TITLE: Out, Out, Damn Thoughts!
AUTHOR: Kasey

EP-RELATED: Offensive Actions

RATING: PG-13 Bud/Harriet

SUMMARY: "I hate the stumbles down memory lane. Beause its' a different world now and we can't go back."

DISCLAIMERS: I own not them, I own them not.

He keeps talking about the past. About things we've done, conversations we've had. Places we've gone.

And I hate it. I want him to stop.

Because it seems to me that, in reliving it all...he's losing himself in the past. Which is tempting, I'll admit, but...the fact remains that we're not in the past, we're in the present and trying to move into the future.

Well…that’s what I’m trying to do. These days I’m not so sure about Bud. I mean it’s like he’s trying to throw himself into memories. And recreate them.

Things aren’t that simple anymore. We can’t just go down a path to a secluded area and start-…First of all his leg still hurts any time he moves very much, and second of all…

We had to walk a little bit. From where the path ended and we parked the car to where he laid down the blanket. Not far…but enough. And either he’s conveniently forgotten that, or he doesn’t acknowledge that would be a problem.

And even ignoring the location al fresca…the bed in the living room is too small and the mattress squeaks. That’s why it’s not the regular bed, but the one I moved down from the guest room. But he wants to stop at the drugstore anyway. Don’t get me wrong, I applaud the spirit – how many months apart from my husband and when he got home the celebration was simply that he was *alive*…

And he wants to go right back to work – like that’ll solve everything. Like going back to work and attempting to recreate the life he had before will just make his leg come back.

And it’s not just those memories he’s been dwelling on. If it was just that sort of thing, I could deal with it, but…there are times he gets so dark. The other night when I went in to kiss him goodnight before I went upstairs to bed, he was staring off into space and when I asked what he was thinking about…he said, "I was just thinking maybe it’s for the best there’s not a toddler in the house – AJ’s big enough that we don’t have to chase him around so much." When I just stared at him, I guess he thought I didn’t know what he meant and he just gave me this sort of sad smile. "There’s no way you’d be able to help me AND chase after a two-year-old girl…so maybe it worked out for the best."

Damn him, always looking on the bright side.

To say nothing of the fact that if he would’ve had an eighteen-month-old daughter, he wouldn’t’ve taken the change of assignment. He shouldn’t’ve taken it anyway, but he certainly wouldn’t’ve-…

And that’s the biggest thing. Not only does he not think about the past…he thinks about PARTS of the past. Not all the details. Not all the other points about it.

Just that maybe good can come from a tragedy. Or that afterwards he spooned me under the stars.

I hate the stumbles down memory lane. Because that was a different world, and we can’t go back anymore.

No matter how hard he tries.