The resignation in Luke’s voice caused Charlie’s mouth to drop open slightly. She had fucking asked, but she hadn’t thought the contents would have been so volatile. She’d always known there was something between them and, whatever it was, it was not fleeting. [I]Years[/I]. Her mouth went dry at the thought, looking down at the picture again. Then? When? “How the fuck would I have known that?” she asked, eyes trailing upward as he approached her. 

Her jaw was set as he kept talking, teeth grinding as she fought from interrupting him and eyes narrowing as his voice filled the kitchen. Then, suddenly, it felt like she could barely hear his next words. Had she been a reason he’d always left? Did she have a part to play when he gained another scar or the pain she’d just witnessed? Charlie nearly flinched as Luke moved away from her, leaving her there in a daze as she tried to process what exactly was happening. 

Did she want him to stay? She knew she didn’t want to be alone anymore, in a house where the ghost of her husband haunted every square foot. That wasn’t quite the same thing.

[I]Maybe I want something I know I’ll never have.[/I]

Charlie’s hands braced against the island, steadying herself as she tried to formulate any response. Once Luke removed himself from close quarters, she felt like she could breathe again… but that wasn’t anything new. Always there when she didn’t want him there, never there when she wanted nothing but him; he always took up space, but she’d never been so aware of it prior to Sam’s death. Now, coupled with that fucking admission, it felt suffocating. 

[I]We can make it work for us.[/I] Months, years… Why would he want to stay now, when he had a very clear line of reasons why that had never been a good idea before? 

She took a deep breath and pushed herself away from the counter, quietly padding after Luke’s steps and finding herself in the cooling air. Charlie couldn’t bring herself to do anything other than grab the lit cigarette from the soldier. “These things will kill you, you know,” she said before bringing the stick to her mouth and taking a deep inhale, holding it in as she handed it back to him. 

Coughs racked her body followed by self-depreciating laughter. “I can’t give it up, even if I can't do it on my own.” Sam wouldn’t want her to run away just because he wasn’t here, would he? He always talked about how strong she was, but if she was then this wouldn’t be an issue. She'd be able to do it by herself. Charlie hoped that Sam couldn’t see them down here, couldn’t listen in on the conversation that had just happened or anything that would happen from here on out.

“You know, you were never the only one betraying him,” she said softly, looking up at the man she stood beside. 

[I]Him being dead or alive doesn’t change the fact that I’m not going to cross that line[/I].

She let her head rest against his shoulder, keeping her eyes on the land in front of them. The barn, the animals, the legacy her husband at unwittingly left her… she couldn’t do it on her own. “I need you.” The words slipped from her before she had time to think, but they’d been quiet enough that she could trick herself into thinking he hadn’t heard her. Charlie cleared her throat, the residual taste of tobacco so cloying she could barely stand it. 

“Stay with me. Please. We can make it run.”