open post 2017

[marching]

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( she pulls away from him and Ben tries not to flinch. it's okay, it's to be expected, it's ... maybe if his head was screwed on straight he'd have a good word for it. it shouldn't bother him, because this is what Lucy does. only it does bother him, and luckily Lucy's eyes are on the road or she'd spot a glimpse beyond the devil-may-care attitude he's determined to present to the world.

all this trouble started when he let something near enough that it could matter when it was taken away. apparently he hasn't learned much on that front.

Ben doesn't say much more until she stops again. it is both because she seems intent on finding a particular place and that he simply needs the time to think. Storybrooke thinks he's stupid, that his thoughts sink through his head like a tortoise covered in molasses. if only, they actually race around so fast that it's hard to keep up with all of them sometimes. and it's safe to say that he's got plenty to think about, in the uncomfortable minutes it takes Lucy to find a place to park. )

I don't know either, ( he musters, after a long pace of silence. his head is running probabilities, probabilities and unknowns and possibilities. there's too much he doesn't know, too much he can't guess at, and yet he is guessing at it anyway. does she want to have the baby? would they do this together or would she try to push him out? would she rather scrub that spark of life away and forget it ever happened, forget there was ever a moment they fell together and for a blissful moment in his empty life, he finally knew what it was like to not feel alone?

he breathes out again, this one heavier than the last. panic is like cement is filling his lungs. ) Nobody is, ( he mutters, and he'd know — since his mother? parents? had it been a choice they'd made together? — because he was a mistake nobody was ready for, either. ) What do you want, Lucy? Tell me that, and ... I don't, I don't know. That's what is most important.