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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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.

"I don't have to like it," she said in response. She didn't like where his mind usually went and she didn't want to cause him any more pain over what he thought of himself. That's really all it ever came down to for them. He thought he wasn't deserving and she thought he was wrong. In the end, she managed to get him to marry her despite his thoughts on himself. She knew she couldn't change his mind.

Darcy kept up the affectionate touches while tucked under that blanket, "I'm letting you talk if you need to. Not even about the kids thing... I'm not pushing that. I'm offering to listen, is all."

It was about the issue about children, though. Otherwise they were great. Golden. They lived an easy life now, but time and energy to spare for each other. But this was an issue, one they needed to solve somehow.

"I cut ties with my family when I was sixteen," he started, again mumbling against her shoulder. "I vanished, and never let them hear from me again. My father died without knowing what happened to me. I found my mother on her deathbed, and I was the one who ended her life. I haven't set foot in school since the day I left home, and practically every skill I have has been stolen from someone else's head. And, it's been years since I lost track of how many people I've killed. So many, and sometimes I think they are all hiding somewhere inside my head." He trailed off, silent for a moment, staring at nothing. "What kind of a father could I ever hope to be?"

It broke her heart to hear him talk like that about himself. He's seen so much in his life and somehow that's painted the way he views himself and he can't escape that. No amount of love and affection she can offer would allow it. He had to find the answers for himself.

"It makes you a man who has seen the worst of the world and is so much wiser than a lot of us," she murmured to him, wishing she could get her arms around him. "But what about the good things? The people you saved by keeping others off the streets. You saved me from imploding. You kept Francis safe. I know I can't convince you, Jonathan, but you aren't some monster and I think it's more important you solve that than thinking about the father you could be. You need to see the man you are now... the way I see you."

She thought that maybe she should ask if she could show him. Let him into her head and see him through her eyes but... no.

"You are too good to me." He sighed and held her tighter. At least he hoped she understood why he was so hesitant to help bring another life into the world. "And I love you for it."

It was so quiet out there. Quiet and dark. Maybe that was what made it easier to talk like this.

Darcy shut her eyes as he held her tighter and told her why he loved her. It made her smile, nestle in closely to him. He didn't see himself like she did, but he saw her in a way that she didn't also. They were both seeing the best in flawed people.

"We all deserve a little goodness," she whispered, turning her face just slightly to nose against his temple and murmured, "I love you."

He just held her tightly for a moment before he eased up and sat up straighter, clearing his throat. "And now I need a drink." He hadn't meant to get all brooding on her, but hey. Sometimes it happened. But it would be a shame to ruin the night with that, so he pulled himself together. "Could you dig out the flask from the bag?"

She didn't think he ruined it. She thought he was letting her in on what was in his head. She was okay with that, even if it got dark sometimes. He asked for the flask though and she giggled, managing to escape the blanket very quickly and dig it out before snuggling back in against him. "Here," she offered to hand it to him.

He finished off the tea while she found the flask, and then traded his empty mug for the flask. After settling much like they had been before he took a sip, feeling the familiar burn down his throat. He didn't speak now, just let the silence settle again,

He went to town a moment later and hike they sat there in silence she let her mind wander. She really did care about him. This wasn't about what she wanted but what they could have together. That was what was important to her. That was how she wanted them to care for each other.

"I didn't mean to drive you to drink," she murmured, teasing in her tone while she rested her head back against his shoulder.

"Baah, strange woman-folk. See what you make us men do in order to cope." He grinned, unseen and offered up the flask. "Want some?"

"I'll go home and cry about that later," she deadpaned right back at him. He then was offering her the flask and she took it, taking a swig and passing it back. Darcy was not a fan of bourbon, because she was one hell of a lightweight.

"Ugh... I can't drink that stuff," she shivered as it ran down her throat.

"Wimp," he teased, taking back the bottle and leaning in to kiss her neck. It was true, he got to keep his liquor cabinet mostly to himself, unless Francis decided to stop by, which was something that happened far more seldom than it should.

"I am not a wimp," she argued and shrugged as he kissed her neck again. He was being fairly affectionate tonight. Not that she minded. "One of us has to keep a brain functioning. I can't expect you to control yourself. "

"When you talk like that it makes me think I should have brought a bigger bottle." He grinned and took a swig from his flask.

She laughed and leaned back heavily against him, "You want to get out of coming out here with me ever again," she teased. She knew that wasn't the case and web if it was, stargazing had only ever been her thing.

He shifted a bit to accommodate her, keeping the blanket secure around the two of them. True, he didn't much care for stargazing, at least not enough to make a thing out of it. Though there had been many a night out in the backyard on summer nights, just him and a bottle of bourbon. Nights were tranquil times. This was no exception, though he had come out here with her not to see the stars, but to spend time with her.

"Perhaps, perhaps. At least for this time of year," he half-joked back. She wouldn't have as much problem getting him to agree in the warmer months of the year.

"Do you still want to move somewhere warmer?" She figured now was as good a time as any to ask about that. He seriously hated the cold andthough being somewhere hot all the time didn't sound great, she didn't like having him suffer either.

Her only concern was leaving Quinn and Francis behind.

He let the silence stretch out, thinking before answering. "Yeah. I feel done here." A house was just a house, but that was where he had lived during the worst years of his life. In most ways he had left that period behind him, so severing that last tie felt like a good idea.

"There's really nothing left here, except for Francis. And he's moving on." It almost hurt, how the little man pushed forward without him. But it was an unfair thought, of course the little man should reclaim the life he wanted if he could. And if Ford felt a bit left behind at time, well... Maybe he should just focus in building his own life with his beautiful wife.

"What about you? Don't you want to stay close to your sister?"

She understood his answer and what he wanted, but there was so many different aspects of this. She felt like she was going to lose a lot by leaving. She'd spent so much time here and grown so much. She should, perhaps, consider what somewhere else might have to offer assuming she could find work.

"I worry about her," she answered first and foremost, "I don't know if she needs me though and I shouldn't be inserting myself into her life if she doesn't. I'd always been on my own, so it shouldn't bother me to leave."