Nowhere Man
Summary: "Have you had enough time?"
A/N: After seven comments, I've gone with Jesse Mathews. And I changed Two-Bit's mother's name from Mattie to Helen. Darrel Curtis makes a special appearance.

Never in my entire life was I more afraid of what was coming through those two metal doors. I sat there in a goofy looking green cap and a matching smock over-top of my t-shirt and jeans. My shoes stuck out from under the ankle length smock; they were scuffed, leather, and browning from it's original black color. The signs of being worn and worked. I swerved my feet under me, mesmerized almost, and frowned lowly; I could feel my wrinkles deepening around my mouth and eyes. I was scared.

Soon a lady in a suit like mine, except blue, was holding a blue blanket bundled around a wiggling, crying object. Boy did the kid have a pair of lungs; he wailed and wailed until my ears hurt. Then, as soon as the nurse placed him in my arms, he quieted for a moment, then jabbered some baby gibberish at me. He constantly talked and wiggled and talked some more. His pink chubby fingers connected to pink chubby arms reached out from the blue blanket out towards me; his little fingers enter-twined in my two week old facial hair and yanked, giggling at the grunting noise I made as he did so. The hat that the nurse had put on him was falling off, revealing a little reddish-brown hair, almost rusty colored, curled atop his head. Slowly, and for the first time, I touched his pink-pale little skin while retrieving the hat. He was a soft little thing, weak and defenseless. And he sure did giggle a lot.

Now the hat sat properly on his head, his little blue-gray eyes blinking up at me. He yawned a toothless yawn, snuggling down into the crook of my arm. The nurse returned, saying, "You may see your wife now."

That was a lie. She wasn't my wife yet. But in any matter I took the sleeping bundle of flesh, vulnerable and innocent, into the bright white room where the woman I loved laid, exhausted. Once I was inside, I took a plastic chair and sat in it with a thud, but Mattie quickly protested, "Not so rough."

I nodded, passing the baby to her like a football. She took him, smiling a little, and whispered, "Hello there little one."

The pink little fellow spoke to her in his own language, which she seemed to understand, because she returned with an, "I know, I know."

Then with her bright blue eyes, she looked at me and questioned, "What's his name, Jesse?"

I leaned back and thought for a moment. "I don't know," I answered honestly. "Clyde?"

"No." She shook her head, her messy red hair bobbing on her head. The pink fellow was staring at her hair.

"Kenneth?"

"Keith," Helen said in a tone which told me that it was final. "Keith Mathews."

I reached out to him; Keith took my finger in a grip, moving it to his mouth. He sucked on it for a moment, his gums mashing against my calloused finger. He took it out and said something else in his language. "But he sure does get his two-bit's worth in," I added, and Helen only smiled.

After countless minutes, which seemed like hours, of cooing and whining, gibberish talk and kisses, we were permitted to leave, which I gladly accepted. Helen handed me Keith, which I held like a football in the nook of my left arm, the right holding him upright by his stomach. He wiggled a little, then stayed put. I wanted to pat his head and say 'Good boy,' like a puppy. Helen was gently placed into a wheelchair, and once she was settled, I returned her baby. She cradled him and he told her something I didn't catch.

I grabbed the handles and wheeled her out of the room. We were stopped at the main desk, being told to check out. I signed her out after a moment of hesitation. I brushed some greasy strands of reddish-brown hair from my eyes and grabbed Helen's chair. Just as I began to push, Helen tilted her head towards me and smiled an award winning smile. "Jesse…" she began. "I love you."

My cheeks heated a little and my eyes grew slightly larger.

"I love you too, baby," I whispered.

Night air engulfed us when we went through the large, sliding hospital doors. I loved the night air, the night life, anything about the night. I rolled her to my old ford truck, red and faded almost to the point of pink, and opened the door. With my hand out, she grabbed it and hoisted her self up and into the passenger seat, securing Keith the whole way. Once her belt was on and Keith was quiet, I shut the door and folded the chair, putting it into the truck bed. Everything on the old truck was creaking, rusty, or broken. Helen didn't mind the bad state of my car, just as long as we got where we were going.

Now I sat next to her in the driver's side, turning the key and hearing the truck begin to start. But that's all it did, it began. Groaning, I turned the key again, hearing it hiss and splutter. Helen giggled at me and my irritation. I forced a grin and tried again, hitting the gas pedal and break as I did until it started.

"Sorry," I muttered, embarrassed. Again she giggled and was joined by the pink wiggly thing in her arms.

"That's fine, honey."

We backed out, more so I backed out since I was in control, and headed for the main road. Her house wasn't too far away, maybe five miles or so. But my gas meter showed the needle on the point right next to E. "Mind if I stop for gas?" I asked.

"Of course."

I stopped at the DX; there was only car there at the time. It was a blue ford in a little better shape than mine. The driver was pumping gas while holding a little kid in his arms. The kid was a mirror image of the guy. I got out at the pump across from him.

"Evenin'," he offered, the kid waving at me.

"Evening."

"What are you doing out so late?" he asked. I began pumping gas into the car, watching the numbers slowly rise.

"Got myself a kid," I whispered. I looked up. "What's his name?" I asked, looking at the kid he was holding. The man had bags under his eyes and looked exhausted.

"Darrel Shayne Curtis… the second," he said proudly, and baby Darrel held up two fingers, crying, "Second," a couple of times. "Yours?"

"Keith… Mathews."

Darrel looked at me for a moment, his icy blue eyes peering into me; he smiled. "That's a good name."

Helen leaned out of the driver's window. "Thank you." Darrel, a little surprised, leaned over to look at her. Helen kept grinning.

"Hello, ma'am," he offered.

"Helen is fine." She smiled at him, and he returned it.

Putting his kid on the hood of his car, he finished pumping gas and hung the nozzle up. "Mind keeping an eye on his trouble maker?" he asked. "I'll be a minute."

Helen jumped the gun, "Of course, sweetie."

Darrel smiled and went inside the station, leaving baby Darrel, lets call him Darry, on the hood. I finished pumping a moment later, and hung the nozzle up. I kept my eyes on Darry, who was kicking his legs back and forth, looking terribly bored. He was looking around. He was small, just a kid, but good looking like his father.

Soon Darrel returned with a gallon of milk in his hands and dropping a little change on the ground. "Thanks," he said.

"Maybe," Helen called, "when Keith grows up a little he and Darry can have a play date or something."

Nodding, Darrel grabbed his son and slid into his car. "I'd bet my wife would like that." He looked at Darry for a moment. "And to think she wants two more of these guys." His gaze returned to us. "In case ya'll need a baby sitter, you can come to our house; my wife would love it. We're in that little white house with the fence, across from the park."

"We'll do that," Helen said, and Darrel grinned.

"Take care now."

"You too," I returned.

After paying for the gas, we were back on the road to Helen's house. It was near midnight when I pulled up. Helen jumped out before I got the wheelchair out for her. She said something about not wanting to feel weak and that she needed help. I loved that about her.

"Darrel was very optimistic," she said as I held the door open for her. I leaned in and kissed her softly.

"He was." I shut the screen door between us. "I'll be back tomorrow," I said, but her face fell a little.

"I want you to live with us. You're his father, and he needs one…" she trailed off. "I need you to be with me."

My hand pressed against the screen; her hand floated up and touched it. She was so young. "Okay," I said. She smiled at me. "I'll be back tomorrow morning with my things. Get some sleep."

"Okay."

I returned the next day with nothing but a duffle bag. There wasn't much to my name except a few t-shirts, jeans, a few tins of grease, a couple packs of smokes, and about two hundred dollars. And Helen, young and beautiful, loved me for everything I had. She welcomed me with open arms, except Keith was in one of them, sleeping. We kissed innocently as I walked in. I went on upstairs, putting my things on the bed in her… our… room, looking around. It was clean, fresh smelling. The crib was in the corner of the room.

"Jesse?" she called.

"Yeah?"

"I want to talk to you."

Cautiously I climbed down the stairs, finding her on the couch feeding Keith. I walked over and sat in a chair across from her. I felt like a child in trouble for breaking something. "Yeah?"

She was glowing, bright and flawless. "Do you love me?" she asked after a moment.

"Of course."

Helen looked down for a moment at Keith, then back up. "I want to marry you."

I froze, the color in my face draining. "H-Helen… I don't think…"

"Jesse…"

"…we're ready for that." I stood and approached her, sitting on the coffee table that separated us and grabbed her hand. "Give me time…" I almost begged.

After a moment, she smiled, leaned in and kissed me, and said, "Alright."