Who: Eddie, Steph Where: Gotham Farmers Market When: this weekendish What: shopping for fresh organic food but also a break down Warnings: panic attack, PTSD stuff
Despite the jokes claiming otherwise, sunny days in Gotham did, in fact, exist, and spring was finally giving the city the warm-up it needed. If everyone ignored the grimness and crime and heaviness, it could be a beautiful city of neons and life and a uniqueness that those suburbians wouldn’t dream to know of or understand beyond what they saw on the nightly news. No, Gotham City had character just like any other city, but it also was just different. There was nothing like living in Gotham, and there were no other people like Gothamites. They were hardened, resilient, but they also had an appreciation for the lives they had. Who wouldn’t learn to love a city that could come back after every single time it got ripped to shreds? Most Gothamites knew they were lucky to have what they did, and they loved the lives they had.
Stephanie Brown was trying to remind herself of that every single day. She was lucky. She had a boyfriend who loved her more than anything in the entire universe, a home to live in, pets to dote on, a proverbial big brother to look after her when things got tough. She actually had more than most people did in the city, and objectively, she knew that it was all good. But, there was a disconnect, like she couldn’t match up the wires to get the picture and the sound just right on the television. The nightmares persisted. Jolted her upright in the middle of the night crying about lost teammates or scrambling to look for her gun or screaming for them to duck as imaginary bombs rained over them from above.
But, Eddie was waking up with her now, and having him aware of the demons in her head helped. The Veterans’ Anonymous meeting helped, too, even if she didn’t speak. She just listened to the stories these broken men and women told about their times during deployment and their readjustments back home. So many of the accounts sounded like they were digging into her own brain, and she didn’t feel as lonely anymore. They didn’t even stare at the scar running down her neck like it ruined her completely. For a couple of days, things seemed really good, like they were looking up.
The farmer’s market filled half of the expansive square near the harbor. Stands filled to the brim with fresh fruits and veggies, vendors sold homemade lemonades and iced green teas, the smell of pastries wafted through the air. Gotham’s sweethearts, Eddie and Steph, they wandered through hand-in-hand for a while before she wandered off to grab them two iced teas. She was dressed in her light, military green jacket and jeans with flats, warm enough to forgo the bundling needed during the winter, and her messy blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail. When she returned to Eddie, by an avocado stand run by two people just as tatted up as they were, she kissed her riddled man on the cheek, handed him his drink. “Unsweetened.” Because they were on a health kick now that they were back home, too. Eddie actually worked out with her instead of staring at her.
And, Eddie? Well, Eddie handled stress a little differently. He had lived with every shade of riddled anxiety since long before she was born. He had faced his demons years ago. He had pried open the rusted over box and sorted out the string, counted the carnival tickets and measured those question marks. He knew when something was tick tocking wrong and he wasn’t afraid to admit it or find help for it. That kind of comfortability with a mental disease that could make him think the universe stretched in ways it did not was something that came with practice and time. Stephanie didn’t have either of that. All she had was this nice new life and him holding her hand through all of it.
He knew things weren’t fitting into place just right like a dress that didn’t fit anymore or a puzzle piece lost in the wrong box. He also knew that her mind didn’t work like his. Even if she had all the time in the world, what worked for him wouldn’t necessarily work for her. So, what did he do? He read. Eddie read a lot about what he already knew was a post-traumatic stress. He talked to the wives and husbands of veterans they met at meetings and asked how they helped their spouses. And, he was always there, hand out and ready to take hers when things got too bad. Eddie didn’t want to find her a solution, didn’t want to read the last pages of a book to know how to cure her. He knew it was just about being there. That’s what it had always been for them and that wasn’t going to change.
Eddie was dressed in his t-shirt with one triangle telling the other that he was obtuse, a long sleeve shirt under that was rolled up to his elbows and jeans that had seen better days. He crossed his arms and leaned closer to hear the punk rock avocado growers talk about botany (he was a genius, but neve a botanist). He asked questions like what if the pit is bigger than the fruit and do avocados grown in the ground??? until they laughed and excited explained the dorky little details of their professions. Really, all it took to get Eddie to buy something was to exhibit a nerdy love for whatever it was. He was easy.
Plastic bag of avocados in hand, he turned away from the stand just as Stephanie surprised him. Eddie gave a pleased oh as she pecked him on the cheek and smiled at her. “We’re having taco night soon.” He held up his avocado trophies and then took his drink. “Did you know that the avocado is also called the alligator fruit? I wish I used that in a riddle back in my golden years.” Wistfully looking out into the distance.
Stephanie took a thoughtful sip of the iced tea before nodding her approval for taco night. “I can make fresh guacamole. I still remember the other Paula Deen’s recipes since we saw the same episode twenty different times.” She tapped the side of her head and winked at him. “Plus, any excuse for margaritas is a good one.” She grabbed the avocados from him and opened up one of the reusable bags they had brought with them. Oh, they were totally playing the parts of bougies, but it made them happy, and at the end of the day, she felt better doing all of this than ordering junk every day. If Earth-3 was good for one thing, it was teaching them both to treasure their bodies.
“Sigh. Another opportunity lost forever. You can use it on the cats, I guess. I bet Isis won’t figure it out.” She smiled with affection over at him, looping her arm through his, and kissing his cheek again. The love was still the easiest part. Even lost in all of the muck and messiness of her brain revolting against her, she know implicitly and irrevocably that she loved Eddie Nashton. Nothing, not a damn thing, would change that. Taking another sip, she tugged his arm to get him back to strolling with her. “Or you can practice on me. You know I’m still not really good at any of those.”
“I miss that Paula Deen.” Eddie sipped at his iced tea, and smiled as she dropped the avocados in with the rest of the stuff they bought and then pulled him in close. He was happy and he didn’t care about anything else except her and what fresh produce they were going to buy. See, Eddie liked to make people believe that his mind was always working, that he always had an angle for everything. But, he felt too much. He liked being happy and in love a lot more than playing chess with every step of his life. That surprised him as much as everyone else. “Practicing riddles on you is about as useful as doing so to a wall. Except walls don’t get that funny little confused look you do.” He retorted with a smirk and let her lead him wherever she wanted.
They passed by cantaloupes and he stopped, tugging her back over and unliking his arm so he could examine. The woman running the cart was a plump, middle aged woman with a sunkissed, ruddy face. She smiled brightly at the two lovebirds as most older women do when they see people so deeply in love. Eddie smiled back, all charm and easy grace that could be traced back decades and decades before asking about how to pick the best melons. He held one up to his ear and knocked, making the woman laugh and tell him to smell instead of try to talk to it. So, Eddie turned and picked up two, offering them to Stephanie.
“Take a wiff, sugar. Which one is the sweetest?” Old Gotham accent coming through in spades. “I can’t tell cause you’re here being the sweetest one in the bunch.”
“So isn’t it all worth it anyway?” she teased, resting her head for a moment against his shoulder before looking around again. Stephanie always felt too much, and everyone knew it. Logic rarely, if ever, came into play in her mind, and she always found it so very hard to shut off any sort of feelings. Whether it was anger towards a father that was never there, or pride in herself, or love for a question marked man despite all the riddles that inhabited his mind. It was both to her advantage and detriment, making her one of the most empathetic members of the Batfamily and an all around golden-hearted woman. But, she always felt too much, too. It was what had her in this situation now. Steph couldn’t just shut off her brain and forget about everything she’d seen and done and experienced back in that Gotham that wasn’t actually theirs.
Sometimes, though, all of the rushing in her brain overwhelmed her, blew her circuits, and just shut it off. That was happening more often than she liked to admit -- one moment she was there, present and happy and in love with her life, and suddenly she couldn’t connect to anything at all. Like her brain got so muddled and confounded by everything going on that was just normal until it couldn’t actually keep anything straight. So it gave up. Steph couldn’t deal with the mundanity of everyday life some days, and she was so overwhelmed by things as simple as a stand of fruit.
As Eddie charmed the woman and looked at the plethora of cantaloupes spread across the cart, Stephanie tried to take it in, suddenly overcome with a sense of numbness. Her mind buzzed to a stop until there was only white noise, slow waves of nothingness, and she stared blankly at the rows and rows of melons. Her face slacked, vanishing her smile with a proverbial snap of the finger. Thoughts flitted now and then to her other home and to the ludicrousy that Eddie could actually be asking her that. She didn’t turn to him right away, instead slowly sliding her gaze towards him. “What?” she asked, loud, rushing noise in her ear finally dulling to a quiet buzz. Blue eyes void of much of anything, and it was clear that while she was physically there, she wasn’t actually there with him.
Eddie had witnessed the blankness in the eyes of Arkham inmates. Like someone had pulled the plug and they were barely part of the world around them, no more aware than a lamp or a chair. He himself always kept busy, always had crosswords or puzzled when they let him and he never looked too long at anyone who managed to pop out of their own head. But, this was Stephanie. This was the love of his life looking at him with nothing behind her eyes like a doll with glass marbles in those sockets. And, he tried not to look afraid. Eddie turned, gently setting the melons down and smiled a shaky smile at the woman at the stand. When he turned back to see Stephanie, he found courage (Eddie was deceptively brave) and tugged her hands, pulling her up on the curb and a little away from the market.
“Hey, baby.” He took the bag from her and then her drink. Eddie wished for Earth-3. He wished for that office they turned into a home, the daily missions, the long nights making plans and the piles of bodies they had to see each time they left the base. He wished for it because he knew she dragged a piece of it back with her. A piece so ugly and sinister, they might as well have opened up a portal for Owlman and invited him right in. His gut twisted and that dark Arkham side told him she’d never snap out of it. But, he pushed through the fear to find her. “Hey.” He repeated, touching her arms if she’d let him.
Stephanie looked and felt like she was in a trance. The glassy blankness in her eyes remained, and though she glanced back at the vendor with her ruddy face and confused wobbling frown, it was more like she looked right through her. Like she wasn’t even there. She didn’t even feel the tug of his hands, wasn’t aware of the shuffle of her feet that drew her towards the curb and away from the ambling shoppers. Her body held her there, but her brain was miles away. Universes away. She wasn’t thinking about the difference between fuji or gala apples or how they could get fresh tomatoes for the guacamole as well, but drifted back, back, back to that other Gotham.
And when she looked over Eddie’s shoulder towards the harbor, she didn’t see a warm, sunny spring day reflecting off the slightly murky water. There was that dark air that hung around Earth-3. Burning buildings, dying people screaming out in pain, gunfire ringing in her ears where the buzzing did before. Her stared off, slacked in her face, and then her blue eyes flicked back to Eddie as he tried to bring her back to her. But, she couldn’t. All she could do was look at him with the wide, dead blue eyes of someone lingering on the deaths of their loved ones. Of the bloodied bodies of families, of children that she saw on a daily basis for a time. Of the way an owl’s mask glinted in the sun as he slaughtered their leader. Disconnected gaze and a stiff body as his hands dragged down his arms. There were no words, no worried brown eyes, nothing but the gunfire and wails washing over her.
Then, a cargo ship coasting through the harbor sounded its loud, obnoxious horn, and Stephanie’s eyes widened in panic. She ducked, yanking his arms so he would go with her. A strangled sound rang through her throat, and she bit back a scream. Screaming would give them away. “We have to go, Eddie. We have to go! We’re gonna get killed out here if we don’t move,” she whispered through clenched teeth like they were surrounded by their enemies. But they weren’t. Stephanie yanked again, but the illusion shattered when she heard a nearby kid, no older than six or seven, laughing as he was chased by his father. There was no laughter like that in a warzone. Not their warzone at least.
Clutching Eddie’s arms with fingers turning white from tautness, she looked up at him with panicked eyes, still ducking down like she was waiting for another bomb to go off. Her heart was racing, and she could feel her mind fall of its railings for a moment with a screeching halt. Shocked, she gasped for air but actually couldn’t catch her breath. Why couldn’t she catch her goddamn breath? Why was there a little boy laughing while bombs went off? Why wasn’t Eddie moving?
Eddie’s eyes went wide and he grabbed her by the shoulders a little tighter than he intended. He was worried and he didn’t know if he was supposed to show concern or be some kind of solemn rock for her to hold onto while this panic washed over. Neither of them were good at hiding their feelings, though. She could feel his fingers twitch on her shoulders, see his eyes go wide like saucers. Stephanie thought she was in a different world and if his soft voice and big, dark eyes couldn’t pull her out of it, then what could?
“Baby, it’s okay.” He told her and tried to ground her. “We’re in our old Gotham. With Matilda and our farm and our giant bathtub.” Eddie didn’t say it like she got the answer to a riddle wrong. Like she was crazy. It was more like when she woke up in the middle of the night gasping at the imaginary bombs she heard and he was assuring her, confirming that the soft bed and quiet room were real. “We’re home.” He told her and then said the one thing he always did whenever he wanted her to know he was there. He said her name: “Stephanie Brown.”
Her eyes flickered around his face, taking in the eyes wide as saucers and his mouth tight with concern, and she couldn’t understand why Eddie wasn’t running away with her. Why weren’t they armed either? She looked down at them in their casual clothes, and more panic set in. What the fucking fuck. She shook her head violently, protesting his words because they weren’t real. Why was he talking such bullshit? Bombs were going off, and guns were rattling, and there was a kid they needed to save. Shake, shake, shake of her head, and her worried eyes were going angry and narrowed. “No, we have to get the fuck outta here.” Her shoulders tried to jerk out of his hold.
And then, there was her name. He said her name in that grounding voice that cracked through all of the other mess going on in her brain, that would always bring her back to him. Her grip tightened on his arms. She looked around, snapping her head back and forth like she was looking for the perpetrators, and suddenly saw it. The rows of stands and carts. The sunny skies above. Eddie’s concerned brown eyes. The panic melted into a look of recognition, of wide eyes now so there and connected that he could see every single emotion she was feeling. The confusion, the panic, the fear. Gasping again and again and again to stop the tingling anxiety pulsing through her veins.
“We’re home.” She ducked her head down between them, messy blonde hair falling out of her ponytail and hiding herself from the world that had just come crashing in. “We’re home, we’re home, we’re home,” Stephanie choked out to a whisper and dug her fingers into his arms.
Eddie’s own fear drained with each worried gasp she took. He could be selfish and scared and wrapped up in his own riddles, but if Stephanie needed him he could drown all of that out. The only thing that mattered in the world for those couple of seconds was holding onto her as if she was learning how to swim for the first time. Come up for air he thought and his eyes softened, the surprised replaced with an understanding that no one else in Gotham could have. Sure, other Arkham alumni had their own share of anxiety, but none of them got it like Eddie Nigma, king of the obsessive compulsive. He knew what it felt like when the universe suddenly started to spin in the opposite direction without rhyme or reason. He knew the feeling of grasping for something that wasn’t there.
We’re home. Stephanie saw the world for what it was and crumbled into him. Eddie wrapped his arms around her and ducked his head down to rest on her shoulders. A tight, insulating embrace so the world only really consisted of him and her. “That’s right. That’s right.” He whispered back like she just solved a difficult riddle and kissed the side of her face through a messy veil of blonde curls. “I shouldn’t have taken you to the market. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” The wives and husbands of veterans had told him. Kimberly, wife of army man Mark and mother of his two kids, said that once he had a full breakdown because he saw the same make and model of a car that blew up down the street from him and killed a kid he used to see every day. Jennifer, the mother of Travis a marine veteran with a missing leg, said once he stopped dead in his tracks in the middle of the mall and wouldn’t move for ten whole minutes before she could snap him out of it. Eddie knew that he had to be selective about where to take her on dates and shopping. He just didn’t know the scope until now.
Stephanie readily fell into his embrace, wrapping her arms around him like he was the only thing keeping her there, and she guzzled more fresh air. There was a choked out sob, something quiet and small and vulnerable, and her fingers dug into his back. Twisted the fabric between her fingers to focus on something that was real and tangible. Just as the entire world around her was real and tangible. Eddie holding her in his arms was real, the water hitting the docks was real, that little boy was actually giggling. Still. She kept repeating her mantra over and over again -- We’re home -- until she could make herself believe it. Because all of that felt so real. To her, the bomb was going off, and the bullets were raining from everywhere, and the threat was there. It was there, and she could feel it in her bones. And it terrified her how real it all felt and how easy it was to give into the hallucination. She knew that they were home, right? Why was it so simple and easy to forget all of that? How could she be so easily consumed. It left her feeling weak and stupid and useless.
Shaking her head, she twisted the fabric more between her fingers until the shirt was taut around his body. The adrenaline still pumped through her veins, rushing noise almost drowning out his apologies. Her body shook in his embrace, and she kept muttering, kept reminding herself that they were home. No one was going to blow them to bits, Owlman wasn’t perched up on some building with snipers trained on their heads, and she wasn’t going to lose Eddie to some inherited war anymore. They were safe and sound back in their Gotham.
“No, baby, no.” Her arms wrapped tighter, her fingers dug further, and she turned her face into the crook of his neck. She couldn’t look at him yet. She felt so guilty. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what-.” Stephanie made a regretful sound against his skin. “I’m so, so, so sorry. It’s my fault.” It was all her fault. She couldn’t reign her brain in to make it work right anymore.
Eddie didn’t mind the tight hold, the pull of fabric around his back. He focused on how she shook in his arms, how she groaned out apologies that were so unnecessary it almost baffled him. “Don’t be sorry.” He kissed her hair again and let her drown in his arms. Eddie tried not to sound baffled by that guilt heavy in her voice. He didn’t understand why she would feel sorry for something like this. To Eddie, anxiety and everything that got tangled up in it was more like an injury or an accident than something that was her fault.
“We’re okay. We’re fine. Look, the avocados are still intact!” He said with geeky triumph and pointed to the bag of produce they had brought with them that was now sitting on the curb. Eddie didn’t try to pry her off him to look at her, she could observe the world from the safety of his arms. “Though, I might have knocked over your ice tea. I can replace something so trivial. I can get you whatever you want. See? Whatever you need, I’ll help you find it.”
She kept her lips against his neck, drowning the memories of gunfire and bombs that shook even their underground base with the steady, comforting pulse. His heartbeat quelled the shaking, a sense of calm washing over her in generous waves as she continued to clutch him like a lifeline. Like her anchor to reality, which he was. Eddie was the only one who was able to bring Stephanie back down to Earth anymore, and times like this reminded her more and more not only how much she loved him, but how much she needed him. She wanted to be fucking strong, but apparently some part of her had broken in the interim of this Gotham and the other. She whined as he pressed another kiss into her hair, shaking her head and fingers sliding up his back to dig into his shoulderblades.
“I just want it to stop. I want it to stop.” Digging her nose back into the crook of his neck, she breathed in his scent, that mingling smell of his cologne and the soft soap they had at home, and she was so glad that he had never left her. She didn’t know what she would do without him. But, she was worried -- worried that Eddie would soon become frustrated or inundated if she started to fall apart. If her brain kept acting the fuck up.
“I love you,” Steph muttered as she turned to rest her mouth against his shoulder. She pressed a kiss into the fabric of his clothes and then dug her teeth into it quickly before pulling back. She couldn’t hide the fear or confusion in her eyes, the question of why this was happening to her and if he would ever get frustrated enough to quit her, and she blinked a few more times before going back to hide away from the world. Pressing her face into his chest, she just shook her head a few times, body trembling just a touch in his embrace as she waited for it to pass.
Eddie didn’t know if he was supposed to give her an answer to the puzzle. He knew what was happening and he also knew that it was going to take time and patience for her to get better. He also knew that wasn’t something Stephanie wanted to hear or would even accept. “We’ll figure it out. You’re okay. None of this is your fault.” Eddie kissed the side of her head hard when she bit him and then returned a look down at her when she finally looked up at him. He tried to give her a look of solidarity back. And, there was knowledge there, too. Like he just saw something fall that he predicted would weeks before. He didn’t give advice, he didn’t tell her what she should do, he just looked at her.
“I love you, too.” He responded softly and left a collection of kisses across her face. She trembled in his arms and Eddie went quiet. He pulled her close and looked over her shoulder at Gotham and wondered again if they’d be better off back on Earth-3. No amount of exercise or crime fighting or training would distract them from the mundane. “We don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to.” Eddie offered. “There’s other doors.” He knew there was a Mass Effect door and a Walking Dead door and all kinds of other places that were perpetual war zones. Maybe that was where they belonged. And, if that’s what she wanted, he’d follow her there.
No, it wasn’t something that Stephanie would just accept, and they both knew how hopelessly stubborn she was, even at twenty-six and grown. Maybe there was an objective part of her that knew that she would never be able to find a quick, snap solution to this problem. There was no magic wand that could wave away all the nightmares and memories, and no salve for the invisible pain she harbored in the back of her mind existed in any of the goddamn doors spread beyond a door unlocked with their keys. And while Stephanie never really liked the easy fix or something simple, maybe just this once something like that would be okay. Maybe she just wanted to be able to enjoy her life and move on. So, why couldn’t she do that?
She closed her bright blue eyes eyes as he peppered her face with kisses, and she let him try to fix a problem that she didn’t know could be fix at all. Maybe there wasn’t anything else, but at least she had him and he would do anything for her. There was gratitude in her grip as she hid away from the sunny outside world, as she pressed her nose into his chest. “No.” The word was lost in the muffle of fabric and she pulled back just so she could rest her cheek on his shoulder. Eyes still squeezed shut, she sighed deeply and shook her head. “No. This is our home.” There was a mourning in her voice. It didn’t feel like home to her some days anymore. But, she insisted, pressing a kiss to an exposed piece of his neck before repeating, “This is our home, baby. I don’t want to go to some other goddamn door just because my head is broken.” She wasn’t thinking about how her words might make him feel at the moment. There was just the sharp fear still pulsing through her body and the need to shake all of it off. Another kiss without even lifting her cheek.
Broken made him shift uncomfortably, his hold on her loosening for a second. “It’s not broken. Needing help for what’s happening up there doesn’t mean you’re broken.” He hadn’t told her anything except that he’d take care of her and they were going to be okay. He didn’t tell her she needed help or that this wasn’t going to go away because she wanted it to. He hadn’t said anything like that, but if she called her brain broken, then his was too and Eddie liked to think that wasn’t the case at all. Of course, if this was happening to him, she’d say the same thing. Stephanie, though, never experienced mental illness herself, so any kind of it happening to her meant she was broken. That hurt Eddie more than he’d like to admit, so he struggled past it. “Maybe we’re just different people. I love Gotham, but I love you more.” There was no question that she wanted to stay, that they had huge fights over it. Eddie just thought that if she wanted an out from this mundane, he’d give it to her.
“We’ll take care of this. Let’s just,” He kissed her and then let her go so he could go pick up the produce. “Go drop these off at home and see how you’re feeling, okay? We can stay home or go hit the training center. Whatever you want.”
Stephanie didn’t even think about how wrong what she had just said was until his grip around her loosened. She pulled back with narrowed blue eyes, scrutinizing his face for the answer to her silent question of what she did wrong, and then he spoke. It clicked. She shook her head, a mea culpa on her tongue as she relinquished her hold to desperately cup his face. “No, I didn’t mean that. I just--no, it’s not broken. Just like yours isn’t.” She traced her thumb across the lines at the corner of his eye, and she pleaded wordlessly for him not to think she thought he was broken. But, he had to understand how she felt, right? Hadn’t he had times where he felt too broken or jumbled to be fixed up? Her fingers dug a little into his face, pressure to beg him to not get mad or misunderstand. “I love you, baby. I want to make our life here in our home.”
She felt a little deflated as he stepped away, and his absence left her cold in the warm sun. She wrapped her arms around herself and looked at him as he grabbed the bag before glancing around. Everyone looked so happy and normal and fulfilled in the mundane, so why couldn’t she? “Yeah, can we just go home? Please?” She reached to tug his hand, desperate for the contact and the feel of his skin against hers. Stephanie just wanted him to hold her for a little bit in the comfort of their home to make her feel better. And then she would kick the shit out of some of the boxing equipment in the training center to get rid of all that frustration and rage at her weakness. But, she just wanted him for a while. Him -- her world, her love, her anchor. She tugged at his hand again and entwined her fingers with his. “Can we just hide under the sheets and pretend the rest of the world doesn’t exist for a while?” And wasn’t that telling.
Eddie shook his head when she tried to take back what she said. The damage was already done and he knew even if she didn’t want to hurt him, deep down she did feel broken. That something might be unfixable, so it was best to ignore it. He offered her a sad smile that told her to stop apologizing and picked up the bag. Eddie caught that look off at other Gothamites and it ate away at his stomach. He liked this life and he could be happy with her here, but if she couldn’t take it, then what was the point? What was even the point of their fights over having a future together that was more than what they had now?
He pushed the selfish thoughts away and focused on making her feel better. Eddie had believed on Earth-3 that he’d be happy with Stephanie no matter what if she let him stay by her side. And, he believed it here. Maybe they’d never get all the things that they wanted. That was okay with him if it meant he still had her. “Whatever you want, baby.” He squeezed her hand and then let it go to put his arm around her waist. “All that matters right now is you and me.”