Disclaimer– I do not own the characters, etc. I am only borrowing them from Janet. This is not for profit, just for kicks.

Warning: This is not an HEA story! I'm babe-to-the-bone, but I exercise my pen as needed and sometimes it wanders into unpleasant territory. This is strictly a one shot, just a quick 'what if' scenario.

Knots*
By PinPin (with many thanks to beta, Yllyn)

The phone rang, and the ass stopped to pick it up. "Yo."

Dark, angry spots floated behind my eyes while he listened to the voice on the other end and I resisted the urge to push him off of me. "You're leaving, aren't you?" I bit my lip and tasted blood, hating that I always told myself I wouldn't ask but then always did.

"10 minutes," he barked over the line. He hung up the phone, but didn't answer my question. He just rolled out and away from me.

"Again. You're leaving again." This time it wasn't a question. I didn't need to ask; I knew the answer. It was plain to see in the line of the spine running down the back that was now turned to me.

"Yes."

I followed him as he made his way through the apartment, watching as he gathered his clothes and weapons. His movements were tight and controlled, efficient. He wasn't at home anymore. He was working. "For how long?"

"I don't know." He sent me an angry look that softened my own spine, but stoked my spirit.

"Ouch," I said with more spite than I had initially intended, "that must have hurt." He hated anything that he couldn't control. The only thing he hated more was admitting it, and knowing that fact made me wonder what he'd ever seen in me.

His only reply was an icy stare.

"Well, at least there's some good to come out of this; I've learned something." I had to turn away from him then. My next words were going to hurt me and I didn't want him to see how much. "The more often I admit that I'm stupid, the less it hurts." I knew the moment I said it that it was a lie. I took a deep breath and made myself the promise that I wouldn't cry. If he left me again, I wasn't going to waste the tears.

"You aren't stupid, Stephanie," he spoke in an exhausted tone, like it was something he was tired of saying. He was following me now as I gathered up some of my own clothing.

"Could have fooled me! You certainly treat me like I am!" I hadn't meant to shout. I wanted to be cool. I wanted to be detached. I wanted to care as little as he did.

His voice was softer when he spoke next, but it was cold. "It's a contractual obligation. The intel is classified."

I couldn't believe him. I wasn't some government lackey at the end of a long distance phone line. I didn't deserve that tone and I didn't deserve this pain. I'd thought that I'd earned his trust. He could trust Tank. No matter what jungle he was dropped into, he always found a way to call Tank. Why can't he ever find 30 seconds to leave me a message and let me know that he's still alive? Why wouldn't he let Tank leave the message? Why did his life, our lives, have to revolve around this many secrets?

I was an inch away from pulling out my hair. I had told him that I could handle it. I'd told him that I understood. But he left out a big part of the picture when we'd had that conversation. He'd left out the part about the waiting. He left out the part about not knowing everyday whether he was on his way home to me or bleeding to death in some remote corner of the developing world.

"I don't give a shit about intel, Ric! I just want to know if I should expect you back in two days or two years!" And saying you're sorry you have to leave would be nice. Would it kill him to say it?

I heard the footsteps of his retreat behind me before I had time to turn and witness it. I couldn't stop myself from following them. It was like we were playing the world's worst game of tag. "Or should I even expect you to come back at all?" The words cracked through my lips, unbidden, and my knees went weak.

"I can't predict the future, Stephanie. If that's what you want, you need to find someone else." I'd heard Ranger raise his voice in anger before, but this sounded different. This time, his voice sounded like gravel, like cement. Permanent.

I felt so frail. I had to take a moment to remind myself that I'd decided not to cry. I didn't even have the power to leave him. I just stood there and watched him as he got ready to leave me.

Ranger was in the middle of lacing his boots. He wasn't paying any attention to what he was doing. The strings knotted up. When he pulled to tighten them, they stretched, broke, and snapped at his fingers. He looked down at the broken pieces in his hands and cursed. "Fuck." He threw the laces as far away from him as he could. "I don't need this shit right now." He disappeared into his closet. I assumed it was to retrieve some that were new, untangled, intact. After all, it would ruin his image if the superhero tripped on his shoelaces.

There was no more talking, no more arguing, as he finished his preparations. He was really leaving. What about that couldn't I understand? It was happening in front of me. It kept happening.

My hands were shaking. I wanted to run to him. I wanted to stop him. I wanted to kiss him and beg him and hold him in place. And I hated myself for it. I didn't want to care this much. I'd never wanted to care this much about anything…

But I knew what it meant if he left this way and I couldn't keep quiet. I couldn't help him, and I couldn't help myself.

"You aren't ready," I spoke with a calm that I didn't feel.

"Of course not!" Why was he still shouting at me?

"You're angry."

"Do you think I go on these trips because they're a good time?"

"I won't let you leave in this kind of mood."

"You don't have a choice." He sighed, and it threw me. Ranger never sighs. It's a sign of weakness. "Neither do I."

"I think you do."

"You're wrong." The look on his face had my mind tumbling into the flaming pit where my heart was already waiting. He was right. I'd been so very wrong. "I expect you'll be gone when I get back?"

I almost laughed. "You mean like the way you're always gone when I'm hoping to see you?"

He didn't answer. I thought he'd give me his 'this is work, not personal' speech, but that was probably just one more thing he was tired of having to say to me. "Call Ella if you need something," he said over his shoulder. "Tank will send notice when I'm back in town."

"Whenever that'll be." I was proud of the strength in my voice. Suddenly the tilt of my world seemed to right itself.

He was staring.

I was staring right back at him. "Don't worry. I'll be gone." Maybe if I tried hard enough I could live through this. "I'm half packed already."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ranger watched all of her tender feelings for him unravelling. All that was left in their place was the disappointment and anger that were sprouting beneath. He'd been waiting for this day. Why'd you ever love me in the first place, Babe?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He grabbed his bag and glanced back at me as he turned the doorknob.

Did he have any idea what his eyes could do to me?

"I knew better," he practically whispered and then slammed the door behind him as he left.

I was alone in the apartment, enveloped by the vibrant silence. Until I broke it, speaking to myself and imagining that someone who cared was listening, "I didn't." But for every minute I stood gazing at that dark, solid, blank door, I knew with increasing certainty that I should have. I should have known.

He didn't even kiss me goodbye.

A/N: This is a one-shot from Feb. '10 posted at Y!PerfectlyPlum. Thank you for reading.
[* inspired by the song: 'Take It In' by Wye Oak, e-mail me for a link to the mp3 file]