Broken Roots
Epilogue: The New Seedling
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 551
Disclaimer: I own Crossing Jordan. Um, right. That was a lie. I don't own anything. Except my own insanity. I can't even claim to own DVDs for Crossing Jordan. Okay, I can, but only season 1.
Summary: Sins of the father are passed onto the son. Sins of the mother to the daughter. And somewhere in the middle of all of that lies the truth.
Pairing: Woody/Jordan
Author's Note: I have enjoyed this particular series, despite its dark nature and unpleasant concepts. I really wanted to be able to explore the life of someone who had broken the way that I had Woody break in this series. Of course, what everyone really wants for that kind of damage is for it to be fixed. Somethings, I think, really can't be fixed. So I'm not really going to spend anymore time trying. I think I've taken the characters to a point where moving on is really possible, but I'm not going "happy ever after" because it's unrealistic. There's hope. That's as good as it gets.
The New Seedling
"So," Woody began, getting down on his knees and running a hand over her stomach gently, awe in his face and his fingers, "you're telling me there's a mini midget in there."
Jordan looked down at him, tears and laughter warring over her. She wasn't sure what his reaction to her news would be, and she had been afraid, actually. He had been back for a long time, but there was still a part of her that feared that he would leave. This was just the type of thing that would send her running. Why not him?
She ran a hand through his hair. "We're not calling our child a midget."
"No, of course not," he agreed readily, too easily. She looked at him suspiciously, but he was still running his hands over her stomach like it was some kind of treasure, a rare and precious gift. Maybe it was. She bit her lip. She was not going to give into that pregnant woman myth. She would not be ruled by her hormones.
Well, maybe a little...
"Midget is Maddie's nickname," Woody went on. "Our child gets its own nickname. Even if it is a midget."
Jordan cuffed the back of his head, and he glared up at her, his fascination with her stomach suddenly forgotten. "What was that for?"
"You called our child an 'it.'"
He stood, folding his arms over his chest and pouting. Oh, he was definitely pouting. "Jordan, we don't know the sex yet. I have every right to call it an it at this point. Or would you rather I go around calling it 'he'? Though, I think I'd rather have a girl, all things considered..."
Looking at Woody like that, she forgot to be angry. Or even the slightest bit upset. "I... I just want her 'cause she's yours."
"Ours," he corrected immediately, closing his mouth over hers. "Ours."
She nodded. They'd been through so much, both of them, grown and changed, and things were not perfect, but they were good. Really good. The past was behind them. It really was. And this, she thought, her hand on her stomach, this is the future. Our future.
She stopped, pulling back from his embrace. That wasn't easy. He was kissing her senseless and she really didn't want that to stop, but it was hard, after everything, not to be a little insecure about this. She put her hands on both sides of his face, looking into his eyes. "Are you sure about this? Really sure?"
He closed his eyes. "If by sure, you mean scared shitless, then yes, I'm sure."
She laughed with him for a moment. He was right. This was a frightening concept. Parenthood. She kissed his cheek, and he pulled her into his arms again. "It won't be easy. Because we are who we are. We're screwed up, me way more than you, and this is going to be one hell of an uphill battle, but I figure if we made it through the rest of that, and we shouldn't have, as I keep reminding you—you should have left me—then we can make it through this."
She closed her eyes, feeling safe in his hold. "Not easy."
"Not for us," he agreed. "But worth it. Worth every damn minute of it."