Author's Note: I'm having a stress and anxiety induced case of writer's block which is why there hasn't been any new Breakable recently. Don't worry; I'm not giving up. I just need to take a break until I can get myself back together. Besides, the past 2 weeks of dry spell have taught me that I'm even more miserable when I'm NOT writing.
I asked folks in LJ's Primeval_denial to toss me some prompts. Deinonychus _1 asked for "Becker/Jess - conversation in the dark". The prompt grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and refused to let go. But what came out first is Becker/Abby, not Becker/Jess. There is a Becker/Jess idea as well based on this prompt, but I'm not going to put that one up yet because it's a future piece of Breakable….
~~oOOo~~
"I'd forgotten how many stars there are."
Becker's words were felt more than heard, a rumbling of harmonics in the chest beneath her and his mouth beside her ear. She shivered and he pulled her tighter to his side for a moment, lips caressing across her cheek in an affectionate gesture born of familiarity as much as sentiment. Sometimes it was the warmth and comfort drawn of these miniscule rituals more than anything else that kept them both going day after day.
She shifted her body beside him, seeking a comfortable position for her hips on the hard packed ground beneath them. He let out a tiny umph of breath when her elbow accidentally connected.
"Sorry," she mumbled, half asleep already.
He looked over at her, watching as she drifted away from him into dreamland. A smudge ran from her cheek down to her chin, probably from wiping her hair out of her face with a dirt-crusted hand. Farther down, he could feel the gentle swell of her abdomen pressed against his side.
Looking out into the distance through one of the cracks in the makeshift barricade of the decaying building which they'd called home for the past 3 months, Becker could see the coruscating sparkle and shift of an anomaly just a few hundred yards away. It'd been opening and closing at regular 3 hour intervals for three days now. It figured that Connor of all people would think to get their attention by patterning the opening and shutting of the anomaly to spell out S.O.S. in Morse Code.
Gripping the Mossberg he'd scavenged from the skeletal remains of Helen's last foray into the future, Becker silently vowed that tomorrow would be the day. Even if he died to keep the future predators off their backs, tomorrow he'd send Abby back through that doorway. Back into Connor's arms. Back to where she could give birth to their child in safety.
Beside him, Abby whimpered in her sleep. He turned his head to whisper into her ear, the sound of his voice soothing away the fears and nightmares.
"The woods are lovely, dark, and deep. But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep."