02-15-2014, 08:41 AM
Tony could have been so much harsher. Jensen was amazed yet again at the man's open-mindedness. Tony really was a good man, and Jensen had to believe they'd met for a purpose. Tony continued to astound Jensen, who in turn continued to be surprised by the depth of the man's sincerity. It was mesmerizing to think about. In the way that he could stare across the ocean only to be surprised that waves continually followed one right after the other.
But in those waves, Jensen realized they were crested with selfishness. He hung his head, tempted by shame to scramble away with his embarrassment. Here he'd sought Tony for the man's help, spoke of apocalyptic dread, and never once considered what he may do to serve Tony's needs.
Tony had done nothing but try to help Jensen see past his own darkness and never asked for a thing in return. He'd find a way to repay the man. A friend like this was worth the effort.
By the time he was clapped on the shoulder, things felt lighter between them as though a heavy smoke just cleared the room. He still lacked a definitive goal, but at least there was someone willing to find it together. He hadn't known the weight of loneliness until it seemed to be lifted.
"I don't think I will ever be ready for this,"
he replied. He'd said as much shortly before Jessika gave birth to their first son.
Tony's suggestion made him shake his head. Not from discomfort, but from uncompromising conviction. He lowered his voice, but any sharpness with which he locked upon Tony was dulled by sadness. "I won't kill anyone though. Even if it means my life."
Or my family's. Or that was the intention. Jensen had already done that once before and for the least noble reason anyone could justify. Hiking the trail of theoretical possibilities could quickly get a man lost in what if's, but even if he were face to face with the Antichrist himself, Jensen didn't want to take the man's life. He needed to restore life, not take it away.
But he wasn't going to be a doormat either. He hoped Tony's understanding extended to Jensen's convictions. He'd been around Moscow long enough to know men of the city were cut throat, and it had been a hard lesson for Jensen to learn how to survive here. But he stuck to his guns. Figuratively anyway. "I will fight for life though. I'll defend. I'll run into the fire. I'll rescue. But I won't take life to do so."
This was the one thing he wouldn't negotiate.
But in those waves, Jensen realized they were crested with selfishness. He hung his head, tempted by shame to scramble away with his embarrassment. Here he'd sought Tony for the man's help, spoke of apocalyptic dread, and never once considered what he may do to serve Tony's needs.
Tony had done nothing but try to help Jensen see past his own darkness and never asked for a thing in return. He'd find a way to repay the man. A friend like this was worth the effort.
By the time he was clapped on the shoulder, things felt lighter between them as though a heavy smoke just cleared the room. He still lacked a definitive goal, but at least there was someone willing to find it together. He hadn't known the weight of loneliness until it seemed to be lifted.
"I don't think I will ever be ready for this,"
he replied. He'd said as much shortly before Jessika gave birth to their first son.
Tony's suggestion made him shake his head. Not from discomfort, but from uncompromising conviction. He lowered his voice, but any sharpness with which he locked upon Tony was dulled by sadness. "I won't kill anyone though. Even if it means my life."
Or my family's. Or that was the intention. Jensen had already done that once before and for the least noble reason anyone could justify. Hiking the trail of theoretical possibilities could quickly get a man lost in what if's, but even if he were face to face with the Antichrist himself, Jensen didn't want to take the man's life. He needed to restore life, not take it away.
But he wasn't going to be a doormat either. He hoped Tony's understanding extended to Jensen's convictions. He'd been around Moscow long enough to know men of the city were cut throat, and it had been a hard lesson for Jensen to learn how to survive here. But he stuck to his guns. Figuratively anyway. "I will fight for life though. I'll defend. I'll run into the fire. I'll rescue. But I won't take life to do so."
This was the one thing he wouldn't negotiate.