilted her head to the side as he kissed her neck and smiled, "Even I get tired of thinking in grids and boxes after a while." That's often what she saw. There was a lot of times that she mapped things out and found perfect grids and boxes and then all she could do was see those little squares. She needed to not think that way all the time.

But she was still stuck on them and it was still running through her head. "You're never in a philosophical mood," she teased him. "Everything is one thing or another."

"Oh, I can get philosophical. But that's usually not very good." Guilt and death and what ifs and... So many what ifs. Those were the times when he would brood, go off on his own and not really communicate. He preferred it when he had his head squarely on his shoulders instead of up in the clouds. His feet firmly on the ground.

He opened the blanket enough to reach out into the bag and take out the thermos and the two plastic mugs they had brought with them. Quickly as to not loose the heat trapped in the blanket he filled the mugs, handed one to her. Then with some maneuvering he managed to hold the blanket closed in one hand and his mug in the other.

"Okay, so no philosophical conversations, but what about theoretical " he would know where she was going with this immediately, but the conversation had come up earlier and she felt that she could ask again. Maybe not for a direct answer, but that she was looking for him to give her one and preferably sooner than later.

She took the mug with a thanks and helped pull the blanket shut around them to keep out the cold. The heat from the mug helped keep her warm.

He could guess where she was going with that. Taking a deep breath and willing his mind to keep calm and not go on immediate defense and feel bad, he took a sip of tea and nodded. "Okay then. Theoretical. Shoot."

She wasn't sure she could actually come up with a good way to phrase this, but most of all she wanted to know his heart about it. She knew what he logically could tell her about why they shouldn't have children, but he's yet to explain emotionally what that would mean. And she couldn't bring up a child in a loveless home if the father didn't want them in the first place.

"Theoretically, let's say we do have a baby," she breached it slowly, "do you imagine you'd resent me for pushing you?" She hasn't been pushing too hard but there was pressure.

He shook his head. "No." If they had a baby, then it wouldn't be an accident. It had been many years since he had rendered himself infertile. I was a simple thing for a shifter like him. A simple thought, blockage to the vasa deferentia, and ta-daa: the easiest vasectomy ever done. So in other words, if they had a baby, then he had agreed to it. He would have made an active decision. And he wasn't the type to be pushed into that against his will.

"Theoretically, let's say we don't." Of course he had to turn the tables. "Will you resent me for refusing you children?"

Short and to the point, isn't he? No discussion, just that he wouldn't resent her. Okay, that was at least a good thing. It meant that he wouldn't feel she was to be blamed for that direction their life may or may not go. Even so, she was glad to hear it. It wasn't an answer, but it was something. Until he asked his own question. She took a sip from her mug first.

"No," she answered just as quickly after the sip. She didn't want to tell him that she was anticipating a no in the first place, but she didn't want to say anything much about it, really. Still... "I long decided that if you don't want to, that I'd much rather have you than have you not like me anymore for it. I think I just want to know..." she trailed off.

He knew, he really did owe her an answer, she deserved to know what she was going to get from him. The trouble was... "I'm not saying no. Not... I don't know, yet. I know you want them, and I am giving it a great deal of thought, I just... I still think I'm not suitable to be a dad."

He hugged her tighter, against resting his chin on her shoulder. "I know it's not fair to keep you waiting like this."

The way he hugged her tighter made her feel more secure. It meant that he wasn't dragging her along without regard to her feelings. He very clearly cared that she did get an answer, but he needed to make the decision himself. She respected that. Darcy rested her hand over one of his thighs as he braced her between his legs.

"I'm being impatient," she said, tilting her head to lean against his, "I'm unable to control your decision and we both know how crazy that makes me. You deserve the time to decide and I'm not making that decision for you. But... you would be a good father. Then again, I also know that if you don't want to be and decide to anyway... that's not good for anyone."

Over time, Ford had gotten far better at communicating with Darcy, to speak his mind and drop the snarly facade when he needed to. To actually share. Thank God for that, otherwise they wouldn't be having this much-needed conversation.

"It's not that I don't want to be a dad. It's more that I shouldn't be." He paused for a sip of tea, silent a moment longer after he had lowered the mug. "Before you it was easy. I didn't have to think about it. I wasn't going to be a dad and that was it. I didn't have to think about whether I wanted to be or not."

he sighed, leaning more heavily against her, hi mouth against the back of her shoulder. "And just so you know," he mumbled. "I'm very close to getting all philosophical and brooding on you."

She was grateful for him opening up sometimes. It used to be a constant guessing game. They kept all the emotion inside and never once talked it out. She had even become more able to express herself, not feeling like every little thing was going to set him off. When he did admit to feeling a little broody, she immediately drew back any further questions she might have. This could wait. He deserved to take the time he needed.

Darcy rubbed her hand affectionately against the outside of his thigh, "Don't do that, sweetheart," she murmured back to him, turning her head slightly to catch a glimpse of him, "Do me one favor, though... don't forget that I fell for you. There's got to be something right with you."

He was never going to be able to explain why he felt he would be such an unfit parent if he didn't talk about the darker parts of him and his past. But even if he did explain, he wasn't sure she would understand.

He smiled against her shoulder at those words. "Or there's something very crazy about you." He didn't know if there was something right with him, but he did know that he was doing something very right for her.

Darcy snorted in reply and smacked his leg where she'd previously been being sweet. "There's absolutely something crazy about me," she agreed, even if he was insulting her. It was good. She felt good with him. She felt like herself and that things could be okay. "You're so obnoxious," she shook her head, leaning back then so she could look up at the sky. If she could get herself to tuck in closer to him than she already was, she would. He was keeping her warm, even if he claimed she was the warm one.

"You're allowed to talk if you need to," she expressed softly. It wasn't a push to make him do so, but she felt that she should verbalize the option for him.

He grinned. "I am, and you love me for it." Strangely enough, she did.

They settled again, silence falling, heavy but not uncomfortable. "You wont like it," he said in reply to her invitation to talk. She didn't like it when he tried to explain why he wasn't a good man. They had been there many times before, then in regards to their relationship, why he so often had felt that she would be better off without him. He still felt that on occasion, but he no long voiced it. She had made her choice and married him despite knowing who and what he was, and he was so grateful for that, that she just wouldn't listen when he said that she was too good for him.