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It's fucking cold outside. About as cold as it was that day on Callisto; he's okay with that shit but it's a good idea to keep moving and he knows he's lucky he didn't get frostbite or hypothermia that night he spent out in the snow there. Hell, that was a long time ago. Feels like forever, like the memory of a dream that's iffy around the edges by the time you remember it. There's snow on the ground here outside but it doesn't stop him; someone's already tamped it down on the path around the lake and that's where he runs now.
Beth Junior is almost three months old and that kind of amazes him. Having her around -- seeing her little smile, hearing her laugh -- is unbelievable. It's not all peaches and cream; he misses his alone time with Beth and he gets sick of getting up in the middle of the night and changing Junior's diapers or carrying her around until she falls back asleep. On the other hand, it isn't like he has a hell of a lot of other shit to do to stay busy. It's only moderately annoying in that whole this is kind of a pain in the ass way and he doesn't really let it bother him: no point. At the rate she's growing she'll be out of high school tomorrow and he'll be all nostalgic about no sleep and diapers and baths in the sink and all that. She'll need her own room soon enough and Beth's room just isn't close enough; they'll have to talk to Mike or Bernard one of these days.
But for now, it's all good. And he hasn't lost too much strength or tone for all his lack of activity; either he's just in good fucking shape or those nanobots really are something. Or maybe it's both things, although he was pretty damn good at this before Vincent's nanobots. He has reasons now to stay in shape, though. Two of them, both named Beth and he figures if this is it -- if this is the end of his travels -- it's not a bad thing at all. He'll take it.
Every step echoes a memory of Beth. Every breath of cold air filling his lungs is a reminder of what's important. Even if he never gets to leave here again (and he still hasn't tried the door since Beth got back all those months ago; to say he's skeptical of them now is a hell of an understatement), that's okay. Everything and everyone who matters to him is here... except Jet and he'll take it. Sure, there are some people he misses and would like to see again. But they're either on different planets or they're dead and there's nothing he can do about that. So for now, this is good. No: it's fucking great. Perfect.
He doesn't start to feel the burn and stitch in his side until his third lap around the lake and he knows if he can make it the rest of the way, it'll be worth it. It's good to move, good to do things. So he sets that big tree at the end of the loop as his goal, one thought in his mind: as good as it is out here, it'll be even better back inside with his Beths. Get back in there, get showered and clean, leave snowy wet running shoes somewhere safe to dry... and give his woman one hell of a hug in greeting. And that's the thought that puts a smile on his face, cramps aside, all the way back around the lake, into the bar, and back up the stairs.
Beth Junior is almost three months old and that kind of amazes him. Having her around -- seeing her little smile, hearing her laugh -- is unbelievable. It's not all peaches and cream; he misses his alone time with Beth and he gets sick of getting up in the middle of the night and changing Junior's diapers or carrying her around until she falls back asleep. On the other hand, it isn't like he has a hell of a lot of other shit to do to stay busy. It's only moderately annoying in that whole this is kind of a pain in the ass way and he doesn't really let it bother him: no point. At the rate she's growing she'll be out of high school tomorrow and he'll be all nostalgic about no sleep and diapers and baths in the sink and all that. She'll need her own room soon enough and Beth's room just isn't close enough; they'll have to talk to Mike or Bernard one of these days.
But for now, it's all good. And he hasn't lost too much strength or tone for all his lack of activity; either he's just in good fucking shape or those nanobots really are something. Or maybe it's both things, although he was pretty damn good at this before Vincent's nanobots. He has reasons now to stay in shape, though. Two of them, both named Beth and he figures if this is it -- if this is the end of his travels -- it's not a bad thing at all. He'll take it.
Every step echoes a memory of Beth. Every breath of cold air filling his lungs is a reminder of what's important. Even if he never gets to leave here again (and he still hasn't tried the door since Beth got back all those months ago; to say he's skeptical of them now is a hell of an understatement), that's okay. Everything and everyone who matters to him is here... except Jet and he'll take it. Sure, there are some people he misses and would like to see again. But they're either on different planets or they're dead and there's nothing he can do about that. So for now, this is good. No: it's fucking great. Perfect.
He doesn't start to feel the burn and stitch in his side until his third lap around the lake and he knows if he can make it the rest of the way, it'll be worth it. It's good to move, good to do things. So he sets that big tree at the end of the loop as his goal, one thought in his mind: as good as it is out here, it'll be even better back inside with his Beths. Get back in there, get showered and clean, leave snowy wet running shoes somewhere safe to dry... and give his woman one hell of a hug in greeting. And that's the thought that puts a smile on his face, cramps aside, all the way back around the lake, into the bar, and back up the stairs.
