Author's note: This is a very short little chapter, but watching the first half of season 3 with this story in mind, I kept coming back to this idea.
Thank you to the unfeasibly large number of people who seem to be reading this story. And double thank you to those who have reviewed, followed or favourited.
Chapter 29 – A Few Minutes
Mike only allowed himself a few minutes. Only at night, when the rest of them were asleep around him in the hut, just a few minutes of freedom from calculating, planning and taking care of his people. A few minutes respite from the horror of the situation, the trauma of the bloodletting and the pain in his body. A few minutes to clear his head, to think about the reason he had to get home, to bolster his sense of purpose for the hours ahead.
He started off by imagining her in his arms, the feel of her skin, the soft weight of her body curled up into his. The smell of her hair, the way it felt against his lips when he kissed the top of her head. The feel of her hand holding his tightly, and the feel of her belly under his other hand, the tight curve of her bump, their baby cradled under his palm. Then once he could almost feel it like she was there with him, he allowed himself to remember other things. Her laugh, the way she looked when she was concentrating, her terrible singing, and the exact sound and shape of the words when she said 'I love you'. And her naughty smile, the feel of her skin under his fingers, the taste of her, the way she clung to him when he was making love to her, the look in her eyes right before she exploded around him.
And then he pictured coming home to her, seeing her waiting for him as he stepped off the ship, her belly full and round with their baby, and how it would feel to hold her, the first things he would say to her - I love you, I missed you, I'm never leaving you again - and the moment he could take her face in his hands and kiss her.
And then finally he allowed himself to believe that he was back in their bed with her, that all of this was over, that he was home and secure with Rachel in his arms, their baby under his hand, and he willed himself to make it happen.
And then, if he was lucky, he slept. And then he woke, and planned, and protected, and survived, and worked through the day until he was back in those few minutes when he allowed himself to dream of home.
