He turned to her as he settled beside her in the deep set of bushes, observing her tension filled crouch, the feelings she was trying and failing to conceal from her seeming composed and focused features. "Are you alright?"
She shook her head while keeping her gaze on the scene he had just finished putting the last touches to. "Are we doing the right thing?"
He shrugged and gestured to the scene before them. "Its a little late to change our minds now."
She sighed. "I know, I just worry about those we leave behind. And the horror they will feel when they learn of this."
"We can't take them with us," he reminded her. "There's just as much risk for them here as there is for where we're going. Not to mention we would have to something similar to this for them as well, which might raise too many questions. Plus what would it do to the future? Not just history's, but theirs as well."
"I know," she conceded. "But I miss them." It was the longest time they had spent apart from them and the knowledge that it was to be a final parting hurt, especially the manner in which they would be doing it.
"I miss them too," he agreed. "But this is the only way to protect them. This will give them the best chance. There's no guarantee they would meet if we took them with us."
"And he's not ready for her yet," she murmured.
"Is anyone ready for when they meet?" he pondered. "I certainly wasn't when I met you."
"No," she agreed, a slight smile gracing her face, "but you rose to the occasion. As will he when they do. More so in the future than in the past however."
"Which is what you told me when I first came up with this idea," he reminded her gently. Sighing, he turned his eyes on the sight before them. "I hate this too. Yet I cannot help but think that this way, there's a possibility that we will have the chance to be reunited with them when it is finally safe to do so."
"Whenever that may be," she agreed, a slight smile on her face.
"We've lingered long enough," he pointed out.
With one final glance, Rebecca handed her husband the things they needed. Taking his hand, she raised her foot when he did, then lowered it.
Into the past.
Which was now their future.
THE END
© Danielle Harwood-Atkinson 2021. All rights reserved.
