"Your fire's getting low."
Mick looks up at the sudden sound of words, jolting him from his thoughts. He knew she was there, he could hear her coming from more than a hundred feet away, but he still allowed himself to remain lost in his thoughts. He can feel her eyes on him now as she stands somewhere between his side and behind him. Three years ago she would've already plopped herself down beside him.
A lot has changed in three years.
For example, three years ago he wouldn't have given her a wary glance as she began lowering herself to the ground by his side just to make sure she doesn't fall. He knows she won't, and even if she did she would react quickly enough to recover herself without any harm coming to the daughter inside of her. She wouldn't need his help, they both know it, but he can tell she's aware he's watching her with the offer ready on his tongue.
Once she's on the ground and he's confirmed for himself that neither she nor the baby is going to accidently get hurt by the simple act of sitting down he turns his attention back to the horizon. It's dark, and he can barely see anything beyond the fait silhouettes of the trees ahead, but it's his turn for the night watch.
"There's more wood back at the hut," she offers finally, daring to glance up at him.
He just snorts and keeps his eyes ahead.
"If there's one thing that I know how to do, it's keep a fire going." He grunts and she presses her mouth into a firm line, now turning her own attention back to the dark mass of trees that define the boarder of her village. "How've you been?"
Her head all but snaps in order to look at him when he asks, her eyes meeting his and seeing nothing but sincerity and even concern in the bluish-green pools.
"I've been good," she answers with a shrug, shifting to rub a gentle hand across her large stomach. "A little irritated lately but I suppose that's normal."
He chuckles at her response and she cracks a small grin, she's missed the sight of his smile these past few years.
"What about you?"
He sighs, his shoulders sagging and his gaze turning distant once again. "I've been alright," he says, "I still can't believe Blondie left me in charge. But with you gone I guess she didn't really have much of a choice; I can't exactly see Haircut as a Captain and the kid was too young back then."
Amaya snorts at that last comment about Ray, unable to deny it's truth. She'd asked about Sara and Leonard earlier, how they and their daughter are doing. The last time that she saw them was two years ago, at their wedding. Their daughter Aurora was only a few months old then, but by now she must be well into her toddler phase. Anyway, she notices Mick smirking at her small laugh, apparently happy that she's agreed with him.
"The ship ain't the same, but we're figuring it out." He goes on and she nods.
"I'm glad," she says, "I still feel bad leaving you guys down three team members at once."
She hadn't wanted to leave when she did, she hadn't wanted to leave at all but especially not around the same time Sara had learned she was pregnant and so she and Leonard weren't left with much of a choice but to leave for the time being. But she didn't have much of a choice either. Time was beginning to set. The resident lovebirds had barely been gone two weeks when they encountered Kuasa in a fight and one minute she was running, then the next she was on the ground gasping for breath. Amaya is still experiencing nightmares of that day. Holding her granddaughter as she writhed and gasped, desperate to get air into her throat. How she had passed out only seconds before Mick took hold of her and suddenly they were racing back towards the Waverider. She will never forget Gideon's voice telling her that time was cementing, that Mari was currently seizing in the middle of Detroit street; surrounded by medics who would never be able to help her. She made the decision right then and there to return to 1942, no time for a second thought. She briefly returned to the future a year later, for Sara and Leonard's wedding. From a distance she saw Mari, and Kuasa, both fine.
Still, her hand remained firm now on her swollen belly, a solid reminder that her family will remain safe.
"Don't worry about it," Mick breaks her thoughts, and his eyes that are again meeting hers tell that he knows what she's remembering. "We made it work, and you needed to be here." She nods, biting at her lip as they descend into silence.
"Do you ever wonder what it might have been like if I didn't?" She finally asks when the quiet has become too much, and he raises an eyebrow at her. "If I was never tied to this destiny," she explains, "If I didn't have to come back here."
He thinks for a moment, or she thinks he's thinking anyway. Maybe he's just trying to find the best way to tell her no, he hasn't thought about it.
"Well for starters," he finally grunts, "You wouldn't have been here to greet us today." She gives a tiny, little, half smile at that. It's a mission that's brought the team to Zambesi 1946, and she's been more than happy to help them in any way that she can. "And," he continues, "You probably wouldn't have that."
He gestures to her stomach with that and she full out laughs this time, looking down at it for herself.
"Probably not," she agrees, "But when she brought me back on Sara said that normal life suited me, so maybe I would've ended up settled down anyway."
He watches her for a few seconds, regarding her, like he's wondering if there's some hidden regret behind her words.
Honestly, she's wondering the same thing.
"Fire's getting low," he finally observes, echoing her earlier words. "You'll be ok for five minutes if I go get more wood?"
"Mmhmm," she hums with a nod, "I'll be fine." She almost wants to make a comment about how she's pregnant, not incapacitated, but she's sure he paid a few visits to his best friends in 2019 when Sara was nearing the end of her pregnancy; he's definitely heard all the threats and comments before. Besides, the way that he smiles at her as he rises to his feet, he knows she's going to be just fine.
He walks away and shakes his head, trying to pour all of his focus into retrieving wood for the fire. But he just can't. His mind is replaying her question over and over again, repeatedly asking him if he ever thinks about the way things might have gone had she not been predestined to come back here and have a child with a man who is practically a stranger to himself and the other Legends.
The truth is he does think about it; every single day.