Jack lets his head fall forward as he lets out a long breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He feels shaky from the dissipating adrenaline, even as a very, very small part of him feels slightly disappointed. He had always wanted more than one child, after all. But then the knowledge of all the complications, all the problems their having a child would bring--not to mention the danger that child would be in from the moment of it's birth--more than makes up for it, and that small amount of disappointment lacks the power to sting.
But now he's not sure what to do. Their time in Milliwaysm, their relationship had seemed like some kind of wonderful dream. Only this had woken him, as as much as he'd like to hold on to the dream, the real world is intruding.
Leaning against the doorway, Chris realizes how tired she is. She's tempted to go over, sit down next to Jack, wrap her arms around him and go back to the way things had been.
But that wasn't possible anymore. She had hid her room the past few days, partly because she needed more time but also because she was afraid to face Jack. What if her feelings had changed? What if everytime she saw him, she also saw him holding the gun on her father? Chris wanted to keep that separate from all her other memories of Jack but she couldn't, it was him. The same hands that held her, killed her father. And nothing could change that.
She didn't want to let him go but she wasn't sure what hope this relationship had, it was barely tolerated by their friends and her family in Milliways. She could never tell her family back home the truth without risking her relationship with them and having them hate Jack and that was assuming she could ever introduce them to him which was a big assumption.
Their little trips outside didn't mean anything because right now, this relationship couldn't exist outside. And that situation wasn't changing.
He stares at the floor for a minute, knowing her statement likely wasn't just about the scare they'd just had. He knows her well enough to know that she has to be thinking the same things he is.
He doesn't want to say it, but one of them has to. "Chris...I don't know where we can go from this."
She had expected this response and she couldn't be angry, not like before, because he was right. Maybe all this time spent trying to build something, maybe it was just prolonging the inevitable.
Still she kept trying to think of something, anything she could hold onto. Some slim ray of hope to grasp.
"Maybe," she echoes, too tired to argue and nothing to say if she tried.
Chris folds her arms again, wanting to feel some warmth. "I can come by later and get my things." Her eyes don't leave the floor as she says this and some part of her mind wonders how she can be this calm.
He nods, still not looking at her, too scared that if he does he'll lose his nerve. He keeps telling himself that they can't go back; he knows this. That if they tried things wouldn't be the same, wouldn't be as comfortable as they had been.
He doesn't have a choice here, and it's tearing his heart out.
"Okay. I wish--" he starts to say, but stops. Doubtless she knows what he's wishing right now, because doubtless she's wishing the same things.
I wish I'd never had to follow Saunders' orders, never had to shoot Ryan. I wish I'd never had to fake my death, and talk away what last chance of a future we could have had.
He stands, slowly getting to his feet and walking over to where she's standing in the bathroom doorway.
"Chris, I just want you to know..." He pauses for a moment before gently reaching out to touch her cheek, "...I want you to know that no matter how things turned out, I don't regret falling in love with you."
She leans into the touch for a second. I don't want you to leave.
For an instant, she thinks about taking back everything she had just and asking him to stay, they had each other and this place and they didn't need anything else. Or they could live outside, she'd go with him, anywhere. She had the resources, she could live his life and leave hers behind.
Could I?
But she couldn't give up her family and even if she wasn't ready now, she couldn't give up the possibility of having children. Chris turns her head, moving out of his touch, and looks away. She swallows the lump in her throat and her eyes sting.
There's a stab of pain when she turns away from his touch, though he knows why she's doing it. Though he knows that it's the only way they're going to be able to do this.
He lets his hand drop, even though all he wants to do is pull her close to him and let her cry on his shoulder. But that would only make it more difficult.
"Goodbye, Chris," he says, quietly, before turning his back on her and heading for the door. 'I love you' doesn't really need to be said.
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But now he's not sure what to do. Their time in Milliwaysm, their relationship had seemed like some kind of wonderful dream. Only this had woken him, as as much as he'd like to hold on to the dream, the real world is intruding.
no subject
But that wasn't possible anymore. She had hid her room the past few days, partly because she needed more time but also because she was afraid to face Jack. What if her feelings had changed? What if everytime she saw him, she also saw him holding the gun on her father? Chris wanted to keep that separate from all her other memories of Jack but she couldn't, it was him. The same hands that held her, killed her father. And nothing could change that.
She didn't want to let him go but she wasn't sure what hope this relationship had, it was barely tolerated by their friends and her family in Milliways. She could never tell her family back home the truth without risking her relationship with them and having them hate Jack and that was assuming she could ever introduce them to him which was a big assumption.
Their little trips outside didn't mean anything because right now, this relationship couldn't exist outside. And that situation wasn't changing.
"So that's that."
no subject
He stares at the floor for a minute, knowing her statement likely wasn't just about the scare they'd just had. He knows her well enough to know that she has to be thinking the same things he is.
He doesn't want to say it, but one of them has to. "Chris...I don't know where we can go from this."
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Still she kept trying to think of something, anything she could hold onto. Some slim ray of hope to grasp.
There wasn't one.
"I don't know either."
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He doesn't want to say it, doesn't want to lose what they had, lose her, but it doesn't look like he has a choice. No going back. Not now.
"Maybe...maybe we should end this here," he says hoarsely, forcing the words out.
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Chris folds her arms again, wanting to feel some warmth. "I can come by later and get my things." Her eyes don't leave the floor as she says this and some part of her mind wonders how she can be this calm.
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He doesn't have a choice here, and it's tearing his heart out.
"Okay. I wish--" he starts to say, but stops. Doubtless she knows what he's wishing right now, because doubtless she's wishing the same things.
I wish I'd never had to follow Saunders' orders, never had to shoot Ryan. I wish I'd never had to fake my death, and talk away what last chance of a future we could have had.
He stands, slowly getting to his feet and walking over to where she's standing in the bathroom doorway.
"Chris, I just want you to know..." He pauses for a moment before gently reaching out to touch her cheek, "...I want you to know that no matter how things turned out, I don't regret falling in love with you."
no subject
For an instant, she thinks about taking back everything she had just and asking him to stay, they had each other and this place and they didn't need anything else. Or they could live outside, she'd go with him, anywhere. She had the resources, she could live his life and leave hers behind.
Could I?
But she couldn't give up her family and even if she wasn't ready now, she couldn't give up the possibility of having children. Chris turns her head, moving out of his touch, and looks away. She swallows the lump in her throat and her eyes sting.
It's better this way.
"I know. I've never regretted our relationship."
But sometimes I still think I should.
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He lets his hand drop, even though all he wants to do is pull her close to him and let her cry on his shoulder. But that would only make it more difficult.
"Goodbye, Chris," he says, quietly, before turning his back on her and heading for the door. 'I love you' doesn't really need to be said.