#farmstationed

the tension of her motions causes jack to pause.  he knows the signs of trauma, he’s already experienced them first hand.  yet despite all of that, those who survived from farm station lived through another kind.  would it end, he wonders.  or were they all doomed to suffer wounds of both the spirit and body?  hands pull back, the balm he was to apply to the brunette’s cheek put down momentarily.  in an effort to get to know her better.  to prove things would be better than they were.

“hey,”   jack begins, waiting for ryan to open her eyes again.   “you’re going to be all right.”   at first there’s no specification in what he means.  it’s broad for a reason.   “your cheek is fine. you don’t need stitches, just some of this.”   he holds up the cream.   “it’ll stop the itching, help with the scarring.”   carefully the blond moves away, no longer towering in front of her.  the noises of the area seem like enough of a stimuli that jackson offers a different treatment.   “how about i take you outside, where it’s quiet? would that be okay?”

it seems that the man’s question is perfectly timed,  because just as she nods her head,  a couple rushes into medical with stuttered breaths and sobs ripping through their chest.     their frantic gazes travels over the faces of those who returned from farm station,  and with a cry of a name,  ryan watches as a family is reunited with their lost son.     it curls forth a pang of guilt in her heart,  knowing she will never understand that warm comfort again.     her father’s blood kissed the snow before ryan could allow herself to touch the icy terrain.     she doesn’t even remember what happened to his body as she was dragged back into the wreckage of her home,  which soon turned to her hell.     perhaps he was disposed of in the traditional way,  or perhaps,  in a more gruesome thought,  his bones were carved as weapons.

he plays coy, at first. shrugging as if that wasn’t the exact thing on his mind;  the thing he wants most.  with her.   “one could think that.”   cerulean hues meet ryan’s gaze, holding it until the beat of his heart is strumming so loudly in his head that he has to look away.  the world before them was different than the last.  on earth, even if he’d thought about it, jack wouldn’t feel as comfortable to even voice the desire.  what was the point in marriage when you were living on a planet that felt destined to kill you?  such an idea felt inane.

but in eden?  it didn’t seem far-fetched.   “what are your thoughts? on marriage, i mean.”   the blond questions, genuinely curious.  he wouldn’t have held it against ryan to have a jaded view, after all she’d been through.  had they not found eden, jack wasn’t positive he would have opened his mind back up to it.   “is it stupid?”   in other words:  did she find love to be enough?  was a vow or title pointless?  anxiety creeps in, the beating sun and added nerves causing him to rethink the conversation.  except jack knows his own answers.  it isn’t stupid or trivial.  he wants it.  he wants what his parents had—devotion and a partnership that could help navigate everything else in life.  the consistency of a good love.  jack has seen what it looks like, three times over.  from his parents, to peyton and sam, and what he knows he and ryan could be.

“i suddenly feel so… old school, in having this conversation. like i’m taking the romanticism out of us.”   the worry creeps into his voice,   “i’m not trying to. i can drop it, easily. you can tell me to shup up and i will.”

she sees the doubt creeping in when he starts to fall back on his own words.     he wants to stop the unraveling spilling from his mouth like flooding gates,  and she notes the panic undertones of his timbre.      he’s scared.     ryan recognizes it easily;  it looks similar to the nights when he would wake from bad dreams of the lives that they have forced themselves to live when they came to earth.     so ryan does she always do whenever she notes the anxiety that creeps around his neck like a noose,  and reaches her hands up to palm his cheeks and direct his gaze onto her.     “hey,”     she hums softly,  thumbing the corner of his mouth and pressing herself against his front.     her height is not terribly shorter than him,  allowing himself to crane his chin down only a minuscule amount.     their bodies fit perfectly against one another,  like fitting puzzle pieces,  like they are designed and created from the same mold to be destined for each other.

her support and praise sends a shot of heat through him.  like a moth to a flame, he yearns to stay close to the feeling.  to her.  to the way she makes him feel.  as if ryan isn’t a huge reason why jack continues to offer himself up in any way he can.  she constantly sought to help others.  even if it wasn’t in his innate nature, who would he be to not rise to the level of her?  of deserving such love.   “all these years of knowing me and i want to say i still detect a bit of surprise in that voice.”   he smiles, half teasing and half truthful.  

“did you expect i would sit around eating berries, praying for a patient of some kind?”   jackson takes her hand, leading them both towards the co-op wherein ryan would surely be dropping her harvest off.  cerulean hues take in the vision of what is settled against him, the beauty of ryan and their new world.  he stops them a few yards off, allowing the various comings and goings around them to shield his words.   “you have yet to find me so amazing that you agree to fill my time forever.”  a finger tilts her chin upward, forcing their eyes to meet.   “so yes, ryan. i’ll continue to teach, and help, and do as much as i can. because one day you’ll be as overwhelmed by love for me as i am for you.”

it feels strange to be in a place that resembles faintly to a home now poisoned.     ryan’s wide,  doe hues flits around the room,  taking in each rusted nail and metal plate that shapes the area as it’s own room.     since moving from the back of the truck,  ryan was able to get a streaked glimpse of green beneath her boots before she was urged to join the others from farm station.     from there,  they were encouraged to rest in a medical section,  where ryan can see the exhaustion pool in the faces of those around her as they finally get to experience the comfort of safety and a cot.

ryan felt familiar since the first day he met her.  without speaking, her touch alone was what passed the warmth jack recognized.  call it their similarities or his own romanticism, knowing each other seemed meant to be.  he takes the berries from her, sheepishly hungry after not paying attention to his own needs before setting out that day.   “thank you.”   the blond speaks with genuine gratitude.  he’d been watching ryan off in the distance as he taught some of the others basic medical care;  and a few times jack had to be reminded of where his attention was supposed to be. 

with her beside him, nothing felt as important.   “come find me later, if you’re interested,”   he notes to the group that began dispersing just before the brunette showed up.  “you’re not good for my concentration.”   without explanation, jack takes the basket and places it on the ground.  it frees her hands to be in his.   “but i think you helped them find a polite escape rather than telling me i’d been talking too long.”   he presses his lips to a spot behind her ear, a sweet gesture jackson does for himself as much as he does it for her.   “i had thought about asking for your help during these trainings, but, now i know you’d be too beautiful a distraction.”

fondness spreads warmth through her chest like a wildfire,  lighting everything inside of her when jackson is near.     the rumble of his timbre,  the way he looks at her,  and the kindness that exudes off of him like air pollutes her system and fills her with nothing but him.     and she’s enthralled by it.     pearl teeth peeks between her blush tiers as she hangs onto every word he says,  like it’s a book that she can’t seem to put down.    being in his orbit sends a wave of nerves across her system,  starting from where his kiss lingers,  all the way down to her feet.     lithe fingers reaches up to gently palm his cheek,  thumb brushing strokes against his cheek.     “funny,  i could say the same thing about you,”     she hums,  inky lashes flit upwards as she gazes into his eyes.

there’s tenderness that tucks between the notches of her spine,  curling with the bow of her back as she holds her legs to her chest by the warm fire.     the prickly feeling of the grass beneath her feels dizzying,  a sensation that ryan worried she would never get the fortune of feeling.     it’s akin to the pain of heartbreak,  cracking the foundation of a person where their heart lies.     but ryan knows the lightning crack of seeing someone die whom you care so deeply for.     to this day,  ryan still smells the coppery stench of her father’s blood splattered on the bright,  sparkling snow.

a soft smile warms across her features,  blush colored tiers curling upward as her train of thoughts carry her over to jordan’s parents.     kindness was a scarcity after earth,  and trust needed to be rebuilt when they were on the ring.     but it bled from harper easily,  with a fierce tenderness that felt like only she knew the language of.     it was admirable,  and when ryan realizes that she may never experience that feeling again,  her stomach twist in knots.     but here in front of her is a stark image of both harper and monty.